A/N: Here's another attempt at a chapter fic. This one is inspired by "What Is and What Should Never Be" but with a twist. In this story we get to see Sam's perspective, as he is the one captured by the Djinn. I hope you enjoy! Thanks to all my supporters, you are amazing! Love and hugs! And as always, I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. For entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

Darkness. And then pale blue, shimmery light as the Djinn pressed elongated, bony fingers at Sam's forehead. The hunter's heart raced madly in his chest as he tried to free himself from the genie's grip, but it is to no avail. Is this how I'm going to die, he asked himself miserably. Alone, attacked by a fucking genie, for godssake!. For a moment, an irrational thought comes to mind as he thought of the genie in Aladdin. He can just hear the snide remark: Brought down by Robin Williams? You're slipping, Sammy!

Dean. The fact that he was about to die alone is what bothered Sam the most. No big brother to comfort him, hold him as he slipped away. It was a stupid, reckless idea to hunt the damn thing alone, even with Dean laid up with a bum ankle. But people were dying, and Sam knew full well that if the situation had been reversed, Dean would have hauled his ass over to the abandoned warehouse a lot sooner than he had.

Dean. No, he couldn't give up. Not when his brother needed him, in so many ways. A sudden energy and need to fight back overwhelmed Sam, and his struggles became fiercer as he tried to pull away the creature's fingers. But by now it was too late. Eyes focused only on his prey, the Djinn slipped one cold, sinewy hand around Sam's throat and gently squeezed. Oh hell no. No way that some genie was going to take Sam down. He kicked his legs viciously, hoping to land one square in the creature's family jewels, but already the younger Winchester felt weakened as precious oxygen was cut from his body. He let out one last, poorly aimed kick as his body went slack, the Djinn finally claiming its prize.

XXX

Sam regained consciousness to a splitting headache, stiff muscles, aches all over his body. The typical results he was accustomed to when fighting of supernatural beings. What was not typical was lying in a soft, Queen sized bed in a visibly feminine master bedroom. Or the sight of his clothes, not the typical hunting outfit but the preppy stuff college boys sometimes wore, folded on the nearby chair. Or the sound of the shower running in the ensuite bath.

What the hell? Sam rubbed his temples gingerly, the sharp pain intensified by his sudden movements. Okay. It was obvious that the Djinn had done something; he had remembered reading something about how the creature somehow knew what your greatest wish would be. And Sam knew without a doubt what his wish had been, from the moment he was a young boy. Could it be? Was it possible…? Anxious, for fear that he was about to be horribly wrong, Sam pulled aside his covers, snooped around what was no doubt his bedroom. He had an idea who he was sharing it with, and the thought was so intense, so intoxicating, that Sam almost didn't want to confirm. It would only hurt too much to think that he had her back, especially after losing her in such a horrific way. But sure enough, a glance at a framed picture on his nightstand confirmed what his heart had been so desperately hoping for. Nestled within the glass was a picture of him and Jessica on the beach, no doubt taken just recently. Jess is dressed in a plain white bikini, her shades resting on top of wind tousled blonde curls, blue-green eyes sparkling. Beside her, Sam is grinning to the camera, a bottle of Lipton green tea iced tea in one hand, the other wrapped lovingly around Jessica's shoulders.

Jessica. His beautiful Jessica. Full of life, happy, alive. Sam felt a lump forming in his throat, overwhelmed by emotions. This was it. The life he had always wanted…

"Sam, shower's free."

And there, standing at the door with only a towel wrapped around her, stood Jess, running a hairbrush through her freshly shampooed hair. For a moment, Sam could only stare, the shock of seeing his dead girlfriend alive and well still not quite registering. And then, as the young woman gave him a rather quizzical look, Sam rushed to her, held her in his arms, eyes moist with tears.

"Sam, are you ok?" With a slightly nervous laugh. "I was only gone for a few days. I've been at my parents' place longer before." Right. She has no idea that she's supposed to be dead. That she had burned alive before my very eyes almost two years ago. Quickly regaining his composure, Sam pulled away, smiling somewhat sadly. "I know, just glad to see you that's all." He looked down, saw the diamond ring on her finger. He was engaged. Sam was marrying Jessica. The thoughts overwhelmed him, to the point where he pulled Jess into another hug, just to stable himself.

"Well, aren't we clingy this morning," Jess teased, planting a kiss on Sam's forehead. "Maybe I shouldn't be marrying you after all."

"Yeah, well…"

"Sam, are you sure you're ok? You look a little tired."

