One. No One Knows What it's Like

"Please, Eric. Just let me have five minutes with him." Jessica Taylor pleaded with her friend as she looked at the man on the other side of the glass chained to the table. Her southern accent rang through the corridor outside of the interrogation room.

"That's a bad idea Jess, and you know it. I know Beth was a friend of yours. This case is too personal for you." Agent Eric Jameson warned, flipping through the file in his hand.

"Let me ask you Eric. Do you have a best friend?" she asked turning to face the agent standing beside her. She could see the empathy on his face, but it didn't phase her.

"I do. Look, I can't begin to understand what you've been going through these past few months, but you can't let this take over your life." He said, closing the file.

"You're right. You can't understand. But try to understand this: Beth wasn't just my best friend. We were closer than sisters. Her parents died when we were ten. My parents took her in. Ten, Eric. There wasn't a moment of my life where Beth wasn't there. You want to tell me this is personal, well, you're damn right it's personal. If it were up to me, I'd put the needle in him now. Of course, that might be too humane after what he did to her." Her voice got cold.

"Jess, comments like that will get you off this case in a heartbeat. You need to check yourself before you go any further. Now I have all the compassion in the world for your situation, but you are not above the law. We're going to get this guy Jess, but we're going to do this by the book. I'm not going to let him get acquitted on some bullshit technicality, you understand?" Jameson said sternly. "Now, I'm willing to let you go in there, but the minute I start to feel uneasy, I'm pulling you out." Jessica nodded, thanks in her eyes as she took the file Jameson handed her and walked towards the door.

"So, Wesley Crandall… You've given us quite the run-around now wouldn't you say?" Jessica began, walking toward the criminal bound in front of her.

The man roamed his eyes up to meet hers and forced a half-smile. "Sending in a rookie now huh?"

"Oh, I'm no rookie. I'm Dr. Jessica Taylor. I'm a forensic psychologist working with the FBI, and I have to tell you Wesley, you are one interesting specimen. I've been putting together your profile for months and now to have you here in front of me? Well, now today is the best day of my life."

"So you're like my number one fan huh?" Crandall leaned back in his chair watching the look on her face. He was starting to worry about the situation he was in now, but he couldn't let it show. That damn shape-shifter… killing people with his face. This was certainly making his job a hell of a lot harder that it already was.

"That's right. Keep it up funny boy. Keep cracking jokes. You're gonna end up on death row where that sense of humor will certainly come in handy." Agent Jameson said as he entered the room. "I got this, doctor." Jessica gave him one last glare before leaving the room.

"Damnit!" she yelled as she slammed her office door. She could feel the tears coming to her eyes and she choked them back immediately. She knew in her heart that this was the guy… this was the man that tortured and killed her best friend and he was so damn smug about the whole situation.

"So I met this guy today… he's definitely a dime." Beth grinned from ear-to-ear as she pulled multiple outfits from her closet. "I'm meeting him for dinner and you have to help me! I can't figure out what to wear!"

"Oh please, Beth. You have more clothes than anyone else on this planet. So who is this guy?" Jessica asked her best friend from the bed she was sitting on.

She felt like she was going to be sick. How could she deal knowing that she just looked into the same eyes that Beth looked into right before she died? Beth was so full of life; she had this desperate need to make everyone happy. Her laugh was infectious and her smile alone could light up a room. Who could do this to her? There was a special place in hell for people like Wesley Crandall and Jessica was sure she would be the one to send him there.

Jessica ran her hands through her hair while gathering her thoughts one last time before she heard a knock at her office door making her jump a bit at the sound. She turned around to see a rather tall man in a suit carrying a briefcase standing at the door.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." The man said softly with a polite smile. He extended his free hand to Jessica and she took it. "My name is Sam Jefferson. I'm here to see my client, Wesley Crandall." Any trace of a smile Jessica had on her face was immediately wiped away at the sound of his name.

"Dr. Jessica Taylor. Your client is in the interrogation room right now and with any luck, he's telling the story of how he mutilated a poor woman back in April. Good luck getting him out of this one, counselor." She glared daggers at the lawyer standing in front of her.

"Huh. How about you just show me where I can find him… please." He scoffed.

After Sam kicked Jameson out of the interrogation room to talk to his client, Jameson received a call prompting him to leave the station with the only other detective in the office. This left Jessica with an extreme opportunity… a very illegal opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless. She looked through the window at Crandall with his lawyer and turned the volume up to listen in on the conversation.

"-that son of a bitch. This is really starting to get on my nerves." Crandall said angrily.

"Yeah, well, you may just have to sit this one out. Honestly, I don't know what we're gonna do." The lawyer responded.

"The hell I am. We're getting me out of here, Sammy." Jessica's brow furrowed in confusion. It was obvious these two knew each other on a deeper level than just client/lawyer.

"So what do you suggest? Because I'm drawing a big blank here. I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in here, Dean. I mean, this is serious."

Dean? Sam? Where have I heard those names before?

"Yeah, I get it. I'm cuffed to a table… this is bad. But you know… these things have a way of working themselves out." Dean said ever so nonchalantly.

"Working themselves out? This is yet another murder you've been accused of, and you're banking on it 'working itself out'. Well, I'm glad you've got this figured out. I'll just wait back at the motel." Sam mocked.

Sam. Dean… Lightbulb. Hendrickson. Jessica walked to the nearest computer and found the names she was looking for. Winchester.