Chapter 65
Sam walked quietly into the house, holding his breath as he did. He expected someone to be in the kitchen waiting for him, but they weren't. When he realized he had been holding his breath, he released it slowly and quietly. He hoped neither his brother, nor Bobby, knew he had gone outside. They would have questions. Questions he didn't want to answer.
He immediately headed upstairs to check on his wife. She was lying still on the bed just as he'd left her not longer before. He sat down on the bed carefully beside her, taking her hand into his.
"I swear you're both gonna get through this," he whispered. "No matter what I have to do."
He remained sitting on the bed holding his wife's hand until Bobby came into the room about twenty minutes later. He had come to stand behind Sam, but was silent for many minutes.
Eventually, he placed his hand on Sam's shoulder firmly in support. "It's time, Sam."
Sam slowly released his grip on his wife's hand and stood up, turning to face Bobby, his face marked with anguish.
"Do we really have to do this, Bobby?" he asked in a hushed tone, his eyes beginning to water.
Bobby sighed wearily. "Yes, Sam. There's no other way."
Sam turned to gaze at his wife once again, his face still marked in anguish. He didn't want to take her to the panic room. Not even for one second. But he knew he had no other choice, at least for the moment. He released one very long sigh, before lifting his wife into his arms carefully, kissing her lightly on the forehead before heading down into the panic room.
He walked into the panic room hesitantly, for more reasons than one. He had not been there in a long time and it brought nothing but bad memories for him. He knew this was just going to add to it.
He placed his wife gingerly on the cot that was in the middle of the room. It was covered in many blankets and had several pillows as well. He hoped it would be comfortable enough for his very pregnant wife, but he doubted it. Just another reason why he needed this nightmare to end.
He sat on the floor beside his wife for a short time, his knees pulled up to his chest, tears running down his face. But once he was done crying, he stood up and began pacing the room, unsure what to do.
Bobby showed up a few minutes after he'd begun to pace with a sombre look on his face.
"Come on, Sam," he said while motioning to him. "You need to come out of there."
Sam stopped pacing, looking at Bobby as if he didn't comprehend.
Bobby sighed heavily, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam. We need to go."
He swallowed hard before nodding lightly in acquiescence. He followed Bobby out of the room, stopping just outside. He waited until he had locked the door, before turning to face him.
"There has to be another way, Bobby," he said sadly, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Kid, I wish there was another way," he replied quietly. "This is tearing me up inside."
Sam spied three folding chairs in the hallway that hadn't been there before today. He didn't know why, but it made him even more depressed. And angry. He had had his time to cry and now he was angry. As his anger began to escalate, he kicked one of the chairs, sending it flying backwards, landing on its side.
"Sam," Bobby called calmly.
Sam turned to glare at him for a second,before shaking his head and stomping up the stairs. When he got up to the main floor, his brother was standing in his way, looking at him questioningly.
"Outta my way, Dean," he said through gritted teeth.
His brother stood up straight, looking at him with concern. "You need to calm down, Sammy."
"No. I don't think so, Dean," he spat. "The time for being calm is over."
"What do you hope to accomplish by this?" he asked. "Do you think being angry is gonna help Jessie? Is it gonna to help you?"
"Look, I'm not in the mood for this. Get out of my way or I will punch you," he stated.
Dean stood his ground, but said nothing. He had no idea what to say. He knew nothing he said would—or could—calm him down. But he knew the wrong thing would definitely set him off and make things worse. He tried his best to look as concerned as possible in hopes he would get himself under control.
Sam stood there for many moments, his hands clenched into fists, his mind in turmoil. He wanted to lash out at everyone and everything. Even his brother. But as he really looked into his concerned eyes, he realized the last thing he wanted to do was take it out on his own brother.
"I just need to get some fresh air," Sam said once he was able to speak calmly.
Dean nodded, shuffling out of the way so his brother could leave. He thought about following him, to try and talk. But he figured it was best to let him have some alone time.
Sam headed outside, straight to the shed to see if Crowley had left the demon blood like he said he would. And sure enough, there was a small coffee cup sized thermos sitting in there. He unscrewed the lid, sniffing the contents, before tightening the lid once again and shoving it into his jacket pocket.
"What are you doing?" he whispered to himself as he hung his head in shame. He knew this was wrong on so many levels. But he couldn't help himself. After all his pondering, he knew he didn't want to see his wife suffer as he did. He didn't think he was strong enough. He was even willing to risk his relationship with his brother and Bobby to help alleviate her pain.
Once he was back in the house, he headed straight down to the panic room.
When he got there, Dean was sitting in one of the chairs, while Bobby was standing at the door, staring into the room. He walked over to Bobby. Looking over his shoulder he noticed his wife was finally awake.
Bobby turned around to face Sam. "You can go in to see her, but we're gonna be right here watching in case."
He felt a momentary twinge of guilt, although he knew he had meant in case Jessie did something. He pushed it out of his mind quickly, though, hurrying through the door to be with his wife.
