Chapter 17
When Jessie and Sam arrived back at Bobby's house, they were greeted by an irritable Dean. He seemed to be angry with his brother for leaving him behind, at least that was what he was telling them. Jessie suspected it was something more than that, but she was in no mood to get into it with him. She was on an almost euphoric high that she didn't really want to come down from.
While Sam was busy explaining to Dean and Bobby what they had found while they were out, Jessie poured herself a shot of whiskey, swallowed it in one gulp, then went upstairs and climbed into 'her' bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.
Jessie woke up early the next morning before the sun had even risen. Her watch said it was almost five a.m. and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she couldn't, she was wide awake.
After lying in bed for a short time debating whether she should get up or not, she finally did get up and have a shower. When she was done she went downstairs. By this time it was half way to six a.m. and she was hungry. She hadn't actually eaten much at the diner with Sam the night before, she had been too busy talking and enjoying his company.
She made a pot of coffee before searching the kitchen for food. She found a jar of peanut butter, which she used to make some toast. She didn't feel like cooking and she didn't want to wake anyone up. She was used to her solitude, so being able to steal a few quiet moments to herself made her feel much more calm and destressed.
She sat at the table with her toast and coffee, watching the shadows in the kitchen move as the sun came shining through the windows. She was trying desperately to think of something other than what had happened the night before, but she couldn't push it out of her mind no matter how hard she tried. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself. She needed to get her mind onto other things, such as the Alpha werewolf, but the all too fresh memories of the night before kept flooding in.
When she finished her toast, she opened Sam's laptop, which happened to be sitting on the kitchen table. She began to search through the news around the area the werewolf had last been seen. She was disappointed—but at the same time relieved—when she didn't find anything. It meant no one she knew was dead. She didn't think she could handle losing anyone else. She'd had way too much loss in her life, it was something you could never get used to no matter how seasoned the hunter.
She was way too wrapped up in researching to notice when Dean came walking into the kitchen, until he poured himself a cup of coffee. She raised her head up to acknowledge his presence, then went back to researching.
He sat down at the table across from her, watching her with interest. He drank nearly half of what was in his cup before he decided to speak to her.
"What're you doing with Sam's computer?"
She looked up, glancing at him with irritation. "Watching porn, what do you think?"
He couldn't help but laugh slightly at her response. "Where's yours?"
"Upstairs," she replied. "Sam's was already here so I decided to use it. I didn't think he would mind."
He gave her a shrewd look. "What happened between the two of you yesterday?"
She'd been prepared for this question, or she might have given herself away. "The usual. Talking, driving, eating."
He seemed to be studying her, looking for some kind of tell, or reaction to give herself away. He didn't know if anything had gone on between his brother and Jessie, but he did suspect it.
"The usual, huh?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yup. Nothing to write home about," she replied sarcastically.
He decided to try another approach; reverse psychology.
"I just thought you were the one responsible for his good mood and perma-smile," he said with a grin.
She glared at him, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "If you're accusing me of something, why don't you just come right out and say it, Dean?"
"I'm not accusing you of anything," he replied flatly. "I'm just surprised he spent several hours alone with you and came home in a good mood."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.
He seemed to be grinning with delight by her response. "I'm just shocked that anyone could spend a few hours alone with you and not be in a bad mood by the end of it."
She snorted. "Oh, I see how it is. You have a case of sour grapes."
"Sour grapes?"
"Yup, it's written all over your face," she replied teasingly.
"What is?"
"You're jealous," she said with a laugh.
"Jealous? You've got to be kidding?" he said with disbelief.
"Yeah. You're jealous because I can get along with your brother without resorting to anger or sarcasm."
"I am not jealous of my brother."
"Really?" she said slyly. "What if something did happen between us? You gonna tell me you wouldn't be jealous?"
He laughed nonchalantly. "I should've known nothing happened between the two of you."
She smiled triumphantly, but said nothing else. His attempt at reverse psychology had amused her so much she had to play his game in return. There was one thing she'd never told the brothers about her time at university. She may have majored in Computer Sciences, but she had also minored in Psychology. It had come in handy over the years while she was hunting. And obviously served her well against Dean. He'd never seen it coming.
She turned her attention back to the computer, trying to keep from looking smug. She knew he didn't suspect anything and that was good. She knew Bobby would be much more difficult to fool though. She really hoped that Sam had dealt with it the night before, she wasn't sure she could handle him right now. Everytime she thought about Sam she would smile involuntarily. She couldn't help it. But it needed to stop before someone suspected something.
