Chapter 2: The Ghost of Christmas Past
"Sam and Dean Winchester," Sam heard the voice again barely hovering next to his ear, but his eyes felt so heavy that he doesn't want to open them. "Sam Winchester, can you hear me?" it tries again and the voice sounds so sing-songy and familiar...so beautifully familiar that the younger Winchester can't help but want to open his eyes. Everything was blurry around him as he fought to open his eyes. "Hmmm, Dean?" Sam mumbled, voice filled with drowsiness. "Dean are you talking to me?" Sam groaned and rolled himself over in bed, sitting up. He knew he'd heard a female voice coming from somewhere. Knuckling the sleep out of his eyes, Sam raised his head and let out a loud gasp, breathing out the words "Oh my god."
There standing in front of him was a face he was certain he would never see again. The warm, beautiful and unforgettable face of Jessica Moore. She was smiling tenderly and instead of wearing a long, bloody gown she wore a long, white dress with spaghetti straps laying loosely against her small, delicate shoulders. It seemed to flow out around her feet. She herself even seemed to emit some sort of soft glow all around her body, bouncing off of her golden curls that fell over her shoulders, down the sides of her face and down her back causing them to shine. "And I see you're finally awake," she told Sam playfully folding her arms over her chest in a teasingly, beleaguering gesture. There was a low grunt from behind her as Dean was slowly forcing himself to wake up, but Sam paid it no mind. Instead, he slowly rose from the bed, his legs trembling. He acknowledged he was still fully dressed just the same as he had been when he'd fallen asleep. That's right. He and Dean had pretty much drank themselves to sleep. So, he must be dreaming. This had to be a dream. What else could it be?
Sam had to take a few moments, his hazel eyes widening at the alluring sight that stood in front him, white teeth now standing out between her full, pink pouting lips. Her skin looked so soft that he just ached to reach out and touch it, but he was afraid that if he did, she would disappear. Here lately all he'd been doing was dreaming of Jessica, bloody and angry and accusatory but nothing like this. The younger Winchester swallowed hard a couple of times before finding his voice again. "Jessica?" he spoke in barely above a whisper, and the most wonderful sound filled the room. Her musical laughter. It had been years since he'd heard Jess laugh, and Sam felt like his heart would either swell and burst out of his chest or break into pieces and crumble around his feet; he couldn't decide which. So instead, he just let the erratic beating and the tightening sensation in his chest, working his way up to his throat, continue.
"Of course it's me, silly," laughed the girl. "Who else would it be?"
"I-but...I'm dreaming," breathed Sam as he stood in front of her on trembling legs.
"Or you're not," she spoke the same words in the same tone that Sam remembered from a couple of years ago back in that motel room, and he couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine at that. That had been Lucifer at the time. It couldn't be that...
"No, silly," Jess told him continuing to giggle her girlish giggle. "I'm not Lucifer. I swear. He's still safely locked away in his cage. No, it's really me, Sam. I promise you," she told him growing serious now. Jess reached out a hand to tenderly place, soft and surprisingly warm, fingertips on his cheek. Sam took in a breath of shock, certain that her fingers would go right through him, but they didn't. In fact, she was suprisingly corporeal. He lifted one large hand to place it affectionately over Jessica's and was relieved when his hand didn't go through hers. "Jess," Sam's voice spoke her name once more before gathering the woman in his arms and holding on tightly, doing everything to fight the burning sensation in his eyes. Sam held his breath to keep it from hitching as he buried his face into her neck and into her hair. She even smelled the same and felt the same, there in his arms. "I'm sorry, Jess. I'm so so sorry for everything," Sam began apologizing over and over, his voice changing tone and beginning to tremble.
"It's alright, Sam. It's okay. It's all okay. It's not your fault," Jessica told him back, and he relished the feeling of fingers tangling themselves up in the ends of his hair and her fingernails gently raking against his scalp. Just like she always used to do to comfort him. The young hunter decided right then and there that this dream was amazing and wondered if maybe he shouldn't drink himself to sleep more often if it would give him dreams like this. He almost laughed to himself, but he was smiling as he further buried his face down onto the top of her shoulder and held her flush to him just a bit tighter.
