Title: "Fell in Love with a Girl"

Author: Lila

Rating: PG-13

Character/Pairing: Sam

Spoiler: "Provenance"

Length: Part I of IV

Summary: When Dean falls in love, Sam gets a life.

Author's Note: First "Supernatural" fic as well as my first time writing an original character, so please be gentle. The format is a bit different than my usual style, but I think it works well with the nature of the piece. It started out as one-shot and then became so long that I had to split it up and made it into four separate sections. Title and quotes courtesy of The White Stripes. I hope you enjoy.

---

"Red hair with a curl…"

Her name is Lily and you don't know it at the time, but she's destined to change your life.

You meet her in a bumblefuck town in the Maryland backwoods when one of her students turns up dead and no one can explain why. You pick up a mention of the girl's grisly murder in the Hagerstown Herald-Mail, and head straight for the teacher who was the last to see her alive. You pose as reporters from the same newspaper and Dean turns on the charm for the aging secretary and after a few minutes and compliments that make you groan inwardly from a lack of originality, you're heading to room 201 for some one on one time with Ms. Lily Darling. Dean bets you a hundred bucks that she's wearing polyester pants and a Christmas sweater, and it's on.

Lily Darling turns out to be everything except what you'd expected her to be. She isn't wearing polyester or a sweater and judging by the charm on her necklace, you doubt she celebrates Christmas. She has curly red hair and pale, pale skin with a spattering of freckles across her nose. There's no cleavage to speak of under the thin cotton of her t-shirt and her jeans hang loosely from flat hips, but her legs go on for days and her blue eyes sparkle and her cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass. She isn't beautiful, but she's stunning, striking, and you like the twinkle of intelligence in her eyes, the amused slant to her mouth. For a second, just half a second, her hair turns blonde and her body fills out and it's Jess sitting in front of you. When you blink Jess is gone and Lily is staring at you like she can see right through you, like she knows all your secrets. She knows you're lying and she knows the jig is up, but she lets you keep up appearances anyway.

You glance at your brother, to gage his reaction to Lily Darling and her too seeing eyes, but you find yourself staring at a Dean you don't recognize. Visions of Cassie and nameless pick ups in nameless bars flash through your mind, and this girl isn't like any girl you've ever seen Dean look at twice, but he's staring at her like he needs her to breathe. You wonder if he sees what you see, or if he's just wondering what it would feel like to have those long, long legs wrapped around his head. You don't want to admit it, because you don't like to think of yourself as that kind of guy, but you're curious too. It's been a long time since Sarah, a longer time since you flirted in a bus station with Meg, forever since Jess. Your forehead prickles and you feel the heat flush your skin and you push away thoughts of Jess, rub phantom blood from your forehead. You need to focus, concentrate, make sure another person doesn't end up like your dead girlfriend.

Dean is still staring at the skinny, pale girl you need to interview, and you're tempted to nudge him or clear your throat or do something to get his mind back to business, so you shoot him a funny look instead. It doesn't work. You and step forward to introduce yourself, pull out a notepad for authenticity, and wait for your brother's Winchester charm to kick in. It never does. Instead he can't take his eyes off Lily Darling and when he extends a hand and it wraps around hers, he gives his name, his full name, and you wince while she smiles in a way that lights up her entire face.

"It's nice to meet you, Dean," she says and your brother's smile matches hers and you wonder if it's a succubus you're dealing with rather than a schoolteacher because you've never seen Dean act like this. Never. You take that back – you've seen him this way, all awestruck and enthralled – but only when you're running for your lives and turn a corner and the Impala is waiting for you like a beacon of hope in the endless dark. But never for a living, breathing, pulsing female. It scares you, Dean like this, blowing his game straight to hell and acting like anyone but himself, acting like you. He seems to realize what the hell he's doing and pulls his hand back, but you notice his ears burn a little red as he pulls out his own notepad and his usual mask of nonchalance slips back into place.

He won't quite meet Lily's eye as you start the interview so she focuses on you instead, and she's staring so intently that you can see the flecks of green in her blue eyes. Like Jess' eyes, warm and bright and clever, and she keeps staring at you like she knows the answers before you even ask the questions. You make it through two of them before she tells you to cut the bullshit and tell her who you really are.

