Disclaimer..duh, duh, duhh! Yeah, so, I know what I want to happen next in 'Right Here,' but I'm having a hard time making it happen. So in the meantime, a sparatic update of this! Woot!

"Go on!" Jenna yelled. She looked breakable, but the girl could pack a punch. Theoretically speaking, of course. Dean's chest throbbed ever so slightly from where she was pushing him out the door.

"Jenna!" he yelled back," Get a hold of yourself! You're overreacting!"

"Overreacting?" she questioned quietly. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Well, I-"

She gave him one more push that set his back against the wall, "This is not overreacting, Winchester." She slid a leg between his and leaned close enough to his ear that he could feel her lips, "Overreacting would be me pushing you out the damn window." Jenna stepped back and walked over to the bar that ran around the studio.

It was a Sunday, and all the students at the boarding school were in church, so Jenna had to space to herself. He had come over in hopes of a quiet ear and atmosphere after the fight he had just been the center of. It wasn't his fault Sam thought he was spending too much time with a girl when there was a case to be solved. Possession was no light matter, and he was taking it seriously, but there was only so much serious to be taken before Dean cracked. Unfortunately, the one outlet in the forsaken town was wound tighter than a binding spell.

"You can't just strut your pretty boy ass in here and expect me to listen patiently while you bitch and moan," she said in a more measured voice all the while pointing her toes and stretching her body in a way that Dean was pretty sure a body wasn't supposed to stretch.

"Why's that," he asked, still up for a fight.

"I'm not made that way. I can't put up with it."

"Can't? Or won't?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked when she looked his way. "Can't." She said definitely. "I cannot handle it."

"Why?"

She sighed. Putting both feet flat on the floor, she leaned against the mirrored wall. "I'm not like other girls, Dean."

The smirk sobered. "Of course not."

"No," she shook her head, "I'm really not like other girls."

"You're going to have to explain."

Jenna bit her bottom lip and traced a pattern in the hardwood with her foot. "I don't."

Dean stared at her. She looked so elegant with her leg stretched out on the bar and her arms over her head. But elegance didn't make up for the fact that he was slowly becoming more pissed with her than with his brother. "You don't? Jenna, I come in here hoping to get some peace from my family, and all you can do is complain because I'm in a bad mood. And then, when I tell you to just forget it, you turn into some crazy bitch with cryptic comments. Hell if you don't have to explain."

"It's my life, Dean." She dropped her leg to the floor and faced him with her hands on her hips. "It's my life."

"I don't give a fuck if it's the pope's life! I just want to know why you gave me a big smile when I walked in and then turned into a flesh eating witch!"

"Because I knew you were upset, okay! I knew you were upset and it rubbed off!" She looked down at the floor, "And I knew you wanted to vent, and I knew you would only get more worked up about it, and I can't handle it, Dean! I can't feel like that today!" A second later her eyes grew wide and she snapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, shit," she breathed.

"Wait," Dean tried to surface the thought swimming in the back of his mind, "You can't feel like that?"

"I…Look, just forget it."

"No. Why would you feel like that? I feel like that, but you wouldn't…unless you were really…but…."

"Really what?" Jenna crossed her arms. "Say it. Come on."

"Empathetic." And it all clicked for him. "You are, aren't you? An empath. That explains why your parents died when you were little. The demon-" It was his turn to bite his tongue, "Oh, shit."

"Demon?" Jenna questioned, "What are you talking about." She peered at him. "And an empath? What the hell, Dean?"

Dean sighed. It was now or never. "Look, Jenna, I haven't been very, um, upfront either."

Jenna raised an eyebrow. "I'm getting that vibe."

"Let me explain before you say anything, alright?"

She nodded.

"When I was four, Sam was six months, a demon, yeah, a real one, tried to take him. The demon started a fire in his nursery that killed my mom. My dad's been hunting the thing ever since." He cringed when she didn't say anything, but continued, "I started helping as soon as he would let me, Sam did too. We've run across some pretty fucked up things, but other not so fucked up ones."

"And I'm in the category of the not so fucked up?" Jenna asked with a small grin stretching the corners of her lips.

"No I…wait," Dean frowned, "You believe me?"

Jenna dropped cross-legged to the floor. "I don't know. I don't want to. But, I guess if there's people like me out there then there must be other things."

"So I'm right. You are an empath." He sat beside her.

"So they tell me." Jenna stared quietly at the floor. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Dean, but I've had so much swirling around me lately, I don't want to feel anything from anyone else today. I just want to feel like me."

He nodded. "I get it."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't until Jenna stood up and held out a hand to Dean that they spoke again. "Dance with me?"

"I don't dance, sweetheart," he replied. But he took her hand anyway.

"Yeah you do. Everyone does. Look," she stepped to the left, "Just follow me, alright?"

"Fine," Dean did as he was told.

"Well don't act so ecstatic about it," Jenna laughed. "By the way," she said while they were waltzing around the room, "What is wrong?"

"It's not important anymore." Dean shrugged it off.

"Yes it is," she replied seriously. "You're hurting," she gave a small smile, "I can feel it."

X

"Earth to Dean!" The demon tapped him on the shoulder.

Dean looked up and out of his memory.

"You might as well do it. I mean, I am going to kill your brother next, and then precious Jenna. Do you really want to see that?"

He glared at her. "Not if I kill you first."

She laughed, "And how are you going to do that?" Shaking her head, she closed her hand around the his on the handle of the gun. "One shot. It'll barely hurt."