Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. )
Summary: Dean's assumption didn't even come close to how much Sam lost in the fire that took Jessica away. He had no idea of the pain that runs deep within behind the mask that stood in place. Not until one day when he finds Jess's hidden treasures. Post!Pilot. Twoshot!
-A/N: Truth be told, I really, really, really have to thank Devan (Ibelieveinsam), Jess (GG101) and Louise (FairyElle) for making this fic readable and presentable. They are truly the best people on Earth, the greatest friends anyone could have. Thank you SOO much guys!! You have my love of the week…or month… or year… )
-A/N#2: If you're not a flashback person, or tends to skip the italics (flashbacks), this is not the fic for you. There are a couple of flashbacks here that are quite important, or will benefit you if you read them. Don't panic, however, this is not a drabble or a oneshot that only consists of flashbacks.
Let the bucketload of angst and drama begin.
Sam swallowed hard, hoping to dissolve the lump forming in his throat, soothing his dry parched throat. He sat in an awkward position, slumped on the motel chair, his shoulders stiff and tense as if every man's grief and sadness was piled up upon them. Slowly chewing on his nail, his eyes shifted around the room uneasily, his mind wandering off somewhere else.
Distantly, he heard the soft pitter patter of the shower occupied by Dean.
Sam tried to think about other things. Happy things. Normal things. He forced his mind to go back to his childhood, his teenage years, or when John, Dean and Sam were together but everything he saw, everything he thought about, he could somehow relate to Jessica.
Slowly, with his other free hand he started drumming on the table with his fingers. Something Dean does on the steering wheel of his classic Impala. And when it came to Dean, his mind freely wandered.
"Dean? You listen to horrible music!" Thirteen year old Sam exclaimed.
"Horrible? You just have bad taste Sammy. Bad taste." Dean countered back coolly.
"I don't have bad taste! You fill the car up with crap you call music! Like …uh..what, Motor…Motor…"
A chuckle escaped Dean's lips as he shook his head amusingly. "Motorhead Sam. Motorhead."
"Fine, whatever. Motorhead. Who listens to music by some group of people who call themselves Motorhead?"
"Dude! Are we even related? Because I gotta say Sammy, my little brother wouldn't disgrace the name of Motorhead." Dean reached over and playfully slapped Sam across the head.
The laughter of the two teenagers filled the quiet night as they fought to catch their breaths.
Sam drew a shaky breath as he recalled how happy he used to be. Who was he fooling? The life he lived before Stanford was perfect. –Without John's orders. It was just how he always liked it, with Dean on the road.
And then there was Dad.
Barking his orders like they were servants, carrying out orders for their masters.
The life at Stanford, however, wasn't as good as he expected. He couldn't deny his real life. He couldn't deny who he really was. And that, he understood. And even though Sam was surrounded by his delighted friends, he couldn't pretend that he came from a perfectly normal family, baking cakes on their kids' birthdays, wishing them a Merry Christmas or kissing them on their foreheads before they would go to bed.
His friends would ask him about his family, his life, and lies would familiarly roll off his tongue. Every lie would add on top of the pile, would have to back up his previous ones.
And it was not as easy task.
During his second year at Stanford, a new student enrolled, and that was when Sam met the woman of his dreams. She was always so understanding, even if he would feed her lie after lie, she would accept him…
The creaking of an old door snapped Sam back to reality as Dean stepped out with a towel around his waist, the faint fog of steam rising from his body.
"Hey Sammy, I saved some hot water for you." Dean smiled, in attempt to cheer his little brother up. His attempt proved futile as he knew the answer deep down.
His brother's girlfriend died three days ago, her abdomen split open, her back pressed up against the ceiling with flowing blonde hair draping around her shoulders, hanging down freely.
His brother had witnessed the death of his girlfriend, had that awful sight imprinted in his mind forever. No one could forget such a vivid memory, and certainly no one could bounce back from something so devastating.
Not even a Winchester.
Dean sighed at the position Sam was in; cramped up in the wooden chair, lost in his own thoughts.
"Sam?" He said a bit more loudly, careful not to startle him.
