An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 13/?
Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Relationships: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), John Winchester, Real Tyson Brady, Luis (Supernatural: Pilot), Original Supernatural (TV) Character(s)
Additional Tags: Complicated Relationships, Love at First Sight, Established Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore Lives (Supernatural), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, emotional af, Season/Series 02
Series: Part 3 of What Never Was But Should Have Been
Summary:
Despite knowing about the Family Business, Jessica Moore has committed to being with Sam Winchester. Medical School, Law school, the Supernatural, and other secrets make balancing their two realities feel nearly impossible. And it may prove to be the most difficult challenge they've faced yet.
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It's about Dean. Everything he seems to do is about Dean, but he's 11 and still young enough for it to just be written off as a little brother idolising the older one.
Still, Sam finds himself using all those romantic sonnet tropes he was being taught about in school currently, and he puts it down as the words and format just fitting Dean far better.
He keeps the poem tucked in the bottom of his duffel, and has forgotten about it by the time he digs it out with his shirt four years later.
He reads over it, cringing at the childish innocence on the pages, reflecting on how even back then he had these... thoughts. His eleven year old self didn't get it. He was naive, and he was fairly certain that the poem didn't sound so damn romantic to him back then.
But it did now. It was a romantic poem written by a fucked up kid who didn't even realise how fucked up he was yet. Back when he could genuinely trick himself into believing that the feelings he had were brotherly and platonic and normal.
His fifteen year old self didn't get that luxury.
He was too self aware. He knew too much. He knew that he wasn't supposed to have that fluttery feeling in his stomach whenever Dean touched him. He wasn't supposed to feel his face burn when they had to share a bed, and he definitely wasn't supposed to feel that sort of suffocating pain in his chest when he watched Dean kiss a girl.
The poem makes him feel nauseous but he doesn't throw it away like he should. Instead, he folds the crumpled piece of paper neatly and puts it in his small keepsake box in his duffel.
And then he makes his way to the small table in the motel room, pulls out a empty side of A4 from his notebook and a pen.
He spends far too much time trying to rhyme it, build a line structure or some sort of format. There's a growing pile of adjectives at the bottom of the page, some obscured by crosses and scribbles.
But then he forces himself to just write. To write the first poem he had written since sixth grade.
It's not perfect, and it's a lot more solemn and dark in its tone in comparison to the one he wrote at 9. Dean's hands are no longer shields protecting him from evil and delivering him from danger effortlessly. They're a symbol for a sinful temptation, the safety they once offered obscured by Sam's sick thoughts and dreams where in they're used to hold him down, to clamp over his mouth to muffle moans.
He feels even more nauseous after finishing it than he did before, but it gets tucked away with the other in the little box.
Sam continues to write poetry after that. Always about Dean, but the tone shifts and soon he isn't relying on dreams and wishes to describe Dean's lips on his body or his hands in his hair, pulling and twisting.
When he leaves for Stanford, he stops writing poetry all together until he sees a beautiful blonde girl sat at a bar, with unfamiliar green eyes and a birthday that Sam couldn't forget if he tried.
The difference is, he shows Jess the poems about her. She loves them and he gives them to her to keep. Which she does, in her bedside table.
They burn up in the fire like everything else, and Sam only escapes with his duffel, the box of mounting poems regarding Dean feeling ten times heavier on his shoulders.
His poetry after that is less frequent, but he still does it. Dean's the subject more often than not.
He never does tell Dean about them, and years later when he's packing up his duffel to leave the bunker permanently, alone in the world other than Miracle, he finds the box where he tucked it in the back of his drawers.
He reads every one and it's difficult with the tears and vodka clouding his vision.
He burns the box with Dean's body and hopes that somehow, wherever Dean is, he takes them with him.
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Pairing : Dean x Reader, Past! Sam x Reader, Sam x Jessica Moore (mentioned), John x Mary (mentioned)
Word count : 3,148
Warnings : If you’re like me, have tissues ready.
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Additional part of A Series of firsts.
Dean was watching the Arrivals screen, looking for Sam’s flight and status. He’s not looking at you, but he hasn’t looked at you much all day. In fact, it’s been a bit over a week that he’s been acting oddly. And to be honest, worry crept in about two days ago.
“Dean?”
“This way. He should be landing any minute.”
