Chapter Text
Sam is flung across the room, back slamming into the wall. The painting on the wall falls and crashes beside him, glass shattering across the ground. Shouting is heard somewhere in the room, loud as he hears the sound of a gun cocking back. A shotgun shell rolling into view. Looking up he’s met with two men. One had short hair, a jean jacket and a gun in his hand. He’s screaming something that Sam couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears.
The other man looked like he should be buried six feet under. There’s rope marks around his neck, skin pale and withering.
“Sam get up!” The short haired man yells, pointing the shotgun at the shorter, dead looking man. Sam scrambles to his feet as he brandishes his own gun. Where did he get a gun of his own? He didn’t even own a gun license.
He doesn’t have much time to think about it as the assailant - monster, his mind supplies - raises its hand again. The man beside him shoots forward but the monster vanishes, the rounds hitting the back wall. The monster reappears and Sam levels his own shotgun at it, pressing down on the trigger.
The monster flicks its wrist and a second later, the barrel is pointed at the man beside him. Sam can’t do anything as the gun goes off right into the man’s chest, sending him flying backwards.
He falls to the ground, dead.
Sam wakes up screaming, voice ripping its way through his throat as he pushes himself up. There’s hands on him and he shoves himself away, going as far as to fall off the bed entirely. It’s only when he hits the floor does he register the voice speaking to him.
“Sam, you're okay. It was just a nightmare.” Jessica hurries out, crawling across the bed to his side.
Eyes darting around in the darkness Sam fumbles getting to his feet, chest heaving. Jessica is quick to return to her side of the bed to turn on the lamp, light flooding into the bedroom. Right, bedroom. He’s just in their shaded bedroom. “Jess?” Sam questions, taking a deep breath in. Sweat drenches his shirt and pits, hands clenched into fists. “What—“
“You were having another nightmare.” Jessica answers him before he could even finish his thoughts. Her eyes scan his, hand reaching out. He grabs it and lets himself be pulled back onto the bed.
Leaning on her shoulder Sam lets himself take a deep breath. It was just another nightmare. “Right.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry.” He apologizes, embarrassment creeping in.
“Don’t be.” Jessica says as she plants a kiss on his forehead.
Sam closes his eyes as he wraps his arms around the other, soaking in her warmth as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
Just then his alarm goes off. Sam groans as he shifts away from Jessica to turn it off. All the while keeping her close. “Was it that creepy dream about that guy again?” Jessica asks as she lets him go to climb out of bed. He lets her go as he too gets out of bed, stretching.
The nightmare was still fresh in his mind. Glass shattering, shotguns, shooting a man in the chest. A dead person trying to kill him. This was different however. It felt more real, he could practically feel himself pulling that trigger. The emotions that went with it. The most strangest part was the few seconds of grief that pulsed through his mind before he woke up.
Then there was that man. The one with the jean jacket and short hair who seems to haunt his dreams. “It was, but it felt different this time.” Sam replies as he tugs his shirt off. Grimacing as he peels it off his damp body before tossing it in the laundry bin. “I think I killed him.” He whispers.
Jessica looks over from where she’s tossing her pajamas in the laundry bin. ”Serves him right. He’s been haunting your sleep for weeks now.” She huffs as she grabs a change of clothes.
Weeks being an understatement.
Sam goes about getting ready for the day ahead. Showering, getting dressed and joining Jessica at their small kitchen counter. He walks in on her hitting the side of the coffee machine, her face screwed up in annoyance. “Is it broken again?” He asks as he walks over.
“When is it not?” She voices, sighing. “I guess we’re going in without coffee.”
“Perfect.” Sam huffs. He moves to set his hands on his girlfriend’s shoulders, squeezing softly. “I’ll see if I can fix it when we get back.” He promises, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Jessica turns so she is facing him, planting a kiss of her own. This time on his lips. “I’ll get the car started.” She states, peppering one last kiss before leaving.
Sam watches her go, a soft smile on his face. The second he hears the door close he turns to face the coffee maker with a frown. Taking the pot out of the machine and setting it to the side he turns the machine on its side. Craning his head to look at the bottom of it he pokes at the cracked sigil he had engraved into the hard plastic a week ago.
He’ll have to replace the whole thing, then. “Why won’t you work?” He asks, as if the thing would tell him exactly what he wants to know. It doesn’t reply of course. He sets it back upright, mind already thinking over what he could have done wrong.
“Sam, you coming?” Jessica calls from the front door.
“Yeah!” He yells back, turning around to head out the door.
~ SN ~
Sam parks the car and turns the key, the engine spitting to a halt. “How many classes do you have today?” Jessica asks as he unbuckles herself beside him.
