sam don't want to believe it. ‎ ‎he cannot hope here. ‎ ‎but as an unknown number rang up his phone then came a familiar voice at the other end of the line—he knew he must have lost it. probably a bad prank, some hoax—but he called again, just to make sure and prove his point, only to hear a light scolding as to why he did that, why hang-up, followed by confusion—worry, fear. but sam. his mind had blanked out and like a rat lured by a hymn, he stood up, grabbed the keys, disregarding dean and everyone and everything and drive. ‎ ‎if wishes could come true, would you take it? would you believe that it could work? if it does, won't there be some setbacks and consequences of bringing things we knew we don't deserve and long already gone? ‎ ‎sam cares, but not now. his mom is back, the darkness brought her back— if that's possible, then why can't this, right? right? ‎ ‎he kept huffing and puffing, but nothing was working. he didn't even stop as soon as he stepped out of the car and spotted you by the cemetery's gate, coming right towards you with a look on his face—like his life was flashing right before his eyes, trying so damn hard not to burst out with his tears—more so the moment his body crashed against yours, his arms wrapped around your body. ‎ ‎and he felt you. warm and complete. soft and alive. unburnt. sam's breath quivered followed by a shaky sigh that came out as a sob of utter relief. "you're... home."