Title: "Fell in Love with a Girl"

Author: Lila

Rating: PG-13

Character/Pairing: Sam, Dean/OFC

Spoiler: canon through "Provenance" and then goes AU with teeny, tiny references to anything through "Everybody Loves a Clown"

Length: Epilogue

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

Disclaimer: I own only Lily. If you'd like to borrow her, let me know and we'll negotiate.

Author's Note: Well, this is it, the final installment of my journey with Lily and the boys. Thank you to everyone for your wonderful support for this piece. I struggle to finish multi-part fics, and the feedback has been so helpful and encouraging, and I wouldn't have been able to finish it without all of you urging me to keep going. Thank you again for reading and guiding me through this fic. Quote courtesy of Regina Spektor. I hope you enjoy.

---

"No, this is how it works

You peer inside yourself

You take the things you like

And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made

And stick it into some

Someone else's heart, pumping someone else's blood

And walking arm and arm

You hope it won't get harmed

But even if it does

You'll just do it all again"

---

September drifts into October and the weather starts turning cold, and you abandon trolling the flat, endless highways of the Midwest and trip through the Northeast instead because Lily wants to watch the leaves turn and neither you or your brother can turn her down. Dean shakes his head, but doesn't protest, and even though he acts like it's the dumbest thing he's ever heard, he can't quite hide the smile on his face when you arrive in Ohio and the leaves spread along the highway in gorgeous shades of yellow and gold and bright red, like the light catching in Lily's hair, and she wears a grin as big and bold as a little kid on Christmas morning.

You laugh to yourself because you spent all of last night salting a stranger's house to keep the ghosts out and you're all running on about three hours of sleep. You laugh because you watched that angry spirit drag Lily across the floor like a sack of flour when the owner's little girl accidentally kicked a break in the salt line and one of that thing's hands locked around her ankle and tried to drag her into hell. You laugh because she cheated death, again, and when she looks out at the world she doesn't see anything ugly or evil about it. She presses her nose against the window pane and her eyes go wide and full of awe as she watches the cycles of life, and she says to no one in particular, "Isn't this the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

You smile and turn back to the trees and the falling leaves and the world going on and on around you, even when you're not ready, because that's just what it does – it lives.

In the front seat Dean brushes Lily's hair back from her face and tells her nothing is more beautiful than the girl sitting next to him, catching her hand and rubbing his thumb over the bare ring finger. It's something he's taken to doing since she agreed to be his wife and you first thought it would bother you, and when it doesn't you decide you're finally growing up. It still burns a little, deep in your gut, but it doesn't hurt anymore because you know one day there will be a girl sitting next to you and wearing your ring and making all your dreams come true.

---

There's another pesky poltergeist harassing another confused stranger, and you spend the afternoon researching in the public library because your motel of the moment lacks internet service, and Dean and Lily are supposed to be checking out the local Hall of Records, but when you return home they're nowhere in sight even though you can hear Lily's laughter ringing through the crisp, autumn air.

There's an open field behind the motel, a couple hundred yards from the dying ice machine, and when you turn the corner you stop and stare because your brother is lying in a pile of leaves and he's pulling Lily down on top of him and she's laughing and laughing without a care in the world, like she didn't almost die a few weeks earlier, like your gang hasn't devoted its existence to hunting the thing that ruined your lives. She sees you and pushes herself up with one hand, and Dean groans as all her weight transfers to a spot right below his heart, and she waves, and you laugh despite yourself, because you want to be angry and scold her for going off task, but you can't because there's a yellow leaf caught in her hair and she's wearing that same bright, brilliant smile as the first morning. "Sammy, come here!" she calls out and you put down your research and head over.

She grabs your wrist the instant you're within reach, and you prepare yourself for what's coming next because she tugs and you collapse beside them in the leaves, and you're surprised at how well they cushion your fall, how you feel like you could spend all day with a pillow of red and gold cradling your head. Lily is sprawled across Dean's chest and he's stroking her hair absently with one hand, and you're all silent as you watch the clouds dance above in patterns of pale, wispy white.

