AN: It was brought to my attention that some countries do not used the symbol "–" to start dialogue, so, from now on, I shall use the most common way: "dialogue" Thank you for your attention and sorry for the inconvenient.

Chapter 5 – Silver lining

Her watch's arms pointed at 7:30 am. She was by the drinking fountain as usual, with her mouth full of water. She drank it and dried her mouth to her sweater. Sam had just got near her when she turned around and found him leaning against a tree right next to her, trying to play it super cool, like he hadn't rushed his step to get there.

"Well, hello." She said, with a surprised smile when her eyes found him there.

"Why the super happy face?" He asked, taking the two steps that separated them.

"I didn't think you'd come."

"Why?"

"I figured after last night and yesterday you would… stop coming. "

"Only if I was stupid."

"Aren't you?" She jested, making him smile.

He put his hands on her waist:

"So very funny." He said, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.

"For how long have you been running?" She asked as they started walking the usual road instead of running through it.

"30 minutes, why?"

"You look like and feel like a sweaty brute."

"Sorry."

"That's fine, Sam." She glanced at his eyes. He looked tired, worried, like he had just done something incorrect. "What's wrong? You look preoccupied"

"I'm fine."

"No you are not. I can tell. I have a gift."

"I just had a rough night. It's nothing."

"A very vivid bad dream?"

Sam swallowed pure emptiness as he reminded himself of the little fantastic chat he had the night before.

"Yeah, something like that."

"What was it?"

"Nothing that matters."

"Okay." She said, as she realized he did not want to talk about it.

"Marie?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Would you like to have lunch with me today?"

She pulled a face:

"I have to go to work today." He made a sad face when he was faced with her words. "But you can meet me there and we'll have lunch at the cafeteria or at this cute 50's diner in front of the hospital." She suggested, with a smile on her face and on her voice tone.

"I can't. Dean texted me a few minutes ago: he took the car. He… He's going to visit his… friend. She's probably just going to send him back but still, I don't have a car today."

"Oh, I see. And Dean is…."

"My brother." He said at the same time she asked:

"Your brother, right?"

She released a simple and almost quiet laugh.

"Well, I'm trying this new recipe today, for dinner, and I don't really like being alone at the house at night, I'm not really used to it. I should be, but I'm not. Would you like to come?"

"What are you cooking?"

"Peking duck with mandarin crêpe and some Chinese vegetables. I know, it is basic Chinese food, but I never actually made it and I'd like to try. And if it doesn't work out we can just order real Chinese."

"Yeah, that would be nice. Can I bring dessert?"

"No, I'm making Chinese fried bananas. But you can bring wine or coke and a small bucket of ice cream for the bananas, if you must."

"Deal. What time should I be there?"

"Hmm… I get home at seven, so between that and nine, maybe."

"Okay."

"Okay." She smiled. " I'll see you then, got to go to work." She gave him a quick kiss and then ran off, on her way home to get ready for work.

Sam went his way back to the motel. He found Dean's bed empty. Next to his bag of clothing was another bag: Dean left him some guns in case they were needed.

Sam took a bath, ate something and then got to work, trying to find something while wishing he did not. And the wish came through. He bought some take out from the bar next to the motel and went back to his room. He sit there all afternoon, watching TV. Day time TV was terrible, so he just watched some cartoon, like a little kid, while eating a bag of chips. He worked out for one whole hour: push ups, sit ups, squats. And then, when he looked at the clock and saw the big arm point to seven and the other positioned between 12 and 5, clockwise, he jumped in the shower and took a quick bath. He put some black tight boxers, socks, picked out a knit shirt he had, he did not use often, and a white t-shirt to wear under that. He put on the darkest jeans he owned and grabbed his backpack with a new pair of boxers in it, knife, gun, his dad's journal, cellphone, keys and wallet and left, taking his leather jacket with him.

On his way to her house, he stopped by a grocery shop and bought two buckets of ice cream: vanilla and macadamia nuts. He also took a bottle of the finest wine and Pepsi. He paid with a credit card.

