Chapter 6

Jessie woke up early the next morning stiff and sore. She'd ripped open one of the cuts on her left arm while she was sleeping, which now looked infected. She climbed out of bed, immediately grabbing the medical kit from her dufflebag and went into the bathroom, having a shower before she checked the rest of her wounds.

Upon closer inspection of her arm wound, it looked even worse than she'd originally thought. She knew she should probably see a doctor, but she didn't have time for that, or the desire. She'd promised to visit Bobby, and she wasn't going to break her promise.

It wasn't the first time she had to perform minor surgery on herself, but it wasn't one of those things she particularly enjoyed. She cut away some of the infected skin, cleaned it with vodka, then stitched it up, hoping this time it would heal properly. She wasn't pleased with how it looked, she knew it was going to leave an ugly scar, but she didn't really care. She had no one to impress but herself. She bandaged it up, before changing into her last set of clean clothes.

She decided to head to the nearest laundromat before she had breakfast, she was in a hurry to get out on the road, so she got her clothes washed while she ate, then returned to dry her clothing while she had coffee. She could have waited until she arrived at Bobby's house, but she hated to impose on him anymore than she already did, even though he never seemed to mind.

She stopped a few places before she went back out on the road, heading for Bobby's house. The closer she got to his house, the more anxious she became. She knew he was going to want to talk, and she wasn't really in the mood. She figured if she could handle herself against werewolves, speaking to Bobby should be easy, but it never was.

She arrived at his house a little earlier than she'd thought she'd make it, it was only midafternoon. He hadn't been expecting her so early. She waited impatiently at the front door for him to answer.

"You're early," he stated when he opened the door. "Dinner isn't ready yet."

She laughed lightly, hugging him awkwardly. "Nice to see you too, Bobby."

He smiled brightly, happy to see she wasn't in a bad mood. He led her to the kitchen table, where he offered her a shot glass.

"Do we really have to do this every time?" she asked exasperatedly. "I've never been possessed."

"There's a first time for everything."

She sighed, drinking the shot glass full of holy water, rolling her eyes teasingly. "Happy?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "What would you like to drink?"

"Just soda for now," she replied, then smiled. "Though I reserve the right to something stronger later."

He smiled, retrieving a soda from the fridge, handing it to her, then patted her on the shoulder. She flinched as he nearly hit the wound she'd only tried to fix up earlier that morning.

"What's wrong with your arm?" he asked with concern.

"It's nothing to worry about, Bobby."

He eyed her suspiciously. "I just opened it up again, that's why it hurts. It'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," she said reassuringly.

They sat down at the kitchen table, Jessie with her soda and Bobbie with some whiskey, and began to talk about superficial things. Bobby wanted to bring up something more important, but he didn't know exactly what to say to her, knowing she was difficult on the best of days. But he had to suck it up and deal if he was going to be able to help her. "Have you decided what you're going to hunt next?"

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion for a moment. "Not sure yet. Have you heard news of any other werewolves around?"

"You know I haven't, Jess. I think you've hunted every last one of them in this country."

"Then maybe I need to check Canada, or Mexico," she said jokingly.

He smiled, but it was only to hide his worry. "Don't be such a worrywart, Bobby. I've hunted other things."

He wanted to be harsh with her, sometimes it was the only way to get her to listen, but he knew if he did she would just leave, and he couldn't let her leave just yet.

"Why don't you just quit hunting? You've done what you set out to do, erradicating the werewolves that killed your family...and pretty much every other werewolf in existence."

"What should I do, Bobby? Go back to my old life? The damn werewolves destroyed that! My sister, my parents, my grandfather and...my boyfriend. Everything I had, including my education. What do I go back to?" She tried her best to keep herself from being so emotional, but it wasn't so easy.

He looked at her sadly. "You're still young. You could go back to school. Graduate. Do something meaningful with your life."

"Meaningful? Are you kidding?" she spat. "I've saved lives hunting. What could I do in front of a computer that's more meaningful than that?"

"You could live, Jess. The way you're going now, you're going to hunt yourself to an early grave."

"I'm sorry, Bobby. It's my life."

"Your grandfather wouldn't have wanted this for you. He would've wanted you to finish school, get married, have some children."

"Then it's a good thing he's not here," she said glaring. "Marriage. Children. Those are things for other people, not me. I don't need, or want, a man."

"I see the loneliness in your eyes, darling."

"Is this why you asked me here today, Bobby? To try and convince me to quit hunting. Meet a man. Get a life."

"Partially. I worry about you hunting alone. If only you'd find someone, like your mom and dad did. Then I know I'd done what your grandfather asked of me."

