Title: Skepticism and Faith

Warning: Past Major Character Death, Sam Dies, Jess Lives, angst, hurt/comfort, major character injury, episode fic, case fic, BAMF Dean, BAMF Jess

Summary: Jess was terrified but she was going to find a way to help Dean. She was ready to do just about anything to heal him, because going on without him was just not an option.

Up 'til now they'd been able to avoid hunts involving kids as much as possible. At least hunts involving kids being the victims, Peter Sweeny in Lake Manitoc doesn't really count in the same way. But sadly that lucky streak had to break sometime and what a way to break it.

Rawheads were possibly the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard of. It was literally the boogieman. It hid in dark, dank, wet places and it preyed on children that wandered too close to its territory. In this case its territory was a rundown foreclosure on the outer rim of a subdivision.

By the time Jess and Dean had caught wind of the hunt and driven into town it had already taken three kids. It took two more while they were investigating.

Dean's journal said a rawhead keeps its prey for days before it finally eats them. By the time they go there it was already too late for the first three kids. Jess had to hide the tears she shed for the grieving parents in her bleached motel pillow case while Dean slept in the bed next to hers. She still hadn't gotten the hang of compartmentalization the way Dean has. It's obvious it bothers him just as much as it bothers her, but he can put it aside so much easier. His concentration on the hunt doesn't waver.

"Rawheads are vulnerable to electricity," Dean explained while he was rummaging around in the trunk. He pulled out two professional grade tazers. "Shoot 'em with one of these and it'll be extra crispy in no time."

Jess took the proffered tazer and examined it closely. She'd had extensive training in every firearm in the Impala, including some that they had to acquire just for her education, but Dean hadn't given her any instruction on something as relatively harmless as a tazer.

Dean looked up from checking his own tazer was in working order and met her questioning gaze. "It's just point and shoot. You already shot a flare gun, this is easier. No kick at all."

Jess hummed in thought and went back to familiarizing herself with her weapon. Something on the grip caught her attention and she squinted at it. "Um, is it supposed to have this wire sticking out like that?"

"Huh?" Dean leaned over and looked were she was pointing. "Oh, that. Don't worry about it. I souped them up myself. Had to jerry rig it a little to put it back together."

Jess stared down at the innocuous little self-defense tool in her hand. "When you say 'souped-up'," she asked hesitantly, "what exactly do you mean?"

"Let's just say that you could cook up a cow pretty damn quickly if you wanted to," he answered with a crooked smirk.

Oh God. Jess held it out as far away from her body as she could, even though she knew it would do jack shit if she accidentally shot herself. "Anyone ever tell you you're a little crazy?"

He titled his head and seemed to think that over then he shrugged unconcerned. Shoving his cow killing tazer in his jacket pocket he rounded the car to the driver's side. Jess looked back down at her tazer and sighed. She'd just have to be extra careful with her aim. She in no way wanted to cook anything other than the rawhead.

The house, when they pulled up to it, was on the derelict side of neglected. Somehow she highly doubted it had looked like that when its previous owners moved out. It was a running theme, she'd noticed, that anyplace touched by evil was just that much more broken down. It left a mark, she thought. Like her old apartment building where a yellow eyed demon burned her boyfriend up on the ceiling.

She and Dean had blessed the place, cleansed it of the supernatural taint. Looking up at the house where a boogieman ate three kids, she wondered if this was what her apartment building would eventually have looked like if someone rebuilt on the poisoned foundations.

Dean pushed the front door open soundlessly and moved into the house just as quietly. Jess followed him her own footsteps quiet like his. She'd only lost her clomping noisy walk after months of practice, but she'd finally gotten almost a professional level of stealthy.

A floor board creaked under her boot and she grimaced. Okay, so it was still a work in progress.

The door to the basement was just off the kitchen and the sound of dripping water echoed up the dark staircase.

Dean shined his flashlight downward and signaled Jess to follow as he descended the rickety stairs into the monster's lair. The wooden steps were alarmingly springy, but she kept her eyes peeled for movement in the darkness around them. The wood was damp and probably rotted, they were lucky the stairs hadn't given out under their weight.

