The idea for this was given to me by a friend of mine, it's set while Sam is away at college. It's going to be maybe about three or four chapters I think, not long.
In this Dean is 24, and Jamie is 20.
Lyman, Nebraska. 11:46pm.
Dean headed into the small, darkened bar, the only one that he had found in the small town so far. It was almost midnight, the long drive there had left him needing a beer before he went and found himself a motel to stay in. He glanced around the room slowly, it was quiet with only a few other people scattered around, most of them either in couples or keeping to themselves. He came to a stop at the bar and nodded over to the guy standing behind it, ordering himself a beer. His green eyes travelled between the different people there as he waited, completely stopping when they fell to the girl sitting at the other side of the bar. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide and unblinking at the completely startling sight.
"I don't believe it." he whispered to himself, refusing to blink as though he thought that she might vanish into thin air if he did.
He stared straight at her, narrowing his eyes a little and leaning forwards to get a better look. For a second he thought that he had to be hallucinating, that it was a mistake or just a very strange coincidence, that there was no way that it could be happening. But there she was, sitting and looking down at the beer in her hands, completely oblivious to the hunter that couldn't tear his eyes away from her. The girl who had walked out on them, on him. The girl who had never bothered to call and let them know that she was alive, the girl who had turned her back on her own family at the age of sixteen. His own little sister.
It was Jamie.
He almost hadn't recognised her. What had been pale skin was now tanned. Her once light blonde hair now reached halfway down her back and was dyed jet black. The bangs that she had once graced over her forehead were moved to the side, the waves completely straightened. She looked entirely different. More than that, she looked lost. Dean couldn't help the concern at the thought, he wanted, needed, to know where she had been all that time. It had been four years since she had walked out on them and he wanted to know what she had been doing. He wanted to know that she was okay. He grabbed his beer and headed around to the other side of the bar, sliding onto the bar stool beside hers.
"Hey, stranger." he greeted simply, the first words he had said to her in four years.
Even looking at her from the side he noticed that her eyes were still the same bright green colour that they had been when she had been a child. But something else jumped out at him, they looked a little bloodshot, like she hadn't slept in about a month. There were dark circles beneath them, she looked exhausted.
Jamie visibly tensed. She wasn't quite sure how many beats her heart skipped at the sound of the familiar voice, she was certain that it had stopped for a moment, something dropped in her stomach. She didn't dare to look up to who she knew was now sitting beside her, she couldn't.
The colour had completely drained from her face and left her a pasty white colour. "Dean." she said flatly, never once looking away from the beer in her hands as she spoke.
Dean smiled a little, taking a drink of his own beer. He couldn't comprehend it, she was alive. All the years that he had spent asking himself that same question and there she was, she was okay. She was alive and breathing and she was just fine. At least, she looked it.
"Long time, no see." he commented lucidly.
She gave a small nod, almost unnoticeable. "Are they here?"
There was no emotion at all in her voice, she appeared completely blank. He could've sworn that she had asked it in a way that made him think she wanted him to say no, that she was going to be relieved when he told her no. He didn't understand that. He didn't get why she seemed to want to distance herself from her family.
"No," He frowned a little at the question but he didn't press it. "I'm on my own."
Jamie looked down. "Where's Sam?" she asked. There was something like a mixture of curiosity and dread in her question, but she covered it well enough that no one else would have picked it up. He could tell that she was still concerned about him.
"He's at Stanford," Dean answered. "Got a full ride, he's gonna be a lawyer apparently." He shrugged and took another drink.
Jamie nodded again. "Good for him." she muttered.
There was no pride in her voice, no happiness, still no sign of emotion at all. There had barely been any since he had sat down, and that was starting to disturb him a little. It was like he was sitting with a zombie. He hadn't seen her in four years yet she seemed even more shattered than ever. He had known that she had been a little down in the weeks before she had left, she had kept herself to herself, she'd been quiet and reclusive, but he had put that down to being a teenage hormone thing, she had been a sixteen year old girl, it happened. But then she had walked out and he had thought maybe it had been something more. There hadn't been a warning, no sign or heads up, she had packed a bag one day and walked out on them, no explanation. Now, she appeared completely void of feelings, or at least the good ones.
"Yeah," Dean said, a little unsure of what to say to her. She didn't seem willing to speak to him, like she was forcing out her answers just for the sake of it and they were taking up all of her energy. "So Dad went off on a hunt a few days ago and he told me to find myself a case."
