Really, I had no clue whatsoever, what was happening. I'd spent the entire weekend worrying my fucking head off. Sam had just disappeared, and the only information that I got out of Jess about what had happened was that he went on a road trip with his brother to find his dad. It was really, really weird that he didn't tell me anything, either. I glanced from Jess to Bryon, a confused look on my face, and sighed. This was really...not like Sam. At all. He'd told Jess that he'd be back by Monday, sure. And it was...Sunday. And he'd left on Friday. So, it wasn't TOO weird. I sighed and stared at the window as we pulled up in front of Jess' apartment, dropping her off for the night. She hadn't wanted to be home alone, because she'd had a weird feeling that something was going to go wrong, but Bryon and I didn't have the space for her in our apartment, either. And I felt horrible for it. She was my friend, and I didn't want to leave her by herself, but what else was I supposed to do?

I hugged her and smiled a bit. "You know Sam as well as I do, Jess. You know he'll be home when he said he would. I bet you'll like, wake up tomorrow morning and he'll be laying right next to you," I tried to hide the pang of jealousy that was making it's way through me. But Christ, I wanted Sam more than anything in the world. Sometimes, I wish there was no Jess. Then there would be no Bryon, and Sam and I could—I stopped myself. Why did I torment myself like this? Honestly, my life would be a hell of a lot happier if I tried not to think about it.

She smiled and nodded her head. "I know, Page. I just...I don't know, I have a really bad feeling about this and--" she sighed and shook her head. "You're right. I know. I'm sorry. Just go ahead. Bryon is waiting for you and you guys probably have something planned..."

I felt sort of bad, because it sounded to me like she wanted me to stay. But, I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit there and listen to her talk about Sam the way she did. Not that it was bad, because she talked about what an amazing boyfriend he was, and how she was so glad to have him—all the things Sam deserved to have said about him. But, hearing them said by someone who wasn't me? No. I felt horrible for it. "We do..." I lied. "But you can call me if you need anything, okay? I'll come over as soon as I can, I promise..." I told her. She nodded and smiled, watching as I walked back around to the passenger's side of the car. "See you later, Jess..." I said with a wave.

She waved back...and that was the last time I ever saw Jessica Moore. I woke up to my phone ringing in the middle of the night, and I slowly went to pick it up, figuring that it was Jess, calling me to beg me to come to her house and stay. I sighed and flipped open the phone. "Yeah?" I asked, annoyance evident in my voice. Bryon looked over at me, clearly equally as annoyed, and I waved him off, dangling my legs over the edge of the bed.

But, when the person on the other end responded, my heart didn't fill with annoyance, as I thought it would. "Page?" a shaky voice called to me. It was Sam.

My eyes widened and I brought the phone into the other room, so not to wake Bryon up. "Sam? What's going on?" I asked, running a hand through my bed head. "Where have you been? Where are you? We're all so worried and Jess has been--" I heard Sam choking a sob on the other line, and even more concern fell across my face. "Sam...what's wrong?"

"J...Jess is..." he stopped.

I wasn't sure where he was going. Had Jess dumped him? "What happened, Sam...what'd Jess—"

He cut me off. "She...she's...Jess is..." he couldn't seem to come up with the last word, and I heard a shuffle for the phone and another male voice, this one much deeper than Sam's coming through the phone. "Page? This is Sam's brother Dean. Sam needs to...he needs to see you. Jess...is dead..."

My eyes widened and I nearly dropped the phone, and it was like someone stole the oxygen straight from my lungs. "I...tell him..." I tried to catch my breath. "T...tell him I'll be right there..." I said, hanging the phone up, grabbing the keys from the table, and not even bothering to wake Bryon up. I'd tell him tomorrow. I rushed out the door and to the car...and I don't think I had ever driven the five blocks it took to get to Sam and Jess' so fast. I don't remember inhaling or exhaling on the entire ride, either, but I must have, since I was still alive.

I got out of my car and stared at the scene before my eyes. The whole apartment complex was on fire, and people were trying to put it out. I searched the crowd of people for Sam, and saw, in the distance, he and another guy—I assumed it was Dean, but I hadn't seen him in so long that it was hard to tell—leaning on the hood of a 1967 Chevy Impala. I shoved through a group of people and rushed up to Sam. "I..." my words were drained from me, and even more so when Sam threw his arms around me, leaning down to burying his face in my shoulder. I wasn't sure what I could say in that position, anyway. Nothing I had to say would help him. I simply held him, and looked at Dean, who bit his lower lip and headed for the driver's seat of the car.

Sam looked at me with bleary eyes, and tried to catch his breath to speak. "I...I shouldn't have left..." he spoke softly. "I knew I shouldn't have left...I...I did this to her by not be--"

I stopped him. "Shut up. No you didn't. Sam...listen..." I moved some of his hair from his face and choked back tears of my own. "This...this isn't your--"

He shook his head and pushed away from me. "Page. I didn't call you here to have you make it go away, or whatever, okay? I called you here to say goodbye. Dean and I...we're--"

I looked up at him, taking a step toward him and taking a deep breath. "Goodbye? What do you mean goodbye?" I asked, bewilderment coming over my face. Where in the hell was he going? After this had happened? No. He wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't.

He took another step away and held his hand up, preventing me from saying anything else. "It's complicated. But Dean and I...we have some...business to attend to, okay? I--"

I felt a tear coming down my cheek, and I glared at him. "Complicated?! Complicated! You know what's fucking complicated?!" I stopped myself. No. Shut up, Page. Think about Sam. Think about what he needed and how he needed you to do this one thing for him, rather than always fucking thinking about yourself. "Fine. Fine...I..." I tried to think of what to say, and looked over my shoulder, hoping that something, anything back there would send me in the right direction. "How long...?" I asked him, wiping the tear away, and almost immediately feeling another coming down in it's wake.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I...don't know. But..." he paused. He wouldn't come close to me. "I...I'll call you. I...we just need to--"

I stopped him and took a couple steps away from him. "I...whatever, Sam. Just...just call me, okay? I..." I didn't say anything else, just turned and started to walk away. And as I passed a nearby car, I took a glance in the rear view mirror, to see Sam, getting into the passenger's seat of the Impala, and I stared as it took off. I choked a sob and wiped my eyes, taking a glance at Sam and Jess' apartment, or what was left of it, for the last time.