Secrets and Truth

by Sailorpipn

Prompt 41 on Livejournal: Jessica knows Sam has been lying to her about his family ever since they first met. Between T and M, Some Dean/Jess And thanks to Mayalaen for betaing. and I don't know why it's all underlined... I'm trying to fix that.

Prompt 41: Jessica knows Sam has been lying to her about his family ever since they first met. And Prompt 60: Jess had an interesting dating history before she ended up with Sam.

Part 1

If there was one thing Jess liked to do, it was to drink. It was something fun, something to take her away from her dull life. At least, when she was drinking, she wasn't reminded of her dull family, dull friends, and the overly dull bars that were her only chance of escape. Though, one would think that going to a bar called The Prancing Flamingo would be exciting or, if not exciting, at least flamingly gay. But, no, that was not the case. Jess laughed at her own little joke as her eyes scanned the other bar patrons. Yes, there were plenty of men, old men, men who after a long day at the office needed a drink, and men who were looking to score. But they were all straight or at least pretending to be. And then there were Jess and all of her friends. She was with a few girl friends and their guys. It was always better to go with a couple of guys to ensure a cock block.

At eighteen, (and a half, can't forget the half) she finally looked old enough that, with a good fake, she could get in almost anywhere. Tonight she wore only a hinting of makeup, a light pink blush coloring her cheeks and a clear gloss on her lips. She wore black flats on her feet as she was sure she would be walking to and from the bar and heels. No matter how cute/sexy/etc., heels were just not practical. Her black skirt ended just above her knees showing off her shapely legs. And she wore a tight red halter-top that showed just the right amount of cleavage.

Drink in hand and a smile on her lips, Jess' eyes found the bar tender/owner. She was a middle-aged woman who liked flamingos more then anyone. And she happily put them out on her home's front lawn making it the tackiest house on the block, but, at the same time, the most interesting to look at. She had moved into town after buying and renovating the bar to her liking. She was still new town and this worked in Jess' favor since everyone else in town knew Jess' age. Another drawback of living in a small town; everyone knew everyone's business and helped raise each other's children. There was no way the old bar owner would have let Jess and her friends even inside the door, but he'd moved to Florida to escape the cold winters thus giving Jess the opportunity to pull one over on the new woman.

Jess herself couldn't wait for the chance to escape the cold winters that made many of the elderly town members leave for greener pastures. She had been born in California, but her dad's work had forced them to move up to Washington right after she turned ten. Eight years ago she had been heartbroken to leave her childhood friends and now she was experiencing a similar feeling. In two short weeks she would be leaving for Stanford in Palo Alto, California. She was finally getting back to her childhood home. Originally the idea had been to get far away from her parents and heading back to California had been the icing on the cake. But it looked like fate wasn't on her side and her parents were going to be following behind, her dad having been transferred back. It had taken time, but Jess had gotten used to the idea of her parents being so close. She would have about two hours between them, so she would have the space to mature and grow, but they were close enough that, if she really needed them, they could come rushing to her aid.

Since she had only two more weeks, Jess' friends had insisted that they all go out to the bars. "Let's hit the town!" they had yelled excitedly, and then laughed until their sides hurt at the absurdity of the idea considering their whole town had only four stoplights. But going out was still better than drinking in someone's basement, so off they went.

"There are only so many places you can go when you're in West Bumblefuck," Dean mused to himself as he walked through the small town. He and his dad had just finished off some succubus that had been terrorizing the men a couple towns over and now all he needed was beer and somewhere to relax. John Winchester was back at the hotel nursing his own wounds and a bottle of Jose Quervo. He'd thrown Dean the keys to the car and told him to get out for a while.

Dean's shoulder was a little sore and he rubbed it as he walked towards the Prancing Flamingo. From the name of the bar, he was getting a little nervous, but he was so desperate for a get away that he pushed back any uneasiness and replaced it with curiosity. Besides there were worse things then if the place really did end up being some gay bar, so, pushing the door forward, he entered.

At twenty-two, Dean was just a little bit cocky and maybe more then a little bit proud. After all, he knew he was good looking and having all the female eyes following him around the bar only cemented the idea into his mind. He could get any of the women in the bar and probably a few of the men if he chose to swing that way. But with a choice, albeit slim, of delectable breasts and tight pussys awaiting him, he was fairly certain he wouldn't have to go down that road. But, aside from being proud, Dean was down to earth. He had seen too much evil, too much death to have any semblance of innocence. He rubbed his shoulder again, proving the thought in his mind.

Dean enjoyed the simple things like the mom and pop diners that were scattered across the US, and the bars there were filled with smoke and served beer cold. A nice cold beer and a game, or maybe two, of pool and Dean would call it a good evening. It would be a great night if the bar tender was a cute little thing that wrapped her thighs tightly around him as he slammed into her. And a perfect night would be if she didn't even bother giving him her name, knowing he wouldn't be there or remember it in the morning.

Tonight wasn't looking to be one of those prefect nights. One look at the woman behind the bar and his hopes for a nice quiet evening, well, except for his own grunts of pleasure and a nameless voice screaming his name, were dashed. Only one woman was behind the bar and she was definitely not cute or little and, while she grinned and checked out his butt, Dean grimaced at the thought of doing the same. But he plastered on a charming smile anyway and sauntered up to the bar. If she was interested, then maybe he could score a few free beers.

"Evening ma'am. A cold one, if you would," he said as he sat down at the bar. The woman, whose nametag read Tracey, smiled back at him and grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. Placing it in front of him, she smiled again, her eyebrows rising in lewd suggestion. Dean felt his cheeks blush slightly and the woman chuckled loudly causing a few of the other patrons to turn and see what the commotion was.

"Awe, honey." She paused and patted his cheek. Her hand was cold and a little wet and, as she pulled her hand away, some moisture was left on Dean's face. "You couldn't keep up with this old gal."

