Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The chill air must’ve only been sixty degrees, so unlike the humid weather that she knew so well from home. Each time the wind blew, it cut through the thin T-shirt that had been given to her at orientation. It must be the coast, she thinks, bringing in cold currents from the Pacific that carry winds to Palo Alto. She gripped a piece of paper tightly in her hands, wishing it not to blow away.

Jessica Moore, Human Biology on the Pre-Nursing Track printed in bold letters across the top. She had gotten her schedule in the mail a few weeks ago, having sat by the phone for hours to call the registrar for each class she wanted to take. The competition, unsurprisingly, was fierce at a selective school like Stanford, so a few items on her schedule were further down on her priority list. She was enrolled in developmental psychology, public speaking, statistics, introductory biology, human anatomy, and biology lab. While she wanted all her classes to be as close to her major as possible, she could’ve had worse. For her additional science credit, she was stuck in a forensics dry lab. It was not entirely her wheelhouse, but interesting, nonetheless.

With her schedule held a copy of her dormitory information, which led her to where she stood in front of Crothers Hall. Room 210, with the roommate Rebecca Warren. The building was small, with only three stories, and was made up of tan walls and brown metal accents, with crisp green grass laid out in front of it. It looked like the typical college campus; it was something right off the cover of the Stanford advertisements. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. She knew none of the other freshman students, so she allowed the school to place her with a random roommate. Ideally, they’d both be able to keep their heads down, do their work, and she could be left alone.

She pushed through the double metal doors and into the open foyer. The heat was already building up inside, which, along with the broken elevator, would not make for a pleasant time moving in. Luckily, she had less than most, carrying only a single suitcase and a backpack with a duffel slung over her shoulder, which she begrudgingly began carrying up the stairs.

After climbing the two flights, she was mildly worn out and ready to move in. She dragged her suitcase down half of the hallway, the wheels bumping along the uneven carpet, before she came across her room. Her name was hastily scrawled on a sticky note and taped to the door, telling her she was in the right place.

Jiggling her key in the knob and pushing in, she stumbled into the barren room. Having picked the earliest move in time offered to her, she wasn’t surprised to find her roommate hadn’t arrived yet. This gave her a pick of her side of the room, but there wasn’t much of a difference. Two wooden beds sat lifted above the ground on either side of the window, matching desks underneath and dressers beside them. For her, it was only a question of the left or the right. Right, it was.

No sooner had she spread the sheets across her bed than the door reopened, revealing a girl with wild curly brown hair pulled into a bandana, and an older guy who - based on their similar features - must’ve been her brother.

“You must be Jessica!” Presumably Rebecca lit up and rushed over to shake her hand. “I am so excited to meet you.”

She put on a smile that was hopefully more genuine than it felt and returned the sentiment. “Rebecca? I’m hoping you’re my new roommate for the year!”

“Yeah, first year psychology student. This is my brother Zach, who’s a sophomore here.”

“I got stuck bringing up the suitcases while my mom brought around the car. I live off campus this year, thank God.”

“Why? This is clearly five stars.” Jess joked, looking around at the room that had already become cramped with just the three of them.

“Funny.” Rebecca snorted, throwing her backpack on the empty bed. “Zach, either start putting things away or leave. I didn’t bring you to stand there and look pretty, you aren’t good at it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He dropped the bags on the ground and disappeared down the hallway.

“He’s not always this grumpy during introductions. Do you have siblings?”

“No.” Jess shook her head. “And I’m guessing that’s a good thing.”

“Eh. The manual labor was nice.” Rebecca was funny. She shared Jess’s same sarcastic sense of humor, which meant they would at least be compatible personality wise. As long as Rebecca wasn’t consistently this extroverted, it could work out.

She spent the next hour unpacking, putting her clothes in the drawer and her belongings around her side of the room. She didn’t have much besides the Woodstock 1969 poster above her desk, her class schedule taped next to it, some notebooks in the top drawer, and her Walkman and tapes in the bottom one. On her bed, she had a lone pillow accompanied by simple white sheets and a light blue comforter.

She needed a lamp.

Rebecca’s side could not be more different. Tiger Beat would’ve been in awe at the color splashed around the room, pictures posted above her desk of her and her friends, and the stereo propped up next to a makeup container above her dresser. She even had a giraffe stuffie at the end of her bed. Jess had to admit, her side was pretty with all the decorating details she had never been able to replicate. It did brighten up the room, that’s for sure.