A few minutes later, Bobby came into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the table with Jessie. She had raised her head to acknowledge his presence, but she didn't say anything and neither did he.
Dean left the room shortly afterwards, leaving only the two of them in the room together. Jessie could feel a growing tension in the silence between them, even though she'd kept her attention on what she was researching online.
"Would you like me to make you breakfast?" she asked him, hoping to break the tension.
"Did you eat yet?" he asked.
"I had toast. But I don't mind cooking for you."
He looked at her shrewdly. "Or are you trying to avoid talking to me?"
"Why would I do that?" she asked.
"Come on, kid," he said with disappointment. "Sam came back grinning like an idjit last night. Do you really think I wouldn't notice?"
"We had a nice trip, Bobby," she replied, trying to keep her voice from giving her away. "We talked and had a few laughs."
"Please just tell me you didn't, uh—"
"No! No, we didn't," she said before he could elaborate.
"Good," he said, narrowing his eyes shrewdly. "Good. Now I'll take that breakfast, if you're still offering."
She smiled affectionately. "Of course I'm still offering, old man."
"Then get cookin'. I'm not gettin' any younger ya know," he replied with a smile.
She smiled, standing up from the table. She gave him a mocking look, then went to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and placed it on the counter. She opened the ice box, and found some sausage to go with the eggs.
When she was done cooking and had made a plate for Bobby, she made one for Dean, because he asked, and one for Sam when he finally made it to the kitchen. She sat at the table after they'd been served and nibbled on some sausage.
"Would it kill you to buy some fruit or something, old man?" she teased.
The brothers stared at each other in shock, but Bobby was smiling.
"I buy fruit."
"Yeah, in pies."
He laughed. "Hey, it's still fruit."
She smiled and stood up from the table. "I'm gonna go into town right now and get you some real groceries."
"No rabbit food, Jess," he called as she walked out of the door.
Jessie took her time at the grocery store. She wasn't in a hurry to get back to Bobby's, at least not at the moment. She was feeling incredibly awkward being around Sam now, and was seriously regretting everything. She knew that he'd promised to take things slow. But everytime she'd caught his eye, she saw more than that and she was sure that both Dean and Bobby could see it as well.
After she'd packed up the car, she drove through town slowly. It wasn't a big town so slowly took a lot of effort. Her windows were down, since it was a beautifully warm May morning. She was nearly out of town when she swore she heard a woman's scream. She wanted to ignore it chalking it up to her imagination, but she couldn't.
She turned her car around, turning down a side road where the houses were spaced out by large properties, pulling her car over to the side of the road and began to listen. She thought she heard screaming, but she couldn't be sure. She reached under the passenger side, pulling out a hand gun, then under her seat she pulled out a spare clip.
She got out of the car hastily stuffing her keys into her jeans pocket, then checked to make sure her gun was loaded–which it was–then tucked it into the back of her pants as she approached the nearest property.
The nearest house was a small wooden house that seemed run down and need a lot of repairs, including a fresh coat of paint. As soon as she walked up to the front step, she saw what appeared to be fresh blood. The front door was slightly ajar, so she stood on the side of it, listening. She thought she could hear some movement inside, but she couldn't be positive. She took a long, deep breath, then moved slowly through the open door, into a cluttered and messy livingroom.
Jessie noticed there was a trail of blood that continued from the doorway, through the livingroom that led to another door, which was also slightly ajar. She stepped slowly through the room, stopping beside the door at the far end of the livingroom, listening. She could hear whimpering from somewhere on the other side of the door.
She swallowed hard, taking another long, deep breath then kicked the door open widely, running through it. She was in a bright, but messy, kitchen. The kitchen table was on it's side, chairs were lying in broken heaps on the floor and broken dishes were shattered all over. There was a woman cowering in the corner of the room by the fridge. She was bleeding profusely from a large gash on her forehead and several cuts and abrasions on her arms and legs.
She had to walk slowly over to the woman, being careful to avoid the broken shards of ceramic and glass strewn across the floor. As she laid a hand on the woman's arm, she jumped, opening her eyes widely and let out a screech. Jessie had to calm her down, doing her best to keep her quiet.
"What happened?" she asked in hushed tones.
"This thing attacked me," she whined.
"What did it look like?"
"I don't know. It had claws, freaky eyes and sharp teeth," she whimpered. "It growled like an animal but stood up like a man. What the hell was that thing?"