"Herrrmmmgrmbl Sam?" garbled Dean somewhere from behind Jessica, and Sam lifted his head to peer over her shoulder only to see his older brother was waking up. But then again...why would Dean be in a dream like this? Sam began feeling slightly confused as Jessica looked back over her own shoulder, Sam assumed, curious to see why Dean would be here at a moment like this. What a strange dream. Usually when his dreams involved Dean they involved his soulless self watching his brother get turned into a vampire. They sometimes even took a harsh turn for the worse with Sam watching his soulless self beheading his own vampire brother, but not this dream. Now what was even more strange was Jess and how she stood here, her touch warm, her voice soft, soothing and full of love for him. Not angry and accusatory and bleeding and burning to death. Now they were standing there with their arms around one another both watching Dean as though they were two high school children just getting caught by their parents locked this tightly around each other.
Dean was now sitting himself up in bed, scratching behind his head with one hand and stretching his arm above the other. He opened his mouth widely and let out a huge yawn. "What's going on?" the older Winchester spoke between a yawn and a grumble. Sam was truly too dumbfounded to say a word, his mouth just stood open slightly, eyes still widened. What exactly was happening here? Why was he dreaming of Jessica like this? Furthermore, why was Dean in the dream too? Especially during such a private moment as this. Dean did a little head shake with a goofy half-asleep grin on his face, his eyes at half-mast. As he looked up at his brother. Jessica unwrapped her arms from around Sam and Sam, reluctant to let go, followed suit. She turned toward Dean smiling her widest smile, even as the older brother's big, green eyes flew open and his hand shot under his pillow for his gun. He grabbed it and did a spectacular dive across the bed with the gun pointed directly at Jessica, standing just mere feet away from her.
"Sam?" spoke up Dean's voice, now clearly awake and alert more than it had been just a minute or so ago. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Dean, don't!" Sam exclaimed starting to make a move toward his brother, before Jessica laid a hand on his chest and smiled.
"Dean. I truly am sorry that I didn't get to stick around long enough to get to know you better," she began voice filled with deep honesty. "I wish I could've gotten to know you and the rest of yours and Sam's family more than just a 'hello, this is my girlfriend, goodbye," she told him softly. "But I want you to know that you can put your gun away. I'm not here to hurt you or Sam."
Dean's eyebrows were furrowed skeptically across his handsome face, his gun still pointing directly at her. "How do I know you're not lying?" he questioned in that trademark, gruff voice of his. "You look like something supernatural to me what with you standing in the middle of mine and Sam's motel room all glowy looking like you stepped out of A Muppet Christmas Carol."
Jessica couldn't help but laugh, and Sam still stood staring like a child in the starlab when the realization hit him. Cas was telling the truth. Jessica must be the first spirit visiting them tonight. This really was going to be some weird, angel-induced rendition of A Christmas Carol, wasn't it? "Well, maybe something like that," the young woman laughed as she placed a hand gently on Dean's shoulder. "I've sort of been sent here to do a job for you guys tonight."
"I get it," Dean began lowering his gun now, his brow loosening but his voice sounding somewhat derisive. "Cas, you bastard." he grumbled. "So I'm assume you most be Ghost number one?"
"Umm...she's...The Ghost of Christmas Past, Dean," Sam softly corrected, but the older brother chose to ignore him. Instead he just rolled his eyes at him.
"Well, if that's what you want to call me," the blond replied, still smiling cheerfully, her voice continuing to carry laughter. "I'm just here, doing what I was told, truthfully," she explained now serious. "Me amongst others really feel how important it is that you two see something. We feel that you need to be reminded of something very crucial to both of you boys," Jessica stated, her face devoid of the smiles it just had and her voice toneless and serious. She looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, keeping one hand on Sam's chest and the other on Dean's shoulder. "I want you to come with me." The boys closed their as a bright flash of light completely engulfed them, and it felt like they were flying momentarily before harshly landing on a couple of cushioned seats. The Winchester's eyes darted around their scenery before the sound of large, heavy wheels zooming across a set of pavement sounded from beneath them. It took a moment for them to realize that they were on a bus. It smelled heavily of warm people, duffel bags, luggage and coffee. As the bus hit a speed bump the poles in between the seats rattled metallically.
