#press pause

Jack had lost his mother before knowing what the word mother even means, had been brought to this world without a blueprint, only with an immense weight in his hands that he had no idea how to handle. Powers that no one could ever teach him how to control because no one had ever had them before. But also, he was given a choice. One of grave importance that would determine the world's fate.

Dean had just lost his best friend, his mother, his game plan. And after losing everything, he had also lost his faith and gone rogue, desperate to have a purpose. Whether that was a reasonable one or not. Currently, his target was to figure out how in hell’s name he could kill this monster, in his eyes, that was apparently a threat to humanity. Of course forgetting that that’s what they called his younger brother once too.

And then the younger Winchester came in the picture. Sam. Sam was left in the bottom, losing everything but his responsibilities, now,  unintentionally, becoming the father figure of a boy he had not asked for, left trying to pick his older brother’s pieces, left trying to pick up his own pieces. And yet somehow he still kept his optimism and absolute, pure, brightly burning hope somewhat intact.

After all that, you could not say a word. Your weight and problems were nothing in comparison.

You sat cross-legged on the top of the hill, watching the clouds come and go, the sun move and the chilly breeze skate down your skin. Your old packet of cigarettes lay limply in the gap between your legs, fingers toying with the silver Zippo your father had once gifted you. It was by no means a habit of yours –smoking-, but when the times got rough, when the world started falling apart, it was your coping mechanism.

Smoke puffed from your lips and danced in the fading orange sunlight like a skillful dancer, a well-practiced choreograph. Your eyes followed it as it disappeared in the mist of fall that would surely bring you a cold if you didn’t wear a hoodie soon.

“You know, that’s not good for you” his voice was light with heavy, half-hearted teasing and your heart broke just listening to him trying. You didn’t move when he spoke, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, only patted the patch of grass to your right lightly. You heard him shuffle about before heavy fabric fell on your shoulders and his scent attacked you faster than the nicotine numbed your nerves, seeing as they yet again jumped and fluttered at his presence. Just like every other time. Just like the first time.

You rested under the heaviness as Sam’s wide and mile-long form dumped itself on the ground beside you. You realized he had given you his orange jacket, the one that was enforced with dark brown leather inside. The one that smelt of burnt chances, disappointment, loss and tear-jerking goodbyes. The one he had been wearing the day he said I’m sorry, thank you and goodbye to the people he loved-no, loves. Even if he didn’t believe they’d be gone forever. Even if he hoped he could say I’m sorry and thank you in front of them again, at least one more time. Even though he knew better.

You offered him the pack without looking at him, eyes still locked with the scenery in front of you. He looked at you, at your hand, at you again and after a second of hesitation and a short internal debate, he slipped his long fingers in the packet and pulled out a cigarette. You didn’t offer a lighter, knowing he probably won’t light it anyways.

The stress reliever dangled from your lips as you slipped your arms through the long sleeves that went well past your fingers and instantly created a barrier that shielded you from the cold bite of the breeze. You leaned your head against his shoulder and he kissed your hairline, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling the cigarette up to his mouth. You didn’t react outwardly, even though the action surprised you. Instead, you offered him the Zippo. He leaned towards the fire, flashbacks of the past three days coming back in front of his irises, and lit it up with clenching eyelids, puffing out some smoke.

“We’ve been fucked over again, haven’t we.” You stated, instead of asking. Normally he would huff out a smile but he didn’t react. Not this time. Instead, he nodded with a sad hum and flexed his fingers around yours.

“Yes. Yes, we have.”

The reality of the statement hung heavily in the air like dead weight.

Comforting silence fell over the both of you for what could possibly be hours. You watched the sun set and the wind pick up as leaves fell all around you.

Suddenly the breeze simply stopped. Just froze, leaves pausing their fall mid-air. The grass stopped moving and stayed in a curved line that had been following the wind, the sun didn’t set, the clouds just stood still. The smoke you had just let out of your lungs froze in front of your face.

