A Single Blade Of Grass - Section Five

[glasslogic]

After a week of no progress in any direction, things were so tense in the house that just walking into the room where Sam was pouring over books was enough to set him off. Bobby spent half his days on the computer and half his days on the phone. Dean was mostly left with doing things like forcing Sam to actually take breaks, sending things out to Jess, and hounding his own contacts. By the end of the second week, Jess had moved her tent almost half a mile into the forest and her forced good spirit was wearing thin. She confessed to Dean that she was starting to be able to hear them again on the edges of her mind, and even worse, she could hear people around them: people in the park, in the houses, even as far as town proper. It was a very, very bad sign. She had already outlived Pamela and she didn’t think she could go any further into the forest to make things any better. Her range was just growing too large. Discussing trying to move her someplace more remote was enough to make her hyperventilate at the idea of being that surrounded by people again, even for a little while.

“What if we drugged her?” Dean demanded. “We could knock her ass out, and then haul her off somewhere. There’re lots of places people don’t like, especially in winter.”

“Those tend to be abandoned for a reason,” Bobby said dryly. “And from what everyone has said and observed, her being unconscious doesn’t change a damn thing about the damage, and that’s what’s going to kill her. We need a solution now.” He looked frustrated.

“Doesn’t anyone know a witch that owes them a favor? Or maybe one we could refrain from killing in exchange for a fix?” Dean growled.

“Jessica is only important to us, Dean. Not a lot of other hunters will let a witch of that caliber go to save one woman. Not when letting the witch go could kill dozens more. I’ve sent out feelers, but no bites so far.”

“We’re out of time.”

“I know,” Bobby said gruffly. “But we’re doing everything we can. Jessica knows it, too.”

“We aren’t doing enough!”

Bobby sighed. “Go drag your brother away from the books again. Make him eat something and at least walk around the house a few times before he puts down roots. Has he talked to her today?”

“I don’t think so,” Dean voiced his other source of irritation. “I think... I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking. I would have thought he would be spending as much time on the phone as he can, but instead he’s either in a book or on the computer. Constantly. As far as I can tell, he’s not getting anywhere either.”

“Maybe you should try and get him to see some reason, then. He needs to talk to her while she can still understand what he says, before his voice gets lost in all the others that are breaking her apart.”

Dean nodded in resigned agreement and went to talk to Sam.

It was not a productive conversation.

Though, as Bobby pointed out while fixing him an ice pack about twenty minutes later, Dean’s reflexes seemed to have finally caught up to the rest of his healing, since the punch that should have broken his jaw had barely clipped his chin.

~~~~~

Two days later, without a word to anyone, Sam left. Dean, who was sleeping on the couch again, found out when the Impala was gone in the morning. He called Jess to see if Sam had told her where he might be going and her exhausted voice sharpened immediatly to concern.

“How did you lose him?” she demanded.

“He’s sneaky for a mutant freak,” Dean growled, pissed. “I have to sleep sometime, Jess. I expect him to be old enough not to pull this kind of crap; I’m going to freaking sew bells on him.”

There was a pause, and then, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean stared at the wall, irrationally even angrier.

“Don’t you do this,” he hissed. “Don’t you fucking give up on us, Jess.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, matching his anger. “I’m just... trying to, get my ducks in line, you know? I’ve written some letters. If I don’t make it, drop them in the mail. One of them is for you. You probably shouldn’t mail that one. That curt enough for you, asshole?”

“Hey, which one of us hears voices in their head? They have a word for that, you know,” he snapped back. Jessica made a sound of incoherent rage and ended the call. Dean felt strangely better about life after the exchange and went to track down his missing car.

If Sam happened to be in her vicinity when he got his hands back on his baby, that would be okay, too.

But he couldn’t find the Impala or Sam, and for three days it was as if his brother had vanished off the planet.

~~~~~

On the morning of the third day, Dean woke up to insistent hands shaking him. It seemed like a bad dream and he swatted ineffectually at them. The hands shook harder, unimpressed with his sleepy attempt to dislodge them. Between talking to Jess, trying to find anything that might save her, and looking for Sam -- it had been a very long three days for Dean. Seventy-two hours of wide eyed alertness and turmoil led to a hard sleep.

“Dean, baby, wake up.”

It sounded like Jessica and that depressed Dean to no end. Jessica was dying in the woods and Sam had run off. Only Bobby was sticking by his side, and ...that just wasn’t the same.

