A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic, it is however already written. I don't own any of the supernatural characters, although I wish I did. Thank you to Bartlebead for taking the time to beta this for me, you are much appreciated.
Chapter 1
The rain beat down endlessly, relentlessly tapping against the windows in a soothing staccato before sliding down the clear panes, small droplets all migrating together. Separately each raindrop looked insignificant, but together they could become a flood. Jessica had always marveled at and respected the power of water.
She sat comfortably in the crook of the old couch, her knees drawn up to her chest; warm fuzzy socks, in all their bright gaudy glory adorning her feet. Jess sighed in contentment as she watched the storm replenish the earth. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine her mother was in the room with her. My, but the earth was thirsty today, Jessie girl. It certainly was Momma, she thought, and so am I.
Rising from her perch, Jessica stretched, reaching over her head to feel her muscles tense and release. Rolling her shoulders, then her neck, she walked noiselessly across the carpeted floor on her quest to the kitchen. Hot tea, she mused, would so complete the day right now. Jessica had been on a mission for comfort all day. She figured it had been a pretty successful endeavor so far, the only casualty being her Early American Lit paper. But, hey, she worked better under pressure anyway, and she still had roughly thirty seven hours until it was due.
Yep, still time for relaxation, some hot tea, pajamas, and quiet moments spent watching the storm. Damn near perfect. All she needed now was Sam. But her Type A perfectionist boyfriend was currently holed up in the library across campus, probably finding as much happiness researching and studying among the dusty tomes as she did in watching the rain. Well, she wasn't going out into the storm to bring him home, but she could call him.
Jessica sipped her tea as she listened to the ringing of the phone. On her end it was just normal ringing, but she knew on Sam's end everyone in the library was currently being treated to Heaven is a place on Earth by Belinda Carsile. She knew this because just last night Jessica had stolen Sam's phone and downloaded the awesome 80s hit to designate her specific ringtone, and then changed it from "vibrate" to high volume. Giggling softly, she imagined the blush creeping across Sam's cheeks as he fumbled out of his study- induced stupor to silence the phone.
"Hello," came the strained whisper over the line.
"Baby, when are you coming home? You've been there all day, I think even brilliant prospective lawyers deserve a break every now and again."
"Jess, I need to finish,"…ahhh chooo "this research for Monday's presentation."
"Sam, honey, I think you're getting sick, probably all that running around in the rain, followed by breathing library dust all day. Come home, we'll lie around, relax, we'll wallow, it'll be great. If you're a good boy and take your cough medicine I'll make you chocolate chip cookies…" Jessica idly twisted a strand of blond hair around her fingers while she waited.
Sam never could really deny her anything, especially when she promised food. The boy was always happy to eat her home cooking, - even when she burnt it. She loved watching his appreciation play over his features as he savored every bite; he always finished it too, never left a crumb. It made Jessica glad her momma had taught her and her sister basic cooking skills. The first thing Jessica had done when she and Sam moved in together was to go and buy several cookbooks. Baking had always been more her forte, but suddenly she wanted to feed Sam. Sometimes he reminded her of a lost little boy and she wanted to take care of him.
"Yeah, okay. I'll see you in a few. I love you."
"Love you too, baby." Jessica heard one wet sniff into the phone before Sam disconnected the call. He didn't sound very good and for a moment worry over Sam's health overcame Jessica and made her breath hitch. He'd gotten sick last spring too. He'd blamed it on weather and seasonal changes, but Jessica knew the truth. He'd worked himself to the bone and gotten rundown. Sometimes Sam would forget to sleep, shower, or eat if he was really immersed in a project. Eventually he'd emerge, and like a starving man, he'd converge on Jessica and the kitchen, not necessarily in that order.
One time he'd slammed the book shut and then looked at Jessica as though he hadn't seen her in days, (which he really hadn't). He'd crossed the room in three giant strides and taken her to shower with him. After, they'd lain in bed and eaten cold Chinese takeout until they were satisfied. They'd spent the rest of the night sating each other in different ways. Sam had roguishly vowed never to research again, instead declaring Jessica to be his next concentrated study. Jessica had just laughed and affectionately tousled his soft dark hair; she knew she'd have his whole attention at least until the next project or paper. He always came back to her though no matter how involved he was in his studies.
