A/N: Thanks to everyone for your lovely reviews. This is a little later than I told myself I would update, so apologies - and I think this plot officially has enough twists to open a bottle of wine. Hope you guys like it.

Chapter Thirteen

Dean wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling as he strode ahead of the others towards his car, anger? Yes. Fear? Also yes. Betrayal? But by who? His dad or Sam? He would have thought reuniting father and son would have been a good thing, right? Boy was he wrong.

How could it have all blown up in his face so damn badly? Sam had been the one that had it good, the one that got to go to college, the one that had been an upstanding citizen that his dad could be proud of. Again, he couldn't have been more wrong. He had practically been cheated out of his last chance to reconcile with his dad.

And he was still trying to process the fact that demons were an actual thing. Like a real, live, actual thing. What the hell?

Wait, were you allowed to say hell? Or think it?

Whatever.

He reached the car before he could even start cooling off. Instead of getting in, he braced his arms against the door of his baby and tried to figure out who he was mad at the most. He didn't really get very far with that. He never did.

He pushed himself off the car and rounded on the target that was actually within range. "What the freaking hell happened back there? This is your deep, dark secret? This is why you're like Jason freaking Bourne?" Sam opened his mouth to speak but Dean didn't give a crap what he had to say, "No, no. You don't get to speak. This is all your fault. Those... demons wanted you for something. They were after you. You almost got us all killed! You said we would all be better off if you just left and you were right. I never should have trusted you! You know, I actually thought you'd gone crazy for a minute. Now I really wish you had."

Sam looked away his arm twitching as he tried to find the words but when returned back to Dean, all he said was "You're right. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Is that it? You're sorry? What good does sorry do? Screw you! You're the reason mom left. I could've had a normal life if you hadn't been born! Do you have any idea what it was like to grow up wondering why my mom ran away? Why I was never enough for her to stay?"

"It was the only way she could've protected you," Sam protested weakly.

"Yeah right," Dean scoffed, "too bad she couldn't protect me from a life of crime. How protected do you think I've been? I'm a criminal being chased by my own gang, no friends, not even my own dad wants anything to do with me! And what do you have Sam? Mom chose you. She prefered raising a demon kid over me. And now I'll never get to ask her why. The last time I spoke to my mom I was three years old, I don't even remember it, and I lost the chance to ever see her again without even knowing it."

And Sam just stood there doing his lost little puppy shtick. Didn't have a word to say in his own defence.

"You know what, why don't you just get lost. Go take a long walk off a short pier or something." Dean muttered, officially done with the conversation and with the guy who he had briefly called brother.

With that Dean got in his car and let her carry him away without even looking back. He drove angry for a while, not caring where he ended up, just wanting to get away. Demons were a step too far. In fact they were several steps too far. Dean had enough problems of his own to be dealing with, he wasn't about to add freaking demons to the pile as well.

Dean decided what he really needed right now was a whisky or ten. There was a bar on the edge of town, not technically a dive bar but it had almost reached that level of disrepute, and it was within walking distance of the next motel. Dean kinda wanted to leave the town behind and the bad memories with it, but whisky was calling him.

He strode into the bar, headed straight for an empty barstool and signalled for a drink. "Make it a double," he added as the tumbler was filled in front of him.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but otherwise remained silent as he went about his work. Dean ignored him, as long as the dude kept the whisky flowing he didn't give a crap.

He was still trying to process the implications of what had happened that day. Really there was a lot to take in. If he was honest with himself, he had let himself get so angry just so he didn't end up freaking out, anger was easier, it made him feel like he was still in control. And now he was drinking whisky so that when the freak out finally came the buzz would cancel out some of the panic and the helplessness.

He sat at the bar in sullen silence trying to avoid thinking about demons with their black eyes and their super strength... But the only other topic his thoughts would rest on for longer than a second was either his dad or his brother and that really wasn't doing anything to help soothe his temper.

But how were demons even possible? And how did people not notice them? Why were they not a generally accepted fact? And how did mom know about them? And the whole thing with Sam and the demon blood...

He knocked back the last of his drink, it was his fourth, and the bartender sauntered over to top him up. "So what's got you on a mission to black out as soon as possible?"