"I don't feel like a shower. Not tonight." Sam's voice broke through Dean's ears, raspy and hoarse, broken and helpless.
"Well c'mon, let's get an early night in. We both need it."
Sam remained still and silent as Dean put his clothes on.
"Sam? Sammy, you need to rest." Dean walked up to him and put a gentle hand on Sam's back. Sam's eyes shifted around uncomfortably, his first thoughts were painfully how long Dean hasn't done that to him.
Finally, he raised his eyes and locked with Dean's.
Help me, Dean. What do I do? How do I deal? How do I keep on living? They seemed to express.
Dean wasn't a fool. He knew a simple "Nothing's gonna get you" or "You'll be alright, Sammy" is going to make this better. Instead, he patted Sam's back softly, trying to coax him to going to bed.
"If it makes you feel any better, we'll go back to that apartment tomorrow morning and see what we can find."
A moment of silence met Dean at first, and he thought that Sam was in deep thought again and didn't hear him. "Sam?-"
"I'll think about it." That was all he offered, as he stood up on shaky legs and made his way towards his bed.
Dean bit his lip as he watched Sam move around. Uncoordinated, lost and alone. He watched silently as Sam slid under the sheets and turned around to face the other way.
Someone was obviously not going to sleep.
Stealthily, he maneuvered his way around, turning off the lights and finally settling in his own bed, he turned to look at Sam whose back was facing him.
After a long moment of silence, Dean knew what Sam was up to. Stay up all night without sleeping, and drink lots of coffee the next day.
That wasn't going to work tonight.
"Sam, you really need to get your rest." He spoke softly.
"Yeah, I'll try." Sam whispered back. "Go to sleep, Dean. I'll be out by this hour or so. I've just got some on my mind."
Dean rolled over into his usual sleeping position and tried to succumb to his exhaustion. He has a big day ahead of him tomorrow.
After all, he has to go to his brother's apartment to find any remains.
Sam tried his best to make his breathing even, imitating him asleep. It seemed to work, after a few minutes, he heard the tell tale snores coming from the other bed.
Sam opened his eyes and stared at the darkness that surrounded him. He felt so alone, so miserable. Who knew that a 24 year old man can have such sadness in him enough to drown him whole?
"Have you ever been to the beach, early in the morning when the sun is about to rise?" Jess asked Sam.
"No. Never." To be honest, Sam really wasn't that type of guy. He had never experienced something so natural, yet Jessica seemed to be intrigued by it.
"Let me tell you something, Sam. It will be the most beautiful thing you will ever see. The sunlight shines at the sea, and as it is about to rise, the sky turns a beautiful orangey color. You have no idea what you're missing out on." She smiled.
"You watch the Sun rise on the beach often?"
"Quite often. I also watch the Sun set. I never get sick of it though. You can never get sick of natural beauty. It's the same thing everyday, yet so different."
Sam shook his head amusingly. "You are one poetic girl." He chuckled as he hovered above her, lying in the sand, and kissed.
The moment lasted for quite a while, until Jessica shot up and pointed towards the sky. "Sam!! Look! It's happening!" She cried.
Sam followed her gaze and he found his own eyes transfixed upon the glowing sphere that hovered above the sea.
"Isn't that amazing?" She whispered, her orbs glued to the horizon.
Sam was speechless. He had never seen anything to beautiful, yet so ordinary. The Sun was up every day, scorching upon the cities, giving everyone light and heat. It was a shining ball of light, but Sam had never seen the Sun in this state, hovering above the gleaming waves, illuminating a bright yellow glow on their faces.
The sea sparkled with life as they met the Sun's rays, seagulls chirped and flew across the ocean as if dancing with joy. The whole city was silent, still asleep in their beds, missing out on the moment of their lives.
Soon, the entire city was glowing a dull yellow, the reflection of the Sun in the water gazing right back at itself. Slowly rising, slowly lighting the town up, Sam watched with amazement and wander.
The moment passed quickly, and the Sun was up being the familiar self everyone sees everyday.
Sam wished that the moment could have lasted longer, but he knows that real memories last forever, etched in the depths of your mind, so real your heart still pounds with the same excitement.
