A/N: Thanks once again to all my reviewers and those who subscribed to alerts. I'm so glad to see you are still enjoying this story.
CHAPTER TEN
"So you don't know what it was?" Dean barely spared a glance at his brother as he spun the Impala around a tight corner
"I didn't see the attacker," Sam reiterated from the passenger seat.
"The demon?" Jess guessed.
"Not the usual MO," Dean pointed out. "It's been all about setting things on fire, so why go with a car all of a sudden?"
"It has to be connected to the demon," Sam argued. "It'd be too much of a coincidence if it was something else."
"Best we can do is go in prepared for anything," Dean decided. They turned onto the street the Millers lived. "I got holy water and salt in my jacket."
"I've got silver and iron knives," Jess offered.
"Sam?" Dean asked.
"Dean, I was a little busy with the whole psychic vision thing," Sam replied petulantly.
"Dammit, Sam! I left the .45 in the glove box. Take that, at least."
There were silver bullets in the gun, so Dean figured they'd be prepared for most stuff, unless it was really weird. He hastily parked the Impala, and they all scrambled out of the car.
The Miller house was silent; all of the lights were turned off except for the garage.
"Stay close," Dean ordered. The garage door was closed, so the only entrance was through the side. Dean kicked the door in and ducked his head down as cloudy exhaust spilled out of the garage.
Jim Miller was in the car, pounding on the windows and scrambling for the handles. Max stood by the interior door, his outstretched hand trembling with rage and strain. Blood trickled from his nose down his chin. Somehow, Max had to be responsible for what was happening to his father.
Sam ran to the car instantly and tugged at the door. Max's eyes widened in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Before waiting for an answer, he did something with his hand and a wooden box came flying towards Sam, crashing into his head and sending him crumpling to the floor.
"Sam!" Jess shrieked.
"Don't move!" Max commanded. "If you come any closer, I'll do it again." It would have been foolish not to take him at his word. The car had stopped running, but Jim was unconscious inside the vehicle, and would definitely need medical attention.
"Look, Max, you have to calm down," Dean spoke soothingly. "We're just trying to help. That's why we came to your house today."
"You said you were reports," Max choked out. "You asked if we noticed anything strange."
"Yeah," Dean agreed.
"Does this count as strange?" Max wondered. His hand stretched out again and a rake shifted up off the wall and began to float towards him.
"Yeah, that would count." Dean could do little but watch in horrified fascination. Blood flowed sluggishly down Max's face and dripped onto his collar. There was a gleam in the man's eyes; not quite demonic, but far from human.
"Max, it's a demon that's given you these powers," Jess spoke up, not taking her eyes off Sam's still form. "But you don't have to use them for evil. You don't even have to use them at all."
"Not use them?" Max croaked. "Are you serious? This is the first time in my entire life when I've had an advantage over my dad. When he hasn't been standing over me, bruising me, making my bleed. You think I'm not going to take advantage of that? I'm gonna give it everything I've got. You hear that, Dad?" Max called out to the motionless body in the car. "It's my turn to have some freaking power now!"
"Max, maybe you didn't have the best family life," Jess continued. "But you still have a choice."
Max laughed a hollow, broken chuckle that made Dean's throat tighten. "Look, I don't know if you're crazy or not. I mean, demons? Seriously? But I gotta tell you, whatever it is, I don't care where it came from. I'm gonna use to it to get back the power that's been taken from me. And if you don't like it, I'll take you down, too. You know I can."
Dean glanced down at his brother. Sam was still unconscious, laying awkwardly near the door. But the gun he had hastily shoved in his waistband had been knocked free. Max was too far away for Dean to reach, but a gun could do the trick. He just needed to get close enough to Sam.
Although that was going to be hard on its own, given that Max could just whammy something to smash him over the head if he tried to make a move.
"Look, Max, you've made your point," Dean soothed, holding his open hands out to project innocence. "We won't try to hurt you. But I'm worried about my brother. Will you let me go check on him?"
"He's still alive," Max shook his head. "That's all you need to know."
"I still want to see him," Dean persisted. He took a step towards Sam.
"I said no!" Max shouted, snapping out his hands in command. The rake, still floating all this time, pivoted and arrowed towards Dean, who ducked in anticipation.
But Max screamed suddenly, clutching his head. Dean wasted no time and dove for the gun. He grabbed the weapon and fired three quick shots, each hitting the mark of Max's chest.
Silence exploded in the room. Max lay still on the ground, completely unmoving.
Dean shook Sam's shoulder gently. "Sam? Wake up, man."