It gets old after about two minutes.

"Lily, Dean," you say. "I hate to interrupt the party, but we have work to do. You know, real work, like the poltergeist we're supposed to be hunting?"

"Shhh," Lily says, and snuggles deeper into the crook between Dean's neck and shoulder. "Just watch, Sammy. For two seconds, forget about the ghosts and ghouls, and just watch, okay?"

You try to focus on the patterns of clouds moving above, and it takes everything in you not to keep looking over your shoulder for a wendigo or a poltergeist or something ugly and evil lurking in the shadows. You close your eyes and let the cool air and bright sunlight roll across your cheeks, and it feels good – really, really good – when your breathing loosens into an even keen and the knot in your shoulders unravels and you when you open your eyes you're just lying in a field with your brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law and there's nothing ugly or evil in sight.

You're all three staring up at the clouds and Lily says she sees a dog chasing its tail and Dean says he sees a skinny chick with a huge rack, and Lily only giggles louder and tells him to be happy with what he has, and then they start kissing and it doesn't bother you nearly as much as it should. You still tune them out and try to concentrate, just like Lily asked, but you don't see anything other than fluffy clouds riding across a sky of deep, pure blue. You don't see puppies or "Girls Gone Wild" rejects or even devils and angels and the other usual things people claim to see sailing across the horizon. Your brain analyzes sophomore year astronomy and runs over facts and figures about cloud composition and precipitation percentages, and refuses to see anything except the scientific mixture of air and wind and pressure riding high in the sky.

You screw your eyes closed tight, so lights press against the lids, and open them to try again, because Dean and Lily are so calm and at ease at your side, and you're a little jealous of how peaceful they are when your mind can't stop spinning like a top against the contours of your skull. It's quiet, so quiet the only sound is Dean and Lily's easy breathing and the wind ruffling through the leaves. You can feel Dean's heat pressing against your shoulder where your arms are touching, and Lily's hair has gotten long and it trails across your chest with each gust of chilly autumn breeze. The clouds are still rolling and turning overhead, and you still don't see anything out of the ordinary, nothing you can't explain away with science and progress, but then something catches in the corner of your right eye. You blink, because you're tired and worn out and the long tendrils of hair you saw tumble across the stretch of sky could just have been Lily's curls blowing in the wind, but when your eyes focus the long length of hair is still there and there's a face behind it, and you haven't seen it in the flesh in nearly a year but you know it as surely as you know your own.

Jess' lips curve, long blonde hair blowing back from her face to reveal a wide, brilliant smile, and it's aimed right at you. Her eyes are smiling in her pretty face, and they're warm and bright and clever, and you gasp because you can easily write this off as the tricks of an overly-exhausted mind, but you've been living this life too long to second-guess if this is real or not, and when her breath brushes gentle and warm over your cheeks, you don't doubt it for a second. "I'll always love you," she whispers, and then, "Goodbye," and this time when you blink and open your eyes there's nothing but gray-tinged clouds drawing back from the darkening sky.

"Sammy?" Lily asks and she's rolled across Dean's chest to check on you. "Are you okay?"

You look towards the sky and Jess is long gone and the sun is slowing drawing away from the horizon, but you see more than what you learned in school and your eyes lock for the first time on the dog chasing its tail and the kitten tangled in a ball of string, and if you try hard enough, maybe even the skinny chick with the huge rack. You glance around you, at the exposed field and the blackened copse of trees forming the borders, and you don't see anything ugly or evil and it doesn't even cross your mind. "Yeah, Lily," you answer. "I think I'm finally okay."

---

You spend the next week hanging out in Ohio, and even after the poltergeist is long gone you take the time to just live your lives before moving onto the next hunt. It's a new experience for you, all of you, and Dean sometimes seems like he's on the verge of crawling out of his skin from lack of things to kill, but then Lily will lay her hand over his or curl up against his chest while watching a bad movie on pay-per-view, and he settles into himself like there's no place else he'd rather be, because there isn't. It should bother you, but it doesn't, because you know that if your brother can learn to live his life, someday you can too.

