Chapter 10

As soon as Jessie made it back to the motel room, she immediately began to clean up the bite wound on her hand. It wasn't very deep—it actually looked like she'd been clawed by a large cat—not bitten by a vampire. She was glad it didn't look too bad, she was tired of everyone fussing over her injuries. She'd just finished bandaging it up, when the door of the motel flew open and the Winchester brothers came running in, closing the door behind them.

"Well that was fun," Dean said sarcastically as he flopped onto the couch.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, looking stressed. "We would've been back sooner, but we took the scenic route."

"I kinda figured," she replied.

"How's your hand?" he asked as he approached her.

"It's fine," she answered, lifting her hand quickly to show him, then placing it back at her side. "It looks more like a scratch than a bite. I don't think it will be a problem."

"Good," he replied absentmindedly, sitting down at the table.

Jessie could tell he was upset, but she had no idea what to do about it. She was still upset herself, but she was pushing it to the back of her mind until later. She wasn't sure if Sam could.

"Is anybody hungry?" she asked.

"Me!" Dean answered immediately, jumping up from the couch. Sam only shrugged his shoulders.

Jessie glanced from Sam, then to Dean, hoping he would notice her look of concern. "Do you want to go get dinner, Dean?" she asked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out some cash. "I'm buying."

He looked at her curiously for a moment, wanting to say something sarcastic, but he'd noticed his brother's morose attitude as well. "Since you're buying..." he said, snatching the money from her hand.

"Get whatever you want. I'm not feeling picky."

He was about to ask his brother what he wanted, but changed his mind. He didn't think his brother looked very hungry.

He was about to walk out of the room, when Jessie called him again. He stopped and waited to see what she wanted.

Jessie walked up to him, handing him a few more bills. "Grab some beer while you're at it." He nodded knowingly, leaving quickly.

She stared at the spot Dean had vacated for a few moments, before walking over to Sam, sitting down at the table beside him. She hesitated for a moment, before taking one of his hands into hers. "Do you need to talk, Sam?" she prodded gently.

He lifted his head up, gazing soulfully into her eyes. "I thought I was the one who was going to have to talk to you, but instead, I'm the one who's upset."

She smiled supportively, squeezing his hand. "I'm still very disturbed, Sam, don't get me wrong. But for right now, I'm concentrating on the good that we did. The lives we've saved."

"I know you're right, but I can't help thinking about those innocent children."

"I understand, Sam, believe me. I'm the one who had to—put them out of their misery. So, if anyone gets it, I do."

He shook his head lightly in understanding. "How do you do it?"

She sighed, biting her lower lip. "I block it out, Sam. That's how I've survived all this time. But it's also kept me lonely, and bitter. It's not a way to live."

He looked at her sadly for a moment, before looking away.

"That's also why I asked Dean to get some beer," she said smiling tenatively.

He glanced at her, smiling slightly. "You remind me so much of Dean."

"I'm not sure that's the kind of thing a girl likes to hear," she joked.

"Maybe not," he said, squeezing her hand. "But it's true."

She pulled her hand away slowly, feeling awkward. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she didn't think it was a come on. In fact, it sounded more like he thought of her as a friend, or maybe a sister, but nothing more. It wasn't what she'd expected, but it would make things easier for her.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked as she got up from the chair.

"No," she lied.

She was busy looking for her dufflebag, which she found on the floor by the bed. She reached in, feeling around until she found what she was looking for, a half empty bottle of vodka. She pulled it out, took the top off, taking a small swig, then put the lid back on. She was tired of waiting for Dean to get back with the beer, she needed a drink now.

Sam watched her curiously, beginning to worry. As tough as she acted, he knew she was hurting as much as he was, if not more. He hated to watch her pretend, drinking her cares away, like Dean often did. But he also knew that occasionally Dean would talk to him about what was bothering him. He didn't think she would open up like that to him, or perhaps anyone. But he could hope.

