John Winchester: Early 30's (34)

Dean Winchester: 18 years-old

Sam Winchester: 14 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 13 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

MEET AND GREET

Dean carefully disengaged himself from the sleeping Jasmine's clutches, but as soon as Dean stood up straight just outside of the Impala's door, she was wide awake. She looked around the dark space of the car for a moment, the only light from the motel sign, before she spotted Dean. John had already gotten out and unlocked the room door.

Jasmine shouldered off the blanket and slid across the seat towards Dean; who, by the looks of it, had been waiting for her. Dean held out his arms for her, but Jasmine shook her head and slid out onto the pavement. She could feel the pebbles and dirt against the sensitive flesh of her bare feet. Instead she grasped Dean's hand in her own and gave him a small smile.

"If I let you be Prince Charming again; it may go to your head." she told him like they were old friends, but the truth was they had barely said ten sentences to each other.

Dean let out a hearty laugh in surprise; this girl certainly had spunk! Dean had a huge grin on his face as he walked Jasmine to the open room door. When they hunted, they never stayed in a place for to long, so they always rented a motel room with two beds. John got his own, while Dean and Sam usually shared or Dean would end up sleeping on the couch that came with the room.

Even though it was past midnight, Dean knew that Sam would be awake despite the hour. He always was when ever Dean and John went on a hunt. But Dean wished that this was one night that he was fast asleep in his bed, so that Dean and John didn't have to confront Sam's attitude. And he knew that Sam was going to have an attitude because he could hear John's hushed voice as he reprimanded his youngest son.

Sam lost the attitude, mostly, as Jasmine stepped into the room and Dean shut the room door. Jasmine pressed closer to Dean, still holding his hand as she looked at nervously at Sam. She gave the fourteen year-old a shy smile and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Jasmine."

Dean watched closely as Sam smoothed his expression out, but he could still see this brown eyes burn with anger. But he stood up from where he sat on the edge of his bed and shook Jasmine's hand grudgingly. "Sam," was all he said before sitting back on the bed.

Dean saw Jasmine smile sadly at Sam as she took her hand back, but when she looked at Dean, she had on a grin.

Dean smiled back even though he could feel Sam's glare. "Okay, so the bathroom is over there," Dean pointed to the open room. "Have a shower and get cleaned up; I'll put some clothes on the toilet for you to wear. And when you done you can have something to eat."

"Okay," Jasmine nodded and on pure impulse, wrapped her arms around Dean's waste and gave him a hug. "And thanks for finding me, Dean."

Dean rubbed her back. "Sure thing, Jaz." he smiled as she retreated into the bathroom and closed the door.

Dean glanced back at John who was sitting at the little corner table drinking coffee as he heard the spray of the shower, and sat on the bed beside Sam's. Sam cleared his throat as Dean started to untie his boots. Dean glanced at his little brother, who in turn glared.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean finally asked sick of Sam's selfish mood. John raised his eyebrows and so did Sam; neither having heard Dean use that tone of voice. "Quit looking so surprised, Sam. How can you be as selfish as to yell at dad for bringing that girl here after all that's happened to her? She can't go home because she's "dead", and all you can think about is yourself!" Dean whispered quietly to his brother, as he glanced at the closed bathroom door.

Sam didn't meet his eyes but he crossed his arms over his chest and his usually friendly brown eyes were burning.

"Her father just killed her and you can't even be nice long enough to tell her your name properly." Dean finished, digging in his duffle bag for a shirt and pajama pants

Sam stuck his chin out stubbornly. "She looks pretty alive to me." he said in a snobby tone.

"Her father killed the shapeshifter that looked like her, Sam!" Dean threw the t-shirt down on the bed more roughly than was really necessary; but Sam was really getting on his nerves. Dean looked up into Sam's eyes, his gaze sharp and serious. "You're always complaining that me and dad don't treat you more like an adult, yet here you are; acting like a five year old who has to share his toys." he shook his head in disappointment at Sam as he turned toward the bathroom.

