The Story of Sammi

A Blast From the Past

Life with the Winchester boys is always an adventure. Even when I think it is going to be a nice, relaxing day, we somehow still find ourselves in the midst of chaos. For example, Sam and Dean were out getting us some lunch one afternoon. They had no cases to work that day, so we were hanging out at the hotel, enjoying some "down time". Now if y'all follow Sam and Dean's work, you know they don't get very much time to themselves. On this particular day, however, all three of us were in store for a really wild ride. The boys had returned with our food, and we had just sat down to eat when there was a knock on the door. "Seriously?" Dean said sarcastically. He got up and walked over to the door. Peering through the peephole, but keeping the door locked, he asked, "What do you want?" "We're looking for a Samantha Weston," one of the men replied. "Can I ask what this is about?" Dean wasn't playing. He was very protective of me, just as he was with Sam. "We're here on official business, sir," the other man said. "I don't believe you," Dean told them. "What kind of scheme are you trying to pull?" "No scheme," one of the men said. "We're cops. We're going to slide our badges under the door now." Sam and I watched as two leather billfolds slid by Dean's feet. He picked them up and examined them, looked at us and nodded to let us know they were real. As Dean unlocked the door to let the cops in, I looked at Sam with confusion and fright. Why were the cops here looking for ME? I had never once been in trouble with the law. Sam put his arms around me and held me tight. "It's alright, baby," he said. "Just hear them out. Dean and I won't let anything happen to you, you know that." The cops made their way over to where Sam and I were sitting. "Are you Samantha Weston?" the taller of the two asked. "I am," I said, a little nervous. "Did I do something wrong, officer?" "We're not here to arrest you, ma'am," he replied. "We believe we have a relative of yours in our custody." "A relative of mine?" I said in shock. The only relatives I had left were my father, whom I hadn't seen in years, and an older sister. Last I knew, my sister had gotten married and moved to Canada. "Yes, ma'am," the cop said. "We did a background check and your name came up as a possible relative." "I see," I told him. "It wouldn't happen to be James, would it?" The second cop decided now was a good time to join in our conversation. "That would be him, ma'am. So you do know him?" I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes again and said, "Unfortunately, yes. He's my father." Sam and Dean both shot a look in my direction. "Your dad lives here?" Sam asked. "It looks that way," I replied. "I haven't seen the man in years. I don't even know if I remember what he looks like." The taller of the two cops spoke again. "We haven't been able to get a hold of his wife. Do you know how to reach her?" I laughed. "I don't even know her name, to be honest. My father walked out on my mom, my sister, and me years ago for the woman he is with now. Like I said, I have not seen him nor have I heard from him in years. Until you guys showed up, I didn't even know if he was still alive." Both cops nodded, then the shorter one said, "That's understandable, ma'am, but we still need a family member to come down to the station just to verify we have the right person. We can't be too careful these days." "It's a long shot," I said, "but I'll try. I think I have an old picture of him that I could use as a reference." "We appreciate your cooperation, ma'am," the taller cop said. Dean decided it was time for him to speak up. "She'll do your identification on one condition, and that is that she rides down to the station with me and my brother." The cops looked at each other, then back at Dean, and the taller one said, "Fair enough. Follow us." We followed them out to the parking lot, where they hopped back into their squad car. Sam, Dean, and I got into the Impala and followed the cops to their barracks. Sam, who had jumped in the back seat with me, said, "Are you alright, sweetie? This has got to be pretty awkward for you, given the circumstances." "It is," I admitted. "I'm not really sure I want to do this, but he's still my father, regardless." He put his arms around me and hugged me tight. When we got to the station, I followed the cops into the holding cell area, picture in hand. They pointed me in the direction of the cell where James Weston was being held. I took a deep breath, walked over to the outside of the cell, and looked inside. I didn't even need to glance at the picture in my hand to know who I was looking at. All these years later, and the man hadn't really changed much from the way I remembered him as a child. He was a lot older now, but that was honestly the only difference. He stood up as soon as he saw me and made his way over to where I was standing. Sam, Dean, and the cops all watched protectively, making sure he didn't make any wrong moves. "Hello, Sammi," he said, smiling. "You have no right to call me that," I said sharply. "Only my closest relatives and friends can call me that. You lost that privilege when you walked out on us years ago." "I deserve that," he replied. "I owe you an apology." "I don't need an apology, dad," I said, feeling tears swell up. "I need the last 21 years back. Nothing you say or do is going to make that happen." "I know," he said, looking sad himself. "You have every right to hate me, I get it. Just know that I never stopped loving you or your sister. I thought about you every single day. Still do." "If you say so," I snapped. "You could have written, called, something. You missed birthdays and Christmases. I bet you didn't even know that mom died." "When did that happen?" he asked. "Hell if I know!" I screamed. "She went crazy a few years after you left and dumped me and Scarlett with nana and poppy. Scarlett ran off to Canada with her now husband and I went off to college for a few years. Until two years ago, I was all alone. I had no one." My father looked like HE was ready to cry, "I'm sorry, Samantha. I should have contacted you or your sister. You deserved that much." "Well it's too late for that," I said. I looked at the cops and said, "You got your identification. Can I go now?" They both nodded and I started walking toward Sam and Dean. "Samantha, wait," my dad said. I turned back around to face him. "I know I can't make up for the time we lost, but I would still like to TRY and work on a relationship with you." Dammit. As much as I hated the man for leaving us, he was still my father and I have a big heart. I took a pen to the back of the photo I was holding and scribbled down my phone number. I handed it to him and said, "Don't abuse it. Start slow. It's going to take time for me to get used to this, and even more time for me to think about forgiving you." He smiled and said, "I understand. And thank you." I nodded and turned to Sam and Dean. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough excitement for one day." Sam walked over and grabbed my hand, and together with Dean we walked out to the car, hopped in, and drove off into the sunset.