I clutched Dean, burying my face in his shoulder. He held me tight to him. "Shh, sweetheart, shh…" he said softly. "It's ok; everything is going to be ok."

"Is she all right?" I heard Sam ask. I refused to pick up my head. "What happened?"

"She's fine. She's got skinned knees and a terminal case of guilt," Dean said. "I'll fill you in later. I'm gonna take her back to the car. You tell that fire investigator that there are charred bones in the basement."

"Audra?" Sam asked.

"Audra," Dean said.

Dean opened the car door and set me on the seat inside. "I can walk," I objected weakly. I was drained from crying and the world seemed unreal around me, surrounded in a haze of tears and ash.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to carry you," Dean said. His face tender, he ran his hand down the side of my head and slid it under my chin to make me look at him. "Anything else wrong with you but those knees?" he asked gruffly, indicating the scrapes clearly visible through my torn, previously-white-now-gray tights. I held my palms out to him. He looked at both of them and then got up to go to the trunk. "Get those tights off so I can clean you up," he said. He turned away from me, his head down. I looked after him and then slid into the car and shut the door. I pulled off my sneakers and socks and slid the tights off gently over my knees. They were scraped pretty deep and still seeping blood, the right one worse than the left. Dean opened the car door, the first aid kit in his hand and gestured to me to scoot back to the edge of the seat where he could reach me.

The look on his face was scaring me. He looked… lost, but that faded as he surveyed the damage to my knees and palms. He cleaned my scrapes and cuts, me wincing the whole time. He was about half done when Sam came back over. "We need to get out of here, Dean. Place is going to be crawling with cops soon."

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled his keys out. "You drive," he said, handing the keys to Sam. "Jessie, scoot." Startled, I slid over and Dean got into the backseat with me. Sam started the car and drove us away while Dean continued cleaning my scrapes and putting bandages over them, his hands gentle. "You need a shower, sweetheart," he said. "You're covered in ash and soot." I looked down at myself to see that he was right.

"What happened?" Sam asked, his tone impatient.

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them again to put away the bandages and peroxide. "I found her on her knees in front of a pile of charred bones about to drop her necklace on the floor. I caught it and put it back on her." He looked up from zipping up the kit. "You wanna explain that, Jessie?" he asked gently. I was surprised at how tired he sounded, at how tired he looked. "Jessie?" he asked.

"If I talk about it, I'll cry again," I said quietly. I pushed myself back against him, seeking comfort. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer.

"That's ok, sweetheart," Dean said. "Tell us what happened."

"I was in the basement," I said. "I got off the phone with you and I saw the boiler and I thought that the other girl's bones were behind the boiler." Tears choked me up and I couldn't talk for a second. Dean tightened his arm around me.

"And so you reached back there and found them," Dean said. I nodded, tears falling faster now.

"The skull," I said. "The skull looked like it had exploded, like her brain had exploded." I sobbed, unable to talk for a minute.

"Oh my god," Sam said, and Dean pulled me into his lap to hold me close to him, his hand moving up and down my back. He kissed the top of my head and just held me while I cried.

"Dean, she's finding them because of me, they're dying because of me. If I hadn't run… I thought that if I gave myself up, she'd stop killing them. She'd just take me, and it would be over. It would be over!"

"Oh, Jessie," Dean said, hugging me tighter. "You took off your necklace so she'd come get you. Oh, baby…" He held me, rocking me until my crying slowed. "You're definitely a Winchester, sweetheart, and I'm not so sure that's a good thing."

"I think it's a good thing," I whispered. "If it means I belong to you."

"Look at me, Jessie," Dean said, turning me a little so he could meet my eyes.

"I need tissues," I said, unwilling to look up while my nose was running. He handed me the rag he'd used to clean my scrapes, and I blew my nose on it, which was gross, but better than having snot running down my face. When I was done, I looked up at him, the rag clutched in my hand.

"Listen to me very carefully, Jessie, and hear what I'm saying," Dean said, his eyebrows raised. I met his eyes and waited uneasily. His voice was still gentle, but there was a firmness there that hadn't been there before. "I want you to promise me, right now, that you will never, ever take off that ring again until we tell you it's time."

I swallowed, wanting to promise, but … "Dean, if I'd let her take me, they'd be alive now."

Dean ran his hand down his face. "Oh Jessie, don't you understand? If you had gone with her, she'd be killing more people. It would be so much worse if she had you. She'd take your abilities and use you and them to murder people, to sacrifice people for power. Jessie, please, please promise me that you won't take off that ring again. You swear to me, right now, because I can't handle this, sweetheart. I can't handle losing you or even the thought of losing you because you want to sacrifice yourself futilely because a crazy goddess is killing girls," Dean said, his voice ragged, tears in his eyes.

My heart lurched. "I promise, Dean. I swear. I won't take off the ring until you and Sam say to, no matter what." I wrapped my arms around his neck. I'd do anything to get that lost look off his face, anything he asked of me and more.

He pulled me close, his head against my shoulder as he held me. "Thank you," he said, relief suffusing his voice.

