Alrighty folks! This story is a tag to Season 5's The Devil You Know, just after Sam finds out the truth about his best friend. I'd been needing an excuse to somehow write a Sam and Jessica piece for a long time, and now I finally found the opportunity. I love this couple, so much. I know she was only in a few episodes, but it doesn't matter. I love them regardless, because at the beginning of Season 5, we find out that Sam is still in love with her and misses her deeply after all this time. So, a plot bunny filled my head to bring Jess to Sam to try and help ease that guilt. Yes, this story is a Sam/Jess story and it's chock full of angst! Hope you enjoy!


He could've been sleeping, but he wasn't sure. Maybe he was close to sleep, or maybe not, but all of it sounded and felt too real to just be a dream. A familiar, female voice whispered his name in his ear, but his eyes felt too heavy to open. Maybe he'd been knocked out? Was he just in a fight? He wasn't sure. No...wait. No, he wasn't just in a fight. He'd just finished killing a demon and exacting the revenge he had longed for for the past five years. Maybe all that exhaustion finally caught up with him, but something just seemed off. This just didn't seem like a vision or any normal dream either.

"Sam," her voice gentle and warm spoke a bit louder this time to capture his attention.

He felt soft fingertips brush back the hair splayed across his forehead and tuck some of the loose strands behind his ear, and his blue-green eyes slowly fluttered open. There was somebody leaning over him, but she was too blurred out to see. He rapidly blinked his eyes, urging the fogginess from them, as the girl's face came into better view. Sam felt a breath catch in his throat as hazel met bright, vivid blue eyes, full pouting lips and long, curly blonde hair falling over her shoulders and down the sides of her face. He tried to say her name, but his words caught around a lump forming in his throat. Instead, he just stared in awe and wonder, swallowing hard.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," her voice resounded and he felt her hand cup the side of his face. Not needing to force himself awake anymore, Sam placed his hands on the floor and pushed himself up. His mood-ring eyes widened as he took in her face which was now smiling and tilted slightly to the side. "Are you okay?" she asked him, concern replacing the smile, her thin eyebrows furrowing lightly above long lashes.

"Jessica..?" it took Sam a moment to register, but it was really her. She looked just like she did the day that they met; she was even wearing the same clothes. The day that Brady introduced them. Brushing back the twinge of rage and pain that he had been forcing to keep locked away, every since he'd found out Brady wasn't Brady and he started to feel build up in his chest, Sam focused on the girl next to him. She was wearing a light pink baby tee and light blue jeans. She was wearing her long, blonde hair down, the curls falling over her shoulders and bouncing against her back with every slight movement she made.

"Of course it's me," she smiled, her thumb stroking Sam's cheek. "Who else would it be?"

"I just... there was a time... I don't- where are we?" the young hunter stumbled over his words as pushed himself completely upright and gazed around.

"Silly, you don't recognize home?" Jessica giggled as she rose to her feet. She held out a hand to him which he gratefully took and pulled himself to his feet. They didn't let go of each other's hand. He felt her fingers tighten around his own, and he did the same. "We lived here together for a little over six months," she pointed out.

Sam gasped softly, taking in his surroundings as realization slammed him in every possible direction. He was back in the apartment that he and Jessica had lived in together before she was killed. They were standing in the hallway, between the living room and their bedroom. Sam put a hand against the wall, and it all just felt so familiar that nostalgia swarmed over him in waves. His eyes scanned the hall and glanced downward. He could even see their old couch with the same, fluffy pillows that Jessica had insisted in buying, and Sam had given in even though he wasn't exactly fond of the decor. Even the way it smelled was the same.

Then it hit him. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming, because none of this could be real. Jess was standing in front of him, but she was dead. Brady had killed her, he had just found out only mere hours ago. He didn't let his brother or Bobby or anybody know just how much this affected him, but it had, even after he got his revenge he was still silently struggling with it. Maybe that's why he was dreaming about Jessica again. The previous days' events came flowing back into Sam's mind.

Sam walked into the dingy room to find his brother tying up what looked to be a demon. It was tied to a chair centered in a devil's trap with a bloody, tan knapsack over it's head, a devil's trap painted on the front of the sack as well. Dean finished tying the demon with a thick rope to the chair, and stood as his younger brother entered the room, a look of confusion crossing his handsome features.

