Chapter 55
Three days later, the Winchesters weren't any closer to catching the monster they were hunting. All their leads had long dried up and there was no new information and no new attacks. And while that relieved all of them. They really wanted to take this monster down, and soon. But with nothing to go on, there was a great deal of frustration amongst them. However, no one was as frustrated as Jessie.
She'd been pretty much cooped up in the motel room for the past three days researching with Sam. While some of that time was alone time while Dean was out having some fun of his own. The majority of the time was not fun. In fact, she began feeling like the walls were closing in on her and all she wanted to do was get outside—alone. But there was no way to do that without arousing Sam's suspicions.
By the fourth day, she just had to get out of that motel room. She waited until Dean had gone out to get lunch, and Sam was in the bathroom before leaving quietly, taking only a small wad of cash and her handgun.
She headed down the street for a few blocks, heading deeper into town. She knew it would be easier to get 'lost' that way, and she knew it wasn't where Dean was heading. When she was sure she was far enough away, she called Crowley.
She was sitting alone in a booth in a small restaurant having coffee when a strange man sat down across from her. She was about to ask who he was when he volunteered the information freely.
"Crowley sent me," he said, his eyes flashing black for a moment.
Her hand instinctually inched towards the salt shaker on the table.
"Why didn't he come himself?" she demanded.
"You shouldn't ask so many damn questions," he replied with a sneer, passing a flask to her across the table.
As she reached for the flask, he grabbed a hold of her with his opposite hand.
"You should really learn to be more careful," he said as he squeezed her hand firmly. "Crowley said I can't hurt you, but he never said I couldn't have some fun with you."
She struggled against his hand for a moment before spilling the salt shaker on him. He yelped in pain, causing him to let go of her hand. She slipped the flask into her pocket as everyone in the room turned to look in their direction for a moment.
"You wanna try that again?" she asked harshly, yet quietly, once everyone had looked away once again.
The demon glared at her, backing down in his seat.
"Tell your boss he better be the one to show up next time," she said dismissively.
He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something. Instead he scurried from the table and the building.
She sighed in relief, relaxing in her seat slightly. She'd been feeling so out of control, she was afraid what she would've done to that demon if he'd pushed her any farther. And in that moment, it didn't even matter there were witnesses. But now that she had a moment to think about it, she was glad he'd just taken off. If she'd attacked him in a room full of people, she would've screwed up her chances at finding the monster they were hunting, and she couldn't let that happen. She was going to have to be more careful.
After paying for her meal, she left the restaurant heading towards the nearest park. Since it was midday, it wasn't very busy. There were a few mothers walking with their children and the odd jogger, otherwise it was quiet.
Waiting until no one was around, she removed the lid of the flask and began to down its contents. She was more afraid that someone would think she was drinking alcohol, than what was really in the flask. As crazy as it seemed, she didn't want anyone to think she was going to be a terrible mother. She was already afraid of that herself.
She stayed on the park bench for a short while watching people go by. She wasn't in a hurry to return to the stuffy, cramped motel room, especially since she knew exactly how Sam and Dean would react when she finally did get back. However, when two elderly ladies came to rest on the bench and wanted to rub her pregnant belly, she made a hasty departure, heading back to the motel.
Her feet were sore by the time she made it back. However, she knew she wouldn't get any sympathy for that. She could've taken a cab around town, but she'd felt like walking in the fresh air, especially since the weather was nice and warm—and no snow.
She noticed Dean's car was sitting in the parking lot, so she assumed both boys were in the room waiting for her to get back. She steeled herself by the doorway for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to prepare for the onslaught she was sure to receive the moment the door opened and she walked through it. And as the doorknob turned and met no resistance, she knew they were waiting for her. They never left the door unlocked.
The moment she walked through the door, both heads turned in her direction. Dean was closest to her, sitting at the kitchen table holding onto his cell phone. He looked angry. Sam was standing by the couch with his phone in his hand as well. He looked relieved at first, but it only took a moment to change to disappointment, and finally anger.
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean beat him to it.
"Where the hell did you go?" he asked furiously.
"Dean!" Sam yelled harshly, glaring at his brother knowingly.
He sighed as he stood up from his chair. Shoving his phone in his pocket, he shot her one more angry—and disappointed—look, before leaving the motel.
Jessie stood there with her head hung low, unable to look Sam in the eyes, even as he approached her. She knew now that she was wrong for taking off without letting them know where she was going, but at the time that didn't really matter to her. She was antsy, bored, frustrated and most of all she needed what was in that flask the demon had given her. She needed demon blood. It wasn't just a way to protect her baby any longer. She needed it too. As much as she tried to tell herself it wasn't affecting her, she knew deep down inside it was and she hated herself for it. But she would do anything to protect her child. No matter what. Even if it meant destroying everything she stood for and everything she was in the process.
"You broke your promise to me," he said with disappointment.
His words hurt her more than she imagined they would have. His anger she could've handled. But his disappointment was something else entirely.
"I'm sorry, Sam," she said with remorse. "I was climbing the walls and I just wanted to have some time to myself."
"Couldn't you have asked me, Jess? Instead of having me worry about you. Wondering where the hell you went. Especially with a baby eating monster on the loose," he replied with exasperation.
"I know, Sam. I'm sorry. It was an impulse."
He sighed with exasperation. "I know you're impulsive, Jess. It's one of the things I love about you. But you promised not to go anywhere without someone."
She hated that she'd disappointed him, and reminding her of the promise she'd made only made her feel worse. Despite all of it, she knew she would do it all over again. It didn't make her feel any better about it at all. She wished there was another way.
"I don't know what else to say, Sam," she said with regret.
"Look at me," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp her hand firmly.
She raised her head slowly, her gaze hesitating slightly before finally meeting his concerned eyes.
"You scare the hell outta me when you do things like this," he said, running his free hand through his hair in frustration. "And Dean..."
She swallowed hard, feeling terrible about how she'd made Sam feel. She just didn't know how to make it better. She knew she'd do just about anything for him. However, her mothering instincts had taken over her life and the baby came first. With all the guilt she was carrying, it was difficult for her to even think straight.
His free hand moved up to her face, holding it gently as he gazed deeply into her eyes.
"I get it, Jess. I really do. But besides your promise, did you forget there's not only a baby eating monster, but demons and hunters looking for you?" he said softly, yet firmly.
She averted her gaze in shame for a moment. She had momentarily forgotten about the hunter—or hunters—after her. All she'd been thinking about was blood—and demons. Somehow she'd managed to forget about the possibility of a hunter after her.
"I won't do it again, Sam. I swear," she promised vehemently.
He was still for a few moments, pondering a response. He'd gone through the whole gambit of emotions while she'd been 'missing'. From fear to anger and everything in between. But as angry as he'd been, he was relieved she was safe and that was all that mattered to him now. He couldn't see a point in staying angry. Instead, he released her hand, grasping her face firmly with both hands and began to kiss her passionately.
She didn't return his kiss at first, completely surprised by his sudden action. But she felt a familiar pull in her loins as he roughly, yet carefully, pushed her against the wall, his hands pulling at her clothes, that made every other thought in her head disappear. She allowed herself to be caught up in the passion, following Sam's lead without hesitation—which eventually lead them to the floor.
There was an awkwardness between them that she'd never felt in the past after making love to him. He seemed to be distant, avoiding her eyes as they picked up their clothes, and she didn't like it. She understood she'd screwed up, but he'd been the one to initiate sex between them. She didn't understand what was wrong. And as much as she wanted to call him on it, she decided not to at the moment. She wanted to enjoy the afterglow of the moment, even if he was being distant. It didn't make the moment any less pleasurable. Besides, she wasn't sure when Dean would be back and she needed to get dressed before he walked in on them while they were still naked. She didn't think that would go over very well at all.
She hid in the bathroom for a short time after getting dressed just so she could think. She was still sitting on the toilet lid when Sam walked in. He glanced at her curiously, closing the door behind him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she replied impassively, continuing to stare at the wall. "Why would you ask?"
He stepped in front of her. "Why wouldn't I ask? You've been in here for a while."
"Oh."
He squatted down so he could face her. "Is it, Dean?"
She gazed into his eyes for a moment, shifting them when she became uncomfortable. "No. It's not, Dean. Him I can handle."
"Is it, me?" he asked with surprise.
She sighed with regret. "Sam. Just leave it alone. Please?"
"Not if I've done something to upset you," he replied as he reached out, placing his hand on her knee.
She jerked her knee away. "Sam. Please go."
He was still for a moment, then suddenly looked horrified. "Oh, my God! I thought I might have, but, I wasn't sure. I'm so sorry."
"What are you going on about?" she asked with confusion, reaching out for his hand.
He allowed her to take his hand gazing at her with confusion. "I thought I, uh, um, I thought I may have—forced you."
"What?" she said with shock, squeezing his hand tightly. "No! You could never do that to me! Why would you think that?"
Relief washed over his face. "Thank God."
An uncomfortable silence followed, although quickly broken by Sam.
"Why did you look at me like you did then?" he asked.
She gazed at him strangely. "You seemed to be distant. It made me upset."
He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "I was ashamed, Jess. I thought I'd forced you into something you didn't want to do."
She smiled thoughtfully, reaching for his face, touching it tenderly. "I don't think there would ever be a time I wouldn't want you." She watched as he smiled before speaking again. "Besides, if you had tried to force me, you'd never be able to have sex again."
He smiled uncomfortably, unsure whether her response was a threat or a promise. Either way, he was happy he'd been wrong.
After a short kiss, the couple left the bathroom hand in hand. Jessie did her best to ignore Dean's scornful and disapproving looks by thinking about the moment she'd just spent with Sam. She knew she'd eventually have to deal with him, but she really didn't want to at the moment. Regardless of what had happened between them, she knew Sam was still upset with her. He'd forgiven her, but she was positive he wasn't going to trust her again so easily. And if he was still upset after everything, she knew Dean would be even more difficult.
Although there was a great deal of awkwardness in the air, the three of them did manage to discuss the case. And that was pretty much all they discussed. It wasn't until Sam went out to grab dinner, leaving his brother and wife alone, that the discussion shifted. And while she would've liked to have argued back with Dean, she took his anger and disappointment without any excuses. She'd been the one in the wrong, and if she wanted them to continue trusting her, she had to at least seem worthy of it. She knew how badly she'd screwed up, she only wished she felt more guilty than she did. However, she knew she'd do anything to keep her baby safe. That she would never regret.
After exhausting every lead they'd had, the three of them turned in early for the night, only to be awoken a few hours later by a phone call on Dean's phone. Sam and Jessie waited patiently while he was speaking to whomever was on the other end of the line, quietly trying to guess who it was. Once Dean ended the call, the two of them waited silently for him to speak.
"That was Bobby," he said, the couple exchanging knowing looks.
"What did he want?" Sam asked, since his brother had taken too long to explain.
He snorted. "Besides calling us a bunch of idjits?" he replied, shaking his head at their questioning looks. "We didn't watch the eleven o'clock news. Apparently there's been another attack."
"What kind of attack?" she asked with a horrified look.
"Bobby said there isn't much information they're releasing to the public," he explained. "But he called the police and they told him that someone had stolen a freshly dead body, drained it of its fluids, then dropped the body off where they found it."
She sighed in relief. "I suppose we should check it out. Hopefully the police will have wrapped up their investigation by now."
"Bobby said they did. They weren't too concerned about the body. They figure someone is trying to sell the fluids or something."
"Wow. Wonder how long it took them to come up with that theory?" she replied sarcastically.
He chuckled. "We better get going. It'll only be dark for so long."
The three of them quickly got ready and were on the road in less than five minutes. It was almost all the way across town, and even at this hour of the morning it still took almost half an hour. And even longer for them to find the exact place they were looking for, since the area was surrounding by warehouses upon warehouses, many of them dilapidated. It was almost a maze.
Dean parked the Impala close by, in case they needed to leave hastily. No one figured there would be any need, but you could never be too careful. For all they knew, the cops could be nearby hoping the criminals would return to the scene of the crime.
Armed with flashlights, the trio fanned out to look for any clue that might aid them in finding the creature they were hunting. They had no idea what they were searching for, which was made more difficult by the fact the police had cleaned up the area.
"Am I the only who thinks we're wasting our time here?" Dean asked no one in particular as he kicked some pebbles in frustration.
Sam sighed. "No. I don't think it's just you."
"Actually—" Jessie began, "I did find something interesting." She waited until the boys walked closer before explaining more. "Look at these drag marks, as if the body had been dragged and dumped here. The one thing I do know is that creature is strong enough, it wouldn't need to drag it's victim here. This looks like the work of a person, not a monster."