Jessie was about to call Dean—out of irritation—when he walked in the room, carrying a paper bag full of food in one hand and a case of beer in the other. She immediately ran to grab the beer, putting it in the fridge, while he placed the food on the table.

"I hope you don't mind burgers and fries," he said to both his brother and Jessie.

"I don't mind," she said, placing two bottles of beer on the table, while she opened a third for herself.

Dean grabbed a beer, took a drink, then sat at the table grabbing for the food. He'd already taken a few bites of his burger, before Jessie had even sat down. She watched him for a moment, smiling to herself. She found it somewhat amusing how he always seemed to be so ravenously hungry, as if he'd been starving for days.

Jessie only ate half of her burger and a few fries. She wasn't really that hungry, plus she was filling up on alcohol. She'd had three beers before either of the brothers had finished even one. She'd stayed calm to help Sam, but she wasn't nearly as cool with everything as she'd let on. She was unable to block the images of the children from her mind, no matter how hard she tried to. All she could do was drink and hope she would forget, at least for tonight.

After her fourth beer, Jessie sat on the couch and began to watch TV. She flipped the channel to some action movie, watching it while the brothers were sitting at the table.

"What happened while I was gone?" he asked his brother quietly.

"Nothing, why?" Sam asked curiously.

"She seemed fine when I left. It was you I was worried about."

"I'm fine, Dean."

"Then something had to have happened. What did you say to her?"

"Nothing much," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a moment, before turning in Jessie's direction. No matter what his brother said, he knew he had to have said something to upset her. Even the smallest thing seemed to set her off. He knew they'd promised Bobby to look out for her, but he was unsure exactly how to do that. She didn't make it easy.

He grabbed another beer, and proceeded to sit on the couch with Jessie. She glanced at him quickly, before turning her attention back to the TV. They sat in silence for awhile, just drinking, but eventually Dean broke the silence by commenting about the movie they were watching, while she retorted to what he'd said. The two of them bickered back and forth about the movie the entire time it was on, and even for a short time afterwards. Neither of them were angry with the other, but they both seemed to enjoy questioning the others point of view.

Sam had watched—and listened—quietly for a short time, gaining some insight into Jessie's personality. He really did see a lot of familiar personality traits in her, some of the same ones his own brother displayed every day. But there were times she seemed to be putting on an act, as if she was afraid of showing her true self. He didn't really blame her. Hunting was difficult at the best of times, and she was all alone. He couldn't imagine handling it alone, and he was male. He wondered how much more difficult it must be for her being a woman. It wasn't that he didn't think a woman could handle the job alone, he'd met a few and he wouldn't have wanted to tangle with them. There was something about a tough, independant woman he liked. But Jessie seemed different from them somehow. He wasn't sure how, but he was intrigued. He hoped in time, she would eventually let him in.

"Dean," Sam called shortly after the movie was finished. "Don't you think we should get our own room? It's getting late."

Before Dean had a chance to answer, Jessie responded. "It's a queen, Sam. You and Dean can sleep in it for tonight if you want. I'll take the couch."

"That's very kind, Jessie," Dean said. "But we wouldn't feel right letting you sleep on the couch in your own room."

"It's fine, really. I insist."

Dean was going to insist that they get their own room, but he sensed she didn't want to be alone tonight, but was too proud to admit it. It had been a really rough hunt for all of them, so he decided to let her have her own way. If he was being completely honest with himself, he would have realized he was concerned about her and wouldn't have felt right leaving her alone.

After Sam finished his third beer, he decided he'd had enough for the night, and climbed into the bed. It didn't matter that Dean and Jessie were talking loudly, he was exhausted both mentally and physically. Once he was comfortable, he fell asleep quickly.

When Jessie opened her sixth beer, Dean did his best to keep her preoccupied so she wouldn't drink it too quickly. She was quite tipsy and he was worried about her. He'd made a promise to Bobby and he intended to keep it, even if Sam had forgotten.

They continued to watch TV, each arguing over what to watch, eventually settling on the local news. When they announced their top story, which was about the missing children and the fire that claimed their lives, Jessie began to cry.