“Dean.”

“Go’way.”

Warm, soft lips locked onto Dean’s own and when his mouth opened instinctively in surprise, an agile and questing tongue snuck in. A very... talented tongue. He knew this kiss.

Dean’s green eyes flew open in shock to meet Jessica’s blue ones from inches away. She grinned. It was an exhausted smile, but a real one. He could see it dancing in her eyes and paused only a heartbeat before wrapping his arms around her and dragging her into the sheets beneath him. She laughed. Her hair was damp and smelled like shampoo and it occurred to Dean belatedly that all she was wearing was a towel. He kissed her face while she tried to push him away and talk, but he only used the opportunity to return her wake-up call with his own skill set. After that, from the way she arched against him and ran her hands down his back, it seemed like she had things she wanted to do more than talk.

“You’re all better?” Dean demanded incredulously moments later, brain and body finally in synch.

“Dean,” she growled, “the time to talk about that was five minutes ago. We’ve moved on.” Jessica pushed against him meaningfully, towel lost in the sheets during the storm of reunion. He obligingly slid a thigh between her legs for her to move against, still stunned by the enormity of having her alive and in bed with him. She didn't look impressed by that either.

“So ...no voices anymore? No headache?”

“No,” she said impatiently. “I’m fine. The only thing likely to kill me right now is sexual frustration. Which is your fault,” she added pointedly. “I only came in to give you the good news. What kind of a tease are you?”

The idea of being called a tease was so outrageous, Dean was momentarily stunned speechless. He had never been a tease in his life. Jessica raised one challenging eyebrow at him. “It’s been a month, Dean. Are you waiting for Christmas?”

It was too tempting to resist. “Christmas only comes once a year,” he told her with mock seriousness.

Her body went still under him. “Oh, my God. I think the official code of womanhood forbids me to have sex with any man who uses that line. I’m really sorry,” Jess said earnestly, starting to wiggle out from under him.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the comforter up over them both. “I’m sure I can change your mind,” he muttered, before using his mouth to chart a course down her body, making sure to pay careful attention to all of his favorite spots. It was the last thing either of them said for a while.

~~~~~

“So,” Jessica began, sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table, sipping coffee with an air of great contentment. “Where the hell is Sam?”

“Beat’s me,” Dean said in disgust. “Haven’t heard from him since he left. I’m more interested in what happened with you. Sam we can hunt down later.

Jessica shrugged. “I’m... really not sure. Yesterday it was getting bad. Really bad. I honestly didn’t think I would see sunrise. Or want to. I took a handful of those painkillers you sent me, and... I guess I passed out, because what happened next doesn’t really make sense. I dreamed I was still sitting in the tent but there was a woman with me. She just opened the flap and walked in. I couldn’t move or talk.” She paused and finished her coffee, then held the mug out hopefully to Bobby who obligingly filled it back up, ignoring Dean's similar gesture.

“Where was I?”

“A strange woman in your tent,” Dean growled.

“Right. So she just touches my forehead, waves these feathers in front of me and starts chanting. I can see all this light being drawn out of me into the feathers. Different colors of light, in gem tones. It was really pretty, and I felt really... high. Then when there wasn’t any more light, she lit the feathers with a match. They flared up and turned to ash, and then she walked out. That’s it. That’s all that happened.”

“And there was no sign of her when you woke up?” Dean asked. Bobby, having heard the story earlier, was quiet.

“No sign of her,” Jessica hedged. “But, uh, there was ash smeared on my face and arms. That’s why I took a shower. Bobby thought I should wash it off immediately. I was also pretty gross.”

Dean looked at Bobby who just nodded. “I checked out the tent. There’s ash, but no sign anyone was there. She seems fine.”

“Fantastic! So we go out of our skulls --one of us literally--,” Jess rolled her eyes, “to try and make you better, and some strange woman just randomly shows up one night, burns some feathers and you’re magically cured?”

Jess nodded. “Magically,” she repeated in a serious tone.

Dean glared.

“Glad to see you kids are picking up right where you left off, and I think we all know who has to be behind this.”

“Sam,” Dean said grimly. “Where the hell is he?”

“That’s what I asked,” Jessica said primly, draining her third cup of coffee.

~~~~~

The answer to that became apparent when two hours later the door flew open and Sam rushed in, panicked and out of breath.

