I don't own Supernatural, not one bit of it, so if you are planning on suing, please, please don't. I'm a recent college grad with negative money (I owe money) so please just let me use the brilliant characters.
Also, thanks for all the reviews, I love them.
-sn-
It had been a few years since he had seen Emily Moore. Jess had brought him home for breaks and holidays during college. Emily liked Sam from the start. She knew, like mothers do, that he needed a family, that he needed people to welcome him home. She could do that for him.
Emily stepped back and held Sam by his shoulders to look at him. She gently touched the bruises around his neck. "What happened, Sam?"
"Just an accident." His voice was a little stronger.
She searched his eyes and saw the pain, but also a strength and determination that wasn't there the last time she met his gaze. She glanced towards the van.
"My brother and a friend." He glanced back.
"Would you like to come in, they're welcome too."
Sam smiled slightly. "I just wanted to swing by."
"You're always welcome here."
He looked towards the ground. "I wanted to let you know." He swallowed back the pain of tears and the knowledge of being the messenger for that pain. Sam was the first to tell her about Jess. "I heard about Jeremy, and I want you to know that the person responsible for his death has been stopped." He whispered.
He raised his eyes to hers. She nodded, took a breath and once again pulled him into her arms.
"We seem to have this conversation too often." She whispered, not an accusation, just fact.
Sam nodded because he knew if he tried to speak, the tears that he worked so hard to keep back would break lose.
"I know it wasn't easy for you to come here, but seeing you always brightens my day, Sam."
He had to know, had to ask. "Do you blame me for Jess?"
She held him back by his shoulders and met his eyes. "I have never seen her so happy as when she was with you." She gently squeezed his shoulders. "No, Sam, I don't blame you one bit."
He nodded and swallowed. He cleared his throat. "I should head out. It was good seeing you again."
"You'll always have a home here. You know that, don't you?"
He smiled slightly, yeah, he knew that. "Goodbye."
She kissed his cheek before he turned and slowly limped back to the van. She watched Dean grip Sam's shoulder and meet his younger brother's eyes and then she watched him climb into the van and pull away.
Sam leaned his head against the window and felt the pressure of unshed tears in his head. His hands trembled slightly and he didn't know if he wanted to scream, run or fight. Dean watched his brother in the mirror and wished for something to say that would help, but all words seemed to fall short.
Dean turned in the seat. "Sammy?"
Sam turned his eyes to his brother even though he knew that Dean would be able to see the pain and anger there. He lowered his gaze to the floor before his older brother could see the depth of the pain.
"You okay?" He wasn't and Dean knew that.
Sam didn't answer for a moment before he shrugged. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry, Sam."
He looked up at Dean and nodded, his throat tight with tears again. He refused to let them fall. If he could keep one thing together, that's all he needed, control over one thing in his life. He could control tears.
"I asked her if she blamed me for Jess." Sam muttered, not even knowing why he was saying this. "She didn't." He looked up at Dean for answers. "I'm the reason that her daughter is dead." His voice broke.
"You didn't kill her."
Sam looked out the window because he couldn't stand the sympathy and compassion that spilled from Dean's eyes. "But I did. And she doesn't blame me, not even a little bit."
"She loves you, Sam." Dean shrugged.
"She shouldn't." He muttered so quietly that Dean almost didn't catch it, for Sam's sake he pretended that he didn't hear it.
He closed his eyes and took a breath. His fists were clenched at his sides and his jaw tight. Dean watched him for a few more minutes before he turned back around. The ride back to Bobby's was silent, nobody having any words that seemed to have the validity to break the silence.
Bobby pulled around back and turned off the van. "I'll get some blankets on the bed." He climbed out of the van.
Sam had fallen asleep against the window. His face pale in contrast to the bruising.
Dean hated to wake him. "Sam." He touched his shoulder.
Sam's eyes blinked open and he glanced over at Dean. Silent, he stiffly climbed out of the van.
"You need anything?"
Sam shook his head. "I'm kind of tired, so…" He let the word fade as he painfully climbed the steps up to the house.
Dean gave him a few minutes before he followed behind. The bedroom door was closed and Bobby was getting a couple beers from the refrigerator when Dean came in. He was handed a beer and they both sat at the kitchen table.
"He'll be all right, Dean. Just give him some time."
"I keep stumbling across parts of his life that I never knew about, and then I think that maybe he belongs there, that he never should have to be here doing this."
Bobby looked up. "Dean, that kid would do anything for you. Yeah, maybe a couple a places out there fit Sam, but he's not going anywhere without you." He smiled a little. "If he didn't want to be someplace, you'd sure as hell know it."
"But if he's only staying because of me-"
"I'm not." Sam leaned against the doorway. "I'm here because I have to, because ignoring everything out there, is the last thing I want to do." He couldn't speak above a whisper. "Dean, I don't want you thinking that you're keeping me from something, you're not."
He got a glass of water and went back to the room. Dean half stood, but Bobby's hand on his arm stopped him "Let him go, son."
Dean took a drink of his beer and hated that there was nothing he could do.
Sam eased his bruised and sore body onto the mattress and draped one arm over his eyes. His headache sharpened some and he just wanted to sleep. He took a deep breath to see how far he could go before his broken fibs protested the movement. He wanted to go back a week, before he had learned about the case, before he decided that he had to vindicate at least one of the Moore children, before he knew that he had to see Emily one last time. Suddenly everything was so tangled and complicated that he couldn't see a way out. The room darkened around him as evening approached and he fell asleep.
Dean and Bobby spent most of their time playing poker and drinking beer. Their conversations were limited, there wasn't much that words could fix at the moment.
Dean slipped into the room and glanced over at Sam. He smiled a little and carefully slipped his younger brother's shoes off and threw a blanket over him. Dean pulled of his boots and belt before he climbed under his own blankets. He lay awake for a while just to listen to Sam breathe, to know that physically Sam was going to be all right.