Chapter 3

Jessie opened her eyes slowly, trying to focus them. She was in pain and had no idea where she was, until her eyes finally focused, then she realized she was in her motel room, only she was unsure how she made it back. She tried to sit up, groaning in pain, her arms and legs felt like they were on fire, but it hurt too much to move. But then she heard something that made her jump, someone was in the room with her.

Her eyes opened wide with terror as she heard someone approach her bed, her heart racing wildly, but she calmed herself down slightly as she saw who it was, she needed to keep her head.

"How are you feeling?" the tall man asked her with concern.

"Who are you? How did I get here?"

He smiled kindly, handing her a glass of water. "My name's Sam Winchester and the other man is my brother, Dean."

She drank from the glass slowly, taking small sips. "You didn't answer my other question. How did I get here?"

"We saw you fall by your car. We couldn't just leave you there."

"You couldn't?" she replied with a strange grin. "Even after I was such a bitch?"

He laughed once. "My brother wanted me to leave you, but I couldn't."

She began to feel a little guilty for being such a bitch to them.

"But how did you know where I was staying?"

"There was a motel receipt in your car."

"Oh my god, my car!" she exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't just leave her there."

He laughed once again, then smiled, though inside, he was rolling his eyes. "I brought your car here. I didn't think we should leave any evidence you were there."

Now she understood. They were worried. They wanted her to keep her mouth shut about their involvement. "Good. I would've been severely pissed if you'd left her there." She paused for a moment, then smiled lightly. "Thank you, Sam. I guess I owe you."

"You owe us huge," Dean replied as he walked in the door.

Jessie struggled in the bed, trying once again to sit up, finally managing to with the help of Sam.

"I appreciate your help," she said, narrowing her eyes at Dean. "But I can take care of myself now, if you want to leave."

Dean laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, it looks like you can take care of yourself alright."

She ignored his comment, instead checking out her wounds. The scratch on her arm she'd gotten the night before last was inflamed again and there were a few new ones. Her other arm only had some minor scratches, barely deep enough to have bled. Her chest had a deep gash, as well as a couple on one leg, and some smaller ones on the opposite leg. Most of them were superficial, but they still hurt.

"We'll stay for a day or two, if you want us to," Sam said smiling kindly.

"I don't know," she replied distracted. "I don't really trust other hunters."

"I told you, Sam," his brother said irritated. "She doesn't need our help. Let's just get out of here."

She pulled the covers off of herself, noticing she was still fully dressed, though her clothing had been cut up so her wounds could be cleaned. She gazed at Sam, looking curiously. "Are you worried I've been bitten?"

Sam looked a little guilty, but didn't reply to her question, instead Dean did.

"Yeah, actually we were. You know what needs to happen if you have been."

"And here I thought you might have actually cared what happened to me," she replied irritated.

He glared at her, but decided to say nothing. He wasn't in the mood to argue.

She swung her legs off the side of the bed, putting a little weight on them. It seemed okay, so she tried to stand up, pain shooting up her legs, but she was able to stand. She took a few steps, managing to stay upright, though she was hurting, but it wasn't so much that she couldn't handle it. This wasn't the first time she'd been injured on the job.

Sam stood up, looking uneasy. He didn't want Jessie to fall over, but he didn't want to seem like he was hovering either, she didn't seem like the kind of person who accepted help so easily. He watched her as she grabbed some clothing from her dufflebag, then walked to the bathroom.

"I'm having a shower," she announced, slamming the door behind her.

"Well isn't she a friendly one," Dean remarked with frustration.

Sam looked at him and laughed. "She reminds me of someone I know."

"Not me," he replied, raising an eyebrow curiously.

He laughed at his brother, then joined him at the kitchen table.

"Seriously, Sam. She's nothing like me."

He laughed at his brother again. "Cause you're never bitchy or ungrateful, right?"

"Shut up, Sam."

He laughed again. "Not to mention she was more worried about her car than herself."

Dean looked at his brother, stunned for a moment. "At least she has some good sense in her head."

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head and grinned. "Whatever you say."

The brothers ate the breakfast Dean had gone out for, while Jessie showered. When she came out of the bathroom, she had more color to her skin and seemed to be feeling a bit better. She thanked them for breakfast, which she mostly nibbled at, then grabbed her bottle of vodka and took a double shot. Both brothers were thinking the same thing, but neither felt like saying it. It was awfully early to be drinking, but they figured she was in pain, so they didn't say anything. It wasn't really any of their business.

Jessie found her car keys lying on the nightstand and picked them up. She walked to the door, expecting one of the brothers to ask where she was going, but neither did. She was glad, it really was none of their business. She understood why they had to hang around, she didn't blame them, but she didn't have to like it.

