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Language:
English
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Published:
2019-06-27
Completed:
2019-06-27
Words:
2,997
Chapters:
4/4
Comments:
18
Kudos:
82
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576

Oblivion

Summary:

Set between seasons 13 and 14. Jack worries about Sam when he leaves the bunker in the middle of the night. Sam tries to process his grief over losing Dean.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Jack wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He had been sleeping pretty soundly recently. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he heard Sam’s bedroom door shut. Sam was awake. That must have woken Jack up. He checked his phone. It was one in the morning. He could hear Sam’s footsteps walking away. So Sam hadn’t just returned to his room. Jack sat up and grabbed a pair of socks off the floor where he had thrown them. He hated having cold feet. He quickly slipped the socks on and padded out of his room. He found Sam in the war room, about to head up the stairs out of the bunker.

“Sam?” Jack said.

Sam started a little. He turned to Jack. “Oh, sorry, Jack. Did I wake you?”

Jack titled his head as he regarded Sam. His face looked different to Jack. Sam’s eyes seemed distant and desperate, though his voice was still gentle.

“It’s okay,” Jack said. “Where are you going?”

Sam hesitated. “I’m just gonna go for a run. I’ll be right back.”

Jack studied Sam for a moment. Why was the look on Sam’s face making Jack’s stomach hurt? Maybe he should go with Sam. Just to make sure everything was okay. He was so tired and he really didn’t think he could run. But at least if he was there, he would know Sam was fine.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Jack asked, hoping his dread wasn’t showing in his eyes.

Sam gave a tiny smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes. There was still something there that was unnerving Jack.

“No,” Sam said, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Jack. Don’t worry. You should go back to sleep.”

The idea of Sam leaving alone was making Jack’s stomachache worse. But he nodded anyway.

Sam patted Jack’s neck absently before heading up the stairs and out of the bunker. Only then did Jack realize Sam hadn’t brought anything with him. Jack chewed his lip as he wandered back to his room. He knew he wasn’t going back to sleep now.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Sam had instinctively gone to the Impala and driven away from the bunker. He didn’t really know where he was going. But he soon found himself at a nearby lake he and Dean had visited once in between cases.

Sam had woken up from another nightmare less than an hour after he had gone to bed. He honestly couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be tired. But this nightmare had been particularly bad. Sam had woken up soaked in sweat. There had been tears in his eyes. It was about Dean. It always was. Sam tried so hard not to think about the possibility of not being able to save his brother. The best he could do to keep from having an anxiety attack was to keep himself distracted. But he couldn’t stop the nightmares.

Sam got out of the car and started walking. He had told Jack he was going for a run. Maybe he should. He hoped Jack had gone back to sleep. Sam felt guilty for spending so little time with him recently. He needed to check in with him, to see if he was alright. Especially with all of the changes recently.

Sam started running. He picked up his speed quickly, not easing into it like he normally would. He just wanted to run. To feel the world rushing by him. He needed to think. Exercise always helped him think. He soon lost track of how long he had been running. The terrain wasn’t great, but Sam didn’t care. He kept going long after his legs began to protest his random burst of exercise in the middle of the night.

Sam longed to sink into oblivion. He was tired of fighting, tired of thinking, tired of feeling. He just wanted to stop hurting. But he wouldn’t give up. That was as true as the ache in Sam’s lungs. As long as there was a chance that Dean was alive, Sam wouldn’t stop. The other hunters, Bobby, Mary, Jack, they all kept him from spending his days completely focused on the search for Dean. Sometimes Sam found himself resenting them for that, but mostly he was grateful. He needed to not be broken if they found Michael. He needed to be strong for Dean. If he didn’t feel so much responsibility for everyone in the bunker, Sam would have collapsed in on himself by now - imploded into a pile of agony and grief, fear and loneliness. Even now, he felt himself crumbling a little on the inside.

Sam pumped his legs impossibly faster, ignoring the ache in his muscles. The pounding of his feet on the ground matched the solid weight and pain of his thoughts.

If they weren’t able to save Dean, if Michael had killed him, there would be nothing left of Sam. Nothing.

Trees rushed by on either side of Sam - he paid them no mind. Moisture streamed across his face. Sam wasn’t sure if there were tears mixing with the sweat. He was too tangled in his mind.

He couldn’t lose Dean. Not again. Not like this. Sam needed to be strong for Mary. For Jack. That boy deserved to be cared for. He deserved to know that he was loved. Jack should be safe. But Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to take care of him if he lost Dean. Not like he should. Not like Jack deserved.

Sam’s legs began to lose their rhythm, stuttering steps, kicking up dirt. His thoughts began to scramble.

Save Dean. Save Jack. Dean was dying? Dean was dead. No. Save Dean. Save Jack. Jack was dying? Dean was dead.

