Sorry ya'll, was at a friend's house all this week, but camp later this month is the only other trip like that all summer, so more time for writing and shorter waits for ya'll! I'm also hoping to start on that sort-of sequal to Time's Redemption soon. Anyway, sorry again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :) I can't wait to hear what ya'll think; have a great day! Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 13

The open coffee shop area on the lower floor of the split-level Stephens Student Center was at the base of a wide flight of stairs that led up to the cafeteria where Sam and Dean had eaten that morning. Sam came in through another bank of glass doors just across from the base of those stairs, and took in the coffee counter and the arrangement of tables, armchairs, couches, and coffee tables.

It took a moment to spot Abby, because she'd pulled her hair up into a short bob of a ponytail since he'd seen her that morning. She was curled up on one of the couches on the far end of the room, reading.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and weaved his way to her, already a little uneasy. "Hey," he said to announce himself.

Abby looked up from the book after a moment. "Hey." She set the book down and unfolded herself to stand. "Let's get some coffee."

"You haven't ordered any yet?"

She shrugged. "I was hoping for company," she said as he followed her to the counter. She glanced back and grinned. "Word on the street was I wouldn't be drinking my coffee alone today."

Sam chuckled lightly, and in a fit of chivalry he picked up his pace and made it to the counter first, telling the young man there that their order was together and he would be taking care of it. Abby gave him a look, but didn't comment until they had their drinks, he'd paid, and they were turning away from the counter again.

"You didn't have to do that," she said immediately. "After all, I'm the one who asked you meet me here."

"What? Can't a guy be nice?"

Abby raised an eyebrow at him. "That depends," she said, and smiled. "Am I supposed to be reading something from said simple kind gesture?"

Sam felt his own warm smile wanting to falter, but he held it in place and did allow his head to duck. "I'm not sure…" he admitted honestly. He just hoped the truth wouldn't put their meeting off to an immediately awkward start.

Thankfully, Abby didn't stop smiling. Instead her hand on his elbow guided him firmly back to the couch she'd been sitting on when he walked in. "It's fine, Sam, and thank you. Come on, sit." She perched on one end of the couch, and Sam lowered himself to the cushions on the far end.

"You're welcome…" he said, in bashful response to her thanks.

They both gulped at their coffee for a moment.

"So…any luck today, Agent Mayers?" Abby asked.

Sam shrugged. "Not a whole lot, but we might have a lead. Again, that's really all I can say."

"I understand," she sighed.

He studied her for a long moment. "How have you been doing? Really?"

It was Abby who shrugged now, shaking her head. "I don't know. I really will be all right, but I just…I don't understand. I wish I knew why these things happen." She grimaced. "It's not the first time."

His eyebrows went up. "Not the first time people were killed on this campus?" He hadn't come across anything like that in his research…

She shook her head again. "No, no. I'm sure this is the first time that's happened, thank goodness. I mean…" She took a steadying breath. "I mean I've lost a close friend before."

"Oh…" The pang in his chest had nothing to do with his damaged heart and lungs. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks…It was a couple of years ago. I'm all right, I guess. I just never expected anything like that to happen again."

Sam nodded silently. A couple of years could help, true…but he knew it still hurt. He also knew that going through something so horrible didn't mean one was immune to going through it again.

Abby held up her coffee cup as if to punctuate a thought. "But I've still got Michelle and Cody here." Cody, he remembered, was the roommate of the other victim—the young man they'd talked to earlier today.

"They're not the only ones, either," she continued. "And we've only got a few weeks left here. Then I'll be home, for a while, anyway. I have a lot of friends back there who never left. They either started working or went to community college. As long as I've got them, I'll be all right." The corner of her mouth curled up. "I don't guess you really want to hear about the other reasons I know I'll be okay."

His head tilted to the side a bit in pretext to the ambiguous answer that was the only one he had. "Well…I've never been a regular churchgoer, but I guess you could say I believe…sort of. I know what you're talking about, anyway."

"Well then. That gives you a few points," Abby grinned.

"Thanks, I guess?"

She laughed for a moment, and she wore a wistful smile when she quieted. "Huh…it's been a week or so," she admitted. Since she'd really done that, she meant. Sam understood.

Abby sat up and took a sip of coffee. "Anyway. I didn't ask you here to bring you down with all this. I'm fine, really. Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself? I'll reciprocate, I promise."

"Well, as long as you promise…"

It took a lot of editing, as it always did, but there was enough to tell to keep a good conversation going, and he knew he was enjoying it. They were there more than an hour later, cold empty cups still clasped in their hands.

"Stanford? Really? I wanted to go Ivy League when I was a kid. Then I found this place. I actually had a friend who went to Stanford though…" Abby trailed off.

"Had? They graduated already?"

