In From The Cold - SN fic - PG
Title: In From The Cold
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: Sam and Jessica aren’t mine.
Warnings: spoilers for pilot
Pairings: Jessica’s parents; Jessica’s grandparents; Sam/Jessica
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 2280
Point of view: third
Notes: same universe as my Dean canon. Having read “ Manna from Heaven” will help this make more sense, though isn’t necessary
“Kevin Moore,” Heather shouted, brushing her long blond hair. “If you’re not ready to go, I swear you won’t get any cheesecake for six months!”
“Cheater!” he called back, trumping up the stairs. Heather smirked into the mirror, meeting his eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “You look lovely, sweetie,” he said. He didn’t look so bad himself, wearing a new shirt-dark blue, it brought out his eyes. Clung to his still-lean frame, too.
And the jeans didn’t help things, either. He was in damn-fine shape for a man that just turned fifty-five. Still had all his hair, for Heaven’s sake! Turning gray, but not too much. Made him look distinguished.
“Where’s Nate?” Heather asked, standing and putting down the brush, flinging her hair out of her face.
“Just called; he’ll be here in five minutes.” Kevin cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her; she kissed back for a moment before putting a hand to his chest and lightly shoving.
“Momma and Daddy?”
Kevin sighed and pressed his face against the skin of her shoulder. “You really think I’d forget your parents, Heather?” he scoffed and kissed her. “They’re here; the van’s more’n big enough.”
“I just want everythin’ perfect, Kev-our baby girl’s comin’ home.” Heather turned her face up to him and opened her forest-green eyes wide. She didn’t pout; that would be unbecoming of a fifty-two year old woman. But close enough to it for government work.
“I know she is,” Kevin replied, kissing her lips once more before taking her hand. “And she’s bringin’ some boy with her.”
-
The drive to the airport was quiet. Heather sat on the middle seat with Daddy; Nate was shoved to the back.
First time Jessica was coming home since a month after going to Stanford, the year before. Heather hadn’t wanted her only daughter going all the way across the country, leaving behind everyone and everything she knew-but Jess was adamant. Greg had wanted to go to Stanford, Jessica told her, eyes solemn, voice breaking. So, that’s where Jessica would go.
Greg… it still hurt Heather to think about her firstborn, to remember how completely she failed him. She had that letter he’d written tucked away in her room; never had told Jess or Nate about it. Never will.
Greg would be twenty-six now.
Heather sniffed and tried to covertly wipe at her eyes, but Daddy looked over and caught her gaze. He reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “’s’alright, baby girl,” Daddy whispered into her hair and she felt like a child again, wanting Daddy to make everything better. “Jessie’s comin’ home. Just hold tight to that.”
“I know,” Heather whispered and smiled up at Daddy. “But I miss Greg.”
Momma twisted shotgun to look back and meet Heather’s gaze. “We all do, baby girl,” Momma said. “But just remember-he’s beyond pain, now.”
Heather never could forget that. She still saw him-bloody, pale, cold, unmoving-in her nightmares.
Daddy gripped her hand hard, kissed her palm. “Your daughter’s comin’ home, baby,” he murmured. “Just think’a that.”
-
The plane was late. An hour spent pacing around the airport, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, remembering Jessica in the days and months after Greg’s death, how closed off and hollow Jess’d been. Only Nate, sweet three-year-old Nate, could break down Jessica’s walls.
Momma and Daddy sat next to each other in the uncomfortable chairs, heads bent close together, discussing some movie they’d been to see.
Kevin watched her, a small smile quirking his lips. Nate sat next to his father, bending his ear about some novel he’d read because Jess’d mailed it to him.
But Heather just paced around, anxious and annoyed, praying that her daughter’s plane landed safely because she couldn’t lose another child. She just couldn’t.
“It’ll be fine, Hettie,” Kevin said, coming up behind her and kissing her neck. She leaned back against him, seeking comfort. “You’ll see, love.” She’d always loved standing in his embrace. His size-six three and shockingly broad-was what had first drawn her gaze, all those years ago. She was no shrimp herself, at five ten, and loved having to look up at him.
“I hope so, Kev,” she replied, turning to face him. She smiled and linked her arms around his neck, stretching up for a kiss.
