Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-07-01 10:00 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-07-01 10:00 pm
Sam/Jess - Whiskey Lullaby
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Whiskey Lullaby
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT/PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore, Dean Winchester
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15pairings Prompt: 8. Misery Loves Company
fic_variations Prompt: life/death (#3)
Content Warning: Spoilers for Pilot
Summary: Revenge was all he could think about, and in order to get it, he couldn’t allow grief to slip into his mind.
Author's Note: Lines in italics are from the pilot. Fordragonessasmith in response to the Song Lyrics Meme, when she gave the lyrics He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger / And finally drank away her memory from "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley, and I also snagged it for the title.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural. They're owned by the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
In the weeks after Jess’s death, Dean tried several times to get Sam to focus on himself instead of the hunt. He didn’t try very hard—offered to take him out and get him drunk a few times, offering to slow things down a bit, give him a chance to grieve properly. But he refused, his train of thought focusing only on finding John and the demon, and making sure that his father knew he was on his side now. They had to get this thing back for what he had done for him. Revenge was all he could think about, and in order to get it, he couldn’t allow grief to slip into his mind.
But a few weeks in, the idea of finding John was starting to get pushed to the backburner, and Sam started to feel the weight of what had happened to him a little more. He hadn’t been sleeping to begin with, and now it was only getting worse, his mind being haunted with visions of Jess on the ceiling, her face looking down at him, and her eyes unmoving and her skin pale. After her face came the echoes of the last conversations he had with her. Phone calls, her smile, the way she used to talk to him—it all played back like a bad movie, one he loved right up until the end.
“Seriously. I’m proud of you and your gonna knock ‘em dead on Monday and you’re gonna get that full ride. I know it.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Crash and burn.”
He should be back in Stanford right now. He should be lying next to Jess, hell, maybe they’d even be engaged at this point—talking about place settings and where they’re going to rent a hall. He would have been blending in with her family and dodging questions about his own. He would have his full ride to Stanford, and be studying law and normal and happy, not stuck in a car with his brother all the time, searching for something he didn’t know if he was ever going to find. He knew that getting the demon wasn’t going to bring Jess back, just like John probably knew that killing him probably wasn’t going to bring back Mary. Yet he was doing it anyway.
He wanted to blame someone but himself. He wanted to blame Dean for showing up on his doorstep to begin with. If Dean hadn’t come and practically begged him to come with him to find John, they never would have been in this situation to begin with. He would have been there, and been able to pull Jess out of there before the demon was able to hurt her. If it wasn’t for Dean, she would be safe. Jess didn’t even want her to go—she wanted him to stay and be ready for his interview.
“What about the interview?”
“I’ll make the interview. This is only for a couple of days.”
“Sam, I mean, please, just stop for a second. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s just—you won’t even talk about your family and now you’re taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them? And with Monday coming up which is kind of a huge deal.”
“Hey, everything’s gonna be okay. I will be back in time—I promise.”
But he wasn’t back in time. Not for her.
It took him weeks, but he finally gave into the company of a good bottle of alcohol, and tried to wash the memories away. If not for that, than to just lull him to sleep for a while, a sleep without the nightmares or the visions or anything—just black. And maybe it wasn’t for the reasons that Dean originally had intended, but as he put the bottle to his lips, he knew it was a reason well worth lulling himself to sleep over.
Title: Whiskey Lullaby
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT/PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore, Dean Winchester
15pairings Prompt: 8. Misery Loves Companyfic_variations Prompt: life/death (#3)Content Warning: Spoilers for Pilot
Summary: Revenge was all he could think about, and in order to get it, he couldn’t allow grief to slip into his mind.
Author's Note: Lines in italics are from the pilot. For
dragonessasmith in response to the Song Lyrics Meme, when she gave the lyrics He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger / And finally drank away her memory from "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley, and I also snagged it for the title.Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural. They're owned by the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
In the weeks after Jess’s death, Dean tried several times to get Sam to focus on himself instead of the hunt. He didn’t try very hard—offered to take him out and get him drunk a few times, offering to slow things down a bit, give him a chance to grieve properly. But he refused, his train of thought focusing only on finding John and the demon, and making sure that his father knew he was on his side now. They had to get this thing back for what he had done for him. Revenge was all he could think about, and in order to get it, he couldn’t allow grief to slip into his mind.
But a few weeks in, the idea of finding John was starting to get pushed to the backburner, and Sam started to feel the weight of what had happened to him a little more. He hadn’t been sleeping to begin with, and now it was only getting worse, his mind being haunted with visions of Jess on the ceiling, her face looking down at him, and her eyes unmoving and her skin pale. After her face came the echoes of the last conversations he had with her. Phone calls, her smile, the way she used to talk to him—it all played back like a bad movie, one he loved right up until the end.
“Seriously. I’m proud of you and your gonna knock ‘em dead on Monday and you’re gonna get that full ride. I know it.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Crash and burn.”
He should be back in Stanford right now. He should be lying next to Jess, hell, maybe they’d even be engaged at this point—talking about place settings and where they’re going to rent a hall. He would have been blending in with her family and dodging questions about his own. He would have his full ride to Stanford, and be studying law and normal and happy, not stuck in a car with his brother all the time, searching for something he didn’t know if he was ever going to find. He knew that getting the demon wasn’t going to bring Jess back, just like John probably knew that killing him probably wasn’t going to bring back Mary. Yet he was doing it anyway.
He wanted to blame someone but himself. He wanted to blame Dean for showing up on his doorstep to begin with. If Dean hadn’t come and practically begged him to come with him to find John, they never would have been in this situation to begin with. He would have been there, and been able to pull Jess out of there before the demon was able to hurt her. If it wasn’t for Dean, she would be safe. Jess didn’t even want her to go—she wanted him to stay and be ready for his interview.
“What about the interview?”
“I’ll make the interview. This is only for a couple of days.”
“Sam, I mean, please, just stop for a second. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s just—you won’t even talk about your family and now you’re taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them? And with Monday coming up which is kind of a huge deal.”
“Hey, everything’s gonna be okay. I will be back in time—I promise.”
But he wasn’t back in time. Not for her.
It took him weeks, but he finally gave into the company of a good bottle of alcohol, and tried to wash the memories away. If not for that, than to just lull him to sleep for a while, a sleep without the nightmares or the visions or anything—just black. And maybe it wasn’t for the reasons that Dean originally had intended, but as he put the bottle to his lips, he knew it was a reason well worth lulling himself to sleep over.