A small, sad smile. "She would have, or would be soon; I'm not sure. We were a lot closer in high school than we ever were once we went our separate ways for college. I regret that now."

Sam's face fell. "Did something happen to her?" he asked tightly. He told himself this wasn't going where part of him thought it was. The world couldn't be that small.

Abby nodded once. "That's who I was talking about before, yeah," she sighed. "It was so…out of the blue, just like this. There was some kind of fire in her apartment building…and I'm not even sure they ever nailed down the source. One day I'm still waiting for her to answer the first e-mail I'd sent her in weeks, and the next I'm getting a call from her sister."

He felt like he'd been sucker-punched. He had to fight keep his face from registering the shock. "Jessica," he said, before he realized he'd spoken the name aloud.

Abby blinked at him. "What?"

Sam swallowed hard, avoiding her eyes. "I uh…I was still at Stanford…then. I remember that accident happening." Much too vividly. "I actually…I'd met her. Jessica, I mean. Jessica Moore."

She stared at him, digesting that. "Yeah. That was her. Wow…I…that's weird."

"You're telling me."

She swallowed once. "So…how well did you know her?"

Best not to get into the details. "We were…in the same circle of friends," he answered vaguely. It wasn't a lie—a gross understatement; a major fudge of omission, for certain—but not a lie.

Abby still seemed almost as shell-shocked as he. "Oh…then…do you know whatever happened to her boyfriend? I never met him, but I tried to get in touch after what happened…to check on him…but by the time I got around to that he'd disappeared. That's what Jess's other friends said, anyway. All they knew was that he left with his brother…took some time off, but then he never came back. I never did get in touch. I felt so horrible about that."

Sam didn't trust himself to say anything just yet, so he only shrugged and shook his head.

"Oh…okay." She tried a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. It's been an unsolved mystery for two years; I guess we'll be all right if it stays that way."

He couldn't help but smile some at her attempt to lighten the mood again. It was working a little. "Yeah." But he knew he couldn't stay here—not tonight, not right now. It wasn't Abby's fault, but he had to get out of here.

Sam slid almost off the couch, barely perching on the edge. "Anyway, I should probably go. My partner and I'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

She sighed. "All right. Well…will you be back for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Ah…" He knew he shouldn't say yes. It was a bad idea. But looking at her, he couldn't say no. "Sure. Probably."

"Good," she smiled. This time the smile seemed more personal than usual; this time, knowing what they knew, it meant a lot more.

Sam left feeling shaky, and had to stop just outside the building, hands gripping the back of a bench set in the grass near the lake. For a moment his vision faded out, and he had to focus to breathe.

"Sam?"

He spun, and the bench was the only thing that kept him from toppling over. "Abby?" He hadn't expected her to come out so soon.

"Are you all right?" she frowned.

"Yeah, yeah…just trying to remember where I parked," he covered quickly. He smiled sheepishly and headed up the hill to the parking lot before she could suspect anything, and when he glanced back she was walking the other way, in the direction of the dorms.

She glanced back and caught his eyes, and he turned away and hurried on as fast as he could without his chest complaining.

By the time he made it back to the motel, his chest hurt anyway. The fact that he'd been breathing heavily almost since he'd left the student center probably had something to do with that. He hadn't meant to start, and was trying to stop, but his mind was spinning.

Dean adopted that worried look the moment Sam came in, but he couldn't help that. He dropped onto the edge of the first bed, his, and his brother was at his side in a moment.

"Sam? Are you okay? What happened?"

He shook his head. "Nothing happened. It was fine. It's just…" His head dropped into his hands. "God, what's going on?"

"What?"

"We got to talking, and…Dean…she knew Jessica. She's the one that brought it up, even, because she was saying that she didn't understand why she had to go through losing a friend again, or something like that. She knew Jess. They were friends in high school."

Dean sank onto the edge of the bed beside him. "Okay…yeah, that's weird."

"I knew her name sounded familiar, the first time I saw it in that folder. I ignored the feeling then."

"Sam…things like this happen. Why do you look so freaked out? It's just a coincidence."

"If it was just this, sure, but just a couple of weeks ago there was that girl in Mississippi. That was a pretty big coincidence, too," he swallowed, looking up at his brother.

Dean frowned, trying to remember. "The kid with the name? Okay, so that's two freaky coincidences in two weeks. We've seen stranger. It's nothing."

He barely registered the fact that one of his hands was fisting unconsciously in his shirt as he shook his head in answer. "No…I don't think so. What's going on?" he repeated.

"Nothing is going on," Dean answered firmly, resting a hand tightly on his shoulder. "Take it easy."

Sam barely heard him. "It's like…something's trying to tell me something…or tell us something. I don't kn—" He stopped abruptly when his air ran out, and he realized he wasn't getting any more.