“Two.” Sam answers as he clicks his own belt off. “A two hour lecture and then a three hour one.” It’s the worst day in his week, even though he doesn’t want to frame it like that. He’s lucky to be here after all, he should be grateful. The scholarship he’s riding sure helps keep his mind in the game but sometimes all he wants to do is sleep. It’s worse after he has those strange nightmares.
“I’ll meet you after.” Jessica says as she leans over, squeezing his hand. “We can go hang out with Brady and Karla before heading back to the house.” She smiles.
It’s the sort of smile that melts all the stress off of his shoulders, leaving him feeling slightly more ready for the day ahead. “Alright.” He says, squeezing her hand back. He takes his keys out of the ignition and passes them over. Jessica always gets the keys on his longest days, so she’s not bound to walk anywhere she’d want to go while he’s still at his lectures.
She takes them as they both get out of the car. Jessica locks it behind them as they start heading towards the main building. People pass them in a hurry, probably late for whatever they were studying. Sam gets a few feet from the entrance when a woman clears her throat next to him. “Excuse me?” She calls, waving the pair over.
He shares a glance with Jess before they walk over. “Yes?” He asks, looking down at the pile of papers in her hands.
The woman plucks a paper off from the top and hands it out to him. The words ‘We Listen’ in bold. “I’m part of the mental health services on campus. Due to the recent…tragedies, we want to make sure everyone knows we’re here to help.” She explains.
Sam takes the flyer, nodding. “Of course.” He says. He’s heard about the suicides on campus, it would be more weird if he hadn’t. Three months ago a guy by the name of Henry Michael jumped off of the highest building with a note in his pocket. The note was never made public due to privacy for the victim. But the act shocked everyone.
Sam never knew the guy well, but he’s seen him around with his head towards the ground. He always thought the guy was just antisocial. Then two weeks ago a woman named Molly Mackerel who’s whole existence screams ‘popular girl’ is found hanged in her own locker. He didn’t want to say the deaths were connected but…
He’s been practicing self love sigils since then to give to Jessica. And maybe even hide them in peoples lockers if he gets the chance. They haven’t worked but he can’t help but feel like he needs to do something. If someone like Molly can kill herself he doesn’t want to know who else is suffering in silence. The two back to back suicides definitely weren’t helping the mental health of the students here.
“Thank you.” Jess says sincerely. The woman gives them a smile as they continue on inside the building. Soon enough Sam is waving goodbye to Jessica as she heads to her first class of the day.
~ SN ~
“Remember to submit last week's assignment before Saturday.” Mr Randell announces as people rush to pack up and leave. “I don’t want to be emailed at eleven at night asking for an extension!” The professor shoots a couple people a pointed look. The group in question ducking out of his gaze, guilt radiating off of them.
Sam chuckles, shaking his head as he slides his laptop back into his bag. He takes his time, meaning he’s the last one in the classroom when Mr Randell practically collapses into his chair.
Looking over, Sam scrunches his eyebrows at the man. “You alright Mr Randell?” He calls, slinging his bag onto his back.
The professor looks up from his computer, eyes looking way too tired for a man his age. “I’m alright Sam, thanks for asking.” He replies, sitting up slightly. “The class is just getting a bit thinner these days.” He says, gesturing to the two empty seats in the back of the class. Molly and Henry's seats. Two people Sam didn’t even know were hurting.
Guilt wells up in him, a sickening sludge that was Sam’s mood doing a one eighty. He didn’t know them. They were only his classmates and even then, Henry was too alone for Sam to ever really get to know and Molly was too busy going to college parties to ever notice him. Didn’t make the guilt go away, not when he should have said something.
Maybe a simple hello would have saved Henry from jumping? Or a ‘how was your night?’ Could have stopped Molly from hanging herself. “Can't change the past, Mr Randell.” Sam says, frowning. “‘We can only change things for the future and make sure there is justice for those who deserve it.’ That’s what you said to me on my first day here.”
Mr Randell hums, shoulders slumping as he looks at his computer screen. “You're a good kid, Sam Campbell. A good kid.” He says.
Sam nods as he turns and exits the classroom. Closing the door behind himself he starts to head towards the front door of the building. People were gathered around in groups, arms slinging over their friends shoulders. He exits the building and turns to head to where he knows Jessica likes to park the car and wait for him. He turns the corner.
Only to get knocked into and fall flat on his ass. His hands are concrete as he tries to catch himself, palms getting scraped up. “Sorry man.” A familiar voice says from over top of him.
A hand is offered in front of him and Sam accepts it, being pulled back up onto his feet. He dusts his palms on his jeans as he looks to who knocked him over. “It’s fine—“ Sam cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares into the face of a man he’s dreamt about countless times. The man that he killed in his nightmare that morning. Short hair, black leather jacket, jeans with the face of a man only a little older than him.
This couldn’t be happening. He has to be dreaming. This guy wasn’t supposed to be real! How could he be here!? “—hello? Did I knock your brains out or something?” The man huffs, waving his hand in front of Sam’s face.