“Where is she, is she okay?” he demanded.

“Nice to see you, too,” Dean drawled. “Did you bring back my car?”

Sam gave him a look of impatient frustration, but then Jessica ran into the room and leaped on him and anything else had to wait.

~~~~~

“So... you were where again, exactly?”

“Oklahoma City,” Sam shrugged, or as much of a shrug as he could manage with Jessica draped over his side with her legs across his lap. “I remembered some people I’d heard mentioned once, saw a reference online, and then I had that vision... I had a hunch and it played out.”

Dean and Bobby traded uneasy looks.

“Played out, huh,” Bobby repeated. “Would it have killed you to have filled anyone else in? Or called? Or taken the damn cell phone I got you?”

Sam looked a little shamefaced. “Sorry, I think I was a little crazy there for a while. I just... saw a chance and leaped at it.”

“What did it cost?” Dean asked quietly, well aware there was nothing for free in the world, and no real miracles out there.

Sam gave him a defiant look. “Nothing I couldn’t afford to lose.”

“That’s not an answer, Sam.”

“What did it cost?” Jessica asked, looking at him with a frown.

Sam stared at her face for a long moment, then smiled and brushed hair from her eyes. “Really, nothing. They wanted a favor, just to look at something for them. It’s not a big deal, they just needed someone with a psychic gift like mine to look at something and that’s all.”

“Who are these people again?” Bobby asked.

“We’re hunters, Bobby. I love you, man, but these people... they saved Jessica’s life. I’m not going to tell you about them so they can go on some super-secret hunter hit list. Who they are doesn’t matter. It’s over. Let it go.”

Dean waited until Sam took Jessica with him to get his stuff out of the Impala then met Bobby’s eyes with a serious look. “He’s lying.”

“I know,” Bobby said heavily.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean swore.

“What are you going to do about it?” Bobby asked.

Dean threw his hands up. “What can I do about it? He’s obviously not gonna budge. And he did save her... just keep my eyes open I guess. Try and save the day when whatever stupid thing he pulled comes back to bite us all on the ass.”

“You watch your back, Dean. Nothing good comes of lying to your partners. He’s already in over his head, and he doesn’t even know he’s standing in the water yet.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed grimly. “I know.”


Chapter Eleven

They stayed at Bobby’s for the next few months while Jessica healed. She was ninety percent better after whatever had happened in the tent that night, but that last ten percent was slow going. She couldn't tolerate loud noises and was prone to slurring words and passing out with little warning when she was tired. It wasn’t a quick convalescence and Jessica wasn't the most laid-back patient. Bobby chided her for thinking that she could just walk away from something like that without a mark. She was healing, it just took time.

Things were... sorta back to normal. Dean trained with Jess and helped Bobby fix up some of his project cars as the weather slowly warmed. Sam, who had resumed holing up in the library, was easier to coax outdoors than he had been before the latest misadventures. He was even joining them for wrestling matches with questionable rules out of sightline of the house and for trips into town. He had also picked up the habit of long solitary walks at night,which didn’t thrill Dean, but he figured Sam was working through a lot of things about his future and the changes in his life. Dean was no longer sure what books Sam was studying, or if he was really studying anything at all. His brother closed the door now when he was in the library, and everything was always stacked neatly whenever Dean barged in.

~~~~~

Around the middle of March, Sam said he needed to take a trip back to Stanford and clear up some business left unfinished.

“What business?” Jessica asked.

Sam shrugged, folding clothes neatly into his duffle bag. “Not a big deal. Just some things with the law school. I’ve been trying to do it on the phone, but we keep getting our wires crossed and there’s some lingering financial crap attached. You don’t want to go, do you?”

Jessica snorted. “Back to Palo Alto? Not a chance. My family is still there.”

“Speaking of which,” Dean said walking in. “Did you ever hear back from them?”

“They got my letter." She shrugged. "They aren’t happy. I didn’t know you could be that hysterical in text. I would feel worse but my father tried to point out that legally I’m still under their guardianship until I prove my mental fitness or some crap like that. I don’t remember what happened when I got... sick, so I figure I’ll just keep my distance until their need to control my every breath subsides a little.”

Dean snorted his opinion of that. “How did they reach you?”

Jess shrugged. “Bobby worked something out. I give him things to send, he gives me mail.”

