She’s seen him drink, sure - a beer here and there, cocktails when he’s taken her out to dinner. But tonight he’s been carrying around the bottle of Jack Daniels Owen brought over, drinking steadily and keeping the whole thing to himself.
She should have listened when he said he didn’t want a birthday party.
But it’s so out of character. Sam is quiet, reserved, amazed when people like him. Jess assumed he was against the party because he didn’t think anyone would come, and she knew (and she was correct) that they would. She assumed he’d be happy to come home and find the apartment full of people.
Dani grabs her by the refrigerator. “I think Sam’s getting sick. He’s been in the bathroom for like twenty minutes.”
“Shit. Yeah?”
“Want me to get everyone out of here?”
Jess nods, grateful, and Dani starts shepherding people towards the door.
**
She finds Sam on his knees, head pillowed on his arms on the toilet seat. She sinks down beside him and rests a hand on his back. “Hey, baby.”
He heaves in response and fumbles for the flush without lifting his head. She rubs small circles between his shoulder blades and waits.
“Sorry…”
“Shh. No.” It’s their first birthday together. They’ve only been dating for three months. It’s okay that they messed it up.
He sits back, finally, his face soaked in sweat and tears. “Jess.”
“Can I take you to bed?”
“Bad idea.” He does still look a little green.
She ducks into the bedroom and grabs the pillows and comforter instead, and makes them a nest on the bath mat. He shivers in her arms.
“You gonna be sick again?”
“Nn.”
“Tell me, okay?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Phone.”
“What?”
“My phone?”
“Why do you need a phone, Sam?”
“Please.”
He sounds so desperate, she doesn’t have the heart to say no.
**
She sits propped against the wall with Sam tucked under her arm and listens to the muted warble of the phone ringing against his ear. After a minute a rumbly male voice answers.
And Sam breaks down.
He’s sobbing too hard to speak, too hard to breathe, to hard to make any noise at all. He’s gasping. The voice on the line sounds increasingly alarmed, and then Sam dives for the toilet bowl and gags and retches and the phone drops to the floor, forgotten.
“Sam? Sammy!” comes the tinny voice on the other end.
Jess picks it up. “Um, hello?”
A pause. “Who the hell is this?”
“Who the hell is this?” She counters.
“Is Sammy okay?”
He hates ‘Sammy.’ Who is this guy? “He’s drunk.”
An even longer pause. “Ah.”
“Dean,” Sam reaches behind him for the phone without lifting his head from the toilet.
“Dean,” Jess repeats. “Your name is Dean?”
“I’m his brother.”
“What? No. Sam doesn’t have a brother.”
There’s no humor in the responding laugh. “I fucking promise you he does. Let me talk to him.”
She hesitates. “I’ll put you on speaker.”
“Excuse you?”
“He’s sick. If I give him the phone he’ll probably drop it in the toilet.”
“What did you let him drink?”
“I’m not his mother!” Immediately she winces. Sam’s mother is dead. At least, that’s what he’s told her. Who knows what’s true about Sam’s family at this point.
She puts the phone on speaker. “You’re on.”
“Sam.” Dean says, and his whole tone is different. “Sammy?”
“Dean.”
“What’d you do, buddy?”
“Jack.”
“Never could hold your whiskey.”
“You didn’t call.”
“What?”
“My birthday, Dean.”
“Shit. Sam.”
“You missed it.”
Jess glances at the clock. It’s 12:20. Sam’s birthday is officially over.
RE: Cracks (2/2)familybiznessMay 2 2016, 16:17:09 UTC
**
She gets him to bed about half an hour later and he promptly passes out.
She takes his phone and hits redial.
**
“Sammy?”
“No. Me again.”
“Okay, and you’re…?”
“Jess. His girlfriend.”
A low whistle. “Girlfriend, huh.”
She knows Sam’s never had a serious girlfriend before - at least, she thinks she knows that. It’s always seemed sort of unbelievable. He’s gorgeous, smart, loving. Not the kind of guy who stays single very long.
“He never mentioned a brother.”
“Well, yeah. That sounds about right.”
Sam stirs in his sleep and she runs a hand up and down his spine. “He got drunk tonight because you didn’t call.”
“Figured he wouldn’t want me to.”
“What the hell happened between you two?”
Dean hesitates. “Ask your boyfriend.”
“Dean.”
“Tell him I didn’t forget. Okay? And Dad didn’t forget. And…if he wants to see me, I’ll be in New Mexico next week. Tell him.”
She says I promise. She hangs up the phone and curls up behind Sam, presses her lips to the back of his neck and wonders what else he’s hiding.
RE: Cracks (2/2)madebyme_xMay 3 2016, 15:57:29 UTC
Wonderful! I really enjoyed the awkward conversations between Jess and Dean, and how you captured that mysterious quality about Sam that Jess is only just learning.
I love your writing style. They're all just so clearly defined, in so few words. Even Dani, who I know for all of two sentences and already love because she knows when to step in and get everyone the hell out of there.