Lily calls her mother every Sunday at six and your father calls every Sunday at seven, and Lily tracks the demon her way and your father tracks it his way and they get on the line and warily compare notes while you and Dean try to keep silent in the background. She still doesn't like him and he doesn't like her, but they've learned to work together as a reluctant team and you consider it a step in the right direction, that maybe one day, sometime in the distant future, you turn into a real, working family.

---

The wedding is another story altogether. The morning after the engagement Lily woke you up at 7:00 am and demanded your cellphone because she'd run through the available minutes on hers, and Dean's, and had more people to call and tell about the boy turning her into an honest woman. You'd found Dean working out a non-existent dent in the rear fender and ignoring the woman going all bridezilla in the motel room. You'd laughed, and only laughed harder even when his elbow caught you clear in the stomach, and he warned you not to make it worse, even as he couldn't hide the smile creeping across his horrified face.

"You can't lie to me, Dean," you'd said. "You love this."

"I love her," he'd responded and it was the first time you'd heard him say the words out loud. "And if this is what makes her happy – " he'd covered his ears and winced at the squealing coming from behind the closed door of the motel room. "It's worth it, man," he'd said and from the pure, burning look in his eyes you'd believed him.

---

It's your last morning in Ohio because you're all tired of the food and the crappy motel room and the leaves are starting to turn a little brown around the edges and the previous night Lily had declared that it was time to move on. You're sitting around the breakfast table at a greasy spoon diner on Main Street, and Lily is pouring over the Bloomingdale's catalogue while Dean looks pained beside her. Her coffee is cold and sugar-free but she manages to pull herself away from the glossy pages long enough to nudge Dean and encourage him to take a look. "Which one is prettier?" she asks and points to a green china pattern, and then a blue. He kind of haphazardly points to neither and turns back to his own coffee, but she won't let up. "Deeeeeaaaan," she whines. "Come on, help me out."

He buries his head in his hands and groans. "I thought you were cool, Lil."

She nudges him again. "I am cool, but I'm also a girl, so help me choose." When he doesn't immediately pick up his head, she tries another tactic. "You're gonna be eating off this stuff for the rest of your life, Dean," she says. "I want your input too."

A year ago, he would have made some pathetic excuse and bolted like he had a zombie on his heels, but he lifts his head and his smile is full of wonder and he has that same pure, burning look in his eyes as he kisses the bare ring finger on her left hand. "Okay, baby, which one do you like more?"

You have little interest in china patterns or crystal etchings, so you pick up today's The New York Times and flip through it absently while they drone on beside you. You're happy for them, you really are, but sometimes you get tired of all the wedding stuff and their perfect happily ever after, and you feel the jealous burning deep in your gut. It doesn't worry you anymore, because you know it's perfectly normal, practically expected given the life you've lived, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.

There's nothing worth noting on the front page or the local and international news, and you're thumbing through the arts section when a photo catches your eye. The features aren't as familiar and you struggle to remember what her hair feels like running through your fingers, but your recognize the dark eyes staring back at you, and they're warm and bright and clever in the girl's pretty face. "Oh, wow," you whisper and Lily and Dean tear themselves away from one another long enough to see what's up.

"Sam?" Lily asks. "What did you find?"

Dean's eyes are overly bright because he's ready to head back out on the road and shoot something dead, and you hate to disappoint him but it's not that kind of thing. "It's Sarah," you explain. "The paper is profiling up and coming art dealers in the New York area, and she got a mention." You push the paper across the table so Dean can see it. "A photo too. She must be doing really well." You haven't seen her in nearly six months and only spent a few days in her company, you feel oddly proud of her accomplishments. The photo doesn't do her justice, but she still looks beautiful, and for a second, just half a second, you can remember ever detail of the moment you took her in your arms and kissed her like your life depended on it. Your skin suddenly feels very warm.

