Supernatural is not owned, controlled, operated, or anything else by me.
Thanks to my friends who have advised me, and helped push me into writing more. I wish I could name you all. Also to my Beta, who after telling me things, I went and rewrote huge portions and of course have probably messed it up again. (which I tried to fix, and reupload)
This popped into my head one night, when I was trying to sleep. Yep, maybe that's why it came out this way.
Jessica couldn't believe Sam just LEFT that way. They heard nothing from his brother Dean for a year and a half, and then Dean just SHOWED UP. Broken in late at night, and Sam and Dean had fought. When it had become quiet after all the crashing, curiosity had overcome her caution and she had crept out to see who it was. Dean said he needed Sam's help, and Sam just up and left with him. Jessica sat down on the bed, after hearing the front door close quietly behind him. He was never this irresponsible! Although he promised he would be back by Monday for his interview, and he had never broken a promise before.
Sam was sure acting strange with Dean here. Okay, sure, Dean was extra cocky around her – she sure didn't miss getting hit on by every guy in the area. Of course Dean loved the Smurfs. She rolled her eyes, now that she was alone. Everyone at Stanford knew Sam and Jessica were an item. No one messed with her now. Well, not since a little over a year ago, when it became pretty obvious they were an item. They even rented their apartment together; things were going so great between them. This was their last year together at Stanford, although Sam was going for a law degree so hopefully he was staying longer in Stanford Law School. That was fine by them both – Sam was going to live his dream, and Jessica would start her dream as an accountant.
She was pretty positive he was gathering his nerve to ask her to marry him. She'd even talked with Becky about it, and secretly she was thrilled with the idea of a late spring wedding. That was, if Sam asked her to marry him at Christmas. They were planning on doing Christmas Eve by themselves, before driving up to see her parents on Christmas morning. Sam had promised Jess that only being with her family was okay by him. It seemed his family doesn't do anything for the holidays.
Sam never really talked about his family, or his past. While infuriating, it added to his mysterious vibe. After this weekend, though, she was sitting Sam down and causing him to come clean about Dean and their dad! Something just felt off about this trip. Sam never left her behind to talk with someone else in private. They were a team now, together. He had told her that over the summer, with a special emphasis in his eyes that made her wonder at it.
Jessica sighed, and glanced back to the clock. Well, she could get a few more hours of sleep, before the meet up with some friends. She would just ask around later about Dean, to see if anyone had met Sam's brother before. Snuggling down between the cooled sheets, Jessica wished she knew what was going on. What could it be?
"Hey, Brady, you knew Sam before me. Had you ever met his brother Dean?" The blonde girlfriend of Sam's interrupted Brady's musing, sliding into a chair across the table from him as he lifted his head to glance at her in interest.
"Sam's older brother? Dean Winchester?" Brady wanted to clarify, as a thought came to him.
Jessica nodded her head, half biting her lower lip. She was trying to remain cool, but he could tell there were signs that she was dying of curiosity to know more about Dean. The clasped hands, and the slight tapping of one finger were dead giveaways.
"No, actually, I haven't." Yet. "Sorry, Jess. Why do you want to know?" Brady finished shoveling food he'd been in the process of eating and gave her his full attention. It was tiresome, this eating, but necessary to look human. This was information he might be able to pass along.
"Dean showed up in the middle of the night last night – middle of the night, mind you! – and Sam just took off with him." Jess' words came pouring out, as if she needed an outlet for whatever her mind had been thinking.
Brady swallowed, before taking a swallow of Coke. "Why?" Brady leaned back in his chair, trying not to show excitement. Almost two years he had the detail of watching Sam Winchester, and this was one of the few times he thought might be interesting. Well, it had been interesting when Sam had tried to "rescue" him from flunking out of pre-med, but that was more mind games than torture. Brady was almost salivating; could it be time for torture? Yet if Dean were here, that might be a complication. Could he be hunting something? Brady wondered briefly what the Winchester could be after.
"Dean had said that he needed Sam to help him find their dad." Jessica shrugged one shoulder. "Sam said he was up at the hunting cabin, and probably drunk, but that he'd go help bring him back. I'm just worried about his interview coming up on Monday for law school here at Stanford. He'll be great and get in with a free ride, I know he will!"
