Who's Dean?
Title: Who's Dean?
Characters: Sam/Jessica
Rating: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 669
Summary: Sam talks in his sleep. Jessica has questions. -- I don't know just popped into my head earlier today. Meeeeep.
They were supposed to be studying. Sam was studying. Jessica was watching him. It was one of the things she loved most about him. How dedicated he was to his studies. Plus his brow did that adorable little scrunchy thing when he was deep in consideration. Stopping to look at him wasn't exactly a new thing. Under normal circumstances a glimpse could sustain her for at least a good twenty minutes before she needed another hit. But right now she just couldn't concentrate. She bit her bottom lip, worrying it a little.
"Sam," she managed to get out with a certain degree of certainty and she put her pen down.
"Hmm," was Sam's response, automatic, reflexive, still submersed in the text before him.
"Who's Dean?" and she wants to say that he stiffened, but that's not quite it at all, it's more of a non-reaction, a blip of a pause.
But he looks up, "What?"
Brow furrowed in a different kind of puzzlement.
Jessica gives him the benefit of the doubt, "You kept murmuring his name in your sleep last night," the sub level of consciousness wasn't the most reliable source most of the time. Sometimes dreams were just batshit crazy, straight up, no underlying causes. But still, "Should I be worried?" she asked with a half smirk, quirk set in her eyebrow, hoping a little levity might get more out of him than a syllable.
"What?" and he huffed with a hint of a laugh and a subtle shake of his head, "No," he said more firmly and then sighed, "No. He's-...he's my brother."
"Your brother?" she would need more than a moment to digest that, "He's okay isn't he?" the weight of his words hinted towards something bad, or in the least not of the good.
"Yeah. 'Course."
"Right," Jessica said, still processing, "You just never thought it was important to mention that you had one. Like ever? Why didn't you tell me about him?" and she really geniunely wanted to know, she'd pretty much told him everything. He didn't like to talk about his past. His family. His mother had died before he could even talk. The pain he had from that ran right to his core. She understood that. And she wasn't asking for a blow by blow account. But they lived together now, and not telling her he had a brother?
"Sam?" she prompted when he still hadn't said anything.
"Never really came up," is what he tried for but even he knew she wasn't going to buy it before he finished saying it, there had been plenty of opportunities. He sighed again, heavily, "I just-" he threw his hands up and let his arms drop to the table. Jessica reached across closing her hand round his forearm, with a gentle brush of her thumb.
He looked at her, "I haven't seen him in-...it's been a while," his eyes dropped back to his notes, "We kind of parted on bad terms."
Jessica gave his arm a squeeze seeing the hurt flicker behind his eyes the rest set squarely in his shoulders.
"Maybe you should call him."
"Maybe."
"Maybe like you're going to call him maybe?" Or maybe as in no. She didn't need to say that part for Sam to hear it, she knew he did.
"Jess," and that was it. Walls back up.
Jessica sighed, "Fine. I think I'm going to go take a walk."
"Jess," he started.
"Brody called earlier said he might want to hang later. Try not to stay out too late?" she said with a parting kiss to his cheek. Not that Sam would. He wasn't like that. He was responsible and he cared about his friends, making sure everyone else stayed safe. She wondered where he got that from and was holding on to the hope that one day he would let her see.
Characters: Sam/Jessica
Rating: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 669
Summary: Sam talks in his sleep. Jessica has questions. -- I don't know just popped into my head earlier today. Meeeeep.
They were supposed to be studying. Sam was studying. Jessica was watching him. It was one of the things she loved most about him. How dedicated he was to his studies. Plus his brow did that adorable little scrunchy thing when he was deep in consideration. Stopping to look at him wasn't exactly a new thing. Under normal circumstances a glimpse could sustain her for at least a good twenty minutes before she needed another hit. But right now she just couldn't concentrate. She bit her bottom lip, worrying it a little.
"Sam," she managed to get out with a certain degree of certainty and she put her pen down.
"Hmm," was Sam's response, automatic, reflexive, still submersed in the text before him.
"Who's Dean?" and she wants to say that he stiffened, but that's not quite it at all, it's more of a non-reaction, a blip of a pause.
But he looks up, "What?"
Brow furrowed in a different kind of puzzlement.
Jessica gives him the benefit of the doubt, "You kept murmuring his name in your sleep last night," the sub level of consciousness wasn't the most reliable source most of the time. Sometimes dreams were just batshit crazy, straight up, no underlying causes. But still, "Should I be worried?" she asked with a half smirk, quirk set in her eyebrow, hoping a little levity might get more out of him than a syllable.
"What?" and he huffed with a hint of a laugh and a subtle shake of his head, "No," he said more firmly and then sighed, "No. He's-...he's my brother."
"Your brother?" she would need more than a moment to digest that, "He's okay isn't he?" the weight of his words hinted towards something bad, or in the least not of the good.
"Yeah. 'Course."
"Right," Jessica said, still processing, "You just never thought it was important to mention that you had one. Like ever? Why didn't you tell me about him?" and she really geniunely wanted to know, she'd pretty much told him everything. He didn't like to talk about his past. His family. His mother had died before he could even talk. The pain he had from that ran right to his core. She understood that. And she wasn't asking for a blow by blow account. But they lived together now, and not telling her he had a brother?
"Sam?" she prompted when he still hadn't said anything.
"Never really came up," is what he tried for but even he knew she wasn't going to buy it before he finished saying it, there had been plenty of opportunities. He sighed again, heavily, "I just-" he threw his hands up and let his arms drop to the table. Jessica reached across closing her hand round his forearm, with a gentle brush of her thumb.
He looked at her, "I haven't seen him in-...it's been a while," his eyes dropped back to his notes, "We kind of parted on bad terms."
Jessica gave his arm a squeeze seeing the hurt flicker behind his eyes the rest set squarely in his shoulders.
"Maybe you should call him."
"Maybe."
"Maybe like you're going to call him maybe?" Or maybe as in no. She didn't need to say that part for Sam to hear it, she knew he did.
"Jess," and that was it. Walls back up.
Jessica sighed, "Fine. I think I'm going to go take a walk."
"Jess," he started.
"Brody called earlier said he might want to hang later. Try not to stay out too late?" she said with a parting kiss to his cheek. Not that Sam would. He wasn't like that. He was responsible and he cared about his friends, making sure everyone else stayed safe. She wondered where he got that from and was holding on to the hope that one day he would let her see.