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percywinchester27 · 5 years ago

Text

A lot like ‘Us’

Word count: 3.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

Warnings: None for this chapter

A/N: I am so excited to share this story. I am really loving it <3 This is also written for @sdavid09 ‘s Tale Teller’s 2020 Bingo Challenge.

Beta: My amazing girls @deanssweetheart23 and @anathewierdo Thank you!! I love you both <3

Finally the last of the boxes had been pushed up the five stories of stairs and into your living room. The guy from the movers quickly accepted the payment and disappeared before you could even utter “thanks.” You didn’t blame him. Anyone would be over eager to leave after hauling boxes up the stairs given that the lift randomly stopped working.

You were just relieved that none of his men got stuck inside. That would have been awful. He complained about the sort of shitshows the rental buildings in the locality were, but all things considered, he had been pretty nice about the untimely disaster.

You closed the door behind and slid to the floor, glad that you didn’t have to smile for strangers anymore.

The lift might have been a shitshow, but the flat you were renting was really nice. It had two bedrooms, a living room and a small kitchenette. The flat had only one bathroom, but the grand balcony on the other side of the living room all but made up for it. You got off the floor and made your way towards the balcony. It overlooked a small meadow of sorts, and the entry wall beyond it was high and covered with thick vines. Right in the middle, was a small fountain in the shape of a mermaid, carved out of what must have been once pristine white marble. The mermaid had a mysterious look on her face, like she knew your secret, and was contemplating if it would fetch a good gossip. In her hand, she held a beautifully carved flask, from which the water fell into the basin below.

It was like being in your own space, enclosed in this beautiful Caribbean meadow. That was until a voice called your attention.

“Hey!”

You looked sideways to find an Asian guy who couldn’t have been more than 20 waving at buy. You waved back awkwardly.

“So, I see you’ve met judgy Judy!”

“Who?”

He tilted his head towards the mermaid. “That’s judgy Judy.” he said, smiling. “If you happen to walk past her after 12 in the night, you are bestowed upon the judgiest of looks. And if you’re drunk…” he let out his breath in whoosh.

You laughed, then were surprised at the sound of it. You didn’t laugh this easily.

“My name’s Kevin,” the boy said. “Kevin Tran. Aren’t you the new girl renting 502? Meg?”

You shook your head. “I’m Y/N, actually. Meg won’t be here until Wednesday.”

You knew nothing about your roommate except that she loved her privacy. That was her only demand in the advert. That she was looking for someone who knew of basic hygiene and didn’t poke their nose in her business. You couldn’t argue with that.

He smiled, “So what brings you here, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Kevin put out his hands excitedly. “Wait! let me guess. You’re a pastry chef, looking to start your own little bakery in this quaint little town.”

You rolled your eyes. That was about as far as he could get from why you were here.

He caught on. “No… no… you’re an artist? Looking for inspiration?”

You pursed your lips, trying not to smile. “I’m actually starting the year at the Law school.”

Kevin whistled. “Law school, huh?” Then added, “Hey, what do I know? I’m just an engineer!”

You sized him up. He looked too young to be a professional.

He raised his hands up, “I know, I know what you’re thinking,” he said and you instantly felt guilty about judging anyone by their looks. Judgy Judy would be proud.

“You’re thinking why would I live out of the city,” he said and you breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s ‘cause San Francisco is boring. Besides, I get to work from home a lot, and it’s an hours drive anyway.”

“Seems fair,” you said. He didn’t ask you why you weren’t staying in the official campus dorms. Maybe he had already done the mental math and figured out that the Law building was less than a ten minute walk from here. Besides, most of Stanford was a student town anyway. This building was closer to the college than even the Faculty residence.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kevin said genially, “Why don’t you join us for dinner? It’s just me and my roommate Jack. We can order some pizza and pop some beers. It’ll be cool. That way you don’t have to worry about cooking in the middle of all that unpacking.”

It was starting to get chilly outside, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I’m not much a drinker.”

“That’s fine,” he said, unfazed. “We have soda, if you want.”

You hesitated, “Thanks, Kevin, really. Maybe some other time.”

You waved at his somewhat confused face and stepped inside, closing the glass doors of the balcony behind you.

If Kevin thought you were weird, he’d get used to it like everyone in your life. He would get used to not talking, stealing glances and the fact that you weren’t exactly the sort of person people wanted around in fun times. He’d learn to ignore you like everyone else.

