Something by Mello2014
Summary:

"Dont you ever want something more? Maybe with someone who understands...nothing domestic but...something--" [Drabble Collection]

 

**Can be found on my AO3 account soulmuzik


Categories: Primetime Television Characters: Abigail Mills, Jenny Mills
Classification: Cannon, Crossover, Drabbles , Supernatural
Genre: Action-Adventure , Comedy , Drama, Family, Friendship, Romance
Story Status: Completed
Pairings: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: Yes Word count: 4989 Read: 9917 Published: July 13 2017 Updated: July 13 2017
Jenny & Sam, Reversed by Mello2014
Author's Notes:

Jenny & Sam role reversal:

SH: season 3

SPN: season 3

Jenny had no good memories of church.

As a girl, church was all laced socks and white dresses and sore scalps from hair braided too tight. She hated it. Back then, it was one of the many things she and her big sister had in common. Now, it remains a memory. And she like it that way.

As a woman, church was a little more complicated. It couldn't be untrue; she'd seen demons and angels with her own eyes. But faith, and all that? The stuff her mom used to wrestle with, and try to wrestle into them? Faith in God? Why? What had they done for her but complicate everything? If Jenny and God were mutual friends on Facebook, "It's complicated" would be stamped between their names. You wouldn't catch her dead in a church.

Well, unless she was hunting down a demon who'd taken up shop there and kidnapped her partner. And that's close enough, isn't it?

The church is dark, old, abandoned. There's graffiti everywhere. There aren't any seats in the pew rows. All the wood is rotting and the ceiling has collapsed in more than a few areas. The stain glass is most broken, but there are a couple of halos and praying hands and it's all so uncomfortably familiar. She sees him, tied to a chair on the alter like...the kid in the bible, who was going to get sacrificed by his father...what was his name...

"You're thinking of Isaac: different unfortunate set of circumstances", the demon's voice echoed from a chamber off the stage, as she strode in. The girl it was wearing, some hipster with a buzz cut, is wearing all this leather and black and when had demons gotten so angsty? Jenny rolled her shoulders, and pulled both guns from their places at her hip; the last time they did this dance the demon had some friends. That's how Sam was snatched.

"Oh, you can read minds? What am I thinking right now?"

Jenny unclicks the safeties, and the demon splits the girl's face in a smile that looks eerily unnatural. "You really wanna do all that to little old me? Why hurt the messenger, Mills?" She circles Sam, grabbing a hand full of hair and pulling. The step forward is instinctual, but the demon throws a hand up to stop her, "ah, ah. He's just...a talking piece. I really just wanted to talk to you."

Jenny doesn't have time for the games, and has a clear shot, so she raises the gun at eye level, but Sam's suddenly in the way with a knife pressed into his skin. It's drawing blood, and the demon licks it off, "The only reason he's still alive is because the boss likes his girls willing", Jenny glowers at it as it continues, "so the sedative is a precaution. Funny, we're usually going after these Winchesters. But you're the prize today. Ancitif misses you, Mills."

Jenny swallows past a lump in her throat, "so why take him? If you wanted me, anyway?"

"You care. And so does he. And since Abbie isn't here-"

"Don't talk about my sister", Jenny's grip on the guns tightens and Sam's still blocking most of her target space. Her heart thuds against her ribcage like an animal that doesn't belong there. She's caught, between what's been hurting and the possible truth to the demon's words; because she does care, doesn't she? Otherwise she'd get out. But she can't, not without him. She doesn't want to deal with the fact that she can't lose him, too

It grins in that unearthly way again, "I've got a proposition for you. You come with me", it nods, smiling, "you come home, and we don't leave the world Winchester-less. Or you can try to figure out a way to explain all the blood on the alter to the police."

Jenny clenches her jaw, "why now? Hell's winning again. Why do you need me?"

That damn smirk is back and Jenny wishes she could blow it away, "haven't you heard? There's a war coming. And Ancitif only wants the best for the fight. And you're the It Girl. Feels good to be special, don't it? Abbie wasn't the only one called to something. Why do you think we're here? Not just for the theatrics, Mills. You got an unholy calling on you, and you've known that forever, haven't you? Why do you think so many giants are falling? Your sister? Hell, his brother? Space is being made. It's time to get what's owed to you, baby girl. So come home."

For the first time during all this, she catches Sam's eye. They've told each other a lot, not everything, but enough. And his eyes look strong, despite the sedative and the ropes and the too-small chair and the blood coming from the cut on his neck and the crown of his head. His eyes are strong and clear and telling her to resist. To fight.

For a long time, she didn't know how to. She learned how, the hard way in the roughest conditions but Ancitif was a reflection of how easily her resistance can be broken. Fighting, as of late, hadn't gotten her anywhere. Her sister was gone. And they'd been tireless in their fight. It haunted her, and now, in the pit of this forsaken church, something else loomed that may haunt her.

But his eyes were sure. It was as if she could hear his voice, fight, Jenny. It's what we do. It's what we have to do.

Jenny's brow rose slow, "let him go, and I will."

She watched the panic rise in his eyes as she put the guns down, approaching the alter. The closer she gets, the wider that smile gets on the demon. It comes from around Sam and outstretches its hand. Sam's body, still weak from the drugs, pulls against his confines but it's useless. She can feel his eyes boring into her. The space between she in the demon closes fast.

And then she's snatching its hand towards her and stabbing Sam's knife through its abdomen. "Tell Ancitif to kiss my ass."

With a thud, the body hits the floor. It's no longer a threat and Jenny works fast to get Sam out of that chair and the hell out of that church.

 

Jenny may never have any good memories in a church, but she'll count this victory as a not so bad one. 

End Notes:

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