Chapter Ten: One foot in, one foot out
Jessica was sitting in the kitchen with her mother the first time it happened. Sandy was standing at the counter, cutting up vegetables for tonight's dinner. Jessica was at the table, fliers for half a dozen colleges spread out before her. She had to choose one soon, because fall semester would start in a few weeks.
They had all already accepted her. The first thing Jessica had done when she got home was sent out transfer applications to every school she could think of. She didn't have time to shop and decide first; the deadlines were too close. Besides, she had needed something to do. She needed to feel like she had forward momentum, like her life was taking a new direction.
She needed to forget the sight of Sam's face as she'd told him she was leaving.
He would be ok. He had his brother. Jessica hadn't been around them long, but it had been long enough to see how close Sam and Dean really were. How much Dean looked after Sam in a way that Jess could never hope to duplicate. It was part of why she knew she could be free to leave.
Sam had Dean, so he didn't need her.
Jessica picked up a glossy photo of a student with stacks of homework spread out underneath a shady tree and tried to tune out the sounds of Jenna's TV program. Little sister was busy bingeing bad TV before she, too, had to return to school at the start of fall semester. Jenna had been very vocal that Jessica should join her at Berkley.
Jessica wasn't convinced that was a good idea. Sam and Dean might be able to live on top of each other, but she was pretty sure she would strangle Jenna at some point if they inhabited the same campus for too long.
"...cattle found mutilated in southern Missouri. All of the blood was drained from their bodies. I don't know what they want it for, but don't you know you can buy that stuff at the butcher shop?"
Jessica turned to stare at the TV. "What are you watching?"
Jenna licked her fingers, which were yellow from cheesy puffs. "No idea. Weird News Wednesday?" The image on the screen flicked away, replaced by a guy running through the streets with a mannequin under his arm.
Cattle mutilation. That was a demon sign, right? But—drained of blood? What did that mean? Jessica could feel her heart hammering, and she closed her eyes. They're not here. They're not here. No they weren't here, but they were out there, and they always would be.
Mom turned to get something out of the fridge and cocked her head, eyebrows crinkling in worry. "Jess, you ok?"
There was no way she could explain to her mother why the strange news program had bothered her.
"Yeah." Jessica took a deep breath and gathered up her brochures. "I've got some phone calls to make, questions to ask. I'll be in my room."
In her room, Jessica dumped the college brochures on the bed and reached for her phone. She needed to talk to someone.
She wanted to talk to Sam.
But Sam was the one person she couldn't call. Shouldn't call. Hearing his voice would just make moving on that much harder. Jess scrolled through her contacts, knowing that there was no one there she could talk to.
Her thumb stopped. She stared at the name in front of her. A name she had thought she would never call again.
"This is Brady, pastoral assistant here at Blue Earth Christian Church. Can I help you?"
Jessica waited for the familiar pang that came with the mention of his name, for the shiver of fear and threat of a flashback that could happen at the sound of his voice. That voice that had taunted her while she was pinned to the ceiling, bleeding. But it didn't come. The demon was long gone, and Brady was just—Brady. The only other person in the world who could really understand.
"Hi, Brady. It's Jess. I—did you say 'pastoral assistant?'"
Brady chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Not what you expected. My parents are really confused, but they've accepted it. I'm starting seminary in the fall. In four years, I'll be a full-fledged minister."
"Wow." Jess felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "You know, you might be good at that. If you try."
"Oh, I'm trying. With Pastor Jim gone, there's no one else here who understands, but not all of the hunters got the word that he had passed so they kept sending people here for help. You know, the ones who need someone to talk to about all the crazy things they just saw."
"And you help them?"
She could hear Brady's shrug. "I try. At least they have someone to talk to who understands. I'm learning about theology by day, and demons by night. It's a bit weird sometimes."
Jess snorted. "Yeah. I'll bet. You said seminary—is there a college out there?"
"It's close enough. It's not the best school, but a degree is a degree, right?"
"Right." Jess nodded, an idea forming in her mind. "Tell me about this school."
o0o
(set during "Simon Says")
"So this guy can literally get anything he wants?" Sam picked at his salad, keeping his voice low so that the rest of the diner could not overhear their conversation. The blitzed tone in Dean's voice when he called Sam to say he'd let someone else drive the Impala away was still ringing in his head.
"He told me to get out of the car, and I just—I handed over the keys with a smile." Dean wasn't smiling now. He looked ready to commit murder, all he needed was the appropriate victim. The only reason he was sitting in a diner right now, tearing into a burger instead to tearing the town apart to search for this guy, was because they'd found the Impala again safe and sound. "If he can do that, he can do anything. I bet he could walk right into the Pentagon. But he uses it to steal coffee."
Sam glared at a piece of cucumber as if it had offended him. "And make people kill themselves." The visions were still fresh in his mind.
"Hey, we don't know that he connected to the demon or your-"
"Don't we, Dean? Because my visions only seem to be about people who are connected to the demon, and they're all-"
"Sam, you don't have any Jedi-mind tricks, ok? So it's not connected."
"I could move things like Max. How do you know I can't do this, too?"
"Because when I'm done eating this burger, I'm ordering a side of bacon and nachos. You'll bitch about how I'll have a heart attack when I'm forty, but you and your bitchface can't stop me."
Sam snorted. Dean just bit into his burger again, chewing loudly. "It's so good, Sam. What do you want with that salad, anyway?"
"It's good for you."
Dean shook his head. "Nope. Nothing. It didn't even feel like you were trying. Come one, Sam. Make me put the burger down!"
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean burped and began to chew with his mouth open. Sam narrowed his eyes, glaring at his brother. "You really want me to try using mind control?"
"I'm just saying, Sam. You won't know it's all connected unless you can learn this trick, too. And I'm not putting this burger down." Dean licked a glob of ketchup off his lips.
"Fine. Put the burger down." Dean continued to eat, his eyes taunting Sam. Sam glared, and reached down into himself, to the place where the power that could move object rested. "Put the burger down, Dean. Eat a salad."
The burger landed on Dean's plate as Dean swiped Sam's fork, pulled the salad plate across the table, and took a giant bite of lettuce. He made a face, but kept eating with the same enthusiasm he had given the burger. "Dude, this is disgusting!" Dean shoveled anther fork full into his mouth. "Completely gross!"
"Stop!" Sam shouted. Half the diner turned to stare, and Sam tried to shrink into his seat. He looked across the table. Dean was still eating salad.
"Dude, figure it out. I don't want any more of this."
"Stop." Sam's tone was quiet, but the power he put behind the word was as strong as ever. Dean set his fork down, spit his half-chewed mouthful of salad into a napkin, and sucked down half his soda.
"You are never eating salad again. As your big brother, it's my job to save you from the truly terrible things in life, and that was truly terrible." Dean shook his head and took another drink.
"It's all connected." Sam slumped back in his seat. "All of it."
"Yeah. Well. Good to know." Dean scooped up the remnants of his burger. "Don't do that again."
o0o
Sam sat alone in the motel room, phone clasped in both hands. The room was dark, lit only by the glow of the screen and the thin crack of light coming through the bathroom door. Dean was in there, taking the longest shower in the history of Winchester showers.
He hadn't come out yet because he couldn't face Sam. Couldn't put on a convincing face to make his little brother believe that he wasn't scared. Didn't quite know how to be in the same space as the boy who had collected yet another strange power.
Don't to that again. Sam knew Dean hadn't just been referring to the salad he'd forced his brother to eat. No, Dean had meant that Sam wasn't to used his new mind-control power on his brother—or anyone—again.
But Sam hadn't had a choice. The headache still lingered from his latest demonstration of power. Andy's evil twin had been trying to march a girl to her death, and Andy had overridden that command to bring her back down. So when Sam had realized that Webber was in Dean's head, about to make his brother kill himself—what was he supposed to do?
Dean had thanked him for stopping it. But there was a look in his eye, that same look he'd had when he'd confessed under Andy's demand for the truth that this was all starting to freak him out and he didn't know what to think anymore.
That was why Dean was avoiding him. Why his brother was taking the world's longest shower. He didn't want to leave Sam alone, but after Sam had proven he could make Dean do anything—Dean didn't really want to be with him right now, either.
Just like Jessica didn't want to be with him.
Sam stared at the name in his contacts list. In the face of Dean's silence, she was the one person he wanted to talk to. She had always had a way of making him feel at ease. But he couldn't call. He should have deleted her number when she left. She had made it clear that she wanted out, and he had resolved to let her.
Sam flicked his way up the list to a different number. Mr. Moore. He hadn't really used that one since the summer he had spent working as in intern under Jessica's father at the Sheriff's dept.
What time was it out in California? With the time change, it might not be too late yet.
The voice that answered the phone didn't have a trace of sleep in it, only confusion. "Sam, is that you?"
"Mr. Moore! Yeah. Uh—sorry, maybe I shouldn't be calling."
"No, it's alright." Brian's tone was soothing. "Is everything ok?"
"Yes, sir. I just-" I might be turning into a monster and I'm kind of freaking out and I need someone to talk to. That didn't quite seem like the right thing to say. "I just wanted to see if Jessica got home ok. See how she's doing. Only don't—don't tell her I called. Please?"
"Jessica is fine, Sam. She got home a few weeks ago, and we were able to get her enrolled in the fall semester at her new school. She's moving on."
Sam winced at those last words. A not-too-subtle reminder that she wasn't his girlfriend anymore. She wasn't part of his life anymore. "Right. Good. That's—I'm glad she's ok."
"Me too. Are you ok, Sam?"
Sam's voice caught in his throat. No! Nothing is ok. Nothing has been ok since the fire. Since I had a fight with my dad. Since Mom died. "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." Sam flipped the phone shut before he could say anything else.
A path of light fell across him. Dean was standing in the bathroom doorway, hair still wet. "Who were you talking to."
Sam heaved a sigh and tossed his phone across the room to land in his duffle bag. "No one."
Dean's hand landed on Sam's shoulder, his grip tight and reassuring. "She's safe, Sam. They don't have any reason to come for her again."
"Yeah, I hope so."
Something tight unwound and relaxed in Sam's chest. Maybe Dean wasn't as freaked out as he had thought. Maybe, Dean didn't want to get away from him. Maybe, his big brother had just needed some space to think, which wasn't easy to get in their tiny motel room.
Friends, girls, they had all come and gone Sam's entire life. Dean had been the only constant in his life. As much as it hurt that Jess was gone, Sam was happy that it was his brother at his back in the middle of all of this.
He didn't want to say good-bye to Dean again, didn't want another three years of silence, ever.
When all of this was over-if this was ever over-would he be able to have a life and a girlfriend and eventually a family without having to leave his brother behind? Could Dean find a way to stop hunting, too?
Dean flopped down on the bed and picked up the remote, flipping through channels for a good movie. "Legally Blonde, ugh!" Dean made mock barfing sounds. "Did you guys study that one at law school?"
Sam rolled his eyes and settled back on his own bed, ready to veto whatever Dean picked next just because he could. "Yeah, Dean, I wrote a paper about how is presents classic examples of what not to do in a courtroom."
I'll find a way. Jess might be moving on with her life, but that didn't mean that Sam had to give up on his dream. They would find this demon, and when it was dead, he would make Dean retire and get a real job while Sam went back to school. Dean would find a girlfriend and have a whole bunch of kids and Sam would be the world's best uncle.
He fell asleep halfway through Ace Ventura, and dreamed of walking through the park pushing a stroller with one hand, the Colt held ready in the other while Dean led a squad of cub scouts on salt-ring drills.
o0o
"This is where you're staying now?" Jenna turned in a circle, taking in the small apartment with its faded paint and threadbare carpet. "It feels like a halfway house or something. I had to check in with the door monitor and everything." Jenna narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Don't tell me you have a curfew!"