Dean looked up at the bartender not pleased that his silent stewing was interrupted. "I like my whisky without a side of therapy."

The bartender shrugged, "The whisky didn't look like it was doing the job."

"The crap I've seen today, I don't think anything will do the job. But the whisky tastes good, so keep it coming." He commanded and went back to staring into his drink as if it held the answers to all his life's problems if only he looked hard enough. Although if he hadn't found the answers he needed in the six years he'd been drowning his problems in the spirit, he probably wouldn't find them tonight.

He would still give it a another try though.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the rest of the night was a blur. Dean kinda remembered getting kicked out by the bartender and being shoved into a taxi. The driver must have taken pity on him or something because when the ringtone of his phone dragged him into consciousness, he found himself in a generic motel room on a generic motel bed, with all his belongings.

Groggily and painfully, he propped himself up on an elbow to look about the room for his phone. He felt like the heavy bass riff was being played directly on his brain. He needed to shut that thing up now.

Without even looking at who was calling, he declined the call and flopped back down into the pillows. Within seconds his phone was ringing again, and within seconds his thumb found the decline button.

The third time his phone began ringing, Dean roared into his pillow before lifting his head to glare at his phone. Why the hell was Jess ringing him? His eyes jumped to the corner of the screen that displayed the time. And why the hell was she ringing him at six o'clock in the morning? He might not know exactly what time he was put to bed but it couldn't have been that long ago.

This had better be important - like, a matter of life and death important.

Jess watched as Dean sped off down the street, abandoning them and taking their belongings with him. She felt like she had gone down the rabbit hole and then, once in wonderland, had found a second rabbit hole and managed to fall unwittingly down that and into and even wilder, weirder place.

"Why didn't you go with him?" Sam practically whispered next to her.

Jess looked at Sam, "As if he even gave me a chance. He just yelled at you, jumped in his car and drove off!"

He cringed and shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah, he did." Sam said as he glanced in the direction Dean had driven off. As he looked back at Jess he became serious again, his eyes roamed over her, "Are you ok? You weren't hurt or anything were you?"

Jess shook her head, "No. But... I'm still trying to wrap my mind around everything that's happened. I mean demons? They actually exist? ...and you have visions?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed ruefully. He then straightened up and turned deadly serious, "Listen, Jess... You know about the supernatural now, and once you know about it, it finds a way of sucking you in. You'll need to find ways to protect yourself." Jess narrowed her eyes, he was talking like she had already decided she never wanted to see him again. "The demons won't stop coming after me so the further away I can get, the safer you'll be..."

"So now I'm on some demon hit list as well as a gang's?"

Sam looked at her with sad eyes, "I'll make you a hex bag, it will hide you from all demons as long as you have it with you. It's how I've stayed hidden from them for the last few years, it was only because I left my jacket in that diner that they managed to find me. I'll see if anyone I know can teach you how to put some protections up."

"Wait a minute, why can't you do that?" Jess demanded feeling like Sam was jumping way ahead of her.

"I told you it's not safe to be around me. I thought I could leave the life, I thought if I ignored the supernatural and ran far enough away that I could escape. But you saw what happened, I'll never be free."

Those damn eyes got her everytime. They got everyone. It was impossible to look at that heartbreak and not feel your own heart break in kind.

"Sam..." she began but Sam took advantage of her hesitation to speak instead.

"And that's not all." He took a deep breath and his arm began twitching, a sign of serious distress in Sam Campbell. "I need to tell you something else, and when I do you're never going to want to see me again."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror sometimes." Jess opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Sam held up a hand, his distress even more pronounced across every inch of his body. "There's one more thing you need to know about me. But before I tell you, just promise me that you'll protect youself. There's a hunter I know called Ellen, she can teach you everything you need to know and if you're ever in trouble she'll be able to help."

"Sam, why are you so sure I'm never gonna want to see you again after this? I've not run away screaming yet."

Sam closed his eyes and kept them closed as he opened his mouth. "I killed my mom." He said, forcing the words out.

"What?" Gasped Jess, she couldn't believe it. This was his secret? This was what she had peeled layer upon layer back to see? It didn't make any sense! She had thought that she was finally beginning to see the pattern, beginning to see the real Sam shining through all his armour. Was she mistaken?

