Chapter 62

With a feeling of contentment she hadn't felt in quite a while, Jessie walked into the kitchen where both Bobby and Dean were sitting at the table. She smiled at them slightly before going to the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk. As she turned around she thought she glimpsed something pass between them, but she decided to ignore it. She felt good. She didn't want that to end so quickly. Not when she knew she would be cooped up in Bobby's house for many weeks until she delivered and then who knew how long after that.

She drank her milk fully before rinsing the glass and placing it in the sink, then headed into the house to search for Sam, who she found upstairs in the spare room. He turned around, somewhat startled to see her as she crossed the threshhold.

"Should you be climbing the stairs?" he asked with concern.

"Stairs are fine, Sam," she replied with a shake of her head. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Uh, nothing, really."

She knew he was hiding something, but tried not to react. She knew she'd been difficult to live with lately. She figured he was just trying to keep his distance.

"Thanks for letting me take a walk alone," she said, while walking towards the bedroom window. "It's really nice out today. Feels like Spring is just around the corner."

"Yeah."

She turned around to face him once again. "You do know what that means, right?"

"Um, the birth of our son?"

She giggled lightly. "Yes, that too."

"I don't, uh..."

"Fresh strawberries!" she replied with excitement.

He smiled with a slight shake of his head. "Of course it's strawberries."

She smiled, turning to glance out the window. "What were you really doing up here, Sam? Were you watching me?" she asked, turning to face him.

He gazed at her with apprehension. "What if I were to say yes?"

She closed the gap between them, taking his hand into hers. "I know you've heard it before, but, being cooped up, feeling the way I do, I was stressed out. I took it out on you and I'm sorry."

He couldn't help but accept her apology. He'd been feeling hurt by her attitude and only wanted it to end. He hoped this was the end of it.

"It's okay," he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead.

She wrapped her arms around him, lying her head against his chest, sighing lightly in contentment as he wrapped his arms around her. It had been too long since she'd been held by Sam, she didn't realize how much she had missed it until now. And when he began to nuzzle at her neck and she felt a familiar lump against her leg, she realized it had been a while for him as well.

"Sam," she said with a grin as she pulled away from his embrace. "We can't get carried away."

"I know," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But I can't help it."

She smiled thoughtfully. "Maybe we should go downstairs so we aren't tempted."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he replied, blushing slightly. "Go ahead without me. I need to, uh, well—wait, you know."

She chuckled slightly, although she felt bad about his discomfort. It couldn't be helped, however. She wasn't allowed to have any sexual relations. Although there were things she could do for him, she was afraid it would lead where it wasn't supposed to go. It was safer if she wasn't involved at all.

The rest of the day was quiet. Almost too quiet for Jessie's liking. Bobby's phones were usually ringing off the hook. But today of all days they didn't. It gave her an eerie sort of feeling, although she couldn't understand why. All she could do was push it to the back of her mind and move on with her day. She spent most of the remaining day with the men at the kitchen table, getting up to assist with dinner, or just getting up to take a stroll around the house when her back would start to ache. And after dinner, they headed into the livingroom to watch some TV before it was time for bed.

The next week was much the same as that day, except the phones rang a little more often and Sam tried to keep their moments of closeness in the presence of Dean or Bobby so there would be no temptation. It wasn't as difficult on Jessie, her ever expanding wasitline made her feel too uncomfortable for the most part. But she knew it was difficult on Sam. And for that she felt bad.

The second week of her—incarceration—as she liked to think of it, was much different. She began to take two walks a day. The second one was in the evening with Sam, and its sole purpose was to stay fit. Since all she'd been doing lately was eating, sleeping and sitting down, she needed to keep active. It was also nice to spend that time alone with Sam, although she had to often remind him that they were supposed to be walking.

She also spent more time on her computer during this time, actually looking up cases for Bobby to pass along to other hunters. She didn't mind all that much, but she hated to pass on cases she could've been looking in to. It was also strange that Sam and Dean were not hunting as well. They only left the house to run errands, and neither of them left the house at the same time. She wasn't even sure if it was a security precaution or something else anymore, but she tried not to speculate. Her paranoia had been increasing for a while now. In fact, there were new side effects from drinking a constant–and ever increasing amount—of demon blood popping up all the time. Paranoia was only the most recent one in her memory.