"Sam," Dean began as he slowly stood and approached his little brother, his brows slightly furrowed into a grave expression.

"What's going on, Dean?" the younger Winchester questioned, his eyes looking down at the masked demon and sliding back upward to meet his brother's green ones.

"I need you to stay on mission, okay? Focused," Dean stated, his countenance deadly serious.

Sam slightly shook his chestnut brown head. "I don't understand...what's all this about?" He looked down once more at the demon, before looking back at his brother, his brow furrowed in question.

"We're doing this because I trust you," was what Dean answered with. A low groan came from behind Dean as the demon stirred and lifted it's bagged head.

Sam still didn't understand what was going on or why his brother looked as serious as he did, but a hint of sympathy for his little brother flickered in his eyes. "Trust me to what?" Sam inquired, still not understanding what was going on.

"Sam?" came a muffled voice from beneath the knapsack. The voice cleared it's throat. "Sam, is that you?"

Sam's brow furrowed even more. He really didn't understand what was happening or how this hidden demon knew his name. His eyes darted back and forth from the demon to his brother, who was now approaching the monster and removing the sack from his head. Sam's eyes slightly widened as he took in the sight of a familiar face sitting in front of him. "Brady?" Sam asked, still confused.

Brady lifted his head, looking up at the young hunter and grinned, releasing a somewhat arrogant snicker. "Brady hasn't been Brady in yeeeeears," the demon told him. Sam's mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes widening as he took in the words the demon spoke. "Not since, ohhhh, middle of our Sophomore year?"

"What?" Sam asked, the realization slowly settling in.

"That's right!" the blond man exclaimed, gazing up at Sam.

The younger Winchester's eyes darted back and forth between Brady and his brother. Dean just continued to watch Sam, the same expression never leaving his face.

"You had a devil on your shoulder, even back then," the Brady demon confirmed, his blue eyes piercing into Sam's hazel ones. He looked rather pleased with himself. Everything was beginning to come to light now, and Sam's breathing became heavier, his eyes darkening. "Alright now, let it alllll sink in," Brady taunted sounding almost mirthful.

"You son of a bitch," Sam began softly as he stared down at the contemptuous demon before him. "You son of a bitch...YOU INTRODUCED ME TO JESS!" the young hunter exploded, approaching the demon now, the newfound rage filling him up and spilling out of him. Dean jumped in front of Sam and held him back from the Brady demon.

"DING DING DING! I think he's got it!" the demon jeered.

"Damnit, Sam!" Dean grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shoved him back, but Sam still advanced forward.

"I'm gonna kill you," the younger Winchester growled at Brady, as the burning animosity tore through his body like a pack of rabid wolves.

Dean had ahold of his younger brother now and was shoving him back and out of the room. All that could be heard was Sam's erratic breathing and Brady's sardonic laughter. He shoved Sam into another room and pushed him backward, letting him go. Sam wasn't paying any attention though. He made his forward into his brother, as if trying to plow him over with his considerable size. "Hey! That's enough!" Dean ordered as he shoved Sam back once more.

"Get out of my way," Sam beseeched, moving forward yet again.

"No," was all the older Winchester responded with.

"Get out of my way, Dean," the young hunter reiterated. He wasn't even sure if you could call what was billowing through his body now rage. It was because of that rat bastard that Jessica died, and if Sam had anything to say about it, he was going to put him in his place. He wasn't going to just send him back to Hell. He was going to slaughter him as painfully as possible.

"Sam?" Jess's voice broke the younger Winchester out of his silent reverie. "Baby, are you okay?" she asked once more, turning his face toward hers.

"I'm so sorry," was all Sam could say as he backed into the wall, pulling himself away from Jessica's touch. "It's all my fault."

"What's all your fault, Sam? I don't understand," the curly blonde tilted her head in confusion just a tad more, the concern in her eyes growing even more evident. "You're worrying me. Please, tell me. What's your fault?"

Sam pursed his lips, clenched his teeth and stared down at the floor, not able to face her. It was so hard to look into her large, blue, innocent eyes. She hadn't known then. Maybe it was possible that she still didn't know. All the guilt, the grief was beginning to consume him right then and there. The one time he'd tried to escape from his hellish life, to grasp normality and live like a regular human being would and the demons had still been tailing him.