I fell asleep in Dean's arms and a couple of hours later, Sam pulled over at a motel off the interstate. I was worn out and stiff. I felt liked I'd been through a wringer. Dean led me into the room by my hand and then ushered me into the bathroom, handing me my duffel bag. "Shower, brush your teeth, put on our pajamas."

"It's only four in the afternoon," I said.

"I have a watch, Jessie. I know what time it is. You're taking it easy for the rest of the day. Go on, get the ash out of your hair," he shut the door firmly. I stared at the door, feeling the loss of him, but he couldn't exactly shower with me. I pulled off my clothes and dropped them on the floor. I wondered if the motel had a washer and dryer we could use. Only my tights had been ruined, but my clothes were filthy. When I turned on the shower and got in, the water that streamed off my hair at first was dark gray and then light gray. I washed it three times, hot water streaming over me.

When I was done, I put on my Eeyore nightshirt, panties, and fuzzy socks. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth. When I came out, Sam had takeout food from the Denny's down the road. My bandages had come off in the shower, so Dean put new ones on me while Sam changed his clothes. Then I ate my burger and my steamed vegetables without complaint, although I could only eat about half the food, but Dean was satisfied with that. The rest went in the little mini-fridge in the room. Sam opened a beer, sat down on the couch, and put on the television

"Jessie, get your blanket and pillow and come sit with me while Dean showers," Sam said, patting the spot next to him. I obeyed, grabbing my snowman, too, and settling on the couch with Sam's arm around my shoulders. Dean disappeared into the bathroom.

I stared at the movie, Raiders of the Lost Ark, but was unable to concentrate. "Sam?" I said tentatively.

"Yeah, Jessie?" Sam asked.

"Am I… in trouble?" I asked, sitting up.

"We'll talk about that later, honey," Sam said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He patted his side so that I'd lean against him again. "Right now, we both just want you to get some rest. You had quite a shock today."

I leaned against him again, this time trying to focus on the movie, but it wasn't long before I was drifting off to sleep.

I woke up sometime later; the television was turned off. Sam was gone and I was lying on my side on the couch, my back to the room. I was about to sit up when I heard Sam say, "Yes, thank you for your help." His phone clicked shut and then he said, "The top part of Grazyna's skull was missing, too." I stifled a gasp. I knew it! "The bones were too damaged to determine whether or not the damage occurred before of after she died."

"What do you think?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea what to think, Dean. All I know is that Gabby's after Jessie and killing girls. My guess would be that she's trying to do the same thing to these girls as she did to Jessie, but that it's not working for some reason, and they're dying instead. She's going after younger and younger girls, so maybe she's hoping that it had something to do with how old Jessie is? But really, I just don't know. We have no idea what's going on in her head and no way to stop her yet."

"I called Bobby," Dean said. "He's still working on getting that stake."

"We need other options. There's got to be something else that will stop her."

"I know!" Dean snapped.

"Shh! You'll wake her up," Sam interrupted him. I held my breath, knowing that they were both looking at me. When I didn't move or respond, Sam said, "She asked me if she was in trouble."

Dean sighed. "I don't know, Sam. She saw charred bones, she threw up, she ripped up her knees and hands, and then tried to give herself over to Gabby out of guilt. She's going to have nightmares about the bones, I just know it, and there's no way that guilt is gone no matter what promises I extract from her. God, I almost lost her today. I don't want to punish her."

One of them pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. "I know what you mean," Sam said. "But I think we have to."

"Why?" Dean asked, his voice muffled. I could just picture him covering his face with his hand. "Why do we have to?"

"We always punish her when she endangers herself, and that's what she did here," Sam said. I really hated him just now. "Even and even especially when she ends up hurting herself. Remember when she got lost and sprained her ankle? And the time she left the motel room and walked into the lake? What about the time she left the car and saw the dead rabbit that that witch had killed? She hurt herself each of those times, and we spanked her each of those times so she wouldn't do it again."

"Yeah," Dean said, "and look how well that worked."

"Ok, it's not just that, Dean," Sam paused. "You know when you were in hell? She… acted out a lot, and I ignored it because I thought she needed space, that she needed to get used to it just being me, that she needed time to grieve. You know how she took it? She thought I didn't care. She pushed and pushed and pushed, breaking more and more rules until I had to punish her."

"What'd she do?" Dean asked.

"She followed me when I went to hunt Lilith and walked right into a house full of demons, and then afterward, she disappeared to take a little girl home. Everything I told her not to do, she did. If I'd just been consistent from the beginning…"

"Yeah, I got it," Dean said, his voice harder now.

"It doesn't have to be harsh. It just has to happen," Sam said.

"I got it, Sam," Dean said. One of them got up and opened the fridge. I heard a bottle open.

I hugged the snowman tighter. Dean had moved past being scared for me to being mad that I endangered myself in the first place. I was so dead. I wondered if I pretended to be asleep if I could at least delay it, and then I realized I didn't want to. It would be better to just get it over with since it was going to happen anyway, right?

I sat up. "Well, I'm awake. Wanna just get it over with now?" I asked.