Author's note: The title of the story is a direct reference to M83's song, "Skin of the Night".
Summary: Pre-pilot AU. Sam goes on a hunt and unintentionally involves Jessica in the family business; she later decides to join the hunt.
Jessica sits up in the bed, a balled fist working at her eye to clear the sleep from it. In her groggy vision, she can see a blurred streak of light on the ground and walls from the hallway bathroom. Sam's up again, she thinks. He's probably had another nightmare, or maybe it's one of those nights of staring at Dean's contact in his phone. She stands up, smooths out her crumpled nightgown and carefully tiptoes to the bathroom. To her surprise, the room is vacant.
The soft murmur of a hushed voice reaches Jess's hearing, guiding her to its location in the apartment. It sounds like he's on the phone, and from the tone of his voice, he's trying to calm someone down. Her squinted eyes manage flip to the clock - 2:47 A.M.
"Sam?" Jessica finally makes her presence known, and it makes Sam jump so hard he fumbles with the cellphone in his grasp.
"Jess," He breathes with relief after clapping a hand over the bottom of his phone. He seems genuinely startled by her announcement, which is incredibly hard to do. She's spent months trying to give him a friendly spook from behind, and every time he manages to turn around and catch her. She'd grumble and ask how he could hear her, and Sam would laugh and brush it off as good hearing; but the way he always checks his back was hard not to notice. Maybe he thinks that she's dumber than she actually is - and, if he does think that, he's got one hell of a slap coming. But she knows better than to assume something like that.
Sam's hazel eyes are wide as they meet hers. He looks like he's been awake for a while. "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Jessica chides sternly. Her tensed shoulders slack a little when she sees the guilt in his expression. Her eyes flip to the phone in his grip with curiosity.
Sam immediately picks up on her inquiring expression. "It's Steven, from my psych class. He says his girlfriend went on some dare to an abandoned hospital, and she's been gone for a day now." Jessica's expression twists empathetically and she steps closer to him, reaching out a hand to rest on his back. "Maybe she's trying to pull a prank?" She asks.
"He said no one's heard from her, not even the friends she went with." Jessica's eyebrows knit together in concern. There was an urban legend about that abandoned hospital just outside of Palo Alto, but very few people dared to go check it out for themselves. In fact, not very many people seemed to return from their visit. She never believed those stories, though; she wasn't one for urban legends.
"Hey, Steven?" He brings the phone back to his ear. Even she can hear the panic in his friend's voice through the small speaker. "I know- I'm sorry. Listen, don't worry, okay? I'll go check it out. I'll find her."
"Are you nuts?" Jess quickly objects, and Sam turns to throw her a look.
"I'll keep you updated. Don't worry. Talk to you soon." He ends the call and fully faces her, ready to take on the barrage of questions.
"You- you do realize that it's nearly 3 in the morning, right?"
"Jess, someone has to do something."
"Yeah, that's why you call the cops, not wander in there by yourself! Listen, Sam, I know Steven's your friend - but you can't take off in the dead of night to investigate some creepy abandoned building. Especially when you know that someone is missing." She can tell she's losing this battle, because Sam isn't budging. It always was hard to talk him out of something he had his heart set on.
"You of all people should know that the authorities won't get involved in something like this at 3 a.m."
Jessica opens her mouth to remark, but by the look on Sam's face, she knows nothing's gonna deter him. Damn, he was good at using logic to talk himself into a situation, rather than out of it. He was right; her father, a retired policeman of 5 years, used to get panicked calls for missing friends all the time. There wasn't much an officer could do or say, since 7 times out of 10, they were false alarms and the person wasn't near a telephone, lost reception, or just stayed at their friend's house for the night.
"Winchester, I'm mad at you," she resigns under her breath. He steps close to her and presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.
"I'll be back before you know it," Sam's voice trails from across the room in his hurry.
There was barely enough time for him to rummage through the prepacked duffel from the bedroom closet, but he had to be sure that everything he needed was right where he left it.
"You're not wasting any time," Jessica comments,crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the doorway. Reflexively, Sam pulls a shirt in his bag over the guns at the bottom. He glances back for a split second, and when she stays put, he continues to check the weapons and ammunition.
"Yeah, well...the faster I find her, the faster Steven can relax."
"I really don't want you to go by yourself." She wastes no time getting right to the point. Sam takes in a deep breath, zips up the bag, and slings it over his shoulder. He's to his feet and walking towards her in no time.
"I'll be okay, Jess. I promise. I've got my phone with me, and you know I'll call." He gives her a soft smile and gently rubs her upper arm. "You've got a big test tomorrow."
"You better call," Jessica stands on her toes and gives him a soft kiss, "or I'll be even more angry with you."