Most of the weekend was spent trying to put your room together. There really wasn’t much to your belongings except books and some clothes, which you arranged as neatly as you could. If the blaring music on your speakers disturbed Kevin and his roommate, neither of them complained.

On Monday, you attended orientation lectures by a few alumni and the Dean. It all seemed like a dream to you. On Tuesday, they had a pre-law show you around in groups, the grand campus that was Stanford University. By the end, you were biased about the Law building being the best, maybe because you had dreamt of being here day and night for as long as you could remember. The Law school wasn’t a grand facade. It was functional and built in a pale beige sandstone which had weathered wonderfully over the years. The corridors were breezy and opened on to landscaped spill out spaces … and the building itself seemed to breathe through the tactfully placed fenestrations.

The pre-law showing your group around the campus talked and talked and talked, while you followed her dumbfounded at the expanse of it all. One day, you’d get used to this, you knew that… but that day was nowhere near close. In fact, it had barely even registered that you had done it! That you had actually been accepted into Stanford and that you were going to be a lawyer!

Stanford had twenty libraries. Twenty. The place that you absolutely fell in love with was the Cecil H. Green library. The high, vaulted ceiling made you feel like you had stepped right into the Victorian era. The rows and rows of shelves absolutely boggled your mind. You could live here and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You touched the richly colored mahogany table in the library and unwillingly, like it was the most inevitable thing in the world, you thought of him. The look in his eyes when he talked about this very place. “Y/N,” he’d say “You’re gonna fall in love with the smell of those books!”

You immediately yanked your hand from the table, as if a current had passed through your body. The girl next to you, looked over. “Everything alright?” she asked kindly.

You nodded and moved away from the piece of furniture. You couldn’t think about him now, not here. So, you took a couple of deep breaths and closed your eyes, focussing on the things around you, the long shelves, the smooth tables. And it eased some, you could feel your chest constrict a little.

Meanwhile, the guide talked on.

“Water?” The girl next to you offered as you all stepped out of the library. You needed it, but that meant talking to her, and you weren’t sure you were up for that.

“C’mon, take it,” she insisted, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You took the bottle and splashed some water on your face, then took two gulps, feeling better immediately. The water tasted funny, but in a refreshing way.

You looked at what was inside.

The girl laughed. “It’s cucumber water,” she said. “I figured we’d be doing a lot of walking today and this is a saviour.”

“Thanks,” you said, actually looking at her properly. She had a slim build, with dark brown hair and eyes. Despite knowing that they would be walking a lot, she was dressed in a black pencil skirt and a flowy baby blue blouse, with matching heels. She was carrying all that effortlessly without breaking a sweat, while you were wearing your most worn pair of comfortable jeans, a sweater and sneakers. You did notice that she looked really pretty and when she smiled, it reached her eyes.

“Better?” She asked

“Much. Thank you.”

She put her hand forward. “I’m Madison. Madison Maxwell.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook her hand.

The others had already gone ahead while she had waited for you to catch your breath and drink water. You started walking together.

“So, excited for the classes to begin?” She asked peppily and you nodded.

You figured that Madison was the sort to fill every silence with words. After a while, she was going to be really disappointed in you for your lack of responses or initiating a conversation.

As you walked, Madison told you everything that she could about herself in the span of the couple minutes it took you to reach the rest of the group. She was born and brought up in Pasadena, to a lawyer dad and a socialite mom. “I feel like my mom was born as a socialite! Her first words were probably, ‘well, hullo, Dahling!”

You laughed, and encouraged by your reaction she continued. She was a pre-grad in sociology from USC, where she was voted the most likely to charm people with her smile (seemed fair). She had two older brothers both lawyers in their Dad’s bigass firm, and they lived in this huge house overlooking a hugeass swimming pool. Her words, not yours.

The fact she was rich was pretty much in your face, from the gucci bottle filled with cucumber water to the Prada shoes, but it wasn’t because she was pushing it… she was just used to it.

“What about you?” She asked as you reached the group. “Where are you from?”

“Kansas,” you said.

“And?” She coaxed good naturedly.

“And I did my pre-law from University in Texas.”

“That’s nice. What about your parents?”

You looked down. “They died in a car crash when I was little.”

“Oh no!” Madison gasped. She looked like she was about to tear up.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, offering her a smile. “I’ve made my peace with it.” It was true. You’d had twenty odd years to adjust to it. It was a way of life now.

Madison still gave you an apologetic smile, but thankfully, for the rest of the tour she didn’t talk much. It wasn’t that Madison wasn’t charming, but everyone charming usually expected the same from you… and you weren’t. Why pitch her up for disappointment?

