Sammy, Pie or Impala: A Supernatural Fanfic

Layers of Illusion

"You can run with a lie, but you can't hide from the truth. It will eventually catch you!"
~Unknown

SAM

Sam fixed his tie in the polished mirror off to the side from his mahogany desk. Never had he thought he'd get out of the office cubicle, never mind be in transition to taking over a multi-million law firm. Here he was, in this elaborate office, with its stacked bookshelf and Apple laptop resting on the desk and the name Winchester marking his territory on the heavy oak door. Not bad for a twenty two year old college freshman.
He rose from his chair and walked over to the window. This was no ordinary window, he could see the wide stretch of Los Angeles city spread across like paint splattering a clear canvas. It was a breath taking sight surely, with its bustling streets, crystal skyscrapers and citizens always running to and fro, it was a definite change from quiet Kansas.
Thinking of home caused a painful stab of both remorse and anger.

For so long he had lived with his brother Dean and Bobby. He had been told that he lived with his father for two years until he was tragically killed by the yellow - eyed demon who set fire to his mother when Sam was only an infant.
He had often thought about what his parents may have been like, had wondered countless times if his life would of turned out different if they were to live, and maybe it would of been better, he surely would of had a happier childhood.

There was a time when Sam was inseparable from his brother, he had confided in him as a friend and trusted him wholeheartedly. They had grown up together, exchanged secrets and if one were to get in trouble, the other would have their back in any situation. But something changed when Sam turned eight, something that would bother him for years until he finally plucked up the courage to leave behind the hunting life. And Dean.

Sam removed himself from pondering on his troubles; this was why he moved, for a fresh start and to start living for himself. He cracked his knuckles and sat down at his desk. The radio he got from a cheap secondhand shop around the corner crackled and a familiar song vibrated from the speakers. A rueful smile danced on his lips as he listened attentively to the well known lyrics his brain so fondly recalled. A soft hum seemed to find itself coming from his mouth as he typed on his computer.

"Carry on my wayward son,
There'll be peace when you are done,
Lay your weary head to rest,
Don't you cry no more."

And with that, bittersweet memories flooded into his mind, his computer screen blurred and his sharp memory became vivid with memories of his days hunting with Bobby and Dean, how he felt excluded and fell behind in hunting, how his relationship with Dean thinned and deterred over time until it finally crumbled into broken fragments of a mere illusion.

A loud knock on the door sent Sam back to reality and he straightened up in his chair. "Come in," he spoke with the most professional tone he could muster in the moment.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm sorry to interrupt you at this busy time," apologised Hilda, the receptionist. She half stepped into the room and leaned her head to the right. "Your brother, Dean Winchester wishes to speak to you, he says its urgent family business."

Sam bit his lip and let out a small sigh. "Let him in Hilda," he muttered. Hilda nodded towards the ajar door and a set of heavy feet prodded towards the door. "Damn it Dean, you still walk like you're ice skating," thought Sam. Clearly some things never change.Hilda stepped out of the room and thoroughly shut the door, leaving only Sam and his brother staring off one another.
A tall man with sandy brown hair and fierce emerald eyes the colour of spring meadows looked Sam straight in the eyes, a smirk playing around his mischievous lips.
"Well, well, well," smiled Dean, "it's been a long time Sammy."
Sam returned his brother's steely gaze

" It sure has Dean, now please tell me why you come all this way to see me?"

Dean swung around one of the high backed chairs towards himself and purposely set himself onto it backwards.

" Do you have some pie? You better sit tight, Sammy boy, because this is one hell of a story you'll want to hear."