Jessie reached up and grabbed a towel that was sitting on the counter beside the fridge. She pushed it up to the wound on the woman's head and told her to hold it there.
"Where are you going?" the woman asked as she stood up.
"I'm going to go find that thing and kill it," she said, pulling her gun from her pants. "Just stay here and—"
That was all she managed to get out of her mouth before a blurry figure ran into the room from the livingroom door, knocking her aside.
She fell sideways into some broken dishes, suffering cuts on her arms, legs and face, but she was able to turn around and fire her gun at the creature. She missed it, giving it a chance to lunge at her again. She managed to push herself away from the attack by using her legs to push against him, sending her sliding across the floor on her back.
She was stunned as she watched the creature bend down, grasp the woman by one shoulder, then rip her heart out with it's other hand. Jessie had already suspected it was the Alpha werewolf—no other werewolf could possibly turn in the middle of the day—but now she was positive. She knew even before he turned his twisted, grotesque face towards her—his maw dripping with the scarlet blood from the now dead woman's heart—that it was him.
She had no idea how she was going to kill him. Her previous attempt had failed, a silver bullet through his heart hadn't managed to kill him. And now she realized her gun wasn't loaded with silver bullets anyway. The only weapon she had that could even hurt him was her silver knife, which she always wore in a sheath around her left ankle.
As the beast approached her, he was gazing at her with his ancient, hungry eyes that seemed to be longing to make a meal of her as well. But he stopped short, almost grinning with amusement.
"I'm going to kill you, Jessie," he hissed through his angry, sharp fanged mouth. "But not today."
Her heavy breathing slowed for a moment, unsure she had heard him properly. She was reaching for the knife in her ankle sheath, when he turned around and walked out the way he had come, leaving her to stare at the vacant space in astonishment.
She slowed her breathing down, listening carefully, but she heard nothing. She glanced at the dead woman sadly, before scrambling to her feet, using the upended table as support. Once on her feet, she was able to see the cuts and scratches she received from the broken dishes. Most of them were superficial, but there were a couple deeper ones she would have to take care of when she could. She even had to pull a jagged piece of glass out of the soft part of her upper arm. Letting out a strangled moan as she did so.
As soon as she was positive she was going to stay upright, she left the house and headed back to her car. She fought to get the car keys out of her pocket without dropping them in her haste, unlocking the passenger side door, then clicking the unlock button. She reached into the glove compartment, digging around until she found her spare cell phone.
She powered up the phone, hoping it still had enough battery life to make a phone call. She normally made sure it was always charged, but she'd been distracted lately. She decided to chastise herself for that later, then called the Sioux Falls sheriff department.
As soon as the call was complete, she got into her car and drove as fast as she could out of the area. She made it back to Bobby's house in under two minutes, it should have taken five or more from where she was. She sat in her car for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts, before walking into the house.
No one was in the room to greet Jessie when she walked in, but as she walked into the kitchen, Dean walked in as well, coming from the livingroom.
"What the hell?" he yelled as he seen the numerous cuts all over her. "Bobby! Sam!"
"Dean, shut up!" she yelled back. "I'm fine."
"You are not okay," he replied with concern. "Have you seen you?"
Bobby and Sam came running into the room, looking shocked and exasperated.
"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked, a deep frown wrinkled his forehead making him look much older than his years.
She proceeded to explain everything that had happened, then suggested that Bobby needed to call the sheriff. She would want to know the truth about what had happened. Then she asked the brothers to go and get the groceries out of the car. She watched them leave—Sam seemed to be much more reluctant to leave—before she headed upstairs to look after her wounds.
She was standing in the bathroom naked, except for her underwear, when she heard a knock at the door.
"Can I come in?" the voice called quietly with concern.
She sighed, unlocking the door so he could come in, then locked it again, turning her back to him.
"What is it, Sam?" she asked with irritation. She was in too much pain to try and be civil or worry about his feelings.
"Uh, um," he stammered, looking away from her. "I was wondering if you needed help cleaning up the wounds on your back."
It took her a moment to realize she was standing in the room with Sam, almost completely naked. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her this exact way before, but this time it was different. He had feelings for her. It made her feel more than naked.
"Sam, I don't think this is a good idea," she said, wrapping her arms around the front of her.
He walked up behind her slowly, running a finger gently down her back, starting from her shoulder, stopping as he reached her waist. He smiled as he noticed the goosebumps he'd raised on her back.
"Sam, please," she said with exasperation. "I think you need to leave."
He walked around her, placing his hands on either side of her arms, which were still wrapped around herself.