Sam groaned softly, and began to shift around. Dean turned to Jess, and found her sitting on the ground clutching her head.
"You did something," Dean realized. "To Max?"
She nodded silently, tears collecting in her eyes.
"What did you do?"
"I don't know," she whispered, her voice wavering. "I don't know what I did. He was trying to attack you, and the next thing I knew I felt this…. energy leave me and he was screaming and—"
"Okay. It's okay, Jess. Calm down. Here, help Sam."
Jess crawled obediently to Sam and helped him rise to a sitting position. She spoke softly to him and Dean reached up from his position on the floor to pop open the door of the car. It opened easily now that Max was… was dead. The man inside, though, had not faired too well.
"He's dead," Dean announced flatly, shoving his hands in his pockets to cover up their trembling.
"We didn't get here in time," Jess mourned.
"He was abusing Max," Dean shot back. "Didn't you hear what the kid said? I can't spare too much sympathy for the guy."
"Still," Jess insisted.
"We need to get out of here," Dean announced. "As quickly as possible. Here, I'll help with Sammy."
"C'n walk" Sam muttered, flopping his hands around ineffectively.
"Dean," Jess protested.
"Jess, how the hell would we explain this to the cops?" Dean demanded. "There's no way. C'mon, we need to be gone." Dean lifted Sam's arm around his shoulder and hefted his injured brother to a standing position.
Sam groaned loudly. "Room's spinning," he complained.
"Fresh air'll do you good," Dean announced.
"Dean," Jess tried again.
"Jess, not now," Dean cut in. "We're not talking about this until we're as far away from Saginaw as possible."
They couldn't just leave the motel room the way it was. Too many of their possessions had been left there including some weaponry and Dean's father's journal. They left Sam in the car, ostensibly to keep watch but really just to get some rest. Jess had checked him for a concussion, and he was in the clear but definitely had the mother of all headaches.
So Dean worked with Jess to stuff the absolute essentials into duffels so they could get the hell out of town. He didn't know if the car had been spotted by neighbours, but he sure wasn't taking any chances.
"Hey, Jess…" Dean was shoving clothing into a bag, not even caring who it belonged to while Jess was checking under the mattresses.
"What?" she replied distractedly.
"When Max went down… What did you do to him?"
Jess dropped the mattress immediately, keeping herself turn away from Dean.
"I don't know what it was," she confessed. "All I know is I was feeling scared and overwhelmed, and I just pushed. And Max dropped."
"You pushed," Dean repeated blandly.
"Yeah," she huffed, turning to the other mattress.
"Have you ever done something like that before? Do you think you could do it again?"
"I don't know, Dean," she snapped.
"Well, what do you think it did to Max?" he continued.
"Why are you so obsessed with what I did to Max? It's not like I killed him or anything."
Dean snapped his jaw closed. Jess, predictably, was by his side in an instant.
"Dean, I'm sorry," she told him, biting down on her lip. "That was really insensitive of me. Are you okay?"
"We kill stuff all the time, Jess," Dean shrugged, grabbing the last pile of clothes. "It's not anything new."
"We kill supernatural stuff," Jess corrected. "A lot different than a human, Dean."
"Max was threatening Sam; he was threatening you. He succeeded in killing his father, and he would have killed us. I did what I had to do." He hefted the duffle on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here. We can stop by the machine on our way out and grab some ice for Sam."
"Dude, for the last time, I'm fine."
Dean just kept his hand level in front of Sam, two Tylenols cupped in the palm.
Sam sighed, but grabbed the pills regardless. It was the quickest way to get Dean to drop it and, if he was really honest with himself, he did actually have a headache. He wasn't concussed, though, and he would be fine, despite the hovering of his brother and girlfriend.
They had been driving for hours, and Sam really needed to just get out of the car and sleep in a real bed. But he knew they needed to get as far away as possible. Jess was currently on a food run while Dean was on Sam-watch.
"Dude, I'll be fine. But how about you?"
"What are you talking about?" Dean frowned.
"Dean… You killed Max." Jess and Dean had filled him in during the drive.
"You're going to pester me about this too?" Dean complained. "I already told Jess, Max barely even counted as a human."
"Because he had powers," Sam filled in.
"What? No! Because he tried to kill you, Sammy. And he would have, too, if I had let him. He was seriously deranged even without the powers. They had nothing to do with what he was, they just helped him along."
"He was abused," Sam remembered. "His dad beat him."
"And that sucks," Dean replied. "But that doesn't give him the right to go all mass murderer on our asses. We make our own choices with the life we're dealt. Yeah, Max had freaky-ass powers just like you and Jess, but you're going to make the right call with them."