The dripping was louder when she stepped into a two inch coating of water on the concrete basement floor. That was not good news, Jess bit her lip worriedly. Electricity and water do not a happy combination make.

She opened her mouth to voice her concern to Dean, but a faint sound of a whimper caught their attention. Their heads snapped around to a big standing metal storage cabinet shoved off into a dark corner.

Dean was in front of it in a flash, Jess not a step behind him. He yanked the door open and the bright beam of his flashlight fell on two small, dirty, terrified kids huddled together in the back of the cabinet.

"Where is it?" Dean asked as he crouched down and grabbed the little girl dressed in her school uniform pulling her out and passing her to Jess. "Do you know where the monster is?"

"No." The little boy shakily crawled to Dean his eyes wide and face pale. "It left. Don't know where it went."

"That's okay," Dean murmured lifting the boy into his arms letting him cling like a koala. "Let's get you out of here."

Jess already had her tazer stashed in her jacket pocket and the little girl securely on her hip. The water sloshed around the soles of her boots as she hurried after Dean. The sound echoed off the cinderblock walls, but she was too focused on getting the kids out of the basement to worry about the amount of noise she was making.

Dean pushed her ahead of him up the stairs with a wide hand between her shoulders. She tried to step gingerly on the spongy steps while still trying to hurry, Dean doing the same behind her. They had almost made it to the kitchen with their charges when a wet growl came from under the stairs and the sound of wood shattering almost covered Dean's shout of surprise.

"Jess!"

Spinning around on the top step, Jess sucked in a shocked breath when she saw Dean half crashed through the stairs, a tall hairy moist looking thing trying to drag him back down by the ankle.

The little boy hadn't let go when they fell, he seemed to be clinging tighter, because Dean had to pry him off and shove him none-too gently up onto the unbroken part of the stairs toward Jess.

"Take him!"

She had just enough time to drop the little girl, grab the boy by the back of the shirt and yank him up, as the rawhead growled again and dragged Dean the rest of the way back into the basement. It tossed him into the back wall and loomed over him. She waited long enough to see Dean kick the thing in the chest and get some fighting space before she turned back to the kids and started running with them to the front door.

They hit the porch and Jess stopped bending down she gripped the kids' shoulders tight enough to bruise.

"Get in the car and lock the doors," she ordered looking in their terrified eyes. "Don't open for anything until I come back, okay?" They nodded shakily and she shoved them toward the Impala. "Go!"

They turned and ran to the safety of the Impala. Jess turned and ran back to Dean and the danger of the basement.

The rawhead and Dean were fighting. Dean was getting thrown around the basement and the rawhead was growling and looming like the boogieman. Jess skidded to a stop on the top step barely catching her balance so she didn't tip down a broken up staircase. She pulled up her tazer and took aim as the ugly hairy thing lifted Dean up by the neck.

The wood creaked under her weight and the rawhead tossed Dean away ducking out of range a split second before Jess pulled the trigger. The leads shot out and smacked the cinderblock wall impotently. Cursing under breath, she started to scramble down the steps clutching at the rickety banister trying to climb over the big hole in the stairs. She barely got around the first crumbled step when she her heard Dean grunt in pain as he fell to the floor with a splash, then the ominous sound of an electric crackle.

Eyes widening in horror, Jess reached out a hand like she could stop this train wreck from happening. "Dean, no!"

But it was too late. The rawhead went up in mini lightning strikes of electricity, but so did Dean sitting in a puddle, water soaking into his jeans.

Water was one of the most powerful conductors of electricity, Jess thought, internally screaming as she helplessly watched Dean's body seize. The entire basement was covered in a two inch film of water and neither of them had prepared for that danger.

Now the rawhead was very, very dead and Dean was laying slumped on the floor very, very still.

"Dean?" she called, her voice strained. She got no response.

