Chapter 20

The trip back to Bobby's house was completely quiet. Jessie had given into her despair—and exhaustion—lying her head against the passenger side door, allowing the humming sound and vibration of the tires on the road lull her to sleep.

When they arrived at his house, Bobby had to wake her up, helping her into the house. He sat her at the kitchen table while he cleansed the wounds on her arms with alcohol. Once he was sure they were clean, he wrapped them in bandages.

"I'm so sorry, Jessie," he said as he sat at the table next to her.

She looked at him confused for a moment. "Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry for not knowing what to say or do to make you feel better," he replied looking apologetic.

"Oh, Bobby," she replied with a tiny grin. "You're just so adorable."

"You must be feeling better if you're in the mood to tease."

"Did you—"

Dean and Sam walked into the house, cutting her question short.

"How's my car?" she asked Sam seriously.

"It's fine," he replied quickly, throwing her keys onto the table.

She turned her attention back to Bobby, bluntly asking the question she'd been interrupted from asking. "Did you know John was the one who killed my sister?"

His eyes flew wide in shock by the bluntness of her question. "No, Jess. He never told me and neither did your parents."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, then shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to bed." She stood up immediately, leaving the room without another word.

She practically fell into her bed as she got into her room. She didn't even bother to undress, just climbed under the sheets and fell asleep almost instantly.

When she awoke in the middle of the night, she wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, because she had no idea when she'd went to bed. It was still pitch dark, so she glanced at the clock on the side table, which told her it was shortly after two.

She grunted in pain as she used her sore arms to lift herself into a sitting position, then swung her legs over the bed. She would have stayed in bed, but she realized she was both hungry and thirsty, since she'd missed dinner that evening. It wasn't like she'd never missed a meal, she knew she could survive without eating until the morning, but she was extremely thirsty. She couldn't ignore it if she'd wanted to.

She stepped lightly onto the floor trying to keep as quiet as possible, until she was safely in the kitchen. Then she opened the fridge looking for something to drink. She thought about grabbing a beer for a moment, but decided it would be a bad idea. Instead she grabbed a cola and sat down at the kitchen table.

As much as she didn't want to, her mind kept mulling over the information she'd learned only hours before. She wasn't even sure how she felt about everything she'd learned, she was feeling pretty numb. Besides knowing it was partially her fault her sister had been killed—which she felt extremely guilty about— she was unsure what she should do next. She had always promised herself she would stop hunting when she'd killed the werewolf that killed her family. But now that so much time had passed, she wasn't sure she wanted to do anything else, or was even capable of doing something else.

She was half done her cola, when Dean walked into the kitchen, startled.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here," he said quietly. "I just came to get a drink."

"Me too," she said lifting the can in her hand.

He went into the fridge and pulled out a beer. "I'll leave you alone now."

"You don't have to do that, Dean. Why don't you sit with me for a bit?"

He looked at her questioningly. "Uh, ok," he replied, sitting on the chair beside her.

There was an awkward moment of silence, before Dean spoke.

"I didn't think you'd want company."

She gazed at him with surprise. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I just thought that, uh, I don't know, that maybe you would want to be alone."

"I did at first, but maybe now I'm hoping someone would share in my misery."

He said the first thing that popped into his head, which he realized after he'd spoken that it was probably the wrong thing to say. "We tried that once. It didn't work out too well."

She kept a stoic look for a moment, then laughed lightly. "Ain't that the truth."

"Was there something specifically you wanted to talk about?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Well, no, not really," she said uncomfortably. "I just wanted you to know I don't blame your father for what happened to my sister. In case you thought that I did."

"Honestly, I didn't think you did," he said supportively. "I thought you might be blaming yourself."

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I'm not gonna lie to you and say I don't, because I do. But I know it's wrong to feel that way."

"Well, it's not your fault, Jessie. Not in the least."

"Thanks, Dean," she said with the slightest hint of a smile.

He took a few swigs of his beer, before looking at her curiously. "I do have something I wanted to ask you about."

She looked at him curiously, before she realized what it might be about. "Uh, ok," she replied apprehensively.

"What was the Alpha referring to when he mentioned things didn't look sweet an innocent between you and Sam?"

She swallowed hard. "Did you ask Sam about it?"

He smirked. "Actually I did."

"And what did he say?"

He looked at her with a strange smile on his face. "He told me to ask you."

She wasn't sure if she believed him, but either way, she thought it would be better if she was the one who told him.

"I kissed him. Do you have a problem with that?" she asked defensively.

He sat pensively for a few moments, then released a long sigh. "No, I don't. If anything, I think I'm actually happy about it."

