Jessica watched the scene like she was watching some horrible train wreck that she couldn't stop nor look away from. She watched the man she loved pound his father's head into the hard wood floor, and she saw the rage, she saw the hate burning in his eyes. She had been with Sam for close to two and a half years, he hardly ever swore, his anger was never so hot that it could scold a person, and hate was an emotion, that until today, she would have said that he wasn't capable of feeling.

Sam disappeared up the stairs and into his brother's room. Jessica starred after him in shock, fear, and amazement. When she was finally able to function again she pulled her eyes from the top of the stair case where her fiancé had disappeared, and looked down at John Winchester. When he arrived she had been slightly afraid, her female senses registering that this man was dangerous, he was someone who could kill you without a breath of notice, but now when she looked at him, she saw a broken man, a barely competent man, and someone who was grieving. Neither she, nor Bobby, extended a hand to help him to his feet, and they both knew that the offered help would send him into a fit of rage. It took John several minutes to get himself vertical, and he had to hold onto the banister to keep his balance, but he was up. He took a fortifying breath and that was when Jessica realized that he was going to head up the stairs, she suddenly feared for his safety. Because if Sam gave him that kind of beating for just saying he wanted to see Dean, then surly Sam would kill him for defying him and doing what he wished anyway. Her stomach tingled and she was just about to say something to stop him, convince him that he shouldn't when Bobby put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from the stairs.

"I don't' think that would be such a good idea John." Bobby said softly.

"My son is up there."

"Both of them are. And the live one is just about ready to explode. He'll kill you Johnny. You best go outside, sit on the porch." John gave his long time friend a glare but he was old enough and wise enough to know when someone else was right and when you should take the advice that was given to you. Reluctantly he turned from Bobby and stalked off towards the front door, and the slam that resulted rattled the windows in the house. Jessica gave nervous eyes to Bobby and then to the door. Bobby sighed and shook his head and headed into the kitchen.

She went up the stairs, expecting to go into the bedroom where Dean took his final breath and ask her man if he needed anything, if he needed help, if he needed a drink, but when she got up there, the scene before her shocked her into silence.

The big man, who only minutes ago had bashed his father's head into the floor, was sitting on the bed, as softly as possible, running a wet cloth over his brother's dead face. Dean's eyes were closed, but his jaw would not be closed so easily.

"Dean, Dad came back. He finally came back, and it was too late. I know you respect him, I know you think his orders and the way he does things makes sense. But I couldn't let him come up here. I couldn't let him see you, say he was sorry, and know that your soul would forgive him. I just can't do it Dean. I called him fifteen times in the last two weeks, and I know I called him a couple of times before that. Bobby called almost as often as I did. I even caught Jessica calling and leaving voice mail for him. He doesn't deserve to be here." Sam said the last and his voice hitched. Jessica turned from the scene and went back down the stairs and straight out of the door and found John Winchester sitting on the porch.

"Where have you been for the last two months?" she asked softly.

"Business little girl."

"I'm not a little girl, and if that is code for hunt…"

"What do you know about hunting?"

"It has been explained to me."

"Sam had no right…"

"I made him. I needed to know what was going on."

"Sam never was one who knew how to follow orders."

Jessica sighed. "You are making it incredibly difficult for me to feel sorry for you."

John turned on her eyes on fire with anger. "You feel sorry for me?" he said and stood up. She didn't back down.

"Yeah. You missed the last months of your son's life. He was a good man." She said and crossed her arms over her chest. "A very good man. Loving, caring, selfless. He wanted so much better for Sam, because Sam, in his mind, deserved it, deserved everything life had to offer. Dean didn't' want him to be a hunter, didn't want him to lead the life that Dean led." She crossed her arms tighter around herself gave a snort. "He worried about everyone. Even when he was dying. He worried. The last couple of weeks before his mind started to go, he had a headache the size of King Kong, but he didn't complain, we wouldn't have known if it hadn't been for how glassy and pain filled his eyes were. But you know what, even through all of that pain, he was still worried about others. We were watching a movie, I think Sam went to go get salt for the popcorn, and it was just me and Dean on the couch and I shivered, it was just getting cold in the house, and he offered me the blanket that we had covered him up with earlier, he wanted to make sure I was okay. He just wanted to make sure everyone was okay. And you didn't get to be here and see him, get to be here and know your son. I feel bad for you. You missed a lot John Winchester. And that is why I feel sorry for you. Now I'm going to go talk to Sam. I'm going to explain to him that even though you are a son of a bitch, you are still Dean's father, and that Dean, because he loved his family so much and for whatever reason respected you, would want you at his funeral. I'm going to do that for you, because that is what Dean would have done for you. Remember that." Jessica turned and went back into the house and the screen door slammed in her wake.

Bobby, who heard the whole thing from the kitchen window, smiled and sighed. Jessica was going to make a good hunter's wife, and Bobby wondered if somehow, Dean knew that, and had encourage Sam to tell her about the life for just that reason. A twinge hit his stomach hard. He would never know, Dean wasn't around to ask any longer. The gruff junk yard man wiped tears from his eyes and forced himself back to the task at hand.