The Journal of Sam Winchester

Sam had thought that once he and Peter had graduated, they wouldn't see a certain adorable child again until, well, she actually existed. Then Zoe had called, with unmistakable squealing in the background, and once again, Sam was glad to have a boyfriend who could teleport so they didn't have to worry about dealing with Portalocity.

"Man, we didn't even go to prom. Do you think doing, you know, typical post-prom things counts even if you're away from Fandom?" Yes, he was still trying to figure this place out. Old habits died hard.

After the Winchesters had gotten home from their latest adventure, Sam hadn't really left the house. He knew he was going to have to face people today, people who would probably want him to talk about what had happened, but for once, he was pretty sure he wanted to just keep quiet and pretend nothing had happened at all. He didn't know how to explain the situation without making it come out all wrong, and he still hadn't sorted out how he felt about Gordon's claims, about the idea that he was destined to turn evil no matter what, and about what his dad had done to shut Gordon up.

Not eager to leave the house yet, he was sitting among Grace's toys, cleaning them up and trying to make some semblance of organization out of them. It was nice and mindless, and that was just what he needed right now.

[For the Winchesters and anyone else who might want to get some sense-smacking going on. *halo*]

Sam was putting the finishing touches on his apple pie (a task made slightly more difficult when Zoe had been distracting him and stealing the apple pieces), and trying to watch Dean work at the other end of the kitchen without being noticeable.

"Do you still need help with preparing anything?" he asked.