A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic, it is however already written. I don't own any of the supernatural characters, although I wish I did. Thank you to Bartlebead for taking the time to beta this for me, you are much appreciated.

Chapter 5

The kitchen was clean. Dean, in the middle of taking care of Sam and battling his own exhaustion, had cleaned up the mess. He didn't comment and she didn't ask, preferring to save her questions for things she really wanted to know. Instead, she sat at the table and watched as he took a clean pan out of the rack and set on the stove. Methodically he went about the business of cooking breakfast. He looked completely at home in her kitchen, she noticed, as he began to prepare eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. He must have run to the grocery store, she knew they didn't have any bacon or those brown eggs. Dean set a cup of coffee in front her and when she looked up he winked at her.

"So, you like the smurfs huh, it was one of my favorite shows. That Smurfette was kinda hot."

She colored. "Ah yeah, I guess so," she mumbled blinking in confusion. Belatedly she looked down at the shirt she was wearing. A blush heated her cheeks further and she was grateful Dean had already turned away, back to the stove. She'd forgotten during all the drama that her pajama's consisted of her smurf shirt which didn't cover much and a pair of sleep shorts. Maybe they weren't the best thing to be wearing when meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time. Well, it didn't matter now. Besides, breakfast had to be almost ready. It smelled awesome. The sizzling of bacon filled the growing silence between them.

"How old are you," she blurted out."

"I'm 26 this past January."

"What day?"

Dean's capable hands shifted the pans around as he cooked. "January 24th, 1979."

Jessica smiled tentativly. "Mine's the 24th too, only in '83."

"Well, isn't that something?" said Dean. We should celebrate together next year. Do it up real big."

He was still facing away but Jessica noticed his shoulders seemed to tense.

"If we did a party, would you come?" She honestly wanted to know. Dean seemed nice, and he obviously loved Sam, but there was something not right between them. It was preventing them from really being brothers. Dean stared at her and for a moment she figured he would lie to her.

"No."

"But you came now."

"That's different, sweetheart. Sammy needed me, but he doesn't want me." Dean frowned. "I mean he wants this new life and he wants to do it himself. He was always like that. I can do it Dean, let me do it, I wanna do it myself." Dean laughed and Jessica could hear the sadness and love mingling together in his smoky voice.

"That's silly. You don't just stop being family." Jessica leaned over the table, elbows propped up, eyes eager now. She wanted to fix this; she wanted to help give Sam Dean; mostly she wanted to understand.

"Sometimes you do." Dean looked at Jessica, his somber gaze steady and unflinching.

What a terrible thing she thought, to love one another and yet refuse to cross some line in the sand.

As Dean started dishing up the plates, Jessica got up and walked the small distance separating them. How lonely, she thought again. Acting on impulse, she reached up and wrapped her arms around Dean. She hugged him like she'd hug her own brother.

"Thank you," she murmured into the soft fabric of Dean's flannel shirt.

Dean stood still. He didn't push her away but he didn't hug her back either.

Jessica persisted. "Thank you for helping and for loving him, even if he doesn't know it." For a moment, she wondered, if she hadn't gone too far. Then he relaxed and laid his head next to hers. Not long after, he gently stepped away.

"Foods getting cold," he said gruffly.

They ate quickly, and leaving the dishes in the sink for later, they went together to check on Sam. Sammy was sleeping sprawled on his back, one long leg sticking out from underneath the covers, hanging loosely off the edge of the bed. His mouth was open, and he snored rhythmically. He occasionally coughed, but the sound was much dryer than during the night and not as frequent. Jessica and Dean simultaneously checked his forehead, hands overlapping, to find Sam's skin dry and cool. The fever had broken. They both gave a sigh of relief.

"Well," said Dean, looking at his brother. "He should be fine from here, just needs to sleep it off and get plenty of fluids."

When Jessica looked up at him, he had already taken several steps towards the door. "You're leaving," she protested. "Why?"

"Already told ya Jessie. He wakes up and finds out I'm here he'll be pretty pissed. Sam likes his before and after clearly separated. You're after. Me? I'm stuck firmly in the before."

"But I don't understand!" Jessica moved over to where Dean stood and placed a hand on his arm.

"He asked for you. He yelled himself hoarse screaming your name. The minute you came, he instantly relaxed. He obviously needs you! Please, just stay. Whatever happened it can be in the before; not his family… never you."

Dean just looked at her. When he smiled it was different from earlier. This smile was quiet and small, but it reached his eyes. Jessica thought that this smile was maybe the real Dean Winchester. He began to list things she needed to know when caring for Sam when he's sick. Jessica was reminded of when she used to babysit and parents would leave instructions for taking care of their children.

