Sam

"The days leading up to his death, did you notice anything strange? Change of behavior or routine?"

Mary Margaret sat in silent contemplation for several moments, dabbing her misty eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry, all this just happened so suddenly. Graham was a good friend."

Sam nodded, "I understand. Please, take your time."

She smiled weakly, flashing dimples, gulped, and took a breath. "There was something. Yesterday afternoon Graham came here to see me. He was frightened, panicked. He asked me how long we've known…we knew," she exhaled sharply, "each other. How we met. Said he couldn't remember anything before Storybrooke. But he was sick, burning up with fever. I should have called Dr. Whale. Maybe this wouldn't have happened." She blew her nose into the tissue. Sam offered her a new one and she gratefully accepted.

"He was very sick, I doubt there was much you could have done. Don't blame yourself." Sam placed a hand on hers and patted it reassuringly.

"Thank you," she sniffled.

"Now, how did the two of you meet?" Sam felt a bit guilty pressing the inquiries with Mary Margaret in such an upset state, but he had a job to do. Something wasn't setting right. Sam had heard of an individual experiencing amnesia after a heart attack, but before? How could a man, healthy as a horse, who had no history of dementia or heart disease, suddenly forget where he came from, suffer a severe heart attack, and die? None of it added up.

Mary Margaret furrowed her eyebrows and a period of silence elapsed. Sam eyed her curiously. "Is everything okay?"

Her brown, doe-eyes met Sam's and she frowned. "I can't remember."

Can't remember. Now that's interesting. "What do you mean you can't remember?" Sam encouraged.

She flicked her dark bangs away from her eyes and then tightly folded her hands in her lap. "Like I told Graham, I think after a while, life becomes hazy. It's hard to keep up when everything's constantly changing. I have a hard enough time keeping track of my own life." She laughed ruefully.

Sam nodded. She had a point. Much of his life had become a blur as well. But I still remember the moment I met my closest friends.

"You said he mentioned not being able to remember anything before Storybrooke."

Mary Margaret adjusted her long, floral skirt and leaned forward in her chair. "Yes. He was so scared."

Calmly, Sam asked "And what about you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Her face paled. "I…I don't know."

This was getting stranger by the minute. Sam glanced at his watch. He needed to wrap up this interrogation and meet back with Dean soon, see what he found out. Bet I've out-weirded him, that's for sure. Mary Margaret continued to search her mind with increasing puzzlement.

Sam frowned. "Listen, if you remember anything, anything at all about Graham," he paused. "Or yourself. You give me a call, alright?"

She nodded. "I will. Thank you agent Carroll."

Sam rose from the student desk he was sitting on and strode towards the door.

"Wait, agent Carroll!" Mary Margaret hurried down the aisle of desks towards him. "There was something else Graham asked me yesterday that was a little strange. He asked me if I believe in past lives."

Past lives. There were many things Sam believed in; angels, demons, ghost, monsters. But those things were real. He'd seen them, hunted and killed them himself. He'd died and been brought back to life, but back to life in the present. Sam wasn't sure if he believed in reincarnation, but it was an interesting detail to have pop up in such a bizarre death case.

"Thank you Mary Margaret, I'll be sure to include that detail in my report."

Once outside the schoolhouse he loosened his tie and rang Dean on his cell phone.

"How'd it go, Sammy?" Dean seemed to be in a much better mood than the one Sam had left him in. He'd been really spooked by the vision of Graham's death and Sam couldn't blame him. Having experienced them before himself, he knew how unpleasant such glimpses of the future could be.

"I'll tell you about it at the diner. I just want to swing by our room and change first. Let's just say it was interesting."

Dean chuckled. "Funny you should say that. That's the word I would have chosen to describe my afternoon. Good thing I had that vision or we wouldn't have known anything weird was going on at all."

Sam's mood sobered. "About your vision Dean-"

"I mean, I found out some really weird-ass stuff!"

Sam sighed, why was he not surprised by Dean's evasion? He decided to let his brother win. For now. "Twenty bucks says my findings were stranger."

"Hoho, Sammy, you should not have done that. I'll take that bet, bitch!"

"Jerk." Sam grinned, ending the conversation. As he walked to the inn he reconsidered Dean's words. Good thing he had that vision? In this case perhaps, but the elephant remained; why did Dean have the premonition in the first place?

To Be Continued...

A/N: I'm baaaack. I apologize for the disappearance. Long story short, don't get carpal tunnel, guys. It's not fun. As always, thanks for the reads, the reviews, and the follows; I live for them :D Also, I want to apologize for killing Graham (again) but it had to be done. I do adore him, and I cried for many hours when he died on the show. Maybe someday I'll give him his own fic :)