#ok the composition n everything looks awful but her face turned out kinda nice actually

[chumii1]

i really dont want to finish this ehhh

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter Six

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 6,200

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Approximately three hours of arguing with herself about staying away from them later, George went to see if Jack and Sam had returned yet. She reasoned that, at this point, they'd been so adamant about her coming that staying away altogether would probably raise a larger red flag than if she just made a quick appearance.

That's not true! I'm just going so that they don't come looking for me. This is definitely the last time. Once I get the kid set up on the games, he'll forget I exist. Then I can slip back to my as-yet-undiscovered-room and wait quietly for Rowena to return and return me home. Everything will be fine. This has nothing to do with the beard.

I have to go to keep seeming uninteresting and innocuous, She reasoned with herself, though she knew it was dangerous. It was also not the real reason she was going.

There was no part of her that believed any of that. Especially as her heart fluttered at the thought of bearded Sam in that tight, gray deep v-neck.

First, she stopped in the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. Then she went to check Jack's room. As she walked up to the open door, she heard the two men talking.

"I don't understand why you don't want to tell me what happened." She heard Jack say.

Sam's annoyed huff made her pause, "I did tell you; nothing happened. She passed out exhausted and I didn't know where else to put her. There are so many new people here right now, I don't know what's an empty bed and what's not."

"OK…" She heard Jack's doubtful reply and then a pause before asking, "If Brent had passed out in your arms, would you have carried him to your bed?"

George grinned devilishly at the implication of the question, covering her mouth with her hand to stay quiet. There was a long, intriguing silence before Sam ordered defensively, "Shut up."

George decided to take that as her cue. She stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat, "'Shut up,' huh? Interesting parenting philosophy." She smirked as Sam started a bit and looked over at her. Presumably, he was wondering how much of that conversation she'd heard, and she felt in no hurry to fill him in.

Jack smiled at her and pointed to a surprising amount of booty on his bed and the floor in front of it, "George! They had everything on your list! Oh, except Mario 64."

Looks like the shoe's on the other foot, She thought smugly.

"Wow, really?" Her eyes went wide when she saw the small flat screen TV box leaning against the footboard and she looked at Sam with a surprised chuckle. She guessed Sam really wanted to keep Jack occupied. "And you bought it all, I see, awesome! Did you want some help setting up?"

"Yea, come in!" Jack nodded enthusiastically, waving her in, and then began unpacking his loot. George hesitated for a second as Sam watched Jack lay out all the equipment to start getting it set up.

Bitch, I don't know why you're taking pause now! You brought the damn beer. You planned this; just go in already.

With a quick, annoyed shake of her head to quiet the smug voices, she finally stepped into the room.

When she got close to him, Sam smiled, "Hey."

"Hi," George returned his smile nervously. "I don't remember that being on my list," Sam followed her gaze to the flat screen and then squirmed a bit, guiltily. Motioning to the rest of the stuff, she asked with a chuckle, "Feeling a little bit of dad guilt over something?"

Sam feigned ignorance, "Hmm?"

"I mean, OK, you needed the system and some games but…" Her eyes ran over the huge pile of game cartridges on the bed, wide with judgement. "And the TV? Kinda screams single-divorced-dad overcompensation. And I speak from experience."

"Oh, are you a divorced single dad, too?" Sam joked.

George snorted and corrected, "Raised by one… well, on Wednesdays and every other weekend. And he worked weekends… and most Wednesdays, so…" She trailed off with a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug and Sam nodded, understanding the semi-absent dad thing.

"I can definitely relate to the unavailable father," Sam's tone was serious but there was a smile on his face.

George stared at him curiously for a minute, Supernatural episodes flashing in her mind, and then nodded, "Oh, yeah, I guess you can." She was still getting used to television characters being real people. When he furrowed his brow curiously at her, she quickly said, "Anyway, yea, uh-expensive presents helped ease my dad's guilt about not really being there. That's how I got most of my video game experience." Just as he opened his mouth to respond, she held out a beer with a questioning look and said, "I think I owe you one or two of these? Although, seeing as this one is also from your fridge, think of this as more of a symbolic gesture. Since I can't actually repay you."