"So how did you like that?"
It took a moment for Sam to gaze back into the face of his girlfriend, the scenery still fresh in his mind.
"That was beautiful," was all he supplied.
Jess laughed whole-heartedly, glad that she didn't disappoint Sam.
"Are you up for the sunset? I'm telling you, it's as good as the sunrise, if possible even better."
Sam smiled, showing off his dimples and white teeth as he leant in and kissed her, both rolling in the sand, laughing and joking.
Sam couldn't wait to watch the sunset with Jessica.
Sam curled up into a ball under his sheets and tried his best to stifle the sobs escaping from him. Tears fought to break free from the corners of his eyes, sliding down his temples and dissolving into a wet droplet under him.
He tried to control his breathing, making it steady and calm, trying not to alert Dean.
Angrily, he tried to stop the tears, wiping them away or trying to think of happier moments, but nothing came to him. All he could think about were memories of Jessica, the happy moments they had together, the feeling that was more thrilling than a rollercoaster, and it was plainly them two together that achieved that exhilarating feel.
Sam shuffled nervously at Jessica's doorstep, with a bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. He looked at his reflection in the stained glass panel in the door, making sure he looked presentable at the least, and rang the doorbell.
The door opened, and Sam's eyes met the blue orbs of Jessica's staring right back at him. Sam smiled, delightfully and brought the red roses from behind his back and handed them to her. "Happy Birthday." He said and leant down to kiss her.
Gratefully, Jessica accepted them with a thank-you, and invited him to come in. Sam had the day planned out perfectly, walk around the beach and then take her out for dinner.
Jess loved beaches. She always said that they were nature's true beauty, the waves crashing on the cliffs, the golden glint of the sand as each wave tried to reach further than before.
As they walked in bare feet along the ankle-deep water, Sam couldn't help but notice Jess's clothes choice of the day. She wore a beautiful light blue knee-length skirt that flowed freely behind her as the wind brushed past, and a short sleeved V-neck top.
Sam couldn't help but think that this was God's gift for him, something good that came out of all those years of hunting the evil and saving the innocent.
That evening, Sam invited Jessica to a classy restaurant as they ate together, laughing joyfully and Sam felt a happiness in his heart that day that seemed to overpower the heaviness that weighed there ever since that dreadful day his father didn't approve of Stanford.
Later on that night, Sam drove Jessica home, walking her to the front door and ending it with a long kiss that will forever be in both of their hearts.
"This was such a wonderful day Sam. Thank you so much. Only you could have brought such joy to my heart today." She smiled gently at him.
"Well, what can I say?" Sam replied with a smirk on his face. "Happy Birthday." He smiled back.
And with that, Jessica disappeared behind her door as Sam walked down the stairs of her porch, with a big smile on his face.
Sam shoved his fist into his mouth, biting hard onto his skin, keeping him from making any sound as the tears continued to flow freely down the corners of his eyes. His breathing became uneven, hitching slightly as he tried his best to hide it.
Yeah, God's gift. He thought bitterly. What a great gift it was, putting Jess's life in his hands and she ended up like…
Sam didn't want to think anymore as he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his pillow. Clenching his fists so hard, his nails bit into his palm but he didn't care. He appreciated the pain. He deserved the pain. He deserves a whole lot more than just tiny nail marks in his palm.
A whole lot more.
Exhaustion finally took over, and Sam fell asleep, the darkness closing off at the edges of his vision and he was met with a peaceful silence where he didn't feel so lonely, so sad, and heavy with loss.
Dean hastily blinked as the first few streams of sunlight peeked in through the curtains. He got out of bed, scrubbing a hand over his face and he stole a quick glance at his brother. Sam was curled up under the sheets, the steady rise and fall of his chest assured Dean as he shuffled around to get dressed.
"Sam? Hurry up, we need to be there early so we don't cause any trouble." Dean called as Sam rolled out of bed and put himself on auto-pilot, his face devoid of any emotion.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked as if he had forgotten the conversation last night.
"The apartment, remember? We're going to see if we can find any remains of anything."
