It had been three days since Dean and Jamie had shown up on Sam's doorstep. They had stayed there in his apartment with him, Sam deciding that it was probably better that were there rather than in a motel somewhere. He and Dean had talked, tried to work out what could have happened to their sister, how so much unbearable pain could have all gone on for so long without either of them noticing, picking out the signs that had maybe been there at the time that they just hadn't seen. They hadn't spoken much about it with her, figuring that she wasn't yet in a position where she felt comfortable enough to really tell them everything, it had, after all, been only four days since she had first managed to tell Dean about it. They were trying their best to be understanding, to sympathise and give her the space she needed without prying or pushing her to tell them what had happened, but it was hard when they had such a burning curiosity to understand.
Sam had noticed how completely void she was, she was entirely shut down, and he could take a good guess that was the only reason she was appearing to handle everything so well. He remembered thinking to himself at the time Dean had told him that she was taking it well, he had expected her to cry or yell or something, but there was nothing. She was cut off from her own emotions, never allowing them out. She wouldn't face them at all, she was just blank. But Sam knew, as soon as she did manage to let them out, she wasn't going to be able to hide it all away forever, it was going to come out eventually.
Dean sighed as he reached down and pulled a beer from his younger brother's refrigerator, more out of boredom than any other reason. He popped off the cap and leaned against the door, glancing down to where his brother sat at the table, seeming to be paying little to no attention to whatever the eldest Winchester was doing to entertain himself. He had spent the majority of his time there either watching tv or emptying the kitchen of food. Sam had been trying to concentrate long enough to get some of his college work done, much to the amusement of his brother. While Jamie had been quiet, not really talking much to either of them, especially not about what they had found out; she couldn't go through it all again. Explaining it once had been bad enough, not again.
Before either Sam or Dean could think up something to say to break through the silence of the kitchen, the sound of a phone ringing echoed around the small room. Dean frowned and glanced over to where his sister's phone lay on the side counter. "Jay," he called over his shoulder to the next room, unconcerned. "Your phone." She headed out and made a move for it but he had already picked it up, ready to hand it to her up until he noticed the name flashing up on the screen. "Bobby Singer." he whispered, nothing but shock in his words. He looked to her, eyes wide in shock, and frowned in confusion. "Bobby knows you're alive?"
Jamie sighed. "Dean -"
But before she could get out a single word of protest, Dean flipped open the phone and held it to his ear. "Bobby?" he answered, the silence on the other end telling him that he had obviously taken the older hunter by surprise. He could imagine him pulling back the phone just to make sure that he had called the right number.
"Dean?" Bobby questioned, he sounded beyond confused, somewhat remorseful as though he knew how badly she had wanted to keep herself a secret from her brothers.
"Yeah, Dean." he replied, his tone hard. "Who were you expecting?"
Bobby sighed. "Dean -"
He felt something like betrayal, as though he couldn't get his head around the fact that someone he had trusted for so long could have kept a secret like that for him for all those years. He must have known how badly Dean wanted to know what had happened to her, known how much it had hurt him to wonder all those years, and he had never told him.
"How long have you known, Bobby?" he asked bluntly.
"Dean -" Bobby went to say something but he wasn't having it.
"How long?" he demanded, his tone sharp.
Bobby gave another heavy, defeated sigh. "Since she left."
"Son of a -" Dean stopped himself before he could get really angry, before he said something that he was more than likely going to regret. The phone dropped to his shoulder, away from hearing distance at the other end. "Does he know?" he asked Jamie, his voice low and serious.
Jamie shook her head. "Not everything." she mumbled, avoiding eye contact with him all together. "But he knows enough. Where do you think I went the night I left?"
Dean narrowed his eyes and returned the phone to his ear. "We're not done." Was all he said before he hung up and dropped it to the table with a bang. He turned back to Jamie, his face completely serious. "Tell me everything, now."
Four Years Ago
Bobby crossed his living room towards the front door of his house, frowning at the sound of the continuous and impatient knocking on the other side. It was almost three in the morning, he didn't expect whoever, or whatever, was on the other side to be good.