"Ha. Ha. No. No curfew." Although Jess couldn't argue with the halfway house part. A half-way house for people recovering from encounters with the supernatural. There no rules, no curfew, and no mandated counseling or support groups. Just a bunch of people who had all seen the same things and needed to know someone else in the world would understand. "The price was right. And they're really selective around here."
The criteria for the selection was not something Jess was going to explain.
"Yeah. 'Must have survived life-altering trauma.' Jenna held up her fingers to make air quotes. "Everyone in this place looks shell-shocked."
"Life altering trauma," Jess repeated quietly. Maybe Jenna had a better grasp of this place than she thought. "Just be glad you don't qualify."
Jenna clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she had said. "I didn't—I mean-"
Jess shrugged. "It's ok. It's accurate. Besides. I fit in here."
"No you don't."
"Yes. I do."
Jenna crossed her arms and glared at her sister. "Jess, you gotta stop putting your life on pause."
"Pause?" Jessica blinked. "I'm moving forward! I ended things with Sam. I've got a part-time job. I'm finishing school-"
"At the local college? Jess, you were at Stanford!"
Jess felt her throat tighten. "Jenna, you know I couldn't go back to-"
"So? There are a hundred other better choices! UCLA! Berkley! There are tons of good schools that would love to have you. But no, you're here in nowhereseville because you're still stuck on him."
It took a moment for Jessica to process what her sister had just said. "Sam? You think this about Sam? Sam is gone. He has no idea where I am. We're over."
"Yeah, that's why you're hanging out with his former best friend. Because you're totally over him." Jenna shook her head. "This isn't a good place for you, Jess."
Her sister might have been right about the first point, but she was wrong about the second. There was no way to explain the sense of peace that Jessica had found here. The sense of relief at being able to share her story with someone who understood. The sense of purpose in helping other learn to cope. That job had helped keep Brady sane after everything.
"Maybe I have moved on! Brady and I are getting awfully close."
Jenna rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, please! I know you, Jess. You're still stuck on Sam. I hate to say it, but you need to go back to him."
"I thought you said I needed to dump him."
"Yeah, well, obviously that didn't work! I'm saying you need to pick one, sis, and stop pining."
"Pining?" Jessica made a sour face. "I am not pining!"
"They why are you here?" Jenna lifted her chin stubbornly.
"What is this, an intervention?" When you know you can't answer the question, deflect! Like little sister would really be fooled.
"Yeah. It is. And if you won't listen to me, I'm sure Mom would be happy to come out, too. We're all worried about you." Jenna paused, tapping her foot, considering. "Maybe I should just find Sam, drag him out here, and throw the two of you in a pit until you sort yourselves out."
"What?" Something in Jenna's tone caught Jess's ear.
"He's been calling, you know. Dad. Mom. Even me. He just asks how you are, then hangs up. Won't answer any questions, just wants to know you're ok. Seriously, what happened with you two?"
Jessica bit her lip. How could she possibly explain? This was why she had left again. She couldn't answer these questions. She couldn't lie as easily as Sam. Especially not to her family. "Sam is—mixed up in something bad. It's not his fault, but it's something he has to deal with now. I don't want to be involved but-"
"Ugh." Jenna dropped her head in her hands. "You're waiting until whatever freaky mobster his family pissed off stops threatening him and anyone he loves? How did your life become the sidestory of some weird action-adventure movie."
Jessica laughed. "I have no idea. What makes you think it's a mobster?"
Jenna shrugged. "What else would it be?" She dropped her arms and sighed. "How long are you going to wait? I mean, I know you. You're a modern woman, all strong and independent and ready to have a career, but you really want to get married and have a family, too."
A pang burned through the scar on Jessica's belly. Her sister did know her too well. After the doctors had told her she couldn't have children, she had started researching adoption. After she had finished her meltdown.
