pictureofsirgalahad

[pictureofsirgalahad]

feels like something else, 1.7k

found this little "what if amara brought jess back instead of mary?" piece that was originally going to be part of a much bigger au/story i don't know if i'll ever finish writing, but it works like this, so i'm posting it here as a stand-alone!

When Jess wakes up, she’s flat on her back in the middle of a— park? She feels the grass prick under her bare legs, her open hands. She instinctively plucks a few blades as she makes a fist, tests her body. It doesn’t feel right, but she’s got control of it. She sits up, and a halo of pressure-pain wraps around her temples so tightly she can only gasp as her vision whites out and fades back in in patches as the headache ebbs to a bearable pulse. She feels grass under the backs of her thighs, and glances down — a long white nightgown that definitely didn’t come from her dresser hiked up around her hips, and it looks like there’s a long rip along the stomach. 

Jess isn’t much of a partier, but she’s no stranger to rough nights. Time to play catch up. She remembers— what does she remember? Writing a note for Sam, trying not to let her worry about him missing his interview bleed through the ink onto the cookies below. A knock on the door — her headache pulses darkly and she groans, surprised at how feeble her own voice sounds. Brady at the door. That might explain the bender. Her and Sam, they’ve been trying to be a good influence on Brady since the Thanksgiving he came back all strung out, the pressures of med school bending the support beams in his head in a way Jess could feel an echo of in her own mind, next to the pity. But influence goes both ways, and Brady has this wild-eyed way about him lately that’s scary and compelling all at once. Sam will get it, when she calls him. He’ll think her old lady nightgown is funny when he comes to pick her up, once she finds her phone. Jess glances around for her Blackberry, shooting a quick prayer to God that she didn’t lose it or bust it again, because her Dad already swore he wasn’t buying her a third and there is not room in her budget for a replacement, but instead finds a man standing at her feet, staring at her in a sort of blank panic. When they make eye contact, he says, gruffly, “What are you?”

It’s a weird question, and he’s angry, and Jess is suddenly keenly aware that she’s an under-dressed college girl waking up alone in a park at night. Her heart speeds up, but she straightens her spine and thinks about trail guides telling her to make herself big if she ever sees a bear along the mountains. Something in her gut tells her the danger she’s in is animalistic in nature rather than after school special. “I don’t know you,” she says, projecting her voice. “Please go away.” 

The man’s features furrow. Confusion beating out anger, if just for a second. Jess looks at him, really looks. He looks— Jess tries not to let the wince of her headache pulsing outwards show on her face, but she thinks he looks uncannily like Sam’s brother. The one who showed up two nights ago (three? four? How long has it been?) and pulled Sam away, leaving a sinking, horrified feeling in her gut in his wake. Dean? But Dean was barely older than they were, in clothes too big for him and a cocky smile. This guy’s in his 40s, easy, in a worn out plaid shirt and no leather jacket, and he looks stern where Dean had been playful. 

So this must be— Sam’s dad, then. It doesn’t make Jess feel any better, not with what little she’s heard about him, except for she thinks it means she has a way to contact Sam even if her Blackberry’s dropped in a fountain somewhere, or in Brady’s pocket at whatever bar he’s waking up slumped over. “Mr. Winchester?” she tries, and the man’s face breaks open in shock. 

“What are you?” he says, and he’s reaching down, grabbing her by the shoulders, yanking her to her feet. Jess stumbles, and bites back the sudden urge to start bawling. Jess thinks Sam’s dad might be the kind of guy who feels powerful when girls cry, and she won’t ever give those guys an inch. Jess vows to never tell Sam about the way his dad just touched her.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m your son’s girlfriend,” she starts, proud of how her voice doesn’t waver, and the man lets go of her shoulders so suddenly Jess stumbles backwards again. She won’t let herself react to that either. “Please, can you call him? I don’t have my phone. He’s with his brother.”

“My— son?” he repeats, eyes wide and starting to creep up to her level of panic. 

“Sam,” she says, slowly. Sam’s never said so much about his dad, but Jess had gotten the impression he was a drinker, although she didn’t think it was this bad — show up in the middle of the night to harass your estranged son and his girlfriend but still forget his name bad. Shows what she knows. 

“Sam’s my brother,” the man says, and that can’t be right. Jess’ head throbs with the worst wave of pain she’s felt yet, and she feels her knees go weak. She does her best to lock them and her facial expression both. “And he doesn’t have—” The man stops himself short, taking in Jess’ appearance for the first time all night. She resists the urge to cover herself up, and feels silly about it — the nightgown is already more modest than anything else she owns. “Are you… Jessica?”

“You can’t be Dean,” she says instead of answering, but now that she looks at him closer, she can tell he’s not as old as she thought he was — his features are severe like he should be, and he’s definitely at least a decade older than he was two nights ago, but he’s not old enough to be Sam’s dad. “Dean’s, like, 25,” she adds. “He was just here picking Sam up.” 

“Jessica,” Can’t-be-Dean says like he wasn’t listening, and Jess thinks he probably wasn’t. “What’s the last thing you remember? Really remember?” he asks, and there’s suspicion in his voice, which Jess thinks is entirely unfair. 

