Chapter Text
“Sam, you have to get over it. It’s already been five years, it’s time to move on”. Sam can hear his fathers voice from the other side of the door, but he doesn’t answer, he doesn't want to open it, he can’t open it.
“Sam”, his fathers voice again, “you have to accept it, he isn’t coming back”. Sam knows that, of course he does. Dean is dead. And he is fully aware that Dean isn’t coming back. But even with that truth he can’t stop missing him. He misses him so much. He just wants to sit in his room and cry, because there is nothing he can do to get his brother back. Nothing. It knocks on the door.
“Come out now, you can’t sit in there the whole day”. He doesn’t want to come out. He wants to sit in here the whole day. Or, what he really wants is to be with Dean. But, that he can’t, he knows that. So he stays in his room. The whole day
—
Sam can’t stop thinking of that day. He hadn't cried as much as he did then in years. But it had been something with that day. To know that it was five years since Dean had died. His dad had wanted him to help him put up the tree for christmas. But Sam had refused.
It’s not really a day he wants to remember, but for some reason he can never forget it. Even though there was nothing that reminded him of that day, the memories didn’t want to leave him alone. Not even now when he has moved out from his fathers house and gotten his own apartment, the memories from his old home don't want to disappear.
A distant buzzing brings Sam back to the now. He picks up his phone that's been laying on the kitchen counter. ‘Bobby’, is the caller ID. Sam accepts the call.
“Hello”, he answers.
“Hi, Sam. It’s Bobby”. The voice of the older man is heard over the line. It’s nice to still be in contact with his Uncle Bobby. Even though they almost never meet because of the seven hour drive between them, they know they have each other.
“I was just calling to check how you’re doing. I know these times can be hard for you”. Sam leans against the kitchen counter looking out the window. Outside snowflakes fall slowly from the sky. These times, he thinks, Christmas times .
“Thanks, Bobby”, he says, “for calling. I needed a distraction from my thoughts about- stuff”.
On the other side of the phone call Bobby sighs heavily. “I know, it isn’t easy for any of us”. Sam doesn't really want to talk about it. It burdens him enough as it is.
”Listen, Sam, why don’t you come over to us during Christmas, huh? Wouldn’t that be nice?”.
Sam almost wants to say ‘yes’, but he already promised Jo that he would spend Christmas with her and her mom. She had forced him to say yes because she wouldn't let him spend it alone.
“I would love to come, but unfortunately I have other plans. But thanks for asking”.
Bobby sighs again, “are you still looking for him?”. Sam shakes his head even though he knows Bobby can’t see him. “I stopped a while ago. Something tells me he doesen't want to be found”.
His dad left him all alone in their home three years ago. He hasn't seen a glimpse of him since then. He had come close to finding him once, but never close enough for any real answers.
“People in hiding usually don't want to be found. And if he doesn't want to be found, there is a big chance no one is going to find him”, Bobby tells him.
“I know”, he answers, “I know. I just wish I knew why he left”.
Sam was just about to start his university studies after years of delay, then only a few days before that his father disappeared and never came back.
“Hey Sam, forget your father. He isn’t worth your time. Think about your future instead okey?”. Sam smiles to himself. “Okay”, he answers, “I’ll try”.
He can hear Bobby's low laugh. “That's great, boy. Unfortunately I have to go now, but feel free to call if you want to talk about something. Have a good one. Bye son”. And then he abruptly ends the call, not waiting for an answer.
He does that often. Doesn't let Sam say ‘goodbye’. Maybe that's his way of making it through it all. It’s not the end if you haven’t said ‘goodbye’, Bobby used to say when Sam was younger. He said it often after Dean's death.
For a while Sam believed him. He was just a kid that missed his brother. But as the years went by he realized that Dean was never going to come back.
Death isn’t something you come back from. Death is where it ends. And you can’t start over.
—
“Hey, Sam. What can I do for you?”, the blond woman behind the counter smiles kindly towards him.
“Hi, Jo. Just a coffee, please”. Jo pats the counter, “a coffee, coming up”, she says and turns towards the coffee machine.
