One in a Million Chapter Thirty-Five: Standing By, a supernatural fanfic

Chapter Thirty-Five: Standing By

~ I counted the stars tonight

Oh, how they shine so bright

I gather them all, so we perfectly align

While we gaze from far away

And separately watch the day

Come rising across the horizon in our minds

But now I know my heart is strong

Where you belong is by my side

So will you hold? 'Cause time is cold

But in your soul, I'm standing by

And now we know, our hearts are strong

Where we belong is side by side

And so we'll hold each other close

And in our souls, we're standing by ~

"It's okay, Jack. It's a crooked kind of perfect. I think I like it better now."

Then she turned and left the shed and Jack buried his head in his hands. Guilt was a crushing thing and now it was crushing him.

Why hadn't he gotten there sooner? If he had, then she wouldn't have gotten hurt. Max had led them to four wrong sheds before they finally found this one. But that wasn't on her. Max had just been trying to help. It was his fault. Jack had been the one to rush off and leave her all alone. He had promised that he would never leave her but he'd broken his promise! Would Marty hate him now?

Jack thought about the way she had looked when the fight was over.

Marty had looked like she had the day they had found her. She looked absent, detached, vacant, alive but not awake. Like the lights were on but no one was home. It wasn't the same as when she had purposefully demonstrated that emotionless act like she had earlier; like there wasn't even a person inside. This was a different kind of emptiness. It was more like Marty was hiding because she didn't want to face what had happened, and then she was lost because she couldn't find herself again. He had seen that emptiness before, on a hunt.

Sam had called it shock.

Marty hadn't even flinched when she picked up that vampire's head. There hadn't been much emotion in her when she had talked about the former owner of that head. Nor when she had talked to the head like it was some sick sort of ventriloquist dummy. But Jack had seen her eyes, and in them, he'd seen hate among the emptiness.

Just thinking of what Marty had said about the vampire she'd called Boyd made Jack's blood boil beneath his skin. The thought of that thing - that monster - touching her, made him angry. That thought made him so angry he didn't even have the words to express it.

The anger - the rage - the sheer undiluted hate that Jack felt coursing through his veins couldn't be described. He had never felt hate so strongly before, not even for the monsters or the angels in the apocalypse world. This kind of hate was new. It made him want to do something horrible. This hate burned him. This hate made Jack want to hurt the monster that had hurt Marty. Not just hurt it - no, no - that wouldn't be enough for him. This hate pushed him to do more than just hurt or kill. This hate was more than a want or an urge - this hate inside him was a craving. The kind of pain that Jack craved to inflict upon that monster was downright unfathomable, unthinkable, vile to the absolute purest definition of the word. Jack craved to make that monster pay.

He sat on the floor of the shed with his fists clenched as tight as his jaw, staring steadfastly at the corpse of the vampire that had hurt his friend and contemplating the reattaching of that vampire's head and subsequent resurrection of the thing just so he could watch as he slowly burnt it alive and twisted its horrid limbs into knots. How dare that thing lay one rotten finger on her. Jack desperately wished he could kill it again.

Because Marty was his. She was his sister and Jack decided that no one else should ever get to touch her. Ever. From now on, that was how it was going to be. That the new rule. Nobody gets to touch Marty except for him.

Jack wanted to go find her now. The thought of that vampire touching her made Jack want to touch her and make that thing's touch go away. Jack needed to go find her and make sure she was okay. But his family was talking about her so he decided to stay a little longer to listen.

"This is wrong," Dean muttered as he looked over the mess of scattered corpses Marty had left behind, "No way one kid does all this. No way."

"Did you see Martina's eyes?" Cas asked, shaking his head at the thought. "When she picked that vampire's head up and talked to it like it was a puppet, did you see her eyes?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah." If Jack didn't know better, he would have thought Dean sounded scared.

"They looked like a demon's," Cas added. This time, Dean shook his head.

"No, not like a demon's - not evil like a demon's, not necessarily. No, just... empty. Just empty, like Sam's when he lost his soul..." Dean trailed off, shaking his head while Sam just sort of stood there, looking uncomfortable.

"A soulless empath?" Cas questioned, "Is that even possible?"

Dean shrugged.

"I dunno, man! I dunno," He said with a huff, "All I do know is that there somethin' very dark inside that kid." He shuddered.

"D-dark? What-what do you mean?" Sam cut in.

"For her to do this -" Dean gestured to the carnage "- all by herself... Sammy, I don't know if she's souless or not, but there sure as Hell is something broken in there. This ain't self-defense. This was rage. I don't know what's goin' on with that girl, but Marty ain't right in the head."

"But we can't let her go now." Sam's voice might have been quiet but its tone was made of iron.

"I dunno, Sammy..."

