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It was when Sam’s phone rang for a fourth time, vibrating quietly on the seat of the impala, that Dean finally spoke up.
“Come on, man. Can’t you just answer it?” Dean took a hand off the wheel to gesture to the only source of light in the impala. It was dark and though the mobile was face down, the screen was shining around the edges, reflecting off the leather seats.
“Um, it’s fine,” Sam mumbled, “I’ll just phone them back next time we stop.”
“Trying to hide something from me? Or maybe someone?” Dean joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“No. No!” Sam protested immediately, “I’m not. It’s just- I’ll get it later.”
Dean shot his brother a puzzled look. He’d been planning to make some jibe about a girl they’d met a few cases back, but Sam had been so quick to defend himself and his cheeks had been flushed. Dean wondered if he might actually be onto something. He paused a second.
The phone kept buzzing.
Dean decided it was his job to fluster his brother. “Don’t leave the poor girl waiting. You know I don’t mind hearing your mushy romancing. Just keep the dirty talk to a minimum and I promise not to pull too many faces.”
“Just drop it, Dean.” Sam scowled, scooping up the phone and flipping it over to turn it off, cutting the vibrations short. Dean tried to get a look at the name but the screen went black before he could see any more details than it being short. He caught Sam’s eye, raised an eyebrow, but Sam just shook his head at him. “Seriously, forget about it,” he said with a huff, before curling into himself and settling his head on the passenger door, supposedly to sleep.
“Alright,” Dean murmured lightly. But no, there was no way he was forgetting about that.
-
When they got to the motel, Sam volunteered to go grab a few groceries, saying he was fine to walk a couple blocks despite Dean’s protests that it’d be quicker to drive.
As soon as he was out the motel parking lot, he switched his phone back on and listened to his voicemail.
Hey, Sam. You’re probably killing something evil so I’m not offended, but call me back, I’ve got something awesome to tell you. Please. (There was a moment of silence) It’s Andy, by the way.
He let out a small laugh then dialed the number, a smile already resting easy on his features. He’d given Andy his number after they’d first met, told him to call him anytime anything came up. When Dean had questioned him on it (Since when do we give our personal cells to the monsters?) he’d shrugged and reminded Dean that Andy wasn’t anymore of a monster than he was. Truth be told there was something about Andy that he’d found a little magnetic. He was one of the only people in the world who didn’t have to hang onto his every word, yet he’d found himself wanting to talk to him anyway. He chalked it up to a shared traumatic past and left it at that. A day later he’d been surprised when Andy’s name had flashed up, and he had answered the phone a little panicked.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m great,” Andy’s mellow tone had replied.
“What’s going on?”
“Just checking in.”
“Checking in?” Sam had frowned.
“Y’know, letting you know that I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Right, good.”
“Or seduced anyone.”
“Great.”
“Or gained any material worth through… dishonest means. Just… letting you know.”
“Okay, well done.” Then Sam had laughed, shaking his head. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Thought you’d wanna know. You might assume I was back to my old ways if I never called you. Didn’t think you’d want that.” Sam could hear the shrug over the line.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t. It’s good to check in.”
And that was that. From then on, Andy called regularly to keep Sam up to date. At first it’d just been a formality (Killed? No. Stolen? … Sometimes. Seduced? No.) and then it had become… enjoyable. Answering the phone for a polite conversation eventually turned to genuine excitement whenever his name flashed up. He started to feel a fondness for Andy, a joy in his chest he hadn’t felt in a while, and after a while, a little nervousness whenever he called that he definitely hadn’t experienced since a certain blonde in college.
They talked and sometimes Sam felt a shyness well up as he realised he was talking about things, feeling things, that he hadn’t with anyone for a while. But he also liked the familiarity of it all, the habits they got into when it came to leaving voicemails, and the greetings they gave when they picked up the phone. The little things, the sweet things.