"Make sure he sleeps, but don't let him sleep too long without giving him something to drink. I put Gatorade in the refrigerator; his favorite is the blue kind. Take it out of the fridge and let it sit a minute before giving it to him ,though, 'cause when he's sick he likes it more luke warm not ice cold. Oh, and, for when he's feeling better there's stuff for tomato soup and grilled cheese. It's … ah … what he had whenever we were sick as kids. After the puking part anyway."

"You're sure I can't convince you to stay?"

"Yeah … and don't tell him I was here either." He cut her off stopping her automatic refusal. "It's better that way, Jessie. Just trust me."

Feeling inexplicably like she was losing a small piece of herself, or maybe a piece of Sam, she reluctantly agreed.

"Oh, and when he gets cranky later, but isn't well enough to go out? Star Wars movie marathons always work really well."

"Okay," said Jessica, feeling the burn of tears tickle the back of her throat.

"Well, thanks for having me over." The look on his face said he knew how ridiculous that sounded, as if it had been just a family visit. "Bye Jessie, take care."

"Bye, Dean." It was all she could say.

Jessica watched him go. She listened to the soft tread of his boots until she heard the front door shut firmly with an audible click. She sat down on the bed and watched Sam as he continued to sleep next to her. Would he really be so upset to find out that his brother took care of him and loved him. She'd have to wait and see. She might tell Sam his brother had been here, despite her promise to Dean. She would do whatever seemed right but first she'd have to feel out Sam's reaction before she made any concrete decision.

When Sam woke a few hours later, he was groggy and his mouth felt like he'd been attempting to drink a desert. Jessica popped her head in from the door.

"Sam, you're awake. You must be thirsty baby, let me go and get you something."

Sam rolled over and tried to get his bearings. He had horrible dreams, dreams about fire. They'd left a bad feeling rolling around in his gut and for a moment Sam wished Dean was there to tell him dreams were just dreams and it was all going to be okay. But he stopped himself. It was being sick, he realized, that made Sam wish for Dean- made him wish for the one and only constant in his childhood. Sam knew if he waited long enough the need would bury itself down deep inside of him again.

Sam laughed and shook his head. Mixing Stanford and Dean! It was preposterous.

Stanford didn't have a ghoul-hunting department and Dean had never been one for school, or mixing in polite society for that matter. Besides, Sam suspected uncomfortably, if Sam saw Dean again, without the hurt and anger from his last fight with their father fueling him, he didn't know if he could cut the ties a second time. And as horrible as it sounded, he needed to leave those ties severed. He loved this new life, he loved Jessica; and he knew mixing the two just wasn't a sane idea. For an instant, Sam thought he smelled the telltale whiff of gun oil on the air, he swallowed. Huh…. Weird … smelled kind of like Dean.

Jessica came back in carrying a glass. Gratefully Sam took it and drank deeply. He was pleasantly surprised when the tepid blue sports drink hit his sore throat.

"How did you know this was my favorite?" Sam questioned, paranoid suspicion making his voice tense.

"You asked for it the last time you were awake. Don't you remember?" Jessica smiled at him but her gaze landed on him searchingly and Sam wondered what it was she was looking for. "Is there anything else you want, you haven't eaten in days, surely you're hungry."

Sam closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nostalgia creep up towards his consciousness.

"Yeah, tomato soup, maybe a grilled cheese sandwich. You know, if it's not too much trouble." He opened his eyes and looked at Jessica with the look she could never resist.

"Jessica smiled again and this time Sam could have sworn she looked like she was crying. He wasn't completely well yet, he must be imagining things.

"Just give me a second, I'll be right back."

Jessica walked to the kitchen to pull out the soup Dean had left. Dean really did know his brother. When she'd gone to get the Gatorade earlier, she'd discovered her own cell phone sitting on top of the container. Curiously she'd reached in and pulled it out. There was a new text. Opening it she read , "Check your contacts list. Call me if you need anything, seriously Jessie, anything. After pressing the right buttons Jessica found Dean's number.

Those Winchester boys were a conundrum and Jessica planned on figuring them out someday; when the time was right. For right now, she was going to heat up the tomato soup and cook her baby some grilled cheese. She was going to concentrate on loving Sam; but maybe later she'd send Dean a text updating him on Sam's condition. Dean needed to know he was loved too.

A/N: Almost done, just an epilogue left. Please review! Thanks again for reading.