"You're right." Jessica squeezed her sister's hand. "But the only person I can see myself having that family with right now is Sam." Even though she hadn't told him yet that they would never have children of their own.
"Alright. Well, if you ever decide to give up on the guy and move on, you know where I'll be. Now, I've traveled halfway across the country and I'm starved." She started to flip through the takeout menu on the counter. "Where's good to eat?"
o0o
(Set after "Hunted")
"Hold still!" Dean clamped his hands on Sam's shoulder to make sure that his order was obeyed. He didn't let up even as Sam hissed in pain.
"How bad is it?" Sam asked, peering over his shoulder to try to get a look at the spot where a bit of debris had been embedded in his arm.
"Not as bad as it could be." Dean reached for the whiskey and held the bottle out to Sam. His brother took it and drank down a hefty amount.
They both knew this was gonna hurt. Dean could feel Sam trying not to tense up as he got ready to push his little brother's shoulder back into the socket. It had been dislocated when Gordon shoved him not just into but through a wall.
Once Sam's shoulder was back in place, Dean tended to the cuts on his face and hands. But he couldn't tend to the wounded look in Sam's eyes.
"He was hunting me, Dean. He's still hunting kids like me. People with special powers."
"Yeah, well, he's crazy. Who turned out to be a monster in the end, huh?" Dean pulled needle through skin, and Sam closed his eyes. "Whatever whacked-out theories Gordon has, they don't mean anything. You hear me? You're not a monster, you're not evil, and you're not going to be."
Although, if Sam had used his powers instead of his hands, Dean wouldn't be sewing him up right now. If Sam could do things like throw people into walls and make a person obey his commands, they would have a serious advantage over the demons on their tail. And hunters like Gordon.
No. Playing with fire was always a bad idea.
Still. Dean remembered how it had felt to be strapped to that chair and hear Gordon's traps go off one after the other, each time thinking that Sam could be dead. He had rope burns on both wrists.
With demons and hunters after Sam, the kid needed more than a shotgun to defend himself. Not using his powers was like letting a grenade launcher or flamethrower gather dust in the trunk. They needed every weapon they could get in this fight.
Dean hissed as Sam poured whiskey over his raw wrists. "You got any healing powers yet?"
Sam snorted, shaking his head, but them paused. "You don't think we'd get that lucky, do you?"
Dean shrugged and held still while Sam wrapped bandages around his wrists. "You never know. You think about using your mind control or teleke-whatsit on Gordon?"
Sam shook his head. "No."
No. Of course not. They hadn't really talked about it, but both brothers had come to the silent agreement after the salad incident that Sam's powers were not something he should use deliberately. They were linked to the demon. They should be avoided.
Right?
Or was it time to start fighting fire with fire?
o0o
Jessica sat on the front steps of the church, playing with the set of keys in her hands. Brady had handed them to her on his way out. He had a class he couldn't miss, but there was a hunter coming to town who needed a favor. More specifically, the hunter needed access to one of the many tools and devices that Pastor Jim had left behind. The hunter wanted to catch a flight and couldn't wait. So Brady had asked Jess for a favor.
In the past few months spent here in Blue Earth, Jessica had been happy to help. She had baked cookies for the support group meetings. She had helped people find their way around town when they first arrived. She had sat with a crying girl, holding her hand while Brady finished a meeting until he was free to talk with her. She had been happy to help the survivors of hunts. But a hunter?
All she had to do was unlock a door. It had seemed like such an easy task when she agreed. But now, Jess wasn't so sure. She had left Sam to get away from hunting.
A car pulled into the church parking lot and a young woman stepped out. She was dressed in a smart suit, not the typical hunter uniform, with her long, dark hair braided down her back. She gave Jessica a warm smile and held out her hand.
Jessica returned the smile. "Hi! You must be Sarah."
Sarah nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry I don't have time to stay and wait for Brady to be available. I've got a flight to catch."
"It's fine." Jessica held up the keys and nodded toward the church. "This way."
