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"And you're going to lose so many…" she trailed off, throat convulsing, and eyes burning. "So- so many people, in the end. And it won't end, not for a long while." She paused, trying to remember what her uncle had told her so many times. Recalled the words burned into her mind about the blue-eyed, brown-haired girl who had saved them that rainy evening, and what she had said.
"Carry on. It's what you will do; it's what you have always done. Carry on." She blinked back the tears in her eyes as she glanced at Sam again. She darted forward to wrap her arms around Dean, around her to-be uncle's waist. He stiffened, but made no move to push her away, strangely enough. There was something about the girl that made him trust her. When she spoke, it was quiet enough that only he could hear it under the pattering of rain on the tin roof above them.
"Write down, and remember your stories about da- Sam, I mean. Someday there's gonna be a little girl who will want to hear them all the time, and every night before she goes to sleep. So please, for that little girl's sake, please, please remember them." Jessie drew away, glancing up at a face full of confusion, knowing he would understand fairly quickly what she was talking about.
She turned towards Sam, and he shifted uncomfortably as she stared at him for a moment, trying to commit the sight of him forever in her memory. She sniffled slightly, as she realized this would be the only time that her dad would ever see her this old.
The only time he would ever see her grown up, and he didn’t have the faintest idea who she was.
As she walked over to him, she paused, glanced up and met his eyes, asking silently, please let me have this! He relaxed slightly, seeming to understand, but still wary. Sam was willing to let the slightly crazy (but harmless; towards them, anyway) girl attach herself to him in a way that more resembled a boa constrictor’s grip than a hug, in a rather desperate seeming move. As she clung tight to him, memories of a past life assaulted her.
Of a young Jessie playing with the shell casings her Papa had left lying around- cleaned of gunpowder and tasting of sharp metal when she bit into them, curious. Her dad had laughed, before gently extracting the casing, saying no we don't bite those.
Of her fourth birthday, when Uncle Dean had- according to Uncle Cas- jokingly bought a pie for her birthday cake instead of the super chocolatey one Jessie had seen (and immediately wanted) at a local grocery store. When Papa had sighed and said "Dean," All exasperated and groany, her uncle just grinned brightly and stuck a candle into the middle.
Of the many Christmases, she had spent curled up in her dad's lap, while they both dozied in front of the TV, warm and safe, some of her most treasured memories.
And finally, of her sixth birthday, blood spattered walls and screamed denials, of a warm but lifeless body that wouldn't move no matter how much she begged her Papa to get up, please Papa, please, get up!
The memories flashed through her minds eye, and she whimpered, trying not to burst out bawling entirely. She breathed for a moment, and got ahold of herself, before turning her head upwards to meet Sam's eyes, noting his discomfort.
She sighed and loosened her fists from where they had been clenched onto her dad's worn coat, and stepped back, before glancing up to meet his eyes. "Sorry, I know you probably don’t usually have strange girls crying over you,” She gave a watery smile when she heard Dean snort off to the side, and mumble, “You’d be surprised,” before continuing what she set out to say.
“Remember… remember that you are always loved," Her voice broke. "That you always were, and you always will be, Pa- Sam. Sam. Always and forever."
Jessie started as her watch beeped, lifting her wrist up to check the time. She grimaced, giving a wobbly laugh. "It looks like my time with you guys is coming to an end." Sam frowned, obviously wondering what she meant. "Who are you? I mean, you just appeared, and you killed the shifter so quickly- like you knew exactly what it was going to do and when! And you talk to us like you know us- what's up with that?" She grinned, scrubbing her face to get rid of the tears. "Always knew you were the smart one, P- Sam."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean frown and open his mouth. Jessie quickly overrode what he was going to say. "Can't answer most of your question, unfortunately. Uncle Cas would have my head; though I can say this: I did know exactly what the shifter was going to do." The brothers glanced at each other at that, Sam's mouth settling into a distinctive 'I'm-going-to-figure-out-what-exactly-you're-talking-about-and-then-possibly-exorcise-you' look.
Dean tilted his head, considering. "Uncle Cas?" He asked. She grinned at him, "Yeah. Second best uncle a girl could ask for," She spoke quietly, winking at him, and she could see the understanding hit him like a freight train. He glanced between her and her dad, shocked into silence. Sam hadn't heard what she said, and had been looking elsewhere when she had winked, and so had no idea what had just transpired.
Jessie glanced at her watch again, noting she only had minutes left. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, weighing the consequences of raising Uncle Cas' wrath, before deciding it was worth it. She flicked the power switch before loading up the camera, and then tossed the slim piece of tech to Dean, who caught it with ease, before arching an eyebrow at her, silently asking.
"Press the middle button on the left side," She told him, before positioning herself next to her dad and grinning up at him. "Smile!"
Jessie threw her arms around his waist before turning towards Dean, and a second later the flash went off, proving the picture had been taken. She let go of her dad, and held her hand out towards Dean, who tossed the phone back to her. She looked at the photo. It wasn't a particularly good one. They both had blood on them, and her Papa was bleeding from a cut on his cheek, and was covered in dirt, while frowning down at her. She was turned towards the camera, curly brown hair tangled and dirty from when the shifter had managed to knock her down. Despite all of this, the picture was perfect and she knew she would always treasure it.
She frowned as she felt someone prodding at her consciousness, before recognizing Uncle Cas' presence. She slipped her phone into her pocket and made sure her gun and knife were both were at her hip and ankle respectively. She glanced at the brothers, who had moved towards each other and were now staring at her contemplatively. "Well guys, it looks like the angel express is boarding, so I'll see you later. Thanks for not shooting me!"
She laughed, feeling the last of her tears dry up, and as white light and whispering feathers flared around her, filling her vision, she realized that she felt whole for the first time since her father's death. Felt that, maybe, just maybe, she could move on and stop being trapped in the past with her fathers death.