Supernatural: Next Generation

( Takes place in 16.1, when Jesse and Ben go to the Laundry Room )

( Takes place in 16.1, when Claire and Jesse are in the guest room )

- THEN -


NOW



“So I take it from what you said that you haven’t managed to wrangle either of your boys into church with you yet.” Claire tried to stop herself from letting a somewhat cynical laugh out. It came out as an aborted snort, which burned thanks to the Tabasco.

“You know how Ben does mornings, and you’d have a better chance of getting Jesse to wear a dress.” Which, somehow, seemed vaguely true. Claire glanced across the bar, taking a sip from the chaser Izzy ordered. Izzy smirked a little at the mental image.

( “He’s got the hips for it,” she mused. )

***

“I hate you.”

Ben couldn’t help but pout. It had taken him two years of regular paint ball with his friend Ricky, and another year with an actual gun to get to be a good shot. Sure, he could shoot something, but there was no real aim to it. Video games taught him nothing, not even the PS5 ones that were super-realistic; the weight and kickback just didn’t exist in a controller.

Jesse shot every single bulls-eye he’d set up for him. Even the swinging ones, and the ones he’d thrown. It wasn’t fair.

To his credit, Jesse did try to hold back his smirk. Not really successfully, but he did try. “I don’t see what the big deal is, mate. You just point it where you want it to go,” he said, flipping the safety on before he checked the chamber. Guns were such a foreign thing to Jesse; he couldn’t help but be fascinated about how the parts all came together.

“Because it’s hard and it took me forever and I hate you,” Ben retorted, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumping.

Biting his lip, Jesse holstered the gun before sliding a hand on Ben’s hip and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ( “Which makes you more impressive and accomplished and shit, so be proud.” )

***

Jesse gasped hard, the relieved breath of a man no longer in pain. He was still sprawled, but the world around him was very different, even with his eyes closed. Instead of dirt beneath him, it was smooth wooden planks. The breeze tasted of salt and he could hear the gentle roll of waves, cut with the sharp scream of a gull.

Not what he’d been expecting.

Opening his eyes, he saw the demon standing over him. Dressed in a white linen shirt and tailored tan pants, he looked like a celebrity on vacation rather than a demon from hell. He arched one dark brow at him, offering a hand.

“Looks like you need to work on your landings.”

Shoving himself back and to his feet, Jesse snatched his gun out of the holster, flipping off the safety as he aimed it at the demon’s head. ( “You ever heard of texting, you fuckhead?!” )

***

Claire listened to the kitchen screen door slam with its own weight after Izzy slipped out to fetch the dogs for their dinner. She peered out through the window over the sink, where she’d been repaying the older woman’s hospitality by doing some dishes, ignoring the thought that the last time she’d performed the menial task she was probably sixteen years old.

A storm was rolling in from the east, pulling a dark front of clouds in steadily from the shore. By the iron smell in the atmosphere that drifted in from the open door, Claire suspected it’d be pouring in a matter of minutes.

“Where’s Izzy?”

Ben appeared in the small kitchen, his expression straining and his face pale. There was an intense fear in his eyes. Claire shook her hands off over the sink, the initial confusion of his tone melted away the moment she saw his face. Alarm bells went off.

“Out back getting the dogs... what happened?”

( “Jesse’s gone.” )

***

It was a challenge, trying to find a way to make a meal all of them would like. When Izzy had came in and found Ben gone, and gotten very little from Claire about what had happened, she figured that was the best way to bring them all together.

She knew for a fact that Ben’s favorite was inside-out burgers and home fries. He was an easy one to please. After a gentle nudge from Claire, Izzy discovered she had soft spot for a Thanksgiving-esque meal, but there was no way in hell she was gonna roast a bird for three hours without proper planning; a breast would do though. Jesse, could barely meet her eyes when she’d caught him for a moment, but he’d finally answered after she’d promised they were square. Surf and turf. Izzy couldn’t help but reflect on how much the meals said something about each of them.

It had taken about three hours to get dinner finished, complete with her meal of choice, but she felt pretty damn pleased of herself. Something was clearly up, but the home cooked meal seemed to ease the tension and loosen their tongues.

“Gotta say I agree,” Izzy said around a mouthful of Moqueca stew. “Huntin’ south in this weather? Y’all are gluttons for punishment.”

“Not my choice,” Jesse said, maybe a shade closer to defensive than joking. “I just go wherever these two drive.”

Ben frowned a little as he popped another fry in his mouth. “You know we go where the jobs go, Iz.”

Izzy half smiled. ( “Yeah, I know, but still. Y’know you ain’t the only hunters in the whole country.” )

***

Leaning against his hand and slumping so low his chin nearly touched the bar, Jesse ordered another Jack and coke. Ben and Claire were playing pool. Jesse didn’t join them ‘cause he thought it was a boring game, and anyway, if he played, he’d probably be good at it, and then Ben would be mad at him again.

As the drink was set in front of him, he wiped at his eyes. It wasn’t like he was crying or anything, because that would be stupid and he didn’t like crying in front of people. His eyes had just sprung a slow leak and he couldn’t seem to turn it off.