His best friend, of all people, possessed by a demon, introducing to him to the sweet, quiet and beautiful Jessica Moore. If only his hunter instinct would've been as sharp back then, then maybe, just maybe Sam would've known that Brady had been possessed, and he could've taken care of it but no. Instead, he was just stupid enough to trust him and become friends with him. He still stayed friends with him, even after he'd changed. How foolish of him.

"Everything is, Jess," his voice lowered to barely above a whisper. "All of this, you, Stanford, the life I've lived since then, it's just...I just...why couldn't-," his voice broke and he dropped his head, his long hair falling into his face, obscuring his eyes. "I never should've trusted him."

"Wellll here we go," Brady sighed derisively. Sam clutched Ruby's knife in his hand as he slowly made his way back into the room. He'd took his chance the moment Dean went into the bathroom to rinse his face off, shutting the door and placing a chair against the knob so his older brother couldn't get out and try and stop him from seeking the revenge he'd longed for for a very very long time. "Are we doin' last words or no?" the demon continued.

"Sophomore year, huh?" Sam growled softly, staring down hard at the blond, satirical monster still tied to the chair, still trapped in the devil's trap. He walked slowly around to the front of Brady, not taking his cold, hazel eyes off of the hellbitch.

"Brady here, he was a good kid," the demon began carelessly, staring up at the anger-ridden Sam. "Straight up, I mean your best friend really. Perfect point of access," Brady stated mockingly.

"Thanksgiving?" Sam questioned in the same, low, growling tone.

"Yes sir!" Brady just grinned as if he were extremely pleased with himself. "Remember when I came back from break all messed up," the demon began, putting emphasis on the last three words. "Dropped outta pre-med, the drugs, the bitches!"

Sam nodded his head in disbelief, and rolled his eyes upward toward the ceiling, his jaw working against the furious emotion slowly beginning to envelope him.

"That was the new Brady, that was me," the demon told him. Sam gazed back down at the hellbitch, sitting in his chair, stuck in the devil's trap thinking he was being amusing. It took him everything he had not to lunge for the bastard and repeatedly stab him.

"Remember how much time you spent trying to get me back on the right track?" Sam couldn't speak, he couldn't do anything, except feel the rage that was inevitably consuming him. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, his breathing a little heavier as each and every word slowly sunk in.

"You really were a good friend," the Brady demon told him. Sam pursed his lips, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd either start screaming and attacking, or more humiliating he'd start crying. So instead, he just stood back and listened to the monster in front of him carry on.

"But old Yellow Eyes didn't send me back to be your friend, no! He could tell we were starting to lose you! You were becoming a mild-mannered, worthless sack of piss! Now c'mon we couldn't have that! You were our favorite!" the Brady demon grinned mockingly. "So, I hooked you up with a pure, sweet, innocent piece of tail. And then I toasted her on the ceiling."

The demon just grinned widely up at Sam, seeming as though he were enjoying every moment of torture, painful memory and agony he was putting the younger Winchester through. Sam could feel the prickling starting behind his eyes, and he did everything he could to fight against it. He couldn't lose himself to the grief, not here and not now. He closed his eyes, lowering his head momentarily, not looking at the taunting beast sitting in front of him. His fingers clenched even tighter around the steel hilt of the knife. Sam was doing his best not to put this hellbitch through slow torture just to shut him up.

"That's right. Azazel might've put the hit out on Jessica, but man! I got to have all the fun!" Brady exclaimed, chuckling cruelly as if it were the most exciting thing he'd ever done. "You know, she thought we were friends too," he added in a cooing yet burlesque voice. "Let me write it. She was baking cookies," Brady began softly as Sam's breathing became heavier and more capricious. Brady burst out until maniacal laughter. "She was so surprised! So hurt when I started in on her."

That was all it took and Sam dove for sarcastic demon, placing the knife against Brady's neck. "C'MON! DO IT IF IT'LL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER!" Sam didn't hesitate; he put a slice into the hellbitch's neck. It sizzled and glowed, but didn't kill the beast inside of his now dead best friend's body. "DO IT, SAMMY! DO IT! C'MON!" the Brady demon egged the younger hunter on. Sam's breath was coming in heavy, slightly vocal gasps now as he fought to gain control over his rage. Brady began laughing maniacally, cruelly at Sam as he pulled the knife back, stepped away from hellbitch and left the room, his laughter echoing behind the younger Winchester.