Jamie huffed. "And you ended up on this one," she mumbled into her beer. "Just my luck."
Dean ignored the sarcasm. "I know," he said, matching her tone, a level of annoyance playing on his reply. "Must be your lucky night, right?"
She scoffed. "Yeah, well I've got this, so you can go."
"Oh no, sweetheart," Dean countered. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Fine." She placed the beer down on the bar and turned on the stool. "Then I'll go."
"Really?" Dean turned and raised his eyebrows at her. "You're gonna walk out on a case? That's professional."
Jamie sighed, clearly defeated, and turned back to the bar. "It's just business." she said, her tone hard.
Dean shrugged. "Fine."
"And when it's done, we are done." she said with a little more force, like she wanted to make sure he got the message.
He regarded her for a moment and sighed. "Fine." he said again.
Jamie released a deep breath and pulled a hand down her face. "Alright, the hunt, it's a spirit. I already know who it is, I just need to find out where the body's buried and burn it. It's simple." she informed him. "Still no need for two of us." she added, like she was in the hope that she could get him to change his mind.
Dean ignored her. "Have you talked to the family?" he pressed. "The cops? Checked the local records?"
She glared at him. "I'm not an idiot, Dean. Believe it or not, I know how to hunt." she retorted. "The sheriff's gonna find out and call me tomorrow."
He noticed that she had barely looked at him since he had sat down. She hadn't once managed to look him in the eyes. She had kept her focus solely on the bar in front of her, her attention fixated on the beer bottle in her hands as though it was the most interesting thing in the world to her.
Dean nodded slowly. "Great, we got a whole night to catch up then, haven't we? You first." he said sarcastically, not even expecting an answer.
"You know, as tempting as that sounds, I was on my way out when you walked in, so," She shrugged. "Bye, Dean." With that she drank the last of her beer and hopped off the bar stool, turning towards the door and crossing the bar towards it without looking back.
Dean shook his head to himself and followed her. He couldn't understand it, he didn't understand why she seemed to hate him so much. One minute they had been fine, they had been like the best of friends, and the next she had packed up a bag and she was leaving them behind, no explanation or warning. She hadn't called, she hadn't gotten in touch, she had never found them again, honestly a part of him thought that she had gotten herself killed, that had been the only logical reason he could think to explain why she had completely cut them from her life.
"Where are we going?" he called after her as he followed her out onto the dark parking lot.
"I don't know where you're going," she said over her shoulder. "I'm going back to the motel."
"Great, I'll drive." Dean suggested brightly, hoping to lighten her mood.
He watched as her eyes fell to the Impala, lingering there for a moment before she shook her head. There was a look on her face, something like fear, before she composed herself and took a step back. "No, I'll drive."
"Jamie -" Dean went to argue but she got there first.
"Listen, either I'm driving or you're following." she snapped before he had a chance to say more than her name. "I am not getting in that car."
Dean shook his head at her. "The hell happened to you?" he muttered, looking over her slowly. Jamie sighed, like he was doing nothing more than wasting her time. "When did you become such a bitch?"
Jamie scoffed, her patience was now clearly gone. "Goodbye, Dean." she mumbled, turning on her heel and walking off towards her car without a second thought.
Dean blinked, he was nothing but lost. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait up." He jogged after her when she didn't stop. "If it's that damn important you can drive." he said, slowing down to walk beside her.
"Great," she replied simply. "Was that really so hard?"
The drive back was tense, the only sound that filled the car was the low talking of the people on the radio. Dean wasn't sure what to say, he was pretty sure that any attempt at small talk would just be ignored and there was sure as hell no point in trying to get her to talk about anything else. It was as though he was sitting with a stranger. She was nothing like he remembered, she seemed cold and blank, like she couldn't care about anything, or maybe that was it, maybe she just didn't care about anything. He was starting to think that something must have happened to her in the time that she had been gone, something that had turned her into the girl who sat beside him. She was like a shadow of who she had once been. And it was starting to make him uneasy.
A part of him was thankful when she made the turn into the parking lot of a motel. The awkward and tense car ride had gone on for ten minutes too long for his liking. Jamie said nothing to him as she pulled her keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the car. He followed her across the parking lot to one of the rooms and stepped inside after her, closing the door behind himself quietly.