When Rebecca’s parents entered the room lamenting about the time it took them to find an empty parking spot, Jess took that as her cue to leave. She trotted down the steps that were already feeling familiar to her and outside to find the dining hall. She spent time memorizing the map before she arrived on campus, but it did nothing to help orient her to where she was.

After winding around a few buildings and trying to follow the flood of people, she found the building. Wooden circular and rectangular tables were scattered throughout the inside, most containing a handful of students. She glanced around the room, trying to follow the proper steps. She followed the flow along the backside and into a kitchen area not unlike the ones she recognized from her previous schools. She started off small with some fried potatoes, an apple, and a bottled soda before returning to the crowded room. At long last, she snagged an empty seat at one of the lone tables, the only person near her a young guy with shaggy brown hair and a Carhart jacket that seemed a size too big. A large, worn book was open in front of him and he didn’t even glance up when she sat down. Not at all threatening.

When she returned to the dorm later that evening, she was relieved to see Rebecca’s family was gone and it was only her roommate still around. She was sitting at her desk, laptop open in front of her with her course information up. She was on her phone in the midst of a passionate discussion about the merits of sororities in academia, clearly passionate about the subject.

She looked up at Jess when the door closed and pressed the phone to her shoulder. “You don’t mind me talking on the phone, do you?”

Jess shook her head with a small smile, before sitting down at her desk and pulling copies of her printed syllabi out of her ratty blue Jansport bag, trying to understand the expectations before her classes started in the next few days. She was used to focusing with background noise and couldn’t blame Rebecca for wanting to talk to her friends from home, so she did her best to tune it out.

She managed to get through most of her pre-course requirements by the time her phone buzzed on the desk next to her, making her jump. She flipped it open to check the text, the name Michelle flashing on the screen.

All moved in?

Jess typed out her reply quickly. Yes, thank you for checking in.

The reply came almost immediately. Good. I wish you luck in this next part of your life, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.

She closed her phone and put away the papers, before climbing into bed. She didn’t respond. There wasn’t any need. That part of her life was over, and pretty soon she’d be onto her career anyway. All she had to do was make it through undergraduate. She watched Rebecca go about her night routine for a few minutes, walking around with her hair in braids and a toothbrush in her mouth, before rolling over to face the wall. She could already tell sleep wouldn’t be coming as easily as she would’ve liked.

One day down, four more years to go.

Chapter Text

It was only five o’clock in the morning, but he was wide-awake. He hadn’t been able to sleep well, not since he arrived on campus. Something was missing and his psyche seemed to dwell on that, even though Sam tried to keep thoughts of home from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling as the minutes slowly ticked by and light creeped in through the closed blinds. While he would love nothing more than to be up and moving, his roommate snored loudly from the other side of the room and his first class wasn’t until eight, so he had to wait it out.

At six, he determined it was a reasonable time to get up. He dragged himself down the hall to the communal bathroom, shower caddy and towel in hand. While he had heard the complaining of most of his hallmates about the shared space, it was nicer than any motel bathroom he and Dean had been crammed into, so he accepted it. The shower was warm, which woke him up slowly and eased his anxiety as the steam filled his lungs. That was one of the perks of being up early – there was still hot water. Gone were the days of playing his brother in rock, paper, scissors for who got first shower, only to lose and be freezing. He dried off his hair before slipping into his clothes, trying not to get them wet. He was used to just fumbling around in a towel until his body dried, only then getting dressed, because it was largely just him and his brother, plus their dad at most. Not so much here.

His blue t-shirt clung to his wet torso in a way he didn’t appreciate, so he pulled at it uncomfortably the walk back down to his dorm room. When he pushed open the door, he was surprised to see his roommate – Tyson, if he remembered correctly from their brief introduction – still out cold, face buried in his pillow. Sam ignored him, instead shoving his school supplies into his backpack. He had a few notebooks he found for less than a dollar a piece, along with the few textbooks he did have to fork over a fortune for. Well, not him per se, but Owen McFee, the owner of one of the questionable credit cards Dean had provided him with as a parting gift.

Seven came around, and he deemed it an appropriate time to exit the dorm. He took the stairs down to the first floor and pushed out the door to the courtyard. He shivered against the wind, but was otherwise a reasonable temperature (58 degrees, he checked). He then began the walk across campus from where he lived to where the majority of his classes were. The ten minutes felt like a breeze compared to his morning workouts growing up, but paired with the lack of sleep, he was already desperate for a coffee by the time he arrived.

