Jemma Winchester One Shots

Getting the Band Back Together

Oh my god I'm so sorry for not updating in like 6 months somehow all my drafts were deleted and I have like 40 but then they all came back when I got a new phone battery so HERE ENJOY SOME ANGST AND FLUFF.

Synopsis: Takes place end of season 11/beginning of season 12, and John and Mary come back from the dead

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JEMMA

I sniffle as I get into the Impala, letting the tears fall.

"Jemma, are you alright?" Cas asks as he gets in beside me.

I shake my head. "He's gone, Cas." I break down sobbing as Cas pulls me into his side. "He's gone!"

"I know, I know. It's going to be okay, though."

"No it's not! I need my dad!"

"He's dead, Jemma," Cas says gently.

"No! No! I want my dad!"

"Shh, shh. It's okay. You're going to be okay."

"No, no, I can't— Why did it have to be him? Why does it always have to be him?"

"I'm sorry, Jemma. I'm so sorry."

"I want my dad! Cas, please—bring him back," I beg. "Bring him back."

"I'm sorry, Jemma. I can't. I would if I could."

"No, Cas, you have to bring him back! I need—"

I black out as Cas presses his fingers to my forehead.

~

When I wake up, I'm still in the Impala, Uncle Sam driving. There's a blanket draped over me, and I think for a moment the person whose lap my head is in and rubbing my arm is my father, but it's Cas.

I bolt upright, startling Cas and Uncle Sam. "How could you do that?!" I shout. "You can't just—just knock me out like that!"

"I'm sorry," Cas says. "It was the only way I could get you to calm down."

Tears spill down my cheeks. "You still can't just do that."

"Are you going to start crying again?"

"Yeah."

Uncle Sam stops the car. "We're home." As we get out of the car, he grabs my shoulders, stopping me. "Listen, I know... it's gonna be a rough time at first, but I got you. I'm here for you."

I nod, my throat tightening, and wrap my arms around his neck. "I love you, Uncle Sam."

"I love you too, kiddo. So much. Let's go inside."

He pats my shoulder as we enter the Bunker.

What will we do with all of Dad's stuff? Will we leave it in his room? Will we pack it all away in boxes and try to forget how much it hurts that he's gone?

I'm ripped from my thoughts as someone grabs me from behind. I let out a surprised yell as I feel a sharp sting in my neck, and I hear the sound of a syringe being pushed down.

"Hey!" Uncle Sam yells as drowsiness fills my bones and my brain. I slip out of whoever's grasp I was in. It's a blonde woman.

"Don't move," she says with a British accent and points a gun at him.

"No..." I manage to say before I lose consciousness.

~

"Jemma. Come on, Sunshine, wake up."