Chapter 13: Voices of the Broken

Dean was stunned by the revelation of what was happening. Then again, he also was mentally kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. It all made sense now. Jessica had come to them, probably sensing them through Sam, and knew that they were her best hope for saving her sister. And of course she would want to pull her sister's spirit from the well. Emily was probably calling out to her. Dean could only imagine that kind of connection.

"If you want me to save your sister," Dean said to Jessica, "You have to tell me who's summoning the spirits from the well to kill people."

"You don't have to know that to save her," Jessica said, and he could see the desperation in her eyes. She wasn't apathetic to the plight of others, she had just been waiting so long, five years, for someone to come along to help her.

"I will help her, Jessica," Dean said, "but there are other people I have to help, too."

"But she'll kill you!" the girl cried, grasping the front of Dean's jacket desperately, "You can't stop her!"

"It's for me to try. Now give me her name."

"I can't."

"Jessica!"

"No, Dean! I really can't! I'm bound be her power. Everything I do is within her parameters."

"I don't understand," Dean replied. Boy, it seemed like he was saying that a lot lately.

"She monitors my psychic activity, Dean. I've already put you in terrible danger by coming to you, but I didn't know where else to go! I'm sorry for that, Dean. But if I tell you her name then there will be no hope for you or Sam. Or me. She'd kill me too. So you see, I can't tell you."

"I'll take the risk," Dean hissed.

"But would you risk me?" she asked honestly, "Or your brother?"

Dean took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. She was right. It wasn't worth the risk. But maybe if he asked the right question then he could get the right answer.

"What's the significance of the train station?" he asked.

"It's where she goes to summon them," Jessica replied.

"And how did the well become a gateway?"

"I don't know. It's just always been that way."

"And what's under the willow tree?"

"Her secrets."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Everything she's done that she regrets, she hides there. That's why Emily's buried there."

Dean frowned. "Wait a minute. Your mother told me that something pulled your sister into the well. So how can Emily be anyone's regret? Nobody killed her."

"Unless the thing that pulled her in had been summoned," Jessica answered.

Dean's hazel eyes registered his surprise at that comment, then understanding. "She was murdered?" he whispered.

Jessica nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Dean told her.

"You couldn't do anything about it," she answered, "but you can still save her for me."

"Tell me how."

"You have to go back to the well. Pull her out like you pulled out Sam."

"I will," he said, "but first let me stop this woman."

"Dammit, Dean!" Jessica burst out, "Haven't you been listening? You can't stop her!"

"So you want me to just walk away?" Dean asked hotly, "Yeah, that's real noble of you! Save my sister, but leave everyone else to die! Sorry, sister, but that's not the way I operate!"

"And that's exactly why your brother and father will be burying you one day," Jessica replied, a tear sliding down her face. Dean was a little taken aback by the comment, but didn't show it as she continued. "Always trying to be the hero. You forget that I'm a telepath. I've seen your memories... Your future. "

Dean remained silent, but inside he couldn't deny the slight wave of fear that had crested inside of him, the thought of leaving Sammy and his father behind to finish the job. But that was in the future. This was now. She didn't say that he would die stopping this necromancer, so that was something.

"Thanks for your help," he told her.

"I haven't persuaded you, have I?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. But thank you for trying."

He was surprised when she reached out and embraced him, burying her face in his leather jacket.

"Sorry," she said, "but I see very little people in the asylum, and I get a hug even less. It's just nice to be able to touch someone."

Dean smiled sadly, suddenly hurting for this girl. It wasn't fair that she was here. She wasn't crazy. And so, as she brought him back from the vision and into the asylum, he silently promised himself that before this was all done, he would try to help her as well.

Then he was sitting in the asylum again with his wrists held painfully down to the table. She let him go and sat back, her green eyes speaking to him more than words ever could.

"Thank you," he told her as he got up, opening the door to leave.

He gave her another smile as he waked out the door, but was stopped in his tracks by a voice behind him.

"Good bye, Dean."

He turned, and there she was, smiling widely. Those words had come from her mouth, not her head. Dean grinned.

"Good bye."

And as he left, he blew her a kiss on the way out.