She was sitting at the edge of the cot as he walked in. As he approached her, she smiled lightly, but the light didn't really touch her eyes. She was visibly shaking, her hair was flat and she was drenched in sweat.
"I'm sorry, Jess," he blurted out as he sat down beside her.
"Why am I here?" she asked quietly, her voice cracking.
"Do you remember what happened?" he gently prodded, taking her hand into his.
"I, uh, I don't really know what that was," she replied, shaking her head. "But I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize," he said as he pulled her close to him. "You didn't mean to do it. It was the demon blood."
He held her tightly, wishing he could take her pain away. Wishing the shaking would stop. But he knew the worst was to come, if he didn't give her more blood.
After some time, Jessie pulled away from Sam's grip so she could gaze into his eyes.
"Please," she begged. "You need to get me out of here."
"I can't," he replied, gripping her hands tightly. "This is to protect you...and us."
"But, but," she began stammering. "I need more demon blood. Please, Sam."
His thoughts immediately went to the thermos that was inside his jacket. But as he stared into her eyes, he found he couldn't give it to her. He knew what it was like. He knew the pain she was in right now. But he knew Bobby was right. She needed to stop taking it. And he knew very well that if he gave her more, it would probably never stop. And while he was scared for her life and the life of his unborn son, he was also afraid for her soul.
"No," he said quietly and regretfully. "I can't do that."
She narrowed her eyes suddenly, glaring at him angrily. "Can't? Or won't?"
He released the grip on her hands, backing away slightly. "I know you're in pain right now. If anyone does it's me, but this is to help you."
She stood up suddenly, her face twisted in anger. "Help me? You think this is helping me?" she yelled, her voice steadily getting louder. "Not only is this not helping, you're going to kill our son. Is that what you want?"
Sam had stood up the moment she had and was looking at her pleadingly. "Of course I don't want that. Why would you say that? I love you, Jess. And our son."
She snorted derisively. "You have a funny way of showing it."
He approached her slowly, hoping to take her into his arms again, hoping it would calm her down. But the closer he got to her, the more menacing she looked.
"Back off, Sam!" she yelled. "If you're not going to help me then get out and never come back."
Her words felt like a blow to his chest. He knew she was lashing out in fear and pain, but they stung nonetheless. However, he didn't want to leave her. She needed him, whether she thought she did at the moment or not.
"You don't mean that," he stammered.
"Oh, don't I?"
"No. You don't. You're just hurt and angry."
She snorted. "You haven't seen me angry yet."
He wasn't sure if it was because of his experience with demon blood, or it was just because he could feel it. But he knew if he didn't get out of there quickly she was going to try and hurt him, whether intentionally or not.
He began to back away slowly, watching her as he did. Her face was so twisted in agony, pain and rage that he barely recognized her. He felt afraid at that moment, making him rush to the exit quicker. When the door was opened, he sailed through it quickly, immediately slamming the heavy iron door behind him.
She began to scream and wail, flailing her arms, her fists clenched tightly.
Sam backed up to the wall only feet from the door, slid down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, burying his head against himself. The agony of seeing his wife in so much pain and in so much rage was almost too much for him to bear.
Bobby and Dean glanced at each other with unease. Neither of them knew how to comfort Sam. They didn't even know how to comfort themselves. They'd already been through this once, but the last time they solved it through an inordinate amount of alcohol. That wasn't an option this time since they had to worry about Sam, as well as Jessie.
The men were quiet for some time, except for the occasional sob from Sam. Dean began pacing slightly, looking around helplessly. And Bobby pretty much kept watch in the room, making sure Jessie wasn't going to injure herself. This went on for at least ten minutes before Sam finally gained his composure.
"I'm going upstairs for a bit," he said to no one in particular before doing exactly that.
He hadn't known where he was going to go when he had began the trek up the stairs, but he headed to the kitchen. When he walked through the door, he realized he was hungry. With all that had been going on, no one had eaten in quite a while. And since he didn't know what else to do while he felt so lost, he made everyone sandwiches.
When he returned to the room with sandwiches, he noticed his wife was calm once again. She was lying on the cot, facing away from the door, several blankets pulled up around her. He hoped she was actually sleeping. He could tell she was still shaking, even under all of the blankets.
The men were silent as they ate their food, all quietly contemplating their situation. But once they were all done. Bobby decided this was the moment to talk.
"Boys," he said wearily. "There has to be someone here at all times to watch her." He watched as they nodded in agreement. "However," he continued, swallowing hard. "Sam can't be left alone with her."
"What!?" Sam exclaimed, jumping up from the chair he'd been sitting in. "Why?"
He placed a finger up to his mouth in a hushing motion. "Don't wake her," he admonished before explaining. "Sam, I know you love her and you don't want to hurt her, but that's the problem. I don't think you can be trusted not to try and help her any way you can."
He felt defensive at first, but he took a moment to ponder before responding. "You're probably right, Bobby. I can't think rationally about this."
Both Bobby and Dean looked at him in stunned silence for a few moments.