Lily is watching you closely, and your cheeks feel more heated under her intense stare. "Who's Sarah?" she asks and Dean laughs.

"Sam's girlfriend," he says and you kick him under the table. He winces, but the smug smile never leaves his face.

Lily's eyes flick from Dean to you. "Really?" she says and a wicked gleam appears in her eyes.

"No," you protest. "No. She's not my girlfriend, not even close. We went out once and then Dean and I left town. End of story." They're both looking at you knowingly and you know your cheeks are turning bright red while their smiles only widen.

"Awww, Sammy, you're blushing," Lily laughs and it takes everything in you not to duck your head or bury your face between your hands. You try to remember that first night with Jess and the warmth that crept up your cheeks every time her foot grazed yours, and the heat that spread through your entire body when she slipped her hand into yours and you never wanted to let go. It's been months since you kissed Sarah, but when you try hard enough, you can still feel the heat of her pressed up against you when you kissed her.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, the most innocent of expressions pasted on his face. "We don't have any plans, Sam. We could just keep going East. New York, upstate." He flashes a teasing grin. "We could stop by and see Sarah again. She's a cook chick, man. You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

You shake your head. "No. Not yet, not…"

"Not ever?" Lily interjects and her eyes are warm and gentle and totally betray the smirk curving her lips. She turns the paper to study Sarah's picture. "Baby steps, okay? We'll just go way hi."

You stare at her incredulously. "We just happened to swing through upstate New York for no good reason? Sarah's smart – she'll see right through it." Lily's smile deepens and she keeps looking at you like she can see right through you. "What? What?" you demand, but she shakes her head and closes the paper, and holds up her left hand.

"I need a ring, and she's your friend." She places special emphasis on the last word, and you shake your head and lean back in your chair to get away from them. "We're going diamond hunting!" she exclaims and Dean groans again and you plot all the ways you can get out of this, but Lily has that look on her face that says she means business and you realize there's no turning back.

You tell them that you'll wait in the car while Dean pays, and you curl up in the backseat with Sarah's photo. She looks the same, but there's something different about her, something about her eyes, and you study the photo, try to unlock her secrets. It's only when Dean and Lily spill into the front seat in a blast of Zeppelin that you note the pure, burning brightness in their eyes and the pieces fall into place, because the photo is in black and white and it's blurry but there's no avoiding the lonely emptiness in Sarah's eyes. You know the look too well, because when you look in the mirror every morning, it's staring back at you in greeting.

---

The ride to New Paltz is uneventful, and you watch moonlight shimmer against the trees and ignore Lily making wedding plans and pestering your brother in the frontseat. You would feel sorry for him, because you've driven through two states listening to her prattle on about seating arrangements and napkin colors and you know it's torture for him, but you're too annoyed about this trip to really care. You don't want to see Sarah, you don't want to talk to Sarah, and you don't want to face Sarah…except you totally do, even if you won't admit it, even to yourself.

"So, maybe you're not cursed. Maybe…maybe you'll come back to see me."

You'd promised to come back, and six months later you're fighting tooth and nail to stay away because when you think of Sarah all you see is that little girl and her sunken eyes looming over her, razor in hand and bloodlust on her mind. Sarah might have died because of you and Lily almost died because of you and Jess did die because of you and you won't go through it again. You look at the photo in your lap and tell yourself that it doesn't matter that you recognize the open yearning in Sarah's eyes.

"I don't mean to be forward, but a girl can wait here forever. Is there something here between us, or am I delusional?"

You're not ready. You're not, you're really not, and it doesn't matter that when you close your eyes at night you no longer see Lily bleeding and Jess doesn't call to you and all you see are Dean and Lily melding into one and all you hear are the even notes of your family's breathing. It doesn't matter because there's a chance, there's always a chance, it will happen again.