He chuckled and took the beer with a soft, "Thank you. And, no repayment needed. Trust me, we're just happy to be able to help. All of you." He was referring to the people from the camp again and she grimaced as a twinge of guilt zapped through her. Lying to him made her feel awful.

While it seemed like Jack was focused on unboxing the TV and not paying much attention to them, she held up the other beer and asked quietly, "Can he? I wasn't sure if you let him, but I brought it just in case."

Sam frowned a little and shrugged, "My brother lets him and I… choose my battles," he finished with a sigh. George smiled and nodded understandingly.

Seeing Jack was still preoccupied, she shrugged after a moment and offered, "Well, I don't normally drink beer but I can just say it's mine? He may not even ask for one."

Sam nodded appreciatively, snapping the bottle cap off his and tossing it into the garbage can in the corner. As she watched him raise the cold bottle to his lips, she couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous, newly bearded face. As he took a swig, her mouth went dry. Luckily, she was able to look away just before he caught her staring and she mentally kicked herself.

He raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed she didn't join him. Setting his drink down on the desk next to him, he reached out to take the unopened beer from her. "Ya know, it's more believable that you're drinking it, if it's actually open?"

"Oh, right," She let out a 'heh' of embarrassment as he popped the cap off and tossed it into the can as well. Taking it back from him, she admitted, "Like I said, not a big beer drinker."

With a teasing expression, he said, "Hmm… but really anything you drink out of a bottle has to be opened first, right?"

She blushed and smirked at his ribbing. Forcing herself not to laugh with all her might-made more difficult by the fact that she could see him trying not to smirk-she simply said, "Well, like I said, I was a latchkey kid. I typically drink strictly from the garden hose."

Jack finally looked over at them, finished plugging the TV in, and called to her, "George, come check the games!"

She grinned at the small "HA!" he let out at her joke. With a small, mental shrug, she lifted the beer and took a swig.

Fuck it, maybe it'll help calm my nerves. She then heard a smug sing-songy voice say, famous last words.

She walked over and looked at the cartridges that were laid out on his bed, "Nice! Oh, no way! Perfect Dark?!" She picked up the game and clutched it excitedly, "I totally forgot about this one!"

"Yea, I picked up a couple extras that weren't on the list. I hope that's OK, they just looked interesting," Jack said nervously.

"Of course it's OK! You might end up hating my game suggestions-not that that's possible because I have the best taste, obviously, but still. I'm glad you have a few to try on your own." Her grin increased as she looked at the game in her hand again, getting lost down memory lane for a moment. This game had gotten her through some rough patches.

She set it down and glanced over the few that were unfamiliar to her. "These ones I've never played before, so that'll be great. You'll get to actually figure out a few on your own."

"Will it be hard?" He wondered.

"Probably. And you'll most likely get so frustrated that you'll want to tear your hair out and throw the console against a wall. But, it'll be so freaking fun you can't stop. As Charles Dickens said, 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times'."

Sam laughed, picking his beer back up and taking another drink. George couldn't help but grin, drinking hers as well.

Damn if I'm not addicted to that sound.

While Jack was trying to get the console set up, he struggled to hook the system up to the small flat screen he'd placed on his dresser. George came over to help. After a moment, she identified the problem.

Holding up the console's composite cable she huffed, "This TV doesn't have RCA ports!"

"What?!" Sam 'pffted,' coming over to check it, running his hands along the back. When he found nothing, he stood back and put his hands on his hips, "Are you saying we're actually going to have to use our crappy old TVs for this?" He shook his head in disbelief.

George shrugged, "Eh, at least it gives him an authentic experience?"