"Oh, okay." Sam replied, his voice dull and boring, not the voice so full of life and emotion Dean was always used to.
Dean bit his tongue, restricting him from asking more questions, drowning the urge for his brother to tell him what was wrong, or how he could fix this.
Dean parked his car a few streets away from the burnt down apartment, careful not to arouse any suspicions.
"I don't want to go." Sam whispered. "I'll stay here."
"Come with me Sam. This might be helpful."
Something in Sam snapped as he turned to look at his brother. "Helpful?" He asked. "Helpful for who, exactly? You just want to see if there are new leads to where that demon is! You're not doing this for me, it's all for yourself!" Sam spat.
"What the hell, Sam? Where did that come from? I'm trying to help you! That's crazy! This is for your own good, not my leads on that sonofabitch!"
After a short moment of silence, Dean spoke up again. "Fine. Stay in the car and wait for me. I won't be long."
As Dean walked away, the last of Sam's voice echoed in his ears. He understood why he refused to go, but how could he think that Dean wanted a new trail for the demon?
Dean rounded the corner, approaching the burnt apartment from the back so nobody would see him. Stealthily, he climbed in and looked at the mess that surrounded him. He was standing exactly where he was three days ago, where he witnessed his brother wide-eyed on the bed, looking at his beloved impaled upon the ceiling.
Dean didn't have to look to know what was happening. The fire, the blood, the ceiling. The only thing on Dean's mind; was Sam.
Get Sam. Pull Sam out. Get Sam to safety.
He stepped around carefully, shaking his head as he looked around. Nothing, no one could survive from a fire like this. Everything was burnt down, the walls were blackened, and the faint odor of smoke still hung heavily in the air.
Slowly, he raised his head to the ceiling, the faint smudge of crimson red still visible though faint. His mind flashed back to how beautiful Jessica was, long blonde curls weaving around her pretty face.
Dean swallowed hard at the burning question in his mind. Just how long had Sam and Jessica been together? How close were they?
Dean sighed and climbed back out of the apartment. There was nothing he could do; there were no remains, nothing. Casually, he walked around to the front to see what he would find, surprised when he saw a group of people in their early 20's huddled around each other.
Dean, thinking they were the neighbors, approached them wandering if they heard anything that fatal night.
"You guys must live around here, right?" He asked coolly.
"Us?" A girl replied. "No. We're friends of the poor girl who died in the fire."
Instantly, Dean's eyes shot up, his ears perked. "Friends of Sam Winchester too?"
A guy raised his eyebrows at Dean with curiosity. "Yeah, Sam too. Who are you?"
"I'm Sam's brother. De-"
"Hang on; you're the famous Dean Winchester?" The girl interrupted before Dean had a chance to introduce himself.
"Yeah, I am. Is that a good thing or bad thing that I'm so famous?"
"Good of course! Sam's been telling all of us how heroic his big brother is, the cocky flirtatious smartass."
Dean chuckled as he looked at the five people before him. Three girls and two guys.
"I'm Rebecca, by the way. Call me Bec though." The girl said. "This is Zach, Lily, John and Al. Sam and Jess made the rest of our group but…" Rebecca's voice trailed off as her eyes softened and tears threatened to spill over the edges.
Dean took a deep breath and glanced at the burnt building. Then, in silence, he looked down at his feet. There was nothing much he could say, he barely even knew these people.
"How long had Sam and Jessica been together?" He blurted out.
"You don't know?" Al asked, surprise evident in her voice. She took Dean's silence as a 'no' and looked at the others. "Two and a half years at the least. They seemed to click so perfectly… They were so sweet together…" She turned around and buried her face in Zach's shoulders as her own trembled. Sobs wracked her as she thought of the dear friend she lost.
It was then, that Dean realized that he didn't know a lot of things about Sam. He had been to Stanford for four years, and a person can change so much in four years. His stomach clenched tight as he thought to himself. He didn't know how Sam coped in college, how Sam acted around his friends, how Sam held his head so high even as he turned his back on his father, with his words angrily stabbing at his back.
