Chapter 5

Present

Ella POV

"Ellie, you're squeezing my arm," Cordy whines. I don't even realize I'm doing it. I let her go, and she turns to face my parents and me. "Mom, can I have some money to play games?" she asks, pointing at the older arcade games near the back of the restaurant.

'Mom?' Sam mouths, looking from me to my mother. I can see the wheels in his head turn as he waits for one of us to answer.

"Sure, baby." Mom reaches into her purse and hands Cordy a couple of dollars. "But, this is all you're getting, okay?"

For a moment, relief washes over his face, and he exhales deeply. Cordy runs past Sam as he watches her intently.

"We should get together while we're in town, how about tomorrow?" he asks, meeting my eyes again. "We can meet back here?"

"Y-yeah, we have a lot to catch up on."

"We do." His lips form a tight smile. "Two o'clock? We'll meet here, and decide on where to go from there?"

"Sure," I nod my head in agreement. I have so many questions that need answers, and he's the only one that can give them to me. He's about to speak again when Cordy interrupts him.

"Daddy! You gotta come see this!" she hollers from the back of the restaurant. "Dad! Come on! I'm about to get the high score!"

"I'm coming, Delia," Dad says, excusing himself. "Sam."

"Mr. Jameson. I'm surprised you're still here," Sam says sharply.

"Yes, well, plans change," dad responds curtly, turning away from Sam. "You should know that better than anyone."

"Rob, this is not the time." Mom is trying to keep the peace. "Go see your daughter get the high score."

I stand in front of Sam, mindlessly picking at my fingernails. I think about the last time I saw him and how different he looks now. His hair is longer, the odd grey strand poking through the chestnut color. His face is thin, pain and regret etched on his face, reminding me of John. For a moment, I get lost in his eyes, studying the amber color and the flecks of green that don't shine as brightly as they used to. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, Cordy comes barrelling towards me.

"Ellie! I did it!" Cordy says excitedly. "I got the high score! Take that IMPALA67! I own you!" she laughs wildly.

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean mutters. "I worked hard for that."

Sam's attention is back on Cordy. As if the longer he looks at her, the more her resemblance to me becomes clear.

"I kicked your ass!"

"Cordelia Mary Jameson. Watch your language," dad barks at her, Sam's breathing hitches at Cordy's middle name.

"So, I'll see you, t-tomorrow?" Sam asks, turning to face me.

"Yeah, Sam, tomorrow."

We say our good-byes. I can tell that Sam wants to ask about Cordy, and I'm thankful that he doesn't. This is not the place to do it. Mom and dad are already out of the parking lot by the time Cordy and I reach my car; Sam and Dean leave the restaurant just a few moments later. They give us a final wave before heading towards the Impala, which I somehow didn't notice when we pulled in earlier.

"It's not fair, Ellie! You are allowed to say whatever you want!" Cordy pouts as we get into my car.

"I'm a grown-up, Cordy." I try reasoning with her. "When I was your age, I wasn't allowed to say those words either."

"It's still not fair," she crosses her arms and huffs, dramatics are her specialty.

"Hate to break it to you kid, but life's not fair sometimes." Don't I know it. "When you're a little older, you'll understand."

We sit in the car for a few minutes as I wait for her to cheer up. I pull up the one song I know will make her smile.

I got my ticket for the long way 'round
Two bottles 'a whiskey for the way
And I sure would like some sweet company
And I'm leaving tomorrow, whaddya say

"When I'm gone!" she joins in as we head home. "You're gonna miss me when I'm gone!"

"You're gonna miss me by my hair."

"You're gonna miss me everywhere."

"Oh, you're sure gonna miss me when I'm gone!" We sing together.

"That tall man, Sammy, who was he? Was he your boyfriend?" Cordy asks, unknowingly striking a nerve with me.

"Why do you think he was a boyfriend?" I say, trying to keep my composure.

"He was giving you googly eyes."

"Y-yeah, a long time ago, before you were born."

"Does he really hunt monsters?" I wish Dean had never said such a thing to her; she doesn't need to know that monsters exist.

"He does. He actually saved me from one," I say as we pull into the driveway of my parents' house.

"Did he really?" she asks as we walk up to the front door.

"Did who really what?" Mom looks between us as she opens the door.

"Sammy! Ellie said that he saved her from a monster!"

"It was hardly a monster, Lizzy." Mom sighs. "It was a coyote. You never did tell us-"

"He saved me," I interrupt her. Over the years, mom had tried to get more information about what had actually happened that night, but I would always change the subject. "It was really scary, but he saved me."

Cordy seems satisfied with my answer and runs upstairs to her room.

"Really, Lizzy, a monster?" Mom chastises me. "Why would you tell her something like that? Now she's gonna have nightmares," she says, before lowering her voice. "Why were you talking about Sam?"

"She asked about him. I didn't say anything" I snap back at her, "He doesn't know. She doesn't know. No one in this fucking town knows that Cordy is my daughter and not yours."

"Eliza Renee!" she pulls the front door closed, looking desperately behind her. "She might hear you. We've talked about this, your father and I are Delia's parents, not you and Sam."

"I know. I'm not a child, mother. Stop treating me like one." She knew I wouldn't tell Cordy without them there, something we had agreed on years ago. "I already told you, I didn't say anything, why would I? He chose to leave us rather than stay. You think I want her to know that her father abandoned us the first chance he got?"

Mom stares silently at me, tears brimming in her eyes. We've avoided the topic of Sam for years; it was too painful for me. She's hiding something. I can see it on her face, the way she bites her lip as she composes her next thought.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to see him, Lizzy. The last time he was here..." she sighs heavily, "I don't want to see you get hurt again. Sam-"

"I don't want to talk about it, I'll see you in the morning." I cut her off before stepping inside the house, making my way up to my room.

Memories of him plague my mind. Sam fucking Winchester. Of all places, why did he have to come back here? After what he did? My shock and happiness of seeing him quickly drift away. Anger now consumes me. I have so many questions that I want to ask him. I have to know why, why he chose Stanford. Why he couldn't've at least told me to my face. Why would he tell me all those things, and then just take off? I would've been upset, devastated, but at least I would've gotten some closure. I have to do it. I need my answers. It is the least he can do.

Dreams of the day I found out I was pregnant, and when I learned he left, had kept me up most of the night. I have all the questions committed to memory. If it takes all day, he is going to answer them. I deserve to know why. I do my best to compose myself, I throw on some old clothes and shout good-bye to mom and dad.

"Are you going to see Sammy?" Cordy asks, "Don't forget to tell him about the soul-eater!"

"Okay, kid," I laugh, kissing the top of her head. I don't need to tell him, from what Dean said yesterday, that's precisely why they're back in this crappy town. Probably never planned on coming here again, most likely so he wouldn't have to face me.

I drive to Joe's and see the Impala already parked on the street. Sam and Dean are in the midst of what looks like a heated discussion.

I park my car and walk to the front of Joe's, waiting for him to get out of the car. After a few minutes, he does, smiling as he walks towards me.

"Ella," he leans in to hug me, but I back away from him.

"Sam." All my nervousness and nostalgia from yesterday is gone. He seems confused by my stiffness towards him.

"Do you want to go in?" he asks as he walks toward the entrance of the restaurant, reaching for the door.

"No." I can't let him try to charm me, "we can go to the park. We can talk there. I have a lot of things I need to say to you, Sam. Questions I need answered."

"Yeah, Ella, I do too," he replies stiffly. I'm shocked. What questions would he need answered?

"Fine. Let's go."

"Lead the way."

I start walking to the nearby park, and Sam keeps pace right behind me. I spot an empty picnic table and head towards it. Taking a seat on the wooden bench as Sam takes one opposite me. We sit there awkwardly for a few minutes, neither one of us wanting to be the first to speak. I remind myself to take deep breaths; it's the first time we've been alone together in eleven years.

"You look good, Ella," he says, breaking the silence between us.

"Thanks."

"I- I've been thinking about you a lot recently," he says, a tinge of pink filling his cheeks. "About us. How we never got to say good-bye. After the baby, I was really messed up."

"Yeah, I was too," I say, looking down at my fingers. "It was really hard."

"Cordelia," he says as if he's changing the topic, "cute kid. I don't remember your mom being pregnant. How old is she?" My eyebrows furrow at his question.

"Ten," I state matter-of-factly. "She'll be 11 in November."