Sam blinks rapidly, taking a step back. “Sorry it’s just—you look like someone I know.” Sam says. He pinches his inner wrist, pain shooting up his hand. Yep, definitely not dreaming.
The guy looks at him as if he’s on drugs, before shrugging. “Handsome?” He jokes. When Sam doesn’t reply the guy clears his throat. “Well, look where you're going before turning sharp corners next time.” He says as he points back to where Sam came from. “I gotta go.” With that the stranger continues on his way, disappearing into the main building of Sam’s school. Sam looks at the door, then over back to where he knows Jess is waiting for him.
Pulling out his phone Sam quickly swipe to Jessica’s contact. It rings a few times before she answers. “Hey Sam—“
“He’s here.” Sam rushes out as he holds the phone to his ear.
“Who?” Jess is quick to ask, voice wavering slightly.
“The guy from my nightmare last night.” Sam answers, shifting so his body was facing the entrance to the building. “I knocked into him—Jess, it’s him. I know it is.” He says. His legs itch to follow but he stays rooted in place. Nerves or disbelief keep him in place, he doesn’t know.
Jessica takes a sharp breath in. “Are you sure?” She asks. He hums. He’s one hundred percent sure that he’s the guy. He even sounds the same. Sam could imagine the guy right beside him, yelling about something he couldn’t remember. “What do you want to do?” She says after a beat. No judgment, just concern.
She already knows what he wants to do. “I’m going to follow him.” He replies, feet finally moving.
“Be careful. Call me if something happens and…don’t try to look like a stalker. I don’t think he’ll understand this whole thing like I do.” She warns.
“Of course. Meet you back at the house?” He says, pushing open the door. He has to quickly move out of sight, the guy still in the main room. He’s talking to someone, who’s gesturing down one of the hallways.
“Okay.” Jess sighs. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” Sam replies, clicking his phone off. He’s being a complete idiot but honestly? Something is stopping him from caring. There’s a mystery here that he’s not willing to ignore.
After the guy disappears down the hallway enough for Sam to follow, he takes off. Quietly as he can, he inches down the hallways. Making sure the man is always at the other corner before he continues. They get to a familiar hallway and Sam pauses before turning the corner. He peaks around the wall, eyes catching Mr Randell welcoming the guy into the classroom.
Raising a brow Sam waits for the door to close before inching his way over. The door didn’t have a window so he doesn’t try to hide from whatever is going on on the inside. “Okay Sam, you're now officially a creep.” He huffs, pressing his ear to the door. It’s hard to make out anything useful.
That is until he hears the man say Henry and Molly’s names. Narrowing his eyes Sam takes out his phone and goes to the camera app. He clicks it on and shoves the microphone under the door an inch. He kneels there for a while, recording the conversation. Then there’s shuffling, the sounds of footsteps getting closer.
Sam grabs his phone back from the door and runs down the hall, turning every corner he can until he finds himself in one of the bathrooms. Breathing heavily Sam glances down at his phone and clicks the recording off. He shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a massive breach of trust. All because of a dream.
A dream where Sam ends up killing a guy.
He presses start on the saved recording, turning his volume up. “—do you want to know about them?” Mr Randell’s voice comes in. He sounds startled, caught off guard. Sam understands the feeling.
“Just if they were acting weird before they died. Erratic behavior, seeing things that weren’t there?” The man asks.
“They acted like they usually did. No one could have seen this coming. Molly was always so lively and Henry had so many ambitions. I expected more from their futures.” Mr Randell says.
“You knew them well?” The guy questions. He sounds a bit accusatory.
“They were my students. I know everyone as much as I can.” Mr Randell replies, sounding a bit more heated. “What is this anyways? Why do you care about Henry and Molly?”
“I’m an old friend. Just…trying to understand it all.” The guy replies quickly.
There’s a sigh, then some shuffling. “Thank you for your concern, Dean, I’m sure they would have been grateful. But there’s nothing else to understand. It was simply a tragedy.” Mr Randell ends off. The man says his goodbyes and proceeds to send Dean out. It’s then that the phone jerks as Sam takes off down the hall.
“…Dean.” He says, the word not so awkward as it should be on his tongue. It sounds familiar. Maybe he’s said it in his dreams and forgotten about it? Sam sighs, running his hands through his hair.
Leaving the bathroom Sam heads back to the entrance of the building. He heads to go to the bus stop, since Jess is probably long gone with the car by now. Only to stop at the sight of the guy, Dean, getting into a black Impala. It’s old but clearly well taken care of. Sam ducks out of view as Dean drives off out of the parking lot, then turns down a road that only leads to one place.
The frat house right outside of campus. “I should really give up on this.” Sam says to himself as he hurries to the bus stop. Not the one going home, but the one that follows Dean off of campus.
Because for some reason, he wasn’t going to give up on this.