Title: It Starts With Goodbye
Characters: Dean, Sam, Jess, Bobby, OFC
Pairing: Sam/Jess, Dean/OFC
Spoilers: Set in the back end of season two (pre-finale) so anything before that is fair game.
Summary: Dean would do anything to make Sam happy but what would Sam let him give up? How far can you push brotherly love before you have to be selfish for your own sake?
Previous Chapters: Pt 1 I Pt 2 I Pt 3 I Pt 4 I Pt 5
It was near four am when Dean finally sat himself inside the Impala, fatigue making it impossible for him to stand any longer. It was cold too, biting at his flesh even through his jacket and even drinking all the beer hadn’t helped warm his blood much. He guessed that was because deep down it wasn’t only the chilly night air making him shiver slightly. He supposed he could technically go inside and get his warmer leather jacket but right now he wouldn’t step into that room for all the bourbon in Kentucky.
He’d assumed that Sam would come and get him when it was all over and so he’d allowed himself to close his eyes and rest a little even if it was fitful and disturbed sleep. He didn’t exactly know how Sam was going to sort it but he’d think of something, he’d look something up and find a way. He was good at stuff like that.
The rational part of Dean’s brain kept reminding him that she’d be fine – that people got possessed by far worse than the lost ghost of a young woman and that they came out of it okay. Besides, Izzy was Sam’s friend and his brother was way too much of a white heart to let anything happen to her because of what he himself might want.
Even so Dean couldn’t banish the niggling doubts from his mind. For some reason just the thought that he didn’t have her around, couldn’t just go up and hold or kiss her made him extremely edgy. In a way it was kind of disturbing to realise just how dependent upon her presence he’d unknowingly become but right at that moment that was the least of his worries. He just wanted his girl back, that was all.
He was only lightly asleep when Sam knocked on the window and the sudden sound startled him awake. Stretching aching and creaking muscles he opened the door and got out, rolling his stiff neck from side to side to get it moving again as he leant back against the car to take the weight off his tired and leaden legs. He felt pretty much like crap.
“You took your time,” he grumbled, any sympathy he had buried beneath a night of worry and exhaustion, “What d’you do – tell her your entire life story? Cause if I was you I would have left out that stuff about losing your trunks at that pool party when you were fifteen.”
Sam’s voice was oddly apprehensive and that instantly put Dean on edge.
“And...?” he questioned, frowning deep.
“And she knows about what happened,” Sam explained, “She knows that she’s not meant to be here.”
The slightly defensive tone in Sam’s voice would have given him away even if his words hadn’t.
“‘She knows’?” Dean repeated, almost incredulously, “You mean she’s still here?”
Sam held his hands up, calm beyond belief, obviously having expected his brother’s reaction.
“Look just don’t fly off the handle Dean, okay?”
“Don’t fly off the-“ Dean stopped for moment, attempting to hold in his temper but not quite managing it, “Godamnit Sammy! You said you were gonna sort this out.”
Sam shook his head, pretty much ignoring that as though Dean was missing the point somewhere.
“I’m still looking for a way, okay? Just do me a favour and come inside would you,” he said as though that was an explanation to everything.
Dean shook his head, firm and almost sullen.
“No, it’s okay. I already did you a favour now you go and hold up your end.”
He absolutely did not want to see her until she was herself again.
“Seriously,” Sam said, his words almost a plea, “I need your help with something.”
Then he smiled a little which looked very odd in the circumstances.
“Besides, she wants to meet you.”
“Yeah and who says I wanna meet her?” Dean bit back.
“Dean, I’m asking you to do this for me. Please.”
Damn pain the ass brother knew he had him there. Stupid puppy dog eyes and pathetic look. It was the same one he used right back when they were kids and he’d wanted ice cream but Dean had said ‘no’. Dean had always given in in the end though and this was no exception.
“Fine,” he said shortly, making his discomfort about the whole thing very clear, “Anything to get this over with quicker.”
Sam said nothing as regards to that, just followed him back to the room.
Dean stopped at the door, apprehensive, really not wanting to go in. Sam gave him a reassuring smile that almost made Dean want to punch him.
Izzy – no, she was still Jessica – was sitting on the bed and she smiled broadly at him when he entered.
Dean’s stomach near revolted, clenching hard, telling him if he didn’t already know it that this wasn’t right. Her smile was all wrong, her voice being used in the wrong way. It made his skin crawl. But he pushed the feelings down for Sam’s sake more than anything.
“Hey,” he said tightly, not sure what else he could say.
Seemingly sensing the atmosphere she stood, still smiling, holding her hand out to him in gesture he supposed was meant to break the ice. He noticed that the other palm was bandaged, hiding the wound that had allowed her in.
“We never met properly before,” she said brightly, “I’m Jess.”
Dean stared at the hand but refused to take it, the very idea sending a wave of dread right through him.
The moment was awkward but Jess slowly lowered her borrowed hand, accepting his reaction.
