Sam didn’t expect to see you again. Not like this, not when everything’s so broken. But there you are, standing in Bobby’s kitchen, just like the old days. You’re older, sure, but it’s like he’s staring at that girl he used to follow around like a shadow. His childhood crush, the one who made his stomach do that awkward flip every time you smiled at him.

Bobby’s talking to Dean, making some joke about the Impala needing more work than usual, but Sam’s not listening. All he can focus on is you. The way you’re leaning against the counter, laughing at something Dean just said, the way your hair falls over your shoulders, messy but still somehow perfect. He realize he’s been staring for way too long when you look over at him.

“Sam?” You say his name like it’s no big deal, but to him, it feels like a weight shifting. It’s like a reminder of something he’d tried to bury: how much he liked you back then, and how much he might still like you.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers, feeling stupid as hell. The last time he saw you was… what? When you were barely a teenager? The whole world feels like it’s changed since then, but standing in front of you, he’s suddenly that dumb kid again. The one who followed Dean around, trying to impress you, trying to figure out how to talk to someone like you.

He’s buried so many things since Jess died, things he never thought would resurface, feelings he thought he’d outgrown. But there they are, all tangled up in his chest, because you’re here.

You grin, eyes soft and familiar. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” he manages to croak, but he can’t think of anything else to say. His mind’s a mess of old memories, like trying to dig through a chest he’s locked up for too long.

“Dude,” Dean says, elbowing Sam in the ribs, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something to her?” His heart skips a beat. He shoots him a glare, but Dean’s smirk is too damn knowing. Of course he’d tease him.

“Hey…” Sam says, with an awkward smile.