Title: I saw the fields beyond the fields
Fandom: “Supernatural”/“Dark Angel”
Dedication:taniapretender , for her birthday
Prompt: Jess as an X5.
Notes: future fic for “Supernatural”; AU for “Dark Angel”. Title from Dar Williams.
She wanders into the church one chilly autumn day. It is old and gilded, drafty. But comforting, in a religious sort of way.
Comforting. She snorts delicately and sinks down onto a pew.
Somewhere in this city two of her siblings are roaming. She can feel them.
She stays at church all night, stretched out on the pew. She doesn’t sleep.
She has to put him down. He’s dangerous to all of them. He’s broken, can’t be mended. They’ve all tried.
She raises her head when her sister strides in, regal and powerful as a queen.
Max, of course. Max the strong; Max, Lydecker’s favorite.
One found, then.
She doesn’t speak to Max, doesn’t move. Max must be rusty, to not sense her. The priest talks to Max and then goes away.
And he walks in, the most beautiful of her brothers—lost, confused Ben. He briefly glances at her, but keeps going to his Lady’s altar.
Max tries to stalk him, but he whirls to face her.
She doesn’t stay to see how things play out; she already knows.
“Ben,” she calls, entering the Needle, his High Place. “I know you’re here, Ben.”
“Jess,” he says, stepping out of the shadows.
“You have to stop, Ben. You’re endangering us all.” She doesn’t want to kill him. He’s always been her favorite sibling; she loves him more than she ever has anyone else.
“I can’t, Jessie.” His voice is soft, his eyes fragile. “She needs the offering—it makes her strong.”
Jess wants to weep. Oh, Ben. “Ben, please.”
He smiles, slowly drifting closer. “I missed you, Jessie. You understand, don’t you?”
He is only a hand’s-length taller than her, his large hazel eyes full of determination. He seems so young; she’s never felt this much older than her poor, deluded brother.
“Ben,” she says gently, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You created her, remember? You made her for us.”
He flinches back, eyes narrowing. “Don’t say that, Jess.” His body tightens, jaw clenching.
“Ben,” she says sorrowfully.
He glares. “Leave me alone, Jess. I thought you understood.”
She sighs, holding her hands open at her side. She honestly doesn’t know who would win if they fought, and she doesn’t want to hurt him. Has never wanted to hurt him.
Memories ache within her, those months they spent together after the escape. He took care of her and she adored him. Still adores him. But she sees him for what he is, now. The world beyond Manticore’s walls is too much for him. So little makes sense out here.
She entreats, “Ben. You have to stop. Zack is hunting you.”
He stiffens, straightening his spine. “Why?”
She steps forward. “To kill you, Ben. Because you’re endangering us all.”
Ben stares at her, nibbling his bottom lip.
An idea comes to her, and she wonders why she hadn’t thought of it earlier. “Ben, I know a man who could help you. He…” She pauses, wondering how to explain so that Ben will listen. “He took me in, after we split up.”
Ben lowers his head. “You tracked me down to kill me, didn’t you, Jessie?”
She cannot lie to him. “Yes. But, please… come with me. Let me take you to him. Trust me that long.”
He meets her gaze; by his eyes, she knows a part of him wants to die.
“Okay,” he says, holding out a hand. “I’ve always trusted you.”
She grips his hand, pulling him close to kiss his lips. “I love you, Ben,” she whispers. Louder, she says, “He’ll help you. I know he will.”
It should have occurred to her before: if anyone can save Ben, can bring him back, it’s Sam Winchester.
Ben follows her without question, always at her back. It takes them a month to reach Kansas and he balks at the state line. It’s the one state she knows he’s never set in.
He looks down. “The Blue Lady,” he says haltingly. “She told me nomlies live here.”
She rubs his arm. “Trust me, Ben.”
He takes a deep breath and murmurs, “Okay.”
In the middle of Kansas, in an old house, lives the only other person in the world she’d unhesitatingly die for. After she and Ben had been driven apart for safety, he took her in, gave her shelter, and taught her how to live.
Jess knocks on the door, Ben clutching her hand, and knows everything will be alright now.
“It’s open!” his voice calls, so she turns the knob.
“That’s not safe!” she calls back, and chuckles when she hears a clatter.
“Jessica!” he exclaims, hurrying into the front hall. He pulls her into a hug, then swiftly pats her down for any injury.
“I’m fine, Sam,” she tells him with a long-suffering sigh.
He nods, satisfied with his search. “Of course you are.” He looks past her to Ben, and Jess watches in shock as his face pales. He falls back a step, eyes wide and mouth open.
“Dean,” he whispers.
Jess looks over her shoulder at Ben, whose face mirrors Sam’s. He steps around her, one hand outstretched, looking younger than she can ever remember.
“Dean,” Sam says again.
“Sammy,” Ben replies, sounding confused. “You’re Sammy, but didn’t I dream you?”
Sam says, “Jess, I need an explanation right now.”
He already knows most of the story, but she tells him everything again.
Ben falls asleep soon after dusk, curled up on Sam’s couch. Jess and Sam watch him for awhile and finally Sam stands. “I need to show you something,” he tells her, gently spreading a blanket over Ben. “I probably should have showed you a long time ago.”
She follows him through the house, down into the basement. In faint, flickering light, Sam kneels beside a strongbox, flicks the catch, and reverently lifts the lid. “This was my life before the Pulse, Jessica.”
He stands back up, one of the few men who’s ever towered above her. “Take your time. I’ll watch over Dean.”
She jerks her gaze from the box in time to see his face crumple in pain. “Ben, I mean. I’ll take care of Ben.”
“Sam,” she says, trepidation dancing in her belly. She does not want to look in that box.
“Please, Jessica.” He’s the only one who’s ever called her that. “You need to understand.”
His tone is identical to Ben’s, and she smoothly sinks to sit next to the box.
He goes. Jess sucks in a breath, counts to twenty, and reaches into Sam’s past.
Five hours, she sits there and stares at the pictures. Ben. Herself. With a much younger Sam.
Written on the back of one with her tucked into Sam’s arms are the words Sam and Jess, 2005. She doesn’t recognize the handwriting. Written on the back of one that has Sam and Ben are the words Dean and Sammy, 1999.