A/N: YAY for the Sam Needs Love, Too Campaign! I really like this story and I've got a bunch of things planned for Sam and Halley. Stick with me and share your thoughts?

Many, many thanks to stephaniew for betaing and having my back. Steph's a great friend and a talented writer...show her some love and leave her some inspiring reviews? Let's get her writing again...I think it's my turn to play beta. ;)

Reminder: Even chapters will be Sam's POV and odd ones - like this - will be Halley's.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter Three: The Ugly Truth

June 6, 2011

If you'd told me when he left that I'd see Sam again, I'd probably have laughed in your face and called you crazy. But the thing is back. He came to the hospital and I...

Before I knew what I was doing, I had agreed to go on the run with him while his brother hunted the monster that killed my father. It's crazy, right? I mean he rescued me from a demon, we had sex in a bathroom and he shows up a year later wanting to protect me?

I'm out of my mind. I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. I just accepted it. Go with the flow, Halley. Follow that gut... If Mom were alive, I'd be getting the bridge jumping lecture.

But it's worse than that - I lied to my boss. I told her Sam was my boyfriend. The one I thought got away. The first part isn't true...but the second part is.

He fascinates me. The man I met a year ago is not the man who approached me in the hospital. I can't explain exactly what it other than to say the look in his eyes broke my heart. He wasn't the confident hero who stormed into my life and plagued my dreams after a single encounter. He looked lost. Afraid.

Of what I'm not entirely sure, but he looked afraid. And I guess I'm just that girl. The one who wants to fix things. Maybe I'm too gullible. Maybe this a risk I shouldn't take. But something tells me I can trust him. That he won't hurt me. Which is why I handed him the keys to my car...

In the parking lot, I approach my Jeep with Sam following only a few steps behind me. I unlock the doors before turning to give him the keys. "How does this work?" I ask cautiously. "I mean, do you drive or..." He doesn't answer. I'm not sure what to do or what to say, so I just keep stumbling. "I mean I guess I need to grab some things from the house and..."

He takes the keys from my outstretched hand. Our fingers brush and a jolt of electricity filters through my body. It's like I've been struck by lightning. The sensations are different from what I felt before. He's shy and a faint blush spreads over his cheeks. It makes me feel like I'm a teenager all over again.

The first stretch of the drive is quiet. I give him directions, but he doesn't say anything. We're about to pass over the old bridge when he stops the car and pulls over. His breathing is heavy. He gets a far away look in his eye. I watch as he fumbles for the door handle and staggers out of the car. His footfall is heavy as he walks to the spot where we met.

I give him a moment before I approach him. My movements are slow. Standing a few feet away, I see his jaw tighten and his fists clench. It hurts to watch.

"What happened, Sam?" I ask finally. "You've changed."

He swallows and tilts his head back as if to admire the architecture, but I have every idea he's doing it to stem the flow of tears. I want to touch him. To comfort him. It probably sounds weird given what happened, but I can't help it. I'm drawn to him. Even more now than I was before.

His hands fall to his hips as he answers. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

I lean against the railing and look out over the river. I used to come here all the time. Now, except for passing over the bridge on my way home, I stay away. It's done nothing but make me think of him. Doing this here just seems fitting.

"Try me," I tell him, keeping my tone even. "I'd probably believe more than you think."

"Halley..." It's a growl. A warning. It's as though he's saying don't go there without voicing the words. But if we're gonna be stuck together, I figure we need to get this out in the open.

"Look, Sam," I say, "If you were gonna scare me away, I'd be gone already. I know you don't wanna be here, I just...I can tell." He looks at me, his eyes almost puppyish, but I hold up my hand. "Let me finish. What happened last year? I'm not that kind of girl. But I think you know that. Looking at you now, I'm thinking you aren't that kind of guy either. Jo said you had headaches. Is it some kind of a brain thing? A tumor?"

"It's not that," he replies. He seems a million miles away.

"Then what is it?" I plead. "There's something going on here. I think we need to get through it so we can move forward."

He closes his eyes and rubs his brow. "Fine," he says. "You're right. It's..."

He pauses before looking at me. I have to fight to breathe. His eyes are beautiful. They aren't cold or unfeeling the way I remember them being. They're color you see in pictures of the ocean and filled with - fear? pain? trepidation? - countless emotions.

"You need to promise me you'll let me protect you anyway. That you'll stay." His voice is filled with pain and uncertainty. I wonder what happened to him. What could make him so...broken.

I tilt my head, feeling my eyes well with tears and my brow furrow. I nod.

He leans next to me. He doesn't touch me, but I can feel the warmth of his body. "God, I don't even know where to start," he sighs. "The beginning's too far back."