"You'd be surprised with what I can keep up with," Dean replied with a wink. Tracey laughed again and before Dean could blink there were two tequila shots being placed in front of him. The woman took one in her own meaty paw and gestured for Dean to follow suit. Then she clinked her glass against his in mock salute and threw the drink back. Drinking his own, Dean smiled contently as the warm liquor burned its way down his throat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw an older looking man motion for Tracey so he could place his order. With a final smile, she turned away from Dean and headed down the bar. "Those are on the house." Dean could hear the amusement on her voice and laughed softly. With his throat still tingling Dean turned to see of there were any other candidates to make this a perfect night.

Jess had seen him walk in. He was wearing tight jeans that accentuated strong thighs and a tight ass and a gray flannel button down with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. His face was attractive with a strong jaw and bright eyes that Jess could tell were green even while she sat at the other end of the bar. Some freckles were spotted across his face and she noticed more on the exposed flesh of his arms. She wanted to lick those freckles… A tug settled in the pit of Jess' stomach and a light gasp escaped her lips. She hadn't felt like this since she went out with Aden Murphy in her sophomore year and she let him go to second base while they made out in the back of the dollar theater that showed classics like Gone With the Wind and Godzilla Verses Mothman.

Her eyes stayed focused on him as he turned his head, scanning the bar like she had been doing before he came in. When his eyes fell on her, Jess smiled brightly and nodded her head once. Then she re-crossed her legs, causing her skirt to hike up a couple of inches. He grinned back, his eyes darkening, and Jess felt her smile grow. He sent her a wink and then motioned to his glass. Ah, the universal sign for: Can I get you a drink? It was the perfect excuse to go over to him, so Jess downed the rest of her sex on the beach and headed over to him, smirking at her girl friends as she walked past them to the bar.

He was laughing when she sat down next to him. Then he leaned in close to her ear and said, "You could have brought your drink over and saved me a few bucks." His warm breath tickled the small hairs on her neck and sent shivers down her spine. As he pulled his head away she placed her hand on his arm and responded.

"But drinks are always a little sweeter when someone else is paying." His laughter was deep and throaty and sounded good as it fell on her ears and her own laughter joined his.

"I suppose that's true. So… pick your poison."

Jess told him what she wanted; a rum and coke, and then he gave the order to the woman behind the bar, ordering something else for himself as he finished off his beer. "So what's your name?" he asked when he turned and gave her his full attention. To Jess, it was like they were the only two in the bar, well, except for the bar tender who was making their drinks.

"I'm Jessica," she said holding out her hand to him. "Everybody calls me Jess, though."

"Well, I'm Dean and everyone calls me Dean." It was a stupid joke, but it sounded clever to Jess at that moment and she laughed brightly. When she would look back on that night later in life, she would be pretty sure it was the alcohol that made her laugh so much that evening. Although Dean's witty charm did help. They chatted for a little while about different things and Jess kept finding excuses to touch him.

"I can't hear you that well," she would say and put her hand on his arm, leaning in close. Not only did she get to feel his warm muscle underneath her hand, but also his breath would wash over her as he spoke close to her ear. Then he would make some sort of joke and she would laugh and place her hand on his knee, each time just slightly higher then the time before.

Jess' skin felt like it was on fire. She was warm and getting warmer as the drinks kept flowing. The feeling in her stomach was getting stronger, growing from a twinge to a not-so-subtle ache. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was about half past one on the morning. Looking up from her watch, she noticed her friends standing next to her.

"We're heading home, Jessica," her best friend Lucy said, her voice holding a warning tone that Jess recognized. Lucy wasn't planning on leaving without her friend, but Jess wasn't planning on leaving without Dean.

"Okay." She smiled sweetly. "I'll call you tomorrow and we can do lunch."

"I think I should walk you home," was Lucy's blunt response.

Jess narrowed her eyes at her friend. "I'm fine, Mom, really," she tried to joke but her frustration was still evident in her voice. "I'm going to stay here a little longer and then I'll walk home. Not like I'm going far; just a few blocks."

Putting her hands on her hips, Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but then stopped. Turning her head, she looked at Dean and studied his face intently. "My uncle is the chief of police. If I call in the morning and she is not tucked safely in bed, alone I might add, he will be out looking for your sorry ass before you can say shit, fuck, ass, damn!" And with that Lucy grabbed her boyfriend's hand and headed out of the bar, calling out a farewell to Tracey who was cleaning empty glasses in the sink.

"Sorry about that," Jess murmured as the door to the bar closed.

"Naw. It's fine. It's good to see that your friends care so much about you."

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss them when I head off to Stanford." Jess had mentioned earlier that she was going to be a freshman in college which, of course, led Dean to question her age. Then they both did belated birthday shots as they laughed about having the same January twenty-fourth birthday.

"Stanford...," Dean mused. "My little brother's going there..." There was a slight pause in conversation before Dean questioned, "How about I walk you home?" Jess nodded once and smiled as they stood and readied to leave.

Dean let Jess lead the way out of the bar out of necessity, of course, since he didn't know where she lived. And he laughed out loud when she held the door for him with the comment, "Ladies first."

Part of him was surprised that he was walking her home. Usually he drove ladies home so they would have the opportunity to fool around in the back seat of his car, so Dean was settling himself with the idea that he would probably only get a goodnight kiss tonight. Another part of him was surprised that he was able to walk her home. When her friends had started towards them at the bar Dean had thought, 'Oh, here they come.' Then he'd taken another sip of his beer thinking, 'Here's to another night of wasted alcohol and to jerking off in the bathroom. I wouldn't even have had to go out to do that…' But then Jess had stood up to her friends and Dean quickly covered up his choke of surprise. Yes, there had been flirting between them and, yes, he was half hard just from looking at her, but she was still a baby. She wasn't some sleazy girl who regularly picked up guys at the bars. She screamed 'good girl' and proved the point when she told him of her college goals.

They were three short blocks from the bar when Jess stopped walking to sit down on the sidewalk. The lights that dotted the main road were still easily seen and lighting up the residential area they bordered. Jess patted the ground next to her so Dean sat down as well. Without looking at Dean, Jess casually laid her hand on his thigh, her thumb rubbing small circles on the top of his knee. She started to rub her hand further along his thigh, but Dean caught her hand. 'Maybe she's not so much of a baby after all,' he thought before saying, "Don't start anything you wouldn't want your neighbors to see."