"That was our fault, Dean. That was our fault," she cried, tears falling in waves.

He moved closer to her, grasping her by the shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "Jessie. That wasn't our fault. It was the vampires, remember?"

She shook her head roughly, near panic. "No, no, it was us. We killed them."

"They were vampires, Jessie," he said calmly.

"But I killed them. I cut their little heads off. Those poor babies."

Dean shook her gently, trying to snap her out of her fit. But she continued to cry and blame it all on herself. He didn't know what possessed him at that moment, he'd only wanted her to calm down, but he pulled her closer, kissing her.

Jessie was so shocked by the kiss, she stopped crying, stopped moving and even stopped breathing for a moment, their lips still pressed together. She was still quite drunk or she would have been able to think of the consequences, stop herself from just seizing the moment, but that's exactly what happened.

Jessie wrapped her arms around Dean, who did the same to her, and kissed him with fervor. Her body automatically reacted to the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body, sensations she hadn't felt in so long. So long ago, it was easy to lose herself in them. It had been too long she'd denied herself the touch of another.

Dean wasn't drunk, but he had been drinking and was no longer thinking, at least not with his brain. He leaned Jessie against the couch, kissing her lips, working his way down to her neck and her chest, then lifted her t-shirt over her head, throwing it aside. He continued to kiss her, pulling off his own shirt. It wasn't long before both of them were naked and Jessie was straddling Dean.

A short time later, Dean was lying on the couch holding Jessie. She was passed out asleep lying across him, while he was awake, contemplating what he'd done. He was filled with remorse and regret for sleeping with her and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Bobby was going to kill him. Sam was going to hate him. And who knew what Jessie was gonna feel towards him when she woke up. He knew it wouldn't be anything good. It took awhile, but eventually he fell into a restless, and uncomfortable sleep.

Sam opened his eyes early in the morning, noticing his brother wasn't in the bed with him. He wondered what that could possibly mean, and if it was a bad thing, or a good thing. If he was a betting man, he would have bet on bad. He just had no idea how right he was.

He climbed out of the bed, looking in the direction of the couch. He noticed that Dean's arm and head were sticking out of one end, but as he glanced the entire length of it, he noticed the legs sticking out of the other end were much smaller and feminine.

He couldn't have done that, Sam thought to himself. There's no way.

He crept slowly towards the couch, heading towards the end where his brother's arm was sticking out. As he got close enough, he could see what he'd expected—but didn't want to see—and he was upset. His brother was shirtless and so was Jessie, from what he could see. Dean was laying stretched out almost the entire length of the couch, one arm behind his head and the other was placed on Jessie's back. She was laying sideways between his legs, but her upper body was twisted somewhat, almost lying face down against his bare chest, one arm stuck behind him and the couch, the other was wrapped around his upper body. The blanket that was wrapped around them was pulled up as high as her shoulders, but he could see the side of her breast just barely peeking out by her arm.

Sam felt hurt and betrayed by his brother—for so many reasons—but most of all he was angry. Angry that his brother had taken advantage of Jessie while she was so intoxicated and vulnerable. She probably didn't even know what was happening.

He didn't know what to do with himself, his emotions were all over the place. He wanted to yell at his brother—or perhaps punch him out—but he knew that wouldn't do any good. It took him a few moments, but eventually he decided not to wake him. Instead, he freshened up in the bathroom, changed his clothes, packed up his dufflebag and laptop, grabbed the keys to Dean's car from the kitchen table and left the hotel room. He stood by the car in hesitation for a minute, before unlocking it, throwing his dufflebag and laptop inside, then hopped in and took off with no destination in mind.

Jessie began to stir shortly after Sam left the hotel room. She was slightly awake, but she'd kept her eyes closed because her head was pounding painfully. It was only moments before she began to open her eyes and realize she was lying on top of something lumpy and warm. She opened her eyes fully, realizing she was laying on someone. She tried to lift herself up quickly, but her head hurt and the arm that was pinned between the couch and Dean was aching and partially numb.