A short while later they had the system set up on an old tube set and the three of them were playing a few rounds of Mario Kart 64. Jack was sitting cross legged on the edge of his bed. On the floor to his left was Sam, slouching against the bed with his legs stretched out long in front of him. George was to his right, with her knees bent and her feet planted on the ground, sitting straighter upright but also leaning against the bed.

In terms of play, all three were taking it serious. George was a little rusty but her muscle memory helped her quickly grab and keep first place almost every round. Jack was picking it up surprisingly quick but struggled with the strategic aspect of trap setting and disabling opponents. Sam needed a lap to get used to the buttons, but was now smoking Jack and catching up to George with ease.

At the moment they were in the middle of the second lap of their fourth round. Surprising everyone except George and Sam (because they threw it), Jack had won the first round and was very proud of himself. Unfortunately for Jack, he got a little too proud of himself. Her competitive side had roared to life at his boisterous celebration and the boys ate George's dust on the second and third rounds.

Sober George would have known better than to agree to another round. She would never admit it, but Sam had been hot on her tail the entire last round; he'd definitely be able to beat her by the next one. Unfortunately for her, she'd already finished her second beer and was feeling real cocky when they'd both demanded another round of her.

She had warned dramatically, "Alright, but if you're gonna take a shot at the Queen, you better not miss."

George was fairly far out in front and feeling great, when Sam's Peach shot a red shell at her Yoshi and she wasn't able to avoid it. As her Yoshi tumbled, George watched Peach fly past her into first place, a string of inventive curses flew out of her mouth, explaining in detail exactly where she thought Sam could put his red shells. He couldn't help but give her a quick, amused 'wtf' expression at her colorful vocabulary but she was too busy mashing her buttons to get back in gear again.

Just as she was gaining back on him, she gasped when Yoshi flipped over again. Another red shell.

"The FU-JACK!?" Her jaw dropped at Jack, whose Mario drove by and was now in second place. George let out a frustrated screech as the two men high fived each other over Sam's shoulder.

"Looks like we didn't miss, your royal highness," Sam teased, then dodged a kick to the shin with an evil laugh.

When Yoshi was upright and ready to go again, she pressed the A button down so hard her finger turned white. Pulling out all the stops to try and catch up to them again, she finally hit a mystery box. It took all her might to refrain from jumping for joy when three red shells appeared around her kart. Neither Jack nor Sam had noticed. Falsely confident that they'd disabled her, they'd devolved from their joint effort to take her down and were now going against each other. Jack lucked into hitting Sam with a tossed banana peel but Sam was able to out maneuver him on the next few turns and had scooted ahead again already.

George continued to gain on them, using her memory of the course to cut every corner she could and climb her way back up to third place. Sam and Jack were neck and neck, nearing the finish line on the final lap, and smack talking each other. They were barely paying attention to her and she waited for just the right time, before mashing her trigger button. Her red shells launched rapid fire. She watched with glee as Peach and Mario flipped over and stalled mere feet from the finish line.

As Yoshi sailed past them both and crossed in first place, George leapt up from her spot on the floor in triumph, "YES!" Sam and Jack flinched in pain; they were pretty sure everyone in the bunker had heard that.

"Tried to take me out, huh?" She asked Sam, then turned to Jack, "Didn't think I could get back up, did you? How ya like me now?" They were both trying to hide their annoyed grins and she continued, "You want to know why I always play Yoshi? Because he ain't a BITCH, and Neither. Am. I." She mic-dropped her controller onto the bed and did a victory dance in place. "Both. Of. Y'all. Can. SUuuUUuuUUuck. IiiiiIIiIIiiiIIiiit!" She sang joyfully, punching her arms into the air.

"Suck what?" Jack mumbled at Sam in exasperation, bummed that he'd lost again.

"Er-Nothing. It's just a saying, don't worry about it," The other man assured with a nervous throat clearing.

