FILLED: A Certain Beginning - Dean, Sam/Jess - 1/1mimblexwimbleApril 27 2011, 02:37:41 UTC
Dean slows down at a light about a block away from Sam's apartment, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. He's still thinking about Sam, of course. Parts of him wish he'd said something, anything, to make Sam choose to stay with him. Brought out the big guns. Though he's not entirely sure what the big guns are where Sam's concerned. She's a hardheaded, stubborn-ass little freak, and she knows her own head. Dean used to be able to twist her around his little fingers years ago, but so much has changed between now and then. Probably only bursting into tears and falling to his knees at her feet woulda worked, and Dean's got enough dignity-
The light switches to green-
Dean steps on the gas and glances at his watch-
His watch that stopped ten minutes ago.
-
There's a light in one of the windows. It flickers coyly.
Dean's hands are slippery against the Impala's door handle as he launches himself out of the car.
-
"Sam!" he screams, kicking in the door. "Sammy!"
It too much, too soon. Dad going missing, and Dean seeing Sam for the first time in years, Sam who has changed so, so much, who has a new life, and now-
Now.
"No," Dean snarls, furiously. He takes the stairs three at a time.
No. He's not letting this happen again. Not to his family. Not to Sam.
-
Later on, he'll feel guilty.
But right now, he's so fucking glad it's Jess on the ceiling, and not Sam. Not Sam and not Sam's unborn baby.
Sam's on her bed, staring at the ceiling and her boyfriend and the fire, her mouth open in a scream.
Smoke and flames everywhere, swirling, billowing, licking.
"Jess!" Sam screams, shrill, high, hoarse. "No! Jess, no, no, no!"
Dean leaps forward, grabbing Sam and dragging her off the bed. She doesn't fight him, not really, her eyes flying over Dean's shoulder as he shoves her towards the door. Dean can see golden flames reflected in her eyes. She grabs onto the door frame, fingers digging in with impossible strength.
Dean pushes and now Sam struggles, wide-eyed and terrified. Dean can feel the heat on the back of his neck and through his jacket, scorching heat that sends him back twenty-two years. He shoves Sam hard. There's no time to feel bad. Sam stumbles backwards, caught off-guard and Dean grabs her and lifts her into his arms.
"No!" she shrieks. She kicks and scratches. "Let me go! Dean, no!"
Dean ignores her, struggles down the smoke-filled hallway. Sam's arms reach over his shoulder, and she thrashes in his grasp.
"Jess! Let me - no, Jess! Let me go, let me go, JESS! JESS! NO!"
Sammy's screams are guttural and heart wrenching.
Dean runs, coughing and choking, through the flames and the smoke.
Dean runs and doesn't stop.
-
By the time Dean gets out of the apartment and into fresh air, Sam has gone more or less limp in his arms. Her belly and chest heave against him as she breathes and sobs. "Jess," she cries. "Let me go. Jess. Please. God, please."
The lights from the ambulance and police car are blinding. Dean squints against them, trudging forward, going where the arms and voices lead.
One of Sam's arms is around Dean's neck, the other wrapped around her stomach. She coughs and chokes against Dean's throat.
"I'm sorry," Dean whispers to her, hoarsely. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry."
The light switches to green-
Dean steps on the gas and glances at his watch-
His watch that stopped ten minutes ago.
-
There's a light in one of the windows. It flickers coyly.
Dean's hands are slippery against the Impala's door handle as he launches himself out of the car.
-
"Sam!" he screams, kicking in the door. "Sammy!"
It too much, too soon. Dad going missing, and Dean seeing Sam for the first time in years, Sam who has changed so, so much, who has a new life, and now-
Now.
"No," Dean snarls, furiously. He takes the stairs three at a time.
No. He's not letting this happen again. Not to his family. Not to Sam.
-
Later on, he'll feel guilty.
But right now, he's so fucking glad it's Jess on the ceiling, and not Sam. Not Sam and not Sam's unborn baby.
Sam's on her bed, staring at the ceiling and her boyfriend and the fire, her mouth open in a scream.
Smoke and flames everywhere, swirling, billowing, licking.
"Jess!" Sam screams, shrill, high, hoarse. "No! Jess, no, no, no!"
Dean leaps forward, grabbing Sam and dragging her off the bed. She doesn't fight him, not really, her eyes flying over Dean's shoulder as he shoves her towards the door. Dean can see golden flames reflected in her eyes. She grabs onto the door frame, fingers digging in with impossible strength.
Dean pushes and now Sam struggles, wide-eyed and terrified. Dean can feel the heat on the back of his neck and through his jacket, scorching heat that sends him back twenty-two years. He shoves Sam hard. There's no time to feel bad. Sam stumbles backwards, caught off-guard and Dean grabs her and lifts her into his arms.
"No!" she shrieks. She kicks and scratches. "Let me go! Dean, no!"
Dean ignores her, struggles down the smoke-filled hallway. Sam's arms reach over his shoulder, and she thrashes in his grasp.
"Jess! Let me - no, Jess! Let me go, let me go, JESS! JESS! NO!"
Sammy's screams are guttural and heart wrenching.
Dean runs, coughing and choking, through the flames and the smoke.
Dean runs and doesn't stop.
-
By the time Dean gets out of the apartment and into fresh air, Sam has gone more or less limp in his arms. Her belly and chest heave against him as she breathes and sobs. "Jess," she cries. "Let me go. Jess. Please. God, please."
The lights from the ambulance and police car are blinding. Dean squints against them, trudging forward, going where the arms and voices lead.
One of Sam's arms is around Dean's neck, the other wrapped around her stomach. She coughs and chokes against Dean's throat.
"I'm sorry," Dean whispers to her, hoarsely. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry."
-
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an awesome AU.. Azazel most likely woudl have appeared when the baby was 6 months old!
:P
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