Chapter Text
Such a lonely day
And it’s mine
The most loneliest day of my life
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Jack really wished he was allowed to join Sam and Dean on the hunts. He knew it was dangerous and he was inexperienced but whatever hot water he could potentially find himself in would surely beat the seemingly eternal boredom he felt when the bunker was empty. The place might be a gigantic maze full of rooms to explore, but even the biggest buildings run out of rooms after a while, especially when he didn't have much else to do. Sure, there were dozens of books on the shelf in the library, but most of them didn't really grab his interest when he looked at the covers and, more importantly, he didn't want to accidentally lose them.
Jack hasn't been alive for long, but he quickly discovered he had a tendency to lose almost anything he got a hold of, even a nougat bar he was in the middle of eating. As soon as Sam realised why he was finding Jack's things in weird places he put a tracking spell of some sort on the key to Jack's room, his phone, headphones and basically anything he would lose on a regular basis. However, even with the problem mostly solved, it could still be embarrassing, especially if the thing he lost happened to belong to one of the other residents of the bunker. It could also cause trouble if he happened to lose something important so just in case, Jack stayed clear from the library books.
The clock on one of the walls seemed to tick in slow motion. Tick, tick, tick. It's been maybe ten hours since Sam and Dean left for ‘a quick salt and burn, should be back tomorrow’ and Jack already felt like he had used up all the possible ways to entertain himself including testing some weird roller skates prototype the Men of Letters had laying around in their bunker for some reason. It was fun but after almost crushing into a wall at full speed and making a huge mess he later had to clean up, Jack decided that maybe using them inside hadn't been his brightest idea. Maybe he could try again outside, once the brothers were back.
He found himself walking down the hallway to his room, subconsciously deciding an hour of wandering around was more than enough. The door opened easily and without a squeak counterintuitively to what he had heard about most of the old abandoned, neglected buildings. The bunker was lived in now, of course, but it didn't seem to have been renovated in any way. With how busy his family seemed to be even without a world threatening apocalypse on their heads, Jack wasn't really surprised they didn't have the time to paint the walls or change the furniture. Maybe the squeaking doors annoyed Dean enough to take care of them at least.
Jack didn't have much laying around in his room. There were some CD's Dean allowed him to take because ‘the vinyls are obviously much better quality’ and ‘he didn't really listen to them’. Jack had his suspicions especially when he saw Dean marching into the bunker three days later with brand new vinyls with exactly the same albums he allowed Jack to take, but he didn't say anything having learned by now that Dean preferred to leave his gifts ambiguous. Probably to avoid the ‘chick flick moments’ as he heard the brothers refer to more emotional conversations. He still chose to call them gifts even if Dean didn’t want to admit it.
He also had some coloring supplies and books as he found drawing and coloring quite calming, some plushies Sam bought him on one of his first days in the bunker and some books (also bought on the same day) which were according to Sam, pop culture classics. Jack had read through The Hobbit and The Lord Of The Rings as well as Harry Potter in a span of a month, but he didn’t want to ask for more when he was already getting so much without even asking. He felt guilty for using up so much of their resources when even allowing him to live with them was more than he could ask for, being the son of Lucifer.
Sam had told him many times, every time Jack had let his guilt show actually, that his parentage didn’t matter, but Jack just couldn't accept it. Sure, he believed that Sam believed he was good, but belief alone didn’t automatically make him good. His actions did, as Dean had liked to remind him those first few weeks in the bunker. He knew Dean’s words were heavily influenced by grief he had for Cas and the man apologized to him for them (although in a roundabout way) but that didn’t make them any less true. Jack knew he was just a ticking bomb and it was only a matter of time until he blew up in their faces.
He shook himself out of the unpleasant thoughts. He couldn’t let himself get lost in them, it didn’t change anything. He repeated the mantra he had developed, one he first heard from Sam and which helped him every time his thoughts spiralled. You’re a blank slate and you have just as much potential to do good as you have evil, his voice rang in his mind. He could be good. It was all a matter of choice. In and out he breathed and the weight in his chest lessened.