"Are you okay?"
"Dammit, Sam," she replied with frustration. "Can't this wait?"
"No," he replied adamantly. "You wanna know why?"
She sighed in frustration. "Fine. Why?"
"Because I know that while you're standing here exposed, you'll be more honest with me," he replied, smiling triumphantly.
"Sam," she whined, trying to cover more of herself with her arms.
"I know you're acting like you're fine but I know that you're not."
"You know what, Sam? You are not a shrink and I am not gonna play this game with you right now," she replied sternly.
"Why do you have to hide your feelings?" he asked with frustration. "You do know that if anything, I understand."
She sighed loudly and shook her head. "What do you want me to say, Sam? That I'm scared. I would be stupid not to be." She threw her arms up in frustration. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to break. And just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I feel the need to puke my feelings everywhere!"
Sam was silent, watching her wrap her arms around herself again, before he was able to speak.
"I didn't say you were going to break, Jessie. I just want you to know you can confide in me if you need to."
"Well thanks for the offer but I'm fine," she replied harshly. "Now get out."
"You sure you don't want me to help you?"
"No."
He nodded then walked out of the room without another word.
Jessie locked the door after he left, then stood staring at the door for a few moments thinking. She knew Sam had meant well, and she wasn't really angry at him for trying, in fact, she thought it was kind of sweet. The problem was, they had a connection on a deeper level, like he seemed to understand her, and that frightened her almost as much as the Alpha werewolf.
She walked back over to the mirror to glance over her wounds. Most of them weren't deep, but it almost looked like she'd fallen onto a large cheese grater. There was hardly a part of her body that didn't have at least one scratch, or cut on it, even her head and face. The only part she was positive that was cut free was her feet.
She threw her underwear onto the floor, before jumping into the shower. She let the water cascade over her, washing out her wounds. Most of them were already closed and beginning to scab over, but the water softened the scabs and any of the wounds that still had pieces of glass or ceramic in them were washed away, making the wounds bleed once again.
She was looking down, watching the once clear water fall over her skin, turn a red color as it ran down her body. It looked much worse than it felt, but that wasn't to say she wasn't in pain. Her head was aching from hitting it against the wall as she was knocked down by the werewolf, and her muscles were aching as well.
She stayed in the shower for a little longer than was necessary. Mainly because it felt warm and comforting, but also, she was trying to avoid facing anyone else at the moment.
She wasn't even sure why everyone was making a big fuss. It wasn't the first time some creature had gotten the jump on her, or the first time she came away from a fight with injuries. She expected Bobby to make a fuss–he did think of her as his responsibility–but she hated that the Winchesters treated her like she was just some girl who couldn't take care of herself. She'd managed to survive almost nine years without their assistance and their level of training, and she planned on living many more without their help.
After she was finished dressing, she walked down into the kitchen with her ripped clothes and placed them in a drawer Bobby often kept rags for various reasons. Bobby and the Winchesters seemed to be watching her, but as she turned around, the brothers avoided her gaze, but Bobby didn't.
"Feel better now?" he asked her.
She glanced at him curiously. "I was fine before."
"You didn't look fine."
"And I hurt," she replied frustrated. "But I'm okay."
"I hope so."
She was angry by his response, but she decided not to react. She didn't want to continue with subject.
"Did the groceries get put away?"
He gazed at her hard for a moment, before replying. "Yes."
"Did you talk to Sheriff Mills?"
"Yeah. She wants to talk to you though," he replied with a very slight grin.
She laughed. "Any excuse for Jodie to come and visit, huh Bobby?" she teased.
He looked uncomfortable, glaring at her then the Winchesters, daring them to say anything. All that could be heard was quiet chuckling.
Once the room fell into an awkward silence, she decided it would be okay drop her guard slightly. She went to the cupboard, grabbed a few painkillers, then washed them down with a shot of whiskey. She waited for someone to say something to her, but no one did. It actually surprised her.
She went up to her room to retrieve her laptop and brought it down into the livingroom. She plopped herself onto an empty chair, then began doing research. She knew the werewolf was taunting her, but she was positive he had some kind of routine or pattern, and she wasn't going to give up until she found it.
Her head began to ache not even an hour later, despite the painkillers. She figured the effort of looking at the computer screen was making it worse, but she didn't want to stop. Not only did she want answers, but the screen in front of her kept everyone from bothering her. It was only a few minutes later that the Sheriff showed up, so she was able to take a break and speak with her.