John had watched the scene from behind his coffee mug and to say that he was surprised to say the least. He had never in all his life since the day Dean was born, seen his son raise his voice like that at any human before. Especially not him and definitely not Sam; so yes, the surprise had kept him silent. But even if he had wanted to interrupt he wouldn't; Sam's attitude was selfish - he just had that attitude that he was better than other people and he should always get his way; and when he didn't, he had a fit. But what worried John wasn't that fact that Dean had raised his voice at Sam, but the fact that Dean was already attached it seemed, to Jasmine.

The second Dean came out from the bathroom he headed for the small kitchen that consisted of a small counter, old fridge and stove, there was a sink and a microwave. Dean took two slices of bread, smeared on some mustard, slapped on a couple of slices off ham from the fridge as well as a slice of processed cheese.

Just as Dean finished cutting it in half, Jasmine came out of the steaming bathroom. Her skin was finally clean but it was still pale; hell, anyone's would after spending two weeks in a dark sewer. Her hair was washed and combed, the darks locks stopping just past her shoulders. Dean's t-shirt looked like an extra-large on her narrow shoulders, coming down to almost her knee's and the short sleeves just above her elbows. The blue plaid pants were folded multiple times at the legs and she had tied the string so that they wouldn't fall down.

Jasmine felt awkward as she stood in the bathroom door of a motel room with three strangers after she had been kidnapped by a monster; something that couldn't even be real - something she had only been in movies and shows, read in books. But she didn't want to think of that now, or even ever for that matter.

"Jasmine," Dean pulled her from her thoughts. He set the plate with the sandwich on the table across from John. "Come and eat something."

Jasmine gave Dean a smile and started towards the table. She glanced at Sam from the corner of her eye; his back was to her from where he sat on the bed, his shoulders were stiff and his head was down. Though Jasmine couldn't see his front, she could tell that Sam's hands were fisted. Dean pulled the chair out like a gentlemen and pushed it in as she sat down. As Jasmine settled, Dean bowed with a sweep of his arms.

"My lady," he said formally like a butler would.

Jasmine could help the giggle and blush that marred her pale face; and John and Dean couldn't help but smile at her reaction, Sam didn't. The first bite of the sandwich that Dean made was . . . the only thing that Jasmine could think of was Holy Crap! Jasmine was never a big fan of ham, but this was the best thing she had ever tasted in her life. It didn't matter for the fact that she hadn't eaten anything in basically two weeks because she just wanted to live in this sandwich when she was finished, she slumped in her chair with relief; in her eyes, this seemed like the best day in her whole life.

John wished to God that he didn't have to be the guy to ruin her moment of contentment; but it didn't matter what he wanted because this was the girls future they were talking about. "Jasmine," he said.

She looked up at John and seeing the seriousness in his expression; straightened in her chair.

"I know you tired but we have to talk about this, it's important." John started and Jasmine nodded. "You have to know that what happened to you wasn't normal."

"You don't have to say that again." Jasmine told the older man; clutching her hands in her lap she glanced at Dean who was sitting in the third chair between her and John. Dean gave her a reassuring smile.

John continued. "There are things out there in the world that aren't normal; they hurt innocent people. And our job is to get rid of those monsters and save the people that they had hurt."

"Like you did with me," Jasmine filled in.

"Like we did with you," John agreed. "But in your case, the results weren't normal. The monster that attacked you was called a shapeshifter, and because it took your appearance; people think that you killed all of those people."

"But I didn't!" Jasmine defended herself, looking between John and Dean.

"We know," Dean reassured her, giving her clutched hands a squeeze. Jasmine gave a sigh of relief, but her heart squeezed when Dean continued. "But nobody outside this room does."

"But . . ." she tried to protest, but it was weak. "Why can't you just tell them or I can show them myself."

But John was already shaking his head sadly. "If we told them, they would asked questions and we would get arrested; it's just to messy. And would you really want to know about the things out there?"

Jasmine shook her head sadly in answer; no one would want to know what was really out there, they liked things just the way they were - where only humans would do damage like what had happened to her. "But where does that leave me? You did kill the shapeshifter, right?"