"I know you're not reporters. My best friend works for the Herald-Mail, and I've met all her co-workers." Her eyes flit over both of you, locking on Dean for an extra beat. "I'd remember meeting you."

He says nothing, but can't quite hide the smirk as he pretends to scribble on his notepad.

"I don't care who you are," she continues and you note the resolve in her voice. When Dean straightens a little, you know he notices too. "But Marissa was one of my best students and I want the thing that did this to her behind bars. I'll help you in any way I can."

You don't want to tell her that you can't throw whatever killed Marissa Sanderson into the back of a patrol car and ship him to the local correctional facility for twenty to life. It's been too many times that you've rolled into town and blown some innocent's world apart when you reveal that the big bad isn't something only seen on "Buffy." "Lily, look – " you start but Dean interrupts, reaches out a hand to finger the charm on her necklace.

"Where did you get this?" he asks and you turn your eyes to the silver pendant carved in the shape of a hand, a bead of turquoise pressed into its open palm.

"It's a protection symbol," she says. "They're particularly popular in the Middle East. My mom brought it back on her last trip. I'm a single woman living by myself – you can never be too careful."

And you can't help noticing the smirk returning to Dean's face when her dating status is revealed.

"Smart girl," he says, and you catch a of approval.

Her eyes dart to Dean and back to yours, and she laughs. "But you knew that, didn't you? You just wanted to see if I did." She shakes her head incredulously, crosses her arms over her chest, and fixes Dean with a challenging stare. If she'd inherited the gene, you think she'd be cocking an eyebrow instead.

"Guilty as charged," he says and you're half expecting to him to say he's clumsy as well, but he just keeps looking at her and she's looking back at him and you're feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, only you're not the one on the receiving end. A prickly feeling lodges in your stomach as you watch your brother act out what could have been your life. You choose to ignore him, get back to the task at hand. A girl is dead and you want it stopped before you have more blood on your hands.

"Lily," you try again. "We're going to ask you some questions and they may sound kind of weird, but I want you to answer as honestly as possible, okay? Tell us everything you know, even if you don't think we'll believe you."

She sighs heavily and looks at you, and then Dean, eyes locking on him like he's some

source of strength. "I'm glad you guys are here," she says and the relief is evident in her voice. "I haven't told anyone this because I didn't think they'd believe me." She clutches the charm in her hand, the silver chain wrapping around her fingers. Her voice drops to a whisper but she presses on, "I was there when Marissa died. I saw that thing rip her in half." She looks up and there are tears in her eyes but they don't spill down her cheeks as her eyes flash angrily in her pale face. "I sponsored the hike, I encouraged Marissa to come. She doesn't – didn't – have a great home life, and I thought it would be good for her to get away. I asked her come; I asked her to collect firewood; it's my fault she died."

"Lily," you start but she shakes her head and continues.

"I was her teacher. It was my responsibility to keep my students safe. They trusted me – she trusted me – and I let her down. I can't let it happen ever again."

Again, the look on Dean's face could only be described as approving. "That's why we're here," he says. "We'll make sure this thing never hurts anyone else."

She nods, and it's the sleek precision of a grunt accepting orders. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."

Now you're definitely feeling a sense of déjà vu and the feeling in your stomach grows and latches on, spreading with an icy burn through your chest. Another girl, another life in danger. Just because you got lucky with Sarah doesn't mean it will happen again. You've been afraid of the dark for too long to think lightning doesn't strike twice. Dean's forehead furrows and he shakes his head. "Lily," he says and she shudders a bit, just a tiny bit, and you realize it's the first time Dean has said her name. "I get that you're upset, but we do dangerous work." He flashes one of his trademark smiles. "Leave the fighting to the big boys."

"Dean," she says and he does that shudder thing too as she says his name. "You may have the big muscles, but I have the big brains." She stands up and in her Converse sneakers she's only a couple inches shorter than him. Her back is ramrod straight and she tosses her hair over her shoulder as she looks him dead in the eye. "I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

You half expect him to fight her on it and tell her to back down like a good little soldier, but he throws his hands in the air and steps back. "It's your funeral," he says and she responds with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, you only live once, right? I'd rather burn out than fade away." She laughs at her own bad joke, and you laugh with her, breaking a bit of the tension in the room. She gathers her things and you follow her out, and it's only when the door is closing behind you that you notice Dean isn't laughing at all.

