7

Amelia was terrified. She spent the entire evening leaning back into Sam's arms as if by doing so she could prevent Sam from running out of the door and disappearing in god-knows-where. She had seen the look in Sam's eyes when he held the knife in his hands, so chilling and sharp you'd thought you'd get stabbed if he just took one glace at you. She had made speculations about Sam's past, the part he never told her, she had thought of all possibilities and now every single one of them seemed wrong to her.

His fight dazzled her eyes, if it was on the screen she would clap, but this is real, every thrust and every punch. His movement was poetry in motion and he teased that robber like he was toying with an ant.

Amelia told Don: "I think I'm gonna lose Sam."

Now she was at the place nearest to him, they were lying in bed together, and as she listened to Sam's heartbeat in rhythm she couldn't help but whisper: "Are you going to leave me, Sam?"

After a while, he replied quietly: "I'm right here."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you, Amelia." The muscles on his chest moved and she knew he was smiling in silence. He landed a kiss on top of her head and Sam's warm lips were pressed against her scalp.

"Let's get engaged right away, OK?"

She sat herself up using his chest as support, she was slightly panicked.

Sixth sense. She thought. She got a vague feeling that the Sam she knew was fading away. Like a dying star, slowly dimming until it became darkness itself.

Sam looked at her and said indifferently: "Whatever you wish."

They decided to hold their engagement ceremony right after Christmas, in whichever restaurant that could hold all their friends. The diamond ring they got from the store where blood was shed shone brightly on Amelia's ring finger, she still had her backup dress from her last wedding.

Sam watched as she bustled about. If she's fine with it, he doesn't mind anything.

Dean was released two days later due to lack of sufficient evidence, he walked out of the police station light-headed and gave Benny waiting at the door a big hug: "Thanks, brother."

Benny pointed out: "You really are a mess."

"That I know. Christmas in the police station, I must have missed Santa's present delivery." He smiled weakly.

Having refused Benny's company, Dean returned to his semi-basement alone. His residence was dark, clammy and cold, his stomach was empty as he curled on his rock-hard bed but he didn't bother to get up and eat. He reached for his phone, charged it for a while, curled up his fingeres and clicked search on "Sam Wesson".

He looked at the picture on his screen, it was Amelia's Instagram. That's a decent ring, he thought. He rolled over and sat up, swiped up, trying to deceive himself into ignoring that photo, then he changed his mind, swiped down again, stared at the picture of clasped hands to show the engagement ring and forced himself to go through all the comments.

This couple will be holding their engagement ceremony next Monday. Sam and this Amelia.

Dean couldn't help but feel the need to be present. Even if it would just be secretly sitting around the street corner. Even if his wound would be far from healed on that day. Even if he really was a mess.

That was his little brother, with the same blood running through their veins. He should be happy for his happiness, he must feel happy about his happiness. He sniffed. Was that blood coming out of his wound again? God this really hurts.

Dean slammed his pillow onto the floor. The mighty Dean Winchester now had to blow off his steam by throwing pillows because he really didn't have the strength to clean up other messes.

The day before the engagement ceremony Dean pressed around his wound tentatively. Good, the pain was less intense now. He shaved and put on a fairly-decent suit and even washed his car. He came in front of Lindsey's apartment.

Two hours later and finally a most cheerful Lindsey appeared, talking on her phone. He opened the car door: "Hi, sweetheart."

Lindsey let out a cry of surprise and delight, she hung up the phone like lightning and threw it into her bag as she ran towards him: "Dean!"

Lindsey rushed into his arms, and the impact knocked Dean back two steps until he hit the car door, he gasped: "You're too passionate, babe."

Lindsey opened her mouth to a smile: "I thought I'd never see you again, every day I pray to God that I will see you again."

Dean raised his eyebrows to a "you're just saying that" expression.

She surrendered: "Fine, maybe just on every night when I'm desperate."

"Try the bar if you have the time to pray to God, trust me."

They kissed in front of Lindsey's apartment and Dean had to free a hand to press against his wound: fuck, blood, he should've stood further away from the car. But in that case he may end up falling directly to the ground.

Lindsey let go of his collar to catch her breath, then licked his jaw: "Too bad, but my friend's engagement ceremony is tomorrow, so we'll have to call it a night. I've got a dress to wear."

Thank goodness!

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, he was not the least bit turned on, just now he had wondered if he's got erectile dysfunction. He just wanted to know where that god damn engagement ceremony would be.

Lindsey looked at him and she realized she was practically pushing Dean away with her own hands, she had to seize every chance. So she went on suggesting: "I don't have a date for tomorrow, maybe you'd like to come with me to that ceremony?" she added, "It's Sam Wesson who's getting engaged, you said you like him last time."

He did not say that! Dean would never tell anyone sissy things like he loves Sammy, the last time Sammy told him he loves him was when they were trapped and delirious in an asylum.

So Dean told Lindsey: "Yes, I absolutely love him."

Playing the part of a crazed fan of a lawyer got him what he wanted. Dean took the card with the address written on it and looked at the string of numbers at the bottom: "Is this the number of catering service?"

"It's my number, you never called me so I'm guessing you lost that last card."

Dean smiled regretfully: "That's right." Lost it in that trashcan three feet away.