Ch. 8

"Sam, would you tell me about Jessica?"

Sam didn't know why Dr. Angel included this question in ever session he's had over the past three weeks, and every time Sam would tell him no.

Except this time, "Why do you want to know about her?"

Dr. Angel smiled inwardly knowing that he was beginning to make a little bit of progress in that area.

"I think that it would help you deal with her death if you were able to talk about her."

When Sam didn't respond he decided to change the subject. "Have you talked to Dean and your dad?"

Sam shook his head. A few days ago he had promised that he would talk to them about what they had done to him by making him stay. "Why not?"

"I'm just trying to find a good time to bring it up."

"Sam, we both know that's not true. Your family is very concerned about you and want to help but they can't help if you don't let them know what's wrong" Sam looked down at his hands. "You don't have to talk until you're ready," the doctor reassured. Sam quietly nodded.

"Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?" Sam nodded.

"I would like to get you started on anti- depressants right away so we can find the right prescription," he handed a bottle to Sam. "I want you to start taking these starting today. In a few weeks we'll see if they're working and if they're not we'll keep looking okay."

Sam took the bottle with a shaking hand. "I've told your brother that I would be giving these to you. They're going to be keeping an eye on you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam walked out of the office and found his brother sitting patiently for him reading a magazine.

Sam swallowed the pill thinking how stupid he was for needing a pill to be happy.

"There's nothing wrong with it you know Sammy." He jumped at the sound of his brother's voice. "Taking the pills I mean." He saw both his brother standing in the doorway to the kitchen looking at him.

'I thought I was supposed to be the psychic one,' Sam thought.


"I don't want to talk right now." He really didn't. After he had time to think about everything he realized that he was mad at his dad and Dean and didn't want to hurt them by saying something that he may or may not mean.

"You need to."

"No I don't."

"You haven't said anything in four days. Please Sammy just tell me what wrong."

"You want to know what's wrong? Fine I'll tell you what's wrong. It's the two of you. All of my life I have taken the backseat to hunting, yeah I complained but in the end I helped when you asked me to. Then I come to you with a full-ride scholarship to Stanford, twice, and you say I can either go to school or have a family. Families don't make someone choose between them and their dreams."

"You're right Sammy."

Sam looked on in shock at his father. "You shouldn't have to choose between us and school. It was selfish of us to make you choose." Dean nodded his head in agreement.

"Sammy, from now on just do what makes you happy. We're not going to stop you," Dean said.

'This isn't how things are supposed to go,' Sam thought. 'They're supposed to be yelling and calling me selfish, while I yell and say the same about them.'

"Heck Sammy, if it's what you want, I'll drive you to Stanford myself," John said with a smile. "I thought I was doing what was right by keeping you with me. I can see that I was wrong, both times."

Sam smiled for the first time in months. It made both Dean's and John's hearts soar knowing that they had finally done something right. "So Sammy, you got another full ride to Stanford. I must say little brother that is quiet impressive."

The End