“I hear you say you were going somewhere, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Stanford. Probably about a week or so. Nothing with hunting or anything, just college stuff to clear up.”

“You want company?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I think my risking getting spotted is bad enough. But I know who I have to meet with and they aren’t in the same social circle as Jess’s dad. I can get in, do what I need to do, and get out. You guys stay here and remind Bobby why he didn’t have kids.”

~~~~~

A few days after Sam departed in one of Bobby’s projects, Jessica was amusing herself going through the Impala’s trunk. It hadn’t been cleaned in ages and there were all sorts of fine debris that needed to be swept and vacuumed out.

“What’s this?” She fished a thin leather journal out from where it was wedged between a box of silver shot and the trunk lining. Flipping through it she saw letters in a neat print handwriting, usually in purple but sometimes blue or black, and sketchings of angels everywhere. It only took her a second to realize that it definitely wasn’t Dean’s.

For starters, she could read the handwriting.

“Dean?”

Dean looked up from where he was trying to fasten on a hose under the hood and squinted.

“That’s...” he walked over and took the book from her almost reverently, rubbing his hands off on his pants before touching the soft leather. “It’s Jordan’s journal. I stole it from her and read it once while we were traveling together since she wouldn’t talk to me about what was going on. It’s just a collection of thoughts and things she saw. I gave it back to her but it must have fallen out of her backpack.” A picture fell out into his hand and he stared at it with Jess looking on at his side. Jessica, who had seen Jordan’s bedroom with all its pictures and drawings, easily recognized it as a very young Jordan Black. She was wearing an overstuffed snowsuit and making an angel in the powdery white. Or trying to, there seemed to be quite a lot of interference from a dog with a very long tongue.

“This needs to go to her father,” Dean said finally. “The journal and the picture.”

“You want to mail it to him?”

“Actually... do you mind if I go in person?” he asked, watching her face for hesitation. “I just feel like I owe it to her in some way to maybe just check in with him sometimes.

Jessica just smiled wryly. “And you’re tired of being cooped up and want to hit the road. I take it I’m not invited? You and Sam keep leaving me here and I’m going to have no choice but to sleep with Bobby for company, you know.”

“Just as long as you don’t expect me to,” Dean retorted with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

~~~~~

Frank Black’s kitchen looked exactly like Dean remembered. He hadn’t expected the wallpaper or furnishings to have changed, of course, but even the mail and paper stacked neatly on the desk and the dishes in the drying rack looked as they had when Dean had last seen them months ago. It gave a sort of timeless feeling to the house, and looking into Frank Black’s weary and penetrating eyes, Dean didn’t think that was a good thing.

Frank flipped slowly through the journal in silence. Three more photos fell out while he examined it. Dean didn’t recognize the people in two of them, but it was obvious from his amused expression that Frank did. It was the first hint of any kind of light emotion Dean had sensed from the man and it slipped quickly away.

“Have you... gotten anything else from Jordan?” Dean asked after Frank closed the journal and laid it on the table.

“No. Have you?”

Dean shook his head. “That was just underneath some stuff in the trunk. I felt like you should have it.”

“And felt like you should drive halfway across the country to bring it to me?” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“It seemed... right.”

“Something is troubling you.”

“It’s not your problem,” Dean shrugged.

“When you left here, you were with your brother and his fiancé. Now you’re alone.”

“They haven’t ditched me, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dean retorted, stung.

Frank spread his hands. “I’m not thinking anything, just an observation.”

“There’s been some... problems,” Dean relented after a moment. He didn’t feel anything from Frank but neutrality and maybe what Dean needed most was someone to talk to that wasn’t involved because he spent the next two hours spilling the entire story out, with a few edits about who exactly was sleeping with whom. He talked about Sam and hunting, and Jess with the curse and her almost dying. His roadtrip with his brother. Jessica’s rescue and miraculous recovery. His utter certainty that Sam was lying, or at least that there was more to the story than he had confessed to.

“It just screws everything up,” Dean finished. “I have to be able to trust him at my back. Right now, I’m not even sure I trust him at my front.”

“He wouldn’t say anything about this mysterious group he happened to remember just in time to save her life?” Frank asked, fingers steepled on the table in front on him.

“No,” Dean said in disgust. “He hasn’t even been hunting since he was seventeen! And then he expects me to believe he just pulled something like this out of his ass? I’m half afraid he whistled up a demon and sold part of his soul to it.”

There was a stillness to Frank’s face that made the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. “What?” he asked sharply.

Frank exhaled slowly. “Not a demon but... his mysterious group. I was just thinking during your story how surprised I was that neither of you had ever been approached by Millennium.”

“No,” Dean said immediately. “There is no way. You warned us, Bobby warned us. Hell, Bobby apparently said he would throw us out and never let us darken his doorstep again if we even had a hint of involvement with Millennium. Sam wouldn’t have done that, not on his own without at least fucking mentioning it to me.”

“You and Sam, maybe especially Sam, because Millennium appeals best to those who are easily snared by their intellect, are exactly the sort of people the Group finds most attractive. And they are very, very good at sniffing you out.”

Dean stared at him. “Are you saying I’m stupid?”

“No,” Frank gave a slight smile. “I’m saying that you and Sam approach the world in different ways, whatever the final outcome might be. You want to cut right to the heart of the matter. My impression of your brother is he would rather explore the possibilities: research, knowledge, secret histories.”

“Yeah,” Dean snorted. “That’s Sam all over.”

Frank nodded. “There’s also the Ourborous you said he saw in his dream.”

“He has freaky visions, they don’t always mean anything,” Dean shrugged.

“The Ourborous is the logo that Millennium uses.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Dean swore and slammed a fist on the table. “He wouldn’t have.”

“She was dying, Dean. He might not have felt he had time to debate about it.”

Dean stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “I have to go. Thanks for your time.”

“Thank you for bringing my daughter’s journal. May I ask how you are coping with your own gifts?”

“Still looking for the receipt,” Dean said darkly. “But I’m hanging in there. Hoping something about them makes sense someday.”

“I don’t think they are supposed to make sense. That isn’t their purpose.”

Dean paused with his hand on the doorknob. “You know, you and Jordan -- that apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, there.”

“We are all the products of our parentage. However wild we grow in life, we start from that singular beginning. Be safe.”

“It isn’t my safety you need to worry about.” Dean didn’t know where his brother was, but he knew exactly how to find out.

~~~~~

The cemetery hadn’t been easy to reach. It was mostly a ruin and back deep in the woods.

It was a miracle the cell towers had been able to find the phone.

Dean tramped through deep grass, starlight and moonlight filtering gently down through budding trees and giving the entire scene a sense of peace which was completely lost on Dean. Every step made him angrier. Northern Michigan wasn’t California. Sam hadn’t even sorta lied about things this time and he wasn’t going to be able to squirm out of it.

Once he saw gravestones, Dean paced around the back of the church so he could approach from the other side. He slowed his steps to quiet his movements. He had already known what he would find, but it still made his heart ache to see the proof.

Sam was sitting alone on the cracked and crumbling steps to the bolted church doors in the old cemetery. He stared intently down the path, head moving slightly like he was looking for something. Occasionally he would glance down at his hand, then back up to the empty avenue. Dean got within five feet of him with Sam none the wiser before he spoke.

“You son-of-a-bitch.”

Sam started and fell into a defensive crouch, then realized who it was and straightened slowly.

“Dean? What the hell are you doing here?”

“What the hell am I doing here? Have you looked around Sam?! This doesn’t look like Stanford to me,” Dean spat.

“How did you find me?” Sam demanded.

“You thought Jessica’s father could track you by phone but didn’t think I could? That’s a low blow, Sam. Really low. Nice to know what you think of my skills.”

Sam scowled. “I wasn’t thinking of your skills, I was thinking you wouldn’t have any reason to! What the hell are you doing here?” he repeated his original question with more heat.

“How could you do that without even telling me? Without telling her! Did you fucking sell out to Millennium, Sam?” he was in Sam’s face and had him by the collar before he could think better of it. “Answer me, goddamn it!”

But Sam didn’t need to answer, it was all over his face. Shame, guilt, anger. He twisted free of Dean's grip and fell onto the unforgiving stone.

“You did.” Dean's voice was flat and nearly toneless. “Damn you, Sam. Why the hell didn’t you talk to me?”

Sam got back to his feet. “She was going to die, Dean! What were you going to say? No?”

“You know I wouldn’t have! I was just as desperate as you! But we should have talked about it. You know what they say about sleeping with all of the people your partners sleep with? I’ve got to tell you, Sam, our bed’s starting to get a little crowded. This wasn’t a decision you should have made alone!”

Sam looked down and drew a deep breath. “I thought if it was just me, then... they couldn’t hold anything over you and Jess. If you didn’t know about it, then I was the only one they could reach.”

“You’re an asshole. And a moron,” Dean said in disgust. “Not hold anything over us? What about you, jackass?”

“I didn’t care about me,” Sam yelled. “I didn’t want her to die, and I didn’t want all of us to have to pay. So fuck you.”

“Don't see the wedge this is already driving between us?” Dean asked quietly once the echoes of Sam’s shout had died in the quiet forest. “One favor, tit for tat, and there’s already lies and secrets pulling us apart. If you had told us in the first place, we all could have discussed the best thing to do to handle this. Together. Remember that, Sam?”

Sam didn’t say anything, just hugged himself and glared.

“What are you even doing here?” Dean asked, glancing out over the ancient tombstones. “I thought the ghosts only came out to play on Christmas Eve?”

“Fetches, not ghosts, and that’s Christmas. They gather at other times too, in some places.”

“What’s this lucky holiday?”

Sam hesitated. “Ostara, the Vernal Equinox. It’s usually associated with rebirth.”

“And you’re watching for... what?”

Sam pulled a Polaroid from his pocket. “This guy.”

“Why?” Dean asked simply, not even bothering to try and look.

“I don’t know.”

“And is this all they want for Jessica’s life?”

Sam swallowed. “I don’t know that either.”

“Jesus, Sam.”

“Are you going to tell Jess?”

“You’re damn right I’m going to tell Jess,” Dean snapped. “You should have done it in the first place, but unlike some people, I actually remember what I promised. This is a huge thing, Sam, and it affects all of us, not just your sorry ass.”

Sam nodded, then lowered his voice. “Are you going to tell Bobby?”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I should, but no. We can discuss that whenever you drag yourself back. All three of us.”

Dean gave one last disgusted look around and then headed for the gate, trying to block out the knowledge that in Sam’s eyes, he was walking up an avenue of the dead.

“You’re just going to leave?” Sam called out behind him. There was a plaintive, almost lost note in Sam’s voice that made Dean hesitate, on the verge of turning back. He could stay with Sam until dawn when the restless spirits returned to sleep. Keep him company and just... be with him. The entire situation reminded him of Sam as a child sitting in the snow at Pastor Jim’s church on Christmas Eve. There had been broken steps and ancient tombstones there too, and a congregation of the dead that only his brother could see.

But Sam wasn’t a kid any more. Neither of them were, and Dean forced himself to keep walking.

“Like you said, Sam. This isn’t my business. When should I tell Jess you’ll be back?”

“A couple of days,” Sam finally answered from behind him. “I have to report in person and then I’ll head back.”

“In person, huh -- a phone call won’t cut it? They that eager to get their hands on you again?”

“Dean...”

“Forget it. I’ll let her know.”

It was a very long, cold and lonely drive back to South Dakota.


Epilogue