So when he called Andy on his way to the shops he knew it would take him at least four rings to pick up, and he knew to expect:
“This is Andy, psychic, scared and stoned. How can I help?”
“Stoned, really?” Sam was used to Andy being a bit out of it and had enjoyed the odd rambling conversation, but he often rambled into confusing territory that Sam, being almost completely inexperienced with drugs, didn’t quite understand.
“Nah, not really. Couldn’t think of another S though,” Was the reply. “Go on, ask me.”
“Killed anyone?” Sam asked, rolling his eyes, even though no one was there to see it. This was just a game at this point, like a secret handshake or codeword. Actually maybe he quite liked having something secret between him and Andy. He warmed a little at the thought.
“Not a soul.” Andy confirmed. “Have you?”
“Couple of vamps, not sure you’d count them as souls.” Sam said as he turned the corner onto the next street
“That’s so cool, man,” Andy said genuinely, despite hearing a similar thing from Sam every call, “Ridding this world of evil.”
Sam chuckled. “Stolen anything?” He asked, continuing the usual line of questioning.
“Nope. Oh wait, actually- never mind. Nope.” Andy replied, this was typical Andy, Sam had learned. He thought fast but spoke faster, a frantic tumble of words which he then quickly corrected and back tracked on.
“What was that? You almost stole something?” Sam teased as he crossed the street across from the shop, then entered.
“Well I did. But then I didn’t.” He trailed off, trying to find his train of thought. “I’m travelling, Sam, that’s what I was going to tell you. I’ve left everything I knew and I’m driving somewhere new. Not sure where yet I haven’t got much of a plan. But I knew I had to leave. I had to do something. I was getting stagnant, Sam. New people, fresh start. Maybe some friends. But I was filling up and I drove away without paying and when I realised I hadn’t paid I was an hour away and I was just going to keep driving but then I thought about you- about having to call you- and I didn’t want you disappointed in me, so I drove back and I paid. Actually I decided to fill up again and then pay again. But I didn’t steal anything.”
Sam had listened to his whole spiel as he’d grabbed some essentials, mind more on the call than the shop. He’d felt a little prickly (good prickly, warm prickly) when Andy had said he’d thought of him, despite the context. The idea that sometimes he was on Andy’s mind… well. He let his mouth twitch up into a smile, ducking his head forward so other shoppers wouldn’t see his grin and think he was mad. Andy did make him feel a little mad (good mad, fond mad).
“Okay, we can say you almost stole this time. But that is awesome, Andy,” Sam said, quoting Andy’s voicemail back at him as he paid, “I’m sure you’ll find somewhere to settle. And if you make some new friends then you won’t have to call me everyday.”
“Oh. I- right. Yeah.”
Sam’s smile dropped in an instant as he realised how what he’d said sounded. He ground to a halt as he left the shop
“No, Andy, wait.” Sam stumbled over his words, concerned Andy was going to hang up. “I didn’t mean stop. You can stop if you want to, of course. I just meant if you didn’t want to. Like you’ll have choices now. I don’t want you to stop calling. I want to speak to you all the time, I like it, I like speaking to you. But if you know other people then maybe you won’t feel like you have to speak to me all the time. Because you’ll have other.. friends.” Sam ran out of steam and trailed off lamely.
“I don’t call you because I have no other friends,” Andy said a little meekly.
“I know that, I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to say.” Sam’s face was screwed up and he was pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And you don’t just speak to me because you don’t have anyone else to speak to. Do you?” Andy’s usual rapid speech was a little weighed down now.
“No! Of course not! Well, I guess I don’t really have anyone else but that’s not because I couldn’t. I just move around a lot. I don’t really give my number out to anyone-”
“You gave it to me,” Andy pointed out.
“You’re not anyone, Andy, you’re different.”
“Yeah, psychic powers. I know.”
“No, I mean...” Sam scrunched his eyes shut again and ran a hand down his face. “I mean different to me,” He said softly.