Her family has owned this place for years. They make the best food and drinks in the whole town, everybody knows that.
He met Jo when they were kids, they used to play together, all three of them. Jo, Sam and Dean. She, like everybody else, took it hard when Dean died. But she is one of the few that has been able to go back to her old self.
Sam sits down on one of the barstools at the counter. There aren’t many customers at this time of day. The place works as a bar in the evenings and nights, but during the day it’s almost empty. Only a few customers come in during the day.
“You know," Jo says as she puts down his coffee in front of him, “it’s special prices here tonight, and I’m most likely serving alone, so if you want to you could stop by later”.
Sam looks up at her, meeting her brown eyes. “I don’t like to party”, he says flatly.
“I know”, Jo answers, “but a drink and a little nice company”, she shrugs, “it can’t be that bad, can it?”, she states.
Sam laughs, “I appreciate the invite but we both know that if it’s one drink then it’s two and-”.
“And what’s so bad about that? You need something else to think about Sam”. He sighs and looks down in his cup of coffee. “I know”.
She places her hand on his, “this would be the perfect way for you to stop thinking about-”.
“I know, I know”, he interrupts her, “you don’t have to say it”. Jo lets out a small breath.
“At least think about it”, Jo says, “it could be fun”. She squeezes his hand gently before she leaves him alone with his coffee.
Sam sighs heavily. He knows that it would be good for him to get something else to think about.
But his brother's ghost is going to haunt him forever, he won’t ever be able to stop thinking about him, no matter what he does… So what is there really to lose?
“Hey Jo! What time should I be here tonight?”.
The girl comes up to him again, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Be here at eleven?”, she suggests.
Sam nods, “sounds good”.
Jo lets out a small laugh, “you know, sometimes you’re pretty easy to convince, Winchester”.
Sam gives her a smile, “I am when I want to be”, he says and winks at her.
Jo shakes her head with a laugh, “see you tonight”, she says and walks over to the new customer that just entered the place.
Sam isn’t totally sure why he agreed to this. But maybe it’s the perfect way to get something else to think about, if only for just a little while.
—
Sam parks his white Ford outside the bar. He can hear the pounding tones from the loud music.
His eyes fall on the small digital clock in his car, 22:56, soon eleven. He takes a deep breath. It was a long time ago he did something like this. He devotes himself a last thought to Dean, then he leaves the car.
The cool winter air meets his skin. The green fall jacket doesn't help much against the cold.
When he gets closer to the bar, the music gets louder. It’s not a song he recognizes.
A black Impala is parked right outside the door. An elegant car, he thinks, but it would never be a car for him.
He opens the door to the bar and steps inside. People are laughing and cheering. The music is loud and energetic. Sam doesn't recognize any of the people around him.
He find an empty barstool at the counter and orderes a Whiskey neat. Sam doesn't recognize the man serving him either, but he assumes he's one of Jo's cousins. They have the same blond hair.
The server places his Whiskey in front of him.
“Rough day?”. Sam jumped at the voice so close to him. Beside him a young man is seated. His green eyes looking right at him.
“Ehm, you could say that”, Sam answers, unsure of what the stranger wants.
The stranger extends his hand, “Will Dawson”, he introduces himself. Sam takes his hand, “Sam Winchester”, he says with a smile. Something shifts in Will’s eyes.
“So, are you from here?”, Will asks and takes a sip from his drink.
Sam nods. “Yeah. What about you?”, he asks, “are you from around here?”.
Will huffs a laugh and slightly shakes his head. “No, I’m, I’m not from around here”, his green eyes stare deeply into Sam’s brown.
“I live pretty far from here actually”, Will tells him, “about a 9 hour trip. Arrived here only a few hours ago”.
“So you decided to then go out and get a drink?, Sam asks skeptically.
Will laughs, “well, no”, he says, “two, actually”. That gets a laugh out of Sam.
After a while Will asks him a question. “You said your name’s Winchester, right?”. Sam looks at him questioningly, but Will doesn't continue.
Finally Sam nods, “yes, last name Winchester”. Will studies him thoroughly.