Jumping down off the bottom step she rushed through the water and collapsed to her knees next to him. Her entire body was trembling. She had enough wherewithal to the shove her tazer in her jacket pocket before it dropped from her shaky hands.

She was so cold, she realized, her entire being was pulsing with fear and her mind was a fluctuating mess of utter numbness and crashing thoughts. Jess almost couldn't steady her hands enough to press them to Dean's throat and find a pulse.

His skin was clammy with sweat and grimy basement water. Her fingers slipped before she found his pulse. It was fluttery, uneven, off kilter, much too fast and much too slow in intervolves.

Jess's breath hitched and she didn't even try to smother the whimper sneaking up her throat.

"Dean?" She took a deep breath and worked momentously hard to make her voice as calm and commanding as possible. She was pretty sure she failed. "Wake up, Dean! I need you to wake up!"

Grabbing his face in shaky hands, she bushed her thumbs under his eyes then pulled his eyelids up enough to see his irises. The light wasn't bright enough for her see if his pupils were dilated or not.

"Dean!" she snapped, twisting his ear before she even registered what she was doing.

That got her a hiss and full body jerk. He groaned low and whimpered high in pain, his eyelids fluttered struggling to open.

"Jessica?"

Her heart gave a lurch and she felt a whole new wave of trembling. She almost whimpered again in relief.

"Yeah," Jess breathed, "yeah, it's me. I need help, Dean." She couldn't seem to take her hands off his face. "The stairs are busted up and I can't carry you up them. Please, Dean, I need your help to get out of here."

Once he'd gotten his eyes open enough to strain through the dim light of the basement he kept them open. They were trained on hers and he stared at her like she was his anchor.

"Chest," he rasped. "Hurts." Weakly he raised a tremoring hand and pressed the heel of his palm right over his heart.

"I know, I know. But I'll help you, come on." She was finally able to release her hold on his cheeks and wrapped her hands around his right arm struggling to pull him to his feet. He couldn't seem to balance or hold his own weight enough to make it all the way up and collapsed against her.

Guiding his arm around her shoulders gripping his wrist in a bruising hold, she wrapped her other arm around his waist and started to practically drag him toward the stairs.

"Rawhead," he groaned stumbling to lift his feet from the bottom step to the next. "Did I get it?"

"'Course, crispy fried right up." Jess gritted her teeth and tugged him up the last step before the half destroyed mangled gap. "Grab the rail, I'll steady you."

Obediently, Dean grasped the shaky wooden railing and leaned on it heavily enough it creaked warningly. Jess held him around the ribs and did her best to take his weight as she propelled him forward along the half intact left edge of the stairs. Almost over the gap, Dean's knees gave out and he just barely caught himself on the railing and the intact steps above the hole.

Alarmed, Jess leaped over him, over the last step, and tried to pull him up the stairs and up right by the shoulders. Cursing and shaking and groaning, Dean made it standing again but wrapped his right arm tight around his chest.

"Fuck, it hurts. Feels like 'm havin' a heart attack." Dean grit his teeth let himself lean against Jess the rest of the way up the stairs and through the house.

"It's okay," Jess chanted the whole way to the Impala. "It's gonna be okay. You're alright. You're fine. Come on, just a little further."

When they reached the car the two kids they'd rescued had their pale dirty faces pressed against the glass. Jess practically ripped the passenger side door open and tried as gently as possible to lower Dean to the seat. The moment his butt hit the seat he fell backward and groaned loud and pained.

"Is he gonna be okay?" the little girl asked in a small scared voice.

"Yeah." Jess bit her lip hard enough to taste blood and lifted Dean's legs inside the car as he turned on his side, arms still wrapped around his chest. "Yeah, he's going to be fine."

She was trying to convince herself, she knew, but she didn't care. She had more important things to worry about.

Slamming the door, she raced around the car knocking into the hood and almost sliding over it in her hurry. When she got the driver's door open she reached down with suddenly rock steady hands, gently lifting Dean's head she slid in the seat lowering him down to rest on her thigh. Stretching over she wrestled, the keys out of Dean's pocket and jammed them in the ignition. Turning it over, she floored it away from the house in a spray of gravel.

