"You ever want to go back, Sammy?"
Sam looked up from the lore book he was studying and brushed his long hair out of his face. He pondered cutting it into bangs again, decided it made him look too boyish.
"Go back where?"
"To college."
Stanford University was a lifetime ago.
Several lifetimes, literally, some part of his mind quipped.
Where the hell had Dean even pulled that question from?
"Don't you think that ship has sailed?" Sam raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah." Dean countered. "But would you... if you could?"
Sam thought for a moment.
If he could erase all this crap and terror and suffering go back to Stanford to start over, would he? Of course. In a second.
But if he had the opportunity to go back now, when he was nearly thirty, after all he'd been through? It seemed like a joke that he had ever thought he could have some degree of normalcy.
"This is my life now, Dean." He replied.
He saw Dean sneak a glance his way. "Yeah." Dean said. "I guess it is."
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