"Would you like a bag to put that in, Mrs. Grogan?" The man behind the counter had to look to the credit card to get the name. A fake name.

"Yes please."

His purchase was put in a plastic bag and the plastic bag carefully placed inside his backpack.

"Thank you", said Sam, as he left the store.

A 30 year old man walked down the street. His eyes had 100 colors, his past had 200 variations of grey areas and a lot of wrong decisions and his soul… Well, he wasn't sure he had one. In that right moment that 30 year old man, named Sam Winchester, born May 2nd 1983, was a happy and relaxed man. The wind whispered violently between the trees and all the buildings, and streets, whistling a pugnacious but still smoothing melody. Only God knows how something apparently that violent could also be smoothing.

Sam's boots stepped on puddles of water from the night before, marked his step on the promenade. He climbed the six steps, at that time covered in leaves floating in small puddles of accumulated water. He rang the bell, the door opened and he ran up the stairs. When he got there, he knocked on the door.

"Just a second!" He heard her say.

Sam whipped his feet on the welcome carpet and, when looking down, saw a little bit of white chalk coming from underneath it, a part of a drawing. He lifted the carpet and saw it: a perfectly made devils trap. At that moment, she opened the door.

"What are you doing?"

"What's this?" Sam asked, with fear filling his eyes. Sam knew what it was, he just wanted to know why was it painted on the floor in front of her house. Was she a hunter too? Her roommate, maybe?

"That stupid drawing? We have a neighbor that thinks my roommate is in some kind of cult. I saw that drawing in some book so we decided to draw it there to scare her. Once a week we take the carpet off around 6 o'clock, that's when that neighbor gets home, and she just passes by it praying, super scared."

"That's… A weird and complicated way to scare a neighbor." He believed her, her eyes spoke only the truth and, after all, she was weird.

" I know, but what can I say, we are both weirdos. Did it freak you out? If it did, I can just take it out, with some alcohol or something."

"No, it's fine. I was just curious." He put the carpet back on its place and entered the house. He took his shoes off and went directly to the purple fridge, where he put the ice cream and drinks. They turned around and finally looked straight at her. Her hair was loose; she was wearing leggings and what seemed like a red oversized cashmere shirt, very fashionable and expensive looking. She had comfortable uggs on her feet and some perfume on her neck. No make-up; glasses. She looked beautiful.

"Hey." She said, when she found him starring.

He pulled her to him, and she glided gracefully to his arms, almost like dancing, and rolled her arms around his neck, holding a wooden spoon, as he hugged her by the waist still holding his backpack.

"Hi, gorgeous." He spoke, right before kissing her gently but with intense passion.

"How was your day?"

"Boring."

"Did you spend your afternoon looking to the ceiling waiting for the clock to reach seven hundred hours?"

"Something like that." Sam smiled.

She smiled too and turned to the stove, directing her attention to the cooking. You could feel the smell of the duck in the turned off oven. Marie walked to the shelves on her right and took a black serving platter to the kitchen counter. She removed the duck from the oven – she had already sliced it – and put it on the platter, next to a bunch of mandarin crepes and tiny little pieces of Lebanese cucumbers.

Marie then grabbed a bowl and stirred one last time the sautéed vegetables in the frying pan. He put then all in the bowl and then looked at Sam.

"Would you like to eat in the table" – she asked, as she looked at the kitchen table that had enough room for four people to sit around it and eat. – "or would you like to eat in the living room?"

"In the kitchen is fine." He answered. "Do you want me to lay the table?"

"No, thank you Sam. I'll do it in a second."

She took the food to the table and then grabbed two black porcelain plates and set them on the table, along with two tall glasses, silver wear and expensive looking fabric napkins. She then froze.

"Oh crap." She whispered.

Sam took two steps, leaving behind the space that separated them both:

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot to prepare some appetizers." Her face was pure self-disappointment, like she had done something terrible like killing someone or… ending the world.

Sam laughed a little as he hugged her and whispered:

"Don't worry, I don't eat appetizers. Appetizers are for sissies."