Sometimes, he wondered how it was possible that Sam always knew just what to say. Every time Jack felt lonely or terrified or just sad, Sam seemed to know exactly how he was feeling and what he needed to hear. It was like a superpower, one that Jack, despite being the most powerful being in existence, didn’t have. Sam just knew. It seemed much deeper than the simple empathy he got from Cas too. There was something in the air, during their conversations, a hint of absolute understanding down to the very core of their souls. It was amazing and also slightly terrifying and every time Jack noticed it he was overwhelmed by curiosity. Why was it exactly that while Castiel was his chosen father and the one he had a connection with before he was even born, it was Sam who always knew exactly what was going on in his head?
He heard once, when the brothers didn’t know he was listening in, Dean say that Sam was projecting too much onto Jack. He had no idea what it meant but it felt essential, like the biggest clue he was going to get for the giant jigsaw puzzle of their relationship. He knew he could probably just ask but Sam seemed uncomfortable whenever the topic of his past was brought up and Jack hated seeing that. So he just sat in his curiosity, waiting for answers he knew wouldn’t come, too scared to reach for them on his own. Frightened by the possibility of getting left behind, abandoned just because he couldn’t keep his questions to himself.
What if he found answers somewhere else, a thought occurred to him. He was a nephilim, there was nothing he couldn’t do with the right supplies. He was curious about Sam’s past so why not see it for himself? He wouldn’t have to ask anyone if he saw what he needed with his very own eyes. He knew for a fact that angels could travel in time so why couldn’t he? Even Cas said something about it so it had to be possible for Jack too. He smiled at the idea and looked around the room. If he was going to travel he should probably pack something, just in case.
Such a lonely day
Should be banned
It’s a day that I can’t stand
There was a problem with his plan, Jack realized once he had his backpack with clothes and essentials safely on his back. He had no idea how time-travelling worked. It should be easy, maybe just thinking about a specific date and teleporting or something similar but it wasn’t. Thinking did nothing, picturing too. Unlike any other thing Jack tried with his powers, time travel didn’t come instinctually. It even seemed to fight with him, a sensation similar to flying settling in his chest but getting pushed out by the stream of time itself. At once, Jack realized that what he was trying to do required much more power and skill than any other ability he had. Without training, he wouldn’t be able to do this and he couldn’t exactly ask Cas to teach him time traveling so he could spy on his dad’s friend's past.
Maybe the Men of Letters had something he could use in the bunker? From what he knew, it was thanks to time travel the Winchesters got access to it in the first place so it wouldn’t be a far stretch. Where would he hide a spell for traveling in time if he was a part of an ancient knowledge gathering organisation?
…
He had no idea. He had never been a part of an ancient knowledge gathering organisation. He groaned and sat on his bed. There had to be a way, Sam and Dean had to find weird information in the bunker all the time. His eyes landed on his laptop, sitting innocently on his desk as if it didn’t just give him the answer to all his problems. Of course! How did he not think about this earlier!? Sam had a database of all the things they read through in the bunker so far so they could find information easier. He had given Jack access to it so he could help with research whenever they needed him to. If there really was a time travel spell of some kind, it would be in the database. He just had to search for it!
And search he did. Once he found the right combinations of words to type the result came easily. He didn’t even have to search through the library, the spell seemed to be its own thing not a part of any of their books. There were some supplies needed for it, but from what he could see they were mostly for gathering enough power to travel in time. Jack had, as some would say ‘absurdly huge amounts of power’ so he decided to just say the spell and see if it worked. The words in a spell gave the power a direction and that's all Jack needed. Anything else was unnecessary. It seemed like all he had to do was say it and think about a specific date. The spell seemed to work on familial relations but Jack was confident enough in his power to negate the requirement. The blood thing was meant to reduce the amount of power needed for time travel and Jack had plenty of it. He just didn’t know how to use it correctly.