News all around, then. Brady nodded at Jess, pretending he is sympathizing with her. "So, Sam'll be back before his interview then, right? He's trustworthy."
Jessica nods her head, bobbing it up and down slightly. "Sam is trustworthy; I just don't know about Dean." One shoulder hunched up, and she crossed her arms across her chest, before standing up again. "I guess I was just wondering about Sam's family, that's all." She blushed over her admission, and with her blond hair and clear skin her face lit up a pretty shade of red.
"Sorry I don't know more," Brady told her, carefully taking another bite of food, watching as she tilted her head forward for her hair to hide her face before moving off. Now to go make a phone call. Hopefully, this phone call was what he had been waiting for.
Since this was news Azazel would want to hear, Brady found someone off the main campus so as to not call attention to himself. The last call he'd done ruffled too much campus security. He checked the area out, before making his movie. The older man wouldn't be noticed, being homeless. Brady caught the body before it fell completely over. He double-checked the area again. Putting the cup up to the ugly slash to catch the sluggishly flowing blood, he smiled. He was counting on his days of quietly watching one Sam Winchester were finally over.
Stirring the blood in the cup with one finger, Brady chanted the needed words before a whisper came back to him.
"Dean Winchester came by in the middle of the night to pick up his brother Sam. It seemed they are looking for John."
Brady listened carefully for the whisper of acknowledgement.
"Sam is supposed to be back at Stanford by Monday for a law school interview. He's getting ready to settle down with Jessica Moore, although he has not brought the engagement ring yet." He added that last part in his report, knowing there was still time before Sam took that final step with Jessica. Brady's mind flashed back to a slightly flustered stammering Sam asking him what stone Brady thought Jess might like best. As if Brady cared!
The whisper was loud, and angry, as Brady pulled back from the cup of blood. But the instructions were clear, and Brady answered gleefully.
"I will gladly take on that job, and make sure he sees what he needs to see, sir."
The whisper acknowledged, and all became quiet.
Brady smiled, pouring out the blood over the body, before he stood up and walked away. He had a job to do, one in which he would be happy to accomplish.
Jessica had decided she was going to behave as if Sam had gone off with Dean on a regular basis, instead of this one time. Saturday night Jess had called him, hoping to hear his voice reassure her that he would be back in time. "Hey, it's me, it's about 10:20 Saturday night – " She wondered what could possibly be going on that Sam couldn't answer the phone. "I just wanted to say that I miss you, and hope you find your dad okay. So come home soon, okay? I love you." She hung up.
She even baked cookies for Sam, knowing his favorite was chocolate chip. No one in his circle of friends knew anything more about Dean, not more than she herself did, so she had to trust Sam would be back in time. She scrawled a quick note next to the plate that he would see when he came home. "Missed you! Love you!" She even left out the latest National Geographic for him. Sam liked them, so she'd been making a point of handing them over when they first came in the mail.
Late Sunday evening, almost midnight, the knock came at the door. Jess had slipped a white nightdress on; she wanted to make an impression on Sam when he came home. Wrinkling her nose at herself, she hoped he would like it. However, she was disappointed. It was just Brady. Biting back a wistful sigh – she'd hoped it was Dean, bringing Sam back - she stepped back from the doorway. With her mind on Dean, Jess waved a hand to invite Brady in.
Brady stepped into the apartment, giving her an odd look at her outfit, his eyes strangely flashing to a complete black, before he forcibly waved his hand at her. Unbelievably, she found herself flung across the apartment, sliding across the wooden floor into the bedroom, coming to a complete stop only when she hit the far wall. Scrambling to get her feet under her and untangled from the dress, Jessica tried to edge away from Brady. He stepped through the doorway into the bedroom, held up his arm straight towards her, and she was pressed tightly against the wall. With so much pressure on her, Jessica could not move.
"What - ?" She tried to gasp, before Brady shook his head, grinning at her savagely. Was he – enjoying this?
"No, I don't want to hear anything." With that strange pronouncement, she was lifted up. Sliding straight up the wall, then across the ceiling, she was held in place by this strange suffocating power of Brady's. It was almost as if gravity had been reversed, that she was tightly pinned up. She tried moving one leg, only to have it bend rather awkwardly back down. Rather, up, on the ceiling. Brady stepped over to the bathroom, and after a minute flipping on the light and almost shutting the door. The whole thing was rather surreal. He was watching from the bathroom, like in all those stalker movies Sam hated. It felt as if Brady had planned this, to wait until Sam came home. In the silence she heard an angry beast of an engine roar, starting up and driving away. Jess' heart was hammering a mile a minute, and then she heard the front door open.