"I wouldn't want that, would I?" He quips. He quickly returns the kiss and brushes past her, heading for the door.
"I love you!" She calls from the bedroom, and smiles with ease as he shouts an 'i love you too' before the front door closes.
"Yeah, I got here safe. No, I don't see anyone else- I think they booked it. Yeah, no cops either, that's a surprise." The icy December air nipped at the exposed skin on Sam's hands and face, earning a harsh shiver. "Of course I will, Jess. I'm just gonna run in real quick and see if she's still here. Maybe she went back to Lyn's dorm, since she came with her. I don't know, maybe it was an attempt to distance herself from Steven? Who knows, girls are a mystery." He grins and flinches at her empty threat to hit him, even though she's just a voice on the phone. "I'm joking! Anyways, yeah. I'll call you later, okay? Love you too. Bye, Jess." He stays on the phone long enough to hear her cut the line, stuffs his cellphone in his jacket pocket, then closes the trunk to the champagne-colored Corola with his bag in tow. Seriously, who the hell goes into an abandoned building with nothing to protect themselves? Sam knows that not everyone knows or believes in the supernatural - but you'd think they'd have some kind of insight to protect themselves from potential cultists or serial killers.
One of Sam's least favorite parts of going on hunts was the cobwebs, dust, and dirt he had to deal with. Well, besides the fact that he had the shittiest job on the planet. He just wished that the damn monsters would take care of their stupid lairs. He bats a few webs out of his face with the barrel of his sawed-off and clicks on his flashlight. The place was just as musty as the rumor described - grit and grime was caked in the floor tiling's cracks. Mold splotched the broken ceilings, and bits of broken railings and support beams lay astray on the ground. There were a few gurneys littered in the front lobby, along with other medical supplies such as uncapped needles and IVs. A few of the light fixtures hang from the ceiling. As far as he could tell, there wasn't anyone in here, but there were stories to this hospital. He inwardly curses. This would be a whole hell of a lot easier if he had Dean with him.
His heart aches. He's been meaning to call Dean to catch up with him, but he wouldn't know what to say. It's hard to express how much he misses his brother without sounding like he regrets taking off to Stanford. He hated hunting - he always has - but he can't help but miss his brother. He was the only family he knew.
The sound of metal scraping against tile draws Sam out of his weary introspection. He raises the shotgun protectively and shines the flashlight around. There wasn't any threat he could see, other than the source of the sound - an overturned, rusty gurney. It's wheels were still turning.
"Kelly?" He questions. There wasn't a reply. For a minute, the air stills and he can't hear anything other than his own breathing.
A heavy force crashes into Sam and sends him across the room. He hits the wall, cracks the plaster, and begins to slide to the floor. A firm hand grasps his throat, taking all of his weight with ease, and picks him off of his feet. He gasps for the air forced from his constricted airways, his hands gripping at his attacker's wrist. Air, he thinks, I need air.
Once the eye-watering pain from his collision starts to subside, Sam can finally begin to make out the face in front of him. It's a man; his body is covered in dark, tribal tattoos, and his eyes were electric. His dad's journal had a page on these creatures - djinn.
"Shhh," the man whispers, his voice an enticing murmur. Somehow, it manages to make Sam relax in the slightest. "It's okay. You've always wanted a perfect life, right? It's okay," His fingertips spark with blue energy and Sam fights him the most he can in the condition he's in. He's sure that the impact of his head against the wall left some kind of concussion.
"Relax. It's alright," his fingertips sweep across Sam's bangs and gently press against his temples. Sam's body tenses - every muscle in his body tightening with the power flowing from the djinn's fingertips into his head. Once hazel eyes begin to now faintly glow blue as the djinn digs through the deepest recesses of his mind. The creature sifts through countless memories - Dean teaching him how to drive when their dad was on a hunt, the first time he met Jess in the library while trying to cram for exams, helping Brady trying to cope with his overwhelming alcoholism - until finally, he finds the part of Sam's brain that hides his desires and fantasies.
"You're a complex man, Sam," the djinn comments. "But since I'm so generous...I'll give you the best life you could possibly imagine."
Sam's hand tries to sneak into his pocket to call for Dean, for Jess- anyone that could help him. To his dismay and limited mobility, the cellphone falls from his weak grip and clatters to the ground.
"Oh, Sam," the djinn clicks his tongue in disappointment. "Shouldn't have left that silver knife in the glovebox. You're really regretting not calling Dean, now, aren't you? I saw that you thought about calling him before you came in here. But it's okay; Dean'll forgive you for your mistakes in your new life."
The djinn crushes the phone under his foot and grins at Sam. The brunette sputters, his vision graying out - until finally - he falls limp in the djinn's hand to unconsciousness.