Jess laughed loudly, her voice echoing off the houses along the block. "Yeah, I don't think Mrs. Williamson would appreciate that much. But then again, the reason she loves to spy on everyone is for moments like this."

Dean didn't respond. Instead he raised his hand to her chin, lifting her face so that he could capture her lips with his own. Her lips were soft and slightly parted, so he rubbed his tongue along her lower lip. When she parted her mouth more, he slowly pushed his tongue in to meet hers. He could taste rum on her tongue along with something sweeter. He had lost count of the drinks she had ordered and now realized something she'd consumed had been some fruity concoction.

Her hand was still on his thigh when he started kissing her, but it had quickly moved to his waist so that she could get her balance as more pressure was added to the kiss. Her hand gently gripped his shirt, pulling it slightly out of his pants. The trail her hand had taken burned Dean's skin through his jeans and his waist burned in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His erection had grown and was struggling against the zipper of his pants, and he shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Jess' other hand came up to settle at the base of his neck. The tips of her fingers were tangling and gripping his hair, her nails scraping his scalp. Dean's own hands had settled in two places; one on the grass to hold himself up and the other at the small of her back. He rubbed his hand back and forth slowly, the fabric of her top riding up slightly. His fingers teased the bare skin and Jess tensed underneath him.

"Sorry," she breathed, pulling away from him to lean her forehead against his neck. For a second Dean thought the night was over but then she continued, "I'm a little ticklish. Make that a lot ticklish." She laughed against his neck and he took that moment to rub his fingers gently against her, laughing himself as she squirmed against him. Instead of continuing to tease her, Dean maneuvered himself so that he could easily recapture her lips in a kiss. This kiss was stronger then the first and both of their tongues battled for dominance.

Then Dean's hand was on her stomach and he dipped a finger into her belly button. Jess laughed against his mouth, but continued to kiss him. Cautiously Dean moved his hand upwards until he brushed the bottom of her bra. Jess didn't say anything; negative or otherwise. She still didn't say a word as she reached behind her to unhook her bra and pulled it away to lay it on the grass. Then Dean could feel the soft skin of her breast and reached up more to capture it fully in his hand, rubbing his thumb against her nipple. Jess gasped, sucking his breath right out of his mouth. He continued to circle her nipple, feeling it harden underneath his touch.

A front porch light turned on behind them and Jess jumped away as quickly as possible. Hiding her bra underneath her skirt in time, they both turned to see the front door to a quaint, two-story house open up.

"Jessica Lee Moore!" a woman hissed. "You know your curfew is two. Get your butt in this house this instant!" and then the door closed as quickly as it opened but the light stayed on.

"Lee?" Dean questioned, a smile on his lips as he stood and offered Jess a hand. He couldn't help but smile since he couldn't even remember the last time he had been caught by a concerned parent.

"Yes, Lee. It's a family name," was the response that came as she grasped his hand and was pulled to her feet. In the light from the porch, Dean could see how red she was. She was red from embarrassment, but he knew there was some amusement there as well. No doubt her mother had been waiting for a juicy moment to interrupt. He watched her as she stuffed her bra into her handbag, safe from a mother's inquiring eyes, and smooth down her top. Then they both headed towards the porch.

"I'm sorry about that…," Jess said as she hopped up the first step of the porch.

"Don't be," Dean said, and he meant it. While this hadn't been his usual 'perfect' night, he had had fun and, aside from his ignored hard-on, was quite relaxed. It had been a nice evening.

"Maybe I'll see you again?" Jess looked him straight in the eyes as he questioned him. Dean wasn't sure why she asked since he was sure she already knew the answer. So instead of saying anything he leaned in and kissed her again. It held nothing of the earlier passion, but it was sweet and long. With one last peck on the lips, Dean turned away from Jess and headed back to the street, back towards the Prancing Flamingo where his car was waiting for him.

He heard the door shut behind him.

Part 2

"I'm going to class, so I'll be back around six," Jess called out as she grabbed her bag, hurried out the door, and slammed it closed behind her. It was a Wednesday in February of her freshman year and Jess was late, again, for her eleven am class. She had slept late because it wasn't like she actually wanted to go to her French class, but her school required some language proficiency, so she really hadn't had a choice.

Passing one of the campus clocks Jess saw that her class had already started, the clock saying two after eleven, and her teacher was a stickler for starting on time. Since she was already late, and another couple of minutes really wouldn't make much difference, she backtracked and headed for one of the school's cafeterias. Thank goodness her school had Starbucks products and the little green stands could be found scattered across campus.

Taking her place in line, she noticed that the guy in front of her was gargantuan. No, he was bigger then that. He was practically King Kong-like in size. Jess herself wasn't too short, standing at five foot five, but this guy made her feel like she was two feet tall. He reached over to grab a sugar packet and his hand was so big, Jess felt like he could hold her in just his palm like a puppy. His hair was brown and was kind of long, falling a little past his ears and flipping out at the ends. She couldn't see his face, but she heard his voice as he ordered his tall iced mocha latte. And that was it for Jess. It didn't matter what this person in front of her looked like. He was 'the one'. His voice made Jess melt inside and she was almost afraid her legs would give out. She needed to talk to him. 'Guess I'm not going to class,' she thought to herself as she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, could you be a doll and hand me a sugar?" The guy smiled, turning to look at Jess before turning back around to grab a few packets out of the sugar container. As he turned back, Jess held out her palm so that when he placed the packets in her hand his fingers brushed her skin. Her hand tingled underneath the touch and she grinned up at him, closing her hand so she was holding his fingers along with the sugar. He blushed but didn't say anything.

The cashier behind the register cleared her throat loudly and Jess pulled her hand away. Sugar still in hand, Jess moved to the next open register, sliding her open hand against his side and back. The guy turned his head to continue looking at her and Jess would have thought that he was just ignoring the clerk if he hadn't pulled out his wallet and hand her a twenty. Then he pointed at Jess and said, "I'll take hers, too."