Licking your lips, you follow with a sigh. You’re a step or two behind him, searching your mind for what feels like the millionth time, for something, anything to explain the odd distance you can feel between you. He still touches you, still holds you like he always has, but when he looks at you, it’s different. His gaze is quick to shift away, and sometimes he looks elsewhere when he’s talking, or his mind is focused on something else when you talk. Like he’s hiding something, and that scares you.
Because Dean isn’t that guy. He’s never been that guy. He loves with his whole heart and you know that about him, you know that to be true. But he’s also never hidden anything from you, nothing major anyways as far as you know, and whatever this is, it’s obviously big.
“Dean-”
“Here.”
“Dean, please?”
“Sammy will easily see us-”
“Would you just shut up about Sam!?” Dean turns in surprise, and you’re standing in the middle of people rushing past.
“Baby,” Dean moves closer again. “What’s going on?”
Your hands come up only to fall again. “That’s what I’m trying to find out! What I’ve been trying to find out for days.” And there it is again, the shift of his eyes away from yours, as if whatever it is is hidden there and he doesn’t want you to see it. But you can feel your heart breaking. “Is it the baby? Because I didn’t want it? Or.. Because it turned out I wasn’t-”
“No..” Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy.
“Because that was months ago, Dean, and I thought we moved on.”
“We did.” He gives you a small nod. “We’re good, baby, I promise-”
“Do you regret this? Us?” He looks confused. “The house? Is it not working?”
“Where is this coming from?” He takes a cautious step closer, and you can see that he’s starting to look scared too.
You shake your head, tears burning your eyes. “You’re different, Dean. It’s been a week, and I don’t know why.. Did I do something?”
“No, baby..” He reaches out and steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “No. You didn’t do anything.”
You feel guilty asking the next question that pops into your head, but you need to know for sure. So you close your eyes, and will out the words. “Is it someone else?”
“No.” He almost chuckles. “There could never be anyone else. It’ll always be you.” You look up at him again, and you can see truth of his love is still there, but you can also see that he’s hiding something. It’s in the worry lines that etch his face. “It’ll always be you, I promise.”
He presses his lips to your forehead, and the second you feel the contact, you ask another question, one that freezes him on the spot. “Then why don’t you look at me anymore?” Silence, and his lips don’t move from their spot. “Whenever my eyes meet yours, you look away. Whenever we talk, you’re not all there.. I know you're hiding something from me, Dean, and I’m getting scared.” You grab hold of his jacket and hold on tight, terrified to let go. “Remember how scared you were thinking you’d lose me to Sam? That’s how I feel, only.. I don’t know what I’m losing you to…”
“You’re not losing me, baby, I promise.” His lips pursed against your forehead once more, another gentle kiss to reassure you.
“Then what the fuck is going on?”
“Can we do this later?”
“No! I want to know now, Dean. Right fucking now.”
He pulls back, and there's a smile on his face. A smile that softens when he sees the track of a tear that had run down your cheek. “You’re not going to like me doing this here.” he says it with a soft chuckle as he wipes away the wet line on your cheek.
“Just tell me… please?”
He nods, glancing down awkwardly at his feet for a minute, and does his best to block out all the people rushing past you both in the airport. “You’ve done nothing wrong, baby. In fact, you do everything right.” You gave him a confused look as he smiled and looked up again. “I love you. With every fibre of my being, I love you. Baby or not, I will always love you.” he’s cupping your face again as he tells you that. “But I want it all with you. White picket fences, 2.5 kids and a fucking dog. The perfect apple pie life, I want that, with you and only you.”
You can’t help but tear up at the words, can’t stop them from running down your cheeks. “Then what changed?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not yet, anyways.” His hands leave your face, and you let go of his jacket reluctantly as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small black velvet box and you gasp. “I bought this almost two weeks ago.” He chuckles. “I saw it, and I knew. I just fucking knew. Been wracking my brain since, trying to figure out how to ask you, it had to be perfect, because that what you are. Perfect.”
Your hands are tucked in your sleeves, and you bring them up to wipe away the tears running freely down your face, taking a swipe at your nose as you sniffle.
“Do I get you alone? Do I do it when everyone's here? Your family and mine, a big fancy diner so everyone can share in the moment? Fuck..” He laughed. “I almost asked you after sex three nights ago.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that. “That would be very Dean like.”
