Crash and Burn, a Supernatural fanfic

All is disclaimed.

Yeah, another one. I’m on a roll lately.

Inspired by those two lines in the "Pilot" episode.

This is AU; speculation as I’ve only seen up to “Hell House” (but I have read a few spoilers … hold up hands, yes I’m addicted/obsessed – but not enough to know anything about the Demon); pretty random; Jess’s character is probably off since we only saw her for that one episode, and I haven’t seen it in, oh, ages.

Reviews yes please; constructive criticism where needed; flames to be filed away under ‘poops and giggles’.

19 May 06 - Edited, some things changed and little bits added 'cause hey I felt like it.

Crash and Burn.

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.”

For the longest time, Jess couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t feel anything – the pain and agony had since faded, and there was nothing.

Memories came in odd batches. She couldn’t remember much of her last night alive – except the man, the thing, who had come and whispered dark, twisted words that she could never grasp – and fear and the horror as she was lifted, pinned mercilessly, trying to scream but never able to – and then came the flames.

She tries to find her way.

She tries to reach her family – her mom and her dad, her brother and sister, even her grandmother – hoping that they can feel her, see her. She’s never able to find them, though.

She misses them, and realises she never said goodbye to them, and will never be able to, either.

Logically she knows this should apply to Sam too, but she still tries to reach him. She’s surprised when she feels something, hears faint voices, sees blurry scenes – but then she knows she shouldn’t be surprised that it was Sam that made her feel again.

It takes a while, everything unfolding in front of her. She doesn't understand a lot of it, not the why or especially the how because these sort of things aren't supposed to exist - but she knows that's just ignorant thinking, or maybe denial, because who wants to admit these sort of things?

Really, it's enough to give you nightmares.

Jess starts to remember. Mostly little things, things about her boyfriend that struck her as a little odd when she was alive but became crystal clear in death.

Love at first sight – doesn’t exist, she had always said. But she reckons that the moment she saw Sam, the moment she stepped into that restaurant where he worked with her friends laughing and joking around her, she knew on some level he was going to make her love him.

And she'd been right.

He would sit and listen to her for hours – listen to her talk about her problems or what was on her mind and then give her a solution in one or two sentences that made the whole thing seem ridiculously simple.

It was the lawyer in him, she used to think.

Now she knows it was the hunter.

She tried not to push the issue of his family, because of the little she had gleaned from him she knew that his mother died when he was young (oh, baby) and he and his brother were raised by their father – and he didn’t like to talk about it much.

She stopped asking about the scars on his skin – just accidents, he used to say, I was a clumsy kid. For a while she thought he had been abused growing up, but his personality didn’t fit that of an mistreated child; he seemed to carry an innate quiet confidence, he was independent and strong, and was just outgoing enough to make him Sam – the kind of qualities you wouldn’t see on someone who had been physically abused.

So she ruled out the idea of an abusive father and let the issue of the scars and marks drop – even though each of them told a story, something that made up who Sam was, something she doubted she’d ever be let in on.

But the scars were just the tip of the iceberg, and Jess would never have even fathomed the darkness of the water below.

She’d never seen him get violent before. Hell, she’d never even know him to raise his voice before. He’d never let himself get riled up or lose his temper – never that she had seen. The closest she’d ever come to seeing Sam in a fight was when they’d caught a bus into San Francisco, to visit her sister’s new place, and found themselves in the wrong end of town with a shaking punk with a gun in the way. She’d been scared out of her mind when the kid pulled a revolver from his jacket and demanded their wallets, but Sam had practically smirked down the barrel, shifted himself in front of Jess and then knocked the kid out in two swift movements.

Ever wonder why your boy’s so good at killing, little girl? That Thing had whispered as she backed away, trying to put as much space between her and those golden eyes as she could.

“What?” she’d replied, her voice shaking and almost hysterical, “Sam?” – but wishing, oh god, Sam please walk through the door right now because he’d know what to do, he’d keep her safe like he’d kept her safe from that mugger all those months ago.

The Thing had looked …proud. It looked – predatory. And Jess had realised –

– whatever this Thing was –

– whatever this Thing wanted –

– It was after Sam. It was after Sam, with his lopsided grin that made her go weak at the knees. Sam who was intelligent but never big-headed, Sam whose odd sense of humour would catch her off guard and make her laugh at the most random of moments, Sam who’s green eyes she could get lost in forever – Sam who made her feel like there was nothing else in the world that she needed –

And in that moment she wished Sam was as far, far away from here as he could be, and oh god Sam don’t walk through that door it’s after you –

“Stay away from him.” Jess told the Thing, “You stay the hell away from him.” – and the Thing laughed.

He’s not yours, you know, It said, as it slashed her open, he was never yours.

Sacrifce, she thought afterwards, was such a funny thing.

Never in her life had she entertained the thought that she would give her life so someone she loved could carry on, to do greater things then she could ever hope to achieve, but when the moment came she didn't even think twice about it.

“What would I do without you?” He had asked on their last night together.

She'd simply smiled and replied, “Crash and burn.”

When she tried to reach Sam, she saw and she understood.

She understood why he never talked about his family – because it was so hard to explain.

She saw why he left – but she saw why he went back.

She saw what he did, what he was – and she knew why It wanted him so badly.

Dean would never let that happen, though. And she knew she hadn’t died in vain.

She didn’t watch him all the time, mostly because she couldn’t, she didn’t quite know how this whole guardian-angel-watching-over-you thing worked, and partly because she couldn’t betray his privacy like that.

She just saw flashes of him, heard his voice every so often.

She saw him in danger almost all the time. From ghosts or monsters – and she still couldn’t believe he threw himself in the path of these things again and again. She tried to warn him if he ever got into a nasty scrape, but he never heard her voice. He only heard his own, or his brother’s.

Jess should know by now that there’s not a lot in the way of protection that she can offer him, especially as Dean’s so much better at it then she is – but she’ll give it all the same, because she loves him too much not to.

… with sickening anticipation, she watched the drip, drip of red on his forehead – he opened his eyes and his face contorted in horror and he sucked a breath, yelling, “No – Jess!” before the flames exploded around her and he disappeared from her view …

… Sam. Oh, Sam, baby.

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.”

And she knew Dean’d never let him crash and burn, either. She was grateful to him for that, because she couldn't reach Sam anymore - doubted she ever really could -couldn't protect him, but that didn't matter because that wasn't her job. Jess knew that so long as Sam and his brothersaw with their eyes and not their heads then there was hope for so many people who had none; and she knew that so long as they kept holding each other up, kept the other upright and safe and sane, kept on this long road of theirs, then Sam had a reason to live and she'd had a reason to die.

Return to Top