Chapter 8: What do you See?

Dean looked up at the peaceful-looking institution as they pulled up.

Man, I hate asylums, he thought with a sigh, Something always goes wrong.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Dean replied, pulling some fake IDs from the glove box. "Come on. Let's go."
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Dean walked up to the young receptionist at the counter with a charming grin and held up a fake doctor's ID.

"Hey, there. I'm Dr. Dean Marcus, and this is my assistant Sam. We have an appointment with a patient named Jessica Hoffkins."

"Oh, yes, Doctor. You can go right up. She's in room 256."

Dean looked up sharply and he and Sam both exchanged glances.

"256?" Dean asked.

"That's right," the lady confirmed.

"Thank you," Sam said to her as he and his brother walked away from the counter.

"256," Dean mused, "Why does that not surprise me?"
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Dean slowed as he reached the door marked 256. An older man stood there, obviously waiting for them.

"Hello, Doctors," he greeted, "I'm Dr. Simon."

Dean and Sam shook the man's hand in turns, not failing to notice the glance he gave to the young men and Dean's leather jacket. The slightly balding man pushed his glasses up his nose as he continued.

"I think that I should tell you a little more about Jessica's condition before I allow you to see her," he said. "See, she was traumatized by her sister's death and hasn't spoken a word since she's been admitted."

"She hasn't spoken?" Sam asked.

Dr. Simon shook his head. "Not a word. For five years she's been completely silent. Honestly, I don't think there's anything you can do for her."

"We were told that she was admitted because she began claiming that spirits killed her sister. Am I right?" Dean asked.

The doctor nodded. "Here, let me show you something."

He led the two young men to a small office a few doors down and pulled out a file.

"Here are some of the things she says she sees. Frankly, I've never seen anything quite like them before."

He handed Dean and Sam a stack of sketches. Dean's first impression was that they were very good and very accurate. They were drawings of what he knew to be spirits and, more than that, demons. He exchanged another glance with Sam. He knew they were thinking the same thing. This girl Jessica was more than just a clairvoyant if she was seeing demons as well. She was something more. A more advance type of psychic, and a more dangerous one if on the wrong side.

"I think we'll go see her now," Dean said to Dr. Simon.

"Alright," the elder man replied, "But you won't find out anything new, I'm sure."
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When Sam saw the young woman he was instantly heartbroken by the sight of her. This couldn't be the twin of the vibrant woman from his dream, could it? That young woman had had a life to her, even though it was only her spirit that he had communicated with. But this young lady was the one who looked like death. Her long black hair was unkempt, her face pale, her body thin in a sickly way. And her eyes... Her green eyes were unfocused and seemingly soulless. The eyes he had seen in his dream had not been like that. Granted they had been her sister's eyes and not her's, but the two of them being twins they may as well have been the same.

Sam sat in the chair at the table across from the girl and Dean took the chair beside him. He couldn't help but pity the poor girl. After all, they shared a similar gift, didn't they? She saw demons and he saw the future? Only he had been spared her fate. He hadn't rotted away in an insane asylum because Dean had been there. Dean had been there to help him through the whole ordeal and to accept his abilities. But this girl... She was not able to keep her gift a secret after her sister's death. And Sam could have easily shared her fate if things had not gone as they did.

"Jessica," Dean's voice broke through his thoughts and brought him back to the present. "Jessica, I'm Dean and this is my brother, Sam. We've come to try and talk to you about a few things."

Sam saw the girl turn and look at them both. He even thought that he saw a glimmer of recognition in her eyes, but that was impossible. They had never met before.

"Jessica, we know about the things you see," Dean continued as she made eye contact with the older brother, "and we don't think you're crazy. But we need your help. You see, we think that Emily is trying to talk to us, but we don't know what she's trying to say. We thought that maybe you would."

Dean frowned as Jessica remained silent, just looking back and forth between Dean and Sam. Her eyes seemed to trace them, weigh them, study them. They were not the eyes of a medicated crazy person, but of a lucid, intelligent young woman. That alone gave Sam hope.

"Maybe you could draw us something," Sam suggested, remembering Lucas, the boy Dean had helped somewhere at the start of the brothers' journey. Lucas had also gone silent after witnessing his father's death. When Dean and Sam had come to kill the thing that had done it, Dean had coaxed the boy into helping them by drawing them clues. The boy had even begun to speak again thanks to Dean. Sam inwardly felt a brief glimmer of pride for his older brother. If he had done it for Lucas, than maybe he could do it for Jessica as well.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Dean replied, smiling at Sam, "I know that even in death, you and your sister must have a connection," he told Jessica, "'Cause even in life the two of you had a gift, am I right?" He watched hopefully as Jessica took up the pencil and sketchpad. "Anything you know, anything you think that Emily would want to tell us about the recent deaths."

The two brothers waited in silence as the girl drew. They couldn't see the picture, but both were hoping that it would shed some light on the whole situation. When Jessica stopped and put down her pencil they both waited with bated breath to see what she had drawn. They both let their breath out in a heavy sigh.

Sam had to admit, even though the picture wasn't what he had hoped for, it was still very good. It was a perfect portrait of Dean. From the long eyelashes to his day's stubble, down to every last detail and shadow. It was perfect, almost life-like, and it made Sam smile to see it.

"That's very good," Dean said with a slight smile, "but that's not what I meant."

He watched as she ripped out the page and gave it to the older Winchester.

"Thank you," he said, "But, Jessica. We wanted you to draw us what your sister was showing you."

Jessica merely nodded in reply, pointing at the picture, and then pointing at Dean, and that's when Sam understood what she was saying.