The Darker Side of Heaven

Chapter 7: World So Cold

I never thought I'd feel this guilty and I'm broken down inside. Living with myself, nothing but lies.- World So Cold by Three Days Grace

Sam couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in hopes that if he found a comfortable position he would be able to fall asleep but he knew that it was more than just being uncomfortable keeping him awake. His mind would not be quiet long enough for him to go asleep even if he did manage the elusive position that would allow his body to get the sleep it craved after spending the afternoon and most of the evening walking aimlessly around town with Nick, talking about a little bit of nothing and everything all at the same time. And he felt guilty. He felt guilty that he had gotten out of his room, talked to another human being that was not Dean, and did something semi productive with his day. He had taken a long walk with someone who might become a friend, if that wasn't productive after two weeks of barely leaving his room he didn't know what was, but the part that didn't make sense, even to him, was the fact that the very thing he was happy he had done was making him feel guilty.

Jessica's funeral had only been two weeks ago. He should not be up and socializing, getting back into the world as it were. He should be locked in his room, crying over his lost love. He shouldn't be thinking about Nick let alone getting to know him. He shouldn't be doing anything at all other than grieving.

Sam rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow under him with one hand, and tried to quit his mind.

What would Jessica say if she knew what he was doing? Would she be proud to know that he was not going to waste his life away hoping that she would somehow come back to him or would she be angry that he wasn't mourning her the way even he believed he should be? He wished he knew but in truth he did not know. He wished he did. He wished he knew her well enough to be able to know what she would have felt in this situation.

If it were you, you would be devastated that she was moving on so quickly. A nasty voice in his mind told him.

Sam wasn't moving on. Nick was barely even a friend, an acquaintance. That was it. There was nothing more to it. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he knew it no matter what any small part tried to tell him otherwise but he couldn't stop himself from feeling guilty about it.

You've been obsessing about him ever since the funeral. The voice reminded him.

That didn't mean anything. There was no rule against thinking about other people in a platonic way. He had never thought about Nick in any way that was sexual or stalking. He had wondered who he was, what he was doing, and how he knew Jessica; none of these things were inappropriate. Now that he had a name to go with the face and had actual conversations with the man had not changed any of these things. He did not think about Nick in any way that was not platonic. So why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel like he was betraying Jessica?

Sam rolled over onto his side, drawing his knees to his chest in the fetal position. He did not have faith that this position would have any better results than the other but he couldn't bring himself to not move. It was going to be one of those nights, he could feel it already. He was not going to get any sleep tonight and he knew it. He tried to think about something else. Anything else. No matter the topic he tried to distract himself with he found himself thinking about Jessica and Nick and the different ways their lives could have been entangled, the way his life had been entangled in theirs, and about how through all of this he was betraying Jess in some way or another. It was as if his mind did not want him to be happy and way trying his damnedest to make sure he was not for any reason. No matter what he did, if it included Nick or anyone else that was not Dean, he was betraying her because he should not have anyone else in his life. No friends, defiantly no lovers. Nothing but family and he didn't have much left in the way of family; Winchesters all die young and in that aspect Jess had really been a Winchester all along.

It was that thought that made Sam sit up in bed, rubbing furiously at his eyes to keep them open. No. He couldn't think like that because it would open a whole can of worms and he was not ready for that. He couldn't keep a handle on things as they were, he couldn't bear the thought of how much worse his night would be if he let his mind wander down that particular road.

Ignoring the crappy way he felt, Sam got out of bed and made his way downstairs. He couldn't be in his room anymore. The dark and the silence was keeping his mind awake to torment him, he needed something else to keep his mind quiet.

The living room wasn't as dark as the rest of the house thanks to the street light that was inconveniently outside the window. Tonight he was grateful for the light that he and his brother had complained about in the past.

Pulling the afghan off of the back of the couch, Sam curled up underneath it as he grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned the TV on.
Before he knew it, he was asleep.

...

Sam woke up to the sound of boots against the linoleum in the kitchen. Why such a soft sound would wake him up, he had no idea but he found himself irritated at the fact that Dean's inability to walk like a normal human being woke him up.

His head pounded just behind his left eye and now that he was awake and could feel it he wondered how he had managed to sleep through it.

"Dean?" Sam called, kicking the blankets off of himself. He didn't want them touching him.

"Yeah?" Came the answer.

"Please tell me there's coffee."

There was a chuckle and Dean walked out of the kitchen carrying a mug. "You are going to turn into coffee, the way you drink it."

Sam didn't say anything but took the mug that was offered. He took a sip, wincing at the heat.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked in the tone that Sam knew that Dean knew the answer was no. Dean made sure there was no point in lying or denying it. It was one of the irritating things that came with his older brother practically raising him. Dean knew everything.

"Migraine. It's fine."

Dean didn't say anything but left the room, Sam knew that he was getting something for his migraine. He was only gone for a minute before he threw the bottle at him. Not paying any attention to what it was, Sam took two and chased them with coffee.

"What are you planning to do today?" Dean asked, watching him closely.

Sam didn't look at him. "I don't know yet." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't truth either. He wanted to spend the day with Nick but at what price? He hated feeling so guilty about nothing at all. He hated that thoughts of Jessica's disapproval haunted him at night. He hated that Dean hated the only person he wanted to spend time with. What was the price he was going to have to pay for this friendship with Nick?

"Just promise me that you wont spend all of it inside. If the porch is as far as you get, at least get some fresh air." Dean patted Sam's shoulder and headed back into the kitchen.

Fresh air. If only that would help him.