Locked Doors and Barred Windows - SN fic - PG13

[tigriswolf]

Title: Locked Doors and Barred Windows
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer:  Not my characters, ‘cept for the ones that are. Just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for pilot
Pairings: Sam/Jess
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1930
Point of view: third

Jessica knew that Sam loved her. She also knew there were parts of him she couldn’t touch, never came close to touching. He had walls and locks, so many doors she couldn't open without a key—but, still, she was certain he loved her. 

They met on her twentieth birthday. She’d been out with her sisters, Molly and Kate; he was their waiter. Molly had shamelessly flirted with him. He’d blushed at every comment directed his way, got flustered, messed up their orders. It was so adorable none of them could be angry with him.

Molly, the oldest at twenty-four, pinned his age at nineteen or twenty, a puppy-dog manboy. She looked pointedly at Jessica; Ask him out, her eyes said.

Jessica shook her head, blushing for all she was worth. Molly always tried to fix her up, with her friends, with their cousins’ friends, with strangers on the street.

Kate, at eighteen, was just cashing in on having Molly for a sister and spent the whole dinner laughing at Molly’s flirtations and Sam’s embarrassment.

After they finished and left a big tip, Jessica looked back and saw him smiling while watching them leave.

For two weeks she couldn’t get him out of her head, couldn’t erase his smile or the way his voice called to a part of her she didn’t know she had.

Then Daniel, another English major, asked her out. He was gorgeous, a blond-haired, blue-eyed California boy. His skin was sun-kissed and he’d the body of a swimmer—they made a beautiful couple, entering the restaurant, and by chance they were seated in Sam’s section.

She wondered if he remembered her as he took their drink orders, and by his smile she knew he did.

Daniel kept up a steady stream of conversation, about books and professors and movies. She nodded, made noises of agreement, but she was watching Sam.

He was tall, one of the tallest men she’d ever seen. She couldn’t tell through his uniform, but she’d bet he was in better shape than Daniel. Sam’s hair flopped adorably into his eyes, a dark brown bordering on black, and his eyes were green, an absolutely stunning shade she’d swear she could get lost in.

Okay, she told herself, cut back on studying the waiter. You’re here with Daniel. Focus on him.

Jessica tuned back into the conversation and began actually responding. But she couldn’t help notice that Daniel’s smile was nowhere near as beautiful as Sam’s and didn’t kindle a fire in her soul.

She and Daniel didn’t go out again after that.

- 

A month passed. She learned Sam’s schedule and became a regular. They talked, learned about each other. 

He was in pre-law, working three jobs to make rent. He’d gotten a free ride, but couldn’t live in the dorm they provided.

“I need space,” he said, explaining with a shrug. She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

Jessica spoke about her childhood, with Molly and Kate, and the brother who died when she was ten.

“He was sixteen,” she told him softly, her coke held tightly between her hands. “He’d just gotten the car.” Tears pooled in her eyes, as they always did when she thought of Greg. “It wasn’t his fault. The-the bastard—” she always called him that, no matter who she was talking to “—was driving drunk. He hit Greg. Greg died instantly.”

A few tears slid down her cheeks; Sam leaned forward and wiped them away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. She looked up and met his eyes.

“Do you have a brother?” she asked and he nodded.

“Dean. He’s four years older than me.” Something in Sam softened and tightened at the same time. “He pretty much raised me.”

She smiled and reached out, touching his hand. He looked at her hand, then into her eyes and smiled in return.

- 

They began dating after that. She told him everything; her past was an open book and she hid nothing. 

But Sam—she knew there were things he didn’t tell her and probably never would. She knew his dad wasn’t happy he’d chosen college—which, honestly, shocked the hell out of her and didn’t make any sense—and that his childhood hadn’t been as happy as hers.

He wasn’t abused, she was fairly certain of that, even though his body was horribly scarred. Sam didn’t explain and finally she quit asking.

They moved in together after six months of dating. Molly smirked at her. “What do you say, Jessie?”

Jessica laughed and hugged her. “Thanks, Mol,” she whispered in her big sister’s ear. “Thanks for flirting with the hottest waiter in the world.”

“No prob,” Molly replied and fluffed Jessica’s hair.

They resumed packing up boxes of Jessica’s stuff. It would mostly be her junk making the new apartment livable because Sam didn’t have much: clothes, textbooks, binders, and three pictures—and that was all.

“Who’s this?” she’d asked, the first time she’d been in his apartment. The photo was of a man—an absolutely gorgeous man—with short dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He grinned at the camera, looking completely happy; he wore a blue shirt with a leather jacket over it.

“Dean,” Sam’d answered and then said, “C’mon, Jess, the kitchen’s this way.”

Jessica knew that the Dean picture—and the others, of Sam’s parents and the one of him and Dean—would have a special place on their wall.

Sam’s past was so mysterious. His body was so scarred, so strong, and his mind sharp as a whip. His temper was long; he’d try his best to defuse a situation before he’d get mad, and usually it worked. She’d only seen him angry once, when they’d been at a party. Some guy had danced too close to her, entered her space, and touched her where she only let Sam touch her.