Jess had to mentally slap herself, afraid that she was drooling at the sound of his voice. And, lucky for her, he was good looking as well as sounding like a sex god. His eyes were brown with flecks of green. Or were they green with flecks of brown. Jess wasn't sure. All she knew was that they were beautiful, even if they were small and a little squinty. His lips were a little thin, but completely kissable. And he had a slight five o'clock shadow even though it was only eleven in the morning. Actually it was ten after eleven Jess noticed as she glanced at her watch.

"Have somewhere to be?" the gorgeous King Kong asked.

She shook her head. "Nowhere but here, so it looks like you're stuck with me for a few more minutes.

Kong laughed softly. "Well, that's lucky for me." He blushed again. He took his change in one hand and held the other out to Jess. "I'm Sam Winchester."

Taking his hand, she responded, "Jess Moore. Nice to meet you, and thanks for the drink." She grinned when he didn't drop her hand right after she finished introducing herself. The cashier interrupted them again, holding out their two drinks. Jess pulled her hand away and took her drink. Sam did the same and then headed for a table.

"Would you like to sit down?" he questioned, putting his drink down and taking a moment to stuff his money back into his wallet, and then putting it in his back pocket. Jess put her drink down as well, and then slid her bag off her shoulder to place it on an empty chair. Then she sat down. Noticing her bag, Sam asked, "Were you going to class?"

"No, coming back from it," Jess fibbed. It sounded bad to not go to class just because she saw a cute-looking guy. But, then again, he was 'the one,' so it had to be right to stop for that. "What about you?" she asked, noticing that had nothing on him.

"Oh, I don't have any classes until this afternoon, but I woke up and needed something to drink. Are you in the freshman dorm?" Jess nodded. "Really? Me too."

"Wow, I assumed you were an upperclassman because you're so tall." Sam laughed and his laughed warmed her more then her white mocha did. "Yeah, you're practically King Kong which means, in my world, that's your new nickname, Kong." Sam laughed again, breaking out in a smile that took up half his face.

"Hey, that's fine with me as long as I get to come up with something for you."

"Sounds like a plan. But you know your name was easy, but I think you'll have to get to know me better to come up with something for me."

"I think I could do that…" Sam smiled and Jess knew she was in love.

The next time Jess looked at her watch it was twenty after two and she had missed her Shakespeare and Math class. She was sure that they would have talked longer if an alarm on Sam's watch hadn't beeped, signaling it was time for his Comparative Law class that had a strict attendance policy. Reluctantly they both stood, grabbed their long-empty cups, and Jess swung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Together they headed out of the cafeteria and stopped just a few steps outside of the building.

"Well, sadly, I still don't have a new nickname, but, if you want, I'll give you another chance to come up with one." That was it. She was the one going out on a ledge to ask for a date. She fidgeted nervously with her bag, waiting for an answer.

"I'd like that. How about this weekend? Dinner and a movie?"

"That would be perfect." Then, while she was brave because he had accepted her offer, she leaned up onto her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You can look me up on facebook. It's stalkerific," she grinned at the joke. Sam didn't respond, looking a little stunned by her actions. He had a slight smudge of lipstick on his cheek and Jess reached up and wiped it off, a chuckle escaping her lips. After the smudge was gone, Jess took a few steps back, ready to head to her next class. "I'll be waiting to hear from you. And you should know I was on my way to class when I ran into you. But it was much better to spend time with you than it would have been to sit in class." She laughed again as she revealed the truth. Then, with a quick wink, she turned away and headed to work.

Sam just couldn't believe his luck. He'd seen this girl, Jess, around campus. They'd even had a class together the previous semester. But he had sat in the front of the room while Jess had sat in the back. And she had never looked his way as she headed to her desk. Sometimes he'd watch her take her seat, amazed at how beautiful she was. She would take out her books and things and then turn the other girls seated around her, chatting about what she had done the night before. She seemed so at ease with everything, talking to everyone like she knew them well. And, for all Sam knew, maybe she did. And now she was talking to him.

Sam hadn't had much time for dating when he was in high school, not with moving to a new state every few months. Usually, if he were lucky, he would spend the fall quarters in one school and the spring quarters in another. But that wasn't always the case like when he was fourteen and went to five different schools in one year. But that's what happens when your dad's a demon hunter... and gets into a few too many bar fights. So Sam hadn't dated and really hadn't made friends, either. There just wasn't enough time. He usually wasn't even done unpacking his things in one apartment/hotel before they were packing to move to another. How could he bring guys over and try to explain why his things were still bundled together, only a handful of clothes and a toothbrush around his room? How could he try to explain that he probably wouldn't be back after Christmas break, so there was no point to getting settled?

This whole experience had caused Sam to be a bit shy. By the time he was done with the fall semester, he only knew a handful of people and they were more his roommate's friends than his. He was courteous to the guys on his floor, saying hi and bye when he passed them in the hall or in the community bathroom. Sure he wanted to make more friends, but it seemed like the conversations always headed to the topics like family and friends from home. And Sam had neither.

To say his father had been mad about his decision to go to college would be the biggest understatement of his eighteen years. Sam wasn't sure that he had ever seen his father so mad as when he showed him his acceptance letter to Stanford. John had gotten red in the face and stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence. He'd clenched his fists tightly and Sam prepared himself for a punch. He could have handled getting hit by his father, he'd earned a smack here and there as he grew up. But, when there was no collision of fist to cheek, Sam knew how upset his father really was. And he wasn't prepared for it at all. John stopped trying to express himself and just settled to sitting on the bed of the motel they were in, his face in his hands. They settled into an uneasy silence, neither wanting to make the first move.