She walked to her car, circling all the way around it, checking for scratches. She was relieved to find none. She unlocked her door, retrieved her laptop, then locked it up tightly again. She stopped for a moment, her hand on the top of her car, then walked back into the motel room.

She noticed Dean was staring at her when she walked in, with a look she couldn't decipher. She was going to say something, but she wasn't in the mood. Instead she took her laptop to the bed, climbed in and began to surf the net, looking for information on her next job.

It was quiet for a long time, Dean had a short nap while Sam was on his laptop, then Sam took a nap while Dean watched TV, Jessie was on her computer the entire time. She was researching, as well as checking her email and she even played a few games of online poker when she got bored.

It was nearly dark when Sam finally woke up from his nap. He was hungry, asking Dean if he would go get something for them to eat, but Jessie wanted to go out, so she argued with them, eventually losing the argument. It was almost dark, they didn't want her to leave and she understood why, but she didn't have to be happy about it.

Jessie spoke very little as they all sat at the table eating some chinese take out. Dean wasn't happy, he'd wanted a burger, but she refused to eat anything but chinese food. She was used to getting her own way since she was always alone and never had to worry about anyone else.

"I'm really sorry we got in the middle of your hunt," Sam said to Jessie out of the blue. "If we'd known someone else was already hunting that werewolf, we would've stayed out of it."

"I'm over it," she replied shortly.

"Really?" Dean said with surprise. "You seemed pretty pissed about it last night."

"Dean!" his brother said narrowing his eyes.

"You're right, Dean," she said glaring at him. "I was pissed and still am. I spent months hunting this bastard down and...nevermind."

"And what?"

"It's personal. End of discussion."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Sam asked concerned.

She saw genuine concern in his eyes and something inside her wanted to talk, but that was also the part of her that she'd kept locked up for years. For the most part, she didn't ever get close to anyone, or let anyone in, that was how she'd survived for so long.

"We all have our personal reasons, Sam. Just let it go."

He looked at her sadly. "We may have to...kill you tonight. Wouldn't you like to get things off your chest?"

"I told you he didn't bite me!" she snapped. "But whatever. If you want to waste your time here with me, waiting for something that's not going to happen than fine."

"You know we have time," Dean chimed in. "It's not like we're enjoying this."

"But listening to my life story would be enjoyable?" she asked sarcastically.

He was about to open his mouth to retort, but her phone rang interrupting his thought. She immediately grabbed it from her pants pocket and answered it.

"Hello?" she answered, walking to the other side of the room. "Yeah, I'm fine Bobby. Why do you ask?"

Dean looked at his brother with surprise. "Do you think she means our Bobby?" he asked quietly.

Sam gave him a look that told him to hush.

"You sent them?" she asked angrily. "Why would you do that? You know this was personal."

The brothers looked at each other in shock. They knew it was Bobby Singer she was talking to, he'd been the one who'd sent them here to hunt the werewolf in the first place, now they understood why.

"I don't care what you promised him, Bobby, I told you I didn't need any help." She glanced at the brothers angrily as she said this, then chucked her phone at them. "You explain what's going on, I'm not in the mood to speak to him anymore."

Dean caught the phone, and proceeded to speak to Bobby, while she ran into the bathroom.

Jessie closed the door behind herself, then sat down on the toilet lid. She was trying very hard not to cry because she hated to cry, it made her feel weak and vulnerable, and she hated feeling that way. She didn't blame Bobby, even though she was angry with him for interfering, and she didn't blame the Winchester brothers, even though she was annoyed by them, she blamed herself. She'd let her personal feelings get too involved with her hunting and she'd nearly died because of it.

She stayed in the bathroom for a short time just thinking, all alone with her thoughts. She fought back tears she'd been wanting to shed for a long time, but they finally overpowered her, a few tears gently falling from her eyes. It had been a long time since she'd cried, even a little, refusing to give in to her sadness and despair, instead mainly subsisting on her anger, rage and resentment. It kept her lonely, but that seemed better to her than feeling vulnerable.

She was about to get up, when there was a soft knock at the door and a gentle call. "Hey."

She stood up, opening the door and peered out. It was Sam. "What?"

"I thought you might want your phone back," he replied, holding it out for her.

She took it from his hand, smiling very lightly. "Thank you."

He gave her a warm smile, then turned and walked away.

She glanced in the mirror to see if her face was okay, which it was, so she walked back out into the room, sitting down on one end of the couch. Dean was on the other end of the couch watching TV, while Sam was at the table on his laptop. She ignored them both for a few minutes, looking past the TV, because she wasn't interested in what was on, then out of the blue she turned to Dean, looking at him questioningly.

"So, what did Bobby have to say?"

He returned her look with surprise. "He apologized for not telling us we were here to help you. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Because he knew if I'd found out he'd asked someone to help me I'd throttle him."

He glanced at her curiously for a moment, trying to figure out if he should bother asking her anything else. He was tired of her attitude.