"You gonna be like this all night?" he asked her bluntly, raising his eyebrows.
She pulled off her jacket and tossed it onto one of the beds before she turned to lean against the edge of the table, facing him. "Be like what?" she questioned, acting as though she hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.
"This; not talking, acting like a bitch." he snapped. "There's no need for it, Jamie. You're the one who walked out, not me."
Jamie shook her head and reached behind her for an unopened bottle of whiskey, taking a long drink from it. Behind her there were a couple of already empty whiskey bottles. He noticed on the nightstand there was a half empty bottle of vodka. "Jamie," he glanced between them and frowned a little, concerned. "How much do you drink?"
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "Enough to get me through the day." she replied bluntly. She didn't seem to care.
Dean narrowed his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. He got the feeling that there was something behind that comment, something that confirmed his thoughts that maybe something bad had happened to her to leave her the way she was. And he wanted to know what that thing was.
He went to answer but stopped as his phone rang from his jacket pocket. He sighed and pulled it out, frowning. "It's Dad," he muttered. "Hold on."
"Don't answer it." Jamie suddenly said, there was something in her voice that sounded like desperation, and he didn't understand where it was coming from. She looked scared.
"I have to answer it, Jamie." he countered.
"Just, don't tell him that you're with me." she pushed.
"What?" Dean flipped the phone open and frowned, holding it to his ear before she could answer.
"Dean please, please," she practically begged him, her voice hushed enough that it couldn't be heard down the phone. "Don't tell him."
"Yeah, Dad?" Dean answered down the phone, watching her curiously as he spoke. "Yeah, I'm great, I took a hunt." Jamie turned away from him, a hand wrapped in her hair, he could tell, she wasn't sure whether or not Dean would tell him. "Yeah, uh, listen, I'm right in the middle of searching for this thing, I'll call you back." Dean flipped the phone closed and sighed. "Alright, what the hell was that about?" he asked her.
Jamie shook her head. "Nothing," she answered. "I just don't want him to know where I am, that's all."
She was lying, he could see it. Either that or there was something else behind the fact she didn't want him to know where she was, because he knew that their Dad would be straight there to find her, god knows he had spent enough time searching for her in the weeks after she had bailed on them.
"Why do you insist on being alone, Jamie?" Dean finally asked, watching her face curiously for any indication of an answer that he knew wouldn't come from her mouth. Even when they had been younger he remembered how much time she had wanted to spend alone in her room, how she had avoided spending any more time than necessary with other people. She always seemed to want to be by herself, and he hadn't understood it.
She shrugged. "Because," she paused and took another drink while she thought about it. "That's the way I like it."
Dean shook his head, he was getting annoyed and they both knew it. "You disappear for years, you don't call, you refuse to speak to Dad, hell you've barely spoken to me -"
"I thought we were keeping this business?" she spoke over him, raising an eyebrow.
"See what I mean?" He held out his hands and sighed. "What exactly did we do to make you hate us so much, huh?" he asked, his tone harsh. "What did I do to you that was so awful you never wanted to see me again? That meant it was better I thought you to be dead?"
That statement seemed to hit her, she looked down to the floor, unable to face him, and shook her head. "Don't be stupid, Dean." she muttered.
"No, I'm being serious." he retorted. "Why did you leave, Jamie? Tell me."
Jamie sighed, she didn't reply, didn't make an attempt to response in any way. Dean just rolled his eyes, he knew there was no getting an answer from her.
"Are you getting a room, or what?" she asked bluntly.
Dean scoffed. "What are you talking about, there's two beds."
Jamie regarded him for a moment, sure that he was now intentionally trying to rile her up. "I don't like sharing a room with people." she countered simply.
"That's crazy, all we did was share rooms when we were kids." argued Dean, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair, turning back to her with a smile, knowing he had her beat.
She stood with her hands on her hips, watching him closely. "You know what, fine." She dropped down onto the edge of her bed and began unlacing her boots before she kicked them off. "I can't be bothered to argue with you anymore."
Dean sighed as he watched her turn off the light, leaving the room only in a dim brightness from the lamp in the corner of the room. She climbed into bed and turned her back to him, he was pretty sure that she could no longer face him, and he didn't know why. He kicked off his own boots and dropped down into the other bed, letting out a deep sigh. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to get his thoughts together. He had thought that she was dead, and now she was back and the thing that struck him was that she seemed to actually be dead. There was no life in her, she was just there. Her eyes were dull, she was emotionless and it scared him. Something awful had happened to her, and he knew she wouldnt' tell him what that was.