Love Dean and Jess's conversations (especially the "Excuse you?"), and Sam's desperation and sobbing so hard he can't make a sound. Oh, kiddo...
She’s seen him drink, sure - a beer here and there, cocktails when he’s taken her out to dinner. But tonight he’s been carrying around the bottle of Jack Daniels Owen brought over, drinking steadily and keeping the whole thing to himself.
She should have listened when he said he didn’t want a birthday party.
But it’s so out of character. Sam is quiet, reserved, amazed when people like him. Jess assumed he was against the party because he didn’t think anyone would come, and she knew (and she was correct) that they would. She assumed he’d be happy to come home and find the apartment full of people.
Dani grabs her by the refrigerator. “I think Sam’s getting sick. He’s been in the bathroom for like twenty minutes.”
“Shit. Yeah?”
“Want me to get everyone out of here?”
Jess nods, grateful, and Dani starts shepherding people towards the door.
**
She finds Sam on his knees, head pillowed on his arms on the toilet seat. She sinks down beside him and rests a hand on his back. “Hey, baby.”
He heaves in response and fumbles for the flush without lifting his head. She rubs small circles between his shoulder blades and waits.
“Sorry…”
“Shh. No.” It’s their first birthday together. They’ve only been dating for three months. It’s okay that they messed it up.
He sits back, finally, his face soaked in sweat and tears. “Jess.”
“Can I take you to bed?”
“Bad idea.” He does still look a little green.
She ducks into the bedroom and grabs the pillows and comforter instead, and makes them a nest on the bath mat. He shivers in her arms.
“You gonna be sick again?”
“Nn.”
“Tell me, okay?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Phone.”
“What?”
“My phone?”
“Why do you need a phone, Sam?”
“Please.”
He sounds so desperate, she doesn’t have the heart to say no.
**
She sits propped against the wall with Sam tucked under her arm and listens to the muted warble of the phone ringing against his ear. After a minute a rumbly male voice answers.
And Sam breaks down.
He’s sobbing too hard to speak, too hard to breathe, to hard to make any noise at all. He’s gasping. The voice on the line sounds increasingly alarmed, and then Sam dives for the toilet bowl and gags and retches and the phone drops to the floor, forgotten.
“Sam? Sammy!” comes the tinny voice on the other end.
Jess picks it up. “Um, hello?”
A pause. “Who the hell is this?”
“Who the hell is this?” She counters.
“Is Sammy okay?”
He hates ‘Sammy.’ Who is this guy? “He’s drunk.”
An even longer pause. “Ah.”
“Dean,” Sam reaches behind him for the phone without lifting his head from the toilet.
“Dean,” Jess repeats. “Your name is Dean?”
“I’m his brother.”
“What? No. Sam doesn’t have a brother.”
There’s no humor in the responding laugh. “I fucking promise you he does. Let me talk to him.”
She hesitates. “I’ll put you on speaker.”
“Excuse you?”
“He’s sick. If I give him the phone he’ll probably drop it in the toilet.”
“What did you let him drink?”
“I’m not his mother!” Immediately she winces. Sam’s mother is dead. At least, that’s what he’s told her. Who knows what’s true about Sam’s family at this point.
She puts the phone on speaker. “You’re on.”
“Sam.” Dean says, and his whole tone is different. “Sammy?”
“Dean.”
“What’d you do, buddy?”
“Jack.”
“Never could hold your whiskey.”
“You didn’t call.”
“What?”
“My birthday, Dean.”
“Shit. Sam.”
“You missed it.”
Jess glances at the clock. It’s 12:20. Sam’s birthday is officially over.
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She gets him to bed about half an hour later and he promptly passes out.
She takes his phone and hits redial.
**
“Sammy?”
“No. Me again.”
“Okay, and you’re…?”
“Jess. His girlfriend.”
A low whistle. “Girlfriend, huh.”
She knows Sam’s never had a serious girlfriend before - at least, she thinks she knows that. It’s always seemed sort of unbelievable. He’s gorgeous, smart, loving. Not the kind of guy who stays single very long.
“He never mentioned a brother.”
“Well, yeah. That sounds about right.”
Sam stirs in his sleep and she runs a hand up and down his spine. “He got drunk tonight because you didn’t call.”
“Figured he wouldn’t want me to.”
“What the hell happened between you two?”
Dean hesitates. “Ask your boyfriend.”
“Dean.”
“Tell him I didn’t forget. Okay? And Dad didn’t forget. And…if he wants to see me, I’ll be in New Mexico next week. Tell him.”
She says I promise. She hangs up the phone and curls up behind Sam, presses her lips to the back of his neck and wonders what else he’s hiding.
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And God knows I love defensive Jess. (she must have misheard you!)
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I have missed your Sam and Dean.
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Thank you for sharing :)
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I love your writing style. They're all just so clearly defined, in so few words. Even Dani, who I know for all of two sentences and already love because she knows when to step in and get everyone the hell out of there.
Love Dean and Jess's conversations (especially the "Excuse you?"), and Sam's desperation and sobbing so hard he can't make a sound. Oh, kiddo...
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