"Sam!" Dean grabbed his arm and pounded his back with the hand that had been on Sam's shoulder, and after a few seconds he was able to pull in a sudden breath. That was followed by a careful, burning slow one that assured him his lungs were cooperating again.

"I'm sorry…" he grimaced, rubbing his chest.

Dean's arm squeezed his shoulders once before Dean stood, huffing. "You gotta stop seeing stuff where there's nothing to see, man," he sighed. "You can't get freaked out over nothing. Hell, we both know you don't need to be gettin' freaked out by anything right now."

"I said I was sorry."

"I know, I know. I know you're sorry. Just…remember that you promised to be careful, okay? You've gotta be careful."

"I know."

Dean nodded, calming down along with him. "Good. Good." He pulled out the desk chair and straddled it. "So…besides the weird coincidence thing…how was it?"

Sam sighed weakly. "I told you; it was fine."

Dean stared at him.

"It was…nice."

His brother rolled his eyes and gave up trying to score any details—gave up for now, anyway. "See? Wasn't such a bad idea, was it?"

"I guess not," he admitted. It hadn't been. It really hadn't been bad at all. He knew he was still a little shaken over this newest information, but…he knew it didn't change his perception of Abby at all. The connection wasn't her fault, and...it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was just surprising, was all.

Maybe Dean was right. Maybe the coincidence was nothing. Maybe he was overreacting...

Dean nodded. "So stop freakin' out."

"Yeah...sure."

The knock on the door brought Dean up out of his chair, and it was Bobby waiting outside.

"You boys all right? I heard Sam pull in pretty sharp out there..."

"Everything's fine, Bobby," Sam nodded, from where he still sat on the bed.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, he's fine—just got a little spooked."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Spooked?"

When his brother glanced back at him Sam shrugged in permission, and Dean explained. "Apparently he just found out this girl knew Jessica pretty close," he said quietly.

Now both eyebrows went up. "Sam?"

"I'm fine," he repeated. "It's just a coincidence." He still wasn't sure he believed that, but there was no use worrying about it now. There was no way to know.

Bobby sighed. "All right...well..." He looked back and forth between both boys. "I don't guess you've really eaten; I can order pizza."

Sam let out a breath. "Yeah...that sounds good right about now."

He knew he could use the comfort food; now that he was past the panicked confusion, he could think. Dean was right…he really had enjoyed himself, and…he knew he liked Abby. And what had happened wasn't her fault, but…

That didn't change the fact that, if it was true, if she had known Jessica…he couldn't do this.

By the time they made it to breakfast the next morning, Sam really did seem all right—if, maybe, it was a little bit forced. He smiled easily at Abby when she appeared at their table again, and didn't flinch when she started some sort of apology about the night before.

"What? Don't...apologize for that. It doesn't matter. It's fine, really. If anything, I...guess it gives us more to talk about. Sometime."

Abby smiled sheepishly. "I guess so."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah...and besides...I really did have a good time last night."

"Me too," Abby answered.

Dean was glad to hear it from both of them, but the way they kept smiling at each other was about to drive him insane.

"Hey...you guys had to talk to Cody too, right?" she asked later.

"Uhm...yeah," Sam answered in confusion.

"So you know what he looks like."

"Right," Dean confirmed. "And?"

"Have you seen him? I've been trying to get a hold of him since yesterdy afternoon. I haven't seen him, and he's not answering his phone."

Dean exchanged a glance with his brother. A sign of more trouble? the expression on his face read. Dean shrugged, and Sam answered the question.

"No...we haven't seen him."

Abby sighed. "I know Cody's still upset, but he never stopped answering his cell phone before now..."

"Because I didn't accidently let my phone die before yesterday."

Dean looked up sharply, saw Sam do the same. Abby jumped and twisted around.

Cody Woodrow was right behind her.

"Sorry; didn't mean to scare you guys," he said immediately.

"Cody, for crying out loud..." Abby growled. The young man took a seat beside her.

"Hey...aren't these the FBI guys?" he asked.

"That's us," Dean agreed enthusiastically.

Cody glanced at Abby. "What are they doing in here?"

"They're here to spy on us," she said mischievously.

Sam smirked. "That was yesterday. Today it's just that the food was decent and decently priced."

"Oh, that's all?" Abby asked.

Sam didn't say anything in response to that, but his face answered for him--most likely against Sam's will. Dean couldn't help but smirk in happy amusement. He was sure he'd found a way to keep his brother content for as long as they were here in Ohio.

Then breakfast ended, and his hopes were sent packing again.

He saw Abby stop Sam, and hung back just close enough to pick up the conversation.

"So...I know things might be a little weird now, but...you were right, when you said we have more to talk about now. I mean, we don't have to. But we could. Or not." She took a breath. "Either way, ah...do you think we could try that coffee thing again this afternoon?"