When Sam pulled into the yard at Bobby’s a week later, it was dusk. Sunset was a scarlet stain on the Western skyline and deep shadows pooled across the yard in the violets and blues of evening.

He had called from a gas station about an hour away. The hesitant and brief conversation had, on its surface, just been about letting them know he was close. But underneath the words, Dean and Jessica were fairly certain what he had really been asking was if he was welcome.

Jess was waiting in the driveway when Sam pulled up in the battered clunker he had borrowed. He climbed out, and just stood there somewhat awkwardly until she closed the distance and slid her arms around him, hugging tight. Over her shoulder, Sam could see Dean leaning against the house, arms crossed and expression remote.

Sam closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. “I couldn’t let you die,” he breathed, and felt her nod against him. “How’s Dean?”

Jess let go and stepped back so she could see his face. “Not happy. Do you blame him?”

“I did what I thought I had to do to save your life.” Sam didn’t sound defensive about it, just tired.

She sighed. “I know, Sam.”

“But you aren’t happy, either.”

“I’m happy to be alive,” Jess said honestly. “But I’m worried about your new friends, you know? I’m worried about you.”

“They aren’t my friends; they’re just some people I did a job for. Straight trade.”

“Watching spirits in a graveyard?” Jess raised a troubled brow.

“All I did was sit there so I could tell them if I saw one in particular. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“That you know of,” Dean said coolly. Jessica and Sam had been so focused on their conversation, both of them had missed Dean’s approach and jumped at his words. “Did you think that maybe it was a test, dumbass? Maybe they only thought you had gifts,” he spat the word, “before. Now they know for sure.”

“Millennium isn’t a bunch of freaks, Dean!” Sam argued. “They’re scholars and scientists and historians, they know what’s out there and they just want to help people. Like we do. Mostly they work as a consulting group for crimes that don’t even involve any of our type of stuff.”

Dean snorted. “Sounds like you drank all your Kool-aid, Sammy. Help people do what, exactly? Maybe this little indoctrination session you attended was the entire point of all of this. You certainly seem to have a changed opinion of your new best buds.”

“I didn’t say I trusted them, Dean! Just that ...maybe they aren’t the bogeymen people say they are. They saved, Jess.”

“And I appreciate that, Sam. I really do. But you know what? I trust people. I trust that Frank Black knows more about this stuff than we do, and he advised us to stay away. And what about Bobby, Sam? You think Bobby is blowing smoke up our ass about the Millennium group? The man practically raised us,” Dean hissed, “and he said we’ll be strangers to him if he even thinks we have any involvement with them. That’s enough for me right there. It should be enough for you!”

“She would have died!”

“You should have talked to us before you jumped off the fucking bridge!” Dean yelled back

“Shut-up! Both of you,” Jessica snapped. “It’s done with now. I’m alive, Sam seems okay, let’s just... move on. This doesn’t change anything.”

Sam and Dean continued to glare at each other until Jessica growled and Sam finally dropped his gaze.

“What, uh, did you tell Bobby?” he finally asked in a more subdued tone.

“That Stanford was taking longer than you expected and you’d be back when you showed up. Which means that now I’ve lied to him about the Millennium crap too. Thanks, Sam. Still think your decisions don’t affect us?”

Jess raked a hand through her wind-blown hair. “That’s enough. Really. Sam’s business with them is done, so let’s just try and leave that door shut. Sam won’t play anymore clandestine footsie with possibly evil organizations, I’ll try not to contract any more fatal curses, and Dean will mention anyone else he sees getting angelic escorts. Deal?”

Dean shrugged noncommittally, but Sam nodded under Jess’s heated glare.

“Fantastic. I told Bobby dinner would be ready when he got home. You guys can chop vegetables while I get the rest of the stuff going.” She didn’t wait for a response, just spun on one foot and stormed into the house leaving Sam and Dean alone in the yard.

“Are we okay?” Sam asked his brother in a low voice.

Dean stared at him for a moment; jaw clenched, then sighed and relaxed a little. “I need you not to lie to me, Sam. Or do things behind my back. This thing we’ve got... we aren’t going to make it without trust. Do you understand that? I know you were a little out of your head over Jessica, but that excuse only gets you so far.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I just...” his voice trailed off lamely.

Dean muttered something, then held his arms out and Sam walked into them.

“Never again, Sam,” Dean said fiercely. “We do this shit together.”

Sam nodded against Dean’s shoulder, grateful for the forgiveness of the embrace. Tucked into the back pocket of his jeans a business card with an Ouroboros rested like a weight against his heart.

END

Masterpost

 

All feedback is love!
(or at least part of growing pains...)

Comments

[angeblond.livejournal.com]

I HATE YOUUUUUU !
That epilogue just meant a year of longing for the next part!!!!!

*glare some more*

But if it was some vision, Sam may have no other choice that to go ask their help. He just need to tell all the truth and soon.

Fabulous, with a fucking mean cliff in the end. (hate you for it, arggghhhhhh)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

But year's go by so fast... *grins*

Yeah, but he had the vision days before he left. Even if he didn't want to let Bobby in on it, he should have mentioned it to Dean or Jess.

Glad you enjoyed the piece! Hey, at least I stuck them back together for the end. Originally it stopped just above the epilogue *loftily*

