JESS

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.

A/N: Okay, first off…thank you all so much for the great reviews, and if I didn't reply back…I'm sorry. Just know that I do love getting them and love to hear what you think.

A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own. Also, I tried to look at stuff about Stanford on the web but have never been to the campus so if what I write doesn't quite jive. Sorry.

Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.

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Sam stood in an empty room and just looked around in slight confusion. How the heck did I get here? The last thing he remembered was waiting on Jess to get out of classes and then…

He quickly looked around the room but couldn't figure out where he was. No matter how hard he tried to peer into the shadows they seemed to fold in upon themselves slightly making it difficult to see any details. There were two chairs sitting across from each other but no windows or even a simple door to the room. Sam's throat suddenly felt dry and he tried to swallow the sudden lump of fear that was threatening to take him over. Where the hell was he?

"We're neither here, no there," came a soft feminine voice from behind Sam and he whirled to find nobody there. "I guess…you would then say we were somewhere in between." The voice sounded again and Sam started to become angry as he couldn't find the person behind the voice.

"Who are you?" Sam asked bitingly already tired of playing this game.

"Don't you know?" came the disembodied voice again and this time Sam didn't turn.

"How can I know you if I don't even know what you look like?" Sam asked heatedly as he clenched his fists in anger. He didn't know why, but he could feel his anger build as he listened to the sweetly feminine voice taunting him.

Bubbling laughter seemed to echo around Sam and he turned slightly this way and that as it seemed to change directions before he felt a cool wisp of air cross his left shoulder before he felt her whisper. "I'm your salvation."

Sam gulped hard and finally turned to see an old woman with flowing white standing in front of him and he took a startled step back. "You're-"

She just gave a slightly evil grin that seemed so wrong before nodding. "Yes. The woman you helped that day on campus."

Sam just stared at her for a moment not sure what to say next. "But…why?"

She gave a smug grin and then turned her head with an air of arrogance before glancing back at him. "Why not?" She crossed her arms and started to walk around the room as she spoke. "You see Sam, I know what you are?"

Sam swallowed visibly as he watched her pull one of the chairs over to sit facing him. And as she sat down she said almost conspiratorially with a grin. "A psychic." She gave him a big grin but then let it fall suddenly growing serious. "But I know it's not what you want. Is it?"

Sam stared at her for a moment before finally shaking his head. "No. I don't."

She then nodded in understanding and motioned for him to sit down.

Sam hesitated before slowly making his way to the chair. He sat down never taking his eyes off of the woman afraid of what might happen if he did.

She turned the chair back to face him and then sighed as if preparing to tell him this big secret. "What if I told you, I could make it all go away?" She could see Sam start to say something and cut him off. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. I know what having these powers has done to you. The pain they have caused."

Sam felt himself nod even as his thoughts turned to Jess. If it hadn't been for his visions, maybe Jessica would still be alive and they would now be engaged to be married maybe in the fall. He also wondered if his powers had been the reason the Demon had been drawn to their family. If maybe his mother would still be alive if it weren't for his 'special talent'. "How?" he asked in almost a whisper.

She just smiled and sat back. "Simple. You just give them to me?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I just…give them to you?"

She just nodded. "Nothing fancy. I can make all of that hurt and pain and worry go away, Sam. And all you have to do is just give them up to me."

Sam just stared at her in shock. It couldn't be that simple. Could it? He bit his lip as he thought about it. He wouldn't have any more psychic abilities. He would never get death visions again. He wouldn't have to worry about freaking his brother out with 'spoon bending' as Dean loved to call it. He would just be…him.

Lillian stared at Sam in anticipation watching as an array of emotions swept across his face and her body almost hummed with the anticipation of getting her hands on that much psychic power. When she had been alive, she had gotten a taste of the infinite amount of psychic powers Sam held within his grasp and had become addicted. It wasn't until after she had killed her second psychic and received the power of premonitions that she had seen her mistake in trusting John and would need to make arrangements before he came to kill her. She had known the day that he would kill her and thus was prepared when it finally came to have her last revenge even if it took a full year to complete.