The car swerves angrily and pulls you out of your reverie, and the road has been brutal and harsh to the battered tires of the Impala. Dean pulls over and all three of you jump out to inspect the damage, and you've blown a tire but are otherwise okay. Per usual, you're in the middle of nowhere and looking up you can see every star in the sky. It's nothing new, and it's nothing special, but it doesn't make it any less beautiful. Dean opens the trunk and pulls out the spare tire, and Lily props herself on the hood to take in the sky.

"It's a beautiful night," she says and you nod, sit down beside her when Dean refuses your help. After the Lily's wedding assault for the last few hours, you think he needs a few minutes to himself.

"Yeah, it is."

You don't have more to say so you clamp your mouth shut, and you know she has a million things to say, but for once she doesn't let a single one of them slip. Instead she sprawls out next to you on the hood and crosses her forearms behind her head, and the movement draws her jacket and sweater up her stomach, revealing an inch or so of skin. Her scar just peaks over the low-riding waist of her jeans, and it's still as glaring and ugly as the day she made your father acknowledge her sacrifice. You can't take your eyes off it, the way it slices through the otherwise smooth expanse of her skin and the way the edges pucker and wrinkle to keep the two halves of her together. She must feel your eyes on her because she yanks her jeans even lower and you can see every ugly inch of the scar against her white skin. "They put me back together," she says softly and runs a nervous hand over the scar, and the other slips over your chest to rest over your heart. "I'm not whole, Sammy, and maybe I never will be, but that doesn't mean I get to stop living my life." Her palm flattens and you can feel your heart beating rapidly against it.

"We all have our scars to bear, but that doesn't mean they get to control us. They certainly don't get to punish us." Your heartbeat slows down as her words sink in, and when she pulls her hand away you can breathe better. "Sammy, you need to live your life."

The stars explode overhead and a meteor shower rains down around you. "Wow," you whisper and Lily pulls her hand away to push her hair out of her eyes so she can see better.

"Wow," she echoes. "Sammy, this is why we're here."

You don't understand. "A meteor shower?"

"Look how beautiful this is, Sam," she says and gestures to the stars spinning madly around you. "Life isn't always easy, but that doesn't mean it doesn't go on. You don't have to marry this girl, Sam, but you have to try."

You know she's right, because she's Lily, and she's always right, so you settle down next to her to watch the stars, and you could easily write it off as a mirage or a trick of fate, but you've been living this life too long to second-guess if this is real or not, and when the stars align and you see Jess smiling down at you, you know you're not imagining it. Jess would want you to be happy, she'd want you to live, even if it means a life without her.

Dean comes over and settles down beside Lily and for a brief moment you don't think the Impala will take all your weight, but then the car settles and you lay side by side in easy silence. Lily's scar is still visible in the moonlight, and Dean rests one hand on her stomach, caressing the raised line of flesh, and his fingers tremble a bit when they make contact, but they don't let go. Your entire life he's been your big brother and you've wanted nothing more than to be like him, and if he can do this you can too. "I'm ready," you say softly, and then louder. "I'm ready."

Lily leans over to kiss your cheek and her breath is warm and comforting against your skin. "You always were. You just had to admit it."

You jump off the hood and offer to drive the rest of the way, and Dean eyes you warily because he hates anyone touching his baby, but Lily comes to your defense and points out how many hours he's logged behind the wheel and insists he sleep them off in the backseat while she keeps you company up front. He can't fight her, he can never fight her, so he obediently spreads out in back and despite his protests, is out like a light before you're back on the road. She doesn't say anything for a long while, just fiddles with the radio in pursuit of the perfect song. "Sammy," she finally asks. "Why did you insist on driving?"

"Isn't it obvious?" you ask and her hand pauses on the dial, and you turn the car onto the road leading to New Paltz. "I'm living my life."

Her smile is the only reassurance you need. You're doing the right thing – you're getting on with your life.