Only one other person was there, sitting on a bench next to the lab and waiting for the doors to open. In all honesty, Sam didn’t know what a dry lab was. The forensics aspect had piqued his interest, as had the knowledge that it would cover his natural sciences credit. From what the syllabus had said, the information was all provided and theoretical, so their analytical skills were tested more than their practical ones. While Sam would’ve been content with a regular lab, he was relieved that this seemed less pressure filled.

As the clock ticked on, more people began to show up, until he was one of many. Fifteen minutes before class was set to start, the door opened, and everyone flooded in. Not wanting to call attention to himself, he waited until the path was completely clear and then slipped inside. He scanned the room, trying to find empty seats. Most had already been taken, but in the second to last row, there was a spot next to a small blonde girl. Not seeing better options, he took a seat beside her.

“Good afternoon class, my name is Dr. Nunez, and I will be your professor for Forensics Discovery and Analysis. This is primarily an introductory course for those of you interested in pursuing criminology or anthropology, but hopefully is also taken by a few who are interested in my subject.” There was a quiet chuckle from a few students. “If you’ve read your syllabus, you will know this class is made up of a few components - The partner work you complete in this class, the four lab reports you will craft about your findings, and a final exam. If you have any concerns, please email me, or attend my office hours. Now let us begin with a brief history of the forensic field…”

As Dr. Nunez trailed off and began his lecture, Sam took the time to look to his left at who had now become his partner for the semester. Her eyes were glued to the presentation, though her pencil remained untouched next to her notebook. Her dirty blonde hair was braided back, and she had on a faded green t-shirt. She was pretty, Sam couldn’t help but notice, and his mind supplied a scenario where instead of him it had been Dean in this class, where he wouldn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation with her and persuade her to follow him back to his room before they had even been let out of the class.

That wasn’t Sam though. And he needed to make a good first impression on his partner for the semester.

“Since I guess we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future, I’m Sam. Winchester.” He said, his voice low enough that the professor wouldn’t overhear him.

To his relief, the girl looked back over at him with a small smile. “Jessica Moore.”

He nodded and went back to following along with the first lesson. But when he looked over a few minutes later, Jessica had begun her work as well, the top of her paper written in messy print Lab Partner: Sam Winchester.

After three consecutive classes, Sam was happy to have a break to go back to his room and collect his thoughts before having one last one later in the day. When he entered the room, his roommate was in there as well, somehow still in bed.

“Hey, dude! Did you have an 8AM class?” Tyson asked, sitting up, having heard the door. At least from the looks of it, he had already been to class.

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked, dropping his backpack on the floor.

“I got up for my nine, and you were long gone.”

“Yeah.” Sam didn’t really know what he was supposed to say to that.

“Want to get dinner tonight? I have to run to another class, though I could always skip it if you wanted to do lunch.”

“No, don’t skip your class! We don’t have to do either.”

Tyson dropped down from his bunk. “Uh… we’re roommates. The brotherhood is destined to be legendary. I have to at least attempt to get to know you.”

“You know my name is Sam. I know you’re Tyson. That’s really it?”

“And you’re already wrong. Tyson is for legal papers and my parents when they’re pissed. Everyone calls me Brady.”

“Well then, nice to officially meet you, Brady?”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Brady nodded, pleased with himself. “Now, be back here by six and we can go to this sweet place near the coast. The ‘rents have some pull with the owner so we’ll be in and out in a jiffy.”

Sam took one look at Brady, tan hair and blonde skin like he was destined to be in California. His polo was freshly dry cleaned and on-brand, while his khakis still had the pressed lines like they were brand new. Sam was pretty sure his jeans had a hole in the pocket. It was very clear that any restaraunt Brady would be taking him, Sam would not be able to afford.

“No disrespect man, but I’ll have to pass.”

“Fair enough. Any man who would turn down a meal on-the-house is not someone meant for me.” Brady joked, the words stopping Sam in his tracks.

Well, he couldn’t pass up free food.

Which was how at six o’clock, he somehow found himself standing in his dorm room, dressed in his nicest pair of pants and one of his button downs. Luckily for him, Brady didn’t even bother to change before beckoning Sam out of the room, so there must not be a serious dress code.

