The Journal of Sam Winchester

(not Sammy)


i'm listening to you, i'm just ridiculously hot, i'm impressed by you
Sam Winchester psychic_wonder
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16 Unicorn Street, Saturday evening
Once Peter made it clear that he trusted Sam, it hadn't taken much to gather the few belongings he had in that box, as well as the painting he'd done, and say goodbye to Caitlin and Ricky. With Peter safe, Sam's mood had greatly improved, and he'd even said thank you to the two of them for taking care of Peter as they left, despite their failure in getting Peter home to his family and friends. One long plane ride later, Peter and Sam were back in the US, where Sam had booked a portal straight back to Fandom. Peter had been taken from New York, that much was certain, and Sam wasn't about to leave him there to have it happen again.

With Dad, Zoe, and Grace gone, Sam figured staying at the house would be a better idea than taking Peter back to the dorms. They had a kitchen with plenty of food, and most importantly, a nice bedroom to stay in. Sam wasn't about to push for anything physical while Peter still couldn't remember him, but that didn't stop him from keeping his hands on Peter as much as possible, like if he let him go he'd disappear. And that didn't stop him from being a creeper staying awake while Peter rested, so he could watch him and make sure he was really, truly okay.

Peter would be lying if he said leaving the few people he knew didn't scare him. Fortunately nobody asked. Besides, he had to do whatever he could to try to get his memory back, and so far Sam was his best chance.

Plus Peter instinctively trusted Sam. Being close to him felt right. It was nice to know that somebody out there had missed him, and was glad to have him back. It made Peter think that maybe he was a good guy after all.

Peter didn't recognize anything about where he and Sam went. But it was Sam's home and Peter trusted Sam, so as much as he could Peter felt comfortable. Certainly comfortable enough to try to get some sleep when a bed was offered. Heck, sleeping on a real bed was a luxury in and of itself after a shipping container and the back of a pub.

Peter was able to rest for a while, then, before waking up and seeing Sam there. Peter rubbed a hand over his face before looking up at Sam. "Hey."

"Hey," Sam said, trying to look casual, like he hadn't been studying the rhythm of Peter's breathing. "Did you have a good nap? How are you feeling?"

Peter looked at the time. "Jetlagged, I guess. You?"

"I'm okay," Sam said. He was exhausted and jetlagged, but Peter was here; "okay" was kind of a middle ground. "I'm sure you'll feel even better tomorrow," he added, reaching over to put a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Thanks for the bed," Peter said. He turned to his side so he could face Sam better, trying not to dislodge Sam's hand. "That's an improvement already."

"You don't have to thank me. What's mine is yours," Sam said. "That includes a comfortable place to sleep. I'm sorry you haven't had that."

"Is that - " Peter felt stupid asking but he honestly didn't know. "Do we do that? Share everything?"

"Most of the time, yeah. I even have the key to your apartment," Sam said, smiling softly. "I don't mind answering any of this stuff, for the record. I keep thinking maybe something I say will jog your memory."

Peter smiled. "That's part of why I'm asking. I hate to say it but so far nothing. I've been here before?"

"Yeah, this is where my dad, stepmother, and sister live," Sam said. "We lived in the dorms while we were at school, but you've been over here a lot. Usually to check up on me."

"Do you need a lot of checking up on?" Peter asked, not sounding like he minded if that was the case.

"Sometimes," Sam said, not sure how much he wanted to admit. He didn't want to scare Peter away with stories of demons and ghosts. "I get into trouble as much as you do. When it's all over, I usually retreat here to be alone, but you always come and find me."

Peter smiled. "So it's not just me who gets in trouble. Guess this time it was your turn to find me?"

"We take turns rescuing each other. You're a lot better at it than I am though," Sam said sadly.

Peter ducked his head to try to catch Sam's eyes. "Hey, so far you've done it all the times I can remember you needing to."

It was a tiny attempt at a joke, but also sincere.

Sam smiled gently at Peter as he looked up again. "I just wish I hadn't taken so long. I should have known you weren't really dead."

Peter winced. It was so strange to think that people had thought he was dead. That to those who had known him he effectively had been.

"How long was it?" Peter asked.

"Four months next week," Sam said. "The day before our 18 month anniversary, because our lives are kind of weird like that."

"Sorry." Peter gave an apologetic look. "I'm sure I got you something really nice."

"You got me something really really nice this month," Sam said, taking a chance and giving Peter a soft kiss.

Peter was okay with that. He kissed Sam back. He smiled up at Sam and said, "You know you're the best kisser I can remember."

"I'm the best kisser you've ever had," Sam said, snickering a little at the joke. "Is it okay? The kissing? I mean, me kissing you. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's okay," Peter told him. "It's weird. I don't remember anything but some things just feel right. Like my name, your name, kissing you. All that feels right."

Sam couldn't help but smile at that. "You know, this isn't the first time you've lost your memory. A few years ago, something weird happened here, and for a whole weekend almost everyone lost their memories. You and I were together when it happened, and even though we couldn't remember anything else, we knew that we were somehow connected. We're right together, no matter what."

"Really?" Peter smiled. "That's pretty cool. Guess that means we always find each other."

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