Lily's voice broke through Dean's track of thoughts. "Where's Sam? How's he dealing with…this?"
"Sam's in the car. I guess he didn't want to see the scene and relive the memory again. He's dealing f-"Dean cut himself off. No, Sam wasn't dealing fine. Sam didn't even come close to fine. He was slowly drifting away, slowly fading into the horizon.
"Not that good either, huh?" She whispered.
Dean let his eyes drop down to the ground and he found himself speechless. Finally, after a long moment of awkward silence and only the sounds of sobbing could be heard, Dean spoke up.
"What are you guys doing here so early in the morning?" he asked.
"Actually, we found something we thought you might want to keep." Rebecca said sadly. "When we first met Jess, she became real good friends with me and decided to keep a safe in my apartment. That was nearly three and a half years ago, and none of us ever mentioned of it ever since. I almost forgot about it, until one day it just came to me. I didn't even remember what was in it, but as soon as I opened it, I saw…"
She broke off as her breath hitched and she turned away, looking into the distance. Once again, she took a deep breath and reached for her bag, hanging lowly down her side.
Rebecca handed Dean a thick folder, smiling sadly. "There are a lot of things in there. Photos, notes, letters… I guess it was Jess's treasure, and if something should happen to her I think she'd want you or Sam to have these. I guess that's the case now."
They said their goodbyes, apologies and good lucks as they walked away, tears quietly sliding down their cheeks.
Dean looked down at the folder in his hands, and peered carefully inside. There was a lot in there. He sat down on a nearby bench and slowly, he pulled out the thick pile that was bound together by a fragile elastic band.
There were three photos just sitting on top of the pile, and Dean knew that he was invading someone else's privacy but something in him just wanted to reach out and read everything. He carefully pulled the photos out from behind the elastic band and glanced at each one.
They were all crumbled, curled and folded at the corners. The first one was of Sam, Jess, Lily, John, Al, Rebecca and Zach, arms around each other with smiles pasted onto their faces. Sam's arms were wrapped around Jess's neck, while her eyes looked back at his, the love and affection running so deeply Dean couldn't miss it. Lily had her arms around Zach's, her hand holding Rebecca's and her head was rested on Al's shoulder. John was in the middle, his broad arms around everybody's shoulders, and they were all gazing into the camera.
Dean bit his lip and fought the urge of jealousy creeping up.
The second photo was of Sam and Jess only, their foreheads touching, their gazes on each other. Sam's had his famous dimpled smile on, while Jess was laughing, her hair flowing behind her in the direction of the breeze.
The last, was probably the oldest. It was a picture of Sam, his arms around Jessica wearing a low V-neck top with a light blue skirt flowing behind her. Jess seemed to lean into the touch, her head dipped slightly in towards Sam. She was holding three red roses, bunched in her hands. They were at the beach, the water level slightly higher than their ankles. Seagulls soared around in the blue sky, the white clouds hanging peacefully above their heads.
Again, they were happy. Both pairs of eyes sparkled with life and joy, love and passion. Their smiles reflected their mood, the blue waves in the background gleamed like blue crystals.
Two and a half years, Dean recalled as he put the photos back behind the elastic band, placing the bunch of sheets back in the folder. That was a long time, and the love, friendship and trust that was formed over that amount of time… It was lost. Everything, just like that.
Dean looked down at the folder in his hands. Maybe not everything was lost. He still had to find out everything that was in here.
Dean glanced at his watch as he left the bench, walking back to his Impala.
At the sight of his brother, Sam lifted his head to look at him, the apology shone clear in his eyes. Dean sat in the driver's seat, and before he started the engine, he needed to speak to Sam.
"You don't need to say anything, Sam. It wasn't your fault. I get it, though, some things are spoken out of anger or sadness."
Sam took a deep breath, wanting to argue back, but changed his mind. "I guess I… I'm sorry about…everything."
Dean handed Sam the folder, placing it gently on his lap. "This, is something you need to look at once we get back to the motel. It's Jessica's. She left it in a safe at Rebecca's apartment."
Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, looking down at the unopened folder with Dean sitting on the wooden chair across from him.