"She looks so much like you." He smiles as I look back up at him. I see his eyes race as he processes what I said. The panic that had quickly subsided yesterday is back with a vengeance. "Ten?" He asks, forehead wrinkling. "Birthday in November?" He's doing the math in his head. "Her eyes," he mutters something under his breath that I can't quite make out, "they look just like mine."

I stare at him blankly, watching as a million questions play on his face. He opens his mouth and closes it quickly. He looks at me almost as if he wants me to say it, but I refuse. I need to hear him say it. I can see the frustration wash over him before looking down at the table, tracing the patterns in the wood with my fingers.

"Is Cordelia… " he takes a deep breath, almost as if he's afraid of the answer. "She's mine, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"Fuck!" Sam's hands cover his face. "W-Why, Ella? You knew I wanted to be there. To be a part of her life, a part of yours." his voice is muffled. Tears are forming in his eyes, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"You abandoned us, Sam!" I yell, unexpectedly letting my anger get the better of me and bringing attention to us from onlookers. "You-" I pause to lower my voice, reminding myself to keep calm. "You abandoned us. I believed you, Sam, everything you told me. But you're the one who ran away. You left me."

"W-what?" He stutters, seemingly confused.

"After I t-told you I was pregnant, you said that you were going to take me with you—"

"I remember," he said softly, "graduation."

"You told me to wait for a few days, 'cause you had to tell your dad that you were leaving for Stanford and taking us with you. I waited. I got excited about the thought of leaving with you. My parents were furious, they-" I didn't like thinking about my parents' reaction to my pregnancy. "I went to the motel on Monday, like you told me to, and you were gone. I loved you, Sam, and you broke my heart."

"You came to the motel?" he asks, taking in all the information. "Wait, I broke your heart? Ella, I wanted you to come with me, I wasn't lying when I told you that. But when I went to your house, your parents wouldn't let me talk to you. I begged them, but they said you didn't want to see me."

"What?" I study his face curiously. Had my parents been lying to me all these years?

"Your dad said that if I didn't stay away from you, they were going to press charges against me. Say that I forced you, that you had some kind of Stockholm Syndrome," he explains. "They had me scared shitless. I meant what I said, I wanted you to come with me."

"But you still left," I whispered. I was hoping for answers, but this conversation was only eliciting more questions. "You still left without me."

"I know, Ella, and I'm sorry. But your parents—"

"My parents couldn't do anything to you; I was 17, you had just turned 19. We didn't even start dating before that. Maybe they didn't like it, but there wasn't anything they could do about it."

"I know that now." He fidgets with his hands. "But I had to get away from my dad, Ella. You know that. And Stanford was my way out." He looks up from the table, directly meeting my eyes for the first time since we sat down. Stanford was his way out. Comprehension hits me harder than I expected, and a floodgate of emotions wash over me. I can feel the tears welling, quicker than I can will them away.

"I thought I was your way out." My voice cracks and I let out a deep. shuddering breath.

"You were, but you remember how controlling my dad was back then? How against he was about the idea of us being together?"

"That didn't stop you from continuing to see me. If you weren't serious about me, you could have told me. You didn't have to make me fall in love with you, Sam. You could have been honest with me."

"I never lied to you, Ella," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And it's not fair for you to put all the blame on me. You're not the only one who was manipulated. After I left your house, I told dad about Stanford; he freaked out. When I told him that I was leaving and that I was going to take you with me, he said I couldn't take you because you were technically still a minor and that I should forget about you. And when I told him about the baby, we got into this huge fight. Dean had to break it up, he took me to a bar, and we stayed out the rest of the night."

I remember how John acted the morning I showed up at the motel. "John knew," I say, closing my eyes.

"Yeah, I told him about the baby."

"No." I take a deep breath, opening my eyes to see him looking at me with confusion. "He knew that I wanted to keep her, said he would tell you." I shake my head, recalling the memory of what John said to me that morning, "He even-" I stop speaking as I notice Sam's whole body stiffen.

"Fucking asshole, that fucking asshole!" He yells, bringing attention to us once again. His face reddens, and his breathing grows heavy, nostrils flaring. His jaw clenches, and he slams a fist on the table, his head shaking as he gets up, pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.

My eyes widen at his reaction, and when he glances back at me, his features soften as he sits back down. "Ella, he never told me any of that. He lied to you, Ella. Hell, lied to me too. He never told me that you came to the motel. He told me that you didn't want to see me again, and I couldn't stay here for another minute knowing that."

