SPN: S&S: Secrets
Meaning: Operating in a hidden or confidential manner.
Word Count: 502… soooo close. *pouts*
Time Frame: Adults, after Sam leaves, and just into the Pilot.
Warnings/Spoilers: Um… spoilers for the Pilot. Do we REALLY need to warn for that now?!
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He doesn’t think of the enigma he’ll present to Jess, when the doctor asks if there’s any family he wants them to contact, and he shakes his head no, doesn’t bother trying to verbalize it, not when his lungs are greedy for the oxygen they’re struggling to pull in. Jess stays close, keeps one hand on him at all times, and he thinks distantly that it should be Dean standing there, that Dean would know just how to calm him down, but no. Dean is miles and states away, and Sam is here, alone and scared and praying that this attack will pass like others.
The confusion and pity that crosses her face sends warnings up in his mind, and he wonders if the two would ever meet. Or if he’d just be better off letting his past die, like so many embers.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
They’re moving into the new apartment, hauling up armloads of books as they joke and jib, Sam pretending hurt when Jess bumps his shoulder mirthfully. He returns the favor, forgets for a moment, lost in the teasing and the ribbing, that she isn’t Dean, isn’t used to the strength, and he forgets to check himself. She’s not hurt, just stumbles, a book sliding free, and she teases him good-naturedly. Until her eyes land on the picture, all three of the Winchester men sitting on the Impala, the car gleaming even through years in the photograph, and he can see the moment she recognizes the child as him. And the family resemblance in the other two.
The good mood died, left an aching of sorrow and abandonment in his heart, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions this time.
******************
“Sam, I mean, please. Just…stop for a second. You sure you’re okay?” Sam knows he can’t meet her eyes…he’s not okay, not even in the same ZIP code as okay, but Jess has the maternal instincts of a grizzly, and as much as he loves her, loves her dearly, if she thinks he’s upset, then she won’t hesitate to haul Dean out on his ass, by any means necessary. And she knows him well enough to catch the lie, if he meets her gaze.
“I’m fine.” The glib words fall tastelessly from his lips. She’s not appeased though, pressing harder.
“It’s just…” she trails off for a second, and he can see the accusations she wants to say. ‘They left you alone.’ ‘You wouldn’t me call them when we thought you were dying.’ ‘I can’t ask about them, without upsetting you.’ “You won’t even talk about your family, and now you’re taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is sorta a big deal.”
She’s worried, and he knows there’s nothing that he can say to soothe her, not with Dean standing just yards away. So he kisses her, pretends to not hear her questions after, and resolves to settle it when he gets back.
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Word Count: 502… soooo close. *pouts*
Time Frame: Adults, after Sam leaves, and just into the Pilot.
Warnings/Spoilers: Um… spoilers for the Pilot. Do we REALLY need to warn for that now?!
//////////////////////////////////
He doesn’t think of the enigma he’ll present to Jess, when the doctor asks if there’s any family he wants them to contact, and he shakes his head no, doesn’t bother trying to verbalize it, not when his lungs are greedy for the oxygen they’re struggling to pull in. Jess stays close, keeps one hand on him at all times, and he thinks distantly that it should be Dean standing there, that Dean would know just how to calm him down, but no. Dean is miles and states away, and Sam is here, alone and scared and praying that this attack will pass like others.
The confusion and pity that crosses her face sends warnings up in his mind, and he wonders if the two would ever meet. Or if he’d just be better off letting his past die, like so many embers.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
They’re moving into the new apartment, hauling up armloads of books as they joke and jib, Sam pretending hurt when Jess bumps his shoulder mirthfully. He returns the favor, forgets for a moment, lost in the teasing and the ribbing, that she isn’t Dean, isn’t used to the strength, and he forgets to check himself. She’s not hurt, just stumbles, a book sliding free, and she teases him good-naturedly. Until her eyes land on the picture, all three of the Winchester men sitting on the Impala, the car gleaming even through years in the photograph, and he can see the moment she recognizes the child as him. And the family resemblance in the other two.
The good mood died, left an aching of sorrow and abandonment in his heart, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions this time.
******************
“Sam, I mean, please. Just…stop for a second. You sure you’re okay?” Sam knows he can’t meet her eyes…he’s not okay, not even in the same ZIP code as okay, but Jess has the maternal instincts of a grizzly, and as much as he loves her, loves her dearly, if she thinks he’s upset, then she won’t hesitate to haul Dean out on his ass, by any means necessary. And she knows him well enough to catch the lie, if he meets her gaze.
“I’m fine.” The glib words fall tastelessly from his lips. She’s not appeased though, pressing harder.
“It’s just…” she trails off for a second, and he can see the accusations she wants to say. ‘They left you alone.’ ‘You wouldn’t me call them when we thought you were dying.’ ‘I can’t ask about them, without upsetting you.’ “You won’t even talk about your family, and now you’re taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is sorta a big deal.”
She’s worried, and he knows there’s nothing that he can say to soothe her, not with Dean standing just yards away. So he kisses her, pretends to not hear her questions after, and resolves to settle it when he gets back.
***************************
Previous (Nightmare) Home Next (Coffee)