"We made her a promise, Dean! We can't break it!" Sam argued, "So what if she's a little broken? We all are! But there is good in her just like there's good in all of us."

"Look around you, Sam!" Dean gestured to the corpses. "I'm not talking about depression or a hero complex here. We're talkin' bonafied nuts! Full-on Loony-Tunes!"

"Based off of Martina's behavioral patterns, we could very well be dealing with a sociopath," Cas spoke up calmly.

"Even if that's the case, she's still just a kid! " Sam said, pleading. "A-and, you know what? So what? We've dealt with worse threats than a sociopatic-empath-kid! And since we found her, Marty's been getting better. Every day she get's better - I've seen it! Jack makes her better. He brings her out of things like this. Maybe he can fix her. I think he should talk to her, you know, s-see if she's okay."

"No." Cas shook his head, firmly.

"W-why not?"

"Because I said no," Cas repeated.

"Cas, you've seen how she responds to him. If one of us goes out there, we might just make it worse," Sam reasoned.

Jack stood and left the shed then. Marty needed him and he wasn't going to waste any more time listening to them argue.

"Jack wait!" Cas called out.

"No."

"I said wait!" The angel's tone was a command, not a request.

Jack did not stop. "And I said no!"

Cas reached out and snagged Jack's arm, yanking him back. "We don't know what Martina is truly capable of! This might just be the beginning."

"I don't care! Marty's my friend," Jack ripped his arm free from Cas's grip. "And if I can help her, the rest doesn't matter."

Jack left his family standing in the shed with the vampire corpses, bewildered that Jack had just disobeyed.

"Did he just hit his terrible two's or is this the rebellious teenage years?" Dean asked the others after Jack had left.

Jack found Marty rather easily. She was sitting in the snow curled up with her chin on her knees and her back pressed against the shed's metal siding. She stared at the rose that she twirled between her fingers.

"Hello," Jack said, raising his hand. Marty didn't reply, she just stared at her rose. "Are you alright?" He tried again.

Marty sighed, yet still, she didn't move. She just considered the bloody rose like it meant something greater than it did like it held the answers.

"Do you think I'm crazy, Jack?" She asked him, her voice soft and childish. Jack hesitated.

"Well, do you?" He returned, carefully. Marty's lost yet tranquil expression crumpled into a frown.

"I don't know," She whispered, laying the rose lightly on the snow, "I didn't used to think so but..." She trailed off, gazing into the middle distance with an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"But what?" Jack sat down beside her and noticed the frosty trail of a tear on her pale skin. He brushed it away.

The simple action was enough to send a shiver down the angel boy's spine. Although the rosy hue tinting the tip of Marty's nose and cheeks was a testament to the frosty temperature; the shiver that ran down Jack's spine, leaving residual sparks lingering in his fingertips, had nothing to do with the cold. Jack studied Marty's winter-nipped rosy complexion. She looked very pretty and something about it made Jack's chest warm.

"But I don't know anymore." Marty seemed to come out of her trance, eying him warily. "Is that bad?"

Jack shook his head. "I wouldn't know."

"They think I'm crazy." Her voice broke and so did Jack's heart. "Cas and Dean - I heard them say I'm broken."

"No! You're not broken, you're amazing!" Jack grabbed her hands but she shook her head, averting her gaze.

"I killed them," She mumbled.

"You had to; they were monsters."

"So, I'm not broken?" Marty asked. Jack shook his head, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I don't think so. At least, no more than anybody else is," He replied, "No more than I am."

She nodded and was silent. Acting completely on impulse, Jack reached out, wrapping his arms around her torso, he pulled her into his lap. Marty didn't complain.

"Jack?" She spoke up a while later.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong with me?"

Jack sighed. Was this what talking to him was like?

"Nothing is wrong with you, Marty. You're perfect." He stated it like it was a fact and to him, it was.

"So, why don't I feel guilty?" She shook her head. "I killed them and that should earn me some measure of guilt, right? But instead of feeling bad, I don't feel anything. I should feel scared or shocked or angry but I don't. I don't feel anything ."

Jack frowned. "Sam says that numbness can be part of shock."

She shook her head again, her eyebrows pulling together.

"No, this isn't numbness. It's not that I feel empty, I just feel indifferent." Marty's breath caught and panic rose into her voice. "It's like I'm back in Copper Harbor again. I couldn't feel anything there either! I want to feel something but I can't and there's just nothing! I wanna feel something but I can't feel anything!"

"Whoa, whoa! Hey! You're okay!" Jack tried to calm her but his efforts were futile. She shot up from his lap, stumbling forward in a discombobulated state of panic. Marty gasped for breath, her chest heaving as she raked her hands through her jet-black hair and tugged at the roots as if trying to tear it out.

