Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ Zhai'helleva, Ashke ❯ The River's Just A River ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5

 

This is the last time

That I'm ever gonna come here tonight.

This is the last time I will fall

Into the place that fails us all inside.

 

Things were different.

 

The changes weren't big, or in-your-face, or even hardly noticeable at all, but they were there. It was such a subtle thing that their friends didn't even notice, but Sam could feel it. He and Jess were…off.

 

Of course, it was only natural for things to be a little unbalanced after such a bomb-dropping. Jess certainly couldn't be expected to just let it go and forget that nightmares were real and she had a boyfriend trained to fight them. If she had, Sam probably would have been highly suspicious.

 

Still, he couldn't say he liked the way things were now. He couldn't like the way Jess would hesitate for that split second when he said he was going out, the way she would avoid the subject of her nightmares on those nights when she jerked awake in the night and Sam would tug her close and hold her tight.

 

But she still rolled her eyes at his lame jokes, and she still teased him mercilessly when he ordered lattes and cappuccinos next to her straight-up black coffee, and she kept his secret without any urging. She still listened to him and talked to him and loved him.

 

So, yeah, things were different. But things were also the same, and these days that was more than enough.

 

I can see the pain in you.

I can see the love in you.

But fighting all the demons will take time.

It will take time.

 

Sam and Jess moved in together at the beginning of junior year, into a nice apartment off-campus that they got at a good price through Derek's cousin somehow-or-other.

 

The decision was not met with raised eyebrows or private mutters, but rather with smirks and murmurings of “Well, it's about time.” Derek, who had by now become Sam's best friend, was heard to chuckle about how Sam could stop pestering him to keep his crap on his side of the room and Jess's roommate had exactly the opposite relief: now she could actually have a clean space.

 

Meanwhile Sam was falling deeper and deeper every day, until one morning, as he was sitting in their kitchen watching Jess mix her coffee recipe (approximately one bag of coffee per cup of water) and listening to her grumble about how damned unnatural it was to be up at this hour (about nine-thirty), the thought occurred to him.

 

I'm gonna marry that girl.

 

The angels, they burn inside for us.

Are we ever

Are we ever gonna learn to fly?

The devils, they burn inside of us.

Are we ever gonna come back down,

Come around?

I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold.

 

Once Sam had reached his conclusion, he felt oddly complacent about it. He didn't feel any need to run out and buy a ring, or even to tell anyone. After all, what was the rush? He and Jess were still in college, for God's sake. He was working on a law degree and she wanted to become a psychologist. Both of those things would consume them for a while yet, and Jess wouldn't thank him for asking something like that of her now.

 

So, instead of rushing into things head-on, Sam did what Sam did, and sat down to think it out.

 

In the end, he came to the conclusion that they would simply have to have a long engagement. If Jess showed any desire to say yes at all—and he wasn't banking on that—he would make it clear that she shouldn't feel any obligation until at least graduation. The last thing he wanted was to back her into a corner, after all.

 

Unfortunately, he now had a rather daunting task ahead of him—one that made him wish he could just fight another werewolf as a proposal, instead.

 

This is the last time

That I'm ever gonna give in tonight.

Are there angels or devils crawling here?

I just want to know what blurs and what is clear to see.

 

It's one of those nasty facts of life—where there are graveyards, there are zombies, and where there are shops, there are salesmen.

 

Faced with a widely-grinning man intent on selling him a ring that would bankrupt him completely and still be only about half paid off, Sam thought he'd rather take the zombies. At least he knew how to fight zombies—suave guys in expensive suits were not his forte.

 

His thousands of arguments with his dad proved to be of quite a bit of use in this situation, and he was able to talk the smooth-talking, soul-sucking man into brings his sights down to something that was actually affordable to people without Ferraris.

 

But as Sam walked out of the ring shop with a much lighter bank account and the knowledge that he'd secured at least the ring part of his proposal, he couldn't help feeling that it was about time for the other shoe to drop.

 

Still, I can see the pain in you,

And I can see the love in you,

And fighting all the demons will take time.

It will take time.

 

It was a damn big shoe when it finally did fall on him a couple of weeks later, and, no surprise, it came in the form of Dean.

 

He came in the middle of the night, when the reasonable and sane were asleep in their beds, and on top of that he didn't use the door. Nor did he bother to keep it down—after all, why should it? It was his brother's house.

 

Unfortunately for our daring hero, said brother was not expecting visitors at midnight, and said brother was also excellent of hearing and highly skilled in hand-to-hand.

 

`Nough said.

 

It took almost ten minutes for Sam to stop yelling at his brother for being such an idiot. He spoke a couple of different languages, swearing in both, and with his impressively varied vocabulary, eh didn't even have to repeat himself once. His skills were actually rather formidable, even more so because, yes, he had grown a bigger set of lungs since the last time he saw his brother.

 

Finally, though, Sam ran out of words, and fell silent, glaring rather alarmingly. Dean looked calmly back, and neither of them said a word.

 

That was how Jess found them when she came home from work.

 

She came in griping, because the people at the bowling alley where she worked were more greedy than usual tonight, but her grumblings cut off abruptly as she closed the door and turned to see the Winchesters staring at her, one with an affectionate sort of smile and the other with an appreciative—and irritating—smirk.

 

“Hello…” she said slowly, apparently not noticing either of the looks. “Did anything...unusual happen while I was gone?”

 

“Jess,” Sam said. “You remember Dean. Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

 

He said it warningly, but apparently the warning fell on deaf ears, because Dean went right up to his brother's girl and leered.

 

“Let me tell you, hon, you are way out of my brother's league. Seriously.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Sam snapped, as Jess rolled her eyes and went to stand next to him.

