Sam's roommate thought he was weird. It was understandable, really. Sam had shown up on move-in day with a single duffle bag, not even any family or friends to say goodbye to. More so, Sam's OCD had spiraled out of control, and by the time he moves in to Stanford, he's actually beginning to schedule his organization (on his computer, in an excel program so that he doesn't have to worry about keeping his handwriting straight and even). He hardly eats, finding himself constantly surrounded by other students, and spends most of his time either in class or in a hidden corner in the library.
College is not as nice as he thought it'd be.
Jessica changes everything. Before her, Sam had been barely coasting through this new life. When they are partnered together for a sociology project, Sam can hardly look up, unable to meet her gaze. But when he hears her soft and pretty voice chime out a greeting, he is compelled to look up.
She is beautiful, he knows this from the start. Her smile is warm and gentle and when she looks at him he feels as if she really sees him, and isn't disappointed or malicious towards him. Sam is terribly nervous the first few times they meet to do research, always keeping his head down and speaking softly. But Jess is kind and laughs in a friendly way and doesn't seem to mind Sam being the way he is (who he is). And more and more Sam finds his thoughts drifting away from wishes of invisibility, and more towards what Jess' favorite color is or what she does in her spare time or how her hair seems to shine no matter what the lighting.
After they complete the project (and receive a respectable 95 on it), Sam is surprised when Jess continues to seek him out. They talk, hang out, get to know each other and become closer than either expected. It is Jess who makes the first move, knowing Sam's shy nature would hold him back. Before he knows it, Jess is asking Sam to dinner, and he is saying yes, disregarding the fact that he would have to eat in front of her and he had planned on reorganizing his art history folder that night.
Time passes faster than Sam thought possible, but he can't even bring himself to care. Within months Jess has become his whole world, his everything. Without even trying she has managed to nurse some of the wounds he has been carrying. Because he can't help but find it cute when she looses a shoe in the clutter of her room, and whenever they eat together Jess never wastes their time together commenting on his eating habits. Walking hand in hand through campus, Sam doesn't wish for invisibility, doesn't care if anyone else is staring or ignoring him. Because Jess only has eyes for Sam, and the looks she gives him sooth the ache in his soul.
Jess sees him. And that's all that matters.
When Jessica dies, Sam wants to go with her.
Dean wont let him, so he wants to hide instead. Every time he closes his eyes he can see her, pinned to the ceiling and staring at him. Why Sam? Why Sam? For the first time Sam was to disappear under her gaze. Wants to vanish into the mattress below him. Or better yet, he wants to trade with her. Sam wants to sink to the flames, feel the heat chew on his flesh until there is nothing left but ashes to be washed away by the power cleaner they brought in to try and begin repairs on the charred apartment. Everything is dust in the wind.
Maybe it was having been apart for so long, maybe they had both needed to mature a bit, maybe his grief and anger and pain just made him particularly visible. Whatever the reason, Dean was seeing Sam more in the weeks since they had reunited than he had in the eighteen years they lived together. He suddenly understood that Sam's questions weren't a lack of trust, but a desire to find ways to keep them safe. His sensitivity wasn't girly (always), it was an ability to emphasize. But mostly, Dean began to understand that Sam being different from John and Dean wasn't a bad thing. It was what made Sam, Sam.
At times Sam got annoyed, trying to find the scrutiny unwanted or patronizing, but too much of him was still the same little boy who looked up to his big brother and wanted his attention, his approval.
Either way, it made the drives easier.
When night falls, the Impala is pulled over into a field. The summer night is warm and the breeze turns the long grass into music as crickets chime in. Sam and Dean sit quietly on the hood of the car, beers held loosely in their hands. The sky is clear, giving the two Winchesters a perfect view of the Milky Way and numerous other constellations that they can't be bothered to remember the names of.
Gazing into the night, enjoying one of the few peaceful times granted to the brothers, Sam eyes a shooting star.
"Make a wish…"
It is spoken under his breath, more to himself than his sole companion. Sam recalls the wish he has made for as long as he can remember, when Dean gently nudges his shoulder. Glancing over at him, Sam finds Dean still facing the sky. His older brother's eyes flick to him momentarily, giving him a quick smile. Sam smiles and turns back to the view, ignoring any other shooting stars.
He has enough for now.
Eeh, I don't like chapter two as much. X_x
Well there you have it! See, Dean's a good big brother now, he just needed to grow up a bit (don't we all?).
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and reviews (comments, criticisms, flames, whatever you got) would be much appreciated! Also, I'm working on two other Supernatural stories, so keep an eye out for me!
Thanks for reading! ~BFMS