"I didn't feel anything till I met you guys and I don't wanna go back to nothing! Why did I never feel anything? There has to be something wrong with me!" Marty twisted to face him. Her grey eyes were dark and turbulent clouds just before a great tempest. Not angry, but powerful and natural, beautiful in a way that commanded respect. Yet she was still vulnerable, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Jack, what's wrong with me?! "

She gazed at him with wild desperation in her eyes and Jack felt his heart sinking in his chest. He had no words for her and he felt useless. Jack couldn't give her the answer. So, he just shook his head and pulled her close again, guiding her face into the crook of his neck and holding the sweet girl in his arms like she was made of glass. Feeling Marty's body flush against his ignited those sparks inside of him but he tried his best to ignore them.

"You're okay, just focus on me!" He said, rubbing circles on her back like Castiel sometimes did for him. Marty's breathing seemed to even out a little.

"Jack, I'm scared," She whimpered against his neck. He could feel her lips brushing against his skin and he felt this tugging sensation in his stomach. It felt good, Jack realized. The sparks exploded inside of him. He wanted more. But he pushed it down. Marty needed him and he had to focus. It took quite a bit of effort to ignore it.

"Why are you scared?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"I think I'm going insane."

Jack wasn't sure about that, but Marty's lips moving against his neck was definitely driving him insane. It felt so good, so unbelievably right! Ugh! Why couldn't he just focus on the moment at hand? He caught a strand of her hair and started twirling it around his finger in an attempt to both calm her and distract himself from this blissful feeling. It didn't work. Marty made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a sob, her warm breath fanning against his neck. Jack's hands acted on their own accord, gripping her waist tighter. He simply couldn't stop himself and he found that, honestly, he didn't want to. Jack liked touching Marty this way. This new feeling that was sprouting inside him felt amazing. But it was hard. Keeping his breathing under control nearly caused him physical pain.

"W-why would y- um- you think that? O-other than Dean and- a-and Cas?" It was too difficult for him to focus. He had to put some distance between their bodies, but that was hard when distance was absolutely the last thing he wanted. With all the willpower he had, Jack tried to gently push Marty away, just enough to look at her. But Marty didn't want to move, she clung to his shirt like it was a lifeline and Jack simply didn't have the strength to try to push her away again.

"I'm forgetting things, Jack," She choked out.

Jack's heart kept on breaking for her but these sparks inside him were making him ecstatic. He couldn't help it. He felt so bad and so good at the same time. It was so frustrating! Would it really be so wrong to indulge this feeling? Maybe if he gave the sparks what they wanted, then they would calm down?

Jack tangled his fingers in the hair at the base for her neck, tugging a little because it felt right and he wanted to. He turned his face towards her hair and took a deep breath. He had taken the blood away when he'd healed her and her hair smelled perfect. It made him smile.

"What are you forgetting?" He asked softly, speaking into her ear.

"I remember being kidnapped but then - nothing. There's nothing after that! It was like I woke up out here and then I heard them say that I'm broken and I think I really am!" She was panicking again, her breaths quickening against his neck. It was maddening. His grip on her waist tightened again.

"No, no! Shh! It's okay, you're okay!" He tried to calm her. Jack did have to admit that what she'd said didn't sound good. Memory gaps are never a good thing, at least in his experience.

"No, I'm not! I'm not okay! Jack, I can't remember what I did!" Marty clutched onto him even tighter, anguish filling her voice. "I know I killed them, I just can't remember doing it! That's why I can't feel anything! And this isn't the first time this has happened!"

Marty pulled away from him then, and Jack's breath caught in his throat.

' When did you get so beautiful? ' He thought. Even with tears streaming down her face, Jack couldn't remember seeing a more beautiful girl. She was perfect. How had he not noticed this before?

Jack let his eyes roam over her face, drinking it all in.

' I think I'm in love with you ,' The realization hit Jack like a ton of bricks. But it made sense because all Jack could think about was how much he wanted her. He wasn't supposed to fall in love, that wasn't how this was supposed to go. But it had, and he had and all Jack could comprehend was how much he wanted Marty to be his.

She was so wonderful and she didn't even know it. How little she saw of her own beauty. All Marty could see were her flaws but Jack thought they made her even more beautiful. If only she could see it.

Marty opened her mouth to speak but Jack pressed a finger to her lips. He tried his best not to think about how soft they felt under his finger and focus instead on what Marty needed from him.

"Don't talk," He said, "It's okay to be scared, Marty. But you are an amazing person, and you're so pretty and I wish you could see that. So, if you're broken, then you're the most beautiful broken thing I've ever seen. Whatever is happening to you, we're gonna find a way to fix it. I promise."

Marty shook her head, closing her eyes like she couldn't even look at him. "I think I'm losing my mind."

The response tumbled from Jack's lips before he'd even thought about it.

"Then I'll help you find it again."

