Author's Note: This one is for the guest named WomanOfLetters, who made a request a while back for "a letter from either Dean or Sam to one of the girls they had a relationship with". So, this is from Sam to Jess, written some time in season one after Jess's death. I want to thank jojospn, SPNXBookworm, ClassyMuse, mb64, and Leia 96 for their most recent reviews. And thanks to all of you incredibly wonderful people who read these!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Jess,
I owe you an explanation. After everything, the very least I can do is try and explain to you why you were murdered. It was all because of me. Because I'm not normal. I never have been and am relatively certain that I never will be. Remember when I told you my mom died in a house fire when I was a baby? It wasn't an ordinary fire. She died in a fire just like the one that killed you.
I was in my nursery, and something evil broke in, and my mom came to try and protect me and the thing murdered her. It pinned her to the ceiling and lit the room on fire. My dad managed to save my brother and me, but he couldn't rescue my mom. He watched her burn, like I watched you burn.
And it drove him mad with grief, so he vowed to avenge my mother's death by hunting down the thing that took her from him. From us. And so he became a hunter of all the nasty creatures that go bump in the night. See, they're real. Practically all of the monsters you hear about in stories and legends are actually out there preying on innocent humans, and my dad learned everything he could about them all. He made it his mission to hunt each of them down until he could finally find the thing that killed his wife. And as my brother and I got older, he taught us everything he knew. He raised us into the life of hunters.
I knew how to put down ghosts, kill a werewolf, and take out a wendigo by the time I was thirteen. I was a better shot than most military sharp-shooters. I could read ancient books written entirely in Latin, because a lot of valuable information comes out of dusty old tomes. I could stitch up wounds received in the "line of duty", and believe me when I say I needed to do it pretty often. The kind of jobs we worked rarely ended without some form of injury.
And so my dad, brother, and I became very efficient hunters, and yet I wasn't able to enjoy the kind of life we lead. In fact I hated it. I wanted nothing to do with monsters and hunting. I wanted to go to school, and get a regular job, and have a wife and children. I wanted to be normal. So when I found out I had been accepted to Stanford, I ran away. I had a shouting match with my father and I just walked out, abandoning him and my brother. I came to California and focused on my education. I made friends and I studied hard. I met you. And for a while there, everything was perfect.
And then Dean showed up and said our dad was missing. Remember when Dean said our dad was on a hunting trip and hadn't been heard from in a few days? Yeah, that was a bad sign because obviously he wasn't hunting Bambi. So I left with Dean because I felt obligated to try and help him find my father. I felt obligated to help my dad too, if it came down to it.
But I should never have left, because there was something else coming, and much as I'd love to say I couldn't have known anything bad would happen to you, I'd be lying.
Jess, I had these awful dreams the week before you died. I saw you burning. I saw you dying. I saw it all, and I would wake up terrified and just bristling with the feeling that something big was coming.
And yet I still left with Dean.
How could I do that to you? How could I leave you so defenseless? I never told you about the real me, and I should have, because I should have known that after living so long as a hunter something bad was always just around the corner waiting to strike… But it's more than that.
I should have paid attention to those dreams because I knew they weren't just nightmares. I knew there was something horribly wrong. And I ignored it because I wanted to be normal. Because I wanted to pretend that nothing bad could happen because I had left all that behind me. Instead, I ended up leaving you behind me to die a terrible death when I could have saved you just by being there to protect you. Like I was trained to do.
Out of all the people I've saved, you're the one life that probably mattered most, and I failed you. I should have saved you Jess, and I am so incredibly sorry. I should have stayed behind to keep you safe. Honestly, I should have never had you move in with me. That would have been the surest way to protect you.
Because clearly I'm not meant to have a normal life. Since I was a baby death and destruction have followed me. I'm not normal. I'm a freak. And freaks should never grow close to people, because those people will only end up hurt. It's as if you were dead the moment I asked you out to that first dinner…
I swear I will avenge you. I've accepted that I can't be normal. I've accepted that I'm a freak. But I will at least be the freak who ends the thing that hurt you. I know it can't bring you back, and it kills me inside to know that nothing I do will actually make a difference. But I'm still going to take the bastard out. Because I owe you so much, and that's basically the least I can do. I love you Jess. And I'm so, so sorry.
Sam
Secondary Author's Note: I know this was a kind of downer letter, but I still thank you for reading it! I am working on many letter requests right now, but I definitely welcome more! Also, reviews make my day. :)