Shaking off any last doubts he had about his not really thought through as much as it probably should be idea, he read the words on the screen. He wasn’t sure how far back he should travel so he thought about the first date that came into his mind.
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And if you go
I wanna go with you
And if you die
I wanna die with you
Take your hand and walk away
Sam still couldn’t believe he was actually here. College, in California, as far away from hunting as he could possibly get. It didn’t feel real, more like a fever dream he would wake up from and return to shooting silver bullets at monsters with skill and accuracy he should be proud of, but which instead gave him the chills up the spine. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever be truly normal, but at least now he could pretend he didn’t grow up surrounded by weapons, practicing killing instead of playing hide and seek or training hand-to-hand combat with his brother instead of making a pillow fort.
Dean…
If there was a reason not to run away, this was the one. He’s been here for a month and every day, sometimes even a few times a day, he found himself dialing Dean’s number and stopping himself right before pressing the ‘call’ button. It was stupid, but he was too scared to talk to him. The fight he had with his father right before he left escalated like none other before. Dean tried to play peacemaker but both Sam and his father were much too emotional to stop and the fight ended only when Sam walked out of the door. Now, when the emotions have calmed, he wanted to apologise to his brother more than anything else. Yet every time he tried he turned his phone off instead, too afraid of Dean screaming at him just like his father had. Dean did always seem to follow in John's footsteps after all.
Sam sighed and washed his face with cold water, the sensation immediately taking his attention away from his thoughts. No use thinking about it now, he had classes in half an hour. The building he had the lectures in wasn’t that far away from his apartment but he preferred to be early. Better safe than sorry.
He walked out of the bathroom and was just about to leave when all of the sudden, the closet door opened and someone fell out of it. Sam immediately stopped in his tracks and grabbed the knife he always carried in his pocket. He may have left hunting but not searching for creatures to kill didn’t mean not being prepared in case a creature found him.
Aside from having fallen out of his closet, which only housed his clothes, not beings of any kind he may add, the guy on the floor seemed fully human. He had light blonde hair, was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and was now looking around the room in confusion. He looked like a lost college student but Sam knew for a fact he didn’t hide any college students in his closet. And he wasn’t in any closer relationships with anyone on the campus so he didn’t think anyone would sneak into his apartment for jokes. That left either a student who got way too drunk last night and wandered into Sam’s closet for some reason or a supernatural creature. Believe it or not, Sam would actually prefer the first option. The second option unfortunately seemed much more likely.
“Who are you?” Sam asked, hand gripping the knife in his pocket, but not taking it out yet, just in case this really was a student.
The guy got up from the floor and stared at Sam as if he was analysing particularly illegible handwriting. (Sam had some experience with that, having compared notes with other students a few times. He was surprised anyone could read what they wrote, many weren’t even able to do that themselves.)
“Sam?” He asked with hesitation and Sam calmed down a little. A creature wouldn’t be hesitant with his name if it knew who he was and while he had never seen the guy around before, it wasn’t impossible for him to recognise Sam. His height made him easier to remember than an average student on the campus.
“Yeah?” Sam said, not really sure how to behave. Killing monsters might be the last thing he would want to do but at least it was straight forward. Talking with people, especially normal people? Not so much. It was different when he pretended to be police to get information from a witness, he knew exactly what to say in that situation. Now? He was more lost than a three year old at a shopping mall. “Are you alright? What were you doing in my closet?” He wasn’t sure if that was the correct thing to say but none of the books he read on social interaction covered talking to a stranger who fell out of your closet.
“I’m fine, I think.” The guy said before smiling and getting up from the floor. “Hi, I’m Jack! Jack Kline.” He reached out a hand and Sam took it.