Huh...it seemed Abby wasn't much more comfortable around the opposite sex than Sam was. Perfect couple, those two--one more reason he didn't understand what he heard next.

"Abby...listen. I wasn't lying; I had a good time last night, but...I don't think doing it again would be a good idea."

Dean focused out the window, pretending he couldn't hear, pretending he was only waiting. He resisted the urge to spin around and look. What??

Abby was apparently thinking the same thing. "What?" she said, echoing his thoughts. "Why not?"

"Because...I'm pretty sure we'll be finished here soon. Then my partner and I'll have to leave, and..." Out of the corner of his eye Dean saw his brother shrug.

"I know that, and I understand. I just wanted to have another chance to talk to you--"

"I'm sorry; I don't think I'll have time..."

No one else would have picked up on it, but Dean heard the tension in his brother's voice clear as day. Sam didn't want to be doing this.

So why the hell was he doing it?

Dean knew he would barge into the conversation if he stayed where he was, so he headed out. He waited out on the sidewalk and caught Sam's arm when he came out a few moments later, shoulders slumped and hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey. What was that?"

"Whoa—! Dean. Oh. What?"

"What was that?" he repeated.

"What was what?"

"That with Abby! I thought you were okay about last night."

"I am," he shrugged. "I'm fine about it. I'm glad I went."

"Then what'd you break up with her for?"

Sam stared at him like he was crazy. "Dean, there was nothing to break up. We had coffee once."

"Well why not do it again?"

His brother huffed. "If you heard enough to be asking me about this, then you heard what I told her." But he didn't seem ticked off about it.

"Yeah, I heard plenty."

"Then why are you still asking questions? You know it was the right thing to do, Dean. It would have been wrong to lead her on. I wouldn't do that to her."

Why did Sam have to be so dense? "She said she understood that you'd have to leave! Why skip the chance just to hang out again? Maybe there wouldn't be any point to that for me, but you're different."

"Maybe." He sighed and looked away. "But it's not about me."

"Sam—" he protested.

"That's it, Dean. I told her that it's nothing personal, but I won't have a chance to spend any more time with her. She understands."

He sighed. "Yeah...I know she understands. She's that kind of girl. That doesn't mean she's not hurt."

"Not hurt, Dean, just disappointed, probably, though I hate even that. She could have been hurt if I'd waited. This way, it's just coffee. There's nothing more involved, and there's no hard feelings. That's the way I want it." But his eyes told much more than he probably wanted to admit even to himself...and what they told wholly contradicted the last thing he said.

Sam didn't give his brother time to respond. He turned and headed for the car, leaving Dean to kick himself for creating another mess.

The original plan had been to spend the day tailing Professor Ray, while Bobby tooled around for any further information and checked out the man's house while the boys kept an eye on him. Instead, the first half of the day was spent in a fruitless search for the professor. He was nowhere to be found, and soon the rest of the campus realized it, too.

With the whereabouts of Professor Ray unknown, there was no way they could search the house. There was no way to make certain that he wasn't coming back. They took to the sewers instead, searching for any clue at all. If there was no vampire nest, down there was as good a place as any for whatever-else to hide its sorry ass. Dean was already reluctantly admitting that he suspected a shapeshifter, after the encounter with the professor.

"And damnit, if that's what it is, we could have been telling the thing we were hunting it," he mentioned at one point. Sam didn't like the fact that he was probably right.

"Maybe we should hit the professor's house tonight anyway," Dean said as the three hunters climbed out of the sewers that afternoon, shoes wet and no closer to finding what they were looking for.

Bobby nodded slowly. "Even if the thing's not there anymore, we might find something."

"Sure," Sam nodded.

Dean skewered him with a look as they split from Bobby and made their way back to their respective vehicles, parked in a gravel lot behind one of the buildings on the edge of the campus near where they'd entered the sewers. "And you're not coming."

"Dean—!"

"We've already had this argument more than once, Sammy."

Sam huffed, not even bothering to argue this time. It wouldn't help. Besides that, they weren't even certain there was anything in that house. If they'd been sure, he probably would have argued more.

At least Dean had let him in the sewers with them.

"Fine, but I'm not sitting in the motel room either. I'll come and wait in the car."

"Sam—"

"Compromise, Dean."

His brother rolled his eyes, and finally pulled open his door and climbed in. Sam slid in beside him, just as Dean sighed. "All right."

"Good."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "So being reduced to driving the getaway car seems better to you than just sitting out?"

"Yep." He would feel like he was doing something, anyway. As long as he didn't feel completely useless, he could deal.

As long as he was doing something—or felt like he was doing something—he wouldn't be able to think.

"Suit yourself," Dean shrugged.