“Mom!” Nate shouted, running past her. “Dad, they’re here!”
Heather spun around and darted after her son, Kevin and her parents just behind her. “Do we have the wrong gate?” she heard Daddy ask, but she didn’t look back. She could see her daughter now, her gloriously beautiful daughter, leading some boy-wow, tall-by the hand.
“Jessie!” Nate called, lunging forward to wrap himself around his sister, squeezing her tight. “You’re back!”
Jess grinned brightly and hugged her brother, laughing. “Damn, Natey, you get taller?”
Nate laughed, too, looking happier than Heather had seen him since Jessica flew him back home.
The boy-what’s his name? Sam?-hung back, dark green eyes nervous. Like a skittish colt, Heather thought. She quickly ran through what all she knew about this Sam as Jessica pulled away from Nate and hugged her: pre-law, tall, beautiful eyes, sweet, affectionate, protective.
“Momma,” Jess whispered in her ear. “I missed you so much.”
“Oh, baby girl,” Heather whispered back, “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Jessica fisted her hands in Heather’s shirt and sniffed, then pulled back. She swiftly and firmly embraced the others, then returned to stand beside Sam, taking his hand.
“Everyone,” she said, “this is my boyfriend, Sam Winchester.” She smiled up at him. “Sam, these are my parents, Heather and Kevin Moore, my brother Nathan, and my grandparents, Katerina and Victor.”
Sam peered at them through his bangs, a shy smile at the corners of his lips. “It’s wonderful to finally meet all’a ya’ll,” he said, voice soft.
Daddy stepped forward first, appearing small compared to Sam, even though he was over six foot. Sam held out a hand, but Daddy bypassed it and pulled him into a huge hug.
Sam seemed shocked and didn’t react for a moment before hesitantly clasping his arms around Daddy.
“Good to meet you, too, son,” Daddy told him, stepping back. “Welcome.”
Sam’s smile blossomed and Heather had to catch her breath. Such a beautiful smile-made her think of kittens and puppies and a cloudless, never-ending sky.
“Well,” Momma announced, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s get the luggage and back to the house-I have cheesecake in the oven.”
Kevin’s face lit up. “Oh, Kat-chocolate?”
Momma laughed and Jess buried her face in Sam’s chest, blushing beet-red. Heather studied him as Momma said, “With chocolate chips.” He looked bemused and shell-shocked, unsure of what to do or say. According to Jess, he hadn’t had much of a childhood, though she didn’t know much. She had told Heather about his scars, though. Quite a collection, a patchwork all over his body.
Heather didn’t like thinking about her baby girl and some boy in bed, but she was by no means a prude. At least Jessica was being open this time.
Heather still hated that boy Bobby, who didn’t care enough about Jess to make her first time pleasurable. Good thing he’d gone to school in Florida.
Momma led the way to luggage-claim and Heather linked her hand with Jessica’s, asking about Stanford; Jess started with the teachers and went from there. Nate was on Jessica’s other side, Kev walking with Momma, and Daddy bringing up the rear with Sam.
-
Once they were back at the van, Heather realized that seating would be a problem. Kevin would drive; he trusted no one with his baby, even Heather. Momma got shotgun, always, no matter what vehicle she was in. Sitting in the back made her vomit, had since she was a girl. Heather, Nate, and Daddy each wanted to sit by Jess, though that left Sam reeling, since she was the only one he knew.
Daddy solved the problem for her. “You kids to the back,” he told all three of them.
Jess grinned and shoved at Nate to go first, then crawled in after him, smiling at Sam. He slid in, trying to bend his twelve-foot legs in some comfortable way. Heather winced just watching, but he finally settled.
She slipped into the middle seat, scooting all the way over, and Daddy swung himself in, shutting the door. Kevin gunned the engine and Momma fussed at him; Nate and Jess were whispering in the backseat. The family felt complete again and Heather sank back against the seat, at peace.
-
Once they reached the house, Momma rushed in like lightning. Kal and Tigre, the wolfhounds, were howling in the yard, demanding to meet this new person; Nate galloped over to the fence and opened it, letting them out. Sam froze, eyes on the large dogs, but Jess stood beside him, holding his hand, and said, “Down.”