It was midway through the third week when she saw Crowley for the first time since she'd been at Bobby's. He was waiting for her at the shed, where she usually picked up the demon blood, with a strange smirk on his face.

"Hello, dear," he said with his usual snark. "How is your imprisonment going?"

If she hadn't wanted the blood he was holding in his hands so badly, she might have just rolled her eyes. Instead, she glared at him, speaking with venom. "Go to hell, Crowley."

"My, my, aren't we feisty this morning," he replied with mirth. "Is that any way to greet me?"

"Will you just give it to me and get lost," she ordered.

"You mean this?" he said with a sinister grin, holding out the large jug. "Are you sure you really want this?"

She took a couple of deep breaths while glaring at him. He was trying her patience and she wasn't even sure why. Why now? Not knowing was driving her crazy.

"What is your problem, Crowley?" she demanded loudly.

He placed his finger up to his lips in a hushing gesture. "You should learn to be more quiet than that. I mean, unless you want the Winchesters to find out about this meeting."

She began clenching her fists and jaw furiously.

He chuckled before taking on a more serious look again. "The reason I am here is because of exactly this."

"What's this?" she interrupted.

"Your impatience for one," he replied with narrowed eyes. "You're consuming more and more blood every day."
"So?"

He glared at her haughtily. "Besides the blatantly apparent attitude problem? No. Nothing. I can't think of a thing," he replied with heavy sarcasm. "Maybe the fact that I'm bleeding several demons a day for your supply."

"As if you care about the demons, or the bodies of the people they're possessing?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"What about me?" she asked with surprise.

"Do you care where the blood is coming from?"

She was completely taken aback. She hadn't considered where the blood was coming from, at least not in recent memory. She'd been so consumed with the need, it was easy to forget that the blood was coming from innocent victims. The shame she began to feel made it easier for her to deflect away from the question.

"What does it matter to you, Crowley?"

He gazed at her calm, pensively. "It actually matters quite a bit. Not that it seems you would understand why, even if I explained it to you."

His calm, seemingly concern had her curious yet confused. So much so, she was able to speak much more calmly, if nothing more than to assuage her curiosity.

"I'm all ears, Crowley."

He bowed his head ever so slightly in a mock gesture of thanks. "I know that you think I enjoy watching you suffer, that my plan is to get to you in a way to get to Sam. However, nothing could be farther from the truth. I suppose watching you suffer is more like a bonus." She glared at him, causing him to pause for a moment. "Look at it this way. With you giving into the blood, having these little—temper tantrums, does nothing for my cause. All it is doing is making the Winchesters suspicious. And if they're suspicious, they will catch on to what you're doing. It's only a matter of time."

"And that's all you're worried about? Sam and Dean?"

"I think the real problem is you're underestimating them. Which everyone, besides myself, of course, seems to have a bad habit of doing."

"Yeah, you're always two steps ahead of them," she mocked with a chuckle.

"If you don't want my help that's fine," he replied with a glare. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll take it into consideration."

He stared at her stoically for several moments. "I've done my part. Don't forget that."
She was about to ask him what he meant when he snapped his fingers, disappearing instantly. The only thing left was the jug he'd been holding.

She glanced around nervously before picking up the jug and draining it of its contents. Her initial feeling of guilt disappeared once the warm, satisfying feeling of the blood swept through her body. The shame of dealing with Crowley also gone.

She became increasingly paranoid as she began her walk around the property. Every sound she heard made her jump. And when she came upon Dean out in the yard, her initial reaction was suspicion. That maybe he'd been following her. But thankfully the high she was experiencing from the blood kept her from blurting anything out. He didn't say anything to her, but he did watch her until she headed into the house.

Bobby barely glanced up from the kitchen table when she walked in, which once again sent paranoid thoughts running through her mind. She wasn't sure if it was the conversation with Crowley that was doing it, or if he was right about how she'd been reacting to things lately. Either way, she finally realized how it was affecting her. And she needed it to stop. Now.