George quickly stepped over Sam's outstretched legs to the open space at the foot of Jack's bed. Jutting out her hip and placing a firm hand on it, she promptly began cat walking back and forth while singing, "Walk, walk, fashion baby. Work it. Move. That Bitch cuh-ray-zee." Jack was far more annoyed at losing than Sam, but they were both incredibly amused at her flamboyant, over-the-top reaction.

Sam watched her display with a smile and, after a moment, commented, "OK, Cindy Crawford, I'm cutting you off."

Pausing her catwalking to victory dance in front of him, she then lobbed, "And why? Don't like having your ass handed to you by a drunk woman?"

"You LUCKED out with all those red shells, George!" Jack argued defiantly.

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be a sore loser," George admonished jokingly, still wiggling her hips in delight.

"Yea, you're clearly only allowed to be a sore winner around here," Sam said pointedly with a chuckle. When George froze mid victory dance, her butt no longer bouncing in front of him, Sam regretted saying anything.

She scrunched her nose at him in offense, holding her hands up in surrender, "OK, fine. Yes. If it hadn't been for those red shells I would have been in third place."

Sam gave her a smug grin and said, "That's right."

She continued sweetly, "And obviously Jack would have won." A triumphant smile spread on Jack's face and he nodded his head in gracious acceptance of her determination.

"Thank you, yes-wait, what?" Sam started to agree with her and then it registered what she'd actually said. He did a double take. She knew darn well Sam would have won that round, but the smirk on her face told him she'd never admit it. Curiously, he was as turned on as he was infuriated.

Then, George added, "But the entire game is luck, dude! Most video games are. If you can't handle this, I would stay away from Mario Party," She warned in a serious tone.

Jack and Sam exchanged a serious look, then looked back at George. They had the same determined expression and Jack said, "Let's do it," while Sam nodded in agreement. He was having fun for the first time in weeks.

Maybe months, he thought grimly. He also hoped she'd say yes so he could do everything in his power to make her win and score another full frontal victory dance.

George laughed a little and nodded, "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's fun as hell, but no one wins at Mario Party. No. One," She finished ominously.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom before we keep going," Jack got up and headed for the door. He turned back with a thoughtful look on his face and said, "I might go to the kitchen for some snacks, too. Do you want anything?"

George shrugged, "Well, here's the situation Jack: I'm gonna say no but I will most likely steal some of whatever you bring back. So, I would say just accommodate for that and you should be golden."

Sam chuckled and said out of the corner of his mouth, "There's a life lesson in women if I've ever heard one." He avoided acknowledging the dirty look she shot him and shook his head at Jack, "Nothing for me, thanks."

After Jack left, George gave Sam a suspicious look and teased, "No more beer? Hmm, I see what you're doing."

Sam gave her a 'feigned innocence' expression and murmured, "Hmm?"

"You can stop drinking all you want; I can beat you, sober or not," Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a mean mug.

He chuckled, but said, "Truthfully, asking Jack to bring me a beer felt a little-"

"Alcoholic single dad?" George finished with a laugh and he joined her, nodding in agreement.

"Right," Sam pointed a quick finger in the air. "Not a great look," He said, standing up with a groan. "Yikes, shouldn't have been slouching like that. The older I get the less forgiving my back is."

"Have you ever tried a massage?" She asked, almost absentmindedly as she was distracted by him. His full height always took her breath away at first; she loved it.

Sam considered her question for a moment. Looking her over appreciatively, he asked with a teasingly incredulous tone, "No. Why, are you offering?"

That snapped George out of her stupor and she blinked rapidly. Thinking she hadn't heard him correctly, she asked "Oh, what? Oh, no! Er-I-I mean, I just, I wouldn't know where to begin. What? No, I mean I wouldn't know what I was doing. Not-no, I know what I'm doing I just-I'm not a professional. I-" Stop talking. Stop talking, now! George felt a bit warm and started fanning herself, "Hoo d'awgy, is it hot in here or just me? Maybe you should cut me off," She finished with a nervous laughter.