---

You spend the rest of the afternoon pouring over books in the local hall of records and watching Dean watch Lily over stacks of dusty volumes, and the prickly feeling in your gut has spread to a body wide ache. They're not talking to each other, barely looking in each other's direction, but every now and then Dean will trace the line of her cheek with his eyes or she'll accidentally brush his shoulder, and the ache in your gut will flare up in a painful burn.

You close your eyes for a moment, just a moment, and rub your forehead because it aches with a lingering reminder of your sins.

You're back in the Stanford library studying for your first college final and a study group is spread out around you. The boy to your left pushes his glasses up his nose and keeps clearing his throat, and the girl to your right represses a giggle when he does it for the hundredth time in ten minutes. She has curly blonde hair and her blue eyes have flecks of green in them, and she says to you, "I don't know how he's getting any studying done making all that noise. I know I'm not."

The boy in question clears his throat, louder this time, and you turn back to the girl, and for a moment all you can do is stare at her, because she's beautiful and she's smart and she's talking to you and you can barely catch your breath but eventually find the words. "Do you wanna get out of here?"

Dean would have been proud, so proud, if only you'd been at a bar or a frat party or anywhere but trapped in the stacks. Her forehead wrinkles a bit and you're terrified she'll say no, but then her lips curve into a smile that lights up her entire face, and she agrees. "Sounds like a plan."

You end up at a coffee house, which has better atmosphere and no annoying study mates, and even though you're separated by a foot and a half of books and papers, you can feel the heat of her across the table, and you're still amazed she's hanging out with you. Every now and then her foot will brush yours and she'll smile apologetically, just a quick flash of her eyes meeting yours, and turn back to the books while your cheeks flush red and your jeans feel a little too tight. When she does it for the fifth time, you nudge her back and it's her turn for flaming cheeks, and you finally reach across the table and extend your hand. "I'm Sam," you say as you wrap your fingers around hers and smile.

"Jess," she says. "I'm so happy to have met you."

It's a moment that changes your life.

---

When you blink the moment is over and you can hear Dean's voice calling your name. "You okay, Sammy?" he asks. "Thought we lost you for a moment there."

You don't bother correcting the nickname, but you rub your forehead as you collect your thoughts. "Sorry, just zoned out for a second." You nod to the stack of books. "I forget how dry this stuff can be."

Dean leans back to stretch his legs. "College boy like you? You should be a pro by now."

Lily watches the bantering with a small smile and closes her book. "Where did go for undergrad, Sam?"

"Stanford," you respond with a hint of pride in your voice. You don't tell her that you didn't make it to graduation and Dean doesn't correct you.

"And you, Dean?" she asks, and she's watching him with those knowing eyes, waiting to see what kind of response he crafts. It's a game to her, challenging him, and you're surprised to see the loose set to his shoulders as he answers her call to action. This is fun for him too – you can't remember the last time you saw him this relaxed.

"Isn't it obvious?" he eventually says. "School of hard knocks, baby."

Lily just laughs. "The things a boy will say to get in a girl's pants," she says and for a moment her eyes lock with Dean's. He seems jumpy when everyone turns back to the books, like he doesn't fit in his own skin, and you see him start a little when Lily's foot accidentally brushes over his.

---

An hour or so later you've tracked down the werewolf that took out poor Marissa, and Lily still insists on tagging along.

"I know self-defense. I could push your nose through your brain in half a second flat!" she insists when Dean tries to persuade her to stay in the car.

"Yeah, but I need someone to watch over my princess." He shows her a series of scrapes behind the left passenger door. "A crazy woman who drowned her kids did that. I need you to stay here, watch the car, make sure no one hurts her again."

You think he sounds ridiculous and Lily must agree, because she has him pinned to the ground with her thighs clamped around his hips before he can show her the ugly dent beneath the gas tank. She has a hand on either shoulder and her face is only inches from his and for a moment you think you're going to witness Dean in an honest to god PDA. But she just leans forward, red hair hiding her face, and whispers in his ear. "I told you I know self-defense." You watch, repressing a laugh, as she draws up one of her knees and rests it between his splayed thighs. "If you know what's good for you, you'll let me come."