“You don’t happen to know John Winchester, do you?”. Sam freezes. John Winchester. He has been looking for him for years and now some stranger comes and asks him if he knows him.
“Are you okay?”, Will asks, his face concerned. Sam must look as shocked as he feels.
He shakes his head lightly. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine”, he says, nodding, “ehm, John Winchester, he eh”, Sam looks down into his glass, “he’s my dad”, he answers quietly.
“You’re his son”, Will states beside him. “Yeah”, Sam mumbles softly.
“You know, this might sound really crazy”, Will says, “but, I was actually looking for you”. Sam looks at him in disbelief. He can’t be serious.
“You see, I met John a while back, but he-”.
“You met him?”, Sam asks, even more in disbelief.
“Yeah, I did”, Will answers, “but he told me he would only talk to you”.
“He told you my name”, Sam questions. There was no way John Winchester, the most secretive person he knew, would tell some stranger his own son's name.
Will shakes his head. “No”, he says, “but he told me he had a son, and that he would only talk to him”. Will pauses, there is something in his eyes that reminds Sam of his childhood with Dean.
“He will only talk to you, Sam”.
Younger him would have felt like it was an honor to be the only one his dad would talk to, especially since he never told him anything, It took John weeks to tell him Dean was dead.
But now, being the only one his dad will talk to feels like a stab in the hearth. It feels like the only reason he agrees to talk to Sam is because he knows he’s never going to find him. It’s so pathetic. A complete stranger is able to find and talk to his dad, but he hasn't even seen the glimpse of his dad for three years. It’s pathetic.
“And I really need some information from him”, Will continues, “so can you please help me?”.
Sam is well aware this is a bad idea, but still only an hour later he finds himself at home waiting for Will to pick him up.
—
A loud car horn sounds from outside. Looking out the window Sam can see the black Impala from outside the bar. No way the Impala is Will’s.
Upon exiting the apartment building with his duffle bag, he sees that the Impala is indeed Will’s.
Will rolls down his window when he sees Sam coming.
“You can put your bag in the trunk”, he tells him. Sam does as he’s told. Then he goes to sit in the front, beside Will.
“Ready to find your dad?”, Will asks as he starts the car.
“Ready as I’ll ever be”, Sam answers as confidently as he can muster.
“Great, then let’s get going”, Will says positively turning out onto the street.
“What makes you think I can help you”, Sam asks after just a few minutes of driving, with the only sound being the motor, and AC/DC playing over the car radio, “I mean, don’t you think the only reason he agrees to talk to me, is because I will never be able to find him?”.
“Do you really think that?”, Will asks, quickly glancing at him before turning his eyes back to the road, “that you will never be able to find him”.
“I’ve tried for three years, Will”, Sam says looking out his window, “and I still haven’t even found his shoe print”.
Will shakes his head slightly, “look Sam, don’t worry about you having to find him, okay?”. Sam looks at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You don’t have to worry about finding him”, Will states again, “I’ll find him and you’ll talk to him”.
“And how do you plan to find him?”, Sam asks skeptically.
“Trust me, I have my ways”, Will says, quickly meeting Sam's questioning gaze, “my job is finding people”, he explains, “so I know a thing or two about that sort of thing”.
Sam nods even though he’s still skeptical about Will's ability to actually find his dad.
“And to be fair, I’ve already found him once. Which makes it much easier to find him a second time”, says Will.
“How come it’s easier now, doesn't he know your ways and how to hide from you?”, Sam asks.
“You would think that”, Will says, “but most people don’t think like that when they’re in hiding. And even if he did, he has a reason to want me to find him”.
Sam waits for him to continue, but he doesn't.
“What’s the reason?”, Sam asks finally. Will gives him a quick look and stays quiet for a few seconds before answering.
“I have something he wants”, he answers, “I can’t give it to him, but I can keep it safe”.
“What is it?”, Sam asks. Will sighs.
“That”, he says, “I can’t tell you”. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look.
“Look, the more people that know, the less safe it is”, Will explains. Sam gives him a look. Something in the form of a pouting child. When Will turns his head to look at him, he can’t help but chuckle at the sight.