"Why would a person drain the body of fluids?" Dean asked with confusion.
"Think about it, Dean," she replied. "There's been a rash of strange deaths and dead bodies for months. What's the best way to murder someone and make it look like someone else did it?"
"Maybe it would help if we could examine the body," Sam added.
She yawned. "When we get back to the motel I'll check on the status of an autopsy."
"It could always wait until the morning," he suggested, a hint of concern in his voice.
"It's okay, Sam, I'm—"
She didn't get a chance to finish that sentence as she was being tackled to the ground by Dean only a split second later. They heard the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the cement as they hit the ground, Dean doing his best to make sure she fell safely on top of him.
"Jessie!"
"I'm fine, Sam," she replied, easing herself off the ground while continuing to stay low.
"Thank God I saw the laser sight on your back," Dean said as he pulled his gun out of his waist before scrambling closer to her.
"Thanks, Dean," she said, pulling her gun from her waist.
"I'm pretty sure it came from that direction," Dean said, pointing to the building on the left.
"What're we waiting for then?" she asked before talking off in the direction of the building.
"Jessie!" the brothers yelled in unison, chasing after her as quickly as they could.
The three of them managed to make it to the building at about the same time. And while the boys seemed winded, Jessie was completely running on adrenaline. Her mind—and heart—was racing too quickly for her to even think about stopping.
"I'll take this door," she said, pointing to the door a few feet away from them. "You two should go around the other way and find another door so whoever it is doesn't get away."
"Jessie—"
"Sam! Dammit!" she yelled. "Can we just find this asshole without arguing?"
He sighed, shooting his brother a pleading look. His brother only shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't about to get in the middle of an argument. Besides, he wanted to catch this person as much as she did. He didn't understand why Sam was being so hesitant.
She took off through the door without another word, not even looking back to see if she'd been followed. Not that she needed to look. Her instincts told her they hadn't.
The warehouse she found herself in was one of the few around that didn't look like it could fall to the ground at any minute. It was virtually dark, except for a few lights shining from high above and the odd emergency light that could be found down the corridor. It didn't even look like a regular warehouse. It looked like it had begun to be converted into something else. Perhaps apartments, or office space. Either way, she found herself heading up a flight of metal stairs that was very near the doorway she'd come in. Stepping on them made more noise than she intended, but catching whoever was responsible was probably a long shot anyway. If they were a hunter—as she suspected—she figured they'd have run the moment they missed their target—especially if they knew what was good for them. There weren't many who didn't know the reputation of the Winchesters. And of those who did, very few would even dare stick around to face their wrath.
Once she reached the top of the stairs, she continued down the corridor, stopping to listen at each doorway she encountered. It was the fifth doorway, which faced the outer walls of the building, where she thought she'd heard something. Holding her gun steady in her hands, she backed up to the wall, side stepping her way to the door. She listened quietly for a moment, turning the knob slowly after she didn't hear anything. And after waiting for a moment to see if anyone was there, she proceeded through the doorway.
The moment she stepped through the threshhold, she felt the air displacement of a fist fly by her head only missing her by an inch. She was able to move away quick enough to avoid a second fist, kicking her leg out, coming into contact with the soft flesh of a stomach. The man emitting a groan as he fell to the floor.
"You'd better stay down!" she yelled as she dove for the light switch, wincing momentarily as the bright lights sent a sharp pain through her eyes. However, she didn't take her eyes off the man, keeping her gun aimed in his direction.
"You're not going to shoot me," he replied with a defiant laugh.
"Try me," she said through gritted teeth. "Move and you'll find out."
The man moved his legs slowly, placing his arms behind him in an attempt to stand, but before he could, she fired a warning shot that nearly hit his leg, causing him to shift away slightly, his bravado quickly turning into fear.
"You've probably got two minutes before Sam and Dean get here. Which means you have less than two minutes to tell me who sent you and a reason why I should let you live," she warned, her gun aimed at his heart.
"I'm a hunter, like you," he said through a shaky voice. "Hunters don't kill each other."
She snorted derisively. "Yet you tried to murder me."
"It's nothing personal."
She snorted in disbelief. "Then why?"
"Brandon sent me. He, uh, told me your baby is an abomination that needs to be killed."
"And I'm what, just an innocent casuality? Collateral damage?"
He laughed in disbelief. "You're hardly innocent."