Every time they come into a town one of the first things they do is map out where the hospital, police station, and any other state and city buildings are so they can either avoid them or get to them quickly. She already knew where the closest hospital was so there was no reason to slow down and check for directions.

Thankfully the kids in the backseat were relatively calm now and smart enough to know that sitting in the backseat holding onto each other and the door handles was safer than trying to distract her with talking.

Jess was turning off the street and barreling through the quiet neighborhood toward the inner city when Dean released his right hand from around his chest and reached up gripping her knee in a painfully hard trembling hold.

"Jessica?"

"It's okay," she answered automatically taking her right hand off the steering wheel and putting it to Dean's head. Feeling his clammy forehead she stroked her fingers soothingly through his sweaty hair. "You're gonna be fine. We're almost there."

They weren't but she wasn't going to even think about that. She pressed the gas pedal all the way to the metal floorboard and jerked the wheel into a left hand turn. The kids in the backseat slid a little across the leather, but they just gripped each other tighter and stayed quiet.

Dean's fingertips dug into her leg and he grumbled weakly, "Gentle. Baby's fragile."

"She can take it," Jess replied confidently.

Much too long after that, they were pulling into the emergency bay of the hospital way too fast, breaking way too hard, and almost rear-ending a parked ambulance. Jess had to grab Dean's shoulder to keep him from sliding to the floor.

There was a startled squeak from the backseat and Jess took a second to look in the backseat and check on their rescued kids.

"You guys alright?"

The boy nodded shakily. "Yeah, we're okay."

"Stay here," she ordered yanking the key out of the ignition and shoving the door open. "Don't get out for anyone until I come get you."

She didn't wait for an answer already running into the emergency room shouting for help at the top of her lungs. Using her height and waving her arms around she tried to take up as much space as possible so she couldn't be over looked in the milling crowd in the waiting room.

In the blink of an eye a team of nurses and a doctor with a gurney raced toward her and out the door to the Impala. Jess didn't take her eyes off them, off Dean until he was being wheeled away and disappearing through the emergency doors.

Only then, only when she couldn't see him anymore did she go back to get the kids, call the cops, and finish this absolute hell of a hunt.

Despite the cops' assurance that they were completely safe and the nice social worker trying to talk to them, the kids refused to step away from Jess. She understood how they felt. She hadn't wanted to go farther than five feet away from Dean after he'd pulled her from the demon fire.

It wasn't exactly a hardship to let them cling to her while they waited for their parents to show up. She wasn't proud to admit it -scratch that, she didn't care about her pride-, but she was clinging to them for support just as they were. She was just less obvious about it. By the understanding looks the social worker kept sending her she wasn't being as subtle as she thought, but once again she could give a flying fuck what anyone thought of her at that moment.

As it was Jess was getting some obtrusive looks from the other people in the waiting room. One guy disdainfully eyed her wet from the knee down and torn up jeans, her scuffed mud encrusted boots, and her dirt and cobweb covered Trolls t-shirt. She scowled back at him 'cause anyone dumb enough to nail their hand to a piece of plywood with a nail gun five times shouldn't be judging.

The doctor that had wheeled Dean away into the ER came up just as a man and a woman burst through the doors shouting the kids' names. Jess was thankful for the timing. She didn't want to have to choose between protecting the kids and getting an update on Dean. She knew which one she'd pick, the kids. Dean would disapprove of anything less and Jess hadn't been looking forward to her protective instincts battling each other.

The kids detached from her and raced to their parents catching the cops' and social worker's attention. Jess took the opportunity to meet the doctor in the middle sliding away from the attention the reunion was attracting. Stay under the radar was the rule of thumb. She'd been drawing enough attention to herself and Dean already, she didn't want more.

"Jessica Moore?"