"What?" she asked with disbelief. "A few days ago you warned me not to hurt him. Why the turnabout?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "You did."

"How?"

"You're the kind of woman Sam needs in his life. You're smart, level headed, you can put him in his place and...you can cook."

She laughed. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Ok, so the cooking thing is for me," he said and laughed. "But seriously, Jessie. I haven't seen Sam smile so much in a long time. He's been through a lot."

"And what about you?" she asked. "Don't you think you deserve someone as well?"

He laughed again. "Definitely not you, Jessie. No offense, but I think we'd seriously kill each other."

She laughed as well. "I didn't mean me, Dean. I know we're alike in a lot of ways, but I'm pretty sure you're right." She laid her hand on top of his, which was on the table. "You deserve to be happy too. You believe that, don't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling his hand from hers. "Maybe once Sam is happy I can think about it."

"I hope so, Dean. It's a lonely world."

There was silence for a minute while each of them sat pensively, drinking their drinks.

"Do you love him?" Dean blurted out of the blue.

His sudden questioning almost caused her to almost spit her pop out. "What kind of question is that?"

He looked at her regretfully. "Look, I'm sorry about before. But if you're being honest about not coming between us, then I'm fine if you and Sam want to...be together."

"Of course I would never do that, Dean," she said with a smile, before looking serious again. "But if you want me to be honest, I don't think anyone could ever come between the two of you. If demons, angels and whatever else couldn't do it, how could a woman?"

"Maybe you're right," he said, drinking the last of his beer. "Are you staying up for awhile?"

"Why?"

"Why does every question have to breed another question with you?"

She rolled her eyes with frustration. "Fine. Yes, I am."

He stood up from the table, put his empty bottle away and left without another word.

Once she was sure he was gone, she placed a hand to her head and closed her eyes. She wanted to be able to think about Sam, at the moment he seemed like the easiest situation to deal with, but she was unable to. It was difficult for her to be honest with herself, but she was feeling like her whole world had come crashing down around her all at once. She desperately wanted to believe the Alpha had been lying to her about everything, but she knew deep down he wasn't.

She was lost in thought when Sam walked into the kitchen, startling her.

"I'm sorry, Jessie," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No, it's okay, Sam," she replied. "Let me guess, you can't sleep either?"

"Something like that."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Please don't tell me your brother woke you up?"

He turned to walk to the fridge avoiding her question. When he'd grabbed a cola, he walked back to sit beside her at the table.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked with concern. "I know you hit your head against the floor pretty hard last night."

She'd had a dull headache since, but she hadn't told anyone. It felt fine.

"All's good."

He glanced at her with concern. "And your arms?"

"They're fine," she replied dismissively. "What about you, Sam?"

"Why wouldn't I be fine?"

She snorted. "You mean you and Dean were only pretending to be unconcious?"

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

She snorted lightly, mumbling something about men under her breath.

He reached out taking her hand in his. "Is it okay if I'm worried about you?"

"Is this about my physical health or my mental health?"

He chuckled once in disbelief. "Which one let's me keep my fingers?"

She smiled. "Physically, I'm pretty sure I'm fine. Mentally, well that's another story."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked with a supportive smile.

"That all depends on you, Sam. I'm feeling rather needy tonight. Do you think you can handle it?"

He studied her for a few moments, then stood up, pulling her to stand as well. "I know what you need."

She eyed him warily, but allowed him to drag her into the livingroom. He sat down on one side of the couch, then pulled her down beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She nestled her head against him then closed her eyes.

"Is this better?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

She began to discuss her feelings about her sister and her family with him, which she found easier in this position. She didn't have to stare directly into his eyes, it was easier to hide some of her guilt this way. Although she was positive he could pick up on the guilt, whether he could see her eyes or not. He always seemed to be so intuitive.

It had slipped her mind the moment it happened, but as she relived the moments of earlier, she remembered when Sam had looked at her as if he was angry.

"I have a question for you, Sam?" she asked,

"What's that?" he asked with surprise.

"Why were you angry with me earlier? When the Alpha was about to turn me."

"Oh, that," he replied hesitantly. "It was because of your look, Jessie. You were apologizing to me as if it was your fault that I was there. It looked like you'd given up. I guess my look was much harsher than I'd planned."

She lifted her head up, turning to face him. "I was apologizing because I thought you'd have to hunt me down and kill me. I know what that would have done to you."

He lifted his free hand and brushed the side of her face gently with his fingertips. "We don't have to worry about that ever again."

The feel of his fingertips lightly brushing her cheek caused her to close her eyes, her breathing becoming much deeper. He leaned closer, placing his lips gently against hers. He waited until her lips parted, before kissing her gently.

She kissed Sam gently, almost carefully, doing her best not to get lost in the moment. She pulled back after a minute, gazing deep into his eyes.

"You agreed to take things slowly."

He smiled. "Not sure I can kiss any slower."

She returned his smile, then pulled away slightly. She was going to lay her head against his shoulder again, but instead he eased her down so her head was on his lap, lying his hand on her back. She stretched her legs out on the couch and closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep, was Sam running his fingers gently through her hair.

When Jessie began to wake up, her subconcious had somehow remembered exactly where she'd been lying when she'd fallen asleep, so she managed to wake up with her eyes still closed. She kept them closed tightly, listening to hear where everyone was before she would even dare open them.

She could hear mumbled voices coming from the direction of the kitchen. Although she couldn't tell who they belonged to, they had to be Bobby and Dean, because she was still lying in Sam's lap.

Hesitantly, she decided to open her eyes, then very carefully she eased herself off of Sam and into a sitting position. She rubbed at her neck absentmindedly, while she watched Sam to see if he would awaken.

Although it looked slightly painful, she almost laughed out loud at the way Sam was sitting on the couch. It seemed that he'd fallen asleep while propping his head up with one arm, and now his head was flopped to one side, his neck bent at an unusual angle, and his mouth was hanging wide open. She imagined he'd probably drooled all over himself, but she wasn't going to study him that closely.

She stood up slowly, stretching as wide as she could to work all the kinks out of her body, wincing slightly as she overstretched her injured arms.

After she'd fully stretched, she floated quietly upstairs to grab a shower before anyone could stop to speak to her. And when she was done and in clean clothes, she decided to head to the kitchen to face the music.

"Good morning, Bobby," she said the moment she entered the kitchen.

He looked at her with surprise, smiling in a teasing way. "Should I be worried that you're speaking before your first cup of coffee?"

She rolled her eyes mockingly and smiled. "No, not really. I'm just trying out a new strategy."
He stared at her unmovingly. "How's that workin' for ya?"

"Depends," she said and grinned. "Are you sufficiently distracted yet?"

He smiled, shaking his head knowingly. "Just have your coffee already."

She smiled as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. Bobby sat down moments later with a more serious look on his face.

"How're you feeling this morning, Jess?"

The smile she was wearing quickly left her face, replaced with an expectant look. "My arms hurt a little, but they're not too bad."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

She sighed loudly. "Why don't you just come out and ask me what you want to ask?"

He shook his head sadly. "You found out the truth about what happened to your family. Are you going to tell me it isn't bothering you at all?"

She took a sip of her coffee, then set the cup down slowly on the table, trying to keep careful control over herself.

"What do you want me to say, Bobby? That it upset me? That I'm feeling guilty? That it's eating me up inside?" she asked calmly. "Because yeah, I'm feeling all of those things plus much more. But I'm not sure what you expect me to do about it."

"Why don't you talk about it for starters?"

"With who? You?"

"No, the neighbours, Jess," he replied sarcastically. "Of course I mean me."

She drank more of her coffee, trying to think of the kindest way to say what she wanted to. She knew he meant well, but she wasn't used to being tactful or thinking about what she was going to say before she blurted it out.

"I love you, Bobby. And I know you mean well. But I'll be fine." She stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "I managed to survive the deaths of my entire family. I've made it this far. I'll get past this too."

He shook his head in disappointment. "And what have you done in eight years to get past everything, Jessie? You're angry, argumentative, you push people away, you drink too much. That doesn't sound like getting past it to me."

She glanced at him with shock and disbelief. "And who are you to be saying this to me, Bobby? You've been exactly the same way, and for much longer than I have."

"But that's why I want things to turn out differently for you, kid," he replied sorrowfully. "You're still young, beautiful and smart. You could do so much with your life."

"I'm a hunter, Bobby. That's who I am, that's what I am and always will be," she replied, smiling apologetically before going on. "I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but I'm not quitting now."

He stood up from the table, laying a supportive hand on her back. "It doesn't disappoint me, kiddo. I just wish you could have much more than this."

She looked up at him while fighting back tears. "My parents had more, but their lives still ended in tragedy."

"But they had years of familial bliss beforehand, Jess. I want that for you."

"Why can't I have that and hunt?"

He removed his hand, sitting down beside her again.

"Is this about Sam?" he asked in a hushed tone.

She suddenly felt like a teenager again, having to speak to her grandfather about boys. Her cheeks felt red hot. She could only hope they didn't look that way to Bobby.

"It doesn't have to be about him," she replied defensively.

"But you do have feelings for him."

The way he said it, she was unsure if it was a question or a statement.

"Are you gonna gimme a lecture if I do?" she asked, as she crossed her arms.

He raised his hand to his head in frustration for a moment. "I love those boys, Jessie, but—I don't think you want to get involved with either of them."

"Why is that?" she asked with complete sincerity. She really was curious about his insight.

He stood up, reaching his hand out to her.

She stared at him in confusion for a moment, before taking his hand. He helped her stand, then pulled her towards the door, releasing her hand before walking outside. She stopped for a moment to stare at the door, before following him outside.

She followed far behind him as he walked out into the scrapyard, stopping beside skeletons of some old cars stacked upon each other.

"Why are we out here?" she asked when she finally caught up to him.

"We need to have a very serious discussion about Sam and Dean, young lady," he replied, wagging his finger at her.

She rolled her eyes heavily, sighing loudly. "I knew this was coming sooner or later."

"You're not gonna take this seriously, are you?" he asked with frustration.

"And I imagine this is for my own good, right?" she asked defensively, placing her hands on her hips.

"Dammit, Jess! Do you know what these boys have been through? Do you have any idea the crap they've seen and done?"

"I know, Bobby. It's not like I've been living under a rock. But I'm broken too. I may not have went to hell, but I've seen and done things that could break a lesser person. Things that almost broke me." She removed her hands from her hips, then walked over to one of the car skeletons and leaned against it, her hand covering hers eyes.

He walked towards her, laying a supportive hand on her shoulder. "I know it killed you to kill your own grandfather, honey," he said gently. "But you've made it this far."

She removed her hands from her face to reveal tears filling her eyes. "I wish killing grandpa was the worst thing I'd ever done, Bobby. But it wasn't. He was a monster and it needed to be done." She stopped as she gasped for air, choking back tears. "It haunts me to this day, Bobby, but it's what needed to be done. He wouldn't have made me do it if he didn't think I could handle it."

"No, Jess," Bobby said sadly. "He never should have asked you to do what you did. He should have done it himself. Your grandfather was a great man, but that was the most stupid and selfish thing he'd ever done."

She stared at him angrily for a moment, before her look softened. "It doesn't matter, Bobby. What's done is done. He can't take it back and I can't take back the things I've done."

"Is this about your grandmother?" he asked hesitantly.

She glared at him, wiping away tears. "Let me guess, Dean told you."

He shook his head. "What does it matter who told me? The fact is, I know."

"That's not what this is about at all," she replied closing her eyes.

"Your sister?"

She shook her head in response. "You can keep guessing, but what I'm talking about no one knows about—except me."

"Don't you think it's about time to tell someone?"

She slumped against the car, sliding down until she hit the ground then pulled her knees towards herself, wrapping her arms around them.

He squatted beside her, laying his hand on her knee. "It can't be that bad, kid."

She looked at him, took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Dean and Sam are lucky, Bobby. They went to hell but they made it back. When I go, no one will be saving me, because I deserve to be there."

"You didn't make a deal, did you?" he asked with fear.

She laughed insanely. "No, but I wish I had. Then at least I could go to hell without feeling guilty."

He placed both hands on her, shaking her roughly. "What the hell did you do?"

She shook her head and spoke quietly. "You're right, Bobby. I shouldn't be with Sam," she said while standing up. "I don't deserve to be with anyone, ever."

Bobby stood up as she did, looking flabbergasted. "How could you say that? You know that's not true."

"Yes, it is," she replied sounding defeated. "I don't even deserve you, Bobby."

He reached out to her, but before he could grab a hold of her, she ran off towards the house.

"Balls!" he cursed, before walking back towards the house.

Jessie flew into the house and ran up the stairs into her bedroom, throwing herself onto the bed and began to sob quietly. She pulled the blankets over her head–and the rest of herself–hoping to feel comforted and safe, although she felt far from that at the moment.

There were things in her past that she'd never told anyone, things that even she tried to bury deep within herself. One of them had been the secret about her grandmother, which she felt better about once she'd spoken about it. But this other secret, she knew no one could ever find out. She was positive the Winchesters would never speak to her again, but she could live with that. She was more worried what Bobby would think about her. She was positive he would never look at her the same, if he would even speak to her again. She couldn't allow him to find out. He was the only person that kept her sanity safely tethered down. Without him, she was afraid of what might happen to her.

She laid in her bed for a short time after she finished crying, doing her best to push everything deep down inside her again. She couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She needed a distraction.

She glanced around her room, before her disappointment set it. She'd left her laptop downstairs. If she wanted to search for something to hunt, she was going to have to go downstairs. It was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment, but she couldn't stay upstairs forever.

She walked quietly down the stairs, heading straight into the livingroom, avoiding Bobby's eyes as she walked past the kitchen. She noticed Sam and Dean had their dufflebags with them and were talking animatedly as she walked in.

"Good timing," Sam said with a smile when he noticed her walk in the room.

She looked confused. "Huh?"

"We caught wind of a case a few states over," Dean explained. "We're just getting ready to head out now."

She glanced at Sam, who was looking rather uncomfortable.

"Did you want to come with us?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

She managed a fake smile, however it didn't reach her eyes. "No, I don't think so."

"Oh," he replied, sounding dejected. "Maybe next one?"

"I don't know, Sam," she said as she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

He looked like he was about to take a step forward, paused, then changed his mind again and approached her cautiously. When she didn't move away, he reached out and grasped her by the arms.

"We are gonna see each other again, aren't we?"

The expectational look in his eyes tugged at her deeply. "Of course, Sam."

He smiled brightly, making her smile as well.

"We can always skype, ya know," she suggested offhanded.

"Skype? What the hell is that?" Dean asked with a confused look. "Some kind of code for phone sex or something?"

Sam and Jessie began to howl with laughter, especially after Dean looked even more confused.

"I'll explain later, Dean," he replied with a grin.

"Be safe," she said while looking at Sam, then glanced at Dean. "Both of you."

"Always," Dean replied with a wink.

"You too, Jessie," Sam said looking seriously.

"I will. No worries," she replied nonchalantly.

He leaned down quickly, placing his lips on hers, surprising her. She kissed him for only a moment, before pulling away, looking uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sam. I just, wasn't expecting you to do that," she replied, smiling weakly. She wanted to add, "in front of your brother," but she didn't want to call so much attention to it.

"Sam," Dean called. "The sunlight is fading. Let's go."

Sam looked at her awkwardly. "See ya," he said, then followed his brother into the kitchen.

Jessie sighed, feeling foolish and uncomfortable. She grabbed her laptop from the table beside the couch and sat down with it, trying to avoid feeling anything. She'd felt way too many emotions in the past twenty four hours and she needed it to stop. The only way for that to happen was to find something to hunt. The sooner, the better.

While Bobby still seemed to be avoiding her–he wasn't coming out of his study–she got herself a beer and continued to search for something to hunt. After a few beers, and several hours of searching, she found something that looked promising. But since it was near dinner time, she decided to cook some pork chops and oven fries for herself and Bobby.

Bobby wandered into the kitchen only minutes after she'd placed dinner on the table. He sat at his seat and began to eat, without a single word to her. She sat down right after he did, also eating in silence.

Jessie finished eating before Bobby did. She wasn't really that hungry and the awkwardness between the two of them was just too much for her to deal with. So she got up from the table, pulled out a slab of beef from the fridge and began to cut it into bite sized pieces.

Bobby watched her with interest for a short time, before he finally couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"What are you doing?"

She turned around, gazing at him with disbelief. "I'm cutting up meat. What does it look like?"

"You mean you aren't gonna be leaving on a hunt?" he asked shrewdly.

She sighed. "Yes, but I'm making beef stew before I go."

"Why?"

She sighed again, pursing her lips dangerously. "If I don't, who will?"

"That's not an answer, Jess."

"Why do you have to make this so difficult for me, Bobby?"

"Cause I care about you, that's why."

"So this is about earlier, isn't it?"

He sighed in frustration. "I know you don't want to talk to me, but I want you to know you can."

"No, Bobby. Not about this."

He shook his head, looking serious and determined. "Now listen to me, Jessie. I'm gonna say this once and then we'll leave it at that. All I'm asking for you is to listen."

"Fine," she replied.

"There's nothing you could say to me that would make me care any less about you, kid. Sam brought on the damn apocalypse, almost ended the world. Hell, both those boys have done so many foolish things and I still feel exactly the same way about them." He paused for a moment to shake his head. "How could anything you've done be worse than that?"

"I may not have started the apocalypse, but that doesn't mean it's not bad, Bobby."

"Well, maybe one day you'll want to talk about it," he remarked. "If that day comes, I'll be here for you."

She nodded her head, then turned her attention back to making stew.

Bobby sighed, leaving the kitchen without another word.

A/N: Hmm, Dean's had a turnabout but now Bobby seems to be against Sam and Jessie. Either way, Sam's still pushing for more. Do you think her secret is really that bad, or is it all in her own mind? I think we all know Bobby wouldn't turn his back on her, and I'm sure she knows that as well. There must be a reason she can't speak to him about it.

Thanks for reading!