"Oh, Sam," Jess murmered as she stepped toward him and placed a soft hand on his chin, raising his head just enough so she could see his eyes. Her heart clenched in her chest at the tormented and agonizing expression in Sam's mood ring-hued eyes. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known," she told him softly, running the tip of her thumb over his soft, bottom lip. "You were so focused on school, pre-law, and you'd been out of hunting for a long time. Not only that, but really how much experience did you have with demons or knowing that a demon had been possessing your best friend? Sam, it's NOT your fault," Jessica told him as Sam pulled his chin out of her hand, turning his head to the side and averting his eyes. He just couldn't bring himself to look into those large, blue eyes filled with affection and sympathy for him. He didn't feel he deserved it.

"Jess, look at everything that's happened," Sam began hoarsely, head turning back to look at her once more. "I took off with my brother and left you here all alone just to be killed by somebody we thought was our friend," he sighed and let out a quiet, dry chuckle. "I mean how could I call myself a hunter and not even realize that my best friend was possessed by a demon? I was so desperate to get away from that life, to live normally that I refused to see the truth. Instead, I just thought he was messed up from drug addiction, and I tried so hard to get him back on track but it didn't work. How could I not have seen that, Jess? How could I have been so stupid?" Sam scoffed indignantly.

"Sam," the blonde began a bit more firmly. "You can't blame yourself. You had no idea about anything. You didn't know that Azazel force fed you demon blood. You were only six months old, Sam! You were just a baby. You didn't know that Brady would be an open target to demon possession either, and you certainly didn't know that Brady was going to be the one who killed me."

"It doesn't matter, Jess. I should've been there. I should've protected you! You never would've died if I had been there!" Sam replied in earnest. "If I had never insisted on going on that trip with my brother...if I had just acknowledged that those dreams I had were premonitions of your death, then maybe I-," Sam was cut off as Jess placed a finger over his lips shushing him.

Her eyes staring down at his mouth, moved upward to stare into his own. She shook her curly head back and forth at him, closing her eyes. "Sam, even if you had been there, there is nothing saying that you would've been able to save me or not. Don't you see? Maybe I wouldn't have died that night, but at some point they would've finished the job. Baby, for all we know it could've been while you were in a class, and I was at home by myself. Regardless of what their plans were, Sam, it's not your fault."

"But if I had never trusted Brady in the first place, then-," Sam found himself being interrupted again.

"Then it would've been somebody else, Sam! What, were you just going to live out your whole life all alone with no friends, no girlfriend? Just go to school, keep to yourself and bury yourself in books? Not speak to anybody, not go to parties or just go out so you can hang out with friends? Baby, what kind of life is that? You're not a hermit," Jess told him tenderly, holding his face in between her hands. Her eyes held so much love and devotion to him that it made Sam feel like he was crumbling. The younger Winchester could feel his legs starting to turn to mush under him and he went to his knees. Jess followed, still keeping her hands against the sides of his face, and even though he didn't deserve it, he loved and appreciated the feeling.

"It would've been a safer life," Sam mumbled. "You'd still be alive."

"I don't regret the life I had with you, Sam," Jessica told him tenderly, reaching up to brush a long strand of hair from his eyes. "They were the happiest days of my entire life."

"How can you even look at me? Even touch me?" he choked out around the lump forming in his throat. "Haven't you seen everything I've done? I've not exactly been on the right track this whole time myself, Jess. I let my brother die and go to Hell, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I became a demon's lover because I was stupid enough to make the same mistake and trust her, but this time I knew she was a demon and I didn't care!" Sam's voice rose an octave, but Jessica didn't pay it any mind. Her bright blue orbs just stayed fixed on Sam, giving him her fullest attention.

"Jess, I drank demon blood! I killed Lilith! I broke the final seal, and I started the apocalypse all by myself. It was all me. I brought on the end of the world, and you're sitting here touching me and looking at me as though I were as young and innocent as I used to be back at Stanford," Sam found himself pouring out and not able to stop. His voice resounded with shame and regret. "I really messed up, Jess. How could you still even want to be near me, an abomination like me..."

