Disclaimer: It's Kripke's world. I'm just a constant visitor.

Author's Note:This story takes place PrePilot and is in Jess's persepective. That said, Dean is not directly in this story, but I hope everyone still feels his presence indirectly. For those who choose to read, I hope you enjoy!! Feedback is always welcome as well!

Important: I wrote this completely unaware that Jess and Dean's birthdays were on the same day. That said, in this story, Jess's birthday is not on the 24th of January.

A special thank you goes to Sweet-destiny3 for her comments.

Anyway, now on with the story…

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A Missing Piece

By: Pinkchick

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Jessica Moore had never seen a picture of Dean Winchester. Had never even heard his voice. She wouldn't have recognized Sam's brother if he'd walked by her on the street.

But over time, she had come to accept the fact that it would never happen.

For a long time she had given Sam the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was embarrassed about his family. Jess had given him multiple chances to open up, to say anything about the family he kept hidden in the dark.

She would usually try and get him to open up by starting a conversation about her own family. Jess would talk endlessly about them. Sam would smile his dimpled smile and nod, like he understood.

But he would never say anything. Not a thing. Sam's eyes would just go dark and unfocused. His mind would wander to a far off place.

A place Jess felt she would never really get to be a part of.

It was just as well. It was like pulling teeth. And she was sick of it.

They were in the living room of their shared apartment, quietly studying—or rather, cramming—for a big test tomorrow. They were munching on the usual de-stress goodies: junk food. Sam was head first in his textbook, while Jess kept reading the same line over and over again.

She sighed and closed the book, her eyes straying over to the picture of Sam's parents he kept on the mantle. It was the only real personal item he'd put in the whole apartment. It unnerved Jess.

One photograph drew a picture of Sam's past. Just one. Nothing else.

Sam looked up, his eyes concerned. "Jess, you ok?"

"Yeah," Jess lied. She sighed. "I just need a break, that's all."

Sam's eyes followed her as she got up and made her way to the mantle where the picture sat. She examined it closely. John and Mary Winchester looked so happy, smiling at the camera. There were no pictures of Dean anywhere in the apartment. Only a casual mention of him once or twice.

When she turned around, Sam's brows were furrowed and he was looking at her warily, guardedly. "Jess?" he asked softly.

"Sam, tell me about your brother." Sam's surprised eyes went wide. Jess couldn't believe she'd let the silent question slip. It seemed curiosity had finally gotten the better of her. "Just… what was he like?"

The room suddenly grew cold. Sam's eyes narrowed quickly and turned dark, staring at her from underneath suddenly hard features. Jess was taken aback. She had never seen that look on Sam before, especially not directed at her.

Maybe she shouldn't have asked.

"Sam? I'm sorry, I just…."

Sam jutted his jaw, shut his textbook loudly, and without a word or a look in Jess's direction, walked quietly out of the room.

Jess had never been good at playing pool. Sure, Sam had given her a couple of lessons here and there, but nothing had ever come of it. Sometimes, the competition would get tough, but Sam would pretend he wasn't any good at it, call someone's bluff, and win anyway.

"Where'd you learn to play so well?" she had asked him once.

Sam had just shrugged and waved his hand dismissively. "Dean taught me when I was a kid. Said it'd be useful one day." He had snorted and closed his eyes, changing the subject quickly afterwards.

Now, Jess was watching Sam watching Zack and a few others play. He was moving a miserable fry through his ketchup, only pausing to take a swig of his beer. They were sitting in the corner of the bar, the dim lights casting shadows across Sam's face. His features looked calculating and he hadn't spoken a word all evening.

Jess sighed.

Between terrorizing his fries, and watching their friends play pool, Sam kept drawing quick glances at his phone. As though it would ring at any moment and put him out of his misery. His eyes were contemplative and far away.

Jess knew better than to say anything, so she just continued to watch Sam.

He'd been acting weird the past few days. The spring semester had just started, and everyone was still energetic and excited about it. Everyone except Sam.

Days passed. January twenty-first, twenty-second, twenty-third.

It was January twenty-fourth and Sam's mood hadn't really improved. He was being completely anti-social, and that scared her.

The fry Sam had been abusing finally made it past the ketchup and into his mouth. He chewed silently. His actions of late had made her even more curious about his past, but she hadn't pressed after the reaction he'd given her a few days ago.

Jess had become more perceptive ever since they had started living together.

There was the fact that Sam moved as light as a feather wherever it was he walked. There were the secretive conversations he would have late at night or really early in the morning. They had become a lot less frequent over the last year, and had completely stopped a few months ago.

And when darkness fell, Sam always seemed to have a weather eye out. Always walking a few paces behind her, glancing around as though suspecting something to come out of the dark. And he always carried a knife in his right boot.

After being privy to these actions, Jess realized he did all of them unconsciously.

She was suddenly startled out of her reverie by Sam's low voice. "Dean used to put M&M's into my food to get me to eat." That wasn't what she had been expecting.

Jess turned her full attention to Sam. He was still staring at his phone. "Always let me have the last pack, even if there wasn't anything left for him to eat. Unless there was pie." He snorted. "Then he wouldn't let me share."

Jess smiled sadly. She didn't have any siblings, but she surmised that Sam missed his brother. Probably more than he was willing to let on.

"He was always just… there." Sam stared hard at the phone, his fingers tracing the edges.

Jess glanced suspiciously at the few bottles of beer next to her boyfriend and wondered if it was liquid courage making him talk. Either way, it was an improvement than moody Sam. "He tried to make a real Christmas for us once when Dad was away h—on a job. Got presents and a tree and everything. Dean tried really hard. Always watching."