Unable to resist, I reach out and take his hand. He's already rescued me once, it's my turn to save him. "Just tell me the important part and you can fill in the blanks later."

He looks at our joined hands. His thumb strokes over mine. It's like he's surprised. Like he hasn't been touched enough. How he can look like that and not be touched enough is beyond me.

Staring out at the water, he begins his story with the last thing I expected. "Your Dad was a minister, right? How much do you know about Michael and Lucifer?"

When he tells me his soul was trapped in Hell - that the man I met was an empty shell - I gasp. It's not that I don't buy his story. It's that I do. Faith is a funny thing. The cross around my neck and the teachings of my religion have taught me that sometimes you have to just believe.

Life isn't a movie. If this happened on the big screen, I probably would have scoffed. It's unbelievable. Impossible. Unreal. But the pain in Sam's eyes? The expectation of questions and disbelief? The fact that I'm being stalked by a demon? Things like that put this into an entirely different realm.

"So," he says, his muscles stiffening as he releases my hand. "That's about it. I have headaches because they put a wall up to keep me from remembering. But it isn't working. Bits and pieces are coming through."

"Like an old television, huh?" I ask, trying to lighten things.

He actually smiles. It's soft and sad, but it's a start. I decide I want to see more. More smiles. Maybe a laugh. "You believe me?"

"Shouldn't I?" I ask. "I am what I am. I've gotten in trouble for being trusting, but I have a feeling..." My voice trails off. I catch myself looking at his mouth.

I want to kiss him, but I know that's not what we're here for. He doesn't see me that way. He can't possibly. He's just here to protect me. And I'm okay with that. Guys like Sam - soulless or not - aren't interested in girls like me.

He scratches his head. "I guess I wasn't expecting it," he answers, oblivious to the spell he has me under. "I lived it and I'm not sure I believe." He notes the pink of the sky and leads me back to the car. "It's almost dark. We need to get moving."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam draws his knife as we make our way up the porch steps. Somehow it seems natural. It's almost like watching the sheriff pull his gun. "Stay behind me."

We enter the house cautiously. Everything seems to be in it's place, but he checks the whole first floor anyway. I listen quietly, hearing the drip of the kitchen faucet and the hum of the old air conditioning unit. My heart quickens and I'm sure at any moment my cat will jump out and scare the bejeezus out of both of us.

Upstairs, I grab a suitcase out of the hall closet. I let the door the my bedroom swing open and I'm greeted with a grisly sight. The suitcase clatters to the floor in front of me.

Whiskers lays on the floor in a pool of blood. Blood that has been spread on the wall to create words.

He can't protect you. You're next.

I sob as Sam's arms wrap around me. Strong. Warm. Safe. Mercifully protecting me from staring into the face of yet another loss by pulling me against his chest. "Don't look at it," he whispers. "Be strong. We'll get out as fast as we can."

Releasing me, he grabs the towel I carelessly tossed on the foot of the bed after drying my hair and drapes it over the body. I gulp for air and hurry to the bureau. I start throwing clothes into the luggage at my feet. Tears stream down my face.

I'm not sure how much more of this I can handle. How much more I can take. I start to say it, but I don't have to. I can tell he just knows.

"Tell me something about you," he says, coming to stand behind me. His hands rest on my shoulders as I continue to pack. "It's only fair we both learn something."

I know what he's doing. As a trauma nurse, I've employed the same tactic numerous times. But it's more than switching my focus to something else to calm me down. Standing a foot taller than me, he's using his body to block my view of the carnage.

"My Dad was a minister," I tell him softly. "But my Mom? She was a stargazer. A complete dreamer." I've hardly talked about her since her death four years ago, but this story is one of my favorites. "She was watching the comet streak across the sky when she went into labor with me. Dad wanted to name me Phoebe because of the biblical ties, but not Mom. Mom insisted on naming me Halley after the comet. And Dad? Dad loved her enough that he never could quite tell her no."

Sam shifts as I crouch to close the suitcase. I need to get out of this room. I don't know that I'll ever be able to come in here again. I pull the case out into the hallway, carrying the tote that was inside of it to the bathroom and filling it with my toiletries and hairbrush.

"Halley suits you," he says quietly.

"You think so?" I ask, looking at him for the first time since our discovery.

"Yeah," he answers. "I do."

We got in the car after that and we drove. The miles spreading like peanut butter on warm toast - easily melting behind us as the darkness enveloped the truck in its grasp.

This isn't like the movies though. Everything doesn't just fade to black. This is only the beginning. It's odd feeling losing everything - your remaining parent, your pet, your home - in just over a week.

What's stranger is I'm standing on the edge of something else. I don't know what it is yet. But I think it's gonna change my life...