Shaking her head, Jessica sighed, shooshing Sam gently and leaned forward, hands still on Sam's face. She slowly and tenderly placed her lips against his. Sam's eyes widened in shock as he felt her warm lips pressing softly into his own, but then sighed and leaned into the kiss, returning it, closing his eyes in contentment. He could feel the overabundant amount of love, affection, and care for him in the gentle kiss he never thought he'd feel again. Sure he'd dreamed of Jess, of kissing her, of making love to her, of holding her in his arms, of all the things they did when she was alive, but those were just dreams. This felt more real than anything he'd ever dreamed of Jessica since she died.

So, Sam succumbed, allowing himself to fall into her. Everything felt the same. Her lips giving off the faint taste of the strawberry lip balm she always used, her hair smelling like fresh shampoo and her skin emanating a sweet mixture of tropical fruit. He knew it was that body wash and splash she always used, and he loved it. It was all uniquely Jess. He felt her arms go up around his neck as she kissed him passionately, and he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around her slender waist and pulling her flush against his body, crushing his lips harder against hers, with longing, want, and need. The kiss ended too swiftly as he felt Jessica pull back to look at him.

"Because I love you, Sam," she answered him after their kiss. "I've always loved you, and I'll never stop loving you no matter what, because that's what true love is. That's what it's like to be in love. You accept their faults, flaws and mistakes because it doesn't matter. Alive or not, it's not something that just goes away either, Sam. It stays with you even in death. It'll never go away, and I'll never stop loving you," she told him tenderly, in barely above a whisper, giving Sam the answer he'd been aching to hear for years.

That was all it took, before Sam completely crumbled. His eyebrows drawing upward, he broke, right there in Jessica's arms. He felt Jessica pull him gently, so he could lay his head against her shoulder and felt her arms wrap even more securely around his broad shoulders as she shooshed him gently, her fingers threading through his hair and stroking the back of his neck, to trail onto his back and rub soft, soothing circles in between his shoulder blades. He felt his throat constrict and did his best to blink back the unrelenting moisture threatening his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jess," he apologized yet again, his voice thick with tears.

She didn't answer him, just continued to hold him, both still on their knees. She felt his hand grasp onto the back of her shoulder, holding on desperately, and pulling it closer to his face as if to completely hide the humility he was feeling. His other arm was still wrapped tightly around her waist, and she could feel the tips of his fingers digging slightly into her side, but she didn't mind it. He wasn't hurting her, he was just holding on as the years of grief, remorse, and agony washed over him, turning into soft sobs. He buried his face into the side of the warm, soft skin of her neck, letting the tears find their release and make wet tracks down his cheeks. He felt Jessica grip him as tight as she possibly could, not minding Sam's tears on her neck as she gently rocked him. Jess leaned down to his ear, barely letting her lips brush against it, spoke soft, gentle words of reassurance.

"I've never ever blamed you for this, Sam. I certainly don't intend to start now either, regardless of what's happened, what you've done or what you still have to do. I don't regret anything. If I had to go back and do anything differently, I wouldn't. You gave me some of the best times of my life, and I wouldn't trade a lifetime without you for those memories," Jessica told him, her arms still wrapped firmly around his quaking shoulders.

Sam didn't speak; he couldn't speak. There's a million things that he wants to say to Jessica at this very moment, but try as he might his brain isn't properly comprehending what he wants to say, and so he can't think of anything. Even if he could, he probably wouldn't even be able to talk properly over the all-consuming emotion that decided to slam into him like the force of a punch. Instead, he cherishes this moment, relishing the warmth of her body feeling so alive pressed against his, the gentle kisses she keeps placing on the top of his head, into his hair, the soft hitching of her breath almost mimicking his own, the feel of her own tears that she was crying for him on his skin, the scent of her hair and skin, and the easy-going rocking sensation she has him in. It's the most comfort and contentment he's felt in a long time, and maybe for the first time since she died, Sam might believe that it's not his fault.


Thanks so much for reading you guys! I really appreciate it and reviews are always welcome and appreciated greatly!