He had watched her nervous, adorable rambling gleefully, chuckling once or twice. Whenever he was near her, an eerie pressure would build in his chest that was reminiscent of feelings he'd thought were long since lost to him. He realized it was that feeling that spurred him on to be so flirtatious. At her last statement though, he reigned himself in and answered her question more earnestly to help break the tension and give her a chance to calm down, "I'm not so big on strangers touching me. And I worry about how sanitary those places are," he finished with an exaggerated shudder.

It had been kind of him to cut her a break, but when he started stretching out the kinks from his prolonged seat on the floor, any chance she had of calming down disappeared. She couldn't help but admire his physique. Her eyes trailed his body once over but then quickly settled back on his beard. She could kill the show producers for not letting him be bearded sooner than Season 14. 'Smoldering' didn't even begin to cover it.

She hadn't realized that she'd gotten lost in thought about those sexy whiskers until she heard his throat clearing. Widening in horror, her eyes quickly met his, which looked half amused, half curious.

With a lick of his lips, which made George's brows furrow with desire, he asked gently, "Is there something on my face?"

"No!" Gulping, she blushed from head to toe. After thinking about it for a split second, she heard a buzzed voice in her head say fuck it, you've already embarrassed yourself. Tilting her head to the side, she boldly proclaimed, "Well, actually…Yeah!" A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she tried to figure out how to say this without giving anything away. In her inebriated state, she finally settled on, "The last time I saw you, your face was less… Hagrid?"

Sam let out a loud laugh, a look of mock offense on his face. She covered her mouth as she snickered, realizing maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to say.

"Oh, wow! Hagrid, huh? I… Well, I'm not sure how to take that. Maybe I should go shave real quick," He teased sadly, rubbing a slow hand over his beard. It made her weak kneed.

"No! Please don't! I'm sorry," She leaned forward and gently squeezed his forearm with both her hands, then let go. "I was just trying to make you laugh! And I couldn't think of an attractive bearded man reference fast enough; Hagrid was the next best thing."

"Nah, you're right. Hagrid was good; you had to do it," He shrugged in acceptance. Squinting at her curiously, he asked, "But, just to clarify, you don't think I look like Hagrid, right?"

She snorted and then looked unsure. As she spoke she slowly craned her neck up, "Well, now that you mention it, he was half-giant!" Another laugh escaped him and she bit her lip to keep from grinning. The sound mixed with the beer was lowering her inhibitions a bit and she ran her eyes over him quickly in appreciation. Before she could stop herself, she assured him, "Seriously, though. The beard looks good. You look…" All the descriptions she could think of were too inappropriate even for her less inhibited state. Finally, she breathed, her eyes wide for emphasis, "good."

Sam gave her a shy, sexy smile and he looked down at the ground for a minute. She could swear the skin of his cheeks near the top of his beard was slightly pink.

Was he hiding a blush behind all that rugged? George wondered, watching him closely. Her stomach was nearly painfully tingling with nausea; she knew she should stop but fuck, when was she ever going to get this opportunity again?

Sam looked back up at her, the look in his eyes making her gulp, and asked with a questioning shrug, "'Good,' huh?"

George could tell he was baiting her but unfortunately her rational side was beating her horny/ buzzed side back with a stick, trying to keep control. So, she simply nodded and gave him a flirty smile, confirming, "Yes. Good." The word came out as a painful purr that caused Sam's eyes to darken curiously. George unconsciously licked her lips; it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Hmm," was the noise that broke the silence finally, rumbling heavily from Sam's chest. He was feeling very conflicted. For one, the alcohol was obviously affecting her and he wasn't trying to take advantage. But also, she was causing him to feel a lot of intense and strange feelings, feelings that hadn't been stirred up in years, and he couldn't explain why. He'd just met her! Knew almost nothing about her, yet he was flirting with her left, right, and center like he was… well, Dean! It felt so comfortable around her; he felt a calming sense of ease, as though his life wasn't a giant crapshoot of terrible day in and day out. That feeling should have been foreign to him but it wasn't completely. That's what terrified and confused him.