"If you need privacy-" He offered.
"No, please don't go." Sam hated how he sounded so weak, but the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.
"Dean, I actually…uh… I think I might feel better if I share this with you?"
Dean looked at him, shocked that Sam was willing to let him in. He understood that this was something major to Sam, something private that he wanted to keep to himself.
Noting the silence, Sam quickly added, "It's okay if you don't feel like it or if you think it's chickflick."
Dean widened his eyes. "No, no of course not Sam! I just thought…" Dean walked over and sat next to him, the bed gently dipping in. "I wasn't sure if you felt comfortable with it, ya know."
Sam bit his lip and opened the folder, the contents of the inside poured out with the elastic band tight around the bundle. At the sight of the three photos Dean looked at earlier on, he took a deep breath and looked away as Dean put a reassuring hand on his back.
"It's alright if you don't feel up to it right now." He said softly.
"Nah, I'm fine. I'm fine."
Fine. Yeah, right.
Sam looked at the three photos for a few minutes before carefully setting them beside him, as if they would break into a million shards of glass if you fumbled with it.
Carefully, he slid the elastic band off and everything came undone. There were letters, notes, more photos, recounts…everything. Sam looked at everything, his fingers gently hovering over each piece before he saw something that caught his attention.
It was a recount, with photos attached to it. Quickly, Sam pulled it out from the pile and read it, Dean trying to be invisible and not rude, reading it over his shoulders.
I did the best thing today! It was my favorite night of my life, Sam and I watched the Sun set on the beach together! It was beautiful, just like every other night, but with Sam there… it was such an amazing night. The air was warm and inviting, the smell of the sea water filled my lungs.
We were lying in the sand, the evening sky above us having a slight tinge of orange. The seagulls flew high above us, squawking loudly, mixed with the whooshing sounds as the waves crashed upon the shore.
Finally, when the Sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon to the other side of the Earth, we sat there, admiring the beauty displaying before our very eyes.
The sky had turned a beautiful orange color; the clouds were slowly fading away but were still visible.
The Sun's intense rays were no longer making us squint, it was perfect. We could see it perfectly now, round and full slowly sinking below the horizon.
This was the first time Sam had seen the Sun set. When he first saw the Sun rise last week, he loved it. It enlightened me so much to see him so happy, so delightful. I promised him that I would watch the Sun set with him, and here we are. This night was so much better than the million dreams I've had.
A light, warm breeze would blow lightly every now and again, and it just added to the moment.
As the last of the Sun disappeared behind the still waters of the beach, we sat there lost in our own worlds.
It was the best night of my life, and that is the biggest understatement ever.
Dean had finished it long before but Sam remained still and silent. He seemed to be rereading the words over and over again, as if Jess's words were actually meant for him and not just a simple recount.
Finally, Sam turned the piece of paper over revealing two pictures of that night. Dean had never seen a Sunrise, or a sunset, and the photos simply amazed him.
The orange globe that was suspended in mid-air, reaching below the horizon was bright and beautiful. It was exactly how Jessica had described it, and the watery reflection of it was still in the waves.
The other photo was plainly Jessica and Sam sitting in the golden sand, their shoulders touching and they were both smiling happily at the camera.
Sam seemed to forget that Dean was right beside him at all and he flipped back to the recount, reading it again.
Dean's heart ached for Sam. It was only the beginning, and he was starting to realize how much Sam had lost in that fire three days ago. Sam and Jessica had formed a bond, a friendship and a relationship that was so strong, so trusting, and the Demon had arrived and with the snap of its fingers, took everything away.
Why now? Why Sam?
What did Sam ever do to anyone in his life that he deserved to be punished so cruelly at such a young age? Sam was the nicest kid Dean knew with the biggest heart, the biggest smile, the kindest touch, willing to sacrifice anything if it meant to help someone else- even a stranger.
These kinds of people were rare. Like finding a four leaved clover. What was so wrong about this, about Sam meeting the girl of his dreams, that fate decided to steal her away from his heart?
