Drinks on Me

6

Aimey sat patiently in the police station, wringing her hands. She had followed up with the police and was waiting for her mother's belongings. The cause of death had yet to be determined, but the police had been acting strange, and Aimey was growing uncomfortable with waiting. She had begun to stress when she saw Sam exiting through an office on the other side of the glass. Mentally debating, she stood up and walked towards him.

"Sam!"

He spun around, and his face brightened when he saw her. 

"Aimey?" He called, walking over. She opened her mouth to speak but he enveloped her in a hug, pulling her against him. He was warm and solid and smelled like sun, and she sunk into him for a few moments. He pulled away, and smiled at her again, but his face was red. 

"Sorry about that, it's just been a long day and I'm glad to see a familiar face. What brings you here?"

He must have noticed her face fall, because he placed a hand on her shoulder. Aimey could see his eyes were tired, and she felt sorry for him. She knew that Dean's attacker hadn't been caught yet, and could tell it was weighing on Sam. 

"It's my mom, she passed a few nights ago and I'm here to collect her things." 

"Aimey," Sam sighed, pulling her to him again, "I am so sorry." 

"It's okay," she breathed, "It was just unexpected is all, and I'm still not sure how it happened."

Sam frowned, looking concerned. 

"Aimey, want to grab a coffee or something when you're done here?"

"It could be a while," she said, looking back at the counter where the receptionist was arguing with the sheriff. 

"I don't mind waiting," he said, and walked over to the chairs in the corner.

She sat down beside him, and picked up a magazine. Sam had some scifi book on his lap, so she flipped through the pages until she realized he was staring at her.

"Sam?" she whispered.

"Sorry," he said, laughing quietly. "I zone out sometimes, and I got a little carried away."

"It's okay," she smiled.

"Aimey?" a voice called from reception. She stood and walked to the counter, where the woman handed her a box of belongings. 

"Ready to go?" Sam asked, standing up and tucking his book into the leather satchel that hung around his waist. 

She nodded, and walked out with him. The air was warming considerably with the sun, and as they walked, she found herself boiling under her jacket. They passed through the downtown, past the cafe and out towards the other end. Aimey found herself passing the pub, but Sam continued down the street. They walked for another few minutes before reaching a crossroads, but instead of continuing straight, Sam turned towards the edge of town.

"Is this the part where I find out you're a murderer and I end up like all those missing people?" She laughed nervously, but in reality she was beginning to get nervous

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I meant to ask if you'd like to come back for coffee, but I zoned out again, we can head back if you'd like." he said, stopping and facing her. He looked seriously worried, and Aimey smiled. 

"It's okay, I don't mind heading back, I just want to make sure I get back in time to open tonight."

"I can drive you back the other way, I haven't used the car since Dean..." His voice trailed off, and he continued walking. Aimey felt guilt settle in her chest, and she hurried to catch up with Sam. A few moments later, after entering a culdesac of Victorians, they arrived at a historic looking, whitewashed home, complete with columns and a wraparound porch. A new car sat in the driveway, freshly cleaned and shining in the setting light. She edged carefully past a dog sleeping on the porch, and followed Sam into the house. It was a surprisingly grand house for one guy, but then again, she had no idea about Sam. It had occurred to her that entering a stranger's house might not be the best choice, but he seemed safe enough and the smell of fresh bread cooking filled the house, drawing her down the hall towards the kitchen. She paused at pictures of Dean, lining the halls, and looked at him. There were ones of Sam and Dean as kids, posing with their father, and some of both their parents, but those seemed to stop soon after Sam appeared. An older man was pictured beside their father, and then came the war, the walls littered with pictures of Dean beside an airplane and Sam holding a graduate degree. The last picture on the wall showed Dean, standing with his arm around a man in a doctor's uniform. The man was smiling over at dean. A faint emblem of angel wings was stitched onto his jacket, and Aimey recognized it as the tattoo Dean had on his shoulder.