"How long have you known, Bobby?"

She studied his face for a moment before answering. "Just over eight years, though I met him a few times before that when I was young. He was a good friend of my grandfather's."

"If you've known Bobby for so long, why is it we're only meeting now?"

She laughed, grinning sarcastically. "If it's any consolation, I've heard of you and Sam. I even met your dad once."

"You did?"

"Actually, he saved my life." She stopped for a moment, reflecting on the past, then frowned. "I don't feel like talking anymore."

"Why not?" he asked curiously. "I'd love to hear a story about my father."

"Leave it alone!" she snapped, glaring angrily.

"Dean," Sam called.

"Fine!" he said, storming out of the motel room.

Sam walked over to the couch and sat down in the spot Dean had just vacated, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, Jessie. He means well, but he's not always, uh, intuitive."

"It's okay," she said shaking her head. "I should be the one apologizing. I'm not used to, uh, conversing with people about myself."

"I know this whole situation is a little awkward for all of us."

"Yeah," she said distracted. "Maybe I should go apologize to your brother."

He laughed once. "Dean will be okay. He's got tough skin."

She smiled slightly. "I would feel better if I did," she said and stood up. "I might be a bitch, but I have better manners than that."

Sam smiled in amusement as he watched her walk out of the motel room. He wished he could see his brother's face about now.

Jessie stepped out into the cool, dark, evening, taking a deep breath of fresh air. She glanced around looking for Dean, who was leaning up against a black, 1967 Chevy Impala. She approached him slowly, noisily, not wanting to startle him.

Dean turned around when he heard someone approaching. He rolled his eyes in annoyance when he saw who it was.

"What do you want?"

She ignored his tone of voice, staring wonderously at the car. "Is she yours?"

He raised his eyebrow in surprise. "The car? Yeah."

She was grinning widely from ear to ear. "My grandfather had a 1969 Impala, but I always thought the '67 was a much better car."

"You know about cars?" he asked with shock.

"Don't tell me you're one of those guys who think all women are useless with cars?" she asked insulted.

"Of course not. I'm just surprised."

She eyed him suspiciously, not really believing him, but she didn't want to start a fight with him. She walked around the car, staring at it in awe. She was delighted to see a such a stunningly beautiful car in such good shape. She thought he was kind of a jerk, but at least he took care of his car. It made her respect him just slightly.

"I would love to take a ride in your car one day, if I wasn't worried mine would get jealous," she said jokingly.

He smiled. "If you want a ride, all you have to do is ask."

She stood pensive for a moment, then grinned. "I might just take you up on your offer some day."

"Some day, huh?"

She knew he was joking, but it brought her back to reality. She didn't want to drop her guard or get close to anyone, and she was close to that now. Her smile left her face as she looked at Dean seriously.

"I got distracted by your car," she explained. "What I came out here to do was apologize. So...I'm sorry."

"What exactly are you apologizing for?"

She averted his eyes, frowning. "For being so ungrateful. You and your brother saved my ass, but all I could see was my chance for vengeance was ruined. I...nevermind. I think I better go inside."

She turned to leave, but Dean grabbed her by the wrist, spinning her back around. "How long have you been hunting?"

"Why?" she asked irritated, trying to pull her hand from his grasp.

"This job can be pretty lonely. It must be difficult when you have no one to talk to."

She narrowed her eyes at him, forgetting he still had her by the wrist. "Was that a lame attempt at a pick up line?"

He snorted. "Sorry, my brother is usually the sensitive, listening type."

She smiled hesitantly. "You did okay."

He grinned for a moment, releasing her hand. "I think we should get back inside before Sam begins to worry."

"About you?" she teased.

"He knows I can handle myself," he said grinning.

"Really?" she asked, walking closer to him. "You think so, do you?"

"I know so."

She grinned, then reached out to grab his arm. He countered, trying to grab her other arm, but she'd expected that, moving away. After many attempts, she managed to grab his arms and twist them behind his back, pushing him up against his car.

"Told ya," she said laughing.

He waited until she released her grip, turning to walk away, before he made his move. He turned, grabbed a hold of her, spinning her around and pushing her up against the car. He stopped suddenly, his face only inches from hers, grinning wildly.

Jessie wasn't sure what made her do it, but she leaned closer and began to kiss him. It was a passionate, wild kiss, both of their hands were all over each other. But it only lasted a minute, before she pushed him away, feeling vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have done that," she said breathlessly.

"I'm not really sorry," he said grinning wildly.

She sighed, shaking her head, then looked away. She stood there for a moment longer, then ran around him, entering the motel room, slamming the door behind her, startling Sam.

Dean watched her for a moment with confusion, shrugging his shoulders before slowly walking back into the motel room.

A/N: Are you enjoying the story so far? I hope so!

Thanks for reading!