The talk with Jodie went fine, and was very brief, just as she had expected. She took Jessie's word about what happened at face value and the only reason she had come to speak to her in person was so she could visit with Bobby. Not that she would admit it, or Bobby. She wanted to tease him, but she couldn't do it. She would be happy for him if he could find happiness. He deserved it more than anyone she knew.
When she went back to do more research on her computer, she could barely look at the screen for more than a couple of minutes at a time without dizzying pain. The pain in her head had gotten much worse than a usual head injury, but she didn't want to admit it anyone.
She got up from her seat quietly and snuck outside without being seen. She got into her car, sat behind the wheel and put the keys into the ignition. But as she sat there, she couldn't start the engine because she was having a hard time seeing clearly. She was there for a minute, before she heard a rap at the window of the driver's side. Turning her head slowly, she could tell who it was, even though her vision was blurry.
"What are you doing, Jessie?" Dean asked as he opened the door.
She sighed in defeat. "Can you take me to the hospital, Dean? Please?"
"Why? What's wrong?" he asked with worry.
"Just please take me. I don't feel well."
He wanted to argue with her, make her tell him more, but the look in her eyes frightened him. He waited until she moved in to the passenger's seat, then jumped into the driver's seat and took off without another word.
The ride to the hospital was pretty quiet. Jessie explained why she needed to go and then she was silent. She couldn't talk even if she had wanted to because she felt sick to her stomach, and she was afraid to get sick all over her car.
After telling the triage nurse what was wrong, and handing over her insurance information, she was taken in immediately and sent for a CAT scan. She fell into unconcsciousness while waiting for the test.
Dean called Bobby as soon as Jessie had been taken in. He paced the waiting room floor anxiously, until Bobby and Sam showed up. He wasn't allowed to see her since he wasn't family, but Bobby was listed as her next of kin, allowing him to be able to visit with her.
When they got up to her room, she was unconcious and hooked up to several machines. Bobby began to pace anxiously, looking much older than his years. He would glance at Sam and Dean every once in awhile, pain etched in his eyes. Neither of them knew what to say, so they kept silent.
The doctor walked into the room about thirty minutes later. He checked her chart, her vitals, then turned his attention to Bobby.
"What's wrong with her, doc?" Bobby asked anxiously.
"You're daughter's brain had begun to swell due to an injury she sustained earlier in the day," he replied.
Bobby glanced at the Winchesters frightened. "Is she gonna be okay?"
"Well, we're not sure, Mr. Singer. Her brain had swollen enough to cause pressure on her optic nerve. But as it stands now, the medication we've given her to bring the swelling down seems to be working. We're cautiously optimistic at this moment."
"Thank you, doctor," he said shaking his hand.
The doctor nodded, then left the room.
Once the doctor was gone, Bobby sat down in the chair beside the bed looking weary and sorrowful. Both Sam and Dean stood in the room silently waiting. Neither knew what to say to make Bobby feel better.
It wasn't long before the awkward silence became too much for Dean. He needed a distraction and he thought it might help Bobby as well.
"Bobby," he called quietly. He waited until he looked up at him before going on. "Why did the doctor call Jessie your daughter?"
He looked confused for a moment. "Because she is."
"How is that possible?" Dean asked with confusion.
"Not that way you idjit," he replied with a smirk of disbelief. "Although she was an adult when her grandfather died, I insisted on adopting her in case anything ever happened."
He shook his head looking confused. "And you never told us about this?"
"Why does everything have to be about you, Dean?"
"It doesn't, but–"
"But, what?" he asked shortly. "She didn't tell you either, did she?"
Dean glanced at his brother for assistance, but he only shrugged his shoulders in reply. He decided to leave the room for a short time to give Bobby time to calm down.
Sam hung around the room, not being able to leave Bobby or Jessie alone. He felt like he needed to stay and support Bobby, and couldn't find himself able to leave for more than a few minutes at a time. He knew his brother had been watching him with suspicion, but at the moment he didn't care. He just wanted to make sure she was okay, before he would relax.
Sam was able to steal a few moments alone with her shortly before visiting hours were over, while Bobby had gone to use the washroom. He spoke gently to her while holding her hand, hoping she would wake, but she didn't.
Once visiting hours were over, he drove Bobby home in Jessie's car, not trusting him to be able to drive while he was upset.
A/N: Sam seems to be pushing Jessie pretty hard, doesn't it? Do you think she'll respond well to that? How do you think it will change things when she gets out of the hospital?
Thanks for reading!