---

Not much has changed in New Paltz since the last time you paid it a visit, and the Blake auction house looks the same as you left it five months earlier, and you wonder if the girl inside it is the same too. You park the car out front and tell Dean and Lily to go on ahead, because you're not sure how to play this, because you have no idea what to say to Sarah or what to tell Sarah or how to explain all that's happened in your life since you last saw her.

Lily doesn't see it that way and insists on waiting for you, not-so-patiently tapping her toes against the ground while Dean looks bored next to her. "Any time now, Sammy," she says and Dean rolls his eyes. When you don't get out of the car, she tries again. "Remember, baby steps. Just go say hello."

You're tempted to ask her to go with you, but you don't because you know this is something you have to do on your own. You open the door and step out into the sunlight, and Lily throws her arms around your neck. "Good luck," she says and grabs Dean's hand. "Come on, baby. Let's get me a diamond!" Dean drags his feet a little but goes along dutifully, and you follow a few feet behind them.

The auction house is just as you remember, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding when your eyes don't lock on any creepy family portraits, and it's a relief that for once there are no ghosts to vanquish and no evil to hunt, and you can be a normal person living his life.

Lily's hair stands out in the otherwise sedate room and Sarah spots Dean immediately, hurrying over to say hello. The picture in the paper really didn't do her justice, because she's more beautiful in person. She looks confident in the thinly spiked heel of her shoes, and there's a determined set to her shoulders that reminds you of Lily the afternoon you and Dean spilled into her classroom and changed your lives. You half expect her to pull a knife case out of the waistband of her skirt and sink one into the elegant silk paper lining the walls. Instead, she gives Lily a warm smile and shakes her hand, and her face lights up when they tell her about the engagement, and she glances up for a second and your eyes meet over Lily's shoulder. The look in her eyes changes, and they're still gentle and calm, but they darken a little as they lock on you. "Excuse me," you hear her tell Dean and Lily, who both look like cats that got the canary, and she points them in the direction of the jewelry cases as she makes her way to you.

"Sam!" she exclaims and throws her arms around your neck, and the solid weight of her presses warm and alive against your chest. You hold her tight, arms locking around the small of her back and as you pull her tighter you can feel your hearts beating together in a steady rhythm. She looks a little nervous as she pulls back to examine your face, and her fingers run through your hair. "Your hair's gotten long," she says and you laugh because of the easy intimacy of it.

"We've been busy," you say as means of explanation and she doesn't press just yet.

"Dean says he's getting married." It's her turn to laugh. "Who would have though it?"

"Lily," you start and pause so your words do her justice. "Lily is the best thing to ever happen to him. To us," you clarify and Sarah nods.

"She seems nice, and she keeps Dean in line so there must be something special about her." She pauses for a second, and that nervous look slips back into her eyes. "Where have you been?" she asks and her dark eyes are warm and bright and clever but completely her own. You hesitate, because you're not sure how to explain, and she ducks her head and smiles tightly. "Let me guess, another long story for another time?" Her smile turns into a grimace. "All this time apart and we're back to square one."

It would be easy, so incredibly easy, to turn on your heel and walk away and leave her behind where she'd be safe and you'd have nothing to fear, but you've come too far to take the easy way out. "No," you whisper and she looks at you curiously, because this clearly wasn't the answer she expected. "I want to tell you everything."

Her smile is slow and easy and her lips are soft and warm when she cradles your head between her hands and presses her mouth against yours. You forget that you're in the middle of a crowded auction house and her father could turn the corner at any minute and lose it completely when he sees you've swept his daughter off her feet again, and just lose yourself in the moment. When she pulls away you're left wishing she would stay, and she rests her forehead against yours. "I'm so glad you came back," she whispers. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

Jess swims in front of your eyes, wearing a skimpy Snoopy t-shirt and teeny, tiny shorts, and she's smiling and laughing and waving goodbye. You'll love her forever, but you're ready to move on. "I just needed some time," you explain and you don't now where this is going or how it's going to end, but you're ready for the journey.

You pull her close and breathe her in and you smile because you have all the time in the world.

---

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