Sam stumbled. He lurched forward. In a heartbeat, Sam hit the ground hard, his upper body skidding through the dirt. He hadn’t even put his hands out to catch himself. It didn’t matter. Sam tried to catch his breath. He noticed blood coming from scrapes on his arms, but he ignored it. He was trying to pick up the tattered threads of his thoughts. All he could think was that he was so tired.

After a few minutes of simply lying in the dirt, Sam dragged himself to his feet. He wondered absently how far he was from the Impala. He needed to get back home before anyone at the bunker woke up.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Jack yawned and blinked away the excess moisture in his eyes. According to the clock on his laptop, it was four in the morning. Sam still wasn’t back yet. Sam had told Jack to go back to sleep when he left, but Jack had refused. If Sam was awake, Jack could stay awake too. He had chosen to sit in the library to be sure he would hear Sam come back to the bunker. Jack didn’t know where Sam had gone and he felt an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach every time he remembered the look on Sam’s face as he had said, “I’m fine, Jack. Don’t worry.” Of course Sam would be okay. Jack knew that. Nothing could hurt Sam. But still, something about the way Sam’s eyes had been steely and cold and the way he had his jaw set made Jack uneasy. He would rather know right away when Sam was home safe. That was all.

Jack had opened and closed Netflix several times in the past three hours. He was way too tired to focus on any shows. Every time he felt himself dozing off, he would stand and walk around the perimeter of the library, dragging his fingers across the backs of the books. He liked the texture of the hardback covers and he liked the feeling of his fingers going thump, thump from one book onto the next if one was pushed farther back on the shelf.

But now he was afraid nothing could keep him awake. It was so frustrating to be human. He used to be able to stay awake most of the night easily. Now he was always tired. Especially since he spent the days training.

With another yawn, Jack pulled up YouTube on his laptop and clicked on a video about how to pick a lock. He had watched several videos like this already, but he hadn’t perfected the technique yet. As the voice-over on the video droned on about the designs of different kinds of locks, Jack felt his head falling forward, eyelids slipping shut. Well, maybe he could doze for just a second. The bunker door opening would definitely wake him up and Sam would never have to know that Jack fell asleep waiting for him. And Jack would still know right away when Sam came home and then they could both sleep and Jack’s stomach wouldn’t hurt anymore and maybe Sam’s eyes would look softer.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Sam opened the bunker’s door as quietly as possible but the heavy door still creaked loud enough to make him flinch. Sam was planning to head straight to the shower, but he noticed a light in the library. He headed towards the room and soon realized the glow was from a laptop. In front of the laptop was Jack, sitting in one of the chairs, head resting on his arms which were folded on the table. He was clearly sound asleep, mouth slightly open, breath whistling softly. Sam sat in the chair next to Jack with a sigh. He considered Jack in silence. Had he stayed up waiting for Sam? Of course he had. Sam shook his head. He should have stayed to make sure Jack went to bed. He really wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve a kid like this.

Sam regretted sitting down. His body was really going to protest when he tried to stand back up. Sam wanted to mimic Jack and sleep with his head on the table. But he could see that the way Jack’s neck was bent would leave an ache. With a grunt, Sam leaned forward and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The boy didn’t stir other than a lock of his hair slipping down onto his forehead. Sam smiled in spite of himself.

“Jack?” Sam kept his voice quiet. He gave Jack’s shoulder a gentle shake.

Jack’s eyes opened and he sat up grudgingly. He blinked owlishly, looking at Sam with bleary eyes. “Sam?” he mumbled. His eyes shot wide open. “Oh, Sam! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was gonna…” Jack’s voice trailed off as his gaze traveled over Sam’s frame.

Sam shifted under Jack’s scrutiny. He glanced down at himself to see what Jack was seeing. His long-sleeved tee was shredded in chunks on his arms, and he knew there was more damage on his back. Underneath the torn fabric was a mix of dried and fresh blood, some of it glistening in the glow of the laptop screen. He was covered with dirt and there were holes torn in his jeans as well. Sam didn’t even want to think about how his face must look.

“Uh, sorry,” Sam said. “I was gonna clean up.”

Jack placed a hand gently on Sam’s arm, carefully avoiding any injuries. He pulled a little at a torn piece of fabric. “What happened?”

Jack’s eyes glistened in the soft lighting. He looked so young with his wide, sleepy eyes and messy hair. The concern etched into the wrinkle of his brow made Sam want to hug him. If only he wasn’t so exhausted.

“I fell,” Sam said. “It’s okay, Jack. I’m alright.”

Without saying a word, Jack got up and started tugging on Sam’s hand.

Sam stood and let Jack pull him along. “Where are we going?” Sam asked.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “I’ve learned a lot about how to clean up injuries.”

Jack lead Sam to sit on a chair in the kitchen and busied himself with grabbing antiseptic and bandages.