He pulled open the door to the unexpected face of a teenage girl. "Jamie?" he frowned and looked behind her, seeing that she was alone.
"Hey, Bobby." she replied simply, offering up a small smile.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. His eyes fell to the bag on her shoulder, looking like it was full, and then to her bloodshot eyes. "Come in," he added, stepping aside for her. "Are you alright?"
Jamie passed him and headed into the house, dropping down her duffel bag beside the couch with a sigh. "Yeah," she said brightly. "I'm just great." He didn't miss her voice crack over the words, pretty sure, even without looking at her, that she was forcing back tears.
"But?" he pressed.
Jamie turned to him slowly and heaved a sigh. "I walked out." she told him simply, giving a small shrug with her words.
"You walked out?" he stated, raising his eyebrows. "Where are your brothers?"
She hesitated for a moment before looking up at him again. "Indiana." she muttered.
And right there, Bobby knew something was wrong. There wasn't a lot of things that he could think of that would leave her in a position to turn her back on her brothers. He couldn't imagine anything seeming more important to her than being with them, she had stayed with them through everything in the past.
He looked her up and down slowly, his eyes coming to a stop at her t-shirt. The front of it was stained red with a patch of blood, it looked fresh.
"Is that yours?" he asked her, his eyes never leaving it. Jamie followed his eyes and sighed, pulling her jacket back around her. "Show me." he said, his tone uncharacteristically hard with her. He never become impatient with her, ever, not unless she was hurt.
"Bobby -" she went to protest, but he wasn't having it.
"Show me, Jamie." he repeated, sterner. Without a word, she pulled up her shirt to show him the deep gash that ran across the side of her stomach. It appeared to be a couple of days since it had happened, but it looked like she'd been in a particularly nasty fight with someone. There was dark bruising around her stomach and ribs, some looking old and some looking fresh. "What happened to you?" he asked, the concern coming through clear in his words.
Jamie scoffed, she didn't care anymore. "John." she stated simply.
Bobby frowned, clearly taken aback by that. "Your Dad did that?" he pressed, despite what he thought he told himself that couldn't be what she had meant. John got angry, yeah, but he didn't beat his kids, not to that degree. Or did he?
"Oh, don't look so shocked." she muttered, almost sounding amused by it. "He's only been doing it for the past ten years."
Bobby narrowed his eyes at her, something wasn't right. "Jamie, have you been drinking?" he asked bluntly, the way she spoke, the way she didn't seem to care about anything anymore, there was something different about her.
She nodded slowly, unconcerned. "Yes, yes I have."
Bobby had never seen her like that before. He had never seen her drunk, he'd never heard her give him that kind of tone, he'd never known her to so much as back talk her Dad, never mind walk out on him. "Jamie," he sighed. "What's going on? Hm?"
Before she could think up an answer, what Bobby presumed would be a lie anyway, the phone rang from the other side of the room. He sighed and crossed the room, narrowing his eyes at the caller ID. "Hold on," he muttered, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "It's your Dad."
Her face fell, there wasn't even an attempt made to hide it. "Bobby, don't." she practically begged him. "Please, don't."
But Bobby ignored her and rose the phone to his ear. He knew that if he didn't answer it John would only grow suspicious and call him again, and then he'd show up, because if there was one thing John Winchester wasn't, it was stupid.
"Yeah, John?" he answered, his tone casual, as though there was nothing at all wrong. As though he didn't have a teenage girl in his living room crying and telling him that the bloody gash in her stomach had been put there by her own father.
"Have you seen Jamie?" John's voice sounded from the other end of the phone. He sounded impatient, not having much time to listen to anything that didn't concern the matter at hand.
Jamie took a step towards him, her eyes locked with his, pleading. "Please, Bobby," she whispered, quiet enough that she wouldn't be heard by her Dad. "Please."
