The little girl sat in her twin size bed covered with a Disney Princess comforter, holding onto a yellow toy duck by the name of Quakers, clutched tightly against her chest. Her thumb was in her mouth, her dark mass of curls tumbled down her back. Her nose and cheeks were splashed with freckles, her jade green eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes. Those pair of eyes were open wide, looking at the corner in her room next to the dresser.
Standing next to the dresser, was a man in a tan trench coat. He had a smile on his face and put a finger to his lips, to shush her. The little girl clutched the duck tighter to her body, sinking down in the comforter, the sheets covering her face, only her eyes peeked out. She wanted to cry out for her Grandma, but didn't want to bother her with silly old nightmares. She knew this man was not a threat. For as long as she could remember, he would come to her room and just stand in the corner. Watching her. He had told her one night that he was an The little girl thought that was foolish, he didn't have any wings or a halo. He looked like an ordinary man.
He smiled at her as he put a finger to his sound of footsteps on the wooden floor outside her door, made the little girl turn her head. She saw the shadow fall under the door, blocking the light from the hallway. She heard the squeak of the door as it opened and she almost let out a scream. But it was just her grandmother and she quickly shut her eyes, feigning to be asleep. She could smell the hint of peppermint as her grandmother leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
The little girl was sad. She could see the sickness overcoming her grandmother, a black cloud that swirled around her body, leaving behind a stench of something she couldn't pin point.
When the door shut, she opened her eyes to see that the man in the corner was gone. She slid down deeper into her covers and held onto her duck. She kept her eyes on the corner, hoping he would come back, but sleep over took her.
/**/
He slowly opened his eyes to see the rosey hue of dawn shining through the half-open curtains. It took him a minute to realize where he was, and why he was so uncomfortable. His legs were straight out in front of him, his boots on the edge of the bed, his right ankle crossed over his left one, and His arms were crossed over his chest, his hands tucked underneath each arm.
Then he saw her sleeping form.
Dean let out a huff as he moved his legs off the bed, feeling the tightness between his shoulers. He leaned foward, placing his boots on the floor, as he rolled his shoulders back and forth, then rolled his neck around in a circle, feeling the stifnes of the last hunt,only proving the point that Dean was getting older.
I'm too old for this shit.
The door squeeked open, making Dean freeze, his hand instnatly reaching for the gun he had placed on the nightstand. He let out a breath as he noticed Sam's head peak around the door. "Hey, Cas called. He needs to see us." Sam took a breath as he watched Dean looking over Jaxson. If they weren't on a hunt, he was found up here in the upstairs guest bedroom, sitting right next to her, a bottle of scotch on the end table, and an always full glass in his hand. "I'll..uh..get the car packed.
Dean nodded as he rubbed the sleep from his tired face. "Yeah, be right there."
He placed his elbows on his thighs, his eyes cast tot he floor, as he heard the door shut with a soft click. He raised his head up when she made a soft sigh, her forehead scrunched, her lips moving without a sound.
It's not your fault, Dean what happened to her. You thought you were doing the right thing by not telling her the truth.
No matter how many times Ellen or Bobby told him this, Dean failed to hear any of it. Had he had told her who he really was, instead of running, she would have been better prepared for this.
/**/
With a soft, low moan from her lips, Jaxson slowly opened her eyes, seeing she was still in the bedroom that had all the strange symbols painted on the walls. Her tongue felt fat and heavy in her mouth as she swept it along her dry, cracked lips. Her head was pounding in time with her heart, and she slowly sat up from the bed.
She swallowed the dry lump in her throat, but getting no relief. She turned her head to the nightstand to see the glass of water, liquid condensationg on the glass, collecting on the wood.
She raised the glass to her lips, letting the cool liquid splash past her lips and down to her empty stomach. She greedily sucked on the liquid, instantly regretting her desicion.