She smiled, almost laughing and looked up, right into his eyes and almost forgot what she was going to say:

"Let's eat then?"

The meal was enjoyed alongside with a conversation: there was no moment of silence. Then she tossed all the plates into the washing machine and did not let Sam help her. They moved to the living room and watched a horror movie that Marie borrowed from a friend at work. They watched it until they watched it no more and ended up covered by warm and smooth silk sheets with no clothes on.

As the clock reached 1am, Marie fell asleep and so did Sam, as the rain started to fall from the skies again.

A thunder fell from the dark night sky, waking Sam up. As his eyes opened, the clock arms moved to indicate 3:15 am. He turned to the left side and found that Marie was awake, sitting in bed staring at the book shelves, her back was literally turned to Sam – he could not see the girl's face.

"Hey." He whispered, with a hoarsely voice like his body wasn't 100% awake yet and his vocals were still a little numb from the 2 hour nap. "What are you doing up? Come back to sleep."

"No, thank you." She replied.

Sam felt oddness in the air, there was this feeling, this strange feeling in the air like something wasn't right, like… like in a horror movie. A thunder shouted outside as if it had important and terrible orders to deliver in that small town.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I know what you did Sam. I know what you are."

"What?" And fear was what came out of his mouth.

"I know about your psychic stuff, Sam. The demon blood, that you started the apocalypse, Lucifer's vessel. I know it all."

"How?" Something was definitely wrong there. It was like he was in a bad dream but it felt so real.

She laughed and it sounded terrifying, but still beautiful. You could feel the evilness in that laugher, in her voice. It was like she had something really monstrous planned and Sam was a part of it. Marie turned around and smiled like you smile to a 3-year-old that has no idea what you are talking about or like you would smile to someone very dumb that doesn't understand a very simple thing you just said. She smiled like she was having fun scaring Sam. Marie closed her eyes and opened them again. They were black, all black, and lifeless: demon eyes.

"Hi, Sammy."

Sam woke up in a rush, drenched in sweat, scared, and immediately looked to this left. Marie was there, sleeping soundly. It was just a very vivid bad dream, a terrible nightmare to have. And just as his heart slowed down and he took a deep breath, Sam heard the door opening. There was no sound of hanging keys: just the door opening and the steps of someone coming inside, slowly, as if not to wake up who lived there.

Samuel Winchester got up very slowly, also trying not to make a noise, and peeked out of the room. He saw a man, tall, but not taller than him, skinny, with a backpack. He had spiked hair, a piercing in his ear and a black punk leather jacket, dark pants. He didn't have a very nice look. Sam sneaked through the living room and got to him as he was looking inside some drawers in the kitchen. As Samuel moved his arm quickly to wrap the guy's neck, the man turned around and elbowed Sam in the stomach and got away from the hunter's attack. The fight started. Sam punched him in the face with all his strength, yet the burglar did not let it affect him too much. He punched him back and moved so fast Sam was having trouble knocking him down; it shouldn't be that hard, the guy couldn't weight more than 154 lb.

Things were thrown on the floor as they shove each other against everything around them with punches and kicks… It took only 30 seconds for Sam to corner him against the wall, and it took that exact time for Marie to wake up, get to the kitchen and turn the lights on.

"STOP!" She shouted, with pain and angst slitting her throat. You could almost imagine blood running inside her throat just by hearing the suffering in her voice. You could also get a little confusion in the order she shouted to the skies. Why were they fighting?

Sam looked at her, and so did the man, but he did not let go. His face was perplexed: why would she tell him to leave a thief alone, in her own house?

"Hello, my love." The blond hair/ green eyed man said. "A little help here?"

He let him go. Love? Was he her boyfriend or something similar? Sam looked at Marie with very opened and lost eyes: what the hell was going on? He wiped a tread of blood that slid down the corner of his lip. She had not glanced at Sam yet: her eyes were set on the mysterious man in the apartment. She walked towards him as he made his voice sound:

"Jesus, the first time I meet one of your boy toys and he's a maniac? God damn it girl, are you bad at picking them!" He then smiled; she was right in front of him. That smile would soon be gone, as Marie lifted her fist and punched him in the jaw. It looked like it hurt, by the look on his face, but not too much. "What the hell was that for?"

