random-fireworks:

I wasn’t inspired by today’s prompts so I wrote this instead, it’s set in the stanford! era so head the angst, with little bit Sam/Jess. I apologise in advance. 

                                                                               

Jess doesn’t know why she makes her way to Sam’s dorms. But she does. She’s known him for half of the past year, and liked him for exactly that long. Sam is shy around her but she’s almost certain he likes her too.  He’s living in a room that has two beds, and even when he obviously can barely afford it, he paid the money for two so he won’t have a roommate. Funny how she’s always attracted to weird guys.

Not that Sam is weird, perhaps the right word for it is mysterious. She’s not sure what’s pulling her to him, she knows his looks is not everything. She’d at least like to think she’s not that shallow.

The flowers she finds in front of his door are a surprise. She knows, of course, that she has competition, Sam is, after all, the hottest and smartest guy in the history of ever. But the gesture is unexpected nonetheless. Because girls don’t buy guys flowers and leave them at their doors, it’s mostly the other way around. So that leaves her with one idea that she’s not entirely happy about.  A guy left the flowers for Sam.

It’s not something she should do, but her curiosity gets the best of her and she crouches down and takes the sunflowers into her arms. It’s a fairly large bouquet, the stems are almost as long as her arms and the flowers are ridiculously big. She looks for a note but she finds none, and that makes her smile. If there’s no name then she hasn’t a lot to worry about just yet.

The door opens just before her fist connects with it, and Sam smiles at her and for a second she forgets everything and stares.

“Jessica, hello,” He greets, a hint of surprise coloring his features. “Those are for me?” He points with his finger at the flowers and then at himself.

“Oh yes, but not from me. I just found them here,” His eyes widen at the words and he shoves her aside almost violently, and runs the hall in the direction of the entrance. When he’s back his face is shadowed, and his eyes are dark. Sad. It’s there for less than a second before he smiles at her again and apologies. That’s when she learns that his smile is fake. The smile she loves so much is not even his real one.

She wordlessly hands him the bouquet and he takes it eagerly, in a gesture that she’d consider feminine, he hugs them to his chest and bury his face in them. They have no fragrance but he inhales deep anyway. And she can’t see his face but she feels like he’s about to cry.

“So, secret admirer, huh?” She teases, and thank god, he lifts his eyes and looks at her again. When he glances back at the flowers, the edge of his lips is tender, a soft curve that she’s never seen before. He knows who sent the flowers, she’s sure of it. But they banter back and forth and it goes away. She later learns that, that day is his ninetieth birthday.

                                                                            

She kisses him two months after his birthday, and he kisses her back. They move together six months later. On the morning of his twentieth birthday, she finds sunflowers on their steps.

She toys with the idea of throwing them away without telling him, but she doesn’t. Their relationship is going smoothly, and she’s got nothing to worry about. Her gut is screaming at her that something is wrong, but she ignores it. She knows that Sam’s not cheating on her, he’s not that guy, but the mysterious flowers leaves a sour taste in her mouth. Specially at how Sam reacts to them, she’s never seen him smile like that at anything else.

                                                                             

“Dean, please.”

Three months after Sam’s birthday, she sees him trying to melt into another man’s arms. She’s followed him outside the bar without his notice. She couldn’t help it, he just bolted and she moved after him. She’s not meant to see that, she knows. But she stays rooted to the spot nevertheless.

“Sammy, you know I can’t. I didn’t want you to find me,” The other guy- Dean- whispers, but from the way he’s holding Sam like he’ll die if he lets go, Jess knows he’s lying. He wanted Sam to see him.

“You’re being unfair,” Sam whines, and she’s never heard him like this, he’s begging. And he looks so small like that, head on the stranger’s shoulder and face buried in his neck.

“You have a good thing going on here, Sammy. I don’t want to ruin anything,”

“Then why are you here?!” The words are shouted but still sounding like a plea. Dean doesn’t answer, she hears Sam’s sob from where she’s hiding behind the wall. It’s such a cliché, for this to happen in an alley.

“It’s because you missed me, right? Please say you missed me. I missed you so much, Dean.” Sam’s crying, Jess feels her heart breaking. It hurts worse than anything else she’s felt. And they don’t break apart not for a second, if anything they seem to get closer, molding together from how hard they’re clinging.

“You love her,” Dean says “She’s beautiful.”

He’s talking about her, and she knows what Sam is going to say, he shatters her heart a bit more when he actually let the words out.

“I love you more. I will always love you more,”

Tears are flowering over her cheeks, falling down, she stops looking at them, pressing her back to the wall and covering her mouth with both of her hands, trying her best to keep the sounds.

“I know,” Dean says. She hears a whimper, knows it’s from Sam. When she looks again they’re kissing. And she can’t be here anymore, so she leaves. Silent so they won’t sense her.

When Sam gets back that night, he smells different, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s happened after she left. Sam’s eyes are puffy, red. Just like hers. But he doesn’t notice, doesn’t ask her what’s wrong. Doesn’t even bother pretending to be okay. He gently asks her to leave him alone, and locks himself in the bathroom. He doesn’t kiss her for three days after.

When she kisses him, he kisses back, and she just then realizes that she’s initiated everything between then, from the start to now. He never kisses her first.

She also, realizes that she’s the other women, that Sam’s cheating when he’s with her, and that he’s always touched her with his hands gloved with guilt.

She doesn’t say anything.

There’s no more flowers next year, and she thinks maybe they broke up forever after their tryst in the alley. Sam gets better, they’re happy. She’s happy.

She sees Dean again in their apartment, and Sam tells her he’s his brother. Gathers his stuff so fast, and leaves her behind.  When he kisses her and promises to be back before Monday, she tastes the lie on his lips, sees the guilt in his eyes. And more than that the hope, that Dean had finally came back for him.

She knows that she won’t see him again. And she doesn’t.     

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I love it when the first thing I do in the morning is cry because of Stanford era. Seriously, Anon. Thank you so much for this. Seriously, I love when we have the POV of another character on Sam and Dean’s Relationship; we don’t have enough fics like that. I feel bad for Jess though. But this is so plausible…I mean if Wincest was real in the TV show (sigh), Stanford era could have gone this way. This is also so nicely written. Thank you, thank you, thank you! ❤