Jess hesitated for a breath at the sound of her given name until she remembered that she'd given the intake administrator her insurance card. It'd been a long time since she'd used Moore in an official capacity, but what was she supposed to do? It wasn't like Dean had insurance and getting tens of thousands of volts of electricity shot through your body wasn't a hospital expense they could realistically use a fake credit card on. Who knew how long Dean would need to be in the hospital. The risk of getting caught and kicked out was too high. Jess wasn't going to chance it.

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack. A pretty massive one, I'm afraid."

Jess's heart lurched in a painful alarming way and her head pounded with the rhythm of her blood pumping.

"His heart, I'm sorry to say, is damaged."

Damaged? Jess's breath hitched and she's pretty sure she made a high pitched whining sound. She felt light headed.

"At this point all we can really do is make sure he's comfortable. I'd estimate he's got maybe three weeks left. Maybe a month."

It almost felt like her world was ending all over again. She could feel her life start draining away just as surely as Dean's was.

"We've done all we can, I'm sorry. We can't work miracles."

The walk to Dean's room was grey and cloudy. Jess felt as if she was moving through molasses and everything was in slow motion. Her mind was deathly quiet, but her heart was pounding hard and arrhythmic, like it was trying to give itself a heart attack to match Dean's.

The door was open, the curtain dividing the room bunched up against the wall so Jess had an unobstructed view of her partner lying limply in the hospital bed. Dean was pale, his skin gray around his mouth and eyes, his bright green eyes dulled muddy and sunken in. He was idly flipping through the channels on the crappy hospital tv mounted in the corner. Jess watched for a moment and felt nauseous as she observed the fine tremble in his hand holding the channel changer.

"I know I'm a sexy beast, but I'm saving myself for the nurse giving me a sponge bath." Dean looked over at her and flashed a pale imitation of his smirk. "Sorry."

Reluctantly, Jess let her lips curve up. "My loss, then." She finally stepped into the room and took a seat on the edge of Dean's bed. "I really wanted the privilege of scrubbing your hairy ass clean."

Dean snorted in laughter then winced and rubbed at his chest with an unsteady hand. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh."

Hissing through her teeth, Jess jerked forward as if she could actually do something to help him. "Shit, don't move. Are you okay? Should I call the doctor?"

He huffed and weakly slapped her hands away. "I'm fine, jeeze. Chill, Jess. What's the doc gonna do? Tell me I'm dying?"

"Stop," Jess demanded, her throat tightening up. "Don't say that."

Dean stopped and looked at her for a long moment, his expression grave. "This is the life, Jessica," he said, his voice scratchy and frail like she'd never heard before. "Sooner or later the life catches up to all hunters. It just caught up to me sooner."

"Don't say that!" she snapped, feeling panic creep into her chest. "There has to be something we can do. Magic or hoodoo, voodoo, something."

"No!" Leaning forward Dean grabbed Jess's wrist hard. "Don't even think about it. Those things always have a price."

"Then I'll pay it!"

"Stop! Stop it, Jess!" Dean grunted, pained, and collapsed back against the pillows. Guilt sprouted up next to the panic and Jess jumped up to grab the pitcher of water pouring him a small cup. He took it, but his angry expression didn't leave his face.

"Jessica, you cannot mess with that crap. Stopping death, bringing people back from the dead, that's necromancy and it never ends well for anyone. Promise me," he demanded pulling her toward him, his bruising grip returned to her wrist. "Promise me, Jessica, that you will stay away from that kind of magic."

Even with monitors and tubes stuck all over his chest, clothed in a paper thin hospital gown, laying in a hospital bed, Dean could still command her attention completely. His green eyes were set alight with his determination, and Jess found herself almost hypnotized by their intensity.

"Okay," she rasped through a dry throat, "Alright, no necromancy. I promise, Dean. I promise." She wrapped her free hand around his on her wrist and squeezed almost as hard as he was squeezing her. "But I'm gonna find a way to save you. You saved me and I won't stop trying to save you."

His breath ghosted out of him as his head fell back against the pillows, a wry resigned expression on his wan face. "So fucking stubborn," he muttered then released his grip on her wrist turning his hand over to thread their fingers together.