Sam couldn't understand why his father wasn't happy for him. Didn't he want his son to make something of himself, to be something more then a hunter? He wasn't leaving to hurt his father. He was leaving to figure out who he was and what he could accomplish. He'd always been John's son, the baby of the Winchester family. He just wanted to be Sam.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back." John said finally after the two had been quiet for about an hour. Sam didn't respond, just nodded his understanding. That was fine with him if his father was going to act like that. He'd gained a full ride to Stanford and had already looked into housing rules for over Christmas break and summer vacation. If he were able to get a campus job, then he wouldn't have to leave Paolo Alto for four years. Then Sam grabbed his duffle bag and headed to the door. Part of him had hoped that his father would say something positive, or anything at all, as he opened the door and headed out, but nothing had come. It had been a lonely walk to the bus stop. His own brother hadn't gone with him since he too was upset with his baby brother's decision to leave. But when he got on the Greyhound headed for California, he pushed all the negative thoughts that he had about his family to the back of his mind. He would get along just fine without them and he was sure they would manage without him.

And Sam was happy at school. Sure it was a little lonely since he hadn't talked to his brother or father in months, but he was doing what he wanted. His classes were interesting and schoolwork took up a lot of his time. But that was the case for most of the pre-law majors. And it was nice to not have to worry about demons, ghosts, etc.

Sam was startled back into conversation when Jess asked him a question. How long had he not been listening? And what was the question? What was his major?

"Major? Oh, I'm in pre-law. Sorry, I zoned out for a second."

"Guess I'm not interesting enough to hold your interest." Sam was sure Jess was teasing but that didn't stop him from responding emphatically.

"Oh, no! That's not it at all. It was just… you mentioned your family and I started thinking about my own," he paused for a moment. "I haven't talked to them in a while." Jess just nodded, an understanding smile on her face. Sam was surprised she didn't push the issue, but was pleased at the same time. It wasn't something he wanted to get into just yet, and Jess must have sensed to back off that particular topic.

Sam was surprised at how comfortable he felt around Jess. The few friends he had tried to make had almost always been guys. He did have a little 'experience' with women, but that was only because he had spent his eighteenth birthday at a strip club courtesy of his brother. There he'd had a few too many drinks and there was a buxom redhead that held his interest for the night. Sue, the redhead, walked him back to his hotel the next morning and his brother had laughed for days after. So Sam was surprised at the casual flirting that passed between him and Jess. Maybe it was because she seemed so comfortable that he also started to relax. But, whatever the reason, it was nice.

Sam swore softly when the alarm on his watch went off, not wanting to leave Jess just yet. But then she asked him out and Sam felt himself grinning more then ever had in his entire life.

He'd been missing out with the whole dating thing.

Jess was a smart cookie. After all, she had to be to get into Stanford, but it still took her some time to figure Sam out. Even though they never ran out of things to talk about, he was a little secretive and she had no idea why. When they went out, she felt like she was baring her soul to him, trying to make him see who she was in every aspect of life, and he rarely did the same. He would talk about his goals and other issues like music and politics. She knew his likes and dislikes almost as well as she knew her own, but there was still something missing. It was never that he lied to her. No, she knew that he was always truthful because, when a conversation went in a direction he wasn't comfortable with, he had no problem saying that he wasn't ready to discuss it. He never made up stories to fill in the gaps about his past. She liked that about him, even if it was a little frustrating at times. She wanted him to feel that he could tell her anything. So, when Sam would stop talking about his own experiences growing up, Jess would rattle off plenty of her own. She truly believed that, at some point, he would tell her everything.

Jess knew that she had heard the name Winchester before. She just couldn't remember why. It wasn't until they had been dating for more six months that she realized they had met before. She had been in his bedroom, sitting on his bed when she saw the picture of his parents. She had seen the picture many times before since she spent as much time in his dorm room as she did her own, but she hadn't really looked at it. His mother was a beautiful woman, Jess noted, before changing focus to study Sam's father. As she studied John Winchester's face, she realized that she had met Sam before right after her family had moved to Washington.

The house her family moved into had had something else staying there and somehow Sam and his father had caught wind of the problem and headed in to help. She'd been terrified of what was going on in her house. Lights would flicker constantly and things would move around the house as though imaginary hands were holding them up. The worst part was that her parents hadn't been able to come up with a convincing story for Jess' questions and so they weren't able to comfort her. They had always said there weren't monsters under her bed or in her closet, but they'd been wrong. She wasn't sure if they were just wrong or if they had lied to her, but, after that, she had a little harder of a time trusting her parents.

Sam had been with his older brother and father and, to Jess, they came in like knights on white horses. Sam and his brother had calmed her down and taken her out for ice cream while their father cleansed the house. Even though the three of them had spent a couple hours together, for the life of her Jess just couldn't remember Sam's brother well enough, even though she had a clear recollection of Sam. He had been a lot shorter then he was now and had been pudgy, especially in the face. Jess had no idea when he got his growth spurt, but he had definitely changed because of it. The only reason Jess was sure that it was Sam that had come to rescue her was because his eyes were still the same.

After that realization, Jess realized why Sam was so reluctant to talk about his past. She doubted that many were proud of growing up killing ghosts and the like. Other little things clicked into place as well once she realized who Sam was. Suddenly it made more sense for him to be so knowledgeable of myths and legends from the US and the world. He had a knack for telling the most scary stories at the Halloween parties she dragged him to sophomore year. No one asked for stories Junior year, some of the girls claiming to have had nightmares the year before. And the little things like carving symbols into his bedpost and putting salt around his dorm room made sense. She hadn't really questioned it before, thinking the salt was something his wacky roommate had done instead of him.

After the poltergeist, Jess had also become interested in the paranormal and she tried to tell Sam, but he would avoid those conversations like the plague. Maybe he suspected that she knew, or maybe he remembered her like she remembered him and was still afraid to face the topic. But she didn't really believe that was the case. Maybe Sam didn't want to be with someone who couldn't protect themselves from the things that went bump in the night. But Jess quickly disregarded that idea also. If it were true, they wouldn't have ever started dating or living together. Maybe he thought, if he told her, Jess would want to help him, but that would never happen. Jess still shuddered at the memories of what had occurred in Washington and knew there was no way she could ever do the things he had done. So Jess settled with the notion that he was afraid she wouldn't understand and would leave him. But Jess loved Sam too much to leave over something like this. And he'd obviously put that part of his life behind him when he left for college, even if he still was a little paranoid about what could happen if he didn't put salt around the apartment. Jess also had a lot of respect for what Sam and his family did. They had helped her and her parents when she thought that nothing could save them and she was certain they had done the same for hundreds of other people over the years. Sam had done a lot of good and it had helped him become the person he was today. Jess wouldn't have wanted him any other way.