"It is dead," John confirmed. "But we weren't the one who killed it."

Jasmine looked at him confused. "Than did someone else like you kill it?"

John was silent, so Dean took over. "Jasmine, when we were in the sewer and I told you the shifter was dead, you said that you knew, that you felt it. Did anything else happen?" Dean glanced at John and saw the surprised expression and Sam had turned his head slightly towards them to listen. But he kept his eyes on Jasmine.

Jasmine shook her head. "When you said it died, I felt this really sharp pain in my head; like a connection being severed. When it took my appearance, I could feel these tendrils picking through my mind and it gave me massive headaches; so when it died, so did the pain. But that was all I felt. Other than that, it would come down every other night, I guess. To give me water and to tell me who it was going to kill." she finished, looking at Dean questionably.

"The night it was killed," Dean told her reluctantly. "It went after your dad." Jasmine gasped and put a hand over her mouth and felt tears collect in her eyes. "No, your dads fine!" Dean was quick to reassure. Jasmine let out a breath and blinked away the tears that had threatened to overcome her.

"But?" she could hear it unspoken.

"But, he's the one who killed the shifter." John finished for his son.

"What you really mean is that he killed ME." Jasmine looked him in the eye, her expression hard.

"Yes, that's what I mean." John gave a sad nod.

"That's why I can't go back." she concluded. "So what are you going to do to me?"

"You have two options;" John told her. "One, we can drop you off some where, but no where in Khuru. Or two, you can stay with us."

Dean saw Jasmine and Sam sit straight at the last one, and for two very different reasons. Jasmine in surprise and Sam in shock.

"If I stayed with you, would I do what you do?" Jasmine asked. "I can save people from what had happened to me from happening to them?"

John nodded.

"Then I would like to stay." Jasmine said without hesitation.

John nodded again and sighed with relief; finally glad that that was over and done with. "We're heading out tomorrow," he informed everyone in the room. He looked at Jasmine, "We'll try to find you some clothes as soon as possible," Jasmine nodded and gave the grizzled man a warm smile. "I'm John, by the way." he stuck out his hand and she shook it firmly. "That couch is a pull out?" John asked Dean.

"I think so," Dean nodded.

"Okay, you can share with Jasmine." John told and neither argued. "Sam, get back in bed." he ordered his youngest son. Sam did so without a word.

"Hop in," Dean lifted the blanket up from the pull out couch and gestured invitingly.

Jasmine didn't say anything and climbed right in; because the prospect of an bed - any bed, was so inviting. The most sleep she had ever had was the half hour in the Impala, and it wasn't because of the fact that she had been rescued; it was because she felt so at ease curled up at Dean's side. She lay wide awake as Dean was in the bathroom and watched with some interest as John laid a line of salt in front of the door and both windows, and wondered what monster that would protect them against.

Her mind didn't wander to far on the subject; because the toilet flushed and the tap was turned a few seconds before Dean came out of the bathroom wearing a t-shirt and his boxer shorts. Now, being a thirteen year-old girl she would have had a full body blush at sleeping next to such a hunk; but as she watched him walk over to the pull out couch, she felt nothing of the such. Within the thirty seconds that they had talked in the tunnel, they had actually become friends, and it only grew on the trust that she had shown him and the kindness he had shown her in turn. Jasmine gave Dean a smile as he crawled under the blanket with her and flopped down with a sigh. He gave her a smile in return as she wiggle a little closer, before settling down.

Dean had shared his bed with many; John and Sam for instance, being in the hunting business, you tended to be close to those you hunted with. And, since the age of sixteen, many woman. Some his own age and more older; for a different persuasion that just sleeping. But for some reason, Jasmine was different. Dean didn't want to sleep with her like that; she was thirteen for Christ sakes. But for some reason he just felt closer to Jasmine than even Sammy. It's not like Dean didn't love Sam with all of his might, that was his baby brother after all. But Jasmine was just . . . Different, was all Dean could think to describe her.

In each others presence, Jasmine and Dean fell asleep faster than they ever have before.