They pulled up to a burger place not far from campus. It was a hipster place, with a chalkboard menu and wooden walls, but Sam’s eyes bulged out seeing the food would cost probably five times more than anything he had ever gotten from some small town diner. They ordered and, true to his word, their food was out in record time, with the owner personally coming out to ask Brady how his first day of school had been and to pass on greetings to the rest of his family. After that quick chat, Brady and Sam fell into silence, as Sam was more than correct when he said the two barely knew anything about each other.

“So what’s up with all of this?” Sam asked, waving the hand not holding his burger around.

“With what?” Brady asked innocently, scooping an ambitious amount of ketchup onto his small fry.

Sam raised his eyebrows, not one to be indirect. “Do you usually have to bribe potential friends with dinner?”

“No, usually I make them pay. Their pockets are deep, let me tell you.” If someone like Brady thought that, Sam didn’t even want to know what tax bracket they’re in. “But they are also dumb as hell, so I’m out of options here.”

“Yeah… I’m going to need you to explain that.”

“All my other friends were not very education-motivated, I’ll tell you that. Most of them go to USC or UCLA, but none of them had the GPA to head up to Stanford with me, so I’m starting fresh.”

“In other words, you have no clue how to make friends.” Sam snorted.

“Yeah, if you want to be a dick about it.” He crossed his arms with a huff, but Sam was glad to see the guy wasn’t all sunshine and optimism.

“Well, whatever. Free food is always the way to my heart.”

Brady clinked his glass against Sam’s. “See? Brotherhood.”

True to his word, Brady paid, and Sam no longer dreaded going back to his dorm room.

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day for the beginning of October. Usually, she would be switching to her jeans and sweaters around this point in the year, but in Palo Alto she was relieved that the weather stayed mild all year round. It meant she got to spend her afternoon after classes studying outside, earbuds, and R.E.M CD playing. 

When she went back to the dorm, this meant she was in a better mood than normal. She cleaned her room - something not done frequently - making her bed and sliding her variety of books and school supplies back into her desk. The window was cracked, letting the natural wind cool down the room ever so slightly and bring in the faint scent of the greenery and the bay. She sat on her bed with a book now that all her homework was done, breathing a sigh of relief as she settled in.

The door slammed open, revealing her roommate, fuming. Clearly, she her day had not been as nice as Jess’s, and that was incredibly obvious. Jess wasn’t sure whether to ask or let Rebecca be. That decision did not need to be made, however, as Rebecca made a beeline for her, already talking about the issue.

“Jessica. How is it that we can attend a prestigious school like Stanford University and still end up among a population of men that have such subpar intellect?”

“I’m guessing your Introduction to Psych class went well?” Jess snorted, closing her book and scooting forward to give her full attention. 

“Don’t even get me started.” Despite saying that, Rebecca was already launching into a rant, clearly having spent some time stewing in this frustration. “We are discussing internal and external factors on a person’s psyche and how it would theorhetically influence their decision making, perceptions, and interactions with their environment. Naturally, I argued that how a child is nurtured during their development would have more of an impact on their personality, which I cited with the contemporary research by Collins.”

“Uh huh.” Jess did her best to follow, but psychology was not something she had done extensive research on, so she could only follow the baseline of Rebecca’s argument.

“And some jackoff fraternity brother had to raise his hand and say, ‘I actually believe nature has a stronger impact because there are some biological influences on what we think.’ Like duh, that’s why this is even an argument. And then he sat there all smug as if he had sucessfully debated my points, despite having no real contributions.”

“I can see why you’re mad.” 

“And clearly this breastfed white boy has never had anything but nurture in his life, so he wouldn’t understand the implications of being a product of your environment.”

Jess, coming from where she had, could understand that argument at least. “Did you tell him that?”

Rebecca took a breath - probably her first in minutes - and smirked at Jess. “Of course I did. And you know what he said? Nothing. And that’s how you win a debate.”

The next day had Jess up early, anxious for the day ahead. She did her best to dress as professionally as she could given her limited closet. She left her room fifteen minutes earlier than necessary to make her 7:30 AM appointment with her academic advisor. It was the first available appointment for the day, as she wanted to make sure she had time before her forensics class and every spot for later in the day had been filled already.

When she walked in, she was luckily only directed to sit on the bench and wait for a few minutes before she was brought in. Even though appointments for her classification of concerns was only fifteen minutes, she would take any extra time she could get to reach the anthropology building. 

She was met by a woman with short brown hair, perfectly curled, with pearls on. While she doubted they were real, that still made her feel underdressed in her sweater and high tops. Her advisor led her into a her office just past the front desk. 