She gazed at him impassively. "And how would you know? You don't know me."
"You can't be innocent. You're a hunter. There's blood all over your hands."
"You're right," she replied coldly. "So what's a little more?"
"You wouldn't," he said, his face suddenly looking terrified.
"Like I said, you don't know me. You don't know what I'm willing to do to protect my child," she replied, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "A mother protecting her child is one of the most dangerous monsters you'll ever meet."
"No!" he yelled, attempting to scramble away. But he was too slow. She hit him in the chest before he could do little more than scream.
With his body sprawled on the floor unmoving, she approached it cautiously. The gaping hole in his chest wound told her what she needed to know—he was dead. However, she squatted down and grasped his wrist to check for a pulse. There was none.
Now that the immediate danger was over, she stood up, staring down at the body of the man. She was beginning to feel shaky from the adrenaline rush that she was now coming down from. She always hated the feeling, more now than any other time in the past. She'd just killed a man. It wasn't the first time. But it was the first time she'd done it intentionally. It made her feel dirty.
It wasn't more than a few seconds later that Sam and Dean came rushing through the doorway calling her name. She was still staring at the body, unmoving, shaky, wracked with guilt. She didn't even respond to them, her eyes unblinking. It wasn't until Sam stood in front of her, grasping her face lightly, gazing into her eyes with concern that she finally moved, wrapping her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.
"Are you okay?" he asked, speaking quietly.
She pulled away slightly, gazing into his eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay, Sam. He didn't hurt me."
"I can see that," he said tenderly. "But are you okay?"
She smiled lightly and nodded. "I think so."
"Good. Then I think we should get out of here."
She nodded and turned around, walking from the room with the brothers closely behind her. They were exchanging worried looks between themselves that they wouldn't have allowed Jessie to see if she'd been looking. Both of them knew exactly how taking a person's life could affect someone's state of mind. They also knew how she was used to dealing with these problems—alcohol. And since she wasn't able to drink, they were definitely concerned about how she was going to deal with it.
The three of them were completely silent during the ride back to their motel room. Each of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. The boys were unsure how to broach the subject of killing a man with Jessie, while she was only concerned about getting back to the motel. It had been a long night and she just wanted to crawl into the bed, pull the covers over herself and fall into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.
When they arrived at the motel, Jessie hurried into the bathroom. She figured the guys probably assumed it was because she needed to go pee, which she did. But her major motivation was so she could wash up and go to sleep, hopefully without having to discuss what had just happened. She hadn't lied to Sam, she was fine. But that was what really scared her. Something deep inside her told her she should be more upset than she really was.
The boys were sitting on the couch speaking in hushed tones when she came out of the bathroom. She was almost positive they were discussing her, but she didn't want to find out. She swept over to the bed quickly, climbing under the covers and closed her eyes. Unfortunately, it took her some time to find a comfortable position to lay in.
"Jess," Sam called as he sat down on his side of the bed, laying his hand on her side. "Can we talk before you go to sleep?"
She sighed loudly in annoyance, although she'd tried not to. She knew he was only worried about her, but she wasn't really in the mood at the moment.
"Fine," she replied tersely.
"Could you turn around or sit up, please?" he pleaded gently.
She did as she was asked, moving herself into a sitting position. As soon as she did, he took her hand, gazing at her with concern. Doing the best she could, she assured him she was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Regardless of those assurances, he seemed unconvinced. But he allowed her to go to sleep since that was the one thing she could convince him was true, she was tired and she needed her rest.
The next morning she woke up and followed her usual routine with no interruptions. By the time she was finished in the bathroom she was ready for coffee. She glanced around, noticing Dean was at the table without coffee and Sam was missing, so she had to assume he was out getting coffee.
Despite her reluctance to deal with Dean, she sat at the kitchen table with him. That was where her laptop was sitting, and she was in the mood to do some research. After what had happened the night before, she wanted to catch the monster they were hunting quickly so they could get the hell out of town. She knew that eventually someone else would be sent her way. And she didn't want to be here when they were.
As she reached out for her laptop, Dean did the same, getting to it before she did.
"Sam says no research today," he said with a furtive grin, tucking the laptop under his arm.
"What? Why not?" she asked with irritation.
"I dunno. Ask him."
She glared at him angrily. "I'm sure you know exactly why, Dean. So why don't you tell me before I break your fingers for touching my laptop."