"I don't understand," I can't believe what I'm hearing, "Why? Why would John lie to me? To you?"

"I don't know. If I could ask him, I would." Sam drags a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

How many lies had he been told? How many had I been told? John, my parents, they all lied to us. Maybe they were doing what they thought was best. But each one of them had a part to play in where Sam and I stood. But even then, he still chose to leave-alone.

"I just need to know one thing from you, Sam," I state, breaking the silence between us. "One day, I'm gonna have to tell Cordy the truth." I feel the tears welling, and do my best to keep them at bay. "About who she is, about who we are, and I want to be able to tell her that we weren't just two teenagers acting purely on hormones. I was in love with you, Sam. I wanted you more than anything, and maybe you didn't feel the same—" I finally break, tears flowing freely from me.

Sam moves from across the table to sit down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I lean into his side, relishing in the comfort of his strength and familiar scent. He places a kiss on my forehead, and I realize that he needs this just as much as I do.

"I wanted you, Ella," he speaks softly, "and even though she wasn't planned, I wanted our baby. She's you and me, and I thought about both of you all the time. That first year was so hard; I was a freaking mess. Christmas was really bad, I knew by then she would've been born, I nearly drank myself to death. I was spiraling, and I wanted to reach out to you, just to say sorry, but I was a coward. I wondered what we would've named her, who'd she look like." I pull away from him slowly, "You have no idea how much I wanted the both of you with me. You were the first person I loved, and I still," he lifts my chin, bringing his lips to mine, placing a soft kiss against them, "love you, Ella."

Internally, I'm rejoicing. I knew there were still many things we needed to discuss, things I needed to tell him, but for this moment, everything is perfect. He's back, and he still had feelings for me. Deep down, I know this won't last long, he's a hunter, they never stay anywhere long, but I banish that voice to the back of my mind, and let myself get lost in this moment with Sam.

"November 17," I say, breaking away from him.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

"She was born on November 17, almost exactly one year after we met. She was nearly three weeks early. She was this tiny little thing, and the moment I laid my eyes on her, all I could see was you. Your eyes, your lips, your nose," I laugh as he makes a face.

"She looks like you, Ella, more than you probably realize. Cordelia Mary?" A smile forms on his lips. "You remembered my mother's name."

"After I decided to keep her, I wanted her to have a name for you. I thought that even if you weren't going to be around, she could have a part of you with her, even if she didn't know it. And as angry as I was with you, I really wanted to give her your last name, but it just wasn't going to happen. My parents still wanted me to give her away, but—" I think back to the day she was born. "They came to see us after she was born, and immediately became enamored with her. They told me I could come back home with her on the condition that they would be raising her, not me."

"You could have done it, you know, instead of lying to everyone."

"We all agreed that it would be for the best," I respond weakly, shrugging my shoulders. "It seemed like a small concession. Dad still wanted me to finish college and figured it would be easier for everyone if we just pretended like she wasn't mine. It wasn't too bad at first. At home, we didn't have to pretend; I was her mom. I was the one that took care of her, played with her, taught her. But as she got older and started learning more, I had to stop, even at home. It was really hard; it still is sometimes."

"Everyone just believed she was your sister?" He asks, stunned. "That you left for all that time, and you conveniently came back when your 'sister' was born?" He clearly doesn't like that I am lying to everyone about Cordy.

"Mom told anyone who asked that I was off volunteering out of state." I shake my head at the thought. "Very Bible Belt of her, right? Couldn't let her unmarried pregnant teenager just walk around, not how 'good families' act," I scoff. "No one, besides our parents, knew I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone, not that I had the chance. Mom and dad shipped me off to South Dakota as soon as they could. For five months, I lived with my ridiculously religious cousin, and I only had contact with a handful of people. After we came home, I barely left the house. I focused all of my attention on Cordy."

"I know, but-"

"People will believe what they want to believe. And I was doing what I thought was best for my daughter. You don't get to show up eleven years later and be mad about the decisions I've made for her." I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "You have no idea what I've gone through."

"I know, 'm sorry." He takes the opportunity to place another chaste kiss on my lips, calming me. "I just wish I could have been there."

"Sam, there's nothing you can do about it now, I gave you a chance, and you didn't take it."