“Jessica Moore, nice to officially meet you.” The woman introduced herself, reaching a hand out.

Jess shook it, making eye contact and smiling just like she had been taught. “You as well, Mrs. Madeira.”

“Please.” She gestured to the seat across from her desk. “I have your file pulled up right here. Did you come with any particular questions or did you just want to review your options as someone pursuing a degree in nursing?”

“Both, if you don’t mind.” Jess pulled a notebook out of her bag and placed it on the table, her comments written out in her chicken scratch handwriting. “Firstly, I was wondering how many of your students are able to graduate early? I would love to make the most of my time here, but am also concerned about being able to sustain my finances throughout the four-year program, even with the free tuition granted to me.”

“I completely understand, Jessica. Unfortunately, with the pre-professional track you are on and the necessary requirements to receive a degree in nursing, it is very unlikely. You would need to take upwards of our recommended credit hours every semester, which is difficult. That said, it is not impossible, if you are really passionate about this plan. I would also be happy to point you in the direction of external scholarships that can supplement your scholarship.”

That was what she was afraid of. “Yes, ma’am, I completely understand. My other questions actually had to do with scholarship options available, so if you already plan to offer me information about that, I won’t waste your time.”

“For now, I would just recommend you excell in all of your classes so you can present an impressive transcript. I’ll forward you resources, but feel free to make another appointment if you have any other questions. It was nice to meet you, Jessica.”

“You, as well.”

From there, she headed directly to class despite her bad mood. Both for financial and personal reasons, she had been wanting to graduate as soon as possible so she would be able to actually start her life, but that wasn’t seeming like it would be possible by now. She already was planning on picking up a job later in her school career once she was settled to continue stacking onto her savings from high school to afford non-school necessities, but now it was clear that would be essential. She had gotten work-study approval, but was not thrilled to use it during her first year.

When she got to the room, she tried to take a few deep breaths to avoid letting her bad mood rub off on her lab partner. Sam was nice enough, but she hadn’t known him nearly long enough to stop being worried about first impressions. Instead, she put on as genuine of a smile as she could muster and pushed into the room. Sam was already at their table, sketching in the margins of his notebook as he waited for class to start.

“Hey, Jessica.” Sam smiled at her when she approached him.

“Sam.” She greeted back, slipping into her seat. “How has your day been?” She paused, realizing where she was and the mistake in what she just said. “It’s only eight in the morning. Ignore me. I didn’t get enough sleep last night and was up too early.”

“I probably wasn’t any better. If it helps, I was about to answer your question and didn’t even realize what the problem was.”

She snorted. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

Before she could continue, her professor took to the front of the classroom. She was relieved she wasn’t late, as she hadn’t checked her watch and realized how close she was cutting it to the starting time.

“Good morning everyone and thank you to the majority who graced me with your attendance. I will be assigning your first lab report requirements and providing you with the rubric, so you will be much better off than your tardy classmates.”

She tried not to show her disappointment at a lab report already being assigned, but it turned out not to matter, as many of her classmates were vocal about their irritation. Her professor was more than happy to ignore them, instead trucking on with his instructions.

“I would highly recommend you exchange information with your partners in case any of you were to have questions or need confirmation of data. In addition to that, I will be holding additional office hours this Wednesday at 2pm.”

“Here.” Jess leaned to the side, uncapping her pen with her teeth. She tried her best to make her penmanship legible as she scrawled out Jessica Phone Number: 937-254-7272. “Just in case.”

He didn’t say anything, but she saw him pull out a highlighter and underline it, right there at the top of his notebook. He then swapped it for a pen of his own, writing his at the top of her’s. Sam Phone Number: 866-907-3235. 

“Just in case.” 

Chapter Text

Only one month into school, and Sam was already struggling. Most of his classes had come easily to him, reading classics like The Odyssey and writing interpretive papers about them to weed out those who should change majors. Much to his dismay, his forensics class was the one dragging him down as he struggled to keep up with the amount of information given on a single day. And this was just for his natural sciences general education course. 

His cursor blinked on the screen in front of him as he tried to write his lab report. He was stumped on a part of the first question, which didn’t give him hope for the rest of it.

“Sam.” He kept his head down, intentionally ignoring the calling of his name. “Sam.” It clearly wasn’t going away anytime soon. “Sammmm.”

He finally snapped. “What, Brady?”