Her movement woke Dean up, who was so ashamed he didn't want to move, but he had to deal with the consequences sometime. Better to just get it over with. He tried to half sit up, while helping her sit up at the same time. She didn't really want his help—she was angry and horrified—but she couldn't get up without it. Once she managed to sit up, she ripped the blanket out of Dean's grasp to cover her naked body, then turned several shades of pink and red as she glanced at Dean fully nude. He grinned at her embarrassment for a moment, before he remembered it was an inappropriate time.

Jessie opened her mouth to yell at Dean, but she couldn't think of one thing to say that was harsh enough for the moment, except perhaps a string of obcenities. That was until he opened his big mouth.

"I'm sorry, Jessie."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" she spat venomously. "Sorry! That's all you've got to say is, sorry?"

"I'm really sorry, Jessie. I don't know what else I can say," he said, sounding as remorseful as he could.

She shook her head harshly in disbelief. "I can't even decide where to begin," she replied with frustration, on the brink of tears.

The longer she stood in one spot, holding the blanket around her and glaring at him, the more angry and frustrated she became. She sighed deeply, grabbed her dufflebag and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Jessie began to cry the instant she was in the privacy of the bathroom. She wasn't even sure why she was crying—she hated to cry—but she was sure the headache had something to do with it. She didn't want to think it had anything to do with having sex with Dean, she couldn't even admit to herself that it had happened. She just wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep, hoping that once she awoke, everything would be like it was before she'd met him and Sam. But she was a realist, and that wasn't going to happen. She decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and jumped in the shower, drowning her cares away for at least a few minutes.

When she was done showering and dressed, she decided it was time to face Dean again. She hesitated at the door for a moment, before walking back into the room. She paused just outside of the doorway, glancing towards the couch where she could see the back of his head. She hoped he'd gotten dressed, she knew she couldn't deal with him if he hadn't.

Dean stood up and turned around, glancing at her with shame. "I can apologize until I'm blue in the face, but I know it won't make up for what I've done."

"Damn right!" she snapped. "It's been almost nine years since I've had sex with anyone and the next time I do, I can't even remember it."

"You don't remember anything at all?"

"No!"

"Is that the only reason you're angry?" he asked tenatively.

"No!" she screamed in reply. "Does it bruise your overly large ego that I don't remember? I guess it was nothing special, huh?"

"Now, now, let's not get nasty," he replied, looking insulted.

She glared at him angrily, while absentmindedly rubbing her right temple. Her head was aching, she felt exhausted and all she wanted to do was sleep. "I need coffee," she said, changing the subject for the moment. She would deal with him when she felt a little better.

"I grabbed you one while you were in the shower," he said, gesturing towards the table.

She glared at him suspiciously, then walked over to the table, sat down, and took the coffee in her hand. "Thank you," she said quietly, then took a sip. "It doesn't let you off the hook though."

Dean walked over to the table hesitantly, before sitting down on the chair across from Jessie. He watched her, looking apologetic, but was at a loss for words. He could have berated her, blamed her for what happened after she'd led him on days before while they waited for pizza, but that would've only made him feel better for a moment. The truth was, he really liked her, despite her often cold and detached attitude. He knew it was her defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close to her. And when he looked deep inside, he realized she wasn't much different than himself in that respect. The most difficult part of the situation for him was that he'd hurt his brother. He knew Sam liked her, even though he hadn't come right out and said it, and he went ahead and slept with her in the same room he was sleeping in anyway. He felt like such an ass. Never in all their years travelling together did the brothers ever get involved with a woman the other one was interested in. He didn't even know how he was going to make it up to him, or even face him.

"Sam's gone," Dean blurted out abruptly, to break the silence.

Jessie gazed at him with concern. "What do you mean, gone?"

"He took all of his stuff—and my car."

"Do you think he'll come back?" she asked hesitantly.

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, looking guilty. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" she asked irritated. "Don't you know your brother better than anyone?"