Marty looked up at him then, furrowing her brow like she couldn't believe anyone would say that to her, let alone mean it. She was like a porcelain doll, her perfection was a delicate illusion. Jack could see the fractured glass of Marty's soul through her eyes. Broken pieces like shattered glass just waiting for someone to mend them; Jack felt like that sometimes.

"What if you can't? What if you can't fix me? Jack, I don't think this is something you can fix," She sniffed, wrapping her arms around herself like she was holding herself together. Jack smiled gently at her.

"Well, I suppose if you cannot look on the bright side, then I will sit beside you in the dark," He said, quoting what she had said to him the night before. Their talk by the lake house seemed so long ago now.

"Ironic," She huffed, laughing just the slightest bit.

"What is?"

"That quote," She answered, shrugging, "The Mad-Hatter says it. He's crazy."

"Oh." Jack knew who the Mad-Hatter was; he had seen Alice in Wonderland, the Disney cartoon at least. He guessed that probably wasn't the best thing for him to have said.

"I like him though. He's my favorite book character." She frowned again. "Guess I know why now; I'm just like him."

"No, you're not." Jack shook his head. "You don't wear a top-hat!"

Marty rolled her eyes and shook her head, cracking a wry smile. "Yeah, okay."

Jack felt the sparks shooting through him as he pulled her close again. Unfurling his massive, powerful, metaphysical wings, he wrapped them around Marty's tiny, fragile body, encasing her in their warmth and softness. It felt right. This was where she was supposed to be. He wanted to keep her there forever.

Jack wanted to keep her forever.

"Even if you do go crazy, I'm not going to leave you," He breathed, petting her hair, "I'm gonna be here every step of the way."

' I'm never gonna leave you again. '

The sun sank lower until it dipped below the white Kansas horizon as Sam, Dean, and Castiel worked to remove the vampire corpses from the property of whoever owned the shed. Jack made sure to block the bodies from Marty's view, instead directing her gaze upward.

"Marty!" He nudged her gently and she glanced up at him, "The stars are out."

Marty angled her head towards the night sky and Jack grinned as he watched that wonder-filled expression bloom across the girl's face, just as it always did whenever she looked out into the cosmos. Her eyes reflected the starlight from above and so did her soul. Jack could see the soft, pure light, twinkling and pulsing within and around her, just like a star. Marty's soul could have been made of starlight.

"They're beautiful here," She said, her voice soft.

"What do they remind you of tonight?" Jack asked. Marty's face scrunched up as she thought and Jack waited, patient and eager, to hear whatever thought's her beautiful mind would give him.

"You," She sighed after a while, "Tonight they remind me of you."

Jack's brows pulled together, expressing his confusion. "Me? Why me?"

"Because you're ninety-three percent stardust," She replied. Marty shared a secret smile with the sky, tilting her head a little and keeping her eyes on the stars above. Jack shook his head.

"I don't understand."

"It's from a poem." She shrugged.

"How does it go? Can I hear it?"

Marty glanced at him and smiled before turning away and leaning her weight back on his chest.

" We have calcium in our bones,

iron in our veins,

carbon in our souls,

and nitrogen in our brains.

Ninety-three percent stardust,

with souls made of flames

we are all just stars

that have people names."

"I liked that," Jack said after she'd finished. "Thank you."

Marty shook her head. "No, Jack. Thank you. "

"For what?"

"For saying that you'll stay with me, no matter what," She sighed, "And coming to rescue me. And for telling me I'm okay." Jack shrugged.

"Anyone would have done that."

Marty shook her head.

"No, not anyone. That vampire who claimed to be my friend - she never rescued me. All of her promises were empty."

Jack didn't know what to say, so he opted for a silent nod.

"Ik hou van je, zoet wezen," Marty whispered. Her voice so quiet he almost didn't catch it.

"What does that mean?"

"It's Dutch."

"Okay, but what does it mean?"

"Not telling!" She smirked up at him. He shrugged and nodded before tilting his head down to whisper in her ear.

"Te amo, stella-puella."

Marty twisted around to face him, a playful frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Okay, what was that?" She asked. Jack shrugged innocently and hoped the dim starlight would hide the fierce blush spreading across his face.

"Latin," He answered.

"What?"

"You're not the only one who can speak another language!"

Marty didn't look amused. "Latin's a dead language."

"No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is."

"No, it's not."

"It totally is."

"Well, I speak it and I'm not dead." Jack grinned at the glare she was giving him.

"So what's it mean then, oh wise half-angel one?"

"Not telling!" He chirped. He should have known better.

Marty huffed and rolled her eyes before turning away again. Then she jabbed her elbow straight back into Jack's stomach.

Jack groaned, rubbing his side.

Marty had very boney elbows. It was very painful.

"Moron," She chuckled under her breath.

"Pipsqueak."

"I can hit you again."

"Please don't."