"Where are we?" Dean questioned, not moving from his seat. Sam stayed seated in his own, his hands clasping the sides of the cushion. "I don't remember ever being on a bus."
"You wouldn't, Dean," Jessica told him seeming to appear out of nowhere in front of the brothers, her piercing blue eyes moved over toward the younger brother. "But you would, Sam," she stated softly. "Why don't you boys look over there?" She pointed toward a lone figure in a seat of his own, curled up and seeming to make himself as small as he could get.
"Oh...oh no," Sam whispered as Dean stood up and he followed his brother. "I remember this now. This is...," but he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "Jess? Why'd you bring us here of all places? This? I can't..." Sam found himself turning away from his younger self, placing his hands loosely on his hips and staring out the window. They were on the same bus Sam had taken all those years ago to Palo Alto and begin his college life at Stanford. "Jess?" Sam questioned again, not looking at her, but still staring out the window. Sam dropped his head shaking it back and forth, waiting for an answer.
But the blonde didn't answer as Dean made his way forward toward the figure leaning against the window. Now that they were closer they could see it was Sam. Sam from about 10 years ago. An 18 year old Sam who'd drawn himself up as tight as he could in those seats and Dean had to wonder if this was even comfortable for his little brother and those long, giraffe legs of his when he saw the boy sniffle and wipe his face. "Sammy?" the older Winchester spoke softly sitting in the seat next to his little brother, but the young Sam didn't seem to hear him. He just leaned his head against the window, staring out at the passing scenery and every once in awhile tears would stream down his face causing 18 year old Sam to raise his sleeve and wipe them away only for more to replace them shortly after. "Dean," the young Sam's voice spoke up. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I really am so sorry. Please don't hate me, Dean. I don't want to not ever see you again. I don't hate you, Dean. I never hated you," the boy whimpered, raising his knees up to his chest and wrapping his thin arms around them.
"Awww, Sammy, man I don't hate you," Dean murmured to the young figure next to him. He reached his hand to try and place it on the younger boy's shoulder, but it went right through it. Dean lowered his head, making a fist with the hand that just tried to touch his younger brother. He stood up and leered at the blonde woman in front of him who's face was now unreadable. She just stared at Dean with those vivid, blue eyes of hers. "What was the damn point in showing me something like this, huh?" Dean questioned, his voice raised and harsh. "You actually think I wanted to see something like this!"
"Come with me," she told the boys softly, placing her hands on their shoulders to once more be enveloped in the blast of bright light. They landed harshly on their feet in what looked like an apartment. Loud dance music blasted through a set of giant, black speakers hanging on the wall. People were everywhere just hanging out, leaning up against walls or furniture, holding red, plastic cups in their hands filled with some sort of drinking substance, though Dean assumed it was beer. Across the room was a pool table where a couple of guys were shooting pool, poking fun at one another and yelling playful insults. There was a lot of talk and laughter and just about everybody having a good time. In the kitchen sat a half-eaten, giant birthday cake. Around it where even more red, plastic cups upside down and stacked on top of one another. There was also a stack of paper plates and pile of plastic forks. On the counter in the small kitchen were quite a few trays with different types of food and appetizers. Sam's eyes met Dean to see him staring at the plates of food and knew if he had his way about it, he'd be in that kitchen sampling every single tray there was. All of this was familiar territory for Sam. Jessica had brought them back to Stanford. It was Jessica's birthday.
"I remember this," Sam spoke up softly as he stared around at his familiar surroundings. "This was Brady's old apartment. This was also the first birthday of yours that we had together when we started dating," the younger Winchester found himself speaking softly, almost flabbergasted. "Why are we here?" And again, Jessica didn't answer. Dean gazed about at his surroundings, and across the living room stood the younger, college version of Sam, looking rather preppy, Dean had thought, with Jessica at his side. Sam's hair was much shorter than it was now, though still shaggy at the top and in the back, the tips brushing at the collar of the nice, dress shirt he was wearing. His arm draped easily around her shoulders, and they seemed to be talking and laughing with another friend of theirs. Sam couldn't help but flinch at his former self and at who they were talking to. It was Brady along with another friend Dean didn't recognize.
