What the Reaper Saw
K Hanna Korossy
Jessica didn't mind her job. Of course she didn't; Reapers were made to reap. There was a lot of satisfaction in guiding souls to their rest.
But…watching the Winchesters, albeit invisibly? That was actually surprisingly fun, too.
She'd heard plenty of stories about the hunter pair, whispered between Reapers, warned by Death, mumbled by a few dazed dead. She knew they'd released one bound Reaper, saved another from death, were accused of killing a third, until it turned out Tessa actually destroyed herself. They weren't the enemy, even if they had, well, killed the old Death and weren't exactly popular with the new one.
So it was kinda neat to have the opportunity to observe them and see for herself if they were as formidable, insane, driven, unique as she'd heard.
And, wow. She'd had no idea.
00000
The day after she met Dean Winchester, after she'd gone to reap him because he'd killed himself—temporarily—to talk to a ghost (Who did that?). The day she'd been assigned by Death to keep watch over the Winchesters and report back on what they were up to. That day, Jessica wondered if she'd be reaping Dean sooner than they'd thought, after all, because he didn't look all that great.
Brushes with Death did that to you. Dean had even gone to visit the Lady herself, so, no surprise he was feeling it after. His brother Sam was clearly worried, had even coerced Dean into letting him drive, which Jessica gathered was a rare occurrence. As was the apology Dean had tendered his brother. But he said he was fine, which Jessica knew from experience were frequent last words of the dead (Mortals!), and staggered off to his room to fall into bed.
"Yeah, this is fun," Jessica sighed as she looked over the motionless figure, then around his room. He did have some cool décor, at least, but she was pretty sure that wasn't what Death was interested in. She studied Dean a moment more, but as terrible as he looked, he no longer had the aura of impending demise. "I'll catch you later," she told a sleeping Dean, and stepped through the door.
She didn't have to go far.
"Whoa!" Jessica hop-stepped aside.
She hadn't spent much time on Earth except with released souls, and wasn't used to being walked through. Not that Sam Winchester noticed her as he rolled out some kind of mat in the hallway next to his brother's door.
"And what are you up to, Stretch?" she mused.
Another layer went on the mat, something Jessica was pretty sure was called a sleeping bag. Made sense, as it was soon joined by a pillow and then one really tall Winchester sticking out of the end. The hall lights were turned down low, but Jessica didn't need human illumination to see the frown etched into Sam's face as he closed his eyes and turned toward Dean's room, ear tuned to his recently deceased brother.
"Aww, he's babysitting. That is so cute," Jessica said with a grin. This totally trumped those adorable cat videos her sister Reapers sometimes shared.
Death didn't seem quite so charmed by Jessica's report. But, whatever, as long as it wasn't Jessica she was mad at. And at least maybe this wouldn't be the boring assignment Jessica had privately feared, after all.
00000
"You turning in?" Sam asked his brother as Dean stood from the kitchen table.
"Yeah. You?"
Jessica sighed. "You two are such witty conversationalists."
"In a little bit. There's one more site I want to check out."
Dean pointed a beer bottle at Sam. "Don't stay up all night again."
"Yes, Mom."
Both brothers paused. "Oops," Jessica murmured. Ah, yes, Mama was in some Hell dimension. Jessica had kinda forgotten.
Sam gave his brother an apologetic smile, and Dean thumped him on the shoulder as he walked out the door, already forgiving and forgetting.
Jessica shook her head. "You guys…"
For all their badass reps, one thing the Reaper had quickly learned was that the Winchesters were really big ol' teddy bears. They loved each other, of course, even to the point of self-sacrifice; that was in all the stories and rumors. (Although some did question how physical that love could be. They were wrong, of course, but no one was going to hear it from her.) But it was the daily little check-ins and looks and touches and thoughtful gestures that impressed Jessica (or gagged her, depending on the day). Not to mention the way they worried about everyone else, from missing Mama to adopted nephilim to angel buddy to the whole freakin' world. Even some of the monsters they killed got to their soft little hearts.
How two big saps like this had survived for so long, let alone taken down the likes of Eve, Hell's most elite, and God's sister, Jessica couldn't quite explain. So far it had all just been reading books, a few small hunts, and lots and lots of flannel and alcohol.
She followed Dean out of the kitchen now, perking up a little at the thought that maybe he wasn't quite ready to turn in yet. He got up to all sorts of interesting things in his room sometimes behind closed doors. The video and DVD collection under his bed alone…
He walked past his room without pausing, and Jessica frowned. "Lying to little bro again, Dean?" she asked. Rhetorically, of course.