"Dean, you take first shift, I need some sleep," Bobby said wearily before heading up stairs, patting Sam on the back in support as he passed him.
Dean stood up, taking his spot by the door to keep watch, while Sam sat in one of the chairs. They remained this way for hours, never speaking a word to each other. There was an uncomfortable silence, until Bobby appeared once again.
"How's she been?" he asked the boys.
Sam shrugged in response, unable to find words.
"She's been quiet," Dean replied as he stood aside so Bobby could have his spot at the window.
"You should get some rest," he said, glancing into the panic room. "Both of you."
"I'm not leaving," Sam said as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in.
Bobby turned around, sighing heavily. "I can't make you, Sam. But you really should try and rest. She's going to need you."
"Yeah, man," Dean said as he placed a supportive hand on his brother's shoulder. "You need rest."
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, he was interrupted by Jessie yelling at them from the other side of the door.
The three men gathered around the door together. She was now standing in front of the window. She looked very much like she had hours ago. But her shaking seemed to be more pronounced now.
"Nice to see you're back, Bobby," she said with a sneer. "I was hoping we could talk."
He glanced sideways quickly at both of the brothers before turning his attention back towards her.
"What is it, Jess?" he asked apprehensively.
"I wanted to talk to you about lies," she said with a derisive laugh. "You know, like the lies you're angry with me for keeping."
I'm not angry with you," he replied quickly.
"Really?" she said with surprise. "Am I gonna get the, I'm not angry but disappointed in you, speech right now? Is that it?"
He shrugged his shoulders in response. He didn't know what else to say. He knew she was trying to goad him into something. But he didn't want to engage with her. He knew she was going to regret everything that was happening at the moment, and he didn't want to cause her any more grief than she was already going through.
She slammed her fist on the glass, glaring at him. "No. You won't dare do that, will you, Bobby?" She glanced quickly at both of the brothers, before returning her gaze towards Bobby. "How many lies have you told, Bobby? How many lies have you told them? Huh? Maybe they'd like to hear some."
He wasn't quite sure what she was speaking about, but he knew it couldn't be anything good. Yes, he'd lied to the boys many times over the years. Most of the time to protect them. But also to protect others. He wasn't ashamed of it, but he also wasn't proud of it.
"Jess, I know you're angry and upset, but why don't you go and relax," he said as calmly as possible. "I'm sure all of this anger can't be good for the baby."
"Excuse me?!" she began to yell. "You know what's not good for the baby? Being locked up in here." She slammed her fist on the glass once again. "How dare you?!"
"I need to get out of here," Sam said suddenly, turning away from the window.
"Wait, Sam, wait, wait, wait," she said somewhat calmly, placing her hand on the glass. "Please don't leave me."
He turned back around, hoping to see she had calmed down. However, he didn't see that at all.
"You need to hear this, Sam. So does Dean," she said as she removed her hand from the glass. Her face contorting into a sneer once again. "Bobby's been keeping a secret from you. One he's been scared to tell you."
Both of the men glanced at Bobby quickly, before turning their attention back to her once again.
"Do you remember about eight years ago, when your father, John, came to Bobby's house looking for help and Bobby chased him away with a shotgun?"
The brothers looked at each other knowingly, but were silent.
"Oooooh, you do, don't you?" she said with a twisted smile. "Did he ever tell you why? Why he thought very seriously about putting a bullet into your father?" She laughed derisively. "No. He likes his secrets. Although, I guess it's my secret, too. But I guess I'm just a liar. Aren't I, Dean?"
"Jess, please stop," Bobby begged wearily. "I know you don't really want to tell them this. You promised me not to."
She cocked her head to the side slightly in confusion for a moment. "That's not how I remember it at all. No. You convinced me not to say anything because they worshipped their father." She paced back and forth for a few moments, her face once again contorting into a sneer. "They have the right to know that their father was just as much of a monster as the monsters he hunted."
"You take that back!" Dean yelled angrily. "He saved your life!"
Bobby placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "This is the reaction she wants, Dean." he explained. "She's trying to hurt us because she's in pain and she feels like it's our fault."
"Oh, is that it, Bobby?" she asked angrily. "Or is it because you're all angry with me about lying to you for months, yet you all have lies and secrets you keep from each other?"
"What will this accomplish, Jess?" he asked with a shake of his head. "Will it make you feel better?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Actually, yes," she replied with a snort. "But I'll give you a minute to decide if you want them to hear it from you, or from me. I promise I will not mince words."
He glanced away quickly, looking at his feet with a long sigh. He wasn't sure how the Winchesters would feel about the secret she was alluding to, which is why he had never mentioned it before. What had happened was between John, Jessie and himself. It didn't involve them at all and he didn't think they needed to know. And while he knew Jessie was not one to embellish a story, he knew she would tell it in such a way it would probably hurt them much more.
"Fine," he replied after a minute's thought. "I'll tell them."
She leaned in close to the window with a strange smile.
"Good," she replied. "I can't wait for story time."