A/N: Thank you lovelies for reading my little fics. I hope you enjoyed them! Tell me what you think in a review? Pretty please? And let me know if you want to see any more Sam/Jess fics, or any other Supernatural topics, for that matter.
And of course, SPN is Kripke's, and I am merely a devoted follower. ;)
The last time she saw him was, she realizes, far too brief and not nearly sweet enough. Even as she looks into black eyes, she can feel Sam's breathing beside her as if he is truly in the room with her, and when the demon (for he tells her he is such, and she cannot disbelieve him) tells her that she is going to die, there is no plummeting rush of terror, because Sam's hands are on her face. She asks him why, and he smiles, because he enjoys this, because her torment is his pleasure, before pinning her to the wall without a single movement. He tells her that she stands in his way, that it is because her beloved (and he spits the word like poison) is of use to him, and that she cannot hold him back.
She says, "Sam," and the pain begins, across her stomach, but she cannot scream. The demon tells her that Sam loves her, that he is going to propose to her, and that her death will ruin any chance of his ever finding happiness. (Somewhere in the back of her mind she is screaming, her feet have left the floor, but Sam says sh, that he loves her) He tells her that Sam will blame himself for her murder, be wracked and ruined with guilt for the rest of his life (until his use is fulfilled and he dies lonely and destroyed) and that pain rips from her throat in one sharp NO, but the demon laughs.
She will be the instrument that breaks him. And she will bring about destruction, and Sam will not be here to save her.
But she can feel the kiss of Sam Winchester and she knows that it is she who will hold him back from this hell, and so she meets the black eyes of the demon (looks down on him, watches her blood redden the floor), and says that he will burn.
Close your eyes, Sam whispers, and she does as the agony in her belly rakes and crawls through the rest of her limbs.
The last thing she sees is the image of his face and the golden fields in his voice, the fireflies in his touch... And it's strange. As fires blossom around her and she walks into those fields, she cannot feel the pain.