The statement hangs in the air and from the way they're pressed up against one another, you wonder if there's more than one meaning in her request. "Yeah?" Dean manages to say, and a deaf person wouldn't miss the roughness in his voice. "But can you shoot?"

A crack sprouts in her armor and her face falls for just a moment before she regains her composure. She pushes away from him and leans back, drawing that precariously placed knee to rest on the ground again. Her eyes dart from Dean to you, and back again. "I'm a fast learner."

"You're lucky I'm a good teacher," Dean responds and they're locked in a staring match, neither willing to break eye contact.

You groan, retreat to the backseat with your dad's journal and your notes from the library and pretend to read up on werewolf lore. "Come on kids, let's get this show on the road." You point to the slowly darkening sky. "We only have an hour more of daylight before we shoot that sucker dead."

They jump apart long enough for Dean to rummage in the trunk and locate the spare pistol. They're barely a hairs breath apart as Dean leads her to a copse of trees, and you should be doing research or searching the journal for clues, but you can't take your eyes off them.

Lily claims to have never held a gun before, but her fingers are strong and steady on the sleek shaft and she holds her arms like she's been blowing bark into little bits for her entire life. You just hope Dean thought with the right head long enough to load the gun with regular bullets because stealing some old lady's silver and melting it down for ammunition isn't your idea of a good time.

Dean comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her, fingers locking over hers. "Let me show you," you hear him croon in her ear and she – they – lower the gun an inch or so. He brushes her hair behind her ear and lets go of her fingers to point at a crumbling section of bark thirty feet away. "Aim there, keep your eyes focused, don't let your arm jerk."

You have to look away because it's too much like everything you lost.

You're standing in a bar and Jess' back is pressed up hard against your chest, one hand locked at her waist and the other gripping her right wrist. "Like this?" she asks and you pull your arm back, hers following suit.

You release your wrist and hers goes along for the ride, the dart slipping from her fingers and hitting its target. You smile at the bullseye, breathe in the vanilla of her hair and the sweetness of her skin. "Just like this."

Lily's voice breaks through your train of thoughts and from the looks of things, she's ready to start shooting. "Like this?" she asks and shifts her face a little, just a little, for Dean's go ahead, and their faces are inches apart again and you turn away before it's another PDA moment. It doesn't happen because Dean just manages a tiny nod and she turns back to the trees. He has one arm still wrapped around her and his hand is locked on her waist, holding her flush against him. A knowing smirk flutters across her face and you hear Dean laugh, low and rasping, "Just like this."

The air protests angrily as the gun cracks and the bullet shoots through the air, sending a spray of woodchips in your direction. Lily's arm is steady and her hand doesn't jerk, and she and Dean are both breathing hard and grinning like maniacs sharing some private joke and you can't believe you met the love of your life studying for poli sci while your brother picks up chicks by giving them shooting lessons.

A branch snapping breaks through the still night, and everyone jumps, Dean landing in front of Lily. "Sam, it's coming hard on our left. Lily, stay behind me but be ready." This time, she follows orders like the good little soldier Dean needs her to be.

---

The werewolf stalks you in the dark and you can just see the glint of moonlight on its silvery haunches while it growls and lunges and attacks. Fighting the Wendigo flashes through your mind and while you know the werewolf can slice you in half with one swipe of its paw, you're thankful you can at least see it. You're searching the woods in a line of three, Lily pressed between you. Dean keeps glancing over at her, checking to see if she's ready, and she is, gun cocked, silver bullets loaded, finger secure on the trigger.

It jumps out at you, teeth bared and you see the blood drain from Lily's face, but she doesn't scream. She doesn't cry. She simply raises her gun and pulls the trigger before you or Dean can get to yours. The werewolf drops in a defeated mess at your feet and Lily takes a step toward it, her body shaking a little but her arm steady and strong. You exchange a look with Dean as she raises the gun and pumps the remainder of her bullets into the dying corpse, and the look on his face is the same one your father wore when you vanquished your first ghost. "This is for Marissa," she says and collapses in an exhausted heap beside her prey.