“So, see you tomorrow, Y/N?” She asked, tentatively.

Poor girl, you thought. “See you,” you said. “It was nice meeting you, Madison.”

“Likewise,” she said brightly.

You watched her walk over to another group of girls, all dressed fancily,who squealed when they saw Madison. You shook your head, smiling to yourself that Madison had found some kindred spirits.

It didn’t explain why she had been so nice to you all day though. If she already had friends, she didn’t have to care about you, right?

It took you a while to figure out which was your exit. Roaming around in the campus as it was dark, was anxiety inducing. Yet, a voice in the back of your head kept telling you how the Oval was at the centre of the campus, and the Law building was just to the south east. You didn’t want to hear the voice, hell you didn’t even want to think about whom the voice belonged to, but slowly and surely it guided you back to the gate closest to your flat. Once you reached it, you made a run for it, not stopping till you were inside the tall building gate and into the meadow. You ran into Kevin.

“Y/N!” He said, “I didn’t see you there.” Next to him was another boy, dirty blonde hair and a smiling face. “This is Jack. Remember, I told you about him?”

Jack took one look at you and concern rippled across his face, “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tired,” you whispered.

Before any of them could say another word, you dashed up the stairs.

“The lift is working again!” Kevin called after you, but you bolted into your room without halting. Once you were inside, you locked the door behind and you rolled into a ball on your unmade bed, finally letting the tears make their way.

You knew this was coming, you knew it the moment you set foot in this town that it would remind you of him… the way he smiled, the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous… the way you loved him. Over the years you had trained yourself to snap out of it whenever your thoughts even inched towards him. You could shut it off and just stop thinking. It had taken years and years of practice, but finally you could lock him in the darkest part of your mind and not look at it. Not feel anything for him. In return, you barely felt anything at all. About anything, about anyone.

In the long run, you preferred that bargain, though. The numbness.

And after spending so much time in it, the numbness felt homely. It cushioned you against the pain and the memories. So what if it cushioned you against feeling anything at all, too? At least this way you were functional. You could get through the day and be productive. Besides, who did you have to live for except yourself, anyway? So it was okay to just survive. To just feel enough for you to feel human. At one point even that had felt like an impossible feat.

You tried not to remember the days and nights wishing for the endless pain to end, wishing to just give up on everything, on life. At least now you didn’t feel that way. You had re-learned to aspire, to work hard. You didn’t feel hopeful anymore, but you had a goal set in mind and you were willing to work as hard as you could to fulfill it.

Most of the time, you managed to block out all unwanted noise in your head and outside, and just concentrate on surviving. It will have to suffice till one day you could actually start living.

But once in a while the box cracked, like today, and all the memories came spinning out. In the library, somehow Madison’s prattling had kept you from spiralling. Now, there was no one to help. The thoughts simply overwhelmed you and you shut your ears, rolling into a smaller ball, as flashes of light from that night flared behind your closed eyes, the rain pouring down on you and all the blood. The thing you remembered most clearly was the cold. The skin-numbing, bone chilling cold as the water soaked through you.

You woke up to the blaring alarm. It was 7:15 in the morning.

“Shit!”

You jumped out of bed and then immediately slipped, landing on the floor with the thud. You cursed again as you got to your feet and rushed into the bathroom. Not only had you overslept, but last night you hadn’t even gone through your schedule of classes and lectures. The plan had been to wake up at 6, and go through the schedule once more, which you should have had studied last night, wear the perfect first day clothes that you should have picked out last night, and reach early to the classroom which you should have already figured out before 8 in the morning.

At 8 in the morning, however, you were still trying to shimmy yourself into the only formal skirt you owned. You quickly threw on the first decent shirt that you could find and tied your hair in a ponytail, then made your way out of the apartment without breakfast. Your bag was threatening to spill out the laptop and notebook you carried as you all but ran across the street to get to the campus.

By some extreme luck, you remembered the building perfectly. With a quick look through the schedule and the help of a very offended senior, you finally made your way to the class, completely out of breath by 8:20. Even though your hair was falling out of the ponytail, you were covered in sweat and your shoes were permanently damaged, you were miraculously ten minutes early.

The classroom was huge and circular. It was stepped upwards, with desks curving around to focus downwards on the podium at centre, right underneath the big projecting screen mounted on the opposite wall. If you had entered the normal way, you would have probably entered through one of the two doors at the top of the class, but with your luck, you had obviously entered through the one door at the bottom, presumably which the faculty used. This way you had to climb up all the way to an empty spot with over a hundred people staring down at you in your hassled state.