So Jess stopped trying to pry into his past. He would tell her when he was ready and she would explain that she always knew the truth. And then, hopefully, they would laugh at the time they missed not being one hundred percent honest with each other.

Part of Sam always felt like he was lying to Jess because he didn't tell her about his 'demonic' past. It was a side of himself he was sure he couldn't share. He wanted to. Goodness, he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to trust her with everything. He already trusted her with everything else. But telling her about what he had done before coming to college scared him. He was sure she would freak out and leave him, and he couldn't have that. He loved Jess and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.

He'd always been told to keep the Winchester family secret no matter what. People just wouldn't understand what they did. They would be judged and shunned more than they already were for their lifestyle. And it wasn't fair to take away society's innocence. People didn't need to live in fear.

Sometimes Sam wished that people did know what was out there. It would make the job a lot easier if they didn't have to lie to everyone, if they didn't constantly have to come up with new IDs, if they got paid for helping the needy. The thank-yous Sam and his family received over the years really did make the job worth it. It was a good feeling to know that they were helping people, saving lives. But money would have been nice, too. Then there would have been fewer nights were they were forced to skip dinner and they wouldn't have had to stay in roach-infested motels.

There were times when Sam was so close to telling Jess. The words would be on the tip of his tongue, dying to come out, but he would will them away. Maybe it wouldn't be too difficult to tell her the truth. After all, she just accepted his superstitious habits. While his freshman roommate had looked at him like he had three heads, Jess had laughed and joked with him as he put rock salt around the apartment they decided to rent together. After a brief explanation that spirits couldn't pass over a line of rock salt, Jess had grabbed a salt container and attacked the empty windowsills. For Sam, it was as close to the truth as he could get. There were other little things that Sam would do like chart the lunar cycle and keep track of mysterious murders in the area, though the second part was in secret, that Jess was genuinely interested in. When he had explained the lore about cat's eye shells, Jess had listened intently with more enthusiasm then he'd ever seen her put to her schoolwork.

And when it came to talking about family, Sam was just lucky Jess didn't ask a million questions about his past. She always just seemed content with what information he did give her, believing that, when he was ready, she would get the entire story. He hadn't given much depth to the story about his father and brother, just that they sort of did odd jobs to help people out. And, while his dad wanted both his sons to go into the 'family business,' Sam wanted to be a lawyer and do better for himself.

He had told her about the argument he had with his father, that he wasn't welcome home. He didn't mention that home had almost always been some random hotel room and that, even if he wanted to go and see his family, he would have a hell of a time figuring out what state they were in. Jess had understood, murmuring soft words of encouragement as it went from a simple story to Sam ranting about mad he was at his father. It was the first time he had been so honest with himself about what happened, and afterward he had been happy to share the experience with her. Sam really did trust Jess. He was just afraid of what her reaction would be if he told her everything.

But, as scared as he was that Jess would leave him when she saw the blood on his hands, Sam vowed that someday he would tell her everything.

Part 3

Jess felt the bed shift as Sam got up. She didn't hear his feet on the floor as he out of the room and she assumed he was trying to be quiet so to not wake her. But when the bathroom light didn't turn on she grew concerned of where he'd gone. Rubbing her eyes she sat up and looked around the room. It was only two a.m. Moving her feet off the side of the bed, she stretched before standing up.

Suddenly she heard something hit the floor and Jess froze, scared to continue forward. Was there something in the apartment? Had Sam gone ahead to protect her? Jess struggled with her fear for a moment as the shuffling and then grunting in the other room continued. He had to be fighting something. Then there were two voices coming from the living room. One was Sam's… and the other sounded familiar.

"Woah, easy, tiger," she heard the other voice say as she headed for the hall.

"Dean? You scared the crap out of me." Dean? They didn't have any friends with that name, so who was in the apartment? Realizing that whatever was in her home was human, Jess let out a long sigh of relief. She leaned against the doorframe that led to the bedroom, her blood still racing and a hard pounding sounding in her ears.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." There was a pause and then some more loud shuffling. What were they doing in there? It sounded like wrestling and she guess that's what they had been doing the whole time. Jess wanted to laugh since now here fear seemed so stupid. Maybe she was getting to be as paranoid as Sam. Then the rustling stopped and the other voice spoke again, "Or not. Get off me."

"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam sounded agitated while Jess continued to try and figure out who he was talking to. Now that she as a bit calmer, Jess continued towards the other room.

"I was looking for a beer."

She was a step away from the entrance into the living room when Sam and the other man came into view. Quickly she stepped back. She was lightheaded and the pounding was back in her ears. There was an unbelievable pressure behind her eyes and Jess pinched her nose trying to calm back down.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ok, all right, we gotta talk." It couldn't be him, could it?

"Uh, the phone."

"If I'd've called, would you have picked up?"

"Sam?" Jess called out, deciding it was time to make her presence known. She walked a few steps into the living room, flipping a switch to turn the lights on. She blinked a few times as her eyes got used to the light before letting her gaze settle on the two men in front of her. Seeing them both standing in the light cemented the idea that she had indeed met this Dean before. This was the same Dean who had been her going away fling before leaving Washington.

"Jess, hey... Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica." Jess didn't say anything for a second, her brain slowly catching up to the fact that Sam was even talking. He had introduced her before to friends and professors so there was no doubt in Jess' mind that this introduction was different. There was no way they both knew this Dean unless…

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess felt a little nauseous. Of course his brother.