"I k-killed my own mom... Headshot. When I was seventeen." His facade of calm was failing.

No, this wasn't right. There was always another layer to Sam, always a deeper meaning. "Wh-what happened?"

"I told you, I shot her." He was upset, but he was also confused. About how come she was still here, asking him questions, about how come she wasn't running.

"Why?" She demanded.

"It doesn't matter why. I killed her."

"Please Sam, it does matter. Just tell me why." Jess pleaded.

It was clear the memory pained him hideously but she waited tensely for him to explain. "Me and my mom had just finished hunting a wendigo. Its lair was so deep into the forest that we had to stop for the night on the way there and on the way back, we had a special gun with us... The demon that's been after me he's too powerful for an exorcism to work, the only thing we found that would work on him was that gun... He showed up in the middle of the night with a hellhound outside of our tent, and when we went out to take care of the hellhound we got separated and she got possesed..."

"What did the demon do?" Jess whispered. She had no idea what a wendigo was but that wasn't important right then.

"He told me that if I didn't join him, he would kill me."

"In your mom's voice?"

Sam nodded.

"Did... Did he try?"

Sam nodded again. Jess didn't even want to imagine either one of her own parents trying to kill her, even if they were possessed and technically not responsible for their own actions. She had been terrified enough when complete stranger's had only been trying to kidnap her.

"So it was self defence? It was kill or be killed?" She asked, in a small voice. It was the only defence she could possibly accept, the only defence that wasn't completely incongruous with Sam's character - even with everything she had recently learned about him.

"I should have just let it kill me."

"Sam-"

"It would have been better for everyone if I had!"

"Not everyone," Jess said quietly. Sam almost seemed to do a double take. "I don't think I would have been better off if you had died, or Brady, Jason, Andrea... "

"You really think you're better off having known me? You're on the run from a gang and demons. How is that better?"

"Because... I think I'm falling in love with you. I told you I liked you and yeah, some of the things I found out about you had me a little scared for a while... But I've seen nothing to make me hate you. You've only made me love you more."

"How? I'm a monster."

Jess shook her head, "I don't believe that. You haven't got a monstrous bone in your body. Even after those demons tried to kill us, you still wanted to save that guy."

"It wasn't him, it was the demon that was trying to kill you. It wasn't his fault," Sam justified - as if it made his compassion and determination to save people any less noble.

She took a step towards him like she had earlier in the day, but instead of letting her approach, he shuffled backwards. "Sam please stop trying to run away. You've told me everything and I'm still here."

Sam hesitated looking unsure and Jess took the opportunity to close the gap between them.

"I don't understand." Sam murmured.

She inched forward and wrapped her arms him, burying her head in his chest and fisting her hands into the back of his t-shirt as if she were afraid he would disappear. Which she felt was still a strong possibility. But then Sam's hands rested lightly on her shoulders.

"I'll explain it to you until you do understand." She promised quietly into his chest. She wasn't sure if he heard her but then his hands moved to wrap around her and he pressed her into him.

They stood like that for a while but eventually Sam pulled back a little. He held Jess away from him and scrutinised her carefully.

Jess gathered all the determination she had in her body and said, "I'm staying with you."

"Well," he croaked, his voice finally giving out under the strain of his emotions. "I think it's a stupid decision, but it's your decision I guess." He let go of Jess and dug a hand into his pocket. "I should phone Bobby."

Sam lead them down the street as he called his uncle. "Hey Bobby. Listen, do you know if there's any hunting stores in Lawrence, Kansas? ...I lost the hex bag. It's a long story." His chargrin showed heavily as he explained.

It seemed like an age before Bobby confirmed that there was one in town, but before he let Sam put the phone down he made Sam promise to tell him everything. Jess would have to speak to Bobby and ask him what his trick was.

Jess hurried after Sam as he strode into town and powered towards a shop that looked like it catered almost exclusively to hippies and new-age vegans who bought into all that homeopathic healing stuff.

"Was that the uncle Bobby you live with?" Jess asked panting slightly from the effort of keeping up with Sam's long strides.