“Sam Winchester. But you already knew that.” He smiled awkwardly. Jack mimicked his expression and Sam almost laughed. At least he wasn’t the only socially inept person in the room. “So… What are you studying?” He asked the most basic get-to-know-someone-on-campus question he could think of.
He didn't have any friends yet and it’s been a month already. At this rate he would stay lonely for the rest of college at least, probably for his entire life, just because his freakish upbringing didn't really teach him how to socialise with normal people on a deeper level. He could do small talk for hours, get information he needed easily, but a deeper relationship? He could forget about it, no normal person would stand him for more than an hour. Even the surface relationships never went further than one exchange of words. He read somewhere that networking was an essential part of college and so far he wasn’t doing great with it. So if this really was a student, he desperately needed to get to know him even if just as a future contact. At this point, any connections were worth gold.
“Umm…” Jack looked confused.
“I mean, like, I am pre-law. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sam clarified. Jack looked at him with a face in an “o”. It was weird, but with every weird thing Jack did Sam was more convinced of his humanity. When monsters bothered to play humans they were more than prepared to do so and if they got this confused they would probably just attack or quickly walk away. They wouldn’t try to figure out what was going on.
“I don’t think I study anything.” Jack said and now Sam was just plain confused. If he wasn’t a monster and he wasn’t a student then what was he and how did he get into his closet?
“What are you doing here then?” Sam asked, having completely lost track of the conversation.
“I… Um… Kinda… Usedtimetraveltomeetyouinthepastbutnowthatimhereihavenoideawhattodo?” Jack smiled sheepishly with a bit of panic in his eyes.
“Wait, what?” Sam asked, unsure if he heard correctly.
“I came here from the future because I was curious about your past.” Jack said, clarifying nothing.
They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, both of them not knowing what to say. Sam couldn’t believe what he just heard. Time travel? Was that even possible? With all the monsters and ghosts he encountered over the years the idea of time travel shouldn’t be that shocking, but it was. And Jack wanted to see him of all people? Why? Did that mean…
“Do you know me in the future or something?” Sam asked and Jack seemed just as relieved as him that someone finally broke the silence.
“Yeah! We live together in a bunker.” Jack said. “I was bored and curious so I found a spell for time travel but I don’t know what to do now. I didn’t really think this through…”
“Wha- You know what, nevermind. Let me get this straight, you know me in the future and you were bored so you decided to visit me in the past?” Jack nodded. Sam stared at him in disbelief. “Do you even know how to get back?”
“...Maybe?”
Sam wanted to bang his hand on the wall. How was it possible that even after burning all his bridges to his family the supernatural nonsense still found its way into his life? At least it didn’t seem dangerous this time, just someone he apparently lived in a bunker with which made him wonder just what was going on in the future that required living in a bunker. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. What he did want, however, was to just go to his lecture and be back in normal college life where things made sense. Lecture. Oh crap. He looked at his watch which thankfully showed he still had twenty minutes left. That was exactly why it was better to leave earlier.
“Um, Jack?” He asked and the blonde turned to look at him. “I have classes in twenty minutes and I have to get going. You can… Stay here I guess?” He couldn’t believe he was actually about to leave a stranger in his apartment but he didn’t have a choice. And it wasn’t like he had anything worth stealing in there anyway. Time travel or no time travel he couldn’t afford to skip his classes.
“I can do that.” Jack smiled and Sam walked out of the door. As soon as they closed he let all the anxiety he had bottled up out. He had a time traveler in his apartment. A time traveler who he apparently lived with in the future. And they lived in a bunker. With time travel spells apparently.
He made it to the main building in record time. Normally, the walk was twenty minutes but today, fueled with anxiety, Sam made the distance in fifteen. His classes were just about to start when he got to the lecture hall. Luckily, no one took his usual seat. He put down his things and settled in at the last moment before the lecture started. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as familiar law terms reached his ears. For now, he had classes. He could worry about time travel and a possibly apocalyptic future later.