"This was Jess's birthday?" Dean questioned, the surprise in his voice evident at the almost poshness of the place, the people and the food. "Man, Sammy. I can't figure out why you weren't in that kitchen with a plate of food! Look at all that stuff. You guys must've eaten like kings and queens living here in sunny California," the older brother cajoled, punching his younger brother lightly on the shoulder. "I know my ass would've been in here sampling that cake. Amongst the other cake," Dean added with a wink. Sam just rolled his eyes while Jessica continued not to speak a word. She just stayed near the boys, her eyes flicking back and forth between them, sometimes staying on Dean for awhile and sometimes Sam. Before getting the chance to attempt to put his hand on the food, Dean was caught off-guard by a figure moving quickly past him as though trying to get away from the crowd of people. He turned his head jerkingly to see Sam politely pushing his way through people, apologizing profusely for accidentally bumping into them. Ever the Sammy.
Dean felt the urge to follow his wayward little brother and so he did, until he found himself standing in the middle of the hallway, with his college-aged younger brother clutching his cell phone in his hand looking nervous. Dean slowly approached this version of Sam and stood next to him, peering curiously at his phone. Sam flipped his way through the names on his contact list, coming to rest on Dean's name highlighted. His finger hovered over the send button, but then Sam just laughed mockingly at himself, shaking his head and muttering what sounded like "who am I kidding?" before clicking out of the contact list and shoving his phone back into his pocket. Pretty soon the younger version of Jessica moved right through Dean as she approached Sam in the hallway.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly, laying her hand on top of his.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," the younger Sam lied, a laugh accompanying and not being able to meet Jessica's eyes.
"Are you feeling sick?" she asked him tenderly, reaching up to brush a small strand of hair from his eyes. "I can take you back to my place and take care of you if you are."
The Sam of now chose to ignore the suggestive snort that came from his older brother.
"Nah, I'm fine. I think I'm just getting a little warm and tired. Probably just need some sleep," he answered softly, giving his best, fake Sam Winchester smile.
"If you're ready to go, Sam. We can. I'm starting to feel pretty tired myself. Just let me go tell Brady that we're heading out. I need to thank him for helping throw this party for me, and I'll just let him know you stepped out already, and that you're just really tired because you were up all night last night studying. How does that sound?" the blonde told him gently, her voice filled with understanding.
"What would I do without you?" Sam asked her softly, leaning down toward her face.
Jess just giggled. "Crash and burn," she spoke softly, before pulling him in for a deep kiss.
"Woohoo! Sammy!" Dean cheered as he watched the past version of his brother in a liplock with his girlfriend. Sam just reached over and slapped his arm, giving him an expression that said would you shut up already? Dean ignored his younger brother, snickering as Jessica and Sam broke their kiss and she disappeared from the hallway. Within what seemed like mere moments, Jessica was back and tugging on her jacket. She handed Sam his, and the couple were slipping out of the apartment door and onto the sidewalk. Both of the brothers felt strongly compelled to follow the twosome as they left Brady's apartment and the party behind.
~TBC~
Chapter 3 Preview: Dean grabbed the duffel bag sitting next to his bed and brought it up beside him. He unzipped it and dipped his hand inside of it digging through clothes and such to pull up a makeshift book with a tattered, blue covering. Sam never recalled seeing anything like that before in Dean's possession, and so he sat down on the bed next to the younger version of his brother, watching, waiting, looking to see what was inside of it. The Dean of now was leaning back against the motel wall with his head turned away, hardly being able to bear watching this, just as Sam had with his own scene. The younger Dean opened the book now in his lap to the first page and Sam had to hold back a gasp. It was a picture of him and Dean together when he was just a little baby. It looked like it had been taken in some motel room, but sure as rain it was a 4 year old Dean holding a bright, blue-eyed baby Sammy in his arms. Dean flipped to the next page and chuckled softly.