Meme fic for Misty, who asked for Sam/Dean/Jess. Instead, she got Sam/Jess with a side order of voyeur!Dean. AU &c.
Flight Into
Somehow they get her out alive. Dean doesn't know how and neither does Sam, he has no idea what occurs in that instant when the demon recoils from him, yellow eyes widened with shock and mouth twisted painfully, but whatever it is they take their chance and drag her outside and run and keep running.
Jess is half mad with fear that first night, sobbing and clinging to Sam and trying to ask what the hell is going on but not able to form the words; Sam holds her tightly, arms around her and fingers buried in her bright hair, tells her it'll be all right and rocks them both back and forth until she quiets, her sobs dying to shivers. Dean steers the Impala through the dark, fingers not quite shaking on the wheel and eyes not quite lingering on the rear view mirror, on the pair of them curled against each other like lost children, babes in the woods, the horror of it all draining away until they're asleep in each other's arms.
They run, because there's nothing else they can do; the demon killed their mom and Dean's not going to let it kill Sam's girlfriend too, not going to let the bastard ruin Sam's life all over again. But they have no way to stop it yet, no way to kill it, and they can't face that monster unprepared; they have to retreat, and regroup, and most importantly, find Dad. Sam fills Jess in on the brutal facts as they drive, and she listens, pale and attentive, and when she catches Dean's eye in the rear view he nods his assent; it's true, all of it's true, god how he wishes it wasn't, and if they don't keep moving she's going to die in blood and fire and agony, because that bastard demon won't give up. In the end she accepts it all easily enough, says "okay, okay" and gives a sort of shuddering sigh, because really what else can she do?
There are motel rooms, too many of them: they don't dare stay in the same place more than one night, and they don't dare stay in separate rooms, however uncomfortable the situation might be. Every night they eat fast food and Sam and Dean scour Dad's journal for any clues as to how they can kill the demon, trap it, send it back to hell. And fuck, but Dean doesn't know how he did this without Sammy around, he's so much quicker and sharper with these things, cross-referencing and checking and finding corroborating details online with a few clicks. Dean feels a warmth in the pit of his stomach, because by whatever nasty means he's got his brother back, and a corresponding possessive jealousy, because Sam's not his brother anymore but Jess' boyfriend, and he knows both these feelings are selfish and weirdly wrong.
He wants to be happy for Sam - he is, mostly - but late at night when the notes are packed away and the lights are off he can hear them moving against each other in the narrow bed beside his, trying to be quiet, stifling soft sounds, and he wonders spitefully what the hell Sam ever did to deserve such a taste of normalcy, and who the hell Jess thinks she is to take his brother away. And he knows that if he wasn't so selfish he'd give them space, safety in numbers be damned, would go for a walk and find somewhere else to sleep, like a stray dog, some warm willing body to curl up against.
But he doesn't, and he is that selfish, that jealous, so instead he lies there in the dark and jerks off silently, listening to those little whimpers and gasps, trying to imagine himself there, except he can't decide which one of them he wants to replace, falls asleep and dreams of yellow eyes and an old gun.
And in the morning they drive on, Sam and Jess in the back seat, and Dean's fingers don't tremble on the wheel, and he doesn't glance too often in the rear view mirror. He wonders if maybe the demon hasn't found them already.