Did he recognize her as well? "I love the smurfs." Yes he did and of course he would take the time to tease her. With a huge grin on his face Dean took a few steps towards Jess and, if her legs hadn't felt like they'd been nailed to the floor, she would have backed away. She didn't want him to stand to close to her. "You know I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league." She rolled her eyes slightly as he continued to tease her.

"Just let me put something on." Sure at one point Dean had had his hand up her top, but this was nothing like that night four years ago and Jess was uncomfortable under his gaze. Jess couldn't figure out how Dean wasn't freaked out by the whole turn of events. They had almost slept together. Well, Jess still wasn't sure that if given the chance she wouldn't have run away with her tail between her legs. But, then again, maybe Dean was just as freaked out but better at hiding it then Jess.

"Nah, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it... seriously." Jess wanted to cross her arms in front of her, to cover as much of her body as she could, but, instead, she smirked slightly, trying to play it cool. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend, here. Talk about some private family business." Dean smirked back. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No. No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." Sam finally felt the need to interrupt their little conversation. He moved to stand next her and put his hand on the small of her back. Jess leaned into the touch more then she normally did. Something inside her felt that she needed to prove that she was off limits.

"Ok... umm, dad hasn't been home in a few days." He'd visited to tell Sam that?

"So he's working overtime on a Millertime shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

There was a slight pause before Dean tried again, "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days." Sam tensed next to her and Jess turned her head to look at him, trying to read the emotions that crossed his face. In less then a second it clicked that 'hunting' was the analogy they used when going after ghosts and other things. Something had happened to John and Dean was here asking for help in finding him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside." She wasn't all surprised by this and, after he closed the door to the stairwell behind him, she leaned heavily against the door, hoping to hear some part of their conversation as they walked down the steps. But all she could hear was some garbled words that made no sense.

Would Sam leave to go looking for the father that practically disowned him for going to college? Jess wasn't sure why she even asked the question, sure of the answer before all the words had passed her lips. Yes, he would go. After all, John was his father, the only one he would get.

When she couldn't hear them talking anymore, she headed to the couch and lay down. Her head hurt.

Dean couldn't believe that Sammy's girlfriend was the same girl he had seen in Washington just a few years earlier. He was kind of surprised that he remembered her, but then again, for what it was, he had thought of that night frequently after he'd left Washington. His mind had been filled with 'what ifs' for weeks afterward as he remembered the feel of her breasts in his hand. He'd wished that he'd been able to get further with her and now that thought made him sick. This was Sam's girlfriend. Of course she hadn't been then. They hadn't even known each other then. But, still.

She looked a little more mature since the last time he's seen her, which wasn't exactly a shocker. She'd looked beautiful that night in the bar and now, just standing there in a top and boy shorts, Dean was amazed and blindingly hard in a second flat. Ok, so maybe the thought of Sam's girlfriend didn't make him quite as sick as he had hoped. But this wasn't high school where Dean would tease Sam and any girl he got the nerve to talk to. Sam was living with Jess, proving how serious he had to be about her.

Dean was thrilled with Sam's decision to go outside, unable to stay in the same room with Jess a minute more.

"Wait, you're taking off? Is this about your dad? Is he all right?" Jess questioned as she came in from the bathroom.

Sam wanted to kick himself when he heard the concern in her voice. He knew that she was confused, but he couldn't bring himself to clear up the cobwebs for her. Maybe when he got back… No, he knew that even then he wouldn't tell her. Quickly he fiddled with the clothes and weapons he'd put in his bag knowing he wouldn't be able to come up with a believable explanation if she saw them. That was the worst part of Dean breaking back into his life; now he was lying to Jess.

"Yeah, you know, just a little family drama." Well as least that wasn't a lie. It was the worst case of family drama since Dean was convinced that something horrible had happened to their father. In his head, Sam started a mantra of 'Dean's just crazy. We're going to find Dad, and he's gonna be fine.' He headed over to the dresser, needing a couple more shirts for the weekend. Even if the plan was to be away for a couple of days, Sam wasn't sure how much he should pack.

"Your brother said he was on some kind a hunting trip...," Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jess move past him towards the bed. Quickly he grabbed two shirts that were on top of the rest so he could get back to his bag sooner.

"Uh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin. He's probably got Jim, Jack, and Jose along with him. We're just gonna go and bring him back." He turned around to see Jess sitting on the bed her hand on the top of his bag, playing with the handles. He walked back over and tossed the clothes into the bag, shifting them so he could grab the handles and yank it closed.

"What about the interview?" Jess looked up at him. He had placated her with his answer about his dad, but there were still other concerns. They had been looking forward to this interview for about a month and now he was running the risk of missing it.

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." Dean had promised to take him back in time, but if the case proved difficult or there was something really wrong with their dad… 'Dean's just crazy. We're going to find Dad, and he's gonna be fine,' he said to himself again. He would make it back in time. Then he grabbed his bag and took a few steps towards the door.

"Sam, I mean, please, just stop for a second." He heard Jess get up and move away from the bed, so he turned to look at her. She was just a step behind him and, for a second, he thought they would bump into each other. "You're sure you're okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine." They both knew he wasn't fine, but what else could he say?

"It's just you wont even talk about your family, and now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them." She was giving him an opening, the perfect opportunity to explain everything, to explain the real reason he was going with Dean. He started to say something, but Jess continued. "And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal..."

He shook his head slightly, unable to bring himself to tell her to the truth. So instead he replied, "Hey, everything's gonna be okay. I will be back in time. I promise." Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. She smiled up at him as he turned away from her and headed out the door.

"At least tell me where you're going."

But he hadn't told her where he was going and Jess's imagination came up with all sorts of horrible situations that Sam could be walking into. The next few days passed like a blur. She wasn't sure why she bothered going to her Friday classes since she didn't listen to a thing that her professors lectured about. Twice in one class her teacher called on her for not paying attention and Jess didn't even offer an excuse or explanation. Then, when class was over, she just hurried out the door, ignoring her teacher's call for her to stay a few more minutes.

In the apartment she was a nervous wreck. She kept picking up her cell phone, holding it to her ear, just a button press from hearing his voice… well, if he answered. She wanted to speak to him, to know that he was alright, but she had to have faith that he would back as soon as he could.