“C’mon man, don’t bite my head off. I’m in too good of a mood for that.” The blonde boy laughed, leaning up on the desk next to him.

Unfortunately, as much as Sam tried to resist it, he and Brady had become friends over the past few weeks. He was aloof and casual in a way that was so unlike anyone Sam had ever met. He could relax with Brady, no longer needing to be on the defense like with other hunters, both batting away raunchy jokes and blatant insults, including with his family. That being said, he had a sense of humor that was surprisingly similar to Dean’s, so Sam found it easy to slip into banter with him.

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Well, since you were nice enough to ask…” Sam snorted. “I’m in love.”

Sam raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Uh huh. You’re in love.”

“I’m telling you, I am! I’ve been wanting to tell you for days, but you haven’t been in here.”

“And who is this mystery girl, might I ask?”

Brady sighed and stared off with a level of drama he hadn’t anticipated. “She’s in one of my psychology classes. The one I had on Monday? She sat in the front row with this cute little green tank top and jeans. God, those jeans, Sam, had me weak in the knees. She had curly brown hair and brown skin like a Hershey bar. Did I mention her ass in those jeans?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What’s her name?”

“I’ll find out.” He waved Sam off like that wasn’t a reasonable question to ask. 

“Did you talk to her?”

“Well…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

Sam gave him a knowing look. “What did you do?”

“A debate was started about the difference between nature versus nurture. I said clearly nature won out, as some people were just born with certain beliefs and identities. And she went off on a tangent about how I only know that because I was clearly supported as a kid and that discounts the value of a nurturing community. I tried my best to pay attention, but then she started using all of these words we hadn’t even covered yet, and I think I ended up just drooling.”

Sam was truly in awe. “Wow.”

“I know. I can’t wait for class on Friday.” Brady glanced down and, seeing the computer in front of Sam, finally seemed to realize he was busy. “What are you working on?”

“I’m trying to start my lab report, but I don’t know how well it will go. This isn’t really my area of expertise. I mean it is, because I’m familiar with criminology as a whole, but I don’t really know what to do with the technical and record keeping aspect of all of this” He shut his laptop, frustrated. “Sorry, I know you don’t know either and can’t be any help.”

“Do you know your lab partner?” Sam nodded. “Just call him.” Brady said as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“Her.” He instinctively corrected.

“Even better.” Brady smirked. “You both have the same data, so you might as well work together right?”

He couldn’t deny that his roommate was making sense. As soon as Brady had returned to his side of the room, Sam pulled out his phone and typed in the number written in the top left hand corner of his notebook. 937… Sam noticed her area code wasn’t from around here, not that he recognized it. It made him realize how little he actually knew about her outside of class. Not that it mattered. His fingers hovered over the pad for an embarrassing long time before he figured out the right way to phrase what he wanted to say.

Sam: Hey, it’s Sam from class. Have you started your lab report?

Luckily, she texted back almost immediately.

Jessica: Ugh, no :( Was already stuck on the first question. You?

Sam: Same here. I’m headed to the library, want to work together?

Jessica: Please. You’re a lifesaver! I’m already on the second floor.

And that was that. 

He headed into the library and up the stairs, prepared to search for Jessica. He spotted her at one of the first few tables when he walked in, head buried in a book about public speaking, clearly for another class. Her blonde hair was down, and she kept pausing to push it out of her face; he almost laughed. There was no one else at her table, so he figured he could go ahead and approach her.

He walked up, unsure how to get her attention, but she looked up right as he arrived.

“Sam! So glad you’re here, I already have questions.” She shook her head, embarrassed, before swapping her current homework for her forensic analysis work. “What did you get for the digital summary? I have emails, search history, phone records…” She trailed off, trying to come up with more examples.

“Saved documents?” Sam offered, thinking of the sample of phone numbers lifted from the hypothetical files of their victim.

“Yes! That’s it.” Jessica scribbled down her thoughts on the paper, before chewing at the eraser. 

He countered with, “I couldn’t figure out what underlying assumptions we were expected to know for the tools we used.”

She apparently didn’t know either, which led them into a discussion about possible interpretations. It was the most the two of them had talked since the start of the semester, and he was enthralled by how animatedly she seemed to talk, waving her hands as she made a point. He nodded along even though there were points where he didn’t necessarily get what she was saying. 

Finally coming to a consensus, they turned back to do their own work quietly. Jessica popped in a single earbud, pressing play on a Walkman connected to the other end. He thought of his own sitting by his bed in the dorm, and was instantly jealous that she could fill the silence and he couldn’t.