Sam was back.
Jessica tried to open her mouth to yell, to scream, to somehow warn Sam that something was horribly wrong, but no sound was coming out. A burning sensation sliced across her stomach. Jess tried to pull her head up - down? - to see what had happened, but she couldn't see anything from that awkward angle. She only figured out that she was bleeding when she felt warm liquid spreading stickily over her previously pristine gown. She struggled, but it was severely limiting and the pain from the abdominal area prevented too much movement. She just couldn't figure out why. There was no other explanation for what Brady was doing, except that Brady was deliberately torturing her. But why do this now, when Sam showed up? It was almost as if he expected Sam to come home now – was waiting for him, actually. But why?
"Jess?" Sam called out. It echoed eerily in their apartment. She could hear Sam in the other room, and yet could do nothing about it. It tore at her emotionally, just as much as her skin had been torn. It was all so terrifying. The sound of the front door closing, then he called again. "You home?"
Soft footsteps were heard crossing the living area, pausing. That cute little sigh she loved. She could almost picture what he was doing - at the kitchen counter, picking out a cookie to eat. Would he pick up the magazine to read? With no other sound in the apartment, everything Sam did seemed terrifyingly loud. At least, until Brady turned the squeaky knob to turn on the shower in the bathroom. It was incongruous with the whole situation, and so very, very wrong. She tried to move an arm, but no luck. She could almost hear the bite Sam took of the cookie, then he stepped into the bedroom they shared together. Still eating, Sam placed his duffle bag on the dresser. Jess could only watch her beloved, as she was pinned and quieted. Tears sprang in her eyes, making her vision swim just a bit. He was looking towards the bathroom, hearing the shower that Brady had started, as he moved with easy grace over to their bed. Sam sat down heavily on the bed, finished the cookie he was eating, sighed that cute sigh once more, before he laid back with his eyes closed. He exhaled, stretching out before crossing his arms under his head, completely and totally relaxed and content. Another exhalation. It seemed too loud, too wrong, now, -No! Sam! - with what was happening. What he didn't know was happening. Helplessly she could only watch him below as her blood from her torn stomach pooled before it dripped down and landed on Sam's forehead.
One drop.
Two drops. Sam's eyes slowly opened up to stare at her, fastened to the ceiling. He could see her! She tried once more to push sound from her open mouth, to call out to him, but heat exploded behind her.
She was cut open, trapped on the ceiling, and she suddenly realized she was on fire … with Sam below her not being able to do anything about it.
"Nooooo!" Sam called out in anguish.
The door to the apartment came crashing open with a loud bang, as a call came echoing through the apartment. "SAM!"
"JESS!" Sam screamed, as he raised his arm to shield his face, rising up on one arm – she could hear him above the roar of the flames right behind her head, and thought wildly that this was the last thing she'll ever see – Sam trying to hide from her.
But that was not to be.
The flames licked out behind her faster than she thought possible It seemed perhaps the entire ceiling was on fire, although she couldn't know that for sure. The heat and noise was surrounding her, not just behind her now, but coming from the walls too. Dimly, through the excruciating pain, she saw Dean pausing at the doorway to their bedroom. The other voice calls out strongly through the flames - "Sam! SAM!"
Sam was still calling, "No! NO!" as if he could stop what he was seeing, just by declaring it so. She could tell he could not believe that this was happening, denying the truth of what was happening, even as it was devouring her.
The one person she had been half upset with, half curious about, all weekend, and he was there. Knowing she was dying, knowing she could no longer be with Sam - with all their dreams and plans - even hurting as much as she was, suddenly she was excessively glad to see Sam's brother. Dean. Dean will have to look after Sam now; he could be there for her beloved.
Dean, after taking everything in a glance, raced over to the bed. He forcibly grabbed Sam up and off the bed, twisting to put himself between Sam and the flames. Using his weight and momentum, Dean pushed him out the door, because Sam did not want to - could not - leave her. Dean risked his life to save Sam - Sam was safe. She knew this, before she knew no more.