“I remember—” Jess starts, about to say ‘opening the door for Brady,’ until her mind jumps forward from that memory. Brady grabbing her head and slamming it back against the wall. Brady grabbing a kitchen knife, digging it into her stomach so fast she could barely even feel it. Brady’s eyes, looking all black in the light, and then — she had shut her eyes, sure she was dead, but had eventually opened them to a new sight. She had been — above, somewhere, looking down. Her leg had hurt, a sharp pain right at her knee that faded into a numb nothing below it, and her stomach had hurt, and Sam was lying down below her, eyes shut. She had opened her mouth to say something, or just to cry, but no sound came out. 

Sam had opened his eyes anyway. 

Jess gasps, a ragged, animal sound she’s never heard herself make before. Can’t-be-Dean reaches out to steady her, but she’s falling forward faster than he can manage, dry-heaving onto the grass below. She lands roughly on her knees, which she notices in the back of her mind don’t hurt anymore, and neither does her stomach. “What’s going on? Where’s Sam?” 

Can’t-be-Dean looks down at her, mouth set in a grim line. “There’s some things I need to do first, some tests,” he tells her, pulling a silver blade out from his pocket, and Jess would be scared if she thought she could add any more fear to her current state without exploding, “and then I’ll take you to him. There’s a lot we need to catch you up on.” 

“Where’s Sam?” Jess repeats again, but when can’t-be-Dean reaches for her hand, she gives it to him. She didn’t expect him to pull her up to her feet, but she didn’t expect him to cut a line down her palm with the knife in his other hand either, and she lets out the scream she’s been holding in the whole time. “You bastard,” she shrieks, and she’s yelling at him, at Brady, at the memory of Sam with his eyes shut on the bed below her. “You total fucking bastard,” she screams again, standing up, and the cut on her palm barely hurts, but there’s blood, and there had been blood in that memory — dripping onto Sam’s head, coming from her — and that alone is enough to fire her into action, reeling her hand back and slapping him hard across the cheek, the smack of it ringing out in the night silence. There’s a bloody smear where her hand had made contact, and can’t-be-Dean is staring at her with wide eyes and — the cocky smile she remembered from a few nights ago, de-aging him immediately, and suddenly Jess knows deep in her bones that this is Dean. This is Dean, and something is very wrong. 

“Whoa,” Dean says, grinning wide. “I can see why he liked you.”

There’s a lot about this day that’s hurt Jess, but for some reason, Dean’s use of past tense is the worst. “I want to see Sam,” she says, clutching her arms around her waist. “Take me to Sam right now.” 

Dean’s smile fades, and he looks severe again. Jess wonders if he does look like his dad after all. “Alright,” he says coolly. “You’re the boss.” 

Jess nods firmly, following him down the path of the park to where an old black car is parked. She doesn’t want to get in with him, but she doesn’t know what else to do. 

The ride is long, and silent, and Jess spends it growing a dreadful sinking feeling in her stomach. Sam always teases her about her ‘bad feelings,’ calling her psychic with a wry little grin like it was an inside joke she was outside of, and Jess privately thinks maybe he was right. She had a bad feeling about him leaving with Dean, and she had a bad feeling before Brady knocked on her door, and she has a bad feeling now. 

Dean keeps looking at her out of the side of his eyes, and Jess gets the feeling he wishes she was someone else. Jess wishes she was, too. 

#AAAAAA

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Top sassy sam moments

[pictureofsirgalahad]

hey did anyone try the violence as a neverending cycle i heard the violence as a neverending cycle was good

#THE LOOP

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Every episode of supernatural I watch one of them is saying “we should Go and Hunt Monsters on The Road” and the other is saying “are you sure? What about that Recent Traumatic Event?” And then the first one goes “what would make me feel better is to Hunt, and Kill Monsters, on The Road”

[pictureofsirgalahad]

I enjoy these moments both for Sam’s terrible lies and for the insight they give into what Sam thinks Dean thinks Sam likes.

[pictureofsirgalahad]

hang on fucking. au where john kills dean and gets sam from stanford. dean went on a hunting trip and hasnt been home in a few days. obviously the conclusion of this is john demon dealing for dean to come back to life.

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Stackednatural- 252/327

The British Invasion (12x17) April 6th, 2017

[pictureofsirgalahad]

It's her life.

Supernatural S12E16 Ladies Drink Free

#i will always reblog the ladies drink free it’s her life #god i love how tired he is

[pictureofsirgalahad]

destiel versus sam winchester..

#YES

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Stackednatural- 182/327

The Purge (9x13) February 4th, 2014

#tell him!!

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Guess my mind is a prison and I’m never gonna get out

mind is a prison, alec benjamin // sam

for @suncaptor‘s milestone event day 1: Sam & Trauma, Autonomy, and/or OCD

#this is the one i was looking for!! #mind is a prison web weaving

[pictureofsirgalahad]

Cain by José Saramago//@iscariotes //Spn 2x22 All Hell Breaks Loose:Part Two//Cain by José Saramago//Spn 4x16//The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller//After Abel, Dante Émile//Spn 6x10 Caged Heat//The Orphan and It's Relations by Elizabeth Robinson

#holy shit??

[pictureofsirgalahad]

sam winchester // law of holes

#AAA #tw lucifer

[pictureofsirgalahad]

sam winchester + being loved

[pictureofsirgalahad]

I wanna be safe.

Supernatural S12E12 Stuck in the Middle (With You) S5E13 The Song Remains the Same

#god.

[pictureofsirgalahad]

He had yellow eyes.

Supernatural S12E12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

[pictureofsirgalahad]

happy birthday jessica moore!!

My birthday girl!! i don’t know who everyone else is talking about