Sam struggled with the pros and cons of giving up his powers torn between what to do. Something kept niggling at the back of his brain that this was wrong. It couldn't be this easy. But what was the catch. He kept thinking that he had read something somewhere about a psychic and his powers, but couldn't seem to come up with the information.

Lillian could tell that Sam was starting to put some of the pieces together and suddenly became weary of this game. "Time's up, Sam? I need an answer."

Sam sat staring at his feet for a moment more before finally raising his eyes to hers. "No."

Lillian sat there in shock for a moment before a look of anger crossed her face and Sam suddenly found himself flying across the room to smack up against the far wall.

Sam grunted slightly and then tried to move realizing that he couldn't.

"You stupid little child," Lillian spat as she came across the room to him. "Did you think that you really had a choice in this? I will have your powers and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Do you wanna bet?" Sam sneered before closing his eyes in concentration.

Lillian stopped dead in her tracks a slight look of shock crossing her face as she tried to move and found that she couldn't. She then looked up at Sam and smiled. "Impressive. So when did you figure out that this was all in your head?"

Sam struggled to move and found that he still couldn't. "The minute you seemed to appear out of thin air." He tried to push her away but struggled against her powers and could feel a slight headache start to form from the pressure.

Lillian just laughed. "I knew you were smart. But you're also…just…a novice." She slowly lifted her arm as if it was stuck in molasses and then took a small step forward.

Sam could feel the pressure holding him against the wall increase a little and an invisible hand seemed to wrap around his throat slowly choking him. He gasped slightly but tried to maintain his hold on the woman knowing that at least here he could have some control over his powers.

Lillian took another step forward and her fingers closed a little more as she tightened her psychic grip on Sam. She was too damn close to have her plans come crashing down around her because some boy thought he was stronger than her psychically.

Sam knew he was fighting a losing battle as Lillian slowly made her way towards him. He desperately tried to think of some way out of this running through all the possibilities of what she could be or if there was any way to stop her. Suddenly a thought came to him. "Christo."

Lillian flinched slightly and her eyes turned black as she smiled wickedly at him. "Very good, Sam. You figured out my little secret for making my plans work. Too bad that it won't do you or your family any good," she snarled as she took the last step and finally latched on to Sam placing her hands on either side of his head.

Sam cried out slightly as pain exploded in his mind and he felt like a thousand volts of electricity were rushing through his body. God he had to do something. If not to save himself, then to save his family at least.

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The steady click-whoosh of the ventilator and beep of the heart monitor set an eerie background for the fear that seemed to fill the hospital room as the two older Winchesters stared at the youngest lying in the bed with his eyes wide and unseeing. Everything seemed to stop for a moment as they waited for something that didn't seem to come.

Dean grimaced slightly at the pain in his arm but quickly pushed it away as he continued to stare at Sam. "Sammy?" he breathed out but received no answer.

John watched in confusion as his youngest kept his brother's hand in an iron grip. He knew it had to be painful the way Dean was clutching at Sam's arm his own bent at an odd angle. "Sam, can you hear me?" he asked hoping to receive something but not getting anything. He started to try and pry Sam's fingers from Dean's hand and was rewarded with a cry from Dean as Sam bent his oldest son's hand back even further.

Dean lurched slightly back trying to keep his hand from breaking as Sam pushed his arm back even more and he bit his lip to keep from crying out again. "Sam, please," Dean said in a strained whisper. "What's wrong?"

Sam continued to stare up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes and Dean knew for sure that whatever this was…it wasn't his brother trying to communicate. "What are you?"

The click-whoosh of the ventilator was their only response and both Dean and John just frowned in frustration.

Finally a slight movement caught John's attention and his eyes traveled away from Sam's to the other side of the bed. His brow furrowed in confusion as he rose slightly from his bent position to see what it was and then his eyes lit up and he suddenly pulled away.

