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Description
Tried My Best at Moving On

Diana was packing meticulously when her phone vibrated off the side table and fell to the floor, still buzzing loudly. There aren't many people who should be calling her this late and she really just wanted to let it go to voicemail. If it was important, they'd call back.

It's not that she was being lazy, but the week was long and hard, and it had left her dying for a long soak in a hot bath. She was beginning to see why Dean hates witches so much. Well, hated, since everything is past tense with him these days.

Against her better judgment, she fished the phone off the floor and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Diana? It's Sam. Sam Winchester?"

"Hi Sam." As if she didn't know his voice. It always managed to bring a smile to her face. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually," He almost sounded shy. It's funny to think about, with his height. But she supposed part of that shyness comes from being on his own for so long. "It's what I can do for you."

"I'm all ears."

On the other end, Sam laughed slightly. "Would you like to go to dinner if you're still in town?"

--

--

Dinner? That's how he put it, 'dinner'?

"Dean, would you let it go. I do need some friends, you know."

The ghost hadn't let it go since she mentioned that they wouldn't be hitting the road until late. Of course Dean had demanded to know why they were sticking around and she couldn't just lie to him.
She hadn't seen Sam since he had discovered she was the newest owner of his brother's beloved car. Sure, there had been calls in between that time, but Diana had found it hard to shake the feeling that he was avoiding seeing her simply because seeing her meant he'd also be seeing the Impala again and thus reminding him why he had sold the car in the first place. Him showing up to aid her with the witches had been a surprise itself and of course, she was grateful to him for the help. As much as Dean had taught her, witches still tended to throw her for a loop. Evil bitches.

So why not accept his invitation to dinner?

What do you need friends for? You got me. Dean scoffed.

"That's the problem. I have you and that's it. I do need some friends that have a pulse."

Diana hadn't considered her words until after she said them and she looked at the empty seat beside her. "Dean-" She tried to find something to say. After all, he was always there when she needed him. It had been Dean who had tried to comfort her each time she couldn't save a life while hunting down some nasty creature. Who sat by her side while she cried and raged at the world. Dean who could make her laugh and drive her crazy with his music. She hadn't had a friend like that in a long time, pulse or not.

He'll be waiting for you. It sounded almost hollow and strange, as if he hadn't spoken it, but it had come from the speakers instead.

"Dammit, Dean! Would you let me apologize!" She demanded.

Nothing to apologize for. Go on.

--

--

After the mini fight with Dean, she almost wasn't in the mood to eat. At least until she found Sam seated in the booth. It still surprised her that this was the same person she had met in Minnesota. He had been different then, his hair longer and there had been dried blood under his nails. He had been the type to scare a girl off more then draw her in. She wondered now if even then he had been mourning Dean's passing and the look had been meant to keep others away.

"Hey stranger," She teased, taking the seat across from him.

"Hey," He said. "I know you said you were going to show up, but I wasn't sure."

"Wouldn't miss a chance to see you." She teased and it was true. She liked meeting up with and seeing Sam. He was always a moment of calm in her otherwise now very fucked up world.

Talking and laughing seemed to fill up the rest of their time even before the food came. He told her about two months back in Tucson when all his white shirts accidentally turned up a sunny side orange due to a tank top some poor girl must have left behind. She talked about hunting a shape shifter in Brooklyn when she fell down a flight of stairs and if damsel in distress #169 hadn't gotten her shit together, how she'd probably have bled all over the floor.

It was all well and good until one of the waitresses passed by with a tray full of food. Closest to them was the juiciest looking bacon cheeseburger Diana had seen in a long time. But the burger soon lost her interest. It was the look that Sam sent it that was far more interesting.

It was like looking at some one who had lost their best friend.

"Sam?" She asked, getting him to look at her.

"Oh. Sorry." He blinked and looked back at her. "Sorry."

"Something on your mind?"

"No, it's nothing. It's just…" He forced a smile. "Dean used to love those."

"Cheeseburgers?" She had never considered what Dean's favorite foods were. She knew pie was somewhere in there, but that was the extent of what she knew. Much as she knew his favorite songs, they had never discussed food.

"Bacon cheeseburgers especially." He clarified. "He'd inhale them. Even when I'd tell him…." Again, Sam's voice wavered. "Even when I told him all that grease would be the death of him."

The way his voice shook made Diana reach out and take his hand. "You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to." She assured him. She never wanted to push the subject of Dean, for fear that Sam would pull away from her and be back on his own the way he had been when they met.

"No, no, think it's better that I do." He assured her.

So he told her about Dean. Much of it she already knew, like his favorite music, how much he loved his car. How he had been brave, loyal to both their father and to Sam. It was touching how he didn't seem to be willing to leave out the smallest detail for fear that she'd be bored. Again, Diana found herself wishing she could let him know that Dean wasn't gone, not really. But with that wish came a gnawing ache inside her stomach, a feeling she couldn't shake. If Sam knew his brother hadn't left that so beloved car, he would take action. Find an exorcism spell to purge Dean from the inside of it, so that every trace crossed over to either heaven or hell. As much as she could see the logic behind such a decision, she wasn't quite sure she was ready to let go of Dean the snaky ghost just yet. So she stayed quite. Even if the cheeseburger thing seemed to rest on her mind and stay there.