Jessica didn't mind. She had a heavy course load too. Jessica was going to be a teacher, mold the next generation as her Dad said. She loved her brilliant Sam, admired his dedication and thoroughness, but often she wished he'd take better care of himself. That spring he'd gotten really sick and was stuck at home for almost two weeks recuperating. There had been a really scary 48 hours where he'd languished with a fever and Jessica hadn't known what to do. Eventually with the help of some of their other friends they'd managed to get Sam to the ER and one prescription later coupled with copious amounts of chicken noodle soup and rest, he'd recovered.
But Jessica still remembered what Sam had looked like sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, eyes fever bright and unfocused.
Once again uncurling from the couch, she walked into the kitchen intent on finding the ingredients for Sam's favorite cookies. Jessica flipped on the radio as she walked past, and began to hum along with the tune. Familiar with her kitchen and the activity, she began arranging the items together on the counter. Good, she had everything she needed. Twenty minutes later the glorious smell of baking chocolate scented the air.
The rain was unapologetically pouring. Even if Sam had walked, Jessica mused, he should be almost home. His long legs ate up distance and he was certainly fit enough to handle the brisk wet adventure, even if he was feeling under the weather.
Sam's athleticism and his intellect were another of those contradictions about her boyfriend that Jessica loved so much. Not to say that athletic people couldn't be smart as well, but she had just never seen an individual who was so extremely dedicated to maintaining both. Sam managed both areas of his life with an iron control that sometimes bordered on obsessive. He ran, every day, and did this almost military morning regime of pushups, chin ups, and sit-ups. He made it a point to stay in excellent shape and -when he remembered to eat- he always ate well; Sam understood the importance of well balanced diet. This was why Jessica could never understand how he would get so sick so easily, it was almost as if he refused to admit he was ill until the illness dragged him under.
He cared for and used his brain as well as he did his body. Sam volunteered for extra research projects with his favorite professors on top of his current rigorous required schedule. He always studied, sat in the front of the class, and contributed. Karrie, one of Jessica's best friends, had always teased Jessica about Sam being perfect. And he was, to Jessica, but she was not above realizing his faults either.
She just loved him faults and all.
He was stubborn, extremely stubborn. Once Sam had decided on something he could not be swayed, and sometimes Jessica thought he could be a teensy bit self-righteous. She considered it to be her obligation to say, "You're being an ass Sam." He would grumble but shut up, and later nuzzle that sweet spot on the back of her neck as he conceded her victory and intelligence in all things.
His biggest fault, in Jessica's opinion, was that he was secretive. And she didn't understand why? It had taken her months to find out anything about him. Even now the things she knew because he'd told her she could count on one hand.
His name was Sam Winchester.
He was born in Kansas.
He had a brother Dean.
He and his family had a falling out and they didn't talk.
Jessica knew Sam liked music, but grew oddly sad whenever Metallica or classic rock came on. She knew he loved food but especially enjoyed chocolate chip cookies. He had said thank you in his shy way the first time she'd made them. She knew he didn't trust easily but once he did he'd lay down his life for you, like the time she'd been distracted after class and had almost been hit by a car whose driver was texting while driving. Sam had barreled into her like a linebacker in the championship playoffs, and gotten her out of the way of the car. He'd twisted somehow in the air and, when he landed taken the brunt of it onto himself while she'd lain on top of him, still trying to comprehend what had happened. Before she knew it, he'd set her on her feet, efficiently and briskly checked her over for injuries, and then stalked over to the car, hauled the driver out and punched him. Then he'd walked her home.
Jessica liked to call that their first date. He'd walked her home, she'd invited him in, and finally the shy smart gorgeous guy she'd been lusting after in Classic Civ all semester became her Sam.