Both dogs dropped immediately and Jess, still gripping Sam, knelt, running her other hand along Kal’s back, then Tigre’s. “C’mon, Sam,” she asked, “let ‘em get your scent.”
Sam closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and knelt beside her. Daddy and Kevin headed inside but Heather and Nate stayed with them until Jessica decided she’d subjected Sam to enough. “Inside,” Nate called to the ‘hounds and they both bounded for the door.
Jessica gave Sam a tour of the house, Nate following them, while Heather made her way to the kitchen. “Get of Momma’s hair,” she told Kevin, smacking him the arm. “How can she be expected to get anything done with you hanging around?”
Kevin attempted puppy-eyes that hadn’t worked in years and Heather snickered. “Get out of the kitchen unless you wanna be useful.” He flounced out, fake-glaring over his shoulder.
Heather shared a glance with Momma then followed him, heading up stairs. She tracked the kids down to Jessica’s room, where Nate was showing Sam some embarrassing pictures and Jess had her head buried her arms.
“This is when she was in the eighth-grade talent show,” Nate said as she entered the room. “She did some ballerina moves-even though she’d never been a ballerina-and gave herself whiplash.”
“Sam,” Heather called and his head shot up.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked, straightening.
“What d’ya want for dinner?” She was used to tall men-a husband at six three and a son taller still-but Sam? He was tall.
“Anything, ma’am,” he answered, ducking his head.
“Jess told me you’re a good cook,” she said, taking a chance. “That true?”
He looked at her through his bangs. “I suppose so, ma’am.”
Heather hadn’t been around such a polite boy in years, not since grade-school and that marine’s son spent a month with them.
Jessica scoffed. “Don’t listen to him, Mom. He’s as good as Grandmomma.”
Sam blushed. Nate went to say something, but a scathing look from Heather hushed him right up.
“You wanna help me in the kitchen?” Heather offered with a gentle smile.
Sam lowered his head again. “I’m sure I’d just be in the way, ma’am.”
She flicked a glance at Jess, who nodded. Heather stepped forward and lightly gripped his elbow. “I’m sure you won’t be, Sam. C’mon-I can tell you what all of her favorite meals are.”
He shot Jess a quick look and she smiled again, so Sam allowed Heather to pull him to the kitchen. As they entered, Momma gave him a brilliant grin. “I was just about to put this in the fridge,” she said, placing some foil over the cheesecake. “Then I’ll be outta your way.”
Heather watched in bemusement as Sam watched Momma with an intent gaze, following her across the kitchen with his eyes. Momma looked like she always had-tiny little thing, about five three, her dark brown hair long lightened to gray, eyes hazel and deep. She was wearing a sweat suit, summer-sky blue, and she was beautiful-not that Heather was biased, or anything.
Momma bustled out of the kitchen, humming some old song. Jasper-Kevin’s mutt-bounded up to her, demanding attention. Heather turned to Sam, who was looking at his feet, shoulders hunched up, trying to appear smaller. “Now, Sam,” she said sidling past him to the counter and sitting on a stool, “what do you know how to cook?”
He listed off things that ranged from jambalaya to etouffee to chowder to chimichangas, soups and salads, sandwiches, Chicken Marsala-she cut him off with, “Who taught you?”
He hadn’t looked up from his feet. “My brother.”
She studied him for a moment: tall, of course, topping six five easily. Long, dark brown hair bordering on black that flopped adorably into his eyes. Strong features, high cheekbones. Tan. And those glinting green eyes that Jessica had waxed poetic about on the phone. “How’d you meet my daughter?” she asked without meaning to.
He raised his head, meeting her gaze. “I was waiting in line at the cafeteria,” he said after a moment. “She was behind me and started a conversation about some sports star-a baseball player.” He shrugged, smiling. “She made me laugh.”
Heather smiled. She seemed to be doing that a lot around this boy. “She loves oven-fried chicken,” Heather told him, hopping off the stool. “So let’s get to it.”
She liked this boy, with his shy smile and hesitant nature. She could even grow to love him one day, and showing him around her kitchen, she hoped he’d stay for a long, long time.