They'd been staring intensely at each other. George thought it seemed like he was holding himself back; she recognized the look and assumed it was the same one on her face right now. Running a suddenly nervous hand through his hair, he huffed a little and smiled.

"Well… thank you," His tone sounded as sincere as it did nervous. "I-"

Just then Jack came back and broke the tension in the room. George released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned to look at him. Balancing in his arms were two packs of red vines, one large bag of peanut M&Ms, six beef jerky sticks, two 'sharin' size' bags of Cheetos, and four Yoohoos.

The intensity of the previous moment paired with the absurd amount of food made her exclaim, "Dude!" The laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it; she got near tears. Sam joined her with distinct but far less intense chuckles at Jack's attempts to interpret George's earlier instructions.

"What?" Jack asked curiously, "You asked me to account for you wanting some! I figured it was more efficient to just bring you your own."

"Ah, yes, a classic mistake, Jack. Half the fun is eating the other person's food," Sam teased.

George shook her head and sighed out the last of her laughter, "Oh, man. That was great. OK, I have to pee and then we'll have a talk about appropriate food portions before the game. Also, the fact that you brought peanut M&Ms and not caramel is near criminal."

Sam followed her out the door, saying, "I think I've changed my mind on that beer. I'll be right back, too."

"Grab me one?" She requested over her shoulder and he nodded affirmatively.

On her way back to Jack's room, George was wringing her hands nervously. Her mind was racing; she'd barely been able to concentrate on peeing! There was a heated debate going on in her head about what the hell she thought she was doing. A very large, very selfish part of her had not wanted to hold herself back. But she was skating on thin ice. Thin? Try imaginary! You seriously believe Sam Winchester is flirting with you? You have lost your damn mind. You look like a bumbling moron to him. A total Becky! Not to mention, he's a 10 and you're an Idaho six, if we're being generous.

The unnecessarily hurtful arguing in her head silenced instantly when she rounded the corner and found Sam in the hallway, sans beer. He was nervously pacing about 6 feet from Jack's room. She gulped; he looked agitated all of a sudden. Was he about to give her a talk about being inappropriate and how they should just "be friends?" She heard a voice sing-song in her head: I told you so, six.

Forcing herself to move forward once again, she tried to steal herself for the blow. To her surprise, his expression shifted to regret when he noticed her finally.

"Hey," He started, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but-" he held up his phone with a grimace.

"You have a hunt," George finished slowly with an understanding-and incredibly relieved-head nod. She watched Sam glance back at Jack's room with sad eyes. It clicked after a moment and she added with a less understanding tone, "And you want me to keep Jack distracted while you go?"

Sam gave her an adorable, pleading face, "Yes, please? I already broke the news to him and he's… upset about not being able to come."

George frowned, "Dude, are you seriously leaving me here by myself to entertain him? Sam!" She stomped her foot quietly, mock upset, "I don't know anything about what young adults are into these days. SnapChat? Four Loco? Miley Cyrus?!"

"Hey, look at this as an opportunity to finally play those real deep cuts from Avril," Sam joked back and George punched his arm gently; both laughed.

"OK, but really, do you have any tips for how to handle a teenage boy who's pissed because he can't go kill things?" She looked nervously toward Jack's room. "How do I cheer him up?"

"Well, I think we both know what you're going to have to do," Sam said with a deep, apologetic sigh. George raised an eyebrow curiously. Sam raised both of his and widened his eyes with a pointed head tilt in response. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she began to see where he was going with this and his head started nodding slowly.

"No," George said matter of factly, starting to shake her head. "No!"

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but-"

"I refuse!" She dug her heels in and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Now, now," He began in the same tone you would use to speak to a toddler. "You asked how to make him happy."

"I am not going to debase myself like that, Sam. No!"

"Listen, I know it's hard! But you've done it once already! Was it really tha-"

"Horrible! You of all people should understand why this is a terrible thing to ask! You had to do it once, too!" She uncrossed her arms and pointed at him, demanding, "Look me in the eye and tell me a little piece of your soul didn't die the last time?"