"Yeah. He's a hunter too."

"A hunter?"

"It's kinda what we call people who hunt the supernatural. Bobby's been in the life for a long time, he's collected a lot of lore and he's made a lot of connections with other hunters, they usually phone him first if they wanna find something they can't research on their own." He explained. He glanced down at her confused expression, "I know it's kind of overwhelming, I'll take the time to explain it all properly to you but right now the most important thing is getting hidden again."

Crystals and beads of all colours and sizes effectively obscured the window and a bell chimed softly as they pushed their way inside. Jess gazed around the exotic looking knicknacks as Sam leaned over the counter and spoke meaningfully to the man behind it, resulting in the man scurrying away through a tinkling beaded curtain. When the man came back with the items that Sam had obviously requested Jess had a curious peek over Sam's shoulder and instantly regretted it.

"I know it's disgusting," he said as he deftly gathered the ingredients into two leather pouches, "But it's the only way to protect ourselves."

He handed Jess one of the bags and she took a little gingerly, unable to completely hide the disgust on her face, and paid the man before leading her out of the shop. Once he was clear of the shop some ways he relaxed a little and slowed to a pace Jess found easier to keep up with. Jess felt herself relax in response but as she did she noticed how tired she had become.

When they found a motel Jess booked a double room for them while Sam waited outside. Stormy coloured roses were blooming across his face from the fight with the demons and he didn't want to scare the woman at the desk.

When they opened the door Sam raised his eyebrows at the sight of the double bed and Jess felt her earlier bravery leave her.

No. She knew he liked her and she liked him, there were no more secrets between them. Why shouldn't they?

Sam shifted by her side and she turned to look at him as he did the same. Her eyes roamed over the purple swelling of his face. "That looks pretty sore," she said, "I'll get some ice."

She span and made a beeline for the ice machine realising that although she knew what she wanted and she had irrevocably made the decision to go for it. She was still a little nervous. Beginning a new life by the side of someone being hunted by demons? What was she thinking?

Clearly she wasn't. Not with her head at least.

When she got back to the room, Sam had put lines of salt along the windows and drawn some kind of occult symbols on the walls. He was perched on the edge of the bed looking a little nervous but motioned for her to be careful of the line of salt at the door. She stepped over it and pushed the door closed behind her, making her way slowly towards Sam.

"Extra protection?" She guessed. Sam nodded so Jess continued, "Why are you only doing that now? Why not before?"

"Because before today, I hadn't even seen a demon in over two years. The hex bags are powerful, but we're still too close to out last known location for me to feel comfortable without some extra protection."

Remembering the ice she held in her hand, she walked over to Sam and pressed the ice tenderly to his swelling cheek. He closed his eyes at the relief and covered her hand with his. She held the compress against his face for a few minutes, until the towel in her fingers became cold and moist with the melting ice. Drops began to run down her wrist and down Sam's neck.

She took the compress away and laid it on the bedside table. She leant down and gently pressed her lips to Sam's, immediately he captured her in his arms and held her close as he kissed her back firmly.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, "Are you sure?"

Jess bit her lip. His earnestness was shining out of him like a beacon, it almost blinded her as it shone through his cracks. "Absolutely." She assured him, putting the full strength of her feeling into her words.

She leaned down to kiss him again, sliding her knees onto the bed either side of his hips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as his hands gripped her hips firmly. She pulled back as she felt the patch of gauze under Sam's t-shirt against her forearm. She looked at him sadly, all those scars...

She traced her fingers down from Sam's shoulders to his hips and toyed with the hem of his t-shirt as she watched her fingers absently. Sam's thumbs slipped under her own top and stroked the skin of her hips and she shuddered pleasantly at the sensation.

She gripped the fabric and slowly lifted it upwards, once her hands were halfway up his torso he grabbed his t-shirt and tugged it off as if he was ripping off a plaster to get the whole, unpleasant ordeal over with more quickly. He dropped the garment and settled his hands tentatively on Jess' knees, eyes cast downwards as he seemed unable to meet her gaze.

Her fingers ghosted along three white lines that from his hip over his ribs, "Claw marks?" She whispered.