He’s grinning like a fool and nodding. “It was that good.” He teased, loving that smile on your face. “I never did figure out the perfect way to-”
“Ask me now.”
Dean stared at you for a minute then shook his head. “You hate this.” He gestured around. “You once told me if someone ever proposed in a heavily populated public space you'd say no on principle.. that such proposals are just massive pressures to say-”
“Just shut up and ask me, Dean. That's all I need for it to be perfect.”
“Even in an airport?” he gave you a weird look and you smiled and nodded. “Alright, but I want it on record that you asked for this.. If the kids ask-”
“You're off the hook. I promise.”
Dean nodded, then cleared his throat with a furrowed brow before he got down on one knee. “I've known you my whole life, and I spent damn near most of it dreaming of this. Well, minus the airport.” He chuckled and you smiled down at him. “A part of me always loved you. Always. I loved that you’d try and climb into my tree house just to be around me, but I couldn’t tell you that, I was too dumb and young. I loved helping you beat Sam at video games, and as proud as I was when you didn’t need it anymore, my heart broke a little. Because you didn’t need me anymore. And as shit as the party was in the end for you, and I’m forever sorry it was, it’s one of my favourite memories. Not because of what we did.. But because you needed me again, and I got to be there for you again. It was the only way I ever had to show you how I felt, and you finally saw it.” He smiled. “It didn’t last, not that night, but it was enough for me. Because I had a chance, I had hope again. I almost asked you to your prom. I stopped myself, because I didn’t think you’d say yes, not after what Sam did.. I was so scared you hated me after what Sam did, and it killed me seeing you so hurt. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, and that was the best fucking decision I ever made in my life.”
Dean opened the small velvet box and gave you your first glimpse at the ring he’d chosen for you. “Walking in that diner was the best decision I had ever made.. Asking you out, asking you to be mine, asking you to move in.. Every good decision in my life starts with you. Now I’m making one more. Probably my best one yet.” He smiled. “Let me give you that perfect apple pie life I see for us. Grow old with me, sweetheart, and don’t you dare crack a joke about how I’m already halfway there.”
“Dean..”
“Marry me.”
You were quick to nod, and suddenly there were people around you clapping as Dean pulled the ring out and slipped it over your finger. Once it was in place, you got down with him, wrapping your arms around him tight and holding on. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he chuckled.
“For doubting you. Even for a second. I’m sorry.”
You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed your neck. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I understand.”
His hand rubbed your back and you relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of being wrapped up in him, wrapped up in his love for as long as you could. But when you looked around, the crowd now dispersing and going on their way, one person was standing there, pain etched on his face. “Sam..”
Dean pulled back from you and turned to look behind him. “Sammy.” Dean grinned as you got up and he followed, getting to his feet.
Sam gave an awkward smile, slight nod to his head as his eyes drifted to your hand and the ring on your finger. “I guess congratulations are in order, huh..”
Dean started towards Sam, who dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder so he could hug his brother. They pat each other on the back, Dean smiling like a fool, but Sam’s eyes on you. “We’re celebrating this weekend.” Dean beamed as he pulled away. “Drinks on me. Hey, where’s Jess?”
“Oh, uh..” Sam grabbed his bag and slung it back over his shoulder. “Paper due. She’ll be on the next flight, tomorrow night.”
“Alright.” Dean clapped his brother on the back and then joined you. “Drinks at home tonight, and then we party hard when Jess gets in. Sound good, baby?” You nodded and smiled as he laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s get home.”
You were sitting outside nursing the same beer you’d been nursing for the last half hour at least. When you heard the door open, and boot steps coming up behind you, you weren’t at all surprised by who sat down next to you. “So.. Gettin’ married huh?”
“Looks like it, yeah..”
Sam took a swig of his own beer before glancing over at you. “You don’t sound happy..”
“It's complicated..” you muttered, looking down at the bottle in your hands.
“Not really.” Sam shrugged. “My brother asked you to marry him, and you said yes. Sounds pretty simple.”
“It's not.” your nails scratched at the label, peeling back the edges.
“What's wrong, I thought you were happy?” You shrugged, and he nudged your knee with his. “Talk to me. We might not be as close as we use to be, but I still know you, you can still talk to me.”