Jessie was quiet for the rest of the day, mostly sitting with her computer doing research for Bobby. It was the best way to look busy, yet she could still have time with her thoughts. It also kept her from saying or doing something stupid, and everyone from bothering her, which at the moment she wanted more than anything.

While pondering everything Crowley had said to her, her mood had changed drastically, and she remembered his warning. She needed to keep herself in check around everyone from now on, or they might actually become suspicious, if they weren't already. She already knew Dean was. But she knew it would take more than his suspicions to make Bobby and Sam distrust her. She wasn't really worried about him too much. The real problem was she'd noticed Bobby being much more aloof with her lately, and that spelled trouble. And the worst thing about it was that Crowley was the one who made her realize it.

The next day, Jessie tried really hard to avoid going out to that shed. She didn't even know why. Her mind switched between the idea that Crowley might be out there again, which she really didn't want to talk to again, and the fact that the blood was changing her too much and she wanted to stop. But just as she needed to eat, she couldn't fight the need. As hard as she tried, she knew she had to go.

With her mind in turmoil, she walked out to the shed as quietly as she could. She had no idea where anyone was, but she was glad they weren't around. It made it easier for her to not have to watch around her, jumping at every sound. She figured the best way to be normal, was to look normal. She'd realized the day before how she'd been acting the past few weeks, and how suspicious she must have looked. She'd decided to stop that today.

She paused in front of the shed once she reached it, her paranoia suddenly kicking in as strong as ever. She was still for a few moments, fighting with her inner turmoil, trying her best to not look suspicious. But all that was already out the window. Anyone watching would have wondered why she'd stopped in front of the shed, then continue to just stand there in front of it. As hard as she tried, being inconspicuous was way more difficult than Crowley had made it sound.

After giving up on the fight to look normal, she glanced around to make sure no one was around before she opened the door to the shed. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw the familiar jug sitting on a shelf near the door. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation, her recent hesitation striken from memory as if it had never happened. She took the cap off it quickly and began downing the contents.

She was probably half way through drinking when she thought she heard her name being called. She felt a lump rise in her throat, her face losing all its color in fear. She was probably the most terrified she'd ever been in her life. She didn't want to turn around. No. She wasn't going to. She couldn't.

She stood perfectly still for what seemed like an eternity, until she heard her name being called again. This time she knew it wasn't just her paranoia. She knew whose voice it was calling her name. But that didn't change the fact that she was petrified in fear. She didn't think she could turn around. Knowing who it was and what the consequences might be. She just couldn't. Sadly, she realized Crowley's advice had come much too late.

The third time her name was called, she lowered the jug to her side in defeat. She knew there was no explaining. No getting out of it this time. She knew she was screwed.

She turned around slowly until she caught Sam's eye, before averting her gaze quickly, the shame she felt left her unable to look at him. But she had nowhere to look but down, as she caught a glimpse of Bobby and Dean as well. It was over. All she'd done to protect her son was over in a moment. And she knew she was about to pay for it.

Sam looked at her face in horror. Red droplets of blood were present in the corner of her lips, a faint trail dripping down to her chin. His stomach lurched in repulsion, and disappointment. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Bobby's initial look of disgust turned to one of angry concern. When he opened his mouth to speak, Jessie interrupted.

"I can explain," she uttered timidly, and very unconvincingly.

"You mean you'll try," Dean responded, crossing his arms furiously.

She shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "Can we talk in the house?"

Bobby cocked his head, letting the guys know he wanted them to go ahead. Once they were out of earshot, he turned to her and said, "Wipe your face first."

She wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve, placed the jug on the ground, and began the short trek to the house, Bobby close behind her.

It felt like the longest walk she'd ever taken. And the worst had only just begun.

A/N: So very sorry it has taken me so long to update. Even though I've known where this story is leading for the last 40 chapters or so, I still managed to get writer's block. I won't promise to update again soon, but I will try my best. Even if it takes me another year, I swear I will get this story finished.

Thanks again so much for reading!