Rubbing his thumb against hers to comfort them both, his lips curved up in a mischievous grin. "Well, let's blow this joint then so we can get to researching and I can get myself a cheeseburger. Damn nurses won't give me anything, but yellow jello. I mean, why do they even have yellow jello?"

Jess watched in alarm as Dean started yanking off heart monitor leads and unpeeling the medical tape holding his IV port steady in his hand.

"Dean! What are you doing?!"

He looked up at her curiously as he threw his shaky legs over the side of the bed. "I'm getting out of the hospital before they figure out we can't pay."

It took Jess a moment to realize he had no idea the entire thing was being covered by the insurance policy her parents had given her when she started college. Then she felt stupid. Dean lived off aliases and credit card fraud. Of course it wouldn't even cross his mind that she would have legitimate insurance.

"First of all," Jess started as she slapped Dean's hands away before he could actually pull out his IV, "you just suffered a major heart attack and you shouldn't even be moving much less sneaking out of the hospital. And second, I already put the bill on my insurance."

Dean stopped fighting her efforts to push him back in bed and stared at her incredulously. "You have insurance?" The very thought bewildering to him.

"Yeah, Dean." She rolled her eyes and pressed the call button for the nurse to come make sure he hadn't done any more damage to himself. "I have completely legal health insurance just like ninety percent of every other normal person."

"Huh." He regarded her with an oddly warm, almost amused curl of his lips. "You know, sometimes I forget you weren't born to this."

A mixed swell of confusion and warmth grew inside her, but she didn't get a chance to respond because a nurse came rushing through the door. Apparently Dean's abrupt detachment of his heart monitor sent an alarm up at the nurses' station and that in conjunction with Jess's pressing the call button was cause for worry.

In the end, Dean's comment was forgotten in the face of his determination to sign himself out AMA. That led to many protests and grave reminders of the fragile state of his health.

"I'm dying anyway. I sure as hell ain't gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."

Jess thought that would have caused some insult, but since the only nurses he'd seen were male, she figured it was a valid complaint on his part.

Jess, the nurses, and the doctor that was summoned by the disturbance all pleaded with him to stay in the damn hospital where he could get professional medical help, but as in most things, Dean stubbornly got his way.

Forty-five minutes later the release forms had been signed and Jess was hobbling with him through the parking lot toward the Impala.

"You better not have messed her up at all."

Jess rolled her eyes, "Shut up and get in the car, Dean," and pulled the passenger side door open. "And no, you can't drive."

His pout was met with stony resistance and in a matter of moments they were on their way back to the motel they'd checked in when they'd first rolled into town.

They finally stumbled their way into the room and Jess hadn't even been able to guide Dean toward the bed when he started weakly pushing toward the table. Their research from the rawhead hunt was still piled up there and while Jess was itching to attack any and all research materials they had, she sure as hell wasn't letting him do anything other than lay down and rest.

"Uh-uh, Dean, no. You're going to lay down and rest. You just had a freaking heart attack, there's no way I'm letting you exert yourself."

"C'mon, Jess," he grumbled petulantly, "I did plenty of resting in the hospital."

"I don't care." She added a little more force to her tugging and got him pointed toward the bed as gently as possible. "We have a month at the most to find a way to save you and we got to keep you alive for that month."

Dean didn't respond, but he let her set him on the bed. He didn't let her push him to lay down though, he grabbed both her hands and looked up into her face with a grave expression.

"Jess, you know there's probably not going to be a way to save me." He squeezed her fingers to silence her when she opened her mouth to protest. "I don't want you to- I don't-" Blowing out a long breath he tried again. "You need to be prepared that I won't make it out of this one."

She swallowed around the tightening in her chest. "Don't. Just don't. I'm going to figure this out. I swear."

There was a long moment where he just stared up at her, just looking at her, like he was trying to memorize her. He quirked a tired grin at her. "I know if anyone can it's you." He looked away relieving her of his intense gaze and started struggling to stand up again. "Now, help me up. I didn't get my sponge bath and I smell like burnt rawhead and hospital. I'm gonna take a shower."

Jess couldn't find it in herself to argue with him over that, mainly because he was right. Neither of them smelled any kind of good and anyway, having him in the shower would give her time to put together a hexbag.

By the time they both got Dean into the bathroom and the shower turned on, he was losing steam, but pointedly refused to let her help him take off his clothes. He also wouldn't let her stay in the bathroom "just in case" he somehow fell in the shower and injured himself even more. Eventually exhaustion won out and Dean agreed to leave the door ajar so she would be able to hear him loud and clear if he took a nosedive into the tile and knocked himself out.

When Jess left the bathroom to give Dean a modicum of privacy she moved at nearly the speed of sound and left the motel door wide open as she raced out to the car to grab their "kitchen" out of the trunk.

She had the weathered wooden box on the table and the motel deadbolt locked in all of ten seconds. Shaking the anxious trembles out of her hands from having to leave Dean alone for even a moment, Jess sat herself down and started her work.

After she'd gotten a crash course lesson in the theory and process of making hexbags from Missouri she had started calling the box of an eclectic array of herbs and ingredients of power their hunter's kitchen. Since she'd first gotten the beginners manual Missouri had gifted her she had practically memorized the thing. She'd earmarked both Dean's and John's journals for any and all mention of hexbags, spells, or hunting methods that involved rituals, and had amassed a pretty good collection of books to study. In the loose division of hunter specialties, she had the makings and was on her way to being an expert in the field.

She pulled out mismatched glass jars and bottles of herbs and things. Grabbing up one of the relatively square pieces of leather and a sturdy leather cord, Jess spread out all her supplies and got to working on the healing hexbag she was going to force on Dean if she had to duct tape it to him.

In the middle of the leather, in no particular order, she placed a small deep red bloodstone, a dried chamomile blossom, a dried sage leaf, a pure white dove's feather, and a pinch of fertile planting soil. All were standard ingredients, but she wanted to give it a little extra kick. Give it a little extra power 'cause there was no way she was skimping when it came to doing anything and everything she could to help Dean.

She got up and started rifling through Dean's duffle. Eventually she found his favorite Metallica t-shirt and held it in one hand while she went and grabbed up her old, slightly singed Smurfs t-shirt. There was all kinds of power in all kinds of things. Regular everyday items become extraordinary when a person loved them. Regular everyday items became extraordinary when they are connected to a momentous or tragic event.

Jess turned both shirts inside out and flipped open the little scissors on her utility knife. As small and unobtrusively as possible knowing Dean would be pissed as all get out if she irreparably damaged his shirt, she cut a square of fabric from the bottom hem and set it on top of the other things on the leather swatch. She repeated the process on her own shirt knowing that it would add even more power behind it.

She'd been wearing that shirt when she first met Dean, it was a holdover from her previous life that she'd taken it with her into her new one, and it survive the destruction of demon fire. It all made the little square of light blue cotton just that much more.

Folding the magical items up in the smooth leather square, Jess tied it tight with the leather cord, and grabbed up her knife again to start the actual spell. Pricking her right index finger she squeezed until she got a good well of blood up then started tracing the complicated symbol onto the little pouch. She'd long since memorized the incantation because she figured this particular hexbag would be one she used the most, so the foreign words rolled off her tongue with practiced ease.

Just as she was blowing gently at the bloody symbol to help it dry, the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out dressed in his ratty sweats, hair wet and messy. His skin had only the slightest bit of color from the hot water, but Jess could tell by the slump of his shoulders standing up for even that long had taken it all out of him.

"Here," Jess jumped from her seat and hurried over, "let me help you."

"I got it," Dean huffed and put up a halfhearted attempt to shake her off. Jess ignored him.

When Dean was sprawled on the bed (the one furthest from the door, he was too out of it to even protest) Jess took his hand closest to her and slapped the hexbag in his palm forcibly wrapping his fingers around it. The moment Dean squeezed it the pained tension in his shoulders eased and his breathing came smooth and deep.