Dean hands you a bottle of lighter fluid and his Zippo and tells you to burn the corpse while he sees to Lily. You refuse to look at them as images of Jess flash through your mind: cleaning the cut on your shin from soccer, holding packages of frozen peas to the flag football bruises on your quad, pressing her mouth to the pattern of scars on your back just because.

You don't protest when Dean tells you to unleash your inner pyro and leads Lily to the car. She's still shaking but hasn't cried and Dean isn't saying anything as he gently swabs a scrape on her cheek. You're loathe to bother them, but the smell of burning werewolf is making you a little nauseous, so you prepare to play the third wheel. They both look happy to see you, and both ask, in unison, if you're okay. You tell them that you're fine and shake off the feeling that you've landed in the twilight zone.

---

Lily says it's kind of morbid, but still insists on buying you and Dean a drink to commemorate the experience. Dean, never one to turn down free booze and hot girls, agrees. You haven't made a decision on your own in months, so you come along too. Lily suggests a place in town and Dean drives and she climbs into the backseat without a moment's hesitation. You're grateful, and not just for the chance to stretch your legs after the fight. With the way Dean's acting, you can't take another change in your routine. A blast of Metallica fills the car and you groan, but Lily says she loves the song.

Two pairs of eyes land on her incredulously.

"You didn't go through a goth stage in high school?"

You and Dean barely attended high school let alone stayed at one long enough to go through a phase. When neither of you respond, she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms defiantly. "Whatever. When I was dating Ryan Turner in ninth grade, "Unforgiven" was our song."

You repress another laugh as Dean's hand pauses on the dial for a second, ready to change the station and erase all memories of Ryan Turner. Instead, he catches Lily's eye in the rearview mirror and cranks the radio while he steers the car back to civilization. You turn to look at the guilty party in the backseat. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

---

The bar is dark and crowded, because it's Saturday night and the weather is warm, and the Metallica is still ringing in your ears as Lily shoves her way to your table. Dean is sipping his beer and watching her move through the crowd, and you break the silence to get his attention. "Dean, we don't have to leave tomorrow," you say. "We can stick around for a few days, relax, reboot. You can use the time to crush on your girlfriend." He responds with a sharp elbow to the ribs when he recognizes the reference.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"But you like her." You think you sound like a broken record until you realize you are a broken record because you've had this conversation before, about a different girl, the one who was lucky enough to survive. You don't let yourself think about Jess and what might have been if you and Dean had shared this conversation earlier.

"We're leaving in the morning, Sam."

"Right, of course," you say into your beer. "That's what we do, we leave."

Dean doesn't have a chance to respond because Lily is beside you, humming something you pray isn't Metallica under her breath. She smells like sweat and power and victory and you're aware of Dean shifting in his seat as she presses against his back to set her beer on the table.

She's dumped her t-shirt in favor of a tight tank that shows off her minimum cleavage but rides up to reveal a flat belly and draws attention to those endless, endless legs. You need to get away from her, away from them, because you can feel Jess' phantom legs locking around your waist and the slick skin of her thighs sliding against yours as your fingers tangle in her hair and you drown in her, drown in her, drown in her.

You've never been so grateful in your life when the dartboard opens up and Lily smiles that smile that lights up her entire face – Jess' smile. "Anyone wanna play a game?" she flirts, and you see the challenge is back in her eyes, and her jaw is set with military precision.

"Sam?" she asks, but you decline, because you're tired and achy and Dean might kill you if you spend alone time with his girlfriend, but mostly because you're not sure you can spend five minutes with Lily Darling without collapsing in a grieving, emo puddle at her feet.

Dean agrees and Lily's smile is shameless as she slips a hand into the waistband of her jeans and pulls out a brown leather case. She opens it to reveal five shiny knives nestled in their sleeves. She picks up a knife, hands it to your brother. "We play my way."

She slinks off towards the board and Dean remains beside you because he doesn't seem to be able to move.

"Dean," you joke, but your tone is dead serious. "Marry that girl."

"Fuck off," he whispers under his breath and follows Lily to the dartboard like he's just died and gone to heaven.

It's a moment that changes his life.

---

Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time.