Description
Tried My Best at Moving On

Diana was packing meticulously when her phone vibrated off the side table and fell to the floor, still buzzing loudly. There aren't many people who should be calling her this late and she really just wanted to let it go to voicemail. If it was important, they'd call back.

It's not that she was being lazy, but the week was long and hard, and it had left her dying for a long soak in a hot bath. She was beginning to see why Dean hates witches so much. Well, hated, since everything is past tense with him these days.

Against her better judgment, she fished the phone off the floor and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Diana? It's Sam. Sam Winchester?"

"Hi Sam." As if she didn't know his voice. It always managed to bring a smile to her face. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually," He almost sounded shy. It's funny to think about, with his height. But she supposed part of that shyness comes from being on his own for so long. "It's what I can do for you."

"I'm all ears."

On the other end, Sam laughed slightly. "Would you like to go to dinner if you're still in town?"

--

--

Dinner? That's how he put it, 'dinner'?

"Dean, would you let it go. I do need some friends, you know."

The ghost hadn't let it go since she mentioned that they wouldn't be hitting the road until late. Of course Dean had demanded to know why they were sticking around and she couldn't just lie to him.
She hadn't seen Sam since he had discovered she was the newest owner of his brother's beloved car. Sure, there had been calls in between that time, but Diana had found it hard to shake the feeling that he was avoiding seeing her simply because seeing her meant he'd also be seeing the Impala again and thus reminding him why he had sold the car in the first place. Him showing up to aid her with the witches had been a surprise itself and of course, she was grateful to him for the help. As much as Dean had taught her, witches still tended to throw her for a loop. Evil bitches.

So why not accept his invitation to dinner?

What do you need friends for? You got me. Dean scoffed.

"That's the problem. I have you and that's it. I do need some friends that have a pulse."

Diana hadn't considered her words until after she said them and she looked at the empty seat beside her. "Dean-" She tried to find something to say. After all, he was always there when she needed him. It had been Dean who had tried to comfort her each time she couldn't save a life while hunting down some nasty creature. Who sat by her side while she cried and raged at the world. Dean who could make her laugh and drive her crazy with his music. She hadn't had a friend like that in a long time, pulse or not.

He'll be waiting for you. It sounded almost hollow and strange, as if he hadn't spoken it, but it had come from the speakers instead.

"Dammit, Dean! Would you let me apologize!" She demanded.

Nothing to apologize for. Go on.

--

--

After the mini fight with Dean, she almost wasn't in the mood to eat. At least until she found Sam seated in the booth. It still surprised her that this was the same person she had met in Minnesota. He had been different then, his hair longer and there had been dried blood under his nails. He had been the type to scare a girl off more then draw her in. She wondered now if even then he had been mourning Dean's passing and the look had been meant to keep others away.

"Hey stranger," She teased, taking the seat across from him.

"Hey," He said. "I know you said you were going to show up, but I wasn't sure."

"Wouldn't miss a chance to see you." She teased and it was true. She liked meeting up with and seeing Sam. He was always a moment of calm in her otherwise now very fucked up world.

Talking and laughing seemed to fill up the rest of their time even before the food came. He told her about two months back in Tucson when all his white shirts accidentally turned up a sunny side orange due to a tank top some poor girl must have left behind. She talked about hunting a shape shifter in Brooklyn when she fell down a flight of stairs and if damsel in distress #169 hadn't gotten her shit together, how she'd probably have bled all over the floor.

It was all well and good until one of the waitresses passed by with a tray full of food. Closest to them was the juiciest looking bacon cheeseburger Diana had seen in a long time. But the burger soon lost her interest. It was the look that Sam sent it that was far more interesting.

It was like looking at some one who had lost their best friend.

"Sam?" She asked, getting him to look at her.

"Oh. Sorry." He blinked and looked back at her. "Sorry."

"Something on your mind?"

"No, it's nothing. It's just…" He forced a smile. "Dean used to love those."

"Cheeseburgers?" She had never considered what Dean's favorite foods were. She knew pie was somewhere in there, but that was the extent of what she knew. Much as she knew his favorite songs, they had never discussed food.

"Bacon cheeseburgers especially." He clarified. "He'd inhale them. Even when I'd tell him…." Again, Sam's voice wavered. "Even when I told him all that grease would be the death of him."

The way his voice shook made Diana reach out and take his hand. "You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to." She assured him. She never wanted to push the subject of Dean, for fear that Sam would pull away from her and be back on his own the way he had been when they met.

"No, no, think it's better that I do." He assured her.

So he told her about Dean. Much of it she already knew, like his favorite music, how much he loved his car. How he had been brave, loyal to both their father and to Sam. It was touching how he didn't seem to be willing to leave out the smallest detail for fear that she'd be bored. Again, Diana found herself wishing she could let him know that Dean wasn't gone, not really. But with that wish came a gnawing ache inside her stomach, a feeling she couldn't shake. If Sam knew his brother hadn't left that so beloved car, he would take action. Find an exorcism spell to purge Dean from the inside of it, so that every trace crossed over to either heaven or hell. As much as she could see the logic behind such a decision, she wasn't quite sure she was ready to let go of Dean the snaky ghost just yet. So she stayed quite. Even if the cheeseburger thing seemed to rest on her mind and stay there.