Any questions in this chapter will be answered in the sequel. :) And no, that does not mean I'm done with this part yet. I still have four-ish chapters left. ;)

"You heard me right, Sammy. Your precious little Page slept with your brother, while you were out watching me in my window..."

Meg's words repeated over and over in my head like a broken record. She was seconds from death, and with her last breaths, she told me that. At first, I didn't want to believe it. But when I put that together with how the two of them had been acting so strangely since that night? It made sense. A painful amount of sense. The past couple of months had been hell. So much hell that I really don't want to recall them. But I'll lay it down in simple terms. We'd almost been killed by a demon trucker in a car accident (well, we came closer to death than we'd come the other million times we squared off), dad was dead and I had found out from Meg, before we finally killed her, that Page had slept with Dean. Yeah, I was angry. At both of them. But, God...my dad had died and I wasn't sure how to handle it. This was the situation where I'd normally turn to Page. But I wasn't sure who I could count on.

Dean and I had been fighting constantly. And Page and I had barely spoken. And I hated it. What was a person to do when the two people you thought you'd always be able to count on had betrayed you and lied about it? For months, even? I guess, in both of their defenses, I hadn't actually told Page how I felt, and I was...really acting like I was interested in Meg. I sat at a table in Harvelle's Roadhouse, my head in my hands, my fingers entwined in my hair. Had I...pushed Page away? Right into my brother's arms? I sighed and raised my head, and that was when I saw...Page. She was sitting across the room, by herself. Doing the exact same thing I had been moments ago. I stood up. Sure, I was still mad, but she...was my best friend. And the look on her face when Meg spoke of what had happened...I knew that she really felt bad about it. It wasn't that I forgave or, or that made it okay, because it didn't. But it was a start.

I paused before I reached her and looked at her for a second. She was crying. That sound always slayed me. And it was no different this time around. I stayed back and cleared my throat, watching as she jumped a little and looked at me. God, that face would make even the guiltiest man in the world cry. But I tried to stop myself. "Why?" I asked her.

She wiped her cheeks and looked at me still. "Why?" she asked. As if she didn't get it. No. I knew she got it.

I nodded and leaned backward, against a table. "Yeah. Why? Why did you do it?" I asked in a sad tone. "Why didn't you...just ask me if I was interested in Meg?" I tried to hide the pained look on my face, and not to look into her eyes.

She looked at me indignantly. "I wasn't aware that who I slept with was your business, Sam," she looked away from me.

My eyes narrowed and I started to walk away. But, no. I was going to say my peace. I had been silent for way too fucking long, and I'd be damned if I was going to just...sit aside and let Page treat me like this. "It became my business the second we kissed in Burkitsville, Page. I don't know what the fuck you think gives you the right to fuck with my emotions like that but it isn't fucking right," I spat. I was furious, and the fact that she was just...doing this? Made it worse. "I can't believe you actually thought that I'd sleep with Meg!"

She stood up. "What was I SUPPOSED to think, Sam? Honestly? You disappear to follow Meg around—the same woman you spent a NIGHT with while Dean and I were being tormented in Burkitsville?" she paused, then turned and started to walk away, a pained, angry look in her eyes. But she had no right to be mad, did she? I was the one who'd been screwed with here, wasn't I? "Fuck you, Sam. Seriously. You just...don't get it."

I walked up to her and grabbed her arm, watching as she struggled to get away. "Make me get it..." I said as I watched her turn around and look at me. "I want to get it, Page. I...don't want to be angry at you..." I bit my lower lip and sighed deeply. "Or Dean. I...need you guys right now. Please...make me get it," I begged her, watching as her eyes softened. I needed the Page that used to hold me and make the pain go away. I needed my best friend back.

She let her arms drop to her sides, and looked up at me, the same tears playing at the corners of her eyes again. I don't know what she was going to say initially, but rather than whatever that may have been, she breathed in deeply and looked at me. "Why have I never been enough for you?" she asked, her eyes pleading with me.

I felt the confusion on my face setting in like a stone etching. "Enough for me?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow, and her face fell sad again. "What...do you mean enough for me?" I asked again, watching that sadness spread across her face again.

She frowned. "That's why...Dean and I...that's why we did it," she nodded. "Because we felt like we were enough for one another. We felt like...we weren't...falling short," she explained, biting her lower lip, and I still didn't get it. Not even close, actually. What did she mean, enough for me? She was more than enough for me. Did I...not show it enough? We kissed all the time, and I was pretty sure that I always showed her my appreciation. I was about to ask 'why' again, but I saw her yank away from me. "FUCK, Sam. I FUCKING love you, okay?" she screamed.