It was a few minutes later before it was Sam’s turn to ask a question. “I think I’m missing something off the repository, do you have your list?”

“Right here.” She replied, sliding over her notebook without a glance up. 

They continued back and forth, each buried in their own work, but bouncing ideas and questions off of each other whenever something came up. It was nice, he supposed, being able to share research with someone. Dean was thoroughly uninterested in that aspect of their job, and with his dad, there was never much enjoyment. Reviewing a theorhetical crime scene with Jessica here, he could see what he had been missing out on. 

Before too long, he had a rough draft typed up on his computer and his data put in where necessary. All that was left was to review it and make sure it reached the word count and was well written. From the looks of it, Jessica wasn’t too far behind, so he slid his notes and laptop into his bag and slid it onto his shoulder. Making sure he hadn’t left anything out, he stood and brushed the eraser shavings off of his jeans.

“I’m heading out. Just text me if you need anything?” Sam offered, hovering awkwardly by her chair.

“Sounds good, thanks for all your help, Sam.”

He walked out of the library with a small smile. He had his first lab report done and an above civil relationship with his lab partner. He could just… text her if he needed anything. He wanted to get back and tell Brady he was done with his lab report. He had people here at Stanford that didn’t seem to be going anywhere. It was euphoric.

He wanted to tell Dean, though. 

“It’s Dean’s other, other voicemail. You must know what to do.” The phone had dialed before he could even think about it, his brother’s voice immediately recognizeable. Sam hadn’t heard it since… He didn’t want to think about it. He shoved the lump in his throat down and instead tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.

“Hey Dean, it’s me. It’s a month into school and I’m pretty settled in… It’s a very weird feeling. Haven’t heard anything from dad unsurprisingly, so what have the two of you been doing? Stay safe.”

Even the beep of the voicemail box couldn’t lower his mood.

Chapter Text

Professor Nunez was a tenured professor of anthropology at Stanford University, with a specific focus on forensics. He was a certified genius, with years of experience in his field before dedicating his life to educating the youth.

He had no idea how to teach a class of undergraduates that’s for sure.

“How are we supposed to just infer what would be in the identification laboratory?” Jess groaned, flipping over her assignment.

“Well, if he provided you with images and there’s only a certain amount of decay-" Rebecca started to answer, not looking up from her own homework, before pausing. “Oh. That was rhetorical.”

“It’s fine.” She sighed, shoving her papers into her bag. “I’ll just call Sam, see if he knows anything.”

She flipped open her phone, clicking down the list, she found Sam’s number and dialed. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while she gathered up all her stuff and shoved it into her backpack.

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s Jessica.”

“Oh, hey, Jessica.” He sounded mildly confused, not that she could blame him. “What’s up?”

“I totally spaced on the lab report, and now I’m screwed. Please tell me you’re free.”

“Yeah, I am. Same place as last time?” She could hear him getting his stuff together over the other end, and she sighed in relief. “I actually haven’t done it either, I’ve been so busy getting some of my other midterm papers together.”

“That makes me feel better, I would hate to interrupt your night.” She kicked her chair into her desk and zipped up her sweatshirt.

“No, I actually appreciate the excuse. My roommate has been messaging this girl, so… I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Yeah.” An awkward silence fell over the line, so she just ended with a “See you soon!” and hung up.

She headed outside, eternally grateful the library was only a quick walk across the green from her dorm. It was chilly, being early October, but not nearly as bad as she would’ve expected. She passed at least a dozen students headed in the same direction, likely experiencing the same midterm struggle that she was. By some miracle, there was a table open on the second floor that she could steal for her and her lab partner.

She twisted her hair up into a claw clip, keeping everything but her bangs out of her face. If she had to keep brushing back strands all night, she was not going to last long. Once that was done, she could set up her workspace. Pencil to the right, lined paper in front. Assignment to the left, computer in the back center. Water bottle back right, highlighters back left. If it was all in front of her, she could keep it all organized, and keep her head in the game.

Sam joined her a few minutes after, pulling up a chair on her left side. He read over the assignment quickly, before scribbling out some notes in the margins and comparing it to the few thoughts she had outlined. He chewed his lips as he skimmed over, adding some to his own paper, before sitting back.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “What exactly is question two asking from us? I understand we’re supposed to discuss the importance of the identification library in this case, but I’m not getting what would be considered a part of it in this context.”