This was all so wrong, Dean thought angrily. He stole a quick glance at Sam and saw how deep the pain ran beneath that mask he built everyday. He could tell with just one look deep in his moss green eyes that Sam was suffering.
His eyes held unanswered questions, a desperation to be loved and not so alone. A desire to be normal and not witness deaths of innocent people everyday and learning to hunt the evil.
He was drowning in his own pain, his own guilt and loss, and in most conditions, nobody could be able to bounce back from something like that.
But this wasn't most conditions.
Demons don't casually walk in and impale people on the ceilings.
Sam was strong, on some levels, even stronger than Dean. Sam had a spirit, a scale of black, grey and white. Sam, with his big, kind heart still pumping healthily.
Time seemed to have frozen, and after a while, Sam put down the recount of the sunset he watched together with Jess.
"Sam?" Dean said gently, softly.
Sam didn't respond, but turned his head and locked eyes with him. The raw pain and desperate plea in there made Dean fiercely blink make the sting of tears. Instead, he gave him a sad reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder gently.
Sam looked down at the scattered pile before him, and he picked out another old, crumbled photo and looked at it longingly, a smile creeping on his face.
The photo seemed to look back at him, with Jess and Sam doubling over laughing hysterically. Sam's hair was wet, plastered onto his forehead with water dripping from it, while Jess' was tied into a loose ponytail at the back, her blonde fringe coming loose, wet and curly.
Their clothes were wet, from top to bottom. There wasn't a single spot that was dry. Dean couldn't help but wander what on earth happened. His first thought made him smile, but knew it was almost impossible. Did they shower together?
Sam, on the other hand, searched the depths of his mind, and easily let himself wander off to that day.
"Sam! Pleeeaaasssee? It'll be fun!" Jess tried her best impression of a puppy dog face, looking up to Sam, pleading.
Sam hesitated. "I haven't done this in like twenty years! I don't even remember how to tie a water balloon!"
"Please Sam? It'll be so cool! Just one water balloon fight! One…!"
Sam looked into his girlfriend's eyes. This was too childish, he thought. Sure he's had one or two water balloon fights with Dean when they were young, really young, but now?
Jess darted to get the water balloons done before Sam even finished his sentence. Soon, thirty minutes later, they had piles of mini balloons filled up with water.
Jess leant up to kiss Sam longingly. "Are you ready?" She whispered.
"Jess…" Sam whined.
Before Sam finished complaining, Jess snatched a couple of water balloons and threw them at Sam, the water splashing over his face dripping onto his clothes. She laughed, stole more from the pile and ran out of the house, her laughter filling the air.
"JESS!" Sam roared, his lips curled at the corners, and he took a few balloons himself, taking off after his girlfriend. His long legs were an advantage, and soon enough he saw Jess out of breath around the corner of their block.
Sam aimed, and threw his balloon hard and he watched with satisfaction as it landed on Jess's waist. A big wet patch slowly started spreading around the fabric of her shirt, as she plastered on a mock surprise expression and took aim.
Sam barely had time to react when a water balloon was flying across the air, splattering on Sam's head. His hair suddenly felt heavy, the water piling up and dribbling down his eyes, clouding his vision.
Jess' hearty laughter filled his ears, causing him to chuckle as he wiped his arm across his eyes.
Jess was gonna get it. He thought with a wide smile.
Sam sprinted up to Jessica, throwing balloon after balloon, one landing on her collarbone, knees, and elbows. Water splashed everywhere, their eyes twinkled with happiness as they ran back to the house looking for more water balloons.
Jess ran up to Sam, threw her arms out and tackled him to the ground. Sam, surprised by this, ended with his back against the grass, Jess on top of him laughing.
He looked down to see his shirt wet, and apparently the last two balloons he held in his hand had popped during the collision. His cotton shirt absorbed the liquid quickly, the warm summer's breeze felt cool against his skin.
Quick as lightning, Jess jumped up and darted back to the house leaving Sam running behind her.
Sam ran into the house, and suddenly it was silent. No giggles or laughter echoing around the walls, no squelches of footsteps against the wet tiled floor.
"Jess?" Sam asked, sneaking around the room. "Jess?"