“I was.. I am, happy.” You corrected and sighed. “I don’t know what to do..”
Sam gave you a confused look. “About what? Dean? Marry him, if that’s what you want..” He was quiet. “Is that what you want?”
“If it wasn’t, would I have said yes?” You shot him a glare.
“Then I don’t see the problem.” he looked ahead again, and lifted his beer up to his mouth. “At least not your problem.” he muttered into the bottle before taking a swig.
“He wants it perfect. All of it, everything. The perfect wedding of my dreams.” You were looking down again.
“He loves you.” Sam shrugged. “I wanted to give you that too… once.” He quickly downed the rest of his bottle, trying desperately to mask the pain.
“That’s the problem.”
“So, what? I’m the problem?” Sam gave you an incredulous look. “I thought we moved past this shit, I’m fucking trying, here. I thought we-”
“No, Sam. It’s not you… well.. Not exactly.” You sighed, and Sam waited for an explanation. “I had a long time to dream up perfect weddings. Everything I could have ever wanted, down to the last detail, different weddings thought up in different times of my life, and each one of them was perfect.”
“Then use one of those..” Sam was confused. “I don’t-”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
You clenched your jaw in annoyance that Sam wasn’t understanding what you were trying to get across without saying the words out loud. “When I was five, I was positive I’d get married here. Right here, in your backyard.” You sighed. “Your dad would barbecue, my dad would argue he wasn’t doing it right.” you chuckled. “Your mom would be the photographer, and your dog would be my ring bearer. And from up in the tree house, petals would rain down on me as I walked towards my husband to be.”
“Dog running the rings isn’t all that odd, but I don’t think I could rain petals down on you. Think I got too big for that tree house a long ass time ago.” he smiled.
But you shook your head. “When I was 13, the perfect wedding was in the woods, the one we always went camping in.” You looked to Sam. “No one there, but us and the animals that lived there..”
“Forest wedding sounds-”
“When I was 15, I wanted a beach wedding.” you smiled looking up at him. “I didn’t care where, or who came, I just wanted to be on a beach in the sun with the love of my life.”
“I don’t..” His brows furrowed. “What's wrong with those? They sound perfect-”
“For you.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “They were all how I planned to marry you, you idiot. I spent so much of my life thinking this would be us, and I planned every perfect wedding around you.” you huffed out a laugh and looked up at the sky. “So what do I do, Sam? He wants to give me the wedding of my dreams, but they all had me marrying you.”
“Fuck..” Sam sat there just staring.
“Exactly. I never thought I’d marry anyone else. For so long, I never wanted to. And then when shit hit the fan…” You shrugged. “I never expected anyone else to want me enough to.”
“You must have know Dean would..”
You nodded. “I guess I did. Maybe I didn’t want to get my hopes up by planning it all out ahead of time..”
“I’m sorry.” You looked at him, and you could see so much pain in his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. And I’m sorry for my shitty reaction to all this.. I just..” Sam got quiet for a moment. “I still love you. Maybe I always will.” He sighed. “It hurts that it’s not me, and I get why it’s not.” he assured. “A part of me hates myself for it. Hates that I fucked up one of the best things in my life, hates that I can’t be as happy for you as I want to be..”
“You want to be happy for me?”
“Of course I do.” Sam reached up, his thumb brushing along your jaw for a moment before he pulled away. “Even if it’s not with me, even if I have to watch you walk down that isle to my brother, I just want you happy. So, we figure out a new perfect wedding.” Sam smiled. “One for you and Dean.”
“Thanks, Sammy.” You put your beer bottle down and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. “Thanks for still being here for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Never again.” You buried your head against his shoulder for a moment and nodded. Then you pulled away with a sniffled and wiped off your face. “You know.” He gave you a playful smile. “You could honestly just put the Impala at the top of the driveway, decorate that and marry Dean in front of it, and it’ll be the best wedding ever for him.”
You laughed. “I think if I did that, he’d just marry the car.” Sam laughed, a full and hearty laugh, one you felt like you hadn’t heard in years, and it made you smile. “Hey, Sam?”
“Hm?”
“Can you do me a favour?”
He shrugged. “Sure, what is it?”