With a cry from her lips, she bent over and heaved, the liquid splashing back onto the floor. Jaxson fell to her knees, the pain radiating throughout her body. She rolled over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling that had the huge symbol drawn in red. And she really hoped that was red paint and not blood.
How in the hell did this happen to her?
She finally had a job she loved, a great house, and a fiance, who she really did care for(but she wasn't sure if marrying him had been the right idea or not).
Now, she was lying broken on the floor, her body bruised and battered, and a man who she had once loved back in her life.
She moved her left hand to the floor, slowly getting up , and looked over at the wicker chair. Once again was a folded up change of clothes, but this time, an extra surprise. A black cosmetic bag.
Inside the bag was some basic makeup items, a brush, some deodarent, travel sized bottles of shampoo, conditioner and lotion. Who ever put this together, put a lot of thought into it.
For the first time in days (weeks? months?) Jaxson opened the bedroom door, pausing as the door creaked open, and slowly peeked down a dark hallway. Cradling the clothes and the bag to her chest, she slowly walked out into the hallway, the wood cool beneath her bare feet.
She selected the door that was right across her room, hoping it was the bathroom. As she stepped inside, she realized, she had been right. She clicke the door shut behind her, setting the clothes and the bag on the closed seat of the toliet.
Through a single window placed above the shower, moon light shone on the tiles, letting Jaxson see where the light switch was located. With a click, the flouresent lighting came on, making her squint.
She limped over to the mirrored medicine cabinet that was located right above the sink, gasping at her reflection. Her left hand shook as she raised it to her face.
Her right eye was no longer swollen, but it was covered in black, brown, yellow and green bruises. Her cheek had a cut that ran down to her top lip, her jaw, throat and collar bone was the same nasty shade as her cheek.
Jaxson's bottom lip began to tremble as she looked at her self, instantly reminding her of what she had endured. She moved away from the mirror, no longer wanting to see herself, and move to take off her sling.
She moved her hair to the side as she slid the straps through the loops, freeing her right arm. She let out a groan as she tried to move the stiff arm. She turned her head to look in the mirror, seeing the bruising along her back. It was one huge brown bruise with yellow highlighting the ends.
With a groan from the pipes, Jaxson turne on the hot water, sitting on the edge of the tub, her hand under the flow waiting for it to heat up. When the water was the correct temperature, Jaxson slowly took off the tee shirt she was wearing.
Standing under the warm spray, Jaxson turned her body, letting it beat down on her shoulder. The warm water slowly released the tension in her body, renewing her energy.
Not wanting to waste all the water, she quickly washed her hair and body, wishing she could stay just a little bit longer under that warmth.
When she dressed, she stepped out into the hallway, noticing a set of stairs. She wasn't sure if she should go down stairs, or go back to her room.
The tempting armoa of coffee and bacon made that desicon for her.
The stairs creaked under her weight as she slowly walked down them, ending in a living room. Every surface in that room was crammed with books, and a shabby couch sat in the middle of the room, along with a televion.
She heard noises coming down the hallway off the living room, so she followed it to find herself in the threshold of a kitchen. And she froze.
He was sitting at a table, a gun in his hand, the clip sitting on the table next to him. A mug of coffee was near reach, and an older woman was at a stove, a plate of pancakes to her right.
.
The woman turned from the stove, the spatula in her hand as she watched Dean cleaning the gun. "Dean! I've told you not at the table!"
Dean was about to answer her, when he looked up to see Jaxson standing in the doorway, her eyes wide. "Jaxson." He slid back the chair, stopping when she took several steps out of the kitchen. "Hey, woah," Dean put the gun on the table, slowly raising his hands. "It's okay."
Ellen turned from the stove to see the scared young woman, her small body visbly shaking. "Hey, Jaxson!" She smiled as she sat the spatula on the counter, slowly walking towards the woman. "It's okay. Remember? I'm Ellen." She placed a hand to her chest, then pointed to Dean. "That's Dean."