I raised an eyebrow again, and showed her a concerned glance, but thought nothing of this, since we always said we loved one another. She was my best friend. "I l--"

She shook her head. "No. Sam, you don't get it. I LOVE you. I love you. I 'Sam and Jess' love you. I 'Sam and every other woman we meet but Page' love you," she was sobbing uncontrollably. "I have since I was NINETEEN FUCKING YEARS OLD! But you were SO WRAPPED UP IN JESS that I just said 'fuck it.' And went with Bryon. Because he showed me attention. And I was lonely and getting sick of pining away for you," she shouted. I was about to say something, but she kept going. "So, naturally, I was fucking ecstatic when we kissed. Because I thought, MAYBE that could be a new leaf for us. But no. Meg. So, I got tired of waiting. And Dean was comforting. And understanding. And yes, we had sex."

I wasn't sure what to think. At the start of that, I had been all but ready to bust at the seams and tell her that I loved her, too. But by the time she finished, I was reminded that she had sex with my brother. So, rather than tell her how I feel, I grabbed her face and pulled her to me, kissing her like we did before we constantly fought. But she pushed away and glared at me. I wasn't sure what I'd done, or what I was supposed to do, either. "I..."

"I JUST TOLD YOU THAT I LOVE YOU AND I MORE OR LESS FELT USED AND WHAT DO YOU DO? USE ME MORE!" she turned and started to walk away. "FUCK, Sam. I don't understand you!" she stopped, and it was like a sudden realization dawned on her. She turned toward me and showed me a sympathetic look. "You...don't understand you, either, do you?" she asked me, walking back to me and putting a palm on my cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

I stared at her for a second, those sympathetic, soft eyes locked on mine, and I...exploded in tears, pulling her to me and sobbing on her shoulder. "I'm sorry...I..." I cried, clinging tightly to her shirt and holding her to me. Everything was just so confusing. All the pain in my life was culminating into that moment, and I released it all into her shoulder. Not knowing my mom. Jess dying. My dad dying. Page sleeping with Dean. This sudden confession of love that I seemingly...didn't notice for years. I squeezed her tightly and sobbed even harder. "I'm so sorry...I...am not using you, Page. I'm not. I promise. I'm...I'm sorry..."

Page pulled out of the hug and looked into my eyes. "I know. It's okay. I was...just...so hurt, Sam. I felt like..." she moved some hair from my face and looked at the door. "I think maybe you, Dean and I need to sit down and talk. Let's...go get him, okay?" she nodded out the door, toward where Dean was working on the car.

I nodded. She was right. We all needed to talk. I kept my arm around her shoulders and headed for the door to the roadhouse, but when we got there, I glanced outside and saw Dean, still leaned over the Impala, seemingly unwaivering in his gaze. I walked up behind him and sighed. I figured I'd start out small. Well, big, really, but...I'd bring Page in after. "You were right..." I told him, watching as he lifted his head from beneath the hood.

Page stood a bit of a ways away, leaning against an old car in the lot. "About what?" he asked.

I felt a lump forming in my throat and bit my lower lip. "About me and dad," I whispered, trying as hard as I could not to cry in front of Dean. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know..." I said. "And...about...what happened with Page? I..." I pondered the best way to say this, but I figured up front would be the best way to go, "...forgive you. I'll let you get back to work," I said as I started to walk away.

I was almost at the door, Page by my side, when I heard the sound of glass shattering. And metal hitting metal repeatedly. Both Page and I turned around, and were about to rush over to him. But he had stopped. He was staring in awe at a woman, standing about fifty feet away and smiling at him. I'd only seen him with that look on his face once. With Cassie. But, god, this look exceeded that. It looked like he not...had actually fallen for her at one point. I opened the door quietly, and Page and I made our way though quickly, so Dean didn't see or hear us. And we listened to the scene as it unfolded before us. "Grace?" Dean whispered in a shocked tone.

Grace, as we now knew, took a step forward and nodded her head. "Hi, Dean..." she smiled sadly.

"Hi..." Dean's eyes widened. "Uh..."

Grace walked up to him, and stopped a couple feet in front of him. "I heard about your father, Dean. I'm...sorry."

I watched Dean hug her, and break down like I just had with Page, and decided that whoever this Grace woman was? She had it under control. Instead, I put my arm around Page and walked back inside the roadhouse. "I...think we should take a nap."

Page nodded, and turned to me when we got inside. "Yes. We should..." she said, pressing her lips to mine once more. And in that moment, I thought, maybe, things could be okay. Maybe.