References/mentions of 4.11: Family Remains and 4.12: Criss Angel Is a Douchebag.
Worst Psychic Ability Ever
Jane had remembered Pamela's house being… not cluttered, but it had its fair share of stuff. Now that Pamela was blind, it seemed cluttered. When she had first arrived, she had asked Pam had she managed to get around. She had gotten a very short, sarcastic response for her trouble. She had been here a week now, and each day, she was newly amazed at the ease Pam could navigate the place without use of her walking stick.
She was less amazed with her 'progress'. Pamela had flat out told her that she wasn't a 'teacher for weirdos', but she had also given it a go. She had begun teaching Jane everything she knew about her own psychic abilities and then offered suggestions how to apply them to Jane's. The issue was that they were two different types of psychics. Pamela could read, Jane could feel, it was like she had physical premonitions.
Physical premonitions that usually pulled her somewhere, or to someone, and then that was it. Usually. Though it seemed to come and go of its own accord which was not handy at all. Jane could definitely think of several occasions where it would have been nice to have some damn warning.
The best she and Pamela could determine was that she was a form of precog, she had premonitions, of a sort. Personally, Jane would have preferred this ability to manifest itself into forms of visions or something, something without the migraines.
"You want to what?"
Pamela smiled in the direction of Jane's less then amused voice. "Hypnosis is relatively well respected, I'll have you know."
"That's great, but I don't want to-"
"Jane, we've already established that either you're a mutant or your ability didn't develop properly, right?"
"We did?" They had, but that was over drinks. Drinking with Pamela had been great, they had brainstormed, talked shit about angels, and ogled the Winchesters. Jane had even given up some info usually privy to her, Dean, and their bedroom. She wasn't regretting dishing the delish, but the brainstorming session was coming back to bite her in the butt.
"Yes, we did. So we'll do a quick hypnotize session and see if we can figure out which one it is, and fix it."
"What if there's nothing to fix?"
"Then God has given you the worst 'gift' of all time."
"When do you first remember acknowledging your had a gift?"
"Dean was speeding. I knew he would hit a deer."
"You knew?"
"I felt it."
"You acknowledged it then?"
"Yes, and no."
"No?"
"Common sense."
Pamela rubbed her forehead, feeling a bit exasperated. "Jane, before then, did you ever suspect anything?"
Jane didn't answer.
"Jane?"
"When I was young, I knew things. I got headaches." Jane said finally, her brow wrinkling.
"And what happened?"
"My parents. Told me I was a freak. They were very harsh."
"So you forced yourself to stop?"
"I ignored it, and the headaches. I forgot. It was common sense."
No trauma, there was nothing there besides a child repressing. And Jane had since rediscovered her gift… "On the count of…"
"Are you coming home anytime soon?"
Considering she had been at Pamela's for a few weeks now, Jane had expected that question a bit sooner. "Uh, I don't know, why?"
"Because, traveling with just Sam is boring."
"You are such a liar."
Dean chuckled, unaware that it was causing his wife's toes to curl. "Maybe, but I miss you, sweetheart. I know you miss me."
"Only at bedtime." She teased.
"Harsh, very harsh. We're heading to Iowa, we just… finished a case in Nebraska."
The way his tone had changed alerted Jane to the fact that something was bothering him. She knew better then to press it though. "Yeah? How'd that go?" She asked as casually as she could.
"I'm glad you weren't there for it, Janey." He had gone completely serious on her. "It was easily one of the most messed up situations I have ever come across. Believe you me, I've seen some jacked up shit in my time, this took the cake."
She waited patiently.
"I don't know how it started and I don't want to but long story short, a dad had locked up his daughter, got her pregnant, and then locked up the kids too. She committed suicide and they… basically became feral."
"You had to put them down, didn't you?" She really wished, after she had already said it, that she had worded it differently. It was like she was talking about rabid dogs.
"Yeah, we did."
Jane got the sense that wasn't what was bothering him. "Dean?"
"We'll talk when you come back, okay?" His tone made it clear he wasn't having this conversation while on the phone. "So, when you coming home?"
Home being him. "Yeah, probably. I don't think we're going to accomplish much more here."
"Find anything useful out?"
"Yep, I have the worse psychic ability of all time but if I were to try using it more often, I may be able to… do something with it."
"Basically, you're the handicap of the psychic world."
"Such a way with words, Mr. Winchester." She said dryly. "No wonder I couldn't resist you."
Dean was laughing when they hung up.
"Pam, I think this is a horrible idea!"
Jane hadn't been expecting an answer and she hadn't gotten one. Sighing, she kept her hands outstretched in front of her, trying to feel her way around the pitch black house. Pamela had had the brilliant idea of putting Jane's powers to task in a little test. The test being: Jane was going to be in danger.
They had gone throughout the house and 'prepared' it. Jane knew the blackout stuff she had put up over the windows wasn't for Pam's benefit; the woman literally lived in the dark. There were things littering the floor –hazard for both Pam and Jane- and Pam had given her the instructions of 'try to live'.
"Pam! If you fall and break your leg, I'm going to-" Jane shut up when her spidey senses perked, freezing and focused. Sometimes, the pull was strong enough to be her literal guide. Like the time she had followed it right back into Dean's life after all those years, right now… not so much. More often than not, not so much. She turned in a slow circle, willing it to not turn into a migraine. "OUCH!"
"I win. Let's do it again. You have until the count of ten and then I swing again."
Jane was rubbing the back of her head. So much for avoiding a migraine. "How are you getting around without killing yourself?"
"I'm blind, darkness means dick to me." That and when she had had Jane set up shop, she had made sure the areas around walls were clear enough for her to get through. "Eight… seven…" Pamela grinned when she heard Jane cursing, followed by footsteps. Cocking her head, she listened, finishing off the count quietly. "Ready or not, Janey!"