He stared her down for a moment, knowing his brother would be disappointed in him if he did what she asked. But he knew what she was like without coffee, and after all that had happened lately he wasn't sure he wanted to test her patience. He was about to give in when his brother walked in the room, a tray of coffees in his hand.
"Looks like I got here just in time," he said, placing the tray down in front of his wife.
She grabbed a coffee without hesitation, shooting Dean an irritated glance.
He smirked in return, passing her laptop to Sam, who immediately took it and placed it on the table by their bed.
"What's going on, Sam?" she asked, trying her best to keep her tone even.
He walked back over to her, kissing her on the top of the head affectionately. "Good morning to you, too," he said with a smile.
"Good morning," she replied with a genuine smile. "Now tell me what's going on."
"I was hoping to spend the day with you. You know, doing something other than working," he replied, sitting down beside her.
She gazed at him suspiciously. "This is about last night, isn't it? I told you I'm fine."
"I know what you said, but I'm not convinced," he replied matter-of-factly.
She wasn't in the mood to argue with him, although she was angry enough. The thought of spending a day with him won out over arguing with him about her state of mind. although she knew that was his alterior motive for spending the day with her. Regardless of the reason, she'd take the chance while she had it.
"Fine. Breakfast. Your treat," she said with a teasing smile.
He smiled, reaching his hand out to her. "Gladly."
She took his hand, allowing him to drag her from the motel room, but not before grabbing her purse and phone. No matter what he wanted, she wasn't going anywhere without her phone—or money.
As they walked down the street, she looked at him questioningly. "We're walking?"
He laughed. "Dean has the day off as well. I don't think he'd appreciate it if we took his car."
"We wouldn't have to walk if I had my car," she mumbled.
"Is walking really bothering you, or is it something else?"
She shook her head. "No."
He was really worried about her, but the more he expressed it, the more she seemed to become upset about it. It's not like he didn't have experience with this sort of thing. His brother had always dealt with his issues in pretty much the same way she did, and he didn't like to talk either. But he'd seen what could happen to her when something was bothering her and she didn't speak about it. He didn't want to see her break down.
He was quiet for the rest of the walk to the little restaurant he'd found while canvassing a few days earlier. They only served breakfast, and their menu was extensive. When he'd seen it he'd immediately thought of her. And today seemed like the day to take her there.
After they'd ordered, he tried his best to get her to open up about the night before. He figured that even if she became angry, she would restrain herself while in a public place. It wasn't his best plan, but he'd hoped for the best. And while he was correct, she didn't do anything to cause a scene. She became angrier the more he prodded. At one point he thought she was going to throw her food, or walk out, but she didn't do either of those things. Surprisingly—and frighteningly—she managed to keep herself together.
After they left the restaurant, Sam had decided to take her shopping. He needed a few things and he knew she did as well. And once again he hoped she would talk, but he didn't really prod this time. He really wanted to enjoy their rare day alone together, but he couldn't let it go completely. He swore he would get her to talk at some point.
Although she knew what Sam was up to, Jessie tried not to let it ruin her day. No matter how many times she told him she was fine, he didn't believe her. And she was fine, until shortly after lunch time when she felt that need again. The need for demon blood. It was also the time she realized she had been feeling something about the events from the night before. She'd been able to hide them from herself. But now she was beginning to lose control of her emotions, and she knew it was only going to get worse.
After lunch, Sam wanted to take her out to an afternoon movie, but she wasn't up for it. Instead, she talked him in to taking her back to their motel room. Her intention was just to get away from other people, just in case she lost control of herself. But Sam had wrongly assumed she'd had something else in mind. When he attempted to make a move on her, she pushed him away. Not because she didn't want to, but because she knew she couldn't. Not while her mind was in such turmoil.
"Jessie, will you please talk to me," he pleaded anxiously, slumping onto the couch.
She sat down on the couch beside Sam, took his hand in hers and gazed into his concerned eyes.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I really am. I don't mean to make you worry like this."
"Then tell me how you're feeling."
She tried her best not to crack a smile, but it was just too incredulous. He was pushing her so hard just to talk about her feelings, which seemed as un-Winchester as you could get. However, her smile only lasted a moment. She knew she needed to talk to him for his sake as well as hers.