"Oh it wasn't that bad," Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That's easy for you to say, Sam! You're bad at it! But, I have a reputation to protect!"

"OK, Kinicki, well if you want Jack to have fun, you're going to have to suck it up and let him win at Mario Kart!" When she huffed, shaking her head in continued defiance, he rolled his eyes and offered a compromise, "Every once in a while!"

After a few moments of mean mugging each other, neither one willing to give in, they both just started laughing. Once their laughter died down, he gave her a serious, apologetic expression and said, "Georgia, I really am sorry to do this… I was having fun."

As he used her full name, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. With a gentle shake of her head, she waved him off, "Don't be sorry; you have to go. And truly, I don't mind. Jack's actually a pretty cool kid…" She trailed off and then furrowed her brow in mock concern, "or am I a lame adult?"

He chucked, then shrugged and said, "Well, if you are then I am."

"Good thing Dean didn't hear you say that," She joked, shooting a finger gun at him. The look on his face in response was indiscernible and she kicked herself. "Shit, sorry. That was insensitive. With Michael and everything, I-I didn'-"

Sam waved his hand in the air and cut her off, "Nah, I know you didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking how accurate the statement was, yet… you haven't met Dean, right?"

Her eyebrows went up in sobered surprise. Shit. She gulped and stuttered out, "Oh-right-no, that's right. I haven't… I-I just, uh, I know what it's like to have a big brother! He's-he is your big brother, right? I mean, I think I've heard Jack or someone say that…" Sam's brows furrowed further, looking at her curiously and nodding slowly in confirmation. "Right, well, yea. I just-I figured since Dean was your big brother, he'd relish the opportunity to make a comment about you being a loser. I know my brother certainly lived for it." She felt like he could tell she was sweating and it made her sweat more.

"Uh huh," Sam said with a slow drawl, not entirely convinced.

As George watched him she became less nervous, realizing that there was a lot of pain behind his bright hazel eyes. It was obvious that he was really worried about his brother; her heart twinged in empathy.

Without thinking, she placed a hand on his forearm and gripped tightly. With a comforting smile she promised, "Don't worry, Sam. You'll find Dean soon."

Sam felt as if the wind knocked out of his lungs as an intense burst of deja vu hit him. It couldn't be… that had been a dream. A fake dream at that! All part of the trickster's mind games trying to get him to give up on saving Dean. Obviously, there was no way this was the same woman. Yet he knew he'd heard that consolation before. From her, he felt sure. But how would he have dreamt about a woman from an alternate reality?

She jumped when she heard someone shout from down the hall, "Sam!"

George was panicking internally. He'd flinched at her words and the look on his face made her sick to her stomach. She let go of his arm quickly. Had she gone too far? Had she offended him? Was he just disgusted at being touched by her? A million thoughts raced through her mind as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Sam snapped out of his stupor and furrowed his brow a bit. "COMING!" He boomed in their direction and then looked back at her in apology. Though he still seemed perturbed by something.

George smiled understandably, eternally grateful for the interruption, and began before he could say anything, "You have to go! I'll keep an eye on Jack for a while longer. But I swear to God if he starts trying to talk to me about Fortnite or TikTok or FOOTBALL: I'm. Out."

Sam had moved around her, slowly starting to head for the map room, "Football?"

"I just really hate sports," She deadpanned with a shrug, turning her body around to follow him.

He chucked and nodded, "Ah. Noted." He bowed to her slightly as he backed away, "Well, Thank you again. I owe you a beer now… or maybe a massage?" He offered innocently, adding, "I may not be a professional, but I definitely know what I'm doing." He watched just long enough to see her jaw drop, then with a wink, he turned and left.

When she'd mopped herself up from the floor and had finally started breathing again, George looked up to the ceiling and begged, "I have thirty five thousand dollars in savings and retirement and it's all yours for a copy!"