“So, from my understanding, we are supposed to take the pictures given as reference, anatomically assess which bones they are, and then transfer that into our library. And then in the few passages, I would say pick out what you else you would include in it, and go based on that.” He pointed out, leaning over to look at her printed out rubric.

“Right, because that’s obvious. It’s not like he couldn’t just say that.”

Sam snorted. “No kidding.” He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater before pulling the reference book closer to him on the table. “You’re a biology major, right?”

“Human biology, but close enough. Why?”

“Then you should probably take this.” He slid it over to her. “I know a thing or two about the skeletal system, but that probably doesn’t compare to you.”

“I’m sure you’re great.” She waved him off. “What’s your major? I don’t actually think I know.”

“Comparative lit, minor in folklore and mythology.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never even heard of that! How’d you end up in this class?”

“Partially for a science credit, partially because of personal interest. I hoped it’d be an easy A with my background knowledge, but…”

“Same here. We clearly got the short end of the stick, considering this is one of my hardest classes.”

“Which says something with what you’re probably taking. It is definitely my hardest, but that also doesn’t mean much.”

“I’m sure you’re selling yourself short. What do you want to do with it?”

“Honestly? No clue. But I was thinking maybe pre-law or education.” He picked at the black bracelet on his wrist, blushing slightly. “I should probably have a plan by now, but I only half expected I’d even be able to go to college, so…”

“Me too. Well, the opposite, I guess. College wasn’t a guarantee, so I held onto the idea of nursing as a motivator.”

“From the little I know you, I can totally see it.” He laughed.

“Now if I want to get there, you need to stop distracting me.” She joked, picking up the book. “Bottom left is definitely the femur, next to it I would say is the ulna, considering it doesn’t have the notch.”

They kept going like that for the next few minutes, before switching over to the analytical questions associated with it, addressing what the present and absent bones would mean in the given situation. Sam, surprisingly, knew a good amount about the rates of decay and what stage the remains would’ve had to have been found in, so she was glad additional research wasn’t needed in that regard. Because of that, she got a large amount of it done in the few hours they were there, only needing to do a few paragraphs and editing the next day, to be turned in the day after. Just how she liked it.

She stood up and gathered her stuff, subconsciously rambling. “Now, I get to treat myself to a caramel latte tomorrow morning. I may be a poor college student, but caffeine is non-negotiable and I think I’ve earned it.” She told him, already daydreaming about her order from CoHo. She didn’t have a class until nine, so she had already planned to get up early and make the walk for it.

She gave a happy huff, ready to go. She was in a much better mood than when she had arrived now that she was back on schedule. She waited patiently as Sam followed suit, picking up his books and laptop and sliding them into his messenger bag.

“Tell me about it. I had coffee before we got here and I didn’t even care that it was 7 PM, it was needed.”

She laughed. “No judgement here. See you in class on Friday?”

“Yeah, see you then.” He smiled back at her before heading down the opposite hall as her.

When she got back, she was surprised to see that, instead of in her pajamas and ready for bed, Rebecca was dressed up. Gold hoops, hair left down and natural, with a tube top and low waisted jeans. She was applying cherry lip gloss in the mirror when Jess walked in, making eye contact with her through the reflection.

“Rebecca! Where are you headed?”

“I’m going to a party with some of the other psych girls. The frat SigEp is throwing and my girl Marie has got us an in.” She leaned back from the mirror, smacked her lips, and turned to Jess. “How do I look?

“Amazing, as always. I don’t even know why you ask me, you’ve got much better style.”

Rebecca didn’t argue, as they both knew it was true. Jess in her tan zip up jacket and black yoga pants didn’t compare, which probably caused her roommate to take pity on her and say “you can come if you want!”

Not only did Jess not want to go, but she had a feeling Rebecca didn’t mean it anyway, so she shook her head. “I’m good, but have fun.”

“Thanks, babe.” Her phone buzzed, and slid her phone open. “My ride is here. Catch you later!”

She grabbed her purse off the dresser and headed through the door. With that, Jess was alone in her room. She wasn’t used to having a space like this to herself, so she couldn’t tell if she was relieved to have the alone time or if it just made her feel more isolated.

It didn’t matter, she decided. Mentally debating it wouldn’t make her roommate come back, so she might as well make the best of it. She pulled a well worn copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone out of her bag, flipping to a dog eared page and continuing where she left off. She could make herself busy for the next few hours.