Sam had moved quicker than she’d seen anyone move before, liquid grace like Diego, Molly’s old cat. She had never noticed how dangerous he could look before.

He grabbed the groper’s shoulder and swung him around, lifting him up, and said, “Leave her alone.” His voice was hard and cold, frozen rage, and Jessica couldn’t figure out the expression on his face.

They left the party and Sam returned to being her calm, collected boyfriend. He laughed and smiled, and they never spoke of his actions. That night, cuddled against his broad chest, held in his arms, Jessica wondered about him. About his past, about the scars she’d spent hours tracing.

“Tell me about Dean,” she whispered, thinking he was asleep and wouldn’t hear her.

“He protected me,” Sam whispered back. “He taught me almost everything I know. It nearly killed him when I left.” He chuckled sadly, pulling her closer. “I made him pick sides, me or Dad. I did that so often growing up. I regret it now, looking back. He hated it, picking one of us.” He sighed, nuzzling her hair. “How could I do that to him, Jess?”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself up and kissing him softly on the lips. “Because he was your big brother, Sam. You said he took care of you. Of course you’d go to him to help you.” She slid back down and snuggled against him. “Thank you,” she said, knowing what it had cost him to speak of the past.

She fell asleep to his silent sobbing, wondering how to comfort him about wounds she couldn’t see.

-

It was a year after the party and she’d almost forgotten how dangerous Sam could be.

They were happy, thinking of marriage and children, and he’d met the rest of her family, not just Molly and Kate. Her mom loved him and Daddy respected him.

“Reminds me of Greg,” her daddy said then kissed her forehead goodbye.

Molly and Kate teased him mercilessly about how embarrassed he’d been when they first met. He took it all gracefully and even teased back, making everyone laugh.

To everyone but Jessica he seemed happy, completely normal, like he belonged. To Jessica, however, he seemed like a wolf among a pack of Chihuahuas. He could pretend well, she realized, and she also realized she didn’t know him at all.

It scared her for a moment, but then he smiled at her and she was happily lost in his eyes.

But it was an eye-opener when she saw him beside his brother the first—and last—time.

-

She woke to a loud thump and harsh voices. Sam wasn’t beside her and she hurried up, to the living room, where she flicked the light.

Sam stood face to face with someone—a gorgeous someone, a man she recognized and quite suddenly placed. Dean, her soul whispered. He’s finally come for you, Sam.

Ever since Sam had spoken of Dean, ever since she heard his voice say all that stuff about his brother, she’d known they had borrowed time.

Sam went through the motions of introducing his brother to his girlfriend, but all three of them knew it was just that—the motions.

But he’d made a commitment to Jessica, and she knew he’d honor it. That was the man he was. Whatever Dean had come for, Jessica knew Sam’d want to stay, to help his brother—he’d fallen back into Sam, Dean’s brother, so easily...

But he’d come back, and he’d stay with her, and he’d finish college, and they’d marry. They’d have kids and be together till one of them died.

And he’d eventually hate her, but he’d hate himself more.

She saw it clearly, a vision of what would be if he came back to her and left Dean behind again.

Jessica wanted to kiss him goodbye, but instead he kissed her cheek and left with Dean. She watched from the window as they drove away.

When Sam came back, she’d tell him it was over, to return to his brother, where she knew with complete certainty he belonged.

-

She never had the chance, but, ironically enough, it happened all the same.

Her death brought to pass what she would have caused anyway. Her death sent Sam and Dean careening together, a destiny they could never have escaped.

A destiny neither of them wanted to escape.

Jessica had him for awhile, but he was never her’s. But he did love her. She knew he loved her. There were parts of him she never touched, never even came close. His walls were too high, too thick. The windows were barred and the doors locked so tightly—she hadn’t the key or the strength to open them, but she’d have willingly spent her life trying—

But Dean... even in that small window she had into their world, she could see Dean open doors she hadn’t even known were there.

She wanted to call her sisters, to tell someone, anyone—it hurt her, but she knew she had to let him go.

Molly and Kate, Momma and Daddy—Greg—her family never knew how strong she was. No one did but the thing that killed her to get to Sam. It couldn’t get to Dean for some reason—it ranted about that but it didn’t say why. Jessica’s soul smiled because her body couldn’t anymore—Sam and Dean would live and the demon/monster/thing couldn’t touch them.

She died knowing her death would keep Sam safe, keep Sam with Dean, where he belonged.

Her blood dropped onto him, she burst into flames, and the last thing she saw before Greg’s face was Dean pulling Sam away.

Comments

[lark_ascends]

Beautifully done. Sad and beautiful.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[dairwendan.livejournal.com]

This is really amazing and now I LOVE Jess! And her sisters!
Thanks!

[tigriswolf]

Thank _you_ for reading!

Cute icon, by the way.

[alleysweeper.livejournal.com]

Very interesting take here. I liked.

Rock On!
Alley

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!