"Just a headache," Sam replied weakly. Man, he had never been as good at the impromptu as Dean was. As if to emphasize, he massaged his forehead gingerly, wincing at the sudden pressure. Jessica gave him a sympathetic look and brushed aside a lock of his far too long brown waves with a lover's gentle touch. "A hot shower will work wonders," she said, kissing him again. "Oh, and there's a bottle of Aspirin in the medicine cabinet, extra strength. Picked some up yesterday after work."

"Thanks." Sam smiled, for the first time that morning. By some miracle he had Jess back. The life he had worked so hard to get. A look of what seemed to be relief washed across Jessica's face, and Sam remembered that his behaviour must have been odd to her. To her, this was any other morning, with the same old routine as always. To Sam, this was waking up in a dream: a beautiful, incredibly vivid one, but a dream nonetheless. In fact, it terrified him that this really was a trick of the subconscious. Hell, the last thing he remembered was being attacked by the Djinn, and suddenly he's…

No. He can't think that this isn't real. He won't. Sam quickly undressed and steps in the shower, closing his eyes in bliss as the hot water cascades along his shoulders. It had been a while since he had indulged in a luxury of a long, hot shower in someplace other than a skeevy motel. The water pressure was fantastic, the tub clean and best of all, tall enough to accommodate his towering frame. The perimeter of the shower is lined with sweet smelling bottles and shaving creams, and Sam recognized the bottle of Herbal Essences in the corner. Jess' favorite. In the other corner was a bottle of Sam's brand, and he smiled as he squeezed a small amount into his palm and massaged the creamy substance into his damp hair. This is perfect. Can't wait to tell Dean…

Dean. Sam froze as he thought of his brother. He had no clue where he was, what he did, if he was a hunter, or even if he was even alive. Could he have possibly come to a world without his brother? It was a miracle that Jess was back, but could be really be happy without his brother? Sam finished his shower in record time, dressed in his new wardrobe (jeans and a polo shirt) and rummaged through his things in desperate search for his cell phone. Down the hall he could hear Jess working away in the kitchen, the smell of coffee brewing and muffins baking in the oven making his mouth water. God, he had missed her cooking. Jess had always been baking things, cookies, scones, apple pies…

The thought of the pie reminded Sam of his task and he quickly located his cell phone. Praying that everything would be ok, he clicked on his contact list, and sure enough, DEAN was listed as the first one. Heart pounding in anticipation, he pressed dial and listened to the sound of the phone ringing on the other end.

"Hello." Kind of gruff, typical Dean greeting.

"Dean!" Sam could hardly contain the excitement in his voice. His brother was alive and well, thank God.

"Yeah." Slight confusion in his brother's voice. Of course. Only Sam was the newcomer in this strange world. According to Dean, and Jess, the younger Winchester had always been a player in this game. He would be the one acting out of the ordinary. "What's up Sammy? Good thing you called when you did, in about five minutes I would've been out the door."

"Did you find a hunt?" The question slipped out without even thinking. And, as expected, there was a slight awkward silence at the other end of the line. "I know you're in California, dude, but it IS January here and I don't feel like dragging my ass in the woods looking for deer."

Deer. So Dean wasn't a hunter. Hadn't even heard of the life, judging by his misinterpretation. Sam smiled in spite of himself. No family business. Which meant that Dad hadn't introduced them to hunting in the first place. Which meant…

Maybe their mother was alive.

"Sam, you ok? You seem a little off. Jess have a little too much fun last night? Jostled that big law school brain of yours?"

That was the Dean he knew.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Where are you, man?"

"Um, Lawrence." Sam could practically hear the duh in his brother's voice. "Hate to let you go li'l bro but I'm about to be late for work. So what's the prob, man? Need a little advice with giving Jess a good time?"

Lawrence. Dean had a job in Lawrence. Sam couldn't believe his good fortune. It seemed that everything was falling into place, like a glove. Part of him was still skeptical (nothing is this perfect, after all) but Sam was still on a high from having his girlfriend back, his brother happy with a steady job, that the little bit of anxiety remaining was starting to ease.

"Sammy? You ok? You're sounding weirder than usual. And this coming from Wierdy McWeirderson."

"Huh? No, I'm fine man, just wanted to call and say hi. I'll let you go, man. Have a good one at work."