Jaxson flicked her eyes to Dean who was still standing near the table, his hands raised in the air. Then she looked at the older woman. "W..where am I?" Her voice cracked. She swallowed thickly.
"You're somewhere safe." Dean slowly moved his hands down, taking a step around the table.
"I'll leave you two to talk." Ellen walked past Jaxson, giving her a smile.
Jaxson turned to see that Dean walked over to the coffee pot, selecting a mug from the cabinet above it. He turned his head to look at her as she slowly walk inside the room.
"You like cream and sugar right?"
Jaxson slid back a chair, moving slowly to sit. "Y..yes."
Dean chuckled as he poured the cream into the mug. "I would always harrass you about the way you take your coffee." He turned to see that Jaxson was looking down at the table. "Personally, I like mine spiked." He sat the mug in front of her, sliding his hands to the back pocket of his jeans. He shook the silver flask. "Want some?"
"No..no." Jaxson stammered as she watched Dean take his place across from hers.
"I know you got questions." Dean twisted off the top of the flask, pouring the liquid into the coffee. "So. Fire away."
Jaxson looked down at the coffee, feeling her stomach churning. There was one question she had since the hospital.
"W..why me?" She slid her eyes upward to see Dean looking at her.
"We don't know. Sam and I are trying to find that out." Dean sat the flask in the middle of the table, knowing it was going to be needed. In just a few seconds, he was about to shatter her world.
"Those men," Jaxson looked at the silver flask, noticing the etchings carved into it. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. That was a flask she had gotten Dean for his birthday. "W..what were they?"
"Demons."
Jaxson snappe her head up, scrunching her forhead. "D...demons. Like..demon demons."
"Yeah." Dean folded his arms across his chest as he watched her face as she tried to comprehend what he was telling her.
"You're not really FBI, are you?" She slid her eyes over to where the gun was lying on the table.
"No. Sam and I, we hunt, uh demons and monsters."
Jaxson let out a laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Perfect. I get kidnapped by these crazy people. Let me guess, you're gonna tell me that the end of the world is coming?"
"Yes."
Jaxson let out a breath as she slowly shook her head, looking at the mug of coffee. "So, what if this is real? Did you do this when I knew you? When..?" She paused as she noticed him shift in his chair. "Th..that's why you left?"
"Jaxson..it's..it's complicated."
Jaxson sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me it's complicated Dean Winchester! Don't you think I heard enough of that? You left Dean. You left. And..and by some God's grace you're back and dammit!" Jaxson slammed her left hand on the table. She had enough. She had enough of this shit, and enough of the damn Winchesters. She was beginning to believe that when they showed up, trouble follwed. "I deserve to know what the hell is going on!" Jaxson let out a cry as she sat back in the chair, her chest heaving up and down, and tears in her eyes. "Just stop Dean. For once, in your life. Tell me the truth."
Dean let out a huff as he ran his hand through his short hair. "Ok fine." Dean spread his hand along the table. "Here it is. When I was four years old, my mom was killed by a demon. My dad wanted to seek revenge, so he began to hunt. Not just demons. Windegos, Shape shifter, Vampires. We grew up in the lifestyle. When I came to Pine Grove, my dad had just been killed by a demon. That part I told you was true. I just didn't tell you what I really did."
"So you lied to me." Jaxson felt her bottom lip begin to tremble.
"I didn't lie to you Jaxs. I had to hide what I did. Because, if you knew, then bad people would want to use that against me."
"Yeah, fine plan that was." Jaxson snorted. She lifted up her right arm. "So, why now Dean? Hmm? I'm sure I wasn't the only woman you went to bed with. The only one you whisphered promises to."
"Dammit Jaxson!" Dean slammed his hand down on the table, making her jump. His coffee cup rattled against the surface as he slid back the chair. "Don't you do this. Don't you bring that up."
"I forgot you do that" Jaxson stood up from the table, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.
"Do what?" Dean fired back.