"Oh, I see. You want to be rid of the burden of worrying about me, is that it?" she asked angrily. "I can take care of that easily enough."

"Dammit, Jess! That's not what I mean at all and you know it. I care about you, almost like my own daughter. I just want you to be happy."

She snorted in disbelief. "Happy? Seriously? Happiness is what people believe in so they can wake up in the morning. It's not real, it's an illusion."

"Is that really what you believe?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's the truth," she announced with finality.

He shook his head in disappointment, finding it difficult to listen to. He was disappointed, but not with her, with himself. He'd obviously failed her and he felt badly. He wasn't even sure if there was anything he could do to help her now. And if there was, he had no idea what that could be. It broke his heart. "Are you going to help with dinner?" he asked, changing the subject quickly.

"What do you need help with?"

"I was hoping you'd make your famous potato salad."

"Oh, so that's why you asked me here, huh?" she teased.

"You've figured me out," he replied with a smile.

"As long as you have everything I need," she said, while rooting through the fridge.

He grinned, even though he was anything but happy. But as long as she seemed to be in a good mood, he wanted her that way. He knew that was going to change very soon.

Jessie spent the next part of the afternoon making potato salad, macaroni salad, coleslaw, cutting up some onions, tomatoes and cucumbers, as well as shucking a few ears of corn. She wasn't sure why she was making so much food, but she didn't ask. She just figured he wanted leftovers to eat for the next few days. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done that for him and she really didn't mind. He'd done a lot to help her out over the years, it was the least she could do to make sure he took care of himself. She worried about him sometimes too, though she would never tell him that.

She was cleaning up the kitchen, when she thought she heard something, a rumbling, almost like thunder. As the sound became louder, closer to the house, she knew exactly what it was, something she couldn't mistake, and she wasn't pleased.

"Bobby!" she yelled, running into the livingroom. "What the hell did you do?"

"What?" he asked playing dumb.

"Did you ask the Winchesters over for dinner too?" she asked irritated, her hands on her hips.

"No, I didn't ask them to come over."

She eyed him suspiciously. She knew he was hiding something. "But you knew they were coming, didn't you?"

He tried to seem innocent. "I might've known they were stopping by."

"Dammit, Bobby," she said and sighed.

"Will you just do this one thing for me, please?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "Fine. Just stop begging. I hate to see a grown man beg."

"Ha, ha," he laughed teasingly.

She rolled her eyes and walked back into the kitchen, continuing to clean up. She'd already cleaned the mess up she'd made during the day, but the kitchen looked like it hadn't been cleaned in awhile. It wasn't filthy, but it wasn't clean. Not to mention there were some dirty dishes that looked like they'd been there a few days.

She was busily scrubbing the counters when she heard footfalls behind her. She resisted the urge to turn and see who it was, instead, she continued to clean the counters, ignoring whoever it was.

"Something smells delicious in here," Dean remarked.

Jessie stood still a moment, trying to take it as a compliment, even though she was extremely irritated by his presence. She turned around, gazing at his smiling face, having a hard time keeping her tough resolve.

"Thank you."

"You mean you cooked?"

"I'm a woman aren't I? We all know how to cook, right?" she asked sarcastically.

He looked at her uncomfortably. "That's not what I meant."

She grinned, enjoying his discomfort. "I know."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, then picked up a cloth and began helping to clean the other counter.

They were both silent for a few minutes, neither having any idea what to say to the other. But Dean didn't like the awkward silence.

"Hey, I got a question for ya." Jessie stopped cleaning, turning to face Dean curiously.

"I asked you a question the other day and you never answered it."

"What's that?"

"How is it you've known Bobby for so long yet we've never met?"

She sighed, thinking about the answer to that. "I don't actually visit Bobby that often. This is the first time I've been here in probably a year."

"Where were you when he needed you?"

"Excuse me? Where do you get off?"

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

She glared at him angrily. "I was in jail."

"In jail?" he snorted.

"Yes."

He was grinning comically.

"You think it's funny?"

Bobby walked in, followed by Sam,

"Dean," Bobby called.

"No, it's okay, Bobby," she said, staring at Dean. "I was in jail for gun possession and assaulting an officer. I was on a hunt, some guy saw me with a gun and called the cops. They'd sent two male officers and they tried to frisk me when they caught me. When one of them touched me where they weren't supposed to, I beat the hell out of him. It took the other officer and some back up to get me into cuffs. I spent a year in jail for that."