"Ella, I told you, I wanted to take you—" he huffs, voice laced with frustration. "If I'd known that you were keeping her and still wanted me, I would've taken you with me, just like I promised."

"Really?"

"Seriously, Ella, if I had known, I would have been there every goddamn day." He gives me a real kiss this time, and it takes my breath away.

His hands run through my hair, and with every deep kiss, he places another smaller one on my lips. Even after all these years, he still makes me feel like we are the only two people in the world. A wolf-whistle from somewhere across the park breaks us apart, and Sam smirks. I lean my forehead against Sam's chest and silently take in everything I've learned over the past hour. I still have questions, I'm still angry, but for this moment, I am content being back in his arms. The steady beat of his heart helps soothe me as does the warmth of his hands now wrapped around mine.

"How long will you be in town?" I ask, breaking into the silence, even though I don't want to know the answer.

"Not sure," he sighs. "Cordelia's right, you know, there was something hunting kids at her school. She's a smart girl." I can't help but laugh as he uses her full name. "What?" he asks, a smile forming on his face.

"No one calls her 'Cordelia.'"

"Where have I heard that name before?" he says, peppering kisses on my face, "Not after Buffy, right?"

"No. A book I was reading while I was pregnant. The name just kinda stuck with me."

"You call her Cordy, right? And your parents?"

"Delia," I laugh. "She's a girl of many names."

"Okay, so what can I call her?" he asks, becoming slightly more serious. "When I meet her, I don't—"

"Sam," I say, stopping him. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. "I don't know if that's the best idea."

"I want to know her Ella; she's my daughter," I can hear his voice change from soft to demanding, "I want her to know me, know Dean. I have a right to know her."

"No, Sam," I push his arm away from me and stand up from the table. "She's my daughter. Her last name isn't Winchester. You've only seen her one day of her life, and now you think she belongs to you?" I see pain and anger flash in his eyes as he stands. "I'm not going to let you stroll back into her life just to walk out of it again in a few days." I turn away, frustrated and hurt, and make my way back to my car.

"Ella—" I hear him protest from a few feet behind me, "Ella, wait, I just meant—"

I turn to face him, "You pursue this, and I swear Sam, I'll leave and make sure you never see either of us again. You aren't the only one who knows how to disappear." I threaten him. I turn around, walking away from him again, knowing he is staying close. Oranges and pinks fill the sky as we leave the park, having been there for hours.

"El—Ella, come back," Sam shouts from behind me. "Please El/N, I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want—"

There's a loud squeal of tires behind us, followed by a loud bang and the grind of metal against metal. I freeze, everything around blurring into a haze. The terrifying sounds propel my mind back to the night of the attack, unable to breathe as the beast comes charging towards me, sharp claws and amber eyes are all I can see. The sound of a gun going off and Sam standing in front of me. My fingers brush over the faded scar on my forearm, a phantom pain lingering there. I fall to my knees, body trembling, my vision grows hazy before I pass out.

The wail of sirens greets me as I come to, warm hazel eyes stare down at me, specs of green and blue highlighted by concern. Sam has one hand lying gently in the center of my chest, as he presses one of my hands against his, "...breathe, baby."

I mimic his actions, slowly breathing in and out as I gaze into his eyes. I push myself up to a seated position with Sam's assistance as my breathing returns to normal. His attention is pulled to the street as another siren grows louder. People from the park have disappeared, a crowd gathering at the side of the road. He helps me to my feet, his arm around me, keeping me steady as we walk towards the source of the commotion, a car accident. My training kicks in, instincts urging me to run over and offer any kind of help that I can. As we get closer to the scene, a familiar wailing fills my ears, causing my skin to prickle. I know that cry. I pry myself away from Sam, shoving my way through the throng of people. I gasp in horror at the sight in front of me, two cars, one nearly folded in half, the other's front end destroyed.

"Ella—hey, are you okay?" Sam asks from behind me. I feel the blood draining from my face as he wraps a protective arm around me, searching my face. "Baby, tell me what's wrong."

My heart's in my throat, and I can barely get the words out, "It's Cordy." His eyebrows furrow, he doesn't understand. Another cry comes from the U-shaped car, I take a deep breath as I move toward the destroyed vehicle, Sam tightly gripping my shoulder as he moves with me. "It's Cordy."