"Parker, please - we need to talk about this," Sam said from the other side of the door.

Rolling my eyes irritably, I continued to ignore him as I applied the eyeliner around my dark brown eyes. We were so not doing this. But apparently, he didn't understand the meaning of ignoring because five seconds later, rapid pounding on the hard wood came again, this time more insistent. A groan emitted from my throat and I stomped over to the door then, nearly wrenching the knob right off the thing as I swung it open, glowering at my best friend standing just in the doorway. His eyes widened at my angry state and took a voluntary step back.

"Samuel, leave me alone, will you?!" I shouted at him, glaring daggers his way.

But he didn't waver, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance, "No, okay? No, we need to talk about this. I know that-"

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," I deadpanned in Ygritte's accent, earning a glare from Sam.

"Parks-" he started but I cut him off with a wave of my hand as I brushed past him to grab my leather jacket off the bed.

"I said no, Sammy," I insisted, huffing as the leather slid over my arms, covering my Sugarcult t-shirt.

His hand caught my wrist then but his grip was gentle as he spun me to face him, his tall figure towering over me. At this close proximity, I could see every fleck of green and brown hues in his eyes, making my heart skip a beat. But only for a moment before I pulled back.

"Parker...this..." he sighed then, faltering as he took a deep breath before continuing, "This baby is mine,"

"We don't know that," I whispered, shaking my head as tears threatened to cloud my eyes.

"Really? 'Cause the last time we saw each other-" he started and I waved a hand, cutting him off.

"I know... Sam, it's...I just don't wanna discuss this, okay? The baby is Dean's. I'm carrying Dean's child...not yours," I told him vehemently, my words near-whisper at the end.

A flash of hurt crossed Sam's face as if I'd slapped him. Instantly, I regretted my words but I didn't dare try to take them back. It was the truth, after all...wasn't it?

"Yeah? Does Dean know that?" he bit out harshly, making me purse my lips in anger.

"Don't you do that," I said, shaking my head at him, "Don't you make this about something it's not,"

"You mean us?" he scoffed before stepping close to me again, my eyes fluttering shut involuntarily as I felt his warm breath tickle my skin, "You know, you may be married to Dean now but...I still remember when you said it was you and me forever,"

"Sammy...don't," I begged in a pleading whisper, only audible to him since he was standing so close.

His hands rested on my hips then, fingers tracing the slivers of bare skin peeking out from underneath my t-shirt. It felt like fire. His nose brushed against mine then, wisps of shaggy brown hair barely touching my cheeks.

"Cause I can prove to you that you still have feelings for me, Parker." Sam said softly, his words sincere and heartfelt.

And for a moment, I forgot everything. I shouldn't have - I knew it was wrong. My heart was telling me stop the entire time but all I could feel was his warmth surrounding me. And just like that, his lips met mine in a perfect kiss - his mouth soft like rose petals on mine, tasting like chocolate and vanilla. I won't lie - I lost myself in it, in Sam. In the memory of something long-forgotten like a summer day when I had no worries, no cares.

Or rather...when I had forced the worries from my mind, when I had convinced myself that loving Sam was right. That I could live that apple-pie life with him. But I had been wrong. Wrong then and wrong now. Because I never loved Sam that way - not the way he had fallen in love with me. And a part of me hated myself for it - for letting it get this far, for letting him develop feelings I could never return.

I was lonely, miserable, depressed. And I found comfort in Sam's arms - contentment. But I'd never been happier than when I was with Dean. And no matter what, what we had...he just wasn't Dean. I was about to pull away then, to rip myself free from this completely when a sudden noise disrupted us. Springing apart like someone had just lit us on fire, we pulled away from each other to glance...into the green eyes of none other than Dean.

If you could die of despair from one look...I would have been dead on the spot.

Because the look of hurt, shock, and betrayal on Dean's face...it made me wish that I had been the one to go to Purgatory. And I rather would have instead of having to see that look on his face.

What had I done?