"Dean, what if—"
"Not going to happen, Sam. Whatever worst-case scenario you have going on in your head, you'll make the right decision."
"Okay," Sam agreed, glad to let Dean shove aside some of the nagging doubt he was burdened with.
"Besides, dude, you got the bottom of the barrel when it comes to psychic powers. Max could move shit, and Jess can tell if there's a demon nearby, and you've got, what, prophetic migraines? Lame, Sammy. As soon as we catch the sucker behind all this, you should lodge a formal complaint."
News reports on the Millers' deaths were confused and scattered. The police were thinking a possible murder suicide, although they were baffled as to why the father would shoot his son with a gun and then kill himself with carbon monoxide poisoning, not to mention the mystery of where the gun went.
But, the wife had been in bed with sleeping pills that night, and miraculously, no one had caught sight of the Impala driving away. No one matching their description had popped up on any alerts, so they declared themselves safe, as long as they steered clear of Michigan for the next while.
They headed back to Bobby's to lay low over Christmas, sharing a strange holiday with Moore, Winchester, and Singer traditions combined. Jess pushed the idea of a re-gifting secret Santa with fierce determination, which ended up with Dean getting a rap CD from Dylan and Sam getting a hat from Bobby, complete with earflaps, that smelled like it had been kept with the really wacky herbs for the better part of the decade. Jess, in a desperate attempt to win back Dylan's favour, had cheated and enlisted Bobby's help in tracking down a part for the car Dylan was fixing up. Dylan accepted the part, but didn't respond any warmer to her.
Jess and the brothers didn't stay long, not wanting to risk being found, so they were on the road again trying to track down more people on the list and picking up the odd job along the way. They had no success with the former, but had done pretty well on the latter.
Jess was getting better at her psychic abilities, and could mostly control her connection with Sam. She was firmly ignoring the weird psychic attack thing she did on Max, instead focusing on blocking out the signal from others around her. When it got to be too intense, she put her feelers out to Sam and shut out everything else. The only issue was that if Sam was experiencing a particularly strong emotion, there was no way she could block it out.
It was particularly distracting the night after her birthday. She had shared a joint celebration with Dean the previous night at a local bar. Sam and Dean had shown more stamina than her, so she had walked back to the motel a little earlier than the boys, who stumbled in sometime after 3, both horribly drunk and making a racket. But Sam had wanted to take her to a nice restaurant with just the two of them, and she eagerly accepted. They hadn't been on anything resembling a date since they had left Stanford.
Jess pulled on her fake FBI slacks and blouse, leaving off the blazer and popping a few of the buttons on the shirt open. She wore her nice-ish shoes, lamenting the lack of heel, and took the time to actually do her hair instead of pulling it into a braid. All of her jewelry had been left in California except for the crucifix and protective amulet she always wore. She glanced at the overall effect in the mirror, and opened the shirt another button lower.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she found Dean alone in the room, flicking through a copy of a skin magazine.
"Well, Jessie, don't you clean up nice," he grinned.
She scowled, not sure if it was meant as a compliment or a dig. It had been so long since she had even tried to look pretty that she felt all sorts of insecure.
"Where's Sam?"
"Getting the car for you, poor whipped bastard." Dean put the magazine down. "You be sure that he parks far enough away from all the idiot drivers that I'm sure this town has."
Jess rolled her eyes. "It'll be safe, Dean, I promise."
The doorknob rattled, and Sam stepped in. Like Jess, he was wearing a more dressed-down version of his FBI outfit, the only nice clothes they really owned. He had left the tie off tonight, letting the collar gape open to reveal his nicely tanned neck.
"Hey," he smiled.
"Hey," she replied, feeling her heart trip in her chest. Foolishly nervous, she ran her hand through her hair. It felt like her high school prom all over again.
"Just get out of here before you fill the whole room with sap," Dean complained from the bed.
He had been grumpy and hung over all day, so Jess let that comment slide, instead letting Sam help her into her jacket and hold the door open for her as they stepped out.
"And watch out for my car!" Dean called to them as the door closed.
Sam, playing the part of the gentleman perfectly, opened the car door for her as well. Although this sort of behavior would annoy the crap out of her day in and day out, she enjoyed the special treatment every once in a while. They drove to the restaurant in silence, and Jess felt hesitant to speak, blushing whenever she glanced over at Sam. Finally, it occurred to her that the expectant nervousness wasn't entirely her own.
"Okay, Sam, what's up?"
"What do you mean?" He blinked rapidly as he kept his eyes firmly on the road.
"All these jitters I'm feeling. It's like our first date all over again and I'm worrying I won't be able to eat anything once we get there."