Sam picked up the phone and turned it in his hand with surprisingly lucid eyes. "Made me do my homework even though he thought school was a waste of time. Convinced me to help him write a paper in Latin once. Thought it'd be funny. Dad didn't think so after getting a phone call from the teacher."

A lazy smile graced his face. It was the first one Jess had seen when Sam brought up his family.

"You know Latin?" she asked, leaning forward, her eyes curious. The information Sam had spilled, intentional or not, was going to be tucked away for later.

Sam paused, seeming to come to himself and looked up at her through hooded eyes. He put down his phone, his eyes still on the screen. Sam blinked and the look she had seen there before was gone.

Abruptly, he stood up and grabbed his coat. "You ready to go?" He put a few bills on the table and started forward.

Jess nodded wordlessly. She reluctantly followed Sam out, who was still clinging to his phone like a lifeline.

She racked her brain briefly. There wasn't anything special about today. No holiday or anniversaries. No birthdays she'd accidentally forgotten.

But as she watched Sam put his phone away sadly, Jess couldn't help wondering if she had missed something important.

"Hey, Sam, there's one more box left," Jess called. She eyed the box. It wasn't labeled.

"I'm coming," Sam shouted from down the hall.

Jess bit her lip. She would just grab the box and take it into the living room. She wouldn't pry.

She and Sam were doing their first spring cleaning of the apartment they shared. There was a lot of stuff they'd thrown out, and a lot of things they'd kept. Mostly, it had been a few days of reminiscing over all the old artifacts they'd found.

They were moving all the boxes to the living room and looking through them there. The lone room in the back of the apartment was dusty and disgusting and definitely not a place she wanted to sit in. It was their poor excuse of a storage room anyway.

Bending down, Jess picked the box up and lifted. On her way out the door, she stumbled and tripped.

Sam's box and some of its contents spilled onto the floor. Cursing, Jess bent down and began collecting everything so she could put it back. A paper with a large red "A" caught Jess's attention and she picked it up.

It had been written by Sam and was dated 1997. She read the first line.

Last summer, my family and I hunted a werewolf.

Jess's eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion. A werewolf? Had Sam written a paper about the fictional adventures of the Winchester family? It didn't matter, she continued reading, intrigued.

She was halfway finished when Sam walked into the room, eyes all dewy and concerned. They immediately changed when he saw Jess sitting on the floor, the essay still in her hands.

"Jess?" Sam asked, confusion lacing his voice. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, uh, nothing." Jess stood up slowly, glancing between the papers in her hands and Sam. She held up the essay and Sam took it, eyes staring hard at her. "It was really good actually. You've got a good imagination."

It had also given her indirect insight into his family, but she wouldn't tell him that. Dean was… well, he teased Sam a lot, but it was always with underlying care and protectiveness. Jess didn't know if Sam wrote him that way on purpose or if it was something unconscious.

Sam's eyes strayed to the essay now clutched in his hand and swallowed. He sat down on the dusty, old chair behind him and began flipping through the pages. Jess sat back down on the floor and resumed picking up the other discarded items, placing them into the box, her eyes carefully watching Sam.

Jess didn't know how long the silence stretched, but when Sam did finally speak, his eyes were still glued to the essay.

"I wrote this for my English class." He traced the lining of the paper, and Jess scooted closer. "The teacher there was the one who inspired me to go to college."

Jess didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent, allowing Sam his nostalgia.

"I don't think Dean ever took me seriously about that, but he didn't go against me, either," Sam said, running a hand through his disheveled brown hair. "He always used to tell me he'd always be happy with what I did, even if Dad wasn't."

"It sounds like he was a good big brother," Jess inserted softly, her hands wrapped around her knees.

Sam looked at her strangely, as though only now realizing she had been there listening. Instead of closing up, though, he grinned sheepishly.

"He was… is. But he was a huge pain in the ass when he wanted to be, too." Sam was still grinning, his dimples deepening. "He paid a girl to go out with me my senior year of high school 'cause he thought I wasn't getting enough action."

Jess laughed. Dean did sound like quite a character, all right. "What happened?"

"I found out about it and when I told him off, he acted like there was nothing wrong with what he'd done." Sam shook his head, smiling and sounding frustrated at the same time. "Told me to stop getting all emotional and to cut my hair 'cause it looked like a sissy girl's; then handed me twenty bucks to take out the next attractive girl I saw and walked away."

Jess couldn't help it, she giggled, shaking her head. Sam looked both amused and pleased with himself.

"He would've liked you though," Sam said, lowering the essay and aiming his eyes directly at hers.

Jess's eyes brightened and she smiled uncertainly. "Really?" She didn't miss the usage of the past tense.

"Yeah, after informing me that you're completely out of my league and flirting with you. In front of me." Sam paused, frowning. "And not necessarily in that order."

Jess laughed again softly. She'd been thinking about something for awhile, and feeling bold, she voiced it. "Will I ever get to meet him?"

Sam grimaced and looked away. "Jess, it's… complicated."

"It doesn't have to be, Sam. He's your brother," Jess pushed, standing up. She grabbed his essay and placed it gently on the top of the box.

"I know," Sam whispered, his eyes on the floor. "I know." Something in him suddenly shifted and he stood up, grabbing the box on his way up.

Jess knew the conversation was over. Sam's whole body language had changed. Minutes ago he had been so open. Now, he'd closed the door on his family, and shut her out once more.

"C'mon, let's get this to the living room before we die of dust intoxication." Sam bent down and kissed her cheek before moving out of the room.

Jess sighed and looked around the now empty room. Whatever had transpired between the brothers, she would never know. What she did know was that Sam loved his brother; and from what she'd gathered so far, Dean felt the same.

Maybe one day Jess would get to personally meet the infamous Dean Winchester. But, until then, she would hold onto what she'd already gained.

A piece of Sam's heart.

The End.