He rounded the corner of the kitchen, his hand pressed up against the door as it opened slowly, and before he knew what was happening, the loud roar of laughter filled his ears as liters of water splashed onto his face.
Sam was so surprised, the force of the impact made him hold a steady hand against the wall to brace himself as he staggered backwards.
After a few seconds, when Sam's vision cleared, he found Jess standing in front of him with a wide grin on her face, a bucket in her hands.
A split second later, Sam realized that the bucket was still half full. Realization hit him hard as he tried to reason with her.
"Jess! Jess-" He tried to warn her, held out a hand signaling 'wait', but she laughed even harder as she hurled the remaining water at Sam.
Jess doubled over with laughter as she found Sam on his back against the tiled floor, dazzled from the second attack. She laughed so hard her stomach began cramping, and soon, Sam found himself laughing along with her.
Nothing could be heard in the apartment except the cackling and the occasional gasping for air.
Little did Jessica know, Sam was plotting his next major move.
Sam walked outside slowly, pretending to be doing something else while Jess stole more water balloons and hit Sam dead centre on the back.
He bit his lip, trying not to give his plan away, and he felt another splat on his upper back.
Sam spun around on his heel, turning the hose on full blast as the spray of water hit Jessica dead on. She was squealing, laughing and shouting at Sam to stop all at the same time.
Sam, however, was not paying any attention to her pleas. He laughed even harder, moving closer to Jess as the hose sprayed more water on her.
Soon, both of them were soaking wet, from head to toe. They sat on the wet floor, catching their breaths and laughing.
"It wasn't that bad was it now Sam?" She asked with a hint of humor in her voice.
Sam shook his head amusingly and smiled. "It was awesome, seeing you getting sprayed with the hose!"
Jess blurted out laughing, her smile was the most gorgeous thing Sam had ever seen.
Sam had a small, sad smile on his face and Dean wandered what really happened that day. His little brother seemed really lost in thought and he couldn't help but sadly think when Sam was going to become his usual self again.
Sam held the photo in shaking hands, looking intently at Jessica. He stared long and deep into her twinkling joyful eyes.
The water balloon stains across her stomach.
Sam swallowed hard.
The wet patch that went diagonally across her stomach.
Sam's breathing became harsh and he barely felt his brother rubbing circles onto his back.
So similar to the bloody gash across her abdomen.
Sam sprang from the bed and sprinted into the bathroom, barely having the time to sink to his knees and throwing up the contents in his stomach.
He barely realized that Dean had followed him, soothing him as his stomach lurched painfully, the substance hurling out of his mouth leaving an awful sour taste.
Tears sprang to his eyes and slowly trailed down his cheeks, dripping down his chin and falling down the toilet, mixing with his vomit.
Jessica and the water stain.
Jessica and the blood pooling around her stomach.
On the ceiling.
Sam made a guttural cry as his stomach heaved painfully once more, tears stinging his eyes. His constricted throat was not helping him through this, but Dean was.
Dean was beside him constantly, and even though he didn't understand what was happening he was there. And being there was enough for Sam. Dean was gently running Sam's back, whispering words of comfort to him, and all this time he had no idea what was going on.
He had no idea of the memories Sam held, the thoughts Sam had, but he was there supporting him all the way through.
Minutes later, Sam sat against the wall, still on the wet bathroom tiles, his shoulders slumped forward. Dean sat beside him, watching him from the corners of his eyes intently.
Sam was looking down, his long knotted hair shielding his eyes from Dean as he bit his lip, forcing himself not to cry. What was wrong with him?
It felt like a boot was pressing down on his chest, restricting him the luxury of oxygen, of happiness. He couldn't breathe properly, his stomach was clenching tight and he spun his head towards Dean, frightened eyes screamed for help but his voice wouldn't follow.
He felt his body slipping away into the darkness, his vision hazy towards the edges as he tried to suck oxygen into his lungs, but there was nothing.
Hehe. I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. Don't worry, chapter 2 is on it's way. Apologies for the length, which is why I split it up into two parts. Review please, and tell me if you liked it or thought it was boring!!
Thanks for reading!