Sam gave a small nod and Jess' fingers continued on their trajectory until they hovered over Sam's tattoo. "It stops me from being possessed by a demon." Sam said quietly, his voice turning gravelly.

Her fingers then moved to another scar on his shoulder and traced it gently. "You got all of these from hunting?" She asked hesitantly.

"Most of them," he replied.

He looked so timid and unsure, so she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss where her fingers had been. "From saving people." Jess affirmed. Sam marvelled at her as she pulled back but she wasn't done, she laid another kiss on the bruise across his face, lips barely whispering over the skin. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's just a bit sensitive. It will be gone in a few days." Sam sighed, "Jess, this is what happens to people who hunt. We get hurt and then we have to patch ourselves up in dirty motel rooms. I heal better than most, otherwise I'm pretty sure I would have died from a couple of these. I don't want to watch you be hurt because of me."

"Well, I've made my choice. I chose you. Now you can either carry on complaining about it or you can shut up and let me kiss you." Jess quirked an eyebrow as she gave Sam her playful ultimatum.

He smiled tentatively and gently pulled Jess towards him and they both went tumbling onto the bed.

Jess wasn't sure what time it was when a massive thud echoing through the room woke her up. She opened her eyes to see Sam hastily shrugging on his jeans, he grabbed his gun from the table and pointed it towards the door just as it swung open. As the intruders fell over the line of salt Sam lowered his gun and shot at their legs as they rushed in.

After four shots he was out of bullets and had managed to stop the first two in their tracks but three more stepped over their felled accomplices. Jess was still trying to process what was happening around her through the fog of not enough sleep and the rapidly unfolding chaos around her.

Sam cast the now useless gun aside and stepped forward to meet the intruders. He blocked the first attack and countered but he was one against three, while he was blocking the second attack he took a hit to his already heavily bruised face. Jess looked about for her own gun, grateful for once that she had been persuaded to keep it with her rather than in her bag, which was still in Dean's car. She rolled off the bed, taking the sheet with her and with trembling fingers checked the gun, flinching as the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh kept an irregular beat the other side bed to the accompaniment of grunts and gasps of pain.

The commotion was rising as more people were woken up by the noise coming from their room. Shouts were reverberating around the entirety of the motel now, which added to the general confusion. Although adrenaline had now gotten her from blissfully asleep to horribly alert, she still struggled to fully comprehend what was happening.

Her trembling fingers finally readied the gun for use and took aim from behind the bed to see Sam being manhandled slowly towards the door despite the fight he was putting up, one of the men that had been grazed along his thigh was now adding his weight to the struggle to get Sam out the door. With all the writhing bodies, Jess didn't trust her aim and watched in dismay as they disappeared through the door.

She gathered the bed sheet more firmly around her and hurried around the edge of the bed, only to be tripped by the other injured man as he grabbed her leg. She dropped the gun as she crashed to the floor but as she kicked her legs wildly she managed to disentangle herself and scrambled for the gun. She picked it up and swing it round to point between the man's eyes.

She wasn't sure whether she would have pulled the trigger if he hadn't immediately rolled back and help up his hands.

As she scooted out of reach and clambered to her feet she heard the screech of a van careening away. She wanted to close her eyes in despair but she didn't dare take her eyes off the man still in her room, as it was she could feel tears start to spill out of her eyes. The man, sensing his opportunity in her distress, slowly and carefully got to his feet and limped out the door while Jess followed him with her gun woodenly.

Once he was out of sight she let the gun fall from her fingers and allowed herself to be overwhelmed by her emotions. She sat and cried and raged at herself, she should have done more! But could she have done more? If she hadn't been fumbling so much with the gun, if she had taken a shot when she had the chance...

She wiped her tears away angrily and sought out her clothes, stepping into her jeans and as she was about to pull her top over her head when Sam's t-shirt caught her eye. She lowered lowered her arms and crept round to the other side of the bed; she picked up the discarded material, it was cool but it still smelled like him. She considered the garment for a moment before donning it in place of her own. She immediately felt comforted by the swathes of cotton that comprised the t-shirt that was way too big for her.

She gathered up Sam's phone and his wallet, he would need them later. Then she turned and found her own phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found Dean's name.