Chapter 19

Sam was only a few seconds behind Dean in the race through the mine. Although, that moment where J turned to look back at Dean seemed to last an eternity. He wished it would not end so soon. Those eyes had caught him off guard. Again.

"Are you ok, J? Oh my God!" Sam began to say, and then continue to yell. First concerned with J, then suddenly very aware and concerned with her and the dead Djinn at her feet.

While Sam went to inspect the Djinn to confirm J's kill, she and Dean exchanged another look. She just stood there, beaming at him. She was proud of herself; he could tell. And for some reason, he was extremely proud of her, too.

Dean smiled back at her.

"Well, he's definitely dead." Sam confirmed, awkwardly. He looked up between Dean and J, a questioning, yet knowing look on his face. He cleared his throat before continuing. "How do you suggest we get rid of the body?"

"Same as before. I still have some wood tar we can use to make Tar Water." J turned to look at Sam. "There should be enough for him."

"How are you feeling, big guy? And don't lie. I will know if you do." She looked genuinely concerned, now. With a hint of don't mess with me right now. J's eyes were so narrowed they were almost just slits.

Sam looked down at her, then up and away. He thought for a moment, looking off over her head. He cleared his throat again.

"I feel, ugh. I feel exhausted. Kind of like I've been sick for days and am only now regaining my strength. I guess that's the best way to put it. I don't feel terrible, but it doesn't feel good either." Sam concluded. Looking back down at J to see her response.

J reached up and put her hand against his forehead and brought Sam's face down so she could look him in the eyes better. "That is completely normal. Everything seems fine to me. I just put your subconscious through the wringer. I did things that were against the Natural Order. You will need a few days off to fully recover." She said as she released Sam's face from her hands.

"Headaches are normal. So are moments of dizziness or confusion. Now, if you start hearing or seeing things that are not there, or anything weirder than usual, you need to tell me right away. This is nothing for a normal MD. You have my number now so I expect to know as soon as you do. I mean that, Sam Winchester. Even if it's a while down the road, you need to let me know. Side effects of this kind can be quite lingering. And annoyingly very serious. Especially when left unchecked." She was looking at Sam with such force, even Dean recoiled slightly.

She was not messing around. Dean abruptly interrupted them.

"If I notice anything off, I'll be sure to let you know. Even if Moose here doesn't."

Sam scowled at Dean. He hated being called Moose.

"Thanks, Squirrel," Sam said under his breathe.

Just as much as Dean hated being called Squirrel. Dean returned the scowl with Bitchface force.

J just chuckled at the two brothers and their Battle of the Bitchfaces.

"Come on, boys. We have work to do and a mess still to clean up. By the looks of it we don't have much daylight left. And you two have a body to burn! Hop to it!" J clapped her hands together before she started heading back into the mine to start gathering up her things.

Back at the motel Sam, Dean, and J each flopped onto an available surface.

Sam collapsed onto the couch, Dean sat down on one of the beds, while J stage-dived onto the other. All three let out a collective groan. Another job was done.

There was a long silence. It was in no way awkward. No one wanted to fill it, as it did not need filling. All three of them needed it. They all needed to just sit there for a moment in silence. Not even their minds were moving, J was silently sure of that one.

After a while, Dean sighed loudly. Or at least it sounded loud after their extended period of shared silence.

"So, what's the plan?"

"I say we crash here for the night and drive back to The Roadhouse in the morning. All I want is a shower and sleep." Sam said. Looking like a real plan was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

"I recommend that, as a psychic professional. He needs his rest. And, fuck it, so do I. I call dibs on the first shower." J raised her arm up slightly from the bed as she said it, muffled by the pillow. She started to straightened up and stretched.

Dean watched every minute movement carefully. He couldn't look away even if he tried. Even after a pretty dirty hunt, all torn up and bloodstained, J was gorgeous. Maybe even more so with the rips and blood… Dean's mind trailed off on that thought.

Dirty girl…

Which caused J to look up at him, mid-stretch. She just looked at him and winked. Arching her back so, not only did Dean get a peek at the bottom of her tattoo, it popped loud enough to elicit a "Goddamn!" from Sam.

As J continued stretching, she said "I couldn't drive back to The Roadhouse right now even if I wanted to. I am way too tired. Waking Sam up from that dream was enough to take out even the most seasoned of us. Djinn poison is some serious shit. Mojo I've never worked with outside of my books. I don't mind taking the couch, either. It would still be better than the back of my car, that's for sure." J said, trailing off as she grabbed her bag.

"You two like Jazz for the next 20 to 30 minutes. Deal with it." She added sarcastically as she walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Dean could hear the water turn on. Then the music started playing.

J must have a portable Bluetooth speaker, what was unmistakably Jazz was now coming from the little bathroom. Rather loudly. She must have had it loud enough to fill the space as it was rather unmuffled by the door.

"At least she has good taste in music," Sam said with a small grin. He closed his eyes and laid back onto the couch. Enjoying the music coming from the bathroom, just waiting for his turn at the shower.

Dean was sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom. He heard something just under the music. J was humming her own little tune to herself, to the tune and rhythm of the music. He was surprised he was able to hear it. These walls were really thin.

It occurred to Dean that Sam was entirely too far away, over on the couch, to hear J humming as subtly as she was. He too leaned back, fully onto the bed.

Dean laid there and just listened to the sound of her voice. Like the Jazz, there were no words, but it was wonderful either way. Words were not necessary.

Her voice was a soothing salve to Dean's frayed nerves.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until Sam woke him up with a towel in his hair.

"Wake up, man. It's your turn to shower. You can finish sleeping after. You will thank me later." Sam said.

Dean scowled at Sam while getting a pillow ready to be launched at his face for waking him up.

"There's still hot water!" Sam said brightly, arm raised and hand raised up to block an oncoming projectile pillow.

The thought of even just a warm shower did sound inviting. As Dean grabbed his bag to head to the bathroom, he caught sight of the couch. Then he entirely glanced over.

J was curled up, fast asleep, with a stolen pillow and sheet from one, or both, of their beds. Her dark wet hair was fanned out onto the pillow and around her. She was so curled up into herself, Dean would have never guessed she was as tall as she really was. She was taking up so little space on the couch he could have easily sat next to her and not disturbed her. That must not be comfortable.

Maybe he was just used to his Moose of a brother. He thought about walking over and gathering her up and just putting her on his bed. If she stayed like that, they could share the bed, easily. Better than the couch at least.

The tightening he felt in the pit of his stomach told him to think better of it. For now, at least, he would ignore those impulses. Ignore that he had even had them. For now, Dean just needed to ignore everything he was feeling about J.

Dean couldn't help it. The thought still made him smile. He smiled to himself at the thought of gathering her up, pillow, sheet, and all. Of her staying asleep. Of her waking up. Of her waking up and throwing a little fit at being manhandled. The thoughts carried him through his shower and back to bed.

He really did try to ignore all of them.