“Come on, Sammy, don’t give me that look”, Will says,
“I can’t tell you, at least not before we’ve found him”. Sam barely heard the last part.
Sammy.
He hasn't heard that nickname in years. He hasn’t heard it since Dean died. He always used to call him that.
His shock must be pretty visible on his face, because the next time Will looks at him he asks.
“You okay, Sam?”. Hearing Will's voice once more snaps him back to the present.
“Yeah”, Sam says, “yeah, i’m okay”.
“You sure? You look a little pale”, Will says. Sam shakes his head slightly.
“I’m fine, really. I just, I got caught off guard”, he answers, Will gives him a questioning look, “I’m fine, really”, Sam reassures him.
“Okay, if you say so”, Will says, “but if something's wrong you have to tell me, okay”. Sam nods for an answer.
They sit quietly. Again the only sounds being heard is the car motor and AC/DC.
In the silence a weird feeling of familiarity washes over Sam. It’s like he’s been here before. In this car or with this man or in this situation.
But, the weirdest part is that he has never seen Will before this evening and not the car either.
And this situation, looking for his dad with a stranger, he has certainly not been in before. But he still can’t shake that weird feeling of familiarity.
—
It was 03:27, when they decided to take into a motel. The room’s small, with two single beds and a tiny bathroom. Will's in the bathroom brushing his teeth.
Sam still hasn't been able to shake that weird feeling of familiarity. It’s something about Will, something about his whole being that makes him seem so familiar.
The weirdest part is that he has never met the man before, he knows nothing about him, and still it feels like he should know who this man is, or more like he already knows, he just can’t place him, can’t figure out where in his life he has met this man before.
“I’m going outside to take a call, I’ll be back in a minute”. Will's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He doesn't have time to answer before Will is out the door.
His sudden exit makes Sam believe that there is something more going on than just finding his dad.
A few minutes later Will returns.
“Who was it?”, Sam asks, curious about what could be so secret, that he rather stand outside in minus degrees instead of risking Sam hearing what he said.
“No one”, Will is quick to answer.
“Really? Because you exiting the room to talk to ‘no one’ seems pretty weird”, Sam says, very skeptical.
Will sighs and sits on his bed, facing Sam. Sam sits down as well, not caring that he’s still wearing the clothes he has worn the whole day.
“It just feels a little weird telling you anything about my private life”, Will says.
“This whole situation is a little weird isn’t it?”, Sam says. Will huffs a laugh and nods.
“It is weird, yes”, Will answers, “I mean I’m a stranger to you. It’s not many people who would trust a stranger to help them find their dad, you know”, he says with a pointed look at Sam.
“Yeah, trust me I know”, he says, meeting Will's eyes, “but we don’t have to be strangers, right?”.
“What do you mean?”.
“I mean, that since we’re already spending quite a lot of time together, why not get to know each other at the same time, it’s not like we have to be strangers”, Sam explains.
“You’re like a teacher on the first day of school”, Will states, “but fine, tell me something about yourself”.
“What do you wanna know?”, Sam questions.
“I don’t know, like…”, Will trails off, looking down on the floor, thinking, “tell me about your family, like why is your dad in hiding?”, he asks, meeting Sam's gaze.
“That”, Sam says, “is a long story”.
“Give me the short version”.
Sam huffs a laugh. “That's easier said than done”. Will shrugs his shoulders.
Sam runs a hand through his brown hair. “Okay, so”, he takes a deep breath, then he begins.
“When I was ten, my brother died”, he pauses, trying not to relive the memories, “he was only fourteen when he passed in the hospital. I took it really hard, cried for years” Sam looks down on the floor, he can’t bear Will's sympathetic eyes, “I guess my dad couldn't take my inability to move on, so he moved on without me… He left me alone in our apartment and since then I haven’t heard from him”, Sam looks up at Will again, “so basically”, he says, “I have no family”, Wills eyes sadden even more, so Sam is quick to say, “but it’s fine, I have a lot of other people”, he even manages a small smile.
“You couldn't have had it easy”, Will states.
“I was fine”, Sam says, “now, I would like to ask you to do the same thing, tell me about your family”.