"I don't know what you want me to say, Sam. I don't even really know what I'm feeling."
"I think you do know what you're feeling. You just don't want to admit it to yourself."
He was right about one thing, she didn't want to admit what she was feeling. She'd been able to push it all to the back of her mind, but that was becoming all but impossible now. She was afraid to let it go, lose control. Because she knew why. And she knew they wouldn't understand if they found out. She also knew she could only use the hormone reason so many times before
it would just seem like an excuse.
"You have to promise me one thing first," she said.
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "What's that?"
"Swear to me this is the last time we speak about this."
He nodded his head, albeit reluctantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to agree to something so important in advance. But he could tell by the look on her face and the tone of her voice she needed his promise.
She sighed, attempting to keep her eyes fixed on him, although she was having difficulty.
"I lied, Sam. It does bother me that I killed that man," she began to explain, attempting to keep her voice even. "But I did what I had to do."
He waited for her to say more, but she became silent, as if waiting for him to prod. However, he didn't want to. He was afraid to ask for more. Afraid for her to be honest. He didn't like what he was already seeing. He couldn't imagine how much worse it could be. But he had to try. No matter what happened, he knew he had to try.
"It doesn't sound like it's bothering you, Jess," he said, watching the expression on her face change from mild curiosity to something close to anger. "You sound cold. Unfeeling. Detatched. Definitely not yourself."
She released his hand in shock and anger. His words had cut her deeply—because they were true. Although she knew she had to kill the man to protect herself and her child, she felt little more than a slight bit of guilt. That wasn't her. Not really. She knew how she should feel—devastated. But somehow those feelings were out of her reach. She wasn't even sure how to get in touch with them at the moment, or if she really wanted to. And worst of all, she wasn't sure what would happen if she did.
"I don't think I can do this," she said with panic in her voice, attempting to stand up from the couch, but he'd grabbed her by the wrist, not allowing her to.
"Jessie, please sit down," he pleaded gently, although holding on to her wrist firmly.
She was still for a few moments, unsure what she wanted to do. But eventually she sat back on the couch beside him, taking his hands into hers, her eyes fixed on them.
"You do know that whatever you say I won't judge you," he said supportively.
"I'm not really afraid of that, Sam," she said as she raised her eyes to meet his. "I'm afraid of what I'll think about myself."
He gazed at her sadly. "I can't tell you how you should feel about yourself, but you had little choice."
She averted her gaze, returning her eyes to his only a few moments later. "Would you have done the same thing?"
"To protect you and our son? Without hesitation," he replied.
His candor made her feel a tiny bit better about herself, but only a tiny bit. There was still the secret she was keeping. And that wouldn't let her off the hook so easily.
She swallowed hard as she began to allow herself to think about that moment and how she really felt about it. As her hands began to shake, Sam grasped them firmly in support. And as the tears began to fall, he pulled her into an embrace.
"It hurts, Sam. It really hurts," she said between sobs, burying her head deeper into his chest. "Why does it have to hurt so much? Why do these things keep happening to me?"
He felt a twinge of guilt that he had to push out of his mind for her sake. He had to remember this moment was about her. He could deal with his own issues later.
"It'll be okay, Jess," he assured her calmly while stroking her hair lightly.
She sobbed for a long time, eventually falling asleep in Sam's arms. When he was finally sure she was asleep, he was able to remove himself from the couch, fetching a blanket to cover her while she slept.
He wasn't sure what to do with himself while she was sleeping. He didn't want to think about things either. Helping her with her feelings was his way of avoiding his own inner turmoil. But now that she was sleeping, he had time to think. And regardless of what he wanted, he couldn't stop.
He felt guilt, an inordinate amount of it. And as time passed it seemed that there was more and more things for him to feel guilty about. Of course the newest item of guilt was about the hunter Jessie killed. He should've been the one to do it. He should've saved her from ever feeling that pain. He'd experienced it before. He could've done so again. If only he hadn't let her search that warehouse alone. It seemed to him that he'd failed her time and time again. And maybe she'd been right all along. They should've went their separate ways. Everything she'd suffered. Everything she'd been through since they'd met was his fault. And all he wanted to do was make it right again. But he didn't even know how to do that. That was the pain he carried. His guilt.