Dean stopped in front of another door, Jack the nephilim's. He opened it quietly, and peered inside.
The kid was sleeping like a baby who wasn't, you know, capable of erasing Jessica with a snap of his fingers.
She was always uneasy around the nephilim and the angel, constantly expecting one of them to realize she was there and do something about it. But so far her cover was holding. Still, she tried to steer clear of her fellow supers as much as possible.
But Dean wasn't looking at the nephilim like he was the powerful, reckless, scary being he was. In fact, his face softened as he watched the sleeper.
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Marshmallow." Both of them. Squishy, gooey marshmallows.
Dean closed the door and headed back to his room. He changed (sometimes she really wished she was a sexual being!) and got ready for bed, and then turned out the lights. The last thing he did before sleep was make sure the angel blade was still wedged between his bed and desk, ready to grab at a moment's notice.
Okay, marshmallows with teeth.
00000
So, this was different.
Reapers were no strangers to alternate dimensions; they regularly crossed the boundaries of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory as they escorted the dead, not to mention Death's Library where they waited when not needed. No big deal.
Jessica had never been in an alternate universe, though, an alternate Earth.
Death had told her to stick with the Winchesters, so when they'd crossed through that little interdimensional tear, she'd slipped in after them. Not like she couldn't get back if she wanted to, right?
She wasn't so sure anymore.
This whole universe felt…wrong. It prickled her skin like an electric charge, left her shaky and unsure. She'd tried to go talk to Death (this Death, her Death, whatever), but nothing happened when she spread her wings. Were there Reapers in this world? God and Heaven? If one of the Winchesters died here, could she even reap them?
What had those two mortal klutzes gotten her into?
Sam, she could tell, was as quietly freaked out as Jessica was. He was scared about being there, about not getting back. "You always were the smart one," she muttered.
But Dean? Dean kinda seemed like he was in his element. Maybe thanks to that legendary time he'd spent in Purgatory? Or maybe just because he was a simple kind of guy, and it didn't get much simpler than survival.
"Books," Sam said.
The men were sitting around a campfire, eating something that looked disgusting even to a Reaper. At least they weren't dead yet, Jessica sighed. Death would probably not be happy if her pets got lost in an alternate world, and took their guardian Reaper with them. In fact, the two seemed content for the moment, listing things they missed from their world.
"TV," Dean countered.
"Mattresses."
Dean nodded appreciatively. The boy did love his bed. "Hamburgers."
Jessica blinked. "Really?" It seemed like every second meal he ate was a hamburger.
Something rustled in the underbrush, and Sam gave it a hard look. "Guns." Dean silently pulled the one from his belt and held it up. Sam amended that to "bullets."
"Milkshakes."
"Internet." As Dean perked up, Sam added quellingly, "For information, not porn."
"Spoilsport," Jessica and Dean said in chorus.
"My baby," Dean continued significantly, like he'd topped anything Sam said.
Apparently he did, because Sam tipped his head in acknowledgement and went quiet. For a minute, anyway, before murmuring, "Home."
"Hey, home's wherever we are, right?" Dean reached for a stick and poked the fire, as usual looking for anything to distract from the honesty of what he'd said.
There….was something to that, though, Jessica realized. She could be trapped here a while; Death could surely retrieve her if and when She wanted, but there was no telling when that would be. It could be in such worse company, though. Even if she remained invisible and unknown, Jessica kinda liked being with these two. Like her very own personal chick-flick. (Hey, the Winchesters, especially Dean, watched a lot of movies.)
Sam, after a long look at his brother, lay back, arms tucked under his head. "Apples," he finally said.
"Dude, seriously? You could have anything you wanted and you choose apples? 'Least you could do is make it apple pie."
And the moment passed, the two launching into a friendly argument about the merits of their favorite foods. Jessica had tried food; she didn't see the attraction, but maybe it didn't taste like molecules to mortals. At any rate, she let her unease drift and settled back to see who won the Food War, oddly comforted along with the brothers by the familiarity.
When weeks later Dean headed over into another alternate world while Sam stayed home, Jessica would be torn over who to follow. The reminder of that night around the fire pulled her after Dean in the end, leaving again the reassurance of home.
Taking a little bit of it along for Dean, even if he didn't know it.
00000
Reapers were asexual, and they didn't have human morals. Which was to say that Jessica didn't think twice about following one of the Winchesters into the bathroom, but didn't get much out of it, either. Not like it was anything new; a surprising number of humans died in bathrooms.