"I tried calling him, but he's got his phone turned off. I have no idea where he might've gone."

"Why did he leave?"

He took a sip of his coffee, making it easier to avoid her piercing gaze. "I pissed him off."

She was about to ask what he'd done, but then it dawned on her. He must have woke up and found her with his brother. Why that would make him upset was a mystery to her, but she didn't know the two of them well enough to figure it out.

"Did you call Bobby?"

"No," he replied guiltily.

"Dammit, Dean, why not?"

He sighed deeply, looking ashamed. "If I call Bobby, than he's going to find out about last night. And if he finds out, he's going to tear me a new one."

She shook her head in disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you? You'd rather your brother be out there somewhere pissed off and alone, than face up to your mistake?" She pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing Bobby's number.

"Hey, Jess. Is anything wrong?"

"I'm not sure yet. Have you heard from Sam?"

"Sam? Isn't he with you?"

"No. But if you hear from him, get him to call me or Dean."

"What's going on, Jess?" he asked concerned.

"I don't have time to discuss it, Bobby. If Sam calls you, let me know. Please."

He sighed. "Will do."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Be safe," he added before hanging up.

Jessie looked at Dean angrily. "Get your shit together. We're gonna go look for Sam."

Dean hesitated for a moment, before jumping up from the table and started to pack up his stuff. Jessie did the same thing, only it took her a bit longer. Her clothes from the night before were still scattered around the couch. She stooped over to pick them up, her face turning pink in shame. She was glad Dean hadn't been watching, she would've hated for him to know. She was embarrassed enough, without letting on how much so. She'd let her guard down, let herself get close to the Winchester brothers, and now she was paying the price. She'd somehow gotten between them and she wasn't about to let it continue.

"Let's go," she barked at Dean, as she stuffed her remaining clothes into her dufflebag.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he replied, picking up the last of his stuff.

Jessie fumbled with her keys as she left the motel room. She found the right key to unlock her car by the time she reached it. She stopped to look at Dean impatiently, before unlocking the door and jumping in. It took him a moment before he got into the passenger's seat and buckled up.

"Where are we going?" he asked her curiously.

"Well, he hasn't contacted Bobby, so I have an idea where he might've gone," she replied, starting the car.

"Where?"

"Just something I mentioned to him the other day," she replied absentmindedly, concentrating on backing the car up. "It's not far."

Dean kept quiet for a short time. He felt awkward and had no idea what to say. But when a particular annoying song came on the radio, he reached out to change the channel, which earned him a very stern look. "Don't you dare touch my radio."

"But, I..." he stammered.

"My car. My radio," she stated matter-of-factly.

He sighed exaggeratedly, crossing his arms, mumbling under his breath. "I hope it's not far."

She wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep herself from laughing out loud. She didn't want to think he was off the hook that easily.

The next forty five minutes of driving was spent in silence, except for Jessie's singing. Dean found she enjoyed singing to almost any song that came on the radio. He would have liked to say it annoyed him, but he actually thought she had a beautiful singing voice, it was just the choice of music he didn't like.

They'd been in the car almost an hour, when Jessie turned down a country road in a small county. Dean had been quiet almost the entire ride, but he was becoming impatient. It was probably a bad idea, but he decided it was finally time to open his mouth.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere."

"Why would Sam come out here?"

She glanced over at him for a second, before once again paying attention to the road. "I told Sam about my house the other day. I was telling him how it was my sanctuary, the place I go when I'm feeling lost or out of touch. I thought he might have decided to go there."

"You thought? You mean we've drove an hour away from the last place we knew where Sam was, on a hunch?"

She sighed. "Grab my laptop and open it."
Dean grabbed her laptop from the backseat, sat it on his lap and opened it up as she asked.

"See the little camera symbol on the desktop?" He shook his head in response. "Double click that. It'll open a menu with a drop down list. Choose Outside House, main camera."

Dean followed her instructions exactly. Once he'd chosen the option from the drop down menu, it opened a window with a view from a security camera.