Jessie awakened on the couch two hours later to a smiling face not far from hers. Sam was sitting on the floor beside the couch, his head lying on the edge of the couch near her belly, which is where his hand was. She returned his smile, knowing it wasn't just for her. The baby was kicking up a storm at the moment.
"Did you have a good sleep?" he asked with a bright smile.
"Yeah," she mumbled groggily. "I guess I was tired."
"I ordered some chinese food, if you're hungry," he said. "It should be here any minute."
"Why did you wait so long to wake me?" she asked with curiosity.
He smiled happily. "I was going to. But then I laid my hand on your tummy and the baby was moving around. I forgot about everything else."
She hadn't forgotten about their talk before she fell asleep. But at the moment it seemed so unimportant. It was nice to see Sam smile as happily as he was now, since he hadn't had much of a reason to lately. And she didn't want to ruin it at the moment. But she couldn't let one thing go.
"Did you seriously say 'tummy'?" she asked with a teasing giggle.
He grinned unapologetically. "Sure did. I think I should get used to using words like that. Don't you?"
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I suppose so."
He smiled widely as he stood up, reaching out his hand to help her into a sitting position, just in time for a knock at the door. He ran quickly to answer it, returning with two large paper bags full of food, which he placed on the kitchen table.
"There's enough food to feed us and Dean and probably a few more people," she remarked as she headed to the fridge to grab a cold drink.
"You are eating for two," he teased as he removed the containers of food from the bags and placed them on the table.
She placed a soda down at her spot at the table and a beer down in Sam's before slapping him playfully on his arm.
"You still eat more than I do," she said with a grin. "What's your excuse?"
He laughed. "I'm a big guy. It's like I'm eating for two."
She laughed boisterously before filling her plate with food.
She felt much better now that she'd napped, and eating seemed to have helped as well. She was happy to be enjoying her remaining alone time with Sam, determined to throw everything else out of her mind for the meantime. She wasn't sure how much longer she was going to have him to herself, but she didn't want to ruin it.
A short time later, the couple were sitting on the couch together watching a movie when Jessie's phone began to ring. She ignored it the first and second time, but at Sam's urging she answered it on the third call. It was Bobby.
She tried her best to remain calm, but Bobby seemed determined to push her buttons. He'd heard about the shooting and he was concerned, he wanted to talk about it. But it was the last thing she wanted to discuss, now or at all. Not just because she didn't want to discuss it, but she was already feeling shaky, she needed demon blood. So the more he pushed her, the angrier she became, until she finally lost her cool, throwing her phone at the wall across the room where it shattered into a few pieces.
It took a moment before she realized what she'd done. By then, Sam was staring at her in utter shock. She knew why she'd lost her temper, but she wasn't sure what to tell him.
She was about to apologize when Sam's phone began to ring. She knew who it would be and so did Sam. So instead of trying to convince him not to answer it, she walked across the room to retrieve pieces of her phone, looking for the internal and external memory cards. The rest of it would be useless now.
"I'm sorry, Sam," she said to him after he'd hung up his phone. "I don't know where the hell that came from."
He sighed. "Bobby's upset, Jess. And honestly, I'm a little freaked out. I've never seen you this angry before."
She frowned as she noticed the disappointment in his voice. "I'll call Bobby in the morning and apologize."
"And that's it? You're done discussing this?"
She closed her eyes and emitted a loud sigh, trying to calm herself. When she opened her eyes he was gazing at her with impatience. "We can talk about this, but not right now. I need to go for a walk."
"Alone?"
She rolled her eyes. "Dammit, Sam. I can look after myself." She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. "Just give me fifteen minutes, please? I swear to God, or whatever, that I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
He was angry, upset and perhaps a little frightened, but he nodded his head in agreement, although he knew he shouldn't allow her to go out alone. Where one hunter had been, another was sure to follow. But he had to hope she could look after herself. He couldn't always be with her, and at the moment she needed a few minutes alone. He had to trust she'd be fine.
She retrieved her gun from the table, tucking it into her waistband before rushing out of the motel room. As soon as she was sure she was far enough away she began yelling Crowley's name with impatience.
A/N: Sorry, i know I always promise to update more often, but I've had a hell of a time with writer's block lately. Some days I can write and write and others I'm lucky if I can complete a sentence before frustration sets in. But hopefully the wait was worth it. I've already begun writing the next chapter so I'm hoping it won't take as long to finish it as this one did.
Thanks for reading!