The timer rang, its shrill, incessant beeping colliding with the cheerful melody emanating from the radio. Jessica turned, grabbing the oven mitts her grandmother had made for her when she left for college. She pulled the cookies out, breathing in deeply. She could appreciate a good cookie same as Sam, and boy, these smelled delicious!
Suddenly, the small kitchen filled with the sound of thunder, followed closely by the sharp crack of lightning. The sound of the wind began to beat against the windows, and the storm grew in intensity. Jessica shivered as an unsettled feeling raced up her spine.
The rainy day was beginning to morph into a wet, cold, rainy night. The sky was sliding seamlessly from steely blue to gray to black, and as the temperature dropped, the rain continued to pour. Momentarily cold Jessica hugged herself. It wasn't as if Sam wasn't a big boy. He could take care of himself. The comfort of the day had suddenly turned ominous, almost as if the rapidly receding light made way for the encroaching shadows to take over. Jessica didn't like it; suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be in Sam's arms, his body heat chasing away the chill in her bones.
Where was Sam?
The next wave of rolling thunder pierced the apartment, its angry boom drowning out the radio and covering up the sound of a key in the lock. Jessica jumped, startled, when the door swung open to revel a dripping and shuddering Sam, bent over in a fit of coughing. His dark, wet hair hung plastered to his head and trails of freezing rainwater cascaded down his shaking form. Jessica rushed over to help him in and gasped when her fingers met fevered skin instead of the chilled exterior she'd been expecting.
"Sam, hon! You are sick, you never should have gone out in the storm to the stupid library to study. Sheesh, have you even eaten today?"
"I'm fine, Jess," returned Sam. His dimples flared to life with his wide grin. "I think I just need a shower and maybe something to eat. I skipped lunch and then missed the bus. It wasn't raining all that hard when I left the library, but now I'm pretty soaked." Sam was so intent on reassuring Jessica that he brushed aside the deep rumbling burning in his chest, and the uncomfortable congestion in his sinuses. He did not have time to be sick right now.
"Uhh huh," said Jessica. "Well go get in the shower and I'll make you some soup."
Sniffing loudly as he valiantly tried to hold in a sneeze, Sam acquiesced and turned to trudge down the hallway.
Jessica waited until she heard the shower start up before she put some soup on the stove to heat. Sam might not want to admit it, but she could tell he was getting sick. Well, Jessica intended to nip this in the bud right now; they were not going to have a repeat of last spring with Sam developing pneumonia.
Chicken soup, rest, relaxation, Jessica had it all planned out. Now she just needed Sam to cooperate.
Sam stood under the spray. He had turned the dial as hot as he could stand, partly for the decongesting properties of the steam, but mainly because he was cold. Scratch that, he was freezing. It was as if he couldn't get warm no matter how hot the water and his whole body ached like he'd just run a marathon. His legs felt shaky, the muscles fatigued in a way he remembered being associated with long hikes in rough terrain with weapons and equipment strapped to his back, not a simple walk home from the library.
Truth was, he knew he was getting sick, but he could not afford to be ill right now. He was going to tough it out the way Winchesters were meant to. Suck it up, be a man, get the job done, don't complain, soldiers don't quit. It was his father's drill sergeant voice he heard in his head but it was Dean's steady hand he could feel ghosting across his forehead checking for fever, and his soothing voice he remembered from childhood illnesses. He'd take Tylenol, crawl into bed and sleep it off. Tomorrow he'd wake up and start studying again.
It was all going to be okay because he was a Winchester and Winchesters tunneled through life using only the strength in their own hands as shovels. It would be all right because he'd make it so.
The tenacity of his own convictions was strength enough to get Sam out of the shower and into the bedroom. He weaved and wobbled to the dresser as if it had been raining whisky instead of water. The room wavered in and out of his vision and the black spots he also saw did nothing to reassure him. Slipping on a pair of faded blue sweatpants, he made it to the edge of the bed. Gingerly Sam tugged back the covers and then crawled underneath them, his head burrowing into the pillow, gaining purchase against the soft fabric even as his eyes fluttered closed.
A/N II. Reviews are lovely! I would love to grow as a writer and appreciate all the feedback you can give me. Thanks for reading
