'Sam says hi, by the way,' Dean said, through a mouthful of roast chicken.

His mother looked concerned, pausing in the middle of passing Carmen a plate. 'Is he doing okay?'

Dean snorted. 'Livin' the high life. He'll be fine when he's peeled his forehead off the floor.'

Carmen rolled her eyes. 'Dean.'

'What? Some friend of Sam's turns up with some of the hard stuff, he's a responsible adult, he can handle it-'

Mary Winchester cut Dean off with a frown. 'Dean, I thought we'd discussed this.'

Dean rolled his eyes.

He and Carmen lived ten minutes away from his mom, so after her divorce from John, and Sam leaving for Stanford, they'd made a habit of coming for lunch every Sunday. His mom was a good cook, so Dean usually enjoyed himself, though it was kind of alarming how well Carmen and his mom got on.

'Are you caught up on Dr Sexy yet, Mary?' Carmen was asking.

'Yes, actually. God, can you believe about Doctor Piccolo?'

SPN SPN SPN

'I can't believe it,' Sam said to the pitch-black room.

There was the sound of someone coming down the stairs, treading carefully, and then Jess's voice came out of the darkness. 'Just a power outage, right?'

Sam gestured vaguely at the ceiling. 'I was standing here. I was right here and they just went out. Just like that.'

'Shit.'

They fumbled their way back upstairs, Sam's right hand on the back of Jess's top, his left groping along the wall. On the landing, Jess started feeling around for something. 'Sam, do you know where the matches are?'

Sam found the matches at the back of a drawer, along with a packet of ancient tealights, and they lit them one by one to carry them into their bedroom.

Once the windowsills and the corners of the floor were filled with tiny glowing flames, Jess sat on the bed, sitting back against the pillows. Sam stretched out, laying his head in her lap; she wound her fingers into his hair, lazily.

Thunder crackled, faint and fair-off.

'You think that's why the electrics crapped out?' said Jess quietly.

'Maybe.'

It thundered again, booming like the heartbeat of water on rock.

'I hate storms,' said Sam.

'I kind of like them,' said Jess.

More thunder, and this time it was louder, as if it came from directly above them.

'Getting closer.'

'Mmm.'

Then light bleached the room, and in a silent half-second Sam glimpsed the fork of lightning lance the sky.

Jess said, 'I wish it would rain.'

'Will you marry me?' Sam turned his head to look up at her.

She leaned down, kissing him on the temple. He felt her smiling against the delicate skin. 'Duh.'

Sam smiled at her, sleepily, though she wouldn't be able to see it in the dark.

'I don't know, Carmen,' Dean mumbled. 'He's a weird kid, okay? He's a weird, geeky little kid.'

She turned over in bed to face him. 'C'mon, babe. I only asked why you two don't get on.'

Dean huffed, rolling over. 'We do get on.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Your mom says otherwise.'

'For Chrissakes. We don't not get on. Okay?'

'Yeah. Okay.' She laid a cool hand on his bicep. 'You know you can talk to me.'

'What is there to talk about?'

SPN SPN SPN

'Jess?'

There was a strange smell in his nostrils. Something weirdly acrid, and his throat was dry.

His eyes felt sealed shut, so he reached for his glass of water with them closed, only to remember that he hadn't got one the night before- of course, they'd turned in early. He turned over in bed and burrowed his face into the pillow-

Heat. Heat on the side of his face and then Sam was sitting up with his heart thudding and he looked up at the ceiling and-

-and saw something impossible.

Wordless, he mouthed her name, and a patch of red bloomed on her stomach as she stared down at him, pinned like a bug-

Sam moved at last, rising up off the bed-

And fire, fire was everywhere, clawing and roiling over the ceiling like a rampant dragon, and Jess's face was blurred through the wall of heat and Sam choked on smoke-

Suddenly strong hands gripped his biceps, manhandling him off the bed and towards the door as he began to cough. Sam struggled against them, screaming her name, trying to fight his way back in there, but then they were out in the cool night air and Brady, it had been Brady, was grabbing his wrists and talking to him, 'Sam, man, calm down, you gotta calm down, I've dialled 911-'

He was shaking and wild-eyed, he knew, still struggling. 'Jess- she's in there, she's still in there, let me go, let me go, LET ME GO-'

Somehow Brady was stronger than him, keeping hold of Sam's wrists while he strained to run back. 'No! No way, Sam, it's suicide, look at you-'

'JESS! JESS!'

Sam finally managed to twist loose, and instantly buckled to his knees, coughing, and there were tears streaking his cheeks. He managed to get up, but then Brady had a hold of his shoulders again, and he was talking, just talking, and oh God she was in there she was still in there she was still in there-

SPN SPN SPN

The ringing of his cell woke Dean up. He shifted comfortably, lying in a patch of sunlight. 'Carmen...?'

She was lying bedside him, eyes still closed.

He sighed and reached for the phone. 'Hello?'

'Dean? This is Dean's number, right?'

Dean frowned. 'Who is this?' He looked at the Caller ID. It said 'Sam'.

'I'm Brady, Dean, from the party. Look, it's Sam.'

He sat up straight. 'What about Sam?'

A sigh. 'There's been a fire.' Then, 'No no no, Sam's okay, he's getting checked out by the paramedics, but... Jess, she...'

'Let me talk to him,' said Dean.

'I- I don't think- he's not really- he was hysterical, they had to put an oxygen mask on him-'

'I'll be there in three hours,' said Dean, and he put the phone down.