"Great. Do you think you could help me?" Sarah went around to the trunk and gestured to a large box there. "It's not heavy, just big and awkward."
"What's in it?"
"Cursed perambulator—that's like an old fashioned stroller." Sarah reached in to grab the corners of the box and Jess reached out to help her.
"So, how did you get mixed up in all of this?"
"Would you believe it all started with a date with the wrong guy? Don't get me wrong, he was a good guy! Very sweet. But he was hung up on someone else. He only asked me out to get information about a haunted painting."
Jess rolled her eyes. "Very romantic."
Sarah just smiled. "It was a little bit, actually. By the time I realized what was really happening, he'd told me his story. His girlfriend got hurt really bad, and he broke up with her because he wanted to keep all of this stuff away from her."
Jess's ears pricked. "That's a familiar story." Tale as old as time, wasn't it? Girl gets hurt, boy blames himself and leaves. It didn't have to be Sam. That was just what the ache inside her that missed him and wished for news wanted to hear. "What happened?"
"Well, after he and his brother dealt with the haunted painting, they left. But I couldn't stop seeing things, you know? Old wives' tales suddenly sounded like the truth, and when I heard about another antique that was 'cursed'-well, I couldn't just let someone else buy it and get killed."
"No," Jess agreed. She set her end of the box down to unlock the door to the basement where Pastor Jim—and now Brady—kept a small arsenal of tools that were effective against the supernatural. "So you left home to live on the road and hunt down cursed objects?"
"What? No!" Sarah shifted her weight as they tilted the box to go down the stairs. "As romantic as living on the road sounds, it's better left in the movies. That's not really for me. There are other ways to hunt, you know. I have a job and a house and I very rarely break the law." Sarah and Jess settled the box down on the floor and Sarah patted her purse. "No fake credit cards here. It helps that I help my dad run an antique business. I only have to burn one out of ten pieces that a buy, so we still turn a profit. It's just that I have an extra side-trip here and there. Like today."
Sarah took out her keys and broke the tape that held the box closed. "So how about you? How did you get mixed up in this?"
Jess stared, surprised by the question. Most people saw her scars and didn't bother to ask.
"I met the wrong guy." Except that he wasn't the wrong guy at all. "He has to hunt and I don't want to hunt—but I can't seem to get over him."
Now Sarah gave her a pitying look. "Don't wait for him to stop. From what I've heard, they rarely do. Move on. He probably has."
"No. He hasn't." She hoped he hadn't. "Hunting isn't a choice for him. He has to do it. Something evil is after him, this crazy demon that won't stop chasing him. He hasn't got a choice."
"That's terrible."
"It is." Jessica felt a catch in her throat. She watched as Sarah flipped through the old book of lore that Brady had left out, then picked up a piece of chalk to start writing strange symbols on the black canopy of the antique stroller. Her part was done. She could leave. This woman was a stranger—but for some reason, Jess found it easier to talk to a stranger than it had been to talk to her sister.
"I left him. Does that make me a bad person?"
Sarah looked up for her work, not quite sure how to respond.
"All I could see was the bad things. People dying. People grieving. Desecrating graves. It just—it was too much." Jess wiped a tear from her eye. "But you—how do you do it?"
Sarah shrugged. "I figure everything that I destroy makes room for someone to make something new. Who needs all this old stuff anyway? We can't all be hoarders. Vengeful spirits are stuck because they can't let go. So I have to do it for them." Sarah glanced at the book and read out a word that sounded like Latin. The sigil glowed for a moment, and then the perambulator began to melt. "Besides, sometimes it feels good to burn a priceless piece of really ugly art!"
Jessica laughed. "It is pretty ugly. How much was it worth?"
Sarah just shook her head. "You don't want to know."
Well, Jessica is learning more about the hunting world, and Sam is learning more about his powers. Neither is quite ready to take the next step, though. What do you think of Sarah hunting as a side-job? What will it take to get Sam to start using how powers and see what he can do when he really tries? What will it take to get Jessica back in Sam's life?
Please review!