Back to Stanford

Dean didn't notice anything was up, his thoughts all focused on how much he was not looking forward to shopping. Hopefully they'd be able to get it over and done with in a minimal amount of time.

As they got to the impala, Dean got into the drivers seat, waiting for Sam to get in. Hopefully when they found dad everything would go back to normal, or at least normal for them.

Sam dumped the laptop on the back seats and shut the door. He hesitated when he was going to open the front, though, his hand lingering on the handle. He just couldn't do it.

Stanford had so many damn memories... He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly and then turning around. What if he saw someone he knew? Oh god...

Dean glanced to the side, and saw Sam hesitating by the door. Was he alright? Dean saw him clench his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dean frowned in concern, and he got out of the car, walking over to Sam. Something definitely wasn't right here. He needed to know what was wrong.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as he went round the car, moving to stand in front of Sam.

Sam opened his eyes. "Me? Fine." he sighed. "Can we just.. uh... not go to Stanford?" he asked, hesitantly.

Damn - hopefully Dean would understand. He probably would... but still. He hated being like this in front of him. It was just so... so... depressing.

"Sure," Dean agreed without hesitation. Maybe shopping here had been a bad idea after all, it was bound to be full of memories of Jessica, of happier times for Sam, no doubt. They could just as easily go somewhere out of the area.

Sam didn't look fine, despite what he said, and Dean was getting the feeling that they were going to have to talk about this soon. It was obviously really getting to Sam, and they never really did talk about it the night before.

Sam was kind of surprised Dean didn't seem to care where they went. He could probably figure it out, which Sam hadn't really been thinking about anyway.

"Great." he said, looking less freaked out than he did before now that he could safely say they weren't going to Stanford. Sam would probably be alright now... at least, for a while.

Good. Hopefully that was all sorted now, and they could go shopping without any more incidents. After that Dean didn't really have a clear set plan for what they would do, though he knew eventually, after the funeral arrangements they, or at least he, would have to head back to Forks, and see if they could find any clues as to their fathers whereabouts.

He looked back at Sam, focusing on the present. "Okay, good," they were still standing my Sam's side of the car, and at this rate they weren't going to make much progress. "You ready to get in now?" Dean asked, taking a few steps towards his side of the car.

Sam got in the car without a word. It had been a day. Not even that... Jessica had been there for a moment... and then she was just gone, no longer on the earth. So they were going freaking shopping to replace the stuff he lost in the fire. Though, it was apparent he wasn't going to replace the very dearest he'd lost. God... he could never replace her. That was wrong. It was all so wrong... just everything.

He stared out the window. Seeing, but not seeing.

Dean walked round, getting into the drivers seat after Sam had got in himself. Looked like he wasn't in the mood for talking, he was just looking out of the window brooding. He was probably going to be like this for a long time, Dean couldn't see Sam getting over Jess overnight.

Starting the car, Dean drove on, looking for signs for the next town, hopefully somewhere Sam hadn't been with Jess before.

After a while Sam spoke up. "There's a place a few blocks down here." he said, not even looking around over to Dean.

He had never been there before for some reason. Sam wasn't sure if Jess had or not, though. He would be glad to get in some clothes he could actually call his own anyway...

Dean nodded, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Eventually they got to where Sam was talking about, and it was still pretty near Stanford, though hopefully out of the area enough not to freak Sam out.

Parking the car, Dean got out. Time to get this over and done with.

Sam got out and shut the door of the Impala. He just wanted to get this over and done with now, and then they could go find another motel or something. It was nearing lunch now, so they would probably end up going to find a diner first. God.. how long would he have to hang around in Stanford for?

He blindly walked into the store. But oh god how wrong he had been. Jessica had been there before. And he stopped at the sight of some bright red high heels on display near the entrance. Her favourite shoes...

Dean walked after Sam, and caught him staring at a red pair of high heels. Sam was into cross dressing now? "You can't be serious," he muttered as he came to stand by Sam, "Looks like I really do have a sister."

Then it dawned on him. Sam was probably thinking about Jess, and - damn, he really should have made the connection. He really should learn to be less insensitive.

Sam looked at Dean, hopelessly. Trust Dean to say something like that. But how would he know? It wasn't like Sam had been going on about Jess' favourite shoes...

"They were Jess' favourite pair of shoes." he said. "And she... wore them all the time." He swallowed, his voice breaking. "The last time was with her red dress... we had dinner... and the guy accidentally spilt her wine down the front." he laughed, though it sounded somewhere between laughing and crying. "She never got it out... but she could clean the shoes..."

He really had screwed up there. He'd completely messed that up. All they had come to do was get Sam some clothes and then be done with it, but nothing could ever be that simple for them. And the way Sam had looked up at him, his expression completely broken. He looked like he was going to cry. Dean wished there was something he could do, wished he could detract his earlier comment, wished that they had never gone to this damn shop.