 

Dean sighed and turned to face him again. “Listen, Sammy. I don't think it's something we should talk about here, okay?”

 

“Sure it is,” Sam replied coolly. “Jess knows already. About all of it.”

 

If Dean was surprised that Sam had actually gone through with it, he didn't show it. He simply shrugged and said, “Have it your way.”

 

“So?” Sam pressed, when Dean paused.

 

Dean sighed.

 

“Fine. I think something's wrong with Dad.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Sam asked, tone deceptively flat.

 

“Well, he's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.”

 

The angels, they burn inside for us.

Are we ever

Are we ever gonna learn to fly?

The devils, they burn inside of us.

Are we ever gonna come back down,

Come around?

I'm always gonna worry about the things that could break us.

 

“Be careful. Like, really careful. Extra, extra careful,” Jess cautioned later, watching Sam throw his things into his bag.

 

Sam smiled a little at her. “I'm always careful, Jess.” He went over to open his weapons drawer, and Jess's eyes widened as he pulled scythes and daggers out from under piles of jeans.

 

“And I'm…guessing those help,” she said.

 

“A little, yeah.”

 

“I wish you would let me come,” Jess said suddenly, changing the subject.

 

Sam looked quickly at her. “I told you before. It's too dangerous. You'd get hurt.”

 

“Yeah, plus I can't use a knife, I've never even held a gun, and I'd be more of a hindrance than I could ever be a help,” Jess said matter-of-factly. “I know, Sam. Doesn't mean I have to be practical about it.”

 

Sam chuckled, but it faded quickly into a frown.

 

“I wish I didn't have to leave you.”

 

Jess smiled. “And from that sentence I'd guess that either you've grown more attached me than is healthy or…you're worried about leaving me alone.” She did that adorable thing where she tilted her head a little, like an inquisitive puppy, and studied him. “And since I know you too well to think the former, I'm gonna have to assume you're worried. Don't be. I'll be perfectly fine, okay? You just worry about finding your dad.”

 

Sam looked warmly at her, and asked, “What would I do without you?”

 

She laughed. “Crash and burn.”

 

XXX

 

The next night, his first time trying to sleep away from Jess, he had the dream again. He woke up panting, drenched, and horrified, with visions flashing through his mind of her, spread above him, a beautiful, broken angel, burning, burning, burning…

 

Glancing over to make sure Dean was still asleep, Sam slipped out of bed and headed for the door, grabbing his phone along the way. He left so quietly that even Dean, so in tune with him even now, didn't move.

 

He stood outside in front of the motel, shivering, and dialed.

 

Jess took a while to come to the phone, and Sam reminded himself over and over again that it was late, and of course it would take her a while to answer. This didn't stop his heart from jumping with relief when her voice muttered into the phone, “The world had better be ending…”

 

“It's me,” Sam said in reply.

 

“Sam?” she asked, and he could hear her taking back the “world ending” comment in her mind. “What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt? You can't already be hurt. You're not that accident prone. I—”

 

“Jess,” he interrupted soothingly. “Relax. We're fine.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Hi.”

 

He chuckled. “Hi. Listen, the reason I was calling is…a little weird…”

 

“Sam,” she said, “you're a little weird. Weirdness does not scare me.”

 

“No,” he agreed. “But…well, I called to tell you to be careful this weekend, while I'm gone.”

 

“Uh...okay. Didn't we go over this already?”

 

“Well, yeah, but…I had a dream.”

 

“Okaaay…” she said, obviously wondering where this was going. “What was it about?”

 

“You.”

 

“What was I doing?”

 

“Burning.”

 

After a moment of surprised pause, she sighed. “Why couldn't you just dream something dirty, like normal people?”

 

“You were…pinned to the ceiling. Like…like my mother.” Now that he'd begun, Sam felt almost a compulsion to say it all.

 

More silence. Then, “Oh.”

 

“Listen, there's probably no reason to worry. I don't actually have dreams that come true. I'm probably just being stupid. But I don't want you taking any chances, all the same. Put down salt around the doors and windows, okay? Make sure it's in a ring at the dead and a line at the windows. Spirit deterrent.”

 

“Of course it is.”

 

“I'll be back as soon as I can. Day after tomorrow, tops. I have classes Monday anyway…”

 

“Sam. You're babbling. Calm down. I'll be fine.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just…”

 

“I know,” Jess cut him off. “I love you, too.”

 

And finally, finally, finally, Sam was able to smile.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

If I was to give in, give it up

And then

Take a breath—make it deep,

`Cause it might be the last one you get,

Be the last one

That could make us cold.

You know that they could make us cold.

 

It was surprising, how reluctant Dean was to drop him back at Stanford on Sunday night. He insisted that he wanted to keep searching for John—whom they hadn't seen a trace of the whole time they hunted that damn woman in while—but Sam knew better.

 

He wouldn't acknowledge facts, though, and Sam's anxiety for Jess prevented him from digging, and in the end it all came out the same way, anyway—with Dean watching as Sam walked away from him again.

 

The dorm was quiet when Sam went in, and for a few moments his heart clenched. But then his mind caught up with his fears, and he realized that the slat lines were undisturbed, and he could finally hear the shower going.

 

Feeling relieved now, Sam went into his and Jess's room, tossed his bags aside, and flopped down on his bed, closing his eyes as he fell back.

 

They opened on his nightmare.

 

Jess…pinned to the ceiling, bleeding, pale, and painfully beautiful. For one awful moment he stared, trying to will movement into his body, knowing exactly what was about to happen but certain that he could somehow prevent it.

 

“No!”

 

I'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold.

 

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Author's Note: Wow, that was a quick update. I hope the fact that I didn't divert drastically from the storyline didn't disappoint anyone, but that was kind of the point. I hope you liked it anyway. Review, please!