We thought it would be easy.

It's been just a couple of weeks since Haven burnt down and Sam's been staying at Ellen and Bobby's place trying to help with the paperwork. Mostly, he thinks, he's really just been being watched by Ellen, but he can't really begrudge her when he knows that, left to his own devices, he'd be out on the street looking for some chemical assistance to forget all this. He can remember a time when he used to be able to handle stress and misfortune. That's been years now; his coping skills have long since been withered away under drug use and self-loathing.

Still, he's been trying. It's a white-knuckling process, but he's doing his best. Ellen keeps him busy as much as she can, and that helps, but at night his skin crawls as he lays awake in bed. Sometimes he manages to sleep and he wakes in a sweat from dreams of flames and screaming accusations. Nobody's blaming him, but he's blaming himself. Jinxed it. Somehow, he made it all go wrong.

Tonight, he's trying to play the straight and normal card, though. Ellen's invited Dean and Cas over for dinner and Sam hasn't seen a lot of them since the fire. He knows he could have gone back to Dean's place, but he feels like a burden there. Ellen wants him here and has the extra space. It doesn't make him feel like any less of a burden, but at least he isn't putting anyone out of their bed, here.

He really does miss the dog, though...

It's getting close to dinner time, so Sam wanders into the kitchen to see if there is anything Ellen needs help with. His brother and Cas should be arriving soon. In another situation, he might doubt Dean's ability to be on time, but when Ellen's food is on the line, Dean is right on the spot.

"Hey, Ellen. Need anything?"