Licking your lips, you searched his face for a moment before asking. “I know this might suck for you, but it would mean the world to me..” He waited patiently. “Could you… Could you be the one to give me away?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “I- Are you sure? Shouldn’t your dad..” He motioned back into the house to where your parents were drinking and celebrating with his.
“Who better to give me away than you, Sammy? Think about it. You had my heart for so long, you still have a small piece of it. What better way to move on from that past, than for you to be the one to give me away.”
Sam sighed. “You’re serious about marrying my brother?”
“I am.”
“You sure you want what your asking?”
“I know it’ll be hard, and I’m sorry I’m asking for so much… but it’s perfect. It’s what I want, Sam. I want you to still be a part of my perfect wedding.” Sam nodded. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll do it. It’s gonna fuckng suck, but I’ll do it. For you.”
Tearing up again, you threw your arms around him once more. “Thank you.”
“Everything okay here?” You could hear the worry in Dean’s voice.
Pulling away from Sam, you wiped your face once more and smiled up at him. “Step one of perfect wedding is a go.”
Dean gave Sam a confused look. “Looks like I’m handing you your bride, big brother.” Sam smiled. “That last piece of her heart that I hold, I’m giving it to you on your wedding day,”
“Get up.” Sam got up at his brothers command, and was quickly wrapped in a hug. “Thanks, Sammy. That means a lot to me.”
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Tagging : A series of firsts - @coffee-obsessed-writer @colie87 @super-fan-of-all-things @kdfrqqg @winchesterweirdo @dat-mabel @anime-music-is-life @sammysgirl1997 @sweetest-bug @fanfictionslut @your-sparklywinnercollection
He was smart and more than capable with a lot of different things. He was a very skilled hunter and had enough of a grasp of magic that he was able to help grow more food.
He was strong in a lot of ways and he had a big heart, focusing on helping people that weren't even from his own universe rather than try to get back to his own world. He taught the children of the group a lot of different subjects, knowing them in very fair depth, and he seems to almost be a fountain of knowledge and information.
Walking beside him Jess could feel his strength and his muscles even through the clothes just from the way he walked. He had a slight step that hinted at his prowess and hinted at just how strong he was.
He wasn’t that bad looking either, a touch feminine with his long hair and fair features but the slowly growing beard did fit him in a way. He was lean without being too skinny, muscular without being too jacked. He was fit and formed and held himself with confidence but no pretension.
He had a touch of childness to him as well despite everything. She saw it in his small smiles that he gave her, the tenderness he had in his eyes when he spoke about his brother and mother. He was gentle when he helped with the first aid and at the same time he had a hardness to his features when they were out hunting. He killed angels without hesitation with efficiency and directness.
All in all, he wasn't a bad guy in the least. Apparently in his universe she and him were together and a small part of her could see it. She could see him being younger and her back when she had been in school. She could see his boyish charm and dimples that were slowly hiding behind a beard and figured that yes, she could fall for him.
She wasn't fond of how he would sometimes slip and compare her to the other Jessica though. He was starting to do that less and less but she still was ruffled at that.
It didn't matter if they were supposed to be the same person. They were two different ones and that's how she wanted to be known, for herself. Maybe in one universe Jessica Moore was going to be a nurse but in this one, the one she claimed and lived in, she was Jessica Moore, hunter and apocalypse survivor.
Letting out a small sigh Jess glanced at Sam who was sleeping, his arm being used as a makeshift pillow. She had just gotten back from her watch and was a bit happy that Sam was asleep, using this time to just try to sort her thoughts out.
The world was ending and she wasn't sure if they were going to be able to save it. They managed to buy some time with Sams spells, but the world was going to end and it was going to take the humans with it, it was just a matter of time.
Slowly Jess laid down next to him on the ground, moving so that she could curl a bit more into him. Sam woke up, she could tell from how tense his body got for a moment before he realized that it was her, and then moved his arm to wrap around her, holding her close.
Jess smiled and closed her eyes, gripping back at him as well.
The world was going to end sooner or later and it was going to be sooner.
But she supposed that this wasn't the worst way to see to the end.
This new Star Trek ripoff comedy thing aired today called The Orville and it made me sad cuz the captain's ex wife is played by Jess' actress and the whole time I kept thinking "this is what Jess would have looked like if she hadn't died. This is what Azazel stole from Sammy." and I just have so many feels now :((