Dean felt ashamed, so he didn't say anything else. Normally he would have replied with something sarcastic, but he couldn't think of anything for a change.

"That must've been awful," Sam said.

She turned to Sam and smiled. "Nah, wasn't too bad. It's not like men's prison. I didn't have to worry about dropping the soap in the shower," she said, laughing heartily.

The three men in the room laughed uncomfortably, making her laugh a little harder before she stopped.

"So, Bobby," she said grinning. "You gonna cook or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses," he replied, going to the fridge.

"What are we having anyway?" Dean asked.

"Burgers," Bobby replied, carrying a tray of hambuger patties. "Jessie made coleslaw, potato and macaroni salad and we have some corn too."

"I can't wait. I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Dean," Sam replied.

Bobby left outside to cook, while Jessie began to take the salads out of the fridge and place them on the freshly cleaned table. Sam followed behind her asking if he could help, so she began passing the salads, veggies and the condiments to him. Once all of it was on the table, she was going to get the plates, when she saw Dean nosing around the salads.

"Get out of those, Dean!" she warned.

"But I just want a taste," he whined.

"You can wait until we all sit down, or I'm gonna kick your ass."

Sam laughed, while Dean stared her down for a few moments, before he gave in. "Fine."

She turned away to fetch the plates, grinning. She was enjoying herself with other people for the first time in a very long time. It made her want to stop herself, but she figured it couldn't hurt to relax and enjoy herself for one day.

After she set the table, she went outside to check on the burgers. It wasn't because she was hungry, impatient or even picky, she just wanted to tease Bobby. It was as much for fun, as it was to get back at him for not telling her the Winchesters were going to be visiting.

When the burgers were done, the four of them sat at the table eating and talking, mostly about superficial things. Jessie enjoyed hearing about hunts that the brothers had been on, it was easy to get Dean to talk, and she was actually grateful for that. She hated awkward, and this was one of the most awkward situations she'd been involved with in a long time.

"This has got to be the best potato salad I've ever eaten, Jessie," Dean said with a mouth full of food.

Bobby and Sam laughed, while she grinned.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should because it is."

"Yeah, if anyone knows food it's Dean," Sam said chuckling.

"I've noticed that."

Bobby got up from the table and brought everyone a beer while they continued eating. They all talked, though Dean did the majority of it while Jessie did the least of it. When they were done, Jessie convinced the men to go in the livingroom while she cleaned up.

She was washing the dishes when her left arm began to ache. She didn't want to risk looking at it while someone might walk in, so she did her best to continue on with her cleaning, trying to ignore it. The dull ache soon became a painful throbbing and she was having a difficult time trying to finish the dishes. She was leaning against the counter with her head down, and her eyes closed, when someone walked up behind her, startling her.

"Jessie," Sam called, placing a gentle hand on her back. "Are you okay?"

She turned around to face him, sweat beading on her forehead. "No, I don't think so."

"What's wrong?"

She lifted up the sleeve on her left arm, pulling back the bandage from her wound. It was swollen and an angry red color. "It's infected."

He grabbed a clean cloth from one of the drawers, soaking it with cold water, then handed it to her. "Here. Put this on your forehead."

She did what she was told, feeling a slight relief from her fever, but only as long as the cloth was cool.

He helped her sit at the table, then went to ask Bobby for some assistance. When he came into the kitchen he was followed by Dean.

"You don't need to make such a big deal guys," she protested.

"You've got to be kidding," Dean said, looking at the wound. "It's seriously infected."

Bobby left the room, returning with a bottle of pills. "Take these," he said harshly, handing her two pills. "No arguing."

She sighed, took the pills, chasing them down with a swig of beer. "Happy?"

"No, I'm not. Why didn't you tell me it was this badly infected?"

"I didn't think it was."

"Come on, Jess. You know better than this. What the hell is going on with you?" he asked with frustration.

She stared blankly, not really having an answer to give. She really hadn't thought it was that bad, but she should have known better. Werewolf claws were nasty and often caused infections, though the rest of her injuries had been fine, she wondered why only the one on her left arm was infected.

Bobby handed Dean some money and a piece of paper. "Go down to the pharmacy in town, ask for Dr. Riley. Give him the paper and money and tell him I sent you. He shouldn't ask you any questions." Dean nodded. "If you have any problems, tell him to call me."

They all watched as Dean left, then Bobby turned to her seriously. "Do you like this shirt?"

"Yes," she replied with confusion.

"Then take it off or I'm gonna cut it off ya."

She glanced from Bobby, to Sam, then back to Bobby, sighed, then took off her t-shirt, she was wearing a white sports bra underneath. Both Bobby and Sam cringed, making a strange sound when they saw the wound.