“Jack,” Sam said. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I promise I know how,” Jack said, looking at Sam with desperation. He was holding a dripping washcloth he had just rinsed at the sink.

Sam nodded and let Jack pull another chair in front of him, sitting down to face Sam and beginning to wipe dirt off of his arms. He was certainly focused, but he was a little clumsy with his movements. Sam had to hold back more than one grimace of pain. He made a mental note to teach Jack to be a little more careful when cleaning wounds before he inflicted his medical care on another unsuspecting victim.

Jack was so much like Sam had been when he was younger. Sam felt a rush of emotion remembering himself as a kid trying to bandage up Dean for the first time. “What the crap? Sammy! Slow down. That hurts like crazy. I’m gonna wish that werewolf had managed to tear my arm completely off if you keep going like this.”

Sam smiled at the memory.

“What? Am I doing it wrong?”

Sam hadn’t realized Jack was looking at his face. “No. No, you’re doing great.”

A satisfied smile crossed Jack’s face as he went back to his work.

Sam watched the way Jack frowned in concentration as he pressed a bandage onto Sam’s shoulder. He wondered if the ache in his chest was something all parents experienced. He wondered if this was how Bobby had felt when he would tuck a young Sam and Dean gently into the bed in his extra bedroom, scolding and grumbling the whole time.

There was something new inside of Sam since Jack had come into his life. Something scary and vulnerable. There was a new kind of fear. And a knowledge that he would do anything for this kid who was now scrubbing a washcloth down his cheek to remove the dirt caked there.

Sam closed his eyes for fear of them filling with tears if he kept looking at Jack’s earnest face while feeling the boy’s fingers stutter across his cheeks. Sam didn’t have any real injuries on his face, but Jack was determined to clean off all the dirt and sweat anyway.

When Jack’s hands left his face, Sam opened his eyes. He was met with Jack grinning proudly at him. “Good enough for government work,” he said, bouncing a little in his chair.

Sam arched an eyebrow.

“I heard Dean say that once,” Jack said with a shrug. “I don’t really understand it.”

Sam laughed. “Thank you, Jack,” he said, making a show of admiring the work Jack had done to bandage his arms. “I feel a lot better.”

“Are you ready to sleep?” Jack asked, punctuating the question with a yawn.

“I think so.” Sam stood and squeezed Jack’s shoulder. He walked with the boy down the hallway to their bedrooms.

Jack surprised Sam by walking past his own door and standing in Sam’s bedroom doorway. Sam scooted past him and flicked on the light.

“What is it, Jack?” Sam asked.

Jack looked pensive. “I’m worried you won’t actually go to sleep if I leave you alone.”

Sam wanted to laugh but Jack’s expression was sober, so he considered in silence for a moment.

“What do you say we watch a movie in here until I fall asleep?” Sam said. “Then once I’m asleep, you can go to bed.”

Sam watched Jack consider the offer.

“Okay,” he said after only a moment of thought. “I think I can do that.”

Sam smiled. “Good.”

Sam sat on his bed, reclining against the headboard. He was a little startled by how easily and quickly Jack settled himself next to Sam on the bed. He was still in his socks and pajamas. He leaned against the headboard next to Sam.

“What do you want to watch?” Sam asked as he turned on Netflix.

“Indiana Jones,” Jack murmured. Already his voice was getting groggy.

“Good choice,” Sam said with a smile.

The movie had barely started when Jack’s head started nodding. About ten minutes in, Jack was completely asleep. Sam was starting to think he would doze off too when he suddenly felt Jack’s head on his shoulder. Apparently, the boy had leaned over and settled against Sam’s arm, effectively using him as a pillow. Sam held his breath for a moment, not wanting to disturb Jack at all. He soon realized that wasn’t reasonable and began breathing normally again. He felt wide awake. And a little panicked. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wake Jack and he didn’t want to move him. But he knew he should try to help him be more comfortable. After a few moments of tense consideration, Sam slid himself down, guiding Jack with him. He tugged at the pillows and blankets as carefully as he could, rearranging them to cushion himself and Jack as much as possible. Soon they were both in a much better position for sleeping and Jack’s head was still tucked against Sam’s arm.

Holding Jack as he slept, Sam was reminded of how Dean used to comfort him after nightmares when he was a kid. “You gotta be brave, Sammy. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” Thinking of his brother’s soothing nature, Sam reached out his hand and placed it tenderly against Jack’s cheek, thumb stroking softly. Dean had always seemed to know exactly what to say and do to comfort Sam.

A rush of affection hit Sam with an unexpected force. This was his kid. This gentle, curious, compassionate boy. Sam just wanted to be able to protect him. He vowed in that moment to take better care of himself. For Jack. Sam couldn’t have Jack up in the middle of the night worrying about him.

Sam settled in tighter and closed his eyes to let sleep wash over him. Somehow he felt sure that he wouldn’t have any nightmares with Jack’s warmth next to him.