“Smooth,” a blonde guy from the third row muttered as you began climbing.

“Y/N! Hey, Y/N,” a voice called. “Over here!”

You saw Madison waving at you from the corner seat on one of the top rows. A few people were looking at where the commotion was coming from. To avoid more of it, you hurried towards her.

“Saved you a seat!” she said, moving her books from the seat next to her, to make space.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. The three girls seated on the other side of her, gave you a curious look. The sort that is given to old cheese, wondering if it has gone stale.

“Girls,” Madison said, “This is Y/N. Y/N, these are Lacey, Meredith and Rebecca.” In your harrowed state, you only remembered that the brunette with long hair was Lacey.

“Aren’t you excited?” Madison asked, smelling like she had stepped straight out of a beautiful orchard, while you were sweating bullets.

“Mhmm,” you said. Madison went on to talk about how excited she was for this particular lecture, while you hurriedly set out your laptop, and readied your papers.

“He’s just so dreamy and hot,” Madison gushed and the other girls nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe we have him for the first lecture.”

“How are we supposed to concentrate?” One of the girls wailed.

Like that was really a problem.

“Civil Procedure,” you read from the time table, quickly going through the syllabus, not even looking at the professor’s name the girls were raving about. In your experience, the content mattered, not who was teaching it.

There was a sudden ruffling, and everyone quieted at once.

“Sorry, I’m a little late,” an apologetic voice said.

It was 8:32, you thought absentmindedly, as you looked up from the papers, that was hardly late. That voice felt like long forgotten music.

The professor was facing the board, printing “Civil Procedure.”

When he turned, the floor dropped from under your feet.

He wore a light grey suit, with a striped tie and a white button up shirt, and stood tall against the black board. His soft brown hair was long and silky, curling slightly at his collar, and even though from this far you couldn’t see the colour, his hazel eyes were warm and slightly abashed.

“My name’s Sam Winchester,” he said, the words each felt like a separate stab to your gut. “I'll be taking the Civil Procedure Module for this semester and the next. And, I’m usually never late… especially in the courtroom.”

Some laughter ran around the room. He gave it a minute acknowledging it with a smile, then opened his laptop, and a tech hurried over to set it up.

“While Paul here is helping me with the wires, let me introduce myself more fully,” he said, leaning against the table. “I did my pre-law from right here at Stanford, so I’m still your senior. You all better be respectful.” More laughter rang around. “Then, I went to Yale for law school. I’ve practiced in New York for two years before moving to California, and practicing in LA for a few more. I currently work as the Senior Associate at Acton Griswold in San Francisco. You guys heard of it?”

“Is he kidding?” Lacey whispered. “Who hasn’t heard of Acton Griswold?”

“You’re even paying attention to what he’s saying?,” said the girl next to Lacey. “I can’t get over the way he looks. What is he? 30? Hot damn!”

“I have to impress him,” Madison muttered, though her voice had become softer. “I need that internship at Acton Griswold.”

On the podium Paul was done setting up the laptop, and Sam walked over to it opening the presentation. He pulled out frameless glasses from the box and slid them up his long pointed nose.

“Damn!” Lacey said again.

Your vision was tunneling in, and the room was spinning around you. Nothing made sense anymore. Not where you were, not what you were doing. Nothing mattered except the fact that he was standing there, right in front of you.

You could hear the rustling of papers, and the tap-tap of fingers hitting keys. while you just sat there numbly, not knowing what to do, not caring what was happening, or how long it had been.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Madison was calling your name. “Are you okay? You look really clammy.”

Maybe she had been calling you for a while because a few people ahead of you turned to look, visibly annoyed. and it was in slow motion, almost reluctantly, as if to seek the source of disturbance that Sam’s eyes found you.

A second passed and you could see them widen, then freeze in absolute shock. Unadulterated and profound shock.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You muttered, then grabbed your laptop and your bag and rushed out of the door at the top, without caring about the papers you had spilt… and bolted across the corridor, without a sense of direction till you found yourself in a toilet cubicle, locked and in hysterics.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not ever.

You had closed that chapter of your life, fled as far away as you could and yet, and yet he was right here. Sam was so close to you, how had your heart not known?

***************************************

A lot like ‘Us’ Masterlist

A/N 2: SO WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK? Are we off with a good start?

PLEASE PLEASE please let me know?

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