"Damn, you're getting good at these." He opened his hand and turned the bag around examining the symbol and the expertly knotted leather cord keeping it closed. "What did you put in this thing? I haven't felt one with that much kick in a long ass time."

Thankfully, he wasn't going to open it since opening it would disperse the magic and Jess had hidden their t-shirts back in their duffels. She didn't see the need to piss him off so she just said, "I cut a little off my Smurfs shirt and put it in." See, she wasn't even lying.

A sad understanding look crossed his face and he squeezed the bag again in a new appreciation. He knew about talismans and their importance. He knew just how much power she'd given to him when she put something that special in the bag.

Dean slipped the bag into his sweatpants pocket and relaxed back on the bed. "Well, thanks, Jess." He grinned at her. "Now if you don't mind I'm just gonna take a nap. When I wake up I'll get researching with you."

Jess just nodded and treated back to the table starting to put all the kitchen stuff back in their wooden box.

She did even get the chance to open the laptop before Dean was already asleep, his breathing thankfully easy and his face smooth with the absence of pain. Sitting back in her chair she took a moment to just watch him. This man had saved her, by pulling her from a fire and giving her a new life. She was going to save him or she knew she would surely die; if not physically then in her heart.

With renewed determination burning in her she wiped away the blur of tears in her eyes, turned to the laptop, and fired it up. She had work to do.

It was after midnight and Jess jerked awake. She blinked blurrily in the dark room, the only light coming from the muted tv tuned to infomercials. Dean was passed out sound asleep stretched out on his bed with the remote still in his hand. He looked exhausted, but the hexbag seemed to still be doing its job because he was breathing easy and his face wasn't creased with pain.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed harshly at her face. Grimacing when she found a tail of drool down her chin, she finally looked around herself and slumped under the stress. She'd fallen asleep on a greasy pizza box, the entire table was covered in papers and journals and books and printouts, but it had already been two days and she still hadn't found anything.

Shoving the pizza box to the floor, Jess rubbed at the crick in her neck and took stock of all the avenues she'd explored and clues she'd followed. It all amounted to a whole steamy pile of jack shit. Not a single thing had panned out.

About thirty minutes before ordering pizza Jess had felt the panic and despair making her heart pound and she'd started dipping her toe into the dark forbidden reaches of their world. She'd only been able to make it halfway through one book when Dean appeared out of nowhere and slapped an angry hand on top of it.

"You promised," was all he said. Jess clenched her jaw, but she nodded. Even if she figured out how to save Dean that way she knew he wouldn't thank her for it and she had a sneaking suspicion that in the end of it all she wouldn't ever be all herself again.

The rosary hanging out of John's journal caught her eye and she bit her lip. She figured she probably should call him and tell him his last remaining son had the sword Damocles over his head, but she just couldn't bring herself to pick up her phone and dial the number. Despite how much she was annoyed and unimpressed with John Winchester's abilities as a father she knew that he loved his boys with all his heart and that the prospect of losing Dean would just about destroy him.

It was a moot point anyway, 'cause Dean wasn't going to die. Jess was going to find a way to heal him up good as new and they were going to get back on the road and this terrifying experience will be shoved in the back of her mind along with the rest of her nightmares.

Jess shifted the laptop back in front of her with a renewed sense of determination and swiped at the touchpad to wake it up.

The screen lit up and she frowned in confusion.

On the screen was an amateur webpage for some kind of church; The Church of Roy Le Grange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle.

She must have been so out of it before passing out on the pizza box because she didn't remember searching for a faith healer. Still she'd already exhausted all the resources she had readily available.

Scrolling down, Jess skimmed through the mission statement and clicked over to the testimonials. She read them then hit play on the one video of this Reverend Le Grange's supposed miracle healing.

On the screen was a plump man with a pleasant mouth dressed all in black with a pair of dark shades over his eyes. Sitting in front of him was a frail, skin and bones man hunched over in a wheelchair hooked up to an oxygen tank. The video was shaky and it looked like they were in some kind of a tent, which didn't exactly fill Jess with confidence