He lay there for a what felt like hours until he finally heard her breathing even out, until he was sure that she was finally sleeping. He watched her, like he wanted to make sure that she was safe, but more than that, he wanted her to really be safe. He didn't want her off on her own again, but there was a clear hesitance towards working with him, there wasn't a chance that she was going back to Dad with him. He had a good idea that the second the hunt was over she was going to turn her back on him and bail again. He didn't want another four years between them, hoping that one day he'd just accidentally stumble into her again.
He couldn't let that happen. Not again.
The Next Morning, 7:23am.
Dean woke early the next morning. He blinked open his eyes through the bright sunlight shining through the gap in the shades. He looked to the other bed on his left to see Jamie still sleeping, her face buried in the pillow and her forehead creased as though she was dreaming hard about something. He silently climbed out of bed and dragged his feet across the room to the table where he dropped down into one of the chairs and rested his forehead against his hands. The conversations with her from the previous night were still swimming around in his mind, he couldn't work out what it was that was wrong with her. He didn't understand why she was the way she was. And the longer that he went on not knowing, the worse it was getting.
Before he could get out another thought, a sharp gasp from the other side of the room made him jump.
Jamie woke with a start, sitting up in bed and wiping her face with her hands. There was no relief and no escape in the darkness of the countless motel rooms, all they brought was bad memories, and because there, everything was real. Everything that haunted her through the night was real. She came crashing straight out of one hell and she woke up into another. And the pain was all too immense to bear sometimes. Every time she had one of those nightmares she wished that she could just fall back into a deep, dreamless sleep, one without the nightmares. But she couldn't, she never did. And sometimes, when they were really bad, she wished that it would be the last time that she woke up. There was no hope left in her, there was no hope of it getting better or going away, she was going to have to live with it and she knew that.
She finally brought her face away from her hands and released a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.
"That happen a lot?" A voice came from the other side of the room. She looked up to see Dean sitting at the table, watching her curiously, eyebrows raised.
Jamie had almost forgotten that he was there. She ignored his question and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the table beside her, taking a long drink. "Why are you awake?" she asked, he guessed to change the subject.
Dean stood from the chair and crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of her bed. She backed away a little, watching him with uncertainty. "What's going on with you, Jamie?" he asked seriously, all aspects of joking and casualness gone.
"I don't know what you're talking about." she muttered, looking down at the bottle in her hand.
"Jamie," Dean shook his head. "Stop lying to me. Something's happened to you, and I wanna know what. I wanna know why you left, I wanna know how you've ended up like this. I mean, I thought you were dead." She still said nothing. "Jamie, talk to me. Please."
She cleared her throat, looking in deep thought, and picked at the label on the bottle. The sound of her phone ringing made her jump. Dean sighed, for a second he thought she was going to talk to him, but she climbed out of bed and placed the bottle down on the table as she passed to answer it.
Dean watched her. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in his mind, she had just given away that something terrible had happened to leave her like that. The drinking and the nightmares, the way she acted around him and the way that she refused to look him in the face, ever, it had to be something bad. He wanted to help her, he really did, but she didn't seem willing to tell him what it was that had happened, and that only freaked him out more. There had been a time that he was pretty sure she'd have told him anything, and now, she was a different person, she had changed so much over the past four years it scared him.
He glanced up at her as she placed the phone down on the table again. "That was the sheriff, found the gravesite." she muttered. Dean just nodded, unable to think of words. "I'm gonna have a shower, why don't you go get your stuff and we'll go get breakfast or something?"
She didn't look at him as she spoke, and a part of him knew that she was only saying it because she felt bad about how she had acted with him the previous night, but he nodded anyway. "Sure." He offered up a weak smile and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. He grabbed his blue jacket and turned to the door, leaving the room.
Something was wrong, and he was going to find out what. If it was the last thing he did he was going to get her to talk to him.
Okay, hope you liked it, thank you for reading! The next chapter should be up in like two or three days, I'm almost finished with it and you'll get to find out what happened to her.
I should give a warning, without giving too much away, that some of the things they'll talk about will get quite dark (I'll put a warning at the top of the next chapter), so be warned.
Thank you again for reading, guys! :-))