“So,” Dean said, calm and emotionless, somehow not wanting to give himself away in front of her, “Sam told you.”
“About me being dead?” she asked with brutal honesty, “Yeah.”
“And you believed him?”
“No,” Jess replied with a hollow laugh, “But then I saw this and well...”
She indicated her new face.
“Look,” she continued when Dean was apparently unable to comment further on that, “Sam explained to me who Izzy is. I’m really sorry this had to happen okay?”
“Yeah me too,” Dean muttered, not making it clear if he was sorry for Jess or Izzy.
There was silence for a moment and Dean couldn’t help but ask something that had been bugging him ever since they’d found themselves in this sorry mess.
“Is Izzy still there? Does she know what’s going on?”
In a way he kind of hoped that she didn’t, hoped that she was basically asleep or something and that when this was all over she would wake up with no memory of what had happened. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be trapped inside your own body whilst someone else took control. A little part of him however was oddly comforted by the idea that she may still be in there in some way though even if that was selfish and not really in her best interests.
Jess looked thoughtful for a moment and then she nodded, “Yes, I thinks she is.”
“Great,” Dean said casually, making light of the situation to hide his conflicting emotions, “Can you ask her if she’s seen my lock pick? I mean I thought I put it in my jacket pocket but it’s not there and I checked in my bag and...well you know what it’s like when you lose something, it’s always the last damn place you look and-“
“I think she’s laughing at you”, Jess interrupted with a smile.
Dean smiled a little too although it was weary and a bit grim.
“That’s my girl.”
“Look, Dean,” Sam said, seeing the perfect opportunity to bring up an issue whilst Dean seemed a little more comfortable about things at least, “Jess and I have something to ask of you.”
‘Jess and I’? He was talking like they were a damn couple and it creeped him out.
Dean saw how they both looked at him though and instantly knew what that favour was going to be.
“No,” was his firm and instinctive reply. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to enforce that – he didn’t think he’d quite reached the stage yet of punching Sam out, tying Jess down and performing an exorcism. He didn’t exactly want to deal with the aftermath of doing something like that either but surely they had to understand how he felt about this. He couldn’t believe that they’d even have the balls to ask him.
“Just twenty four hours,” Sam said hurriedly, “That’s all we’re asking for.”
“This ain’t a car or laptop or something we’re talking about here, Sammy,” he replied tightly, “You can’t just borrow someone’s body for a day. That’s not how it works.”
“Not normal no, but these aren’t normal circumstances,” Sam reasoned, “Besides, Izzy’s fine with it.”
Dean paused a moment, looking puzzled, a bit thrown by that.
“She is?” he questioned, genuinely taken aback by the idea. He knew that in her situation he wouldn’t be fine with the suggestion at all.
“Yes,” Jess piped up, “She understands.”
“Well that’s nice for her,” Dean spat back, “But the answer’s still ‘no’.”
He didn’t care what she thought, this wasn’t good for her. Or him. Besides, how did they know that that was what she really wanted? They only had Jess’s word to go on and since the alternative for her was re-death then it hardly seemed unlikely that she might lie in order to stick around a little longer. Sam wasn’t exactly the most unbiased opinion either.
“Dean,” Sam said softly, coming to stand right in front of his brother, giving Dean’s gaze no place to look but at him, “We just want one day, that’s all, just a chance to say goodbye. Is that too much to ask? Izzy won’t be hurt and by this time tomorrow everything will be back to normal.”
Yeah and that’s what he’d said about that morning too.
But Dean couldn’t ignore the look on Sam’s face nor the pleading in his eyes. He knew his brother was hurting, knew that this was hard on him. He couldn’t ignore that even if he wanted to. Maybe if this helped ease that pain a little it would be worth it. He and Izzy had the rest of their lives if they so wished. All Sam was asking for was a day. And maybe Izzy really was okay with it. She cared about Sam. It wasn’t beyond reason to think that she’d be willing to do this for him.
“Fine,” he eventually agreed with a huff that he hoped showed them that he was doing this under duress, “Twenty four hours, that’s all.”
“Thanks man,” Sam muttered gratefully, patting him on the shoulder.
Jess grinned widely and hurried up to them. Caught in the moment she went to kiss Dean on the cheek in thanks but he backed up sharply like she was holding a hot poker to his face.
“Sorry,” she whispered, looking suitably embarrassed at her momentary lack of thought.
Dean recovered himself well.
“Just one proviso,” he said, pointing a finger at Sam, “That body is just a loan and you do not lay so much as a finger on it, understand? That is not your girlfriend.”
“Dean...” Sam said, his face screwing up at the idea. Like he would even consider it.
“Swear,” Dean ordered, being more protective than distrusting.
“Scout’s honour,” Sam said with a small smile, “I’ll treat her like a little sister. Who’s a nun.”
“We don’t have a little sister, you weren’t a Scout and nun’s freak you out.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”