Sam stiffened in his seat. "You feel that, huh?"
"I can't shut it off. What gives?"
"Nothing." Sam scratched the back of his neck. "It's just… It's been a while since we've been out like this and I'm remembering what it was like our first time out together. I dunno, in some ways it's almost like that all over again. This is the first time we've had an entire night all to our own since we went on the road."
"I guess that makes sense," Jess shrugged.
Sam relaxed a bit. "Sorry it's messing with your radar."
"You know, I kind of like it," she decided. "Sometimes it's nice to look at things like they're all new again."
They found a good spot for the Impala and walked the short distance to the restaurant together. The place was a lot nicer than the diners they usually frequented, but not so nice that Jess felt out of place in her clunky dress shoes and lack of sparkly accessories. They ate leisurely, knowing that there was no case for them to run off to for once. Jess convinced Sam to split the richest dessert on the menu with her, some sort of chocolate concoction covered in caramel drizzle with a side of ice cream. The demolished plate sat between them and Jess was licking her spoon absently when Sam pushed his coffee cup aside and cleared his throat.
Jess felt the sudden spike of nerves instantly. "What is it, Sam?" she asked, setting her spoon back on the table.
Sam grinned ruefully. "You felt that, huh?"
"Of course I did, you've got enough adrenaline pumping through your veins to make your heart explode."
Sam choked out a laugh and raked his hand through his hair. "Look, Jess, I want to say something, and I need you to let me say it, okay?"
"Sure. Whatever you need."
"Okay…. You know how before we had a demon army after us, we were talking about, you know, our future?"
"Yeah…" They had talked about marriage and kids, something they were both open to at the time.
"Well, ever since then, I've been so focused on hunting those demons so we can be safe again. I told myself that we couldn't think about the future until we knew it was demon free. But lately, I've been thinking, Jess. We have a hazardous job. What happened with Max before Christmas? That could've gone a completely different way. And just last week, with that poltergeist… It's dangerous, Jess. So what's the point of putting something away to the future when we can be living it right now?"
She tried to keep the smile from spreading across her face, but it was a lost cause. There was no doubt about what was coming next. She could feel it in the air, thick and rich with anticipation.
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He pulled the lid off the reveal a sliver ring resting in the cushion. "Jess, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
Her smile was completely unleashed now. "Yeah, Sam. Of course I will."
Sam beamed one of those rare-prize smiles that transformed his whole face into something even more special than it usually was. He pulled the ring from the box and took her hand.
"I know it's not much," he told her as he slipped it on her finger. "I couldn't take a lot of money from my personal account, and I didn't want to buy you a ring from credit card fraud or pool hustling. When we're settled again, I can buy you a better one."
"Don't you dare," she told him. "I love this ring." It had no jewel, but the silver knotted at the top in a design that, on closer inspection, resembled a Devil's Trap.
"Bobby says the design's good," Sam informed her.
"It's perfect," she reiterated.
They took their time getting out of the restaurant. Jess decided to forgo her usual aversion to PDA, and Sam was taking advantage of it as much as he could. She felt slightly loopy, swimming in the mutual joy and simmering heat between them. Their waitress smile indulgently at their distraction, and Jess was pretty sure that Sam grossly over tipped her, which probably contributed to the indulging. When they reached the door outside, it put a slight damper on the occasion.
"Horrible weather," Sam commented, looking up at the icy sleet falling from the sky.
"It's still a beautiful night," Jess smiled.
"Sure. Look, I'll run and grab the car. You stay warm and dry right here."
"I can come with you," Jess offered. "It's not that far."
"Stay," Sam insisted. "What kind of fiancé would I be if I let you get all cold and wet all the time?"
Jess gave him a quick peck (okay, a longish kiss) before he started jogging towards the parking lot.
For the first time since she had discovered their origin, Jess used her powers to reach out and stay close to Sam, simply because she wanted to. It was easy to sense his signature cocktail of elation and happiness even though she couldn't see him. She even caught flashes of what he was imagining in his head: their future according to Sam.
But then she felt startled fear rip through her like a serrated blade, followed by a blast of pain to her gut that brought her to her knees.
"Miss!" The hostess rushed to her and grabbed her arms. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Sam!" she shouted, not caring who heard. "Something's wrong, we have to—" She felt phantom pain from Sam again, this time thundering against her skull.
"Miss, are you okay? Where did your boyfriend go?"
Jess struggled against the pain, trying to speak to tell them to find Sam. But the world was quickly blurring around her, and when she felt another burst of pain against her temple, she descended completely into darkness.