It was like someone pressed pause to the world.

“Sam.” He squeezed your hand in acknowledgment and you turned to him. His eyes were frantically moving, scanning his environment and attempting to understand what was happening. “Are you seeing this?”

“What the hell,” he muttered his response almost inaudibly. He exhaled lightly, eyebrows knitting up on his forehead. You gulped, instantly thinking of the worst possible explanations and consequences. In sync, Sam’s eyebrows and yours shot up in realization.

“Jack” you stated simply and your boyfriend nodded, lips pursing in a tight line briefly as he swallowed dryly.

“Fuck”

This seemed really, really bad for the first few seconds, until you slackened your shoulders and dropped your cigarette.

“Sammy?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips. He tilted his head in confusion like a puppy at your sudden mood swing. Your eyes traveled through every single thing around you and stood, the corners of your mouth curving up in wonder. Sam followed your movement, still confused at why you were being so odd all of a sudden. You stepped closer to him and placed your hands on his chest lightly. His huge paws instinctively went to your waist.

“Look,” You breathed out a small laugh. The youngest Winchester, still clueless as to your sudden joy, followed your eyes. His face relaxed and his expression absolutely slackened. His cigarette hung immobile in his mouth. A small smile graced his face.

“It’s…” his eyes didn’t stop moving for one second, hands fitting more comfortably against your body. “It’s beautiful”

And it was. It was so fucking beautiful.

It felt like a three-dimensional picture. Everything was frozen mid-movement. Leaves were hovering, the trees were slightly bent, the surreally colored clouds stood above the two of you like cotton candy. It gave you time to truly observe the colors of the sunset. It gave you a moment to breathe easier, a moment of true peace. A moment where the world didn’t necessarily need you. A moment where nothing bad was happening anywhere at all.

You looked up at Sam. His eyes skimmed every surface, relishing the calmness and peace of a still moment. The cigarette was still hanging limply from his mouth. You reached for it, gently prying it from his lips and throwing it under your boot, putting it out and making a mental note to pick it back up when you leave.

Sam’s eyes fell on you at the action. You smiled softly, placing one of your hands against his cheek tenderly. He leaned into it, eyes closing for a second. When they opened, you offered a small smile and leaned up to kiss him gently. Your lips moved at a snail’s pace finding no reason to rush this, extending the moment as long as humanly possible. He tasted of cigarette smoke and you supposed you did too but you didn’t mind. One of Sam’s hands moved and was lightly placed against your cheek while his other pressed you closer to him by your lower back.

Suddenly, like a slap in the face, the breeze started back up again. The hovering leaves fell slowly and the sun began, once again, setting.

You gasped, not expecting it, and instantly Sam’s hands held you a little tighter. And then you started giggling, unsure of why. You grinned against his lips, small giggles falling out of your mouth and he smiled too because he loved seeing you happy.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in exaggerated motions and nuzzled your nose with his, the unexplainable feeling of happiness surging through you. Sam chased your lips and you pulled back a little, teasing him. You repeated the same dance for a couple long seconds until he growled and held your head still with his hand, caging your bottom lip between both of his with fervor.

When both of you pulled back, pleasantly gasping for breath, you moved your arms from around his neck to his waist and hugged him tightly, burying your nose in his jacket. He moved his arms to hug you appropriately, fitting his chin over your head comfortably. Your smile dropped as you exhaled in his clothes, the harsh reality coming to slap you in the face.

“We should go back” the mere idea of the action filled you with dread. Sam hummed, reluctantly pulling back and entangling his fingers with yours. Kissing your forehead, he squared his shoulders and stored this memory in a safe vault in his mind as you bent to pick up the blunt you had thrown down. He shook his head, squared his shoulders and exhaled, feeling his responsibilities crashing on him again, knowing your moment was over, knowing the world needed the both of you, once again.

Forevers <3: