Bobby Singer: Early 40's

Dean Winchester: 26 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

FOUR WAYS IN, ONEWAY OUT

Dean paced around on the gravel, the little wooden box clutched in his hands. His breath was heavy and his heart rate high. But it was broken at the same time, crushed into little shards that gabbed at his insides with every breath. Everything was wrong, screwed up. They were gone, HE was gone. Forever. Dean didn't know what to think about Sam, not after the message he heard in Jaz's dying breath. But Jaz, God, Jaz! He held back the sob that came up his throat, but not quite as it racked his body slightly.

He tried to hold back the well of tears that flooded his eyes, but it was no use, the tears over whelmed him and cascaded down his pale cheeks. He had to stop pacing; afraid he might hurt himself and instead fell to his knees. He didn't think he could take it, take this pain in his soul. It felt like it was ripped apart, and he knew that the reason for that was because Jaz had been his soul mate.

They were a two piece puzzle. He was one piece and Jaz was the other, and when they found each other in that sewer all those years ago, those pieces connected and created a picture. and when Jaz died, it was like someone had stomped and tore at that puzzle until it was just shreds. That was what was left of Dean's soul, everything inside of him.

Dean stared to scrape away the gravel in front of him, digging a shallow hole. He didn't care, nor really feel as some of his nails were torn away, or that his finger tips bleed. All he cared for was that shallow hole he dug, and that small wooden box that he shoved into the hole before pushing the dirt back over. All he cared about was getting Jaz back. And for that to happen he had to give his soul away at the crossroads.

It was just a soul, right? And right now his was in tatters. He would get ten more years and Jaz, it wasn't that big of a deal. He forced the tears out of his eyes as there was a crunch in the gravel; he looked up to find a demon. He wanted to jerk away, but instead he forced himself to stay. He stood, keeping an eye on the red-eyed demon.

She was older, probably her mid thirty's, her hair was dark black and her skin was pale. She wore a black dress that clung to her body and showed off her cleavage. Once upon a time Dean might have checked her out, but not now, not ever. The demon gave him a flirtatious smile, he didn't return nor care for it.

"What?" she purred. "No fore play?"

Dean clenched his jaw, forcing the urge to lash out down. "This isn't a game,"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "This is very serious; you want to sell your soul, Dean-o."

"Don't call me that!" Dean snapped out.

She help up her hands in surrender, but a smile was on her red lips. "As you wish,"

Dean ignored her. "I want you to bring Jaz back, and in ten years you can collect."

The demon tapped her chin with a slender finger with a nail as red as her lips, as if she were thinking about it. "No,"

Dean's face dropped. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

She smiled. "Even fore your gorgeous soul, it's not worth it, honey."

"Eight!"

She shook her head as she walked a slow circle around a stationary Dean.

"Six!"

Still, she shook her head in a negative.

"Five!"

She paused, and Dean thought that he had it, but she shook her head and started to walk again.

"Three!" he was getting really desperate; he just wasn't sure he could live without Jaz.

She tisked.

"One!" Dean all but sobbed.

She stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips as she faced Dean. Her head cocked slightly to the side and her perfect brows raised. "A year?" she scoffed.

"Yeah, a fucking year! Take it or leave it." it was out of his mouth before he could stop; he was just so God damn frustrated. Why the hell wouldn't the freaking demon take his stupid soul?

"No deal," she said slowly, before she turned her back on Dean and started to walk down one of the roads.

Dean ran forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her around with a force. "Why the hell not?"

She looked at Dean with pity in her eyes. "Why not?"

Dean just stared at her, his heart pounding heavily.

She sighed, her eyes rolling towards the sky before shooting to the ground. "Okay, I'll make you a deal."

Dean nodded rapidly. "One year,"

But the demon shook her head. "One month," she corrected.

"Huh?"

"Don't play dense, Dean-o, it doesn't suit you." she tisked again like a scolding school teacher. "One month, take it or leave it."

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! How could he have gotten himself into this? He just wanted Jaz back that was all. But to get him back and only being able to live a month. Dean couldn't go any longer without him, it had only been less then twenty-four hours and here he was, trying to sell his soul. Losing Sam was one thing, but losing Jaz was just worst.

"Fine," Dean croaked, a sudden lump in his throat. "One month and you bring Jaz back."

The demons red lips stretched in a smile, and before Dean could stop her, she yanked from his grip and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forwards. She crushed her red lips to Dean's, sealing the deal of his soul.

It was dark all around him, dark and empty. He had walked, trying to find something other then the empty. For all he knew, he could have walked for hours, miles even days and wouldn't have known it. It was like time didn't exist wherever it was that was. He wasn't tired or hungry, he was well, nothing and that freaked him a little. He had no idea where he was and why he was there, no idea where Dean was. He couldn't remember how he got here, he couldn't remember anything really. His head was just filled with thought of Dean. He had tried calling out, but before the sound even left his lips it was sucked away into the silence. He was about to give up and just sit down when the red eyes came.

Jaz eyes snapped open, his brown hues shooting from side to side, searching through the dark dimness from those red eyes. He gave a sigh when there were none and he noticed that the space around him was different. It was real, and with that realization came the intense sharpness in his stomach. He curled into a ball and pressed his hands against where the sharpness was emitting form. The pain lessened enough so that he was able to breathe again.

He called out, yelling for Dean, but only silence answered him.

From his curled up position, he looked at his surroundings. The dim light was from the fact that the outside dawn was leaking from the boarded up windows. The room he was in was old, dusty and more then likely abandoned. There was the old bed he was laying on with its bare mattress, and a full body length mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed.

As the pain throbbed again, Jaz sat up, keeping a hand pressed against his stomach. He was slightly hunched, afraid of straightening in case the pain came back. He now noticed the fact that he wasn't wearing any shoes, but had on a pair of paints and a sweater. Jaz stood and walked to the mirror on the wall, taking in his appearance. He looked normal enough, maybe a little paler then usual and the bruises under his eyes were a little more darker then he had last remembered.

Jaz slowly lift up his sweater to reveal his stomach and now knew why it hurt so much. There was a wound, mid way up his stomach, nearer to his left side. There was just one, and it didn't look that big, but by the thickness of this scar tissue, it had to have been deep. But Jaz knew that that wasn't the real cause of the pain, but the fact that the wound was fully healed and still had the stitches in it. Jaz stared at it for a moment before he let his sweater fall back down. He wouldn't be able to take them out, not now. He didn't have the tools, didn't have Dean, nor his cell phone and he had no idea where the hell he was.

Jaz couldn't quite remember how he got the wound in his stomach, but some how he knew that it had something to do with Sam and that Sam was now dead. But that was as far as he got because those red eyes would enter him mind and make his stomach tighten and heart clench. What a dream or nightmare.

He had to find Dean and he had to get out of this place and quick; he so didn't like the mojo floating around here. Sure, he did know where the hell he was, but he figured that if he walked long enough he'd find a payphone or something and be able to call Dean to come and pick him up. The one thing that he was very reluctant to do, was walked on the filthy ground in his bare feet - but knew it would be worth it if he could just get away from this place.

_

Dean almost missed him. What with the dim lighting and all of the fog, the Impala's headlight catching Jaz at the last second. Dean slammed on the brakes, the sleek car skidding to a halt. Dean slammed into the steering wheel with the force of it. He shot out of the car, the door open and the car still running as he booked it to where Jaz now stood on the side of the road.

The second the red eyed demon vanished, he had jumped into the Impala and speed down the highway back to the abandoned house where Jaz lay dead - hopefully, now alive that he had sold his soul. But what he didn't expect was Jaz walking down the highway in bare feet with his hand pressed against his stomach.

Jaz's hand come up as bright head lights flashed passed him, hardly able to see in this in this fog. Because of that, he was very unprepared as Dean barrelled into him, both hitting the ground with the force. Jaz gave a grunt of surprise as he hit the ground; it was mixed with slight pain as he felt the stitches pull in his healed wound. But that didn't matter as Dean's arms wrapped around him and he buried his face in Jaz's neck. Jaz hugged him back and didn't let go. It felt like forever since he had seen Dean, felt him and smelled him - but he was here now and Jaz never wanted to let go.

Whatever Jaz was feeling, Dean felt it a hundred-thousand-million times more. Jaz was alive and kicking and that was all Dean needed to know. Dean couldn't fight the tears that pooled in his eyes as he buried his face in Jaz's neck, his tears falling on Jaz's neck. His sobs shaking his body.

Jaz rubbed his back. "Its okay, Dean." he soothed. "We're all okay," he didn't know why Dean was so upset, but figured he could find out later.

Dean shook his head back and forth for a second, trying to control his overrun emotions. He took several deep breaths, and finally the tears and sobbing stopped. He decided even before he made the deal with the crossroads demon that he would never tell Jaz, Bobby or Dad. He would keep it a secret for the rest of his life if he could, but he knew Bobby was going to find out - he had seen Jaz's dead body after all.

Dean leaned up on his elbows so he could look Jaz in the face. "I missed you," he whispered, giving Jaz a deep kiss.

Jaz returned it. "And how exactly long have I been gone?" he asked between kisses.

"Long enough," Dean said vaguely, crushing his lips once again to Jaz.

"Are you done yet?" Jaz asked, clicking his tongue in inpatients.

Dean paused, stopping with the tread halfway out. "I'll be done when you quit asking that." Dean continued to pull the thread the rest of the way out.

"Tell me again why I was in that abandoned house," Jaz asked as he stared at the ceiling of their room at Bobby's.

"We had to stop there for the night," Dean recited, continuing to pull the stitches out of Jaz's fully healed wound.

"And what's wrong with a motel room?" Jaz fallowed up.

"It would be a little odd for me to be dragging an unconscious person anywhere, wouldn't it?" Dean pointed out again.

"Right," Jaz chewed on his lip. "Why didn't I have any shoes?"

"Because," Dean voice grew slightly rough in his frustration. "I got kinda lazy, okay?"

"How long was I out?" Jaz inquired.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Long enough," he said.

Jaz noted that they were the same words he said when they were on the side of the road. The same vague response that didn't really and never would, answer his question. If Dean kept saying that then it had to have been a while. Dean finally pulled the last stitch out and set his tools aside and watched Jaz as he lay on the bed exposed. He looked at the stab wound that had killed Jaz, the wound that Dean couldn't stop from killing his soul.

He ran his finger lightly over the healed scar tissue, the work of the red eyed demon. His touch was feather light and the newly healed skin still twitched. Jaz's eyes slipped closed at Dean's touch, the feel of calloused finger against his skin. Jaz could hear clothing hit the floor and knew that Dean was stripping down.

Jaz's breath hitched slightly as Dean unbuckled his belt before undoing his jeans and tugging them off. With Dean naked in front of him, he forgot all about the red eyes and the fact that when he and Dean arrived at Bobby's, he looked as if he were seeing a ghost.

Dean sat between Jaz's legs, admiring the lovely sight. If he was really only going to live for one more month, he'd better make the most of the time he had left. Now hadn't he?