"This is gonna hurt like hell, Jess."

She turned hear head the opposite way, looking at Sam, who was gazing back at her with concern. He sat beside her, taking her hand. "Squeeze it if you need to," he said warmly.

She smiled gratefully, gazing into his warm eyes that were filled with concern. His smile comforted her as Bobby began to cut the stitches she'd only put in earlier that morning.

"Son of a bitch!" she cried out, as Bobby pulled the last couple of stitches out. She'd been squeezing Sam's hand as hard as she could, but he was still smiling supportively.

"I'm afraid that was the easy part," Bobby announced. "I still need to clean it."

She cringed, knowing it was going to hurt like hell. "Distract me, please Sam," she begged, as Bobby began to clean her wound.

He smiled supportively, squeezing her hand lightly. "How long have you had that dragon tattoo on your right shoulder?" he asked.

She looked at him strangely for a moment, biting her tongue to stifle a cry. "It's not a dragon, it's actually a drake. They look similar but they're not exactly the same."

"Does it have a meaning?"

"It's a family thing. Our last name is Drake, hence the tattoo of a drake."

He wasn't sure she wanted to talk about her family, so he asked the first thing that popped into his mind. "Do you have any other tattoos?"

She winced in pain, before smiling strangely. "Yes, I have another drake tattoo, somewhere else on my body. But, probably somewhere you'll never see."

He blushed when he realized what she meant. "Oh."

She laughed, averting her eyes slightly.

"Jessie," Bobby called. She pulled her hand away from Sam, turning towards Bobby. "I've wrapped it in gauze for now. I'm gonna need to check it again tomorrow. Until the infection is gone, I don't think we should stitch it."

"Tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly.

"You're staying here tonight...And I'm not taking no for an answer."

She looked at Sam, then back to Bobby. "Fine."

Bobby gave Sam a knowing look. "Stay here, Jess. I'll be right back."

He left the room with Bobby close behind. He walked to the far end of the livingroom so he wouldn't be overheard.

"I'll need you and Dean to stay tonight as well," he explained. "I might need help with her. And you've seen how stubborn she can be on a good day."

"Sure, Bobby, whatever you need."

"Good. Go keep her company. I'm gonna go make the beds upstairs," he said, leaving quickly before he could refuse.

Sam walked back into the kitchen and noticed Jessie was trying to put her t-shirt back on, but she was having a difficult time.

"I don't think you should put that back on," he said, trying to get her untangled from the shirt. "Do you have a baggy shirt you can wear instead of this tight one?"

"Yeah, in my dufflebag," she answered, pointing across the room.

He walked over to her bag, rooted through it, pulling out a big baggy black t-shirt. He walked back to her, helping her to get the shirt on her good arm, before assisting her with her left, doing his best to get it on to her so she wouldn't have to move her arm very much.

"Thank you, Sam," she said, smiling sincerely. "You're very gentle for such a big man."

He smiled, blushing slightly. "I'm afraid your fever has gotten to you."

She laughed lightly. "I just don't have the strength to be a bitch right now I guess."

He smiled awkwardly. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Pain killers. Heavy duty ones would be nice."

"Sorry," he replied, smiling apologetically. "But I can get you a drink."

"Yes, please."

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass, placing it in front of her. He watched as she poured the glass half full, drinking half of what was in the glass. She smiled at him thankfully, but said nothing, then drank what was left.

Bobby came into the room apprehensively at first, then relaxed once he noticed Jessie seemed to be okay and no one was yelling. He was shocked and surprised but also worried. He'd never known her to be so calm, or friendly, especially when she was sick or injured. He hoped it meant she'd been thinking about what they'd discussed, but in the back of his mind he wondered if Sam had something to do with her change of attitude.

"I changed the sheets in all the bedrooms. If you feel like it, you can go lie down, Jess."

She nodded her head in agreement, she was too tired and sore to argue. "Would you help me upstairs, Sam?"

He nodded, taking her outstretched hand with his right and placed his left around her waist, lifting her gently. She leaned heavily against him as he took her up the stairs and into the first room on the right. He eased her into bed, helping her get comfortable, then covered her up in the covers carefully. He stayed for a moment, until she closed her eyes, then he began to walk out, until she called his name quietly. He turned to see her smiling gently.

"Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome."

She closed her eyes just then and went to sleep.

A/N: Much longer chapter, as promised. Now that they're together at Bobby's, what do you think is going to happen? Trouble, right? lol

Thanks for reading!