"When it comes to anything getting emotional, when you feel all vulernable, you freak out."
"I don't freak out."
"What the hell do you call this?" Jaxson fired back. "The moment I mention us, you want to run. Just like you did. When you felt one inkling of emotion, you freaked and you ran."
"You know what Jaxson? There's a lot more shit going on out there than what happened to us, Okay? I'm too busy to talk about why I left."
"Screw you Dean." Jaxson spat.
Dean let out a growl as he grabbed the gun off the table, storming out of the kitchen. Jaxson let out a breath as she slowly sat back down in the chair.
"He's all bark."
Jaxson turned her head to see Ellen walk back into the kitchen, andt o the stove. "I'm sorry." Jaxson hung her head.
"Oh don't worry sweetheart." Ellen winked at her as sat a plate of pancakes in front of her. "Most of us start the day yelling at Dean."
Jaxson picked up her fork, pausing an inch from the syrupy covered pancakes. "That's not Dean. I..I mean not the Dean I used to know. What happened to him?"
Ellen sighed as she sat down at the table, moving Dean's cup to the middle of the table. "A lot of people close to him died."
Jaxson sat the fork on the table, her fingers slowly moving up and down the silver. "So, what he told me? About demons, and vampiers..it's all true?"
"Even angels." Ellen winked. "And they're pretty hunky." Ellen chuckled as she saw the small traces of a smile on the young womans face. With a scrap of the chair legs on the lineouluem, Ellen moved back from the table. "Dean's hear to help Jaxson. I know it may seem like he snowed you, but he did it for the best of intentions." She walked over to where Jaxson was sitting, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "More than likley he's out there beating on his car. He tends to do that when he's upset. Talk to him. Open up to him."
Jaxson watched as Ellen walked out of the room, then looked over at the fridge. She opened the door, seeing the twelve pack of beer, and selected two bottles.
It was awkward carrying the two bottles in her left hand, but she manged. As she stepped out onto the porch, she was shocked to see rows upon rows of cars, all in every state of disrepair, stretched out before her. She had no clue where Dean might have gone, but being cooped up in that room, she was eager to explore, so with a slight limp in her right leg, she walked down the steps, choosing the first row that was to her right.
The sun was warm on her skin, and as she completed the third row, she stopped and raised her head upwards, closing her eyes. The strong sun seemed to energize her, and she felt her strength renewing.
When she was about to start her fourth row of cars, she heard a clank to the right, then a hoarse Sonofabitch!
Jaxson followed the maze of cars until it opened up into a clearing, where a metal building stood. Parked underneath the carport, was the black car, with Dean leaning over the engine compartment.
/**/
Dean found something to do while he hid outside, not wanting to deal with Jaxson right now. He had to concentrate on trying to keep the world from ending, but constant thoughts of her was distracting him.
So, here he was, underneath the hood of his Baby, trying to find something to do, something to get his mind off of her.
His head snapped up when he heard the crunch of gravel, and as he spun around, his hand slid around his back, where his gun sat tucked underneath the waist band of his jeans, his plaid tee shirt concealing it.
Jaxson let out a gasp as she stared down the barrel of the gun, her eyes wide with fear. As she raised her hands in the air, she droppe the bottle onto the ground, the amber fragements shattering against the concrete.
"Dammit Jaxson!" Dean growled as he cocked his gun back into the saftey position, then tucked it back into its hiding place. "Don't ever sneak on someone like that."
"I wasn't sneaking!" Jaxson fired back. "And what the hell Dean? Where you going to shoot me?"
"I'm sorry, it was a reflex." Dean frowned as he looked down at the beer seeping into the concrete. "Damn." He looked up to see her looking at the dark stain, seeing her body shaking. "Jaxson?" He slowly walked over to her, placing a handon her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"
Jaxson stared at the dark stain, remembering back to that awful night. She looked up at Dean.
"I'm ready Dean. I'm ready to talk about what happened..that night."