"It's the 500th time you just vanish for weeks! I had no idea where you were! I called so many times, but God forbid you from answering one damn phone call! I am tired of your shit, Billy! Clean yourself up, eat something and go to bed. Put aside your expectations for a warm welcome, this is what will be waiting for you from now on. I am done."

Marie turned around and walked to the bathroom. She returned with a first aid kit and put a hand on Sam's back, as saying «come back to bed». He followed her to the bedroom, they both sat on the bed and she opened the box in front of her. He had only two small cuts on his face: one in the lip and another one a little bit above his eyebrow. She cleaned then and disinfected them with all the sweetness and calmness of her being. She was not mad. She didn't even require justifications. Her lips drew a very small smile as she stroke his cheek with her thumb, holding his face with her right hand.

"Are you okay?" She asked. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Don't worry. I've handled way worse. This was just child's play." Sam answered, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"It looked like you were pretty angry back there."

"I'm fine now. I'm just tired of Billy disappearing all the time."

"So, I can assume that Billy is your roommate?"

"Yes, off course."

"Hm. Seems like… a nice guy."

"He has his moments." She grabbed his face and turned it so the wound would face the light. It didn't look too bad, but still… "You'll be fine. But your apple cheek is going to swell up. I'll get some ice."

He grabbed her by the arm as she tried to get up and walk to the kitchen. She looked at him with a question in his eyes: «what's wrong?» He gave a little smile.

"Thank you."

"For what?" She smiled, sitting again on the bed. "It's just ice, sweetie."

"I know. It doesn't matter why. Just… Thank you." She wouldn't find out the «why» for a very long time, she wouldn't find out how grateful he was and how good that moment was for him. That was the first time, in a very long time, Sam didn't need to take care of his own wounds. How nice would it be to have her on his hunting trips? He'd never had to leave her and he'd always have someone waiting for him to get back and stitch up his cuts. «Oh god! How selfish.» He thought. But… that simple physical jester meant a lot: someone besides his brother cared about him. It was weird, that was true and Sam knew it.

She smiled and kissed him gently trying not to hurt him.

"I'll be right back."

She got up and walked to the kitchen. Billy was there, eating a sandwich. He looked at her.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." She answered. There was a moment of silence.

"You really like him." He said, in a low voice.

"Why do you say that?" She wanted to know, holding a folded tea-towel with four ice cubes in the middle of it.

"I've been your best friend for 20 years and you just yelled at me and treat his wounds instead of mine. You took his side, not mine. You are either really mad at me or you really like him." She did not respond. "Marie, c'mon." She continued in silence. «Is it both?» And her face said 'yes' without her ever needing to speak.

"You haven't liked someone in a very long time."

"He'll leave eventually; he's just taking a small… vacation. So it doesn't matter."

Billy looked at his best friend with the most caring eyes and saw the look on her face: that fact actually made her a little bit sad.

"Marie…"

"No, don't 'Marie' me. I'm fine, it's a fact I accept." She looked at him. "I'm glad you're back, Billy, I really am." Her best friend smiled when confronted with such nice words. "But I'm still mad at you." He laughed and she walked away, disappearing into her bedroom. Billy watched her leave: how cruel and unexpected life (and love) was! Amazement, beauty, kindness and chemistry can take your heart in just a few days, sometimes even in a few hours and then life itself it's all it takes for that heart to be crushed; special in more fragile moments or when referring to a more fragile person. Marie was not fragile at all, but that particular phase of her life was. The last guy she actually liked had left two years ago, she kicked him out for very specific reasons and, after that, and no one knew why, she just never actually liked anyone again. She had other boyfriends, sure, maybe two or three, but it only lasted a couple months or something: her heart just didn't fell for them. And then Sam came and so did life. It was usually like that for her: when someone good came to her, it didn't take long for bad luck to knock on her door.

Yes, Marie had been thought, along her life and in the hardest way, every silver lining has its cloud.