rivers_bend

Title: A Saxophone Someplace far off Played
Genre: SPN/CWRPS crossover: Sam, AU!Jensen (implied Sam/Dean)
Rating: PG
Words: ~950
Summary: Three times Sam Winchester met Jensen Ackles
A/N: For fleshflutter who asked for Sam/Jensen. Apparently that's more an angst than a porn pairing in my mind, so she had to settle for Sam, Jensen instead.



One
The first time Sam Winchester met Jensen Ackles, he didn't remember later. It was only a few weeks after he lost Dean, and Sam still thought he could get his brother back with determination and heroics—or enough anger pointed in the right direction. It was the parking lot of a dive bar somewhere in Texas, and Sam was so far on the wrong side of sober that he was lying half-in and half-out of the Impala. The guy looked enough like Dean that nothing could convince Sam he wasn't, and he'd hauled himself up and thrown himself on the stranger, knocking them both over in the dirt.

"Dean," he said, "Dean!" over and over as he ran his hands over the almost-familiar features, the not-quite-wide-enough shoulders, and the very wrong clothes.

Jensen, surprised as hell and not one hundred percent sober himself, swore at first, tried to struggle out from under Sam's weight, but after a minute or so of Sam's tears dripping onto his cheekbones, he gave in, and tried to soothe his attacker instead, running hands over Sam's head and back, murmuring, "It's okay. You're okay."

There was something about the guy that struck him, made him want to take him home, feed him, give him somewhere to sleep, but that was ridiculous. So he just tried his best to reassure him.

Sam was babbling incoherently through his tears, and Jensen never caught on that the magic words were, "I'm okay."

Two
The second time Sam met Jensen Ackles, they learned each other's names. Sam hadn't yet hit bottom, but he was getting closer. He'd come to New Orleans to meet with a shaman and was doing his best to make sure he made it to the meeting sober. Sam lingered in a jazz club, which, while it did serve alcohol, also had more distractions than his motel room.

He ordered a coke and took it to a little table in a back corner. An hour later, a guy who looked enough like Dean to make Sam wonder if the lack of alcohol was making him hallucinate stopped and said, "You look better than the last time I saw you."

"Dean?" Sam asked, and the guy gave a half chuckle and rested a hand on the table's other chair.

"Still not Dean," he said. "Name's Jensen."

When he said it, Sam could see all the ways Jensen wasn't his brother, but it still hurt to look at him.

He was staring, and he realized it at the same moment it hit him that Jensen said, "the last time I saw you."

"Do I know you?" he asked. Any other time he might have suspected Jensen was a ghoul or a shape shifter, but he wasn't processing things the way he used to, and he took Jensen at face value.

Jensen pulled out the other chair an inch or so and gave Sam a raised-eyebrow, can I sit? look. Sam nodded.

"It was a bar in Texas," Jensen told him. "Not all that surprised you don't remember.

Sam wasn't surprised either. The entire time since he lost Dean was pretty much a blur.

"So," Jensen said, changing the subject. "You're a jazz fan?" He couldn't believe he was seeing the man again, though it made sense that the guy wasn't local. He had drifter written all over him, really. "You got a name?" he asked.

"Sam," the guy said.

They spent the next four hours listening to music, Jensen making small talk in the lulls and Sam trying not to reach over to touch Jensen's hand or give in to the need to order whiskey instead of coke.

About two in the morning Jensen stood up, squeezed Sam's shoulder, said, "Nice to see you again, but I've got to hit the hay." He didn't want to leave, but he had to get back on the road at first light, and he wasn't stupid enough to get involved with someone so clearly hung up on another guy.

Sam couldn't muster a smile, but he did wave goodbye. He ordered bourbon the next time he went to the bar.

Three
The third time, Sam didn't see Jensen at all. He and Dean were driving through Oklahoma, and they stopped for gas and snacks.

Jensen recognized the Impala out at the pumps. For three years he'd been seeing a set of broad shoulders or a head of tousled brown hair from across the room, thinking for a minute it was Sam, being disappointed when it wasn't. Now he felt the familiar kick of longing again, only magnified a thousand times because Sam was actually here this time. Jensen looked through the window of the Stop'n'Shop, thinking he'd see Sam towering over the shelves, but he caught sight of a man who could be his own brother. His twin.

"Dean," he whispered, knowing without a doubt that this was the man Sam kept mistaking him for. Then Jensen caught sight of Sam himself, walking up behind Dean until they were so close no light could be seen between them.

Jensen wanted to stay and talk to Sam, make certain he was okay, really see him again, but then Dean glanced up at Sam over his shoulder, and the look that passed between them, Jensen could tell Sam didn't need him. Jensen got back in his truck without filling up. He still had a quarter of a tank; it should be plenty to get him to the next station.

now with a J2 sequel here