"What do you see?" she asked knowingly.

"My car!"

"I told you I knew where he'd be," she said with a smug grin.

He was going to say something sarcastic in response, but before he opened his mouth, he decided against it. It wouldn't be very prudent to antagonize her at the moment, not while he was still walking on thin ice with her. Instead he closed her laptop and set it back on the backseat.

It was only a few minutes later that Jessie turned the car down a long dirt driveway that led to her house. She felt a strange twinge of guilt and sadness run through her, but she pushed it out of her mind for the moment, she could deal with that later. The only thing she had to worry about right now was Sam.

As she pulled the car up near the house, she glanced at Dean warningly. "Let me go and talk to him first." It sounded more like a demand than a suggestion, so he decided not to question her. He just nodded in agreement.

Jessie got out of the car, approaching Sam hesitantly. He was sitting on the front porch, watching her intently. His eyes followed her as she stood beside him, hesitating for a moment before sitting down.

"Are you okay, Sam?"

He pondered her question for a moment, before asking one of his own. "How did you find me?"

"Just a hunch," she stated matter-of-factly. "I told you I'm a good hunter."

He smiled lightly, but it barely touched his eyes. "I see you didn't kill my brother."

"No, but not because I didn't want to," she said, laying a hand on his knee. "Why did you leave, Sam?"

He sighed, looking uncomfortable. "I couldn't bare to see you with my brother."

"Why, Sam? Why did it bother you so much you had to leave?"

"You know why."

"No, Sam, I don't think I do."

He shrugged in defeat, his shoulders slumped forward. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Why wouldn't it matter, Sam? It matters to me."

He took his hand laying it on top of hers, which was still on his knee. He was going to remove her hand, but instead he held it tightly. He tried to gaze into her eyes, but he couldn't, not without remembering her lying naked on top of his brother.

"Sam," she called, when he didn't say anything for a minute.

He sighed, finally able to look at her. "I was angry and hurt. My brother knew—how I felt about you. But obviously he didn't care."

She squirmed uncomfortably, but didn't take her eyes off of him. "And how do you feel about me?"

"I really like you, Jessie. Maybe more...if, well, like I said, it doesn't matter now."

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run from her emotions. "I really like you too, Sam," she said, smiling encouragingly. "And what happened between me and your brother, well, it was nothing. I don't even remember it."

He looked down sadly. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?" she asked curiously. "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Dean won. I don't mess with women he's been with. It's just the way things work between us."

She narrowed her eyes in irritation. "So, you're saying you're giving up because Dean took advantage of me while I was drunk? I wasn't even sober enough to make a choice. If I really wanted to be a drama queen, I could even go so far as saying he raped me. Of course I would never be as dramatic as that, but, it's much less idiotic than your attitude."

He looked at her strangely for a moment, then smiled tenatively. "That's quite the pep talk. Showing me how stupid I am then insulting me. Good strategy."

"Did it work?" she asked with a grin.

He laughed for a moment, then hesitated. "You're going to kill me for saying this, but you still remind me so much of Dean."

She narrowed her eyes in mock irritation before smiling. "As long as I got through to you."

"You did," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Good. Then it's time to work things out with your brother," she suggested, though her eyes said it was more of a demand. "Whatever happens, I will not come between you and your brother. The instant that happens, I'll refuse to have anything to do with either one of you. Got it?"

He nodded. "Loud and clear."

"Fine. I'm gonna go in the house and tidy up, while you and your brother talk," she said standing up. She tried to pull her hand away but he held on to it. "And leave the weapons in the car," she grinned.

He smiled, releasing her hand. He watched her unlock the door and walk in, before turning towards the driveway. He wasn't sure how she'd made him feel better, but she had. He still didn't want to face his brother, but he knew he had to at some point.

A/N: Yup, I did it. But maybe it will end up being a good thing. Maybe? I hope I didn't offend anyone with the swearing. I don't normally use obcenities in my stories, but I believe that situation called for it.

So what did you think of this chapter?

Thanks for reading!