Thanks for commenting!

[canter76.livejournal.com]

Excellent.

But that ending! Why do you do this to me?!

I want moaaaaar!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

*pats in commiseration*

Glad you liked the fic though! *grins*

[blackcat333-99.livejournal.com]

Aaaahhhhh!!!! I can *see* the black crows circing over Sam's head -- that boy has a certain track record of trusting in the less reliable kind of smarts and trying to handle things by himself instead of listening to his gut. Good thing he's not alone -- and I wonder about the presence of feathers being burned as a part of Jessica's cure. Dean sure has a connection to feathers he doesn't understand yet himself, too. I wonder if everything's connected, sooner or later.

Great job -- now I'm just dying for the next part!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Me too *brightly* Want to write it? *grins*

Yeah, based on canon, I would have to see Sam as completely able to pursue things he really shouldn't and not be at all up front about it. I'm glad you enjoyed the fic!

[desertpoet]

I enjoyed this so much. I liked seeing all three of them trying to work out ho there relationship is going to work and Bobby being suspicious but also understanding in his own way.

The angels are still so intriguing. i still want to know more about them.

It is so like Sam to go off by himself to save Jess but it really worries me that he apparently like the Millennium group is a good thing. he's always getting seduced by knowledge.

I can't wait for more! There will be more right? right?

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you liked the fic! After nearly missing two deadlines in one months and another fic being 6 months behind... I don't make promises anymore *wryly* Currently I plan at least one more installation in this series, but that's all I've got on that right now.

[desertpoet]

I totally understand. If you do end up writing though I'll be thrilled to read it. Although, I'm pretty sure I'll read anything you write :)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Awww *hugs* Thank you! Like I said, it's planned, so unless I quit writing it should happen eventually, just don't know when. *grins*

[alaine1910.livejournal.com]

Wow great story (or continuation of a great story) - I had to go back and re-read last years story then continued on to this one (what a way to spend a Saturday) very well done, looking forward to next year now.

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed it! I need to read them like that *grins* it will be interesting to see how the style shifted. Thanks for commenting!

AWESOMENESS!!!!!!

[imonlyobsessed.livejournal.com]

But, but but.... more? It's not done, I need MOAR.....
I love that what your doing with this and, really, I kinda can't wait for the rest.
Also, is there any chance you're going to cross-post this to Archive so I can have this as PDF too? Please?

Re: AWESOMENESS!!!!!!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure this is the type of story that gets done *wryly* There can always be another episode -- unless Dean drives the Imapala off a cliff *looks innocent* But even then... it is Supernatural and Millennium, death is hardly an end to the story. I will get this up on AO3 and probably Dreamwidth at some point, and the reason there isn't a pdf already is that I need to run through this an edit it some. I will try and do that this weekend. What archive did you have in mind? I'm glad you enjoyed the fic!

Re: AWESOMENESS!!!!!!

[imonlyobsessed.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure this is the type of story that gets done. *ignores any attempt at sarcasm* That means you keep writing them? I'm ok with that. :D I think I got last year's PDF from Archive of Our Own, but I'll download it from anywhere. I was just hoping to have both files be the same format cuz I'm weirdly OCD like that.

[jenshih-blue.livejournal.com]

Just finished this and I have to say this universe has me hooked without question. Amazing storytelling!

I do hope there is a third story in progress because I can't wait to see more. Well, I can wait, but I simply don't want to. LOL

Thank you for sharing this amazing work. *hugs galore*

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed it! I keep meaning to iron the first section out some more, but that's so far down the list of things of things I need to work on... There is a third story in consideration, but if it happens this year it won't be until the fall *wryly* No promises. You are very welcome -- thanks for commenting!

[brothersnlovers.livejournal.com]

so well written, such great characterisation, it's like watching SPN on my own internal head screen. More, please ;)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Hopefully one day! <3 ...though I don't think the people who like this verse would enjoy the original direction *grins*

[frostfalcon.livejournal.com]

Just found this tonight and it is really quite interesting... I'm glad you took the time to write and share it!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Uh oh, when I call something "interesting" it's not always a compliment *grins* I hope you enjoyed the read, and (though probably noticed) this fic is actually a sequel to Midnight Of the Century.

[frostfalcon.livejournal.com]

I read that one first and strait on to this one... and it was interesting good not interesting OMG Kill it Kill It! I liked it quite a bit, I really like the threesome dynamic and I get the feeling that Jess would be able to hold her own with the boys...

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed them! That's what I was hoping for with Jess, her inclusion was a bit of a last minute decision on the first fic, and it just kind of rolled along from there. I love your icon!

[frostfalcon.livejournal.com]

Thanks... gotta luv Dr. Mrs. the Monarch aka Dr. Girlfriend...