Morning arrived with Jessica humming in his ear again, perfectly out of tune.
Frank cracked one eye open. "You ever sleep?"
She flipped upside down midair, grinning. "Sleep's for organisms with limits. I'm built different."
He sat up, hair a mess, voice flat. "You're built annoying."
"Annoying keeps you alive, genius."
Her glow brightened as she snapped her fingers. System Notification:
> Training Mode Activated
Objective: Regain control of emotional output.
Bonus: Don't blow a hole in the backyard.
Frank groaned. "Can't we start after breakfast?"
"Nope. Self-pity burns calories. Move."
---
The Winchester backyard was still damp with dew. Sean's old tools leaned against the fence, the air carrying that early-morning chill that felt half-real, half-dream.
Jessica floated in front of him, crossing her arms like a miniature drill sergeant. "You're going to listen to your heartbeat. That's the rhythm of your core. You command it—don't fight it."
Frank took a slow breath, shut his eyes. Beneath the rustle of leaves, he felt it—the thump, thump, thump—steady, familiar.
Then, faintly, something underneath it. A deeper pulse, older than his own life.
He opened his eyes. Light shimmered over his skin like faint dust motes.
Jessica smirked. "See? Not hard when you stop panicking."
He smiled despite himself. "You're still bad at compliments."
"Flattery's for amateurs. I specialize in results."
She extended her hand, and a holographic circle unfolded around him, etched with runes that seemed to hum with the earth. "Now maintain it."
Frank centered his breath. The symbols glowed brighter, syncing with his heartbeat. For a brief second, he could feel the world breathing with him—the soil, the air, even the sound of distant cars.
The moment held—then broke.
The runes blinked out, the air stilled, and Jessica sighed. "Not bad. You held it for five seconds before your doubt kicked in."
He wiped sweat from his brow. "You could try encouragement."
"That was encouragement. My standards are just realistic."
He laughed under his breath. The sound startled him—it had been days since laughter felt natural.
Jessica tilted her head, her tone softening. "You're getting there, Frank. Power's not about rage—it's about rhythm."
He met her eyes. "Thanks."
"Don't get sappy on me. We've got miles to go before you're superhero material."
She vanished in a flash of light, leaving the faint scent of ozone behind.
---
Frank lingered a while, sitting on the grass as morning turned to noon. The quiet no longer felt heavy—it felt earned.
He didn't notice the shadow moving along the fence line
---
The bell on the Winchester gate gave a small, metallic clink.
Frank looked up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Emily stood there, a notebook in one hand, her hair half-tied and shining in the sunlight.
She looked… out of place in his yard—too composed for the chaos that always seemed to follow him.
"Hey," she said softly, stepping inside before he could answer. "You weren't at lunch, so I thought you might be dead."
He blinked. "That's… morbidly sweet."
She rolled her eyes. "You look like you just went three rounds with a hurricane. What were you doing?"
Before Frank could answer, Jessica's hologram flickered to life over his shoulder—smiling like she'd been waiting for the moment. "Training. And failing adorably."
Emily froze, eyes wide. "Whoa—what the hell is that?"
Frank winced. "Jessica, maybe don't—"
Too late. Jessica leaned forward, face inches from Emily's, her voice dripping with playful menace. "Hi, I'm his system. The better woman in his life."
Frank smacked his forehead. "She's not real, Em. She's… part of my ability."
Emily crossed her arms. "Part of your ability flirts like a rom-com villain."
Jessica smirked. "I like her." Then she turned to Frank. "She's got that spark. Don't screw it up."
Emily's cheeks flushed slightly, but she masked it with sarcasm. "You talk to holograms, and I'm the weird one."
Frank chuckled. "That's fair."
She dropped her notebook on the grass and sat beside him. The breeze caught her hair, brushing it across his arm. Something in him stirred—quiet, unexpected.
Jessica noticed instantly, her grin turning sly. "Ohhh, the temperature just spiked in here."
Frank hissed under his breath, "Jessica, not now."
Emily tilted her head. "You… okay?"
"Yeah," he said, though his pulse betrayed him. He wasn't sure if it was the sun, the training, or her.
For a few minutes, silence filled the yard—comfortable, fragile. Emily traced lines in the dirt with her finger. "I heard about the suspension thing," she said. "You didn't deserve that."
Frank shrugged. "It's fine. I don't like trouble, but it keeps finding me."
Jessica floated above them, her tone soft for once. "Or maybe it's looking for something inside you."
Neither of them looked at her.
Emily smiled faintly. "You're different, you know. Not like the other guys."
"Different how?"
"I don't know yet." She looked at him then, really looked. "But it's like you're here and somewhere else at the same time."
Her words hit deeper than she knew.
Because she was right.
Somewhere—maybe in another city, maybe in another world—a fragment of him stirred, mirroring the heartbeat he'd just learned to feel.
Jessica's gaze sharpened. "Frank."
He turned. "What?"
Her usual playfulness was gone. "One of your fragments just flared. Weak, but active."
Emily frowned. "Fragment?"
Frank's eyes unfocused for a moment. He didn't know how to explain it. The word alone sent a ripple through him—a sense of déjà vu wrapped in pain.
Jessica's hologram flickered brighter. "Someone… or something is waking up."
The wind shifted. Birds scattered from the trees as if something unseen had brushed against the world's edge.
Emily stood up slowly. "Frank… what's going on?"
He looked up at her, torn between the pull of two worlds—the quiet warmth beside him, and the storm brewing somewhere out there.
"I don't know," he said. "But I think my past just found me."