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2022-08-04
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out, damned spot.

Summary:

"Your powers," Jess smiled. "You've been having dreams about this discussion for months, haven't you?"

Sam couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words to describe the indignant burning in his blood. Jess' words were true, but he had never thought the dream would be real. He thought it was just that. A dream. A nightmare.

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Work Text:

Sam Winchester knew all about the demons that go bump in the night. He was raised on the belief that they were evil, and everything touched by monsters was evil.

But there was an evil in humanity, too.

Sam’s decision to leave the hunting life behind was a gradual one. He watched his brother become more twisted by his father’s strict hand, more gaunt by the sometimes-not-so-legal ways of procuring enough money to feed three mouths. He watched his father's jaw become more relaxed as he slurs the brothers' names together, hacking and heaving into a toilet bowl the next morning, a sob for their dead mother curling from his mouth.

Sam couldn't remember a mother's touch, barely knew Mary. But the ghost of her still clung to everything the brothers owned. Sometimes Sam swore he could see a figure watching them, wisps of blonde hair shimmering in the rearview. But when he looked back, everything was washed out.

Until he met Jessica Moore.

She was everything he had heard about through whispered prayers to absent gods, through sun-faded photographs crinkled from hiding in pockets, through tear-stained letters John thought he'd hidden in the trunk of their car.

"Did you get lost on the road to Heaven?" Sam asked one night, when they were celebrating their first night living together, drunk on cheap red wine, high on love and weed. Jess smiled, eyes shining bright. The fairy lights she'd hung up around their bedroom sparkled. "I think you stole the stars." He confessed quietly into the golden ribbons of her hair. Jess had laughed sweetly before pressing her wine-stained lips to his.

"Are you calling me an angel, Sam?"

Sam had never met an angel before, but he knew, in his heart of hearts, they had to exist. She had to be at least marginally aligned to angels, whether that meant she was to become one once she was laid to rest, or something else entirely.

As it turned out, his introduction to Jess hadn't been entirely founded in a seating arrangement set at the beginning of freshman year. There was an element of something more .

Sam found that out when he decided, the night after Dean dropped him back home, to tell Jess everything. As soon as he quietly walked into the house, he found his girl curled up in his old Stanford hoodie, half asleep on the couch.

"Hey, sweetheart," She had mumbled gently, still blinking adamantly against the sleep trying to take hold. Sam kissed her softly, slowly, and intently. Jess raised an eyebrow when they broke apart. "Okay, what's up? You usually don't kiss me like that unless you have something you need to tell me,"

"How did I get so lucky?" Sam whispered, as though not to disturb the shadows dancing around the dim TV light of their loungeroom.

"Alright, out with it." Jess pulled him onto the couch with her, sitting up straight and successfully blinking away her previous sleepiness.

No time like the present. But how to start?

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," He exhaled slowly.

"O-kay, you're not about to confess to a serious crime, are you?" She cracked a smile, but when Sam didn't smile back, Jess wavered. "No more interruptions. Tell me everything."

And so he did. Everything, from the moment his mother died in the fire, his brother pulling him out, what his father suspects killed their mother, and their life of hunting from then on. He confessed his crimes of impersonating law enforcement, credit card fraud, grave desecration, arson, among other more personal grievances surrounding his need to escape the haunted look in his father's eyes whenever Sam would ask questions. Jess remained silent, only making sounds of mild surprise every so often.

"So?" Sam breathed out. He watched as Jess calculated everything, and he waited for the other shoe to drop, the "Oh, he's being serious, he believes in this monster bullshit, he needs severe therapy" scared smile of a sudden stranger. But this was Jess. This was Jess. He had to believe their love was founded in something strong enough to withstand such a massive secret.

"Thankyou for being honest with me, Sam," Jess took his hands, and squeezed them gently. "I…" She hesitated. "I'm afraid I hadn't been entirely honest myself."

That's a surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jess took in a deep breath. "I knew."

The room went quieter than the motel rooms Sam and Dean used to stay in, when someone said something wrong to John. When their father was drunk, he was known to miss. But stone-cold sober? Sam had seen his brother nurse bruises that should've required medical attention.

"You knew?" He couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief. "Are you a hunter too? Were you a part of the life?" He supposed if he could hide it well enough, surely someone else could too.

"Not exactly," She dropped her gaze, staring at their hands. "I was told I needed to meet you. I was sent here by your father."

"Dad? You know my dad?" Sam frowned. Jess nodded and gave his hands a squeeze.

"Years ago now. I had just gotten out of high school, and he called me up. Told me I had a particular set of skills that would one day be useful, and told me to introduce myself to you," She smiled weakly. "Never meant to become quite so attached, but he'd never said don't do that either."

"What type of skills?" Sam felt a prickle at the back of his neck, but he ignored it. This was Jess. This was Jess.

"Some children are born human, some are promised to those stronger than humanity, some are fed demon blood to belong to a better world," Jess gave Sam a serene smile. "Do you promise not to hurt me?" Sam frowned.

"I promise."

Jess blinked and Sam's heart stopped beating. Instead of the starry eyes Sam had fallen in love with, Jess was staring back at him with two demonic black eyes.

"I will never hurt you." Jess blinked her eyes back to normal, fingers gently running over Sam's sweating hands in an act of comfort. Everything around Sam had gone cold. "Sweetheart, I'm here to help you."

"Help me with what?" He said stiffly.

"Your powers," Jess smiled. "You've been having dreams about this discussion for months, haven't you?"

Sam couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words to describe the indignant burning in his blood. Jess' words were true, but he had never thought the dream would be real. He thought it was just that. A dream. A nightmare.

"I can help you with these powers, Sam. You were gifted them by demon blood," She scratched a sharp nail along her left forearm. Sam shuddered. "And only demon blood will help. You'll get headaches, fevers, you'll black out…but if you drink, you'll get stronger. We can help your brother, and you can finally see your father again," She threaded her fingers into Sam's hair. "It's you and me, baby. We can do this. Let me look after you."

The blood splashed over her California sun skin, and Sam ached. He ached for the knowledge of what the feel of her would be like on his tongue. He ached for the understanding of his powers, for them to grow stronger and more easily controlled. But most of all, he ached for the fear to disappear.

He wanted to be strong enough to never have to be afraid anymore.

"Go on, Sam," Jess brought the fresh cut up to his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too." The words came out automatically. This is Jess. This is Jess. This is Jess. What else was he going to say back? Sure, she lied to him, but so did he. And he'd been so starved for affection until she came along. Sam snaked his tongue out to wet his lips, a nervous tic, and it served as his first communion. He swallowed the tiny droplet of blood, and it was enough to drown out the last of his fear.

Sam Winchester pressed his lips onto Jessica Moore's bleeding forearm, and drank.

"Yes," Jess gasped, eyes flickered black. "Oh, baby. Your father will be so happy, so so so proud of you. Just as I am." She pressed her warm lips to Sam's forehead. The boy frowned, pulling back.

"How do you know John?" He asked, before Jess brought her wrist back and Sam was distracted again, drinking down the only love he ever had for himself. He didn't hear Jess' answer. Even if he had, it wouldn't have stopped him. The power was already too great, the hunger already too deep.

"Azazel is the one who summoned me for you. He's my father as well, but you're his special boy, baby. There are others, but you're his favourite, Sam. You're going to be the one to lead his army to the gates of Hell, you're going to rescue our God from his jail cell, you're going to rule the entire world, baby. You're going to be stronger than any demon, better than any monster. My baby, my darling. You are Azazel's Boy King."