Dean placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, looking him in the eye. They needed to get out of here, maybe do the shopping later, somewhere else.

"Take it easy, man," Dean said, resisting the urge to pull him in for a hug, wishing that he could protect Sam from all these reminders that kept coming back to haunt him barely a day after Jess had died. "We should get out of here," he added as an afterthought, not wanting to make a scene here, in this random store.

Sam nodded and looked away, blinking as his vision got misty. God, he wasn't going to just cry in some store. It was bad enough Dean was there, let alone in public.

And just as he thought things couldn't get any worse... "Sam!" Oh no... not that voice.

A brunette girl started to come over. "Oh my god... Sam... I-I heard what happened."

"It's okay... Emma, I was just leaving." replied Sam, quickly, wanting to just go.

"But really - I am sorry... I tried to call you but..."

This was just getting better and better. Dean looked irritably at the girl who was coming over to Sam, trying to talk to him. The timing really couldn't be any worse. Then she started talking to Sam, who obviously didn't want to talk to her about it.

"Back off," he practically growled, then reigned himself in. He needed to stay calm for Sam, and scaring his friends was not going to help matters. Though they really needed for her to back off, stay out of this. Sam was practically having a breakdown in the middle of the clothes store, Dean was pretty sure he could see that Sam's eyes were starting to get watery. "Now's really not a good time," he spoke again, a little calmer but still on edge.

"Sorry." Sam apologised for Dean's outburst. He knew he was only trying to get him out of there, like he really wanted to, but he couldn't just yell at her, especially since she was one of his friends.

"I... uhm... I'll call you later... I just really gotta go." he said, turning back.

He heard Emma sigh from behind him, and now he just felt bad... he knew her, and he knew that he would have been the only person she would go to right now. She'd probably gone shopping to feel better. It was the only way she took her mind of stuff... and now he was just walking away.

Dean knew he had probably made this worse as he followed after Sam. He needed to get some sort of control over his temper, especially when it came to Sam. He sighed, he just kept screwing things up. That girl was probably one of Sam's friends, and he'd shouted her down. Not a good start, especially if they were going to be attending the funeral with all of Sam and Jess's friends there.

Dean was glad the Impala was not far away, barely a few metres from the store. It was like a haven from all of this chaos.

Sam walked out into the street. Keep walking... keep walking, he thought, over and over, trying to think of anything but Jess. But she was just everywhere, here. He'd never taking one second to think of how much she still lingered around there. She was gone... but at the same time she wasn't. Couldn't she just stay or leave?

He looked down. Just keep walking... But he slowed again, just like before, stopping at the Impala.

Dean stopped next to Sam, wondering whether they should start looking for a motel soon. Sam had looked dangerously close to losing it in that store, and risking it again could only be a bad idea. Hopefully a motel would be relatively free of memories of Jess, seeing as there was no reason he could think of for Sam to be going near one while he was at college.

Glancing at Sam with concern, Dean's hand moved to rest on Sam's arm, trying to tug him round to face him.

"Are you okay, after-" Dean trailed off, Sam would know what he was talking about.

"M' fine, Dean." muttered Sam, staying in exactly the same spot, not turning around, barely even noticing Dean was holding onto his arm. He couldn't even go in a store... could he do anything anymore, without being reminded of Jess? Well, probably since she had been in his 'normal life'. At least that didn't cross the line... even if the supernatural crossed the line to normal.

Hunting. That would make it easier. But no hunts. Not now.

Dean let go of Sam's arm, when it was clear that Sam was not budging. He clearly wasn't fine, despite what he said.

Nodding, Dean took a step back, if Sam said he was okay then Dean wasn't going to push him, not here anyway. "We should find a better motel," he said after a while, thinking that finding a new motel would hopefully take Sam's mind off Jess, "Seeing as you totally screwed up my bed in that old place."

Sam smiled sadly. Yeah... though the beds weren't exactly five star in that place anyway. That was the thing about being on the road. Sometimes there wasn't a choice in what motel they stayed in. And most of the time, it was crappy run down roofs with beds under. At least it was somewhere, though...

He opened the door. "Let's go." he muttered.

Dean got into his side of the car, starting the car. He watched in rear view mirror as the store went out of view, and he felt himself wishing that they would be able to get out of Stanford soon. Did they really have to stay for the funeral? At least when they were hunting he knew how to deal with things, everything was black and white. But with this, Sam's worsening emotional instability as a result of Jess's death, what the hell was he meant to do to make that better?

Dean tried to focus on the road, looking out for signs for a motel, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. Right now he could concentrate on driving, and stay in the present. He'd deal with each new problem as it arised.