A nagging pulled at the back of his head, growing so much that he couldn’t ignore it any more. He turned around just in time to see a girl sitting a couple tables behind look away. Right. Just feeling someone looking at him.

He turned back around, taking a long swig, but that nagging was still there. He spun around, and though the world tilted, he could clearly see the girl was looking away again. But the nagging was still there, and it was definitely coming from her. He scowled. It was like he recognized her, but not in the usual way. He didn’t think he’d seen her before, but then, he was awfully drunk. But there was something about her. He knew he wasn’t just imagining it. Leaving his drink, he got up and started wobbly wending his way towards her.

The moment he moved, however, she stood up and rushed for the exit in a flurry of gauzy blue fabric and blonde hair. Without a thought, Jesse bolted after her. When he burst out the door, he caught sight of her dodging between cars in the parking lot, so he didn’t stop, running for all he was worth. He was a fast runner, when he wanted to be, but she practically flew.

( “Wait!” )

***

Jesse had been out of it the next morning, something Ben found himself a little surprised about given the fact that the man could choose whether or not to have a hangover. Something was still clearly wrong, and it bothered Ben on a deep level, but he didn’t press. The fight from the night before still stung.

But they had a lead. Claire was on the mend -- however currently on the phone with Lucas for the fourth time that afternoon, pacing on light feet just outside the window of the pawn shop. It was time to get a move on. Luckily Izzy was able to pull herself away from her true love’s embrace long enough to start stocking them up with what she had on hand, but they needed more metals for silver and iron shot, and maybe some copper if they could find it. It was a decent enough day to start picking the pawn shops, and there were enough around that they could hit up ten or so and fill up by dinner. The fact that Jesse was eager to come along also surprised Ben, but he also kept that surprise to himself.

It was the third shop they’d stepped in, and Ben wasted no time going straight to the jewelry cabinet, keeping his small talk to a minimum outside of the specifics. Jesse was right on his heels, again. He wished at least Ben wasn’t looking in the same places he was, but so far the other man didn’t seem suspicious.

And then Jesse’s stomach dropped to his feet. There, set aside with other pendant necklaces, was exactly what he was looking for. No question. His hands balled up but he tried to appear calm.

( “Could I see this?” )

It seemed like all the talk about angels had Jesse once again on edge, but at least now he was okay around Claire again. Mostly. He was spending a lot of time with Izzy lately, following the older woman out to her garage while she worked and otherwise wandering the junkyard with her two dogs trailing behind. At least he hadn’t run off, though. After Claire’s dream, Ben had feared he would, but one good thing did emerge out of it: Claire knew what the sigils looked like. Not wanting to get a tattoo too soon when they weren’t even completely sure if they worked, Ben had opted to buy a henna kit from a nearby new age store and let her put it on the both of them. He’d let her put it on his chest, on the opposite side as the anti-possession tattoo. Every time he caught sight of it in the mirror, he felt a little bit odd.

Should’ve done the arm or something... he thought absently, working the edge of his razor slowly down his cheek.

“You know, I like the scruffy look,” came her familiar voice from behind, warm, but still carrying the same weight it had over the last couple days.

Shifting the angle of his gaze in the mirror, He saw Claire was right behind him, her shoulder pressed lightly on the painted door jamb. Her hair was dry, but she was wrapped in a towel, obviously heading in for a shower. Ben met her eyes with a half-smile, sticking the blade beneath the faucet and turning it on briefly before bringing it back up to his face again.

“Well I mean, I already started,” he said lightly. ( “Jesse would give me all kinds of shit if I only did one side of my face. I’ll grow it out after this though, promise.” )

****

Body work was perhaps one of the most fun parts of working on a car. Granted, it left Isobel Gallagher’s body aching and sore, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. All the banging and blow-torching was fantastic stress relief, especially when she hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in four days. But that was the risk of dating a hunter, and Izzy knew he was safe. There were people that would get a hold of her if he wasn’t.

The GTO looked as though it’d been stuck into a garbage disposal, but the hood and sides were still well enough in tact. One door had come partly off its hinges, which was proving to be a bit of a struggle to work with, but after fighting with both the molding and the hinge for an hour, she decided to put it off until the next day. Maybe Ben would do it. He had a bit more muscle in his arms than she did, after all.

Damn, but she did miss the kid. It felt good having him around again, even if it was only for a while. The tension he carried in with him and his friends was thick enough to cut through, which made it a bit less-than-ideal, but Izzy knew how to diffuse tension. It was part of what brought hunters and other supernatural investigators back to her over and over again.

( Well, that and her cooking. )

***

It’d been at least a week since he’d cleaned the guns, and with Claire napping and Jesse off in the yard with Izzy, now seemed as good a time as any. Ben worked with a quiet efficiency, cleaning each individual piece with his hand tools before he oiled them up and reassembled them. With two sets of guns and a few extra pieces they’d picked up along the way for Jesse’s use it was proving to be a much longer job than he anticipated though, but Ben didn’t mind.

