A/N: For those of you who haven't read my early Evy stories, I'm about to give you a big spoiler. Evy, like every other Supernatural character who dies, doesn't stay dead. Enjoy!

Epilogue

Sam had never been a heavy drinker. He was now.

He understood now why Dean escaped to bottles when things got too heavy. Sam had always tried to stop him, to pull him out of the bottle so he wouldn't drown in it. Though Sam loved his father and had long ago forgiven him for all the things they'd fought over, he didn't want to see Dean turn into him.

Now, Sam supposed, he was the one most likely to mimic his father's drinking habit.

He'd made it through a half bottle of…whatever the hell it was in his hand that he'd taken from Dean's cabinet in the kitchen. Dean had never expressly forbidden Sam from taking anything out of the cabinet, but Sam had never felt the need to do so either, beyond the odd single drink when they were celebrating a hunting victory.

Though the pain had definitely been dulled, it wasn't even close to being gone completely. Sam wondered if he'd ever feel whole again. It struck him ironic that the one person in the world to give him the most joy now caused him the most pain. The only one that had even come close to giving Sam the same joy that Evy given him was Jess. And she was gone too.

Dean had come in earlier, and Sam could tell he wanted to say something. But everything Sam could think that he might want to say fell short. So Dean had settled for just sitting with Sam, drinking with him a little, then going off to do whatever it was he'd been doing for the last two weeks.

Nearly the whole of the first week after Evy died had been spent either crying or in complete silence. Sam knew now that he'd been in shock, and there were days he wished he could go back. Numbness was better than this. Better than this constant, throbbing, pulsating pain that could only be dulled and would stick around, Sam was certain, for the rest of his life.

Sammy…

There it was again. That damn voice. Evy's voice, calling for him. Sam took the cup in his hand and threw it against the wall, trying now to rage the pain out instead of drink it out. But all that succeeded in doing was pulling the pain that he'd deadened earlier out and making it sharp and unbearable all over again.

"Damn it!" Sam shouted. "Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"

The anger drained and, again, all he was stuck with was the pain. But what Sam didn't know was that he wasn't alone. Part of Evy's blessing, or curse, depending on how she defined on what day, as a Sensitive, was that even in Heaven she felt her loved one's pain keenly. While Dean and Cass missed her, missed her tremendously, Sam's heart was in a million pieces. She didn't know why she was so surprised. He was the one who had cared for her day to day, nearly every day, for twenty-five years. He knew when she was sick, when she was hurt, when she was scared, when she was sad. He was the one she went to when she was happy, she told him things first, she talked to him about silly things and important things. Evy suddenly felt guilty. While she enjoyed her time in heaven with her mother and father and all her other loved ones, Sam was stuck here, hurting and falling apart. Evy walked over to him, placed a hand on his shoulder cautiously, and whispered,

"I'm sorry, Sammy."

But Wait, There's More

Three Years Later

Was she really here?

Sam was afraid to leave the room, for fear of waking up and finding out it was a dream. It had been three days, but Evy was still here, just in a slightly different form. Based on answers to questions they'd asked her earlier, Sam and Dean had discovered she was six years old. Chuck had become unusually friendly and brought her to them as a gift.

She was here to stay. Here for Sam to raise, all over again.

Evy moaned a little in her sleep and woke up. She'd had a bad dream. It had been years since she wanted to sleep with Sammy because of a bad dream, but the moves were reflexive now. Pick her up, cuddle her, rub her back, sing to her, and she was out like a light again. Suddenly Sam felt like himself again. He kissed Evy's cheek and prepared to sleep, looking forward to finally having peaceful dreams.

"Good night, Cricket."