Chapter 23

Sam picked Jessie's limp body from the floor and carried it to the couch, lying her down gently. He glanced uneasily at his brother, who had just finished pouring salt around the windows and doorway and now had his phone up to his ear. He looked questioningly, before turning his attention back to the couch.

He remembered the demon saying it couldn't hurt her, but that did little to relieve his worry. He had forgotten about her injury in his haste to make sure she was okay, but once he noticed it, he ran to the bathroom, retrieving a towel and wrapped it around her hand.

Dean walked over to the couch, stopping behind Sam, who was now sitting on the floor.

"Bobby's on his way," he said, as he laid a blanket over Jessie.

When Sam didn't say anything, he decided to elaborate. "I thought she would want him here when she woke up."

He looked up at his brother. "Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah, well, I didn't do it for you," he replied, glancing around the room.

He walked to the other side of the room, spying a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a glass, then sat at the table to drink.

When Sam noticed what he was doing, he stood up from the floor and joined him at the table. His brother offered him the bottle of whiskey, but he shook his head in refusal.

The room was silent for a short time while Dean was drinking and Sam was watching him wordlessly. Both brothers were pondering things the demon had told them.

"Do you think what that thing said was true, Dean?"

"What part?"

"All of it," he replied with anguish.

"I don't know, Sam, but I hope not," he replied truthfully. "If Crowley is interested in her—well, who knows."

"That's the part I don't understand, Dean," he replied with confusion. "Why would it tell us what he wanted?"

"Who the hell knows with demons, Sam. But what I do know is, we can't be letting her out of our sight."

He gazed at his brother with wide eyes. "Oh yeah, she's gonna enjoy that. I dare you to tell her."

He was stoic for a moment before laughing loudly. "No, I think that'll be your job, Sammy," he teased. "She's in love with you after all."

"That's not funny, Dean," he retorted quickly.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Seriously dude, she'll listen to you." He stopped to shake his head. "Can we just stop pretending you don't have feelings for her?"

"What?"

"Dammit, Sam! I'm not blind, or stupid and I'm insulted that you'd think otherwise."

"We cannot talk about this, Dean."

"Oh, but I think we'd better, Sam," he replied adamantly. "Crowley is interested in you and Jessie, but wants me out of the way. Sounds like he's hoping the two of you will end up together."

He snorted in disbelief. "How much of that whiskey have you drank?"

"I'm not drunk. I'm just trying to think of this logically.

"Logically?" he replied with a laugh. "That seems miles away from logical, Dean. Why would he care if we end up together?"

"Hell if I know," he replied truthfully. "But if he does, we can be sure that it's not because he wants to see you happily married."

"Well, if you're done speculating, Dean," he said, glancing quickly over his shoulder for a moment. "We need to speak about something else."

"What?"

"What're we gonna do if she wakes up before Bobby gets here?" he asked with worry. "After what that demon told us–if it's true–she's gonna be messed up."

"The really sad part is, I think it is true, Sam," he replied ruefully. "You heard what Bobby said before we left his house. He was fighting with her about a secret. A secret that's been torturing her. That sounds about as bad of a secret as one could have."

"So you think it's true? That she killed her boyfriend?" he asked defensively. "Does she seem like the kind of person that could do that, Dean?"

"We don't know the circumstances. But you and I both know that anyone is capable of something like that."

He shook his head, refusing to believe it could be true.

"Fine, Sam. You can be in denial all you want. I could really care less," he replied bluntly, then poured himself another drink.

He glared at his brother for a moment, then stood up from the table and walked over to the couch. He pondered for a moment what he should do, then sat down on the floor cross-legged, leaning against the couch feeling lost.

Dean watched his brother slumped against the couch unsure what to say to make him feel better. Making people feel better was definitely not one of his strong suits. His solution was to drink until he felt good enough not to care anymore. However, he knew Sam wouldn't do that, and he felt like he had to do something to help him. He just had no idea what.

The next hour passed very slowly–and quietly–for the brothers. Dean continued to drink, though he did slow down his consumption considerably. Sam continued to sit on the floor, but he would get up and pace around every so often, then sit down again. The only sounds that were heard were the sounds of their movements, and the occasional moan from Jessie.

But shortly after the one and a half hour mark, she began to stir.

Jessie bolted upright, eyes wide open. Her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed Dean sitting at the table, making her turn towards the back of the couch, burying her face in it.

She wanted to scream, and cry, but somehow she couldn't do either. She was feeling so many emotions all at once, she wasn't even sure which one she was feeling strongest.

She felt Sam lay a supportive hand on her shoulder, calling her name gently, but she wanted to keep her face buried against the couch. She couldn't face him, she was afraid of what she might see. She knew how she felt about herself, so how could anyone else feel any different?

He called her name gently again, then once more, before tears began to form in her eyes. She fought them back, but the harder she tried, the harder it became. She knew there was only one thing she could do to stop herself from breaking down. She had to face Sam and Dean. She would rather face down her fear and see the loathing she was sure to find in Sam's eyes, then to break down and show her vulnerable side.

She turned her head away from the couch, looking downwards. She grasped the blanket that was lying on her tightly then brought her knees up towards her chest. She began to slowly tilt her head towards Sam, but as she glimpsed him in her peripheral vision, she found she wasn't feeling quite as brave as she'd thought she was.

He called her name again quietly, gently. There was no hint of anger, hatred, or even fear in the way he called her, only sympathy. She wasn't sure what to think. She was afraid that he was only pretending to be sympathetic.

It took her several moments before she was able to turn her head to face Sam. His eyes seemed to be saying the same thing his voice did, that he felt sympathetic towards her.

"How're you feeling?" he probed gently.

"My head is aching and my hand hurts," she replied, lifting her hand up to examine it.

"Do you—what do you remember?" he asked hesitantly.

She was still examining her hand when she glanced at him. "I remember this," she replied, shaking her hand slightly, before laying it down beside her.

"Do you feel like talking about what happened?"

She averted her eyes for a moment to think, then glanced back at him.

"I was possessed. You exorcised the demon. End of discussion," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Jessie..."

"No, Sam. I don't think I need to discuss anything with you."

Dean stood up from the table, walking over to stand behind his brother.

"You get away from me, Dean," she shrieked.

"What did I do?" he asked innocently.

His brother glanced at him quickly, looking angry. "Dean. You're not helping."

She turned away looking guilty, while Dean took a few steps away.

The awkward silence that followed was quickly shattered by a loud knock at the door.

Dean stood up instantly, answering the door. He'd barely opened it, when in flew Bobby looking breathless and concerned.

Sam stood up, allowing Bobby to stand in his place, then dragged a chair from the table next to the couch so he could sit down.

Jessie had been watching much of the commotion unseeing. Thoughts were swimming through her head that she was desperately trying to suppress, to no avail. But once she realized Bobby was sitting in front of her, she knew she'd have to face them, one way or another. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," she wailed, as tears began to escape from her eyes.

"What are you sorry for, kid?" he asked with concern.

"I'm a monster."

He laid a supportive hand on hers, which was lying next to her. "Why don't you explain what happened, Jess? I can't imagine it's as bad as you think it is."

She shook her head very lightly, wiping the stream of tears from her eyes.

"It's true, Bobby. What the demon said. I killed my boyfriend."

All three sets of eyes were focused intently upon her, but none of them were judging her. Each of them had done things they weren't proud of and definitely didn't want to speak about. If anyone could understand, it was them.

"How did it happen?" Bobby asked, once it appeared she wasn't going to volunteer the information.

She wanted to make excuses, tell him it was none of his business, but she had begun to feel like she needed to finally be free of this secret. Either way, they'd already heard about it, they just needed to hear the whole story.

She sighed heavily, before she began to speak. "After I had to kill my grandfather I was a wreck. My boyfriend kept trying to call me from school, but I wouldn't answer my phone." Her voice began to quiver slightly, but she kept speaking. "The third day I'd been at my grandfather's, he showed up out of the blue. He tried to comfort me, but I was lost in my despair. At the time, I barely even realized he was there." She began to visibly shake, fighting to keep her voice from faltering. "Later that night, when I thought he was asleep, I took my pistol outside with me, loaded it and stuck it up to my head, fully intent on killing myself."

The faces of the three men changed slightly, but neither seemed to be judging her. Bobby looked understanding, Dean looked pitiful and Sam looked even more sympathetic.

"As I pulled the hammer of the gun back, my boyfriend came up behind me yelling my name. I knew it was the only chance I had of ending my misery, so I tried to pull the trigger. The problem was, he was already right behind me and he tried to wrestle the gun out of my hands. It went off, shooting him in the neck."

There was silence for a short time while everyone took in what she'd said. And while she did her best to control her sobbing—which by the end of her story was heavy—she was unable to hold any of it back. It was as if a dam of all her pent up emotions had broken loose and there was no way to stop it.

It took several minutes before she was able to control herself again. She opened her reddened eyes slowly, feeling the sting of the light and air making her rub them gently.

She climbed out of the blanket and stood up, before glancing around the room quickly. Bobby and Sam had been speaking softly only feet away from the couch, and Dean was standing near the table with a drink in his hand. They all turned to gaze at her, making her suddenly feel self-concious.

"I'm gonna have a shower," she announced quickly as she grabbed her dufflebag off of the floor by the couch and ran into the bathroom.

Jessie spent the better part of an hour in the shower trying to wash her problems away. She felt like she'd been violated by the nasty creature who'd spent a short time inside her body, and the thought of the water washing away any impurities that might remain made her feel a little better.

She took her time getting redressed and fully dried her hair with her mini hair dryer. She usually preferred to let her hair dry naturally–except in cold weather–but she was doing everything possible to avoid leaving the bathroom, for as long as she could. But when she ran out of things to keep herself occupied, she finally left the bathroom dragging her dufflebag with her.

Her first urge was to grab her bottle of whiskey and drown herself in a warm, comforting state of oblivion, but she knew that wasn't going to help, not this time. She needed to face up to her issues head on, so she could move on from all of it.

It was about time.

The three men were sitting at the table as she came out of the bathroom, each glancing at her inconspicuously from their vantage points. They seemed to be feeling as uncomfortable as she was, making her feel only slightly better.

She threw her dufflebag on the floor by the couch, then walked to the empty spot at the table and sat down between Bobby and Dean.

"I'm starving," she said to no one in particular.

They all glanced at her with surprise.

"Sorry, but that demon made me miss a meal," she said as she fished around in her pocket. "Is anyone else hungry? Besides, Dean?"

Everyone chuckled nervously.

"Look, I'm not broken," she said with irritation. "Let's stop pretending that I am."

She slapped her credit card on the table, sliding it towards Dean. "Why don't you and Sam go get something for all of us?"

The brothers exchanged a curious glance, then looked at Bobby.

"You heard her," Bobby said. "Get going. Both of ya."

Dean looked at Jessie as he picked her card up from the table. "Is there anything you want?"

"I'll leave it up to you," she replied.

With one more glance towards his brother, he stood up from the table and left the motel room, followed quickly by Sam. Leaving Bobby and Jessie alone.

"What did you want to talk about, Jess?" he asked knowingly.

"Now you know my secret, Bobby."

"You're right, kid. And didn't I tell you nothing would change?"

"Maybe not for you, Bobby," she replied with a sigh.

"Look at me, Jessie," he demanded. She lifted her eyes, gazing into his reluctantly. "What happened with your boyfriend was a tragic accident. But that's what it was, an accident."

"It was still my fault, Bobby. If I hadn't tried to kill myself..."

He set his hand on hers in support. "You can't change what happened, anymore than I can change what happened with my wife."

"Bobby..."

"No, Jess. You'll feel guilty for the rest of your life no matter what anyone ever says to you," he said sadly. "But that doesn't mean it was your fault. Just remember that."

She sat quietly pensieve for a short time, then glanced at Bobby with a teasing grin.

"When did you become so wise, old man?"

He laughed and shook his head lightly. "What ever am I going to do with you?"

"Let's hope you never have to find out," she said as she stood up and walked across the room.

She reached into the door under the night stand, pulling out a new bottle of whiskey, carrying it back to the table. She slammed it on the table as she sat down, then opened it, pouring it into two glasses that were already on the table.

"I hope you don't mind the good stuff," she said with a grin.

He picked up the glass she'd poured for him, swallowing it in one gulp. "I guess I could take a break from ol' rot gut."

"Thank you, Bobby," she said with a grateful smile after she'd drank the contents of her glass.

"My pleasure, kid."

She poured another glass for each of them, then looked at him seriously. "We have something more important to talk about."

"I know," he replied. "Since you were the one possessed, I was hoping you'd have more insight into what it had said about Crowley and his plans."

"What it said was true. It doesn't know much more than what it told Sam and Dean."

"Much more?" he said questioningly.

"It was hiding something from me. That's all I know, Bobby."

"Is what Dean thinks true?" he asked. "Does Crowley have some kind of vested interest in you and Sam ending up together?"

Her insides began to squirm as he finished his question. Then she lied straight to his face without a second thought.

"I don't know, Bobby. I only know he wants me and Sam for something."

She hated to lie to Bobby of all people, but she was afraid of what might happen if she told him the truth. Crowley did want them together, that was true. But she didn't even have an inkling why. She didn't think it mattered one way or the other. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, with or without the interference of demons.

"I have one last question for you, Jess."

"Huh?"

"Are you really in love with Sam?" he asked, at the same moment the door to the motel room opened.

A/N: I know it was a short chapter, so I will try and update the next one sooner rather than later.

So, she finally spoke about her deep, dark secret. Do you think she's really past it? And what about Crowley? What do you think he's up to? And what do you think they should do to try and find out what he's up to?

Thanks for reading!