"No," Bobby shook his head, there was no saying no to her. "Not since the last time she was here, why?" he asked, finding himself curious to know what John's side of this story would be.
"Oh, she's walked out," he replied casually, he didn't sound even remotely phased, but Bobby had a feeling that it was all an act that had been put on. If he knew John as well as he thought he did, he'd be freaking out about where she had gone, especially if she was no longer planning to hide where her bruises were coming from. "She's throwing some teenage tantrum." he added simply, like it wasn't a big deal to him.
"Hm," Bobby gave a short sound of unconcerned understanding. "Teenage problems." he muttered, becoming more and more riled up with the other hunter.
"Yeah," John gave a small sigh. "You know how kids are," he said simply. "Call me if she shows up, okay?"
"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "You got it." He didn't wait for him to say anything else before hanging up the phone and turning back to face Jamie. "Alright," he sighed, defeated. "Sit down and talk to me, kid. Tell me what's happened."
She shook her head. "Bobby -" she began, but he wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Either you sit down and tell me what's going on or I'll call him back." he retorted, his tone leaving her no room to argue with him. But she couldn't tell him, could she? She trusted this man with her life, more than she had ever been able to trust her own father. She knew for a fact, never doubting, that he would do anything for both her and her brothers. "How often does he hurt you, Jamie?" he asked, his voice a little softer.
He could see the confusion in her eyes as she looked up at him, he could tell by the tears and pain in her them that she had never told someone what had been happening to her before, there had been no escape for her. She had been suffering in silence for what she had said to be ten years.
"You believe me." she whispered.
Bobby frowned, confused as to why she would think anything otherwise. "Of course I believe you." She dropped down onto the couch with her head in her hands, shaking it slowly. "Do Sam and Dean know about this, Jamie?" he tentatively asked, he couldn't imagine that they did. There was no way Dean would allow her to stay in the same place as someone who hurt her, no matter who it was. She always came first. "Do they know what he does?"
Jamie scoffed. "Are you crazy?" she looked up at him and shook her head again. "No, no one knows. Just me and Dad." she muttered. "And now you, I guess."
"Does he hit them?" he questioned, because if it had gotten to a point that even she couldn't take anymore, he knew it had to have been bad there, because she didn't walk away from anything. She never had done.
Jamie shook her head. "I don't think so." she muttered. "I don't know."
But she had seen them both walking around the motel without their shirts on hundreds of times, there were never marks on them, not like on her. She could barely show her skin half of the time. And Sam and Dean shared a room, if there was even a single scratch on Sam then Dean would have seen it, and there was no lying to Dean where Sam was concerned. If something had happened to Sam, Dean would know. And if something like that had happened to Dean, he would've made it his job to ensure that it wasn't happening to either of his siblings.
Bobby noticed the vacant look on her face. "What else does he do to you, Jamie?" he asked her softly, a lot softer than she had ever heard him sound in the past.
"What?" She looked physically taken aback by his question. "Nothing."
"Jamie -" he went to protest but she stopped him.
"Nothing." she repeated bluntly, but Bobby didn't look convinced. "Just, please don't make me go back there."
He sighed and shook his head, he didn't know what he could do. "He'll come here looking for you, sweetheart, he's not stupid."
"I know," she sighed, finally bringing her eyes back up to meet his. "I wanna hunt."
"No." he answered her as the words had barely left her mouth, he didn't even have to think about it, there was no way in hell that it was happening. "You're sixteen."
"I know what I'm doing." she retorted, she was going to argue her case whether he wanted her to or not.
"I don't have any doubt that you know what you're doing, I know how well you can hunt, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous."
"Any less dangerous than going back to him?" she countered. "If I go back there, Bobby, I won't make it." Tears filled up in her eyes as she spoke. "I can't handle anymore. I just, I can't."
"And what about your brothers?" Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Are you just gonna turn your back on them? They're gonna wanna know what happened to you. And you know that."