Mortals still had the ability to shock and disgust her, though. And the one called Clegg, who'd been willing to auction off Sam in pieces while others watched, had been one of the worst Jessica had seen. She was glad she hadn't had to be the one to reap him. Instead, she'd silently followed the Winchesters home, through a pep-talk from Dean that hadn't had much effect. And then, without hesitation, into the shower with Sam.
Where the younger Winchester, thinking he was alone, broke down into tears.
"Yeah, I don't really blame you there," Jessica sighed. "Your kind can be really cruel—I mean, I don't need to tell you that—but that was crazy even for me."
Sam scrubbed his skin and sniffled.
"It's over, though, right? Dean to the last-second rescue, all's well that ends well?" Which reminded her of the time she'd reaped that playwright in England…
Jessica shook her head: not important right now. Sam Winchester was faltering, and the world kinda needed him right now.
"Look, I know you can't hear me, but, you know you're not in this alone, right?" She didn't have to check to know Dean was not far, trying to figure out a way to encourage his brother. "You've still got all your body parts, and your brother, and, seriously, a really impressive array of hair products. Things could be a lot worse." (And would be soon, according to Death, but that was in the future. Reapers only dealt with the Now.)
Sam took a long, shuddering breath, and rubbed his hand over his face a few times. Then he turned the water off and grabbed the towel.
"Man, I wish I could enjoy the view more," Jessica said wryly. But her heart wasn't in it. Sam had been treated as an object enough that day, and Jessica could feel his pain. It was true Reapers weren't human, but for all their impassivity in the face of death, they had to be empathic beings to do their jobs well.
Sam dressed with spare movements, then went straight to bed. And lay staring up at the ceiling.
"It'll be better in the morning," Jessica whispered.
Reapers did not experience time, nor hope. But perhaps the Winchesters were rubbing off on her, because she felt both that long night.
00000
Thank God Reapers stayed real and invisible even in drawing—animated?—worlds. Although the talking (talking!) dog did frown in Jessica's direction a few times.
The Winchesters led weird lives, even for mortals.
00000
Another day, another close call. Jessica was starting to wonder why a Reaper wasn't stationed with the Winchesters at all times. If not for them (although they'd needed one a ridiculous amount of times) then for all those whose paths they crossed, and promptly ran over.
It was another alternate world this time, one shockingly alien even to Jessica. Tentacled creatures that wanted to devour this reality, first by claiming Dean as consort. Jessica didn't worry about it—too much—knowing Dean wasn't slated to die that day, just like she hadn't been (really!) when Sam had been a second away from losing his heart to that nasty auction. But still, seeing a interdimensional door open (which was how many times this month?) and that horror begin to emerge? It was a good thing Reapers didn't have nightmares.
The brothers drove home in silence. Both were injured and hadn't slept and were weary. "Just another Tuesday," Jessica said from the back seat, not that anyone could hear her.
"You sure you're—?" Sam started at some point near dawn.
"I'm fine, Sam."
Right. Even Jessica knew that wasn't his fine voice.
Finally back home, Dean trudged off to shower while Sam stood watching him, gaze hooded but thoughts clear as day. (A Winchester, worried about his brother? Get out!) Jessica trailed after the would-be sacrifice, through Dean's ablutions, then his throwing himself in bed.
"You keep frowning that way, your face is gonna freeze like that," Jessica said softly.
Dean tossed and turned. Jessica was just about ready to leave him to it, when suddenly he flipped the light on and leaned over. He fished underneath his bed for a moment, and finally drew out a video tape. Dean gave it a hard look, then chucked it in the trash. The lights went back off, and he turned determinedly to sleep.
Jessica drifted over to see what he'd thrown out. She didn't need mortal light to see the title: Sweet Princess Asuka Meets the Tentacles… Ah.
She gazed speculatively at Dean. "It's not so fun when you live it, huh?"
Dean, of course, didn't answer.
She left to see what Sam was up to. Probably ordering gourmet licorice or fancy car wax to cheer up his big bro.
Seriously, every single story she'd ever heard about these two were probably true: their crazy lives (cartoon-world and tentacle monsters!), their fantastic luck in staying alive, their fierce devotion to each other. But she was pretty sure no one got quite how much they just cared for each other.
It was kind of a relief when Death said Jessica could manifest and offer the brothers help with the witch who was killing Reapers. Finally, a chance to say some of what she'd been thinking.
But all she ended up mentioning was the hair products and the video tape. Because she actually kind of respected what they had. In a world that made much of love, it was rare to see the real deal quite so real.
Of course, they probably thought she left after they stopped Rowena. Foolish humans.
Oh, Michael, did you mess with the wrong brothers…
The End