His head rose when he heard the door open, watching Izzy as she moved with purpose toward her bedroom. Her face was a little flushed. He frowned some, tracking her with his eyes before she moved out of his field of vision, returning a moment later.

“Everything all right?” he asked when she came through the living room again. The dogs very nearly tripped over themselves trying to follow her, and Izzy nearly tripped over them when she came to a sudden stop to look at him, flashing him a quick smile.

“Yeah, just came to get my hand lotion. There isn’t any in the garage,” she said by way of clarification. His brows rose slightly but he didn’t say anything, letting her run off again. He knew she liked to moisturize her hands after using the degreasing soap - a trick he picked up from her when he started to notice the positive difference - but with Jesse out there, Ben couldn’t deny where his mind went. He frowned again, dropping his eyes back to the gun he had been partway through finishing.

It wasn’t a minute before the bathroom door opened and Jesse peeped out. His face went instantly red when he saw Ben, but he stepped out. “You hungry?” he blurted. “I was going to go to the kitchen, fix something, and I figured, if you wanted something.”

Ben blinked in surprise at Jesse’s sudden appearance. “Weren’t you just--” but then it hit him: He’d zapped in. Ben’s brow pinched, both at the realization and Jesse’s demeanor. ( “Nevermind. No, I’m kinda up to my elbows here.” )

***

Izzy couldn’t go a minute without feeling a pleasant hit of deja vu. Although Ben was quite a bit healthier and his movements more assured, his quirks and voice and laugh were still that same mauled kid she’d met years ago. She couldn’t help glancing at him every now and then as they worked on the GTO, which was looking more and more like a real car.

“I never would have pegged you for partnering up,” she said, wiping her hands on the rag at her waist. “You had such a damn independent streak when I met you.”

Out of habit, Ben pulled the edge of his shirt up to his face and rubbed at the grime that had started collecting on his cheeks. He didn’t have coveralls that fit anymore, not by a long shot, and had to settle instead on a raggedy pair of jeans and the shirt he wore when he’d run out of clean clothes. There were holes in at least five places, and the neck hem had been ripped clean off, but it did the job.

“Felt right,” he said distractedly from beneath the car, his voice refracted back to him from the metal parts mere inches away from his face.

Izzy cocked her head to the side but didn’t comment, working in silence for a bit. Then, “Claire must be something special, getting you to give up that car.”

Ben chuckled, having expected the veiled question for a couple days now. Jesse had implied a few things when he’d told him what had gone down between them, and he’d caught a few meaningful looks from Izzy during meal clean-up or when Claire had occasionally stuck her head into the garage to check their progress. It wasn’t like he hid his feelings; he hid everything from everybody nearly every day of his life, and he wasn’t about to hide them in the company of trusted friends. Still, he found himself at a loss on how best to say what was inside his head and heart, especially after the talk he’d had with Jesse.

( “They both are,” he said after a long pause. )

***

Summer nights in Maryland weren’t much different than the summer nights in Alabama, or any other southern state. Sure, the humidity was slightly less oppressive: little summer squalls didn’t come and go every fifteen minutes here, and that was a plus--but the heat was the same. Claire could hear the crickets out in Izzy’s junk yard singing away as the twilight melted into a rich, velvet navy blue. Lightning bugs blinked in the distance, disappearing in the slivers of light that came from the garage, where Ben and their host were working on making the GTO not look like it’d recently rolled off a cliff.

The sound of water shutting off clued her in to the whereabouts of the only other occupant in the house. She and Jesse had always had a different dynamic than what she shared with Ben. Though her reasons for attachment to the cambion were stitched slightly different than with the other member of their hard-to-define relationship, that didn’t mean she loved him any less. It did, however, make certain things a little more difficult for Claire to define or understand. Also, in light of the recent angel-induced vision of the future, there was some tension between them that Claire didn’t know what to do with. She could sense it from him--a fear she understood, but couldn’t soothe, and that in turn frightened her as well. It was hard to shake the vision; the look in the eyes of the older-version of him, and everything she knew he’d done.

( Though as much as it frightened her, it also firmly resolved how in love she was with the Jesse she had here and now. )

***

The service had been excellent, as was to be expected. Izzy loved her church, from Bible study to meet and greet and all the parts between. The fellowship kept her grounded and sane during the long bouts of no-contact with the world. Junkyard work was a lot less frequented those days as traditional cars started fizzling off the market to be replaced by streamlined electric and fuel cell cars. Diesel and gasoline was still the norm, but filling stations typically only kept one or two designated pumps anymore, and she still hadn’t gotten retrained to work on the higher-end cars yet. They were a lot less likely to fall apart, what with the Locust-systems most were equipped with. Cars damn near drove themselves.

That was okay, though. Izzy liked her client base, and the metal could still be melted down and sold. There was still work to be done and money to be made. And at the very least, there were still hunters who needed her help, like the blond sitting in the chair beside her, looking pensive as her thumbs traced back-and-forth paths over the ceramic coffee cup in her hands.

( “Did you want me to getcha another cruller, darlin’?” )

TO BE CONTINUED...