Title: I miss most, even now, his hands
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Carol Ann Duffy
Warnings: spoilers for 5.20
Pairings: Sam/Jessica, Sam/(not)Brady
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 230
Point of view: third
The body is so small. Barely able to contain him. Puny and weak—how can any demon want a sack of flesh surrounding the power granted from the Boss' own hand?
But he has a task, given by Azazel, from the Boss himself. An important task. He has to get the whole thing started.
As the months pass, as Brady nearly ruins himself, and cries in Sam's arms, and gives Sam everything he has, and finally pushes Sam to sweet, delectable Jess—he falls a little in love with Sam. He sees the potential in Sam, the power, the anger, the will. Sometimes, watching Sam and Jess dance or laugh or kiss, he can barely wait to rip Jessica from him in fire and blood. He had Sam first. He'll have pieces of Sam forever.
Tonight's the night. Sam will be home soon, and Jessica's made cookies, and she invites Brady in when he knocks because this discussion's been a long time coming. He knows she's seen his eyes on Sam—always Sam, beautiful Sam, Sam who tried so very hard to save him.
don't don't, Brady begs, don't don't
Jessica offers him an oven-warm cookie because she's a good girl. He takes a bite and murmurs, "Delicious."
(When Sam thrusts the knife into Brady's long-dead body, he feels those strong hands, and the potential swells out, and he thinks, yes.)