"Yeah, you too. I'll see you in a few weeks…"

"For…"

"Your wedding, Sam. Sheesh maybe someone slipped a little something in your drink last night?" There was genuine concern in Dean's voice and Sam made a mental note to just go with it next time. "Yeah, right. Guess I'm still tired. I'll see you then, man."

"Wouldn't miss my pain in the ass little brother's wedding for the life of me. Besides, whose gonna stand up there with you when you throw your life away? Nah, just kidding man." With a chuckle.

"Better be," Sam smiled. Getting married in two weeks with Dean has his best man. This was getting better by the minute. "Talk to ya later, bro."

Sam snapped the mobile device shut, tucking it in his jeans pocket. He scanned his surroundings one last time, vision slightly obscured by the moisture in his hazel eyes. If only he knew for sure that his parents were alive, everything would be perfect. But that, that was just too much to ask for. A father who would spend his afternoons practicing curve balls with his kids, who fired up the grill on special occasions, had a normal job instead of chasing monsters for a living; a mom who was very much alive, there for birthdays and graduations and prom night pictures. Who would soothe scraped knees with kisses and make her famous tomato rice soup when her sons were sick.

He had to know.

In the kitchen, Jess was humming some Disney song Sam remembered from….well, before. That one from Pinocchio. She had always had a soft spot for Disney. "Never too old to unleash your imagination," she had smiled when Sam questioned the fact that a girl in her twenties watched Beauty and the Beast at least once a month. Sam remembered how he had found that cute, and had even endured the stuff for her. Now, watching Jess in jeans and a Stanford U t-shirt, a large apron tied around her waist, Sam smiled. The sound of "When You Wish Upon a Star" filled the tiny kitchen as Jessica stirred pancake batter and tossed a few blueberries in the mix. God, she was beautiful.

"You've got a smudge," Sam smiled, wiping a bit of flour off Jess's nose. The girl smiled, setting her bowl down long enough for a gentle kiss. "Labour of love for my future husband," she grinned. "Now sit down, these pancakes aren't going to cook themselves."

Sam swallowed nervously as he sat at the little kitchen table, watching as Jessica poured the batter over a smoking hot griddle. It was the moment of truth. He had to know if his parents were alive.

"So, Jess," nervously, picking at a fray in his jeans, a nervous habit he'd had since childhood. "Did we get the RSVP form Mom and Dad yet?"

"Why would they need to?" Jess turned, looking somewhat confused. "They're your parents. Of course they'll be there." She looked at Sam rather anxiously, forgetting about the pancakes until the kitchen suddenly began to fill with smoke. She didn't see Sam wince at the thought as memories of that horrible night flashed before him.

. Jess is pinned above his bed, fear and horror in her blue-green eyes. She is dressed in a frilly white nightie, the one she had bought especially for Sam a few days before they had moved in together, the red from the gash in her abdomen contrasting with the white. Sam watches, frozen in terror, as Jessica's body bursts into flame, soon engulfing the tiny room. The heat is intense…

"Sam? Are you sure you're ok?" The burning pancakes safely flipped, Jess is now leaning beside Sam, her eyes filled with concern. "You don't seem to be yourself this morning. Are you coming down with something? You always did study too hard."

"No, I'm fine." Sam smiled, gently rubbing a thumb against Jessica's cheek. "Just tired." And relieved that Mom and Dad ARE alive and well. This is perfect. The life I've hoped and prayed for for years.

When you wish upon a star.

"Good. 'Cause I think the pancakes are still a little, uh, extra crispy." Sam laughed as Jess turned to the kitchen to attend to her burning breakfast. He heads to the coffee maker, pours a cup and watches as his girlfriend slides the pancakes on a platter, once again humming Disney tunes.

Sam's head is lolling to the side, eyes closed. He appears to be unconscious. His hair is matted, face dirty and bloodied.

Sam blinked, almost spilling his coffee. What the fuck was that? Did he just have a…a vision of himself, out cold? Quickly he turns to Jess, whose back is still turned to him. Thank God for small mercies. The last thing he needs right now is for her to see him in this state. Hell, both she and Dean think that he's lost his marbles at the moment. Sam closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. It was nothing. Probably just lack of sleep. Hell, he's been trying to convince that to Jess and Dean all day. By the time Jess has placed the pancakes, a side of bacon and a fresh muffin at his side, Sam had regained his composure.

It was nothing. It has to be. Taking a bite, Sam closed his eyes, pushing aside the horrible image that had just invaded his subconscious, potentially shattering his psyche. It was nothing. After all, he had everything back that he had always wanted. What could possibly go wrong?