“Oh.” A pause. “Okay.” Sam could hear Andy’s smile and his heart rate would have raised a little if it wasn’t already so high from the stress of being hopelessly awkward.
“Okay.” Sam nodded to himself. “Just don’t… don’t stop calling me. Keep checking in. Even if you meet other guys. And girls. People.”
“I will, Sam,” Andy said, resolutely, then he laughed a little and Sam felt a little flutter in his chest. and then he wished he’d been clearer about his feelings.
“If you’re driving about maybe you’ll find me and Dean,” Sam said, trying to lift the mood and distract himself from the realisation that he wasn’t really clear on what he was feeling- all he knew was that he really really liked getting to talk to Andy and he wanted to be around him again. So he could work out what was going on. Work out why he always felt a little confused after hanging up, even when Andy was completely sober.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Andy said quietly.
“Me neither.” Sam was smiling again.
A few seconds of silence passed.
“You didn’t ask me the last question,” Andy prompted.
“Right. Seduced any girls?” Sam asked. This always felt like the most charged question. Because the other two things were actually, honest-to-god, illegal. But seduction? As long as Andy didn’t use his abilities, there was nothing wrong with him going after anyone. It was none of Sam’s business and yet he always asked. And Andy always answered.
“None. No girls. Not a single lady.” Always the same tone, the same joviality that Andy knew made Sam laugh since the first time he did it.
“Good. Great,” He chuckled, then keeping his tone light, he asked, “Any guys?”
Andy spluttered a little. Sam had never asked that, never dared. He was concerned of crossing a line. Or giving something away. Maybe both.
Andy regained his composure then spoke, his words measured. “I’m not sure. Do you think I could call it an almost as well?” He’d said it just as casually as Sam had asked.
“You’re asking me?” Sam thought he might have to take a cold shower to cool down his burning cheeks. He was sure he could smell the tips of his ears smoking too.
“I’m asking you.” Andy sounded a little shy.
“I think we can call it an almost, Andy,” Sam said, his voice cracking slightly.
“Great. Cool.” Sam could imagine Andy nodding, and he wondered if he was trembling as much as Sam was.
“Well...” Sam eventually spoke after smiling down the line, hoping some part of Andy’s psychic gift would pick up on it, “If that’s us all checked in, I think I’ve got to go before Dean sends out a search party for his pie.”
“Alright. Good night, Sam. I’ll call you again soon,” Andy said.
“I’ll be waiting by the phone,” Sam chuckled, “Drive safe, Andy.” He added, tenderness creeping into his voice.
“Yeah, you too.” As Andy hung up, Sam got a flash of an image. It was Andy sitting in a van parked at the side of a road, his cheeks flushed and red, smiling at a phone. He looked up and seemed to see Sam, and though he frowned a little, his grin widened. It only lasted a few seconds but unlike his usual visions, it gave Sam a feeling of levity, like he could breathe properly for the first time in ages.
He opened the door to the motel and felt Dean’s gaze on him as he moved stuff over from the bag into the mini fridge.
“Good walk?” It felt like a loaded question but Sam didn’t care enough to overthink it.
“Fine walk.”
“Good.” Dean was still regarding him suspiciously.
“I got you pie,” Sam indicated, and with that, Dean ceased his scrutiny.
-
Sam lay sleeping but Dean was still awake, the buzz from eating an entire pie just wearing off. As he removed his layers and moved to get into bed, Dean saw Sam’s phone lying on the nightstand.
He hesitated for a second. He’d seen Sam call whoever it was as soon as he thought he was out of view, and he’d seen how happy he’d been as he’d come back, he’d looked lighter than he had since… maybe since Dean had picked him up from college.
Something in Dean itched to know what it was- who it was.
The phone was right there.
Dean shook his head. He didn’t need to know. There was so few good things in this job, if Sam had found something, then Dean didn’t want to ruin it by snooping it around. Dean could let his brother keep this one for himself.