Jamie closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I can't go back." she whispered, her voice cracked over her words. If she was serious enough that she was prepared to never speak to her own brothers again then there was no doubt left that she was living with a monster. He hadn't seen her cry in a long, long time. Even when she had been a kid she barely cried. And to see her doing it right in front of him, looking so desperate and alone and pleading with him to help her, he couldn't say no. He couldn't let her go back to that. "You have to promise me that you won't ever tell them."
"I can't do that," he said quietly. "Jamie -"
"Please, he'd find me. You know that." The tears finally spilled over her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She didn't even bother to wipe them away. She cracked. "Why does he do this to me, Bobby?" she cried, her voice small and timid. "What the hell did I ever do to deserve this? I don't get it."
Bobby closed his eyes for a second, thinking hard. He moved to sit down beside her and gave a deep breath. "Listen to me, you didn't do anything, okay? None of this is your fault." he told her, his voice calm and steady, as if to make sure that he got through to her. "You know something, Jamie," he paused, unsure of whether to tell her, but then he realised, she blamed herself, she needed to hear it. "I know what it's like to live with a Dad like that, and I'd never send someone back to it." He noticed her eyes widen at his words, but he continued before she could cut in and say anything. "But you have to promise me something, you have to promise that you'll take care of yourself, and you call if you get into trouble, and you come back to me if you have a problem, alright?"
Jamie nodded. "I promise."
Bobby nodded slowly and brought up an arm to wrap around her shoulders. She hesitated for a moment before she leaned into him and allowed herself to cry into his shoulder, for the first time in years she let the pain spill out of her. Her Dad was supposed to be the guy whose shoulder she could cry on, not the guy who had her crying onto another man's shoulder. It wasn't right, none of it was. But somewhere deep down she thought maybe she could escape, maybe it would get easier, and maybe she could finally move on.
Sam and Dean stared at her as she spoke, telling them everything about the night that she had finally walked. There were tears shining in both sets of eyes that watched her so intently. It wasn't just shock, it was hurt, betrayal, anger.
"I can't believe he never told us." Dean murmured. He pulled a hand down his face and pushed back his emotions, keeping himself calm.
Jamie shook her head. "You don't get it, do you?" He continued to stare at her, waiting for an explanation to what he really couldn't comprehend. "If I would've come back there I wouldn't have survived." she said bluntly. "Either he would've killed me, or -" she suddenly seemed to realise what she was saying, way too caught up in her own explanation, and stopped.
"Or what, Jamie?" Sam pressed, holding his breath as if he already knew what she was going to say.
"Or I'd have done it myself." she finished simply. Neither of them would even answer her. They couldn't. "Why do you think I left? Why do you think it took me so long to leave? I left once I couldn't take anymore, once I was finally at the end and none of it was worth it anymore."
Dean cleared his throat and blinked back the tears that once again shone in his eyes. "Jamie, what are you saying?" he asked her, his voice strained.
"What he did," she looked down, refusing to face them. "He made me want to die."
And suddenly, they understood it, both of them did. There was no way in hell that their Dad would have let her stay with anyone else, and he would never allow her to hunt alone. She had been right, it was a case of walk away from all of it and never look back or she was trapped. Stuck forever as a prisoner in a life of abuse and pain and fear. And after so long, there was only one other option to get out, and that wasn't pretty. She had held on for as long as she could because of them, because she hadn't wanted to turn her back on her family, but then she had quit, it had become too much.
And for the first time since it had happened, they were almost glad that she had gone when she did. Because at least she had managed to stay alive.
Dean pushed himself up from the table, his jaw clenched as he held back the murderous anger than ran through him. It didn't matter that it was their Dad anymore, as far as he was concerned he had stopped being a father to the three of them the first night he had laid a hand on his own daughter. He wasn't a father to them anymore, he wasn't family to them, he had never earned that, and so there was only one solution left; he had to be dealt with.
There had never been someone hurt Jamie that had been able to walk away, and that was a rule that had never ended. John Winchester had hurt Sam and Dean's sister, and that was never a good place to be sitting. Because they would always come.