Lying in bed that first night was horrible. They had been living together for more then a year and, except for a few times when Jess visited her parents without him, had slept next to him every night. She missed the warmth of his body lying next to her and how he would unconsciously move closer to her and put his arm around her. She missed being able to speak to him at all hours of the day and night. She just missed him.

Sunday didn't come soon enough and she spent the whole day anxiously waiting for Sam's return. She sat on the couch facing the door for hours, staring at the door, willing it to open and have him behind it.

Enough was enough at that point and Jess swore that, when he came back, when he was safe inside their home and she was able to wrap her arms around him, to kiss him, and know that he was back for good, she would tell him everything. She would tell him that she knew about his 'dirty' little secret and that she didn't care. She would tell him that she loved him and would always love him not matter what.

At some point Jess fell asleep on the couch and, when she woke up, it was dinnertime. He still wasn't back. She contemplated going out, but couldn't bring herself to leave the apartment. But she was going to go crazy if she sat there any longer. So she got up and headed for the kitchen, her stomach growling in agreement. She opened the fridge and the light in the back flickered for a moment. Reaching in, she tapped the bulb until it stopped. "Stupid refrigerator…" she murmured as she grabbed the milk and a couple eggs. Then she made herself a simple dinner omelet. Even though she was hungry, she was also sick with worry. She didn't know how much she would be able to keep down and didn't want Sam to come home to her throwing up in the toilet.

They had a radio in the kitchen because Jess liked to listen to music while she cooked and so she turned it after she turned off the stove. She didn't recognize the music on the station, no doubt in her mind that it had Sam that changed it to the classic rock station. As much as he gripped about music from the sixties and seventies, Jess found that he listened to it quite often. She didn't bother changing the station, letting the music wash over her. She pretended that he was sitting at the table and she could see him tapping his fingers against the table in time of the music.

She ate slowly, having no reason to rush out of the kitchen. It was halfway through some song about Godzilla when the radio turned to static. Jess turned to look at the radio, but a second later the music was coming in clear again. This didn't bother Jess because, in bad weather, they had a hard time picking up any stations and, since the music was again coming in strong and clear, she didn't think there was a problem. When she was done eating, she looked at the clock. It was half past eight. She needed something to do. So, after putting her dishes in the sink, she went back to the fridge and grabbed some more milk and eggs. She decided to make some chocolate chip cookies, knowing they were Sam's favorite.

As she mixed the batter for the cookies, Jess had a strange feeling that someone was watching her. She constantly lifted her head to look around the kitchen, but every time0 she was alone. After the third time of finding no one, Jess attributed her nervousness to her worry for Sam. She just felt more safe when he was in the apartment with her she had been alone for too long. After putting the cookies in the oven Jess went into the bedroom and put on a nightgown. Usually she slept in a top and her underwear, but the bedroom was chilly, so she put on something warmer. It wasn't until after she was changed that she realized she needed to shower. She had some flour in her hair and, because of the heat in the kitchen, she felt sticky all over. But she decided to wait until after the cookies were ready. That way she could take as log as she wanted and not worry about burning the cookies or setting the apartment on fire. So she went back to the kitchen where the radio was still playing and sat back down at the table. She was getting good at this waiting thing.

It took forever, but the oven finally dinged telling her that the cookies were done. Grabbing an oven mitt, Jess pulled out the cookie sheet and breathed in the scent of melted chocolate. Her mouth started to water at the sight of them as she placed the sheet on top of the oven to cool. It would only be a couple more minutes before they could be eaten and Jess really wanted one. Since she had a minute Jess went into the living room and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She'd write a little note to Sam in case he came in while she was in the shower.

The radio was playing static again when she went back into the kitchen, so she went over and shut it off, the silence echoing around the apartment. She nudged a couple of the cookies, making sure they were cool before grabbing one and popping it in her mouth. It tasted good and Jess smiled at her accomplishment. She put the rest of the cookies on a plate and put it in the living room where she was sure Sam would see them, and then headed for the bathroom. It was time for a nice warm shower.

Jess grabbed some clean underwear, and then headed for the bathroom. She turned on the water, giving it a chance to heat up before she got in it. The floor was cold underneath her feet and Jess shivered, a chill running down her spine. She decided she wanted something warmer to sleep in so she went back into the bedroom. She was a step away from the dresser when the feeling of being watched came over her stronger then before. She turned to look behind her when an invisible force pushed her against the wall.

Jess' eyes went wide with fright as she struggled to get away from the wall. But she couldn't budge even the slightest bit. This was far scarier then the poltergeist had ever been and Jess cursed for not putting salt on the windowsills while Sam was away. It was usually his nighttime ritual and Jess almost never did it herself. She let out a strangled cry and she felt herself be lifted off the ground.

When her head bumped the ceiling, she was sure that she heard the door to the apartment open. Sam was home. He would save her. Jess continued to move by way of invisible hand until she was situated over the bed that she and Sam shared.

"Jess?" she heard Sam call and she tried to answer. "Are you in the shower?" she heard him question. She was sure that if he hadn't heard the water he would have been more concerned at her not answering. A second later Sam entered their bedroom and Jess tried again to call to him but was unable to him. As he sat and then laid down on the bed Jess noticed his eyes were shut. He didn't see her.

Then she felt an unbearable pain in her abdomen. Tears welled up in her eyes and her vision was blurred, but she still saw drops of crimson fall onto Sam's forehead. Her blood. Sam finally opened his eyes and looked up her, his eyes meeting hers instantly.

"Jess! No!" he yelled, and then Jess felt overwhelmed by heat. Flames burst forward and Jess could feel herself being consumed by the fire. There was no way Sam was going to be able to save her. Sam was half on his bed reaching for her, grief evident on his face. Jess wasn't sure what hurt more; knowing that she was going to die or knowing that she wouldn't even get to tell Sam that she loved him one more time, or kiss him again.

Or that she'd never get to tell him the truth; that she knew the real Sam the whole time.