Dean startled at his father's sudden movements and he tried to turn to see what he was doing but grimaced as he was reminded once again of Sam's iron grip. "What are you doing?"

John didn't answer as he quickly went to his coat and dug through the pockets until he came up with a pen and notepad.

"Dad?" Dean asked in confusion not sure what John was doing as he walked around to the other side of the bed.

John could feel his heart thump loudly in his ears as hesitantly took Sam's hand in his.

"Dad!" Dean almost shouted and John finally looked up at him hoping to hold off the questions for just a moment longer.

As John picked up Sam's frantically moving hand and put the pen between the fingers Sam quickly gripped the pen and John laid it down on the pad of paper.

At first there was no movement and John held his breath until the pen finally started to move and he couldn't help but grin slightly.

Dean just looked between him and Sam with a bewildered look on his face not sure what to think and then things finally started to click together. "Auto-writing?" he asked in almost awe.

John nodded slightly and pursed his lips as he watched Sam's fingers move jerkily at first but then more frantically as he worked his way across the paper. John recognized his son's neat scrawl and turned to try and read what it said but couldn't because Sam's hand was still in the way. As he ran out of room, John quickly changed the page the rustling of the paper the only other sound in the room.

Dean sat in the tense silence looking between his father and Sam wishing that this wasn't happening. His arm gave a dull throb of protest at how it was being treated and Dean tried to move a little but couldn't. He looked up at Sam and couldn't help but feel a sense of dread that this wasn't the last they would see of this and just hoped that when this was over that Sam wouldn't be permanently damaged by it.

A minute more and John watched as Sam's hand began to shake the lines wobbly as he continued to frantically write until his whole body was shivering and John gulped in fear that this was just the begging of something bad. "Dean?"

Dean just watched feeling the quiver of Sam's shaking radiate through his iron grip make Dean's arm vibrate before Sam's clenched once more and Dean double in on his hurt arm trying to free it.

John watched in horror as the pen finally stopped mid-word as if Sam had been interrupted and then his fingers wrapped around the pen so tightly Sam's knuckles turned white.

He only had a second to realize what was happening before lightning quick Sam started to plunge the pen towards Dean's back. "NO!" He grabbed for Sam's arm barely catching it before he buried the pen in his brother's back.

All three Winchester's struggled in a tangle of arms on the bed for a moment with John doing everything possible to hold Sam's arm back. He looked down at his son and with one final thought desperately said, "Christo."

Sam finally blinked hard and when his eyes opened again they weren't the black that John had feared, but they seemed to hold a bit of clarity as they stared up at the ceiling before they slowly made their way to his face.

"Sam?" John asked hesitantly still holding his son's arm away from Dean.

Sam continued to stare at him for a second more before his eyes rolled up in his head and they closed.

Both John and Dean gave out a startled whoosh of air at the sudden release of tension from Sam's body as he seemed to fall limply to the bed and John stumbled back slightly from the momentum of his pull as the pen fell limply from Sam's hand to clatter on the floor. He then stood there staring in awestruck wonder.

Dean moved slowly as he removed his hand from Sam's now limp one wincing slightly at the sharp pain radiating from his crushed fingers before cradling the hurt arm to his chest protectively as he stared at Sam. He took a step away and tried to get his heart to stop pounding so damn loud in his ears.

The ventilator continued its steady click-whoosh as if nothing had ever happened adding a sense of creepiness to the situation.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked completely confused hoping that his Dad would have some kind of answer.

John just shook his head, slightly out of breath at a complete loss. He looked down at the forgotten pad of paper and reached to pick it up.

Both men started as a loud piercing beep broke the silence and John felt the color drain from his face when he realized what was wrong. "No."

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A/N: Well, there you go. The next chapter as promised, and yes I know another cliffie. Please don't hurt me. (says meekly as I hide behind my chair) LOL. Hopefully this explains a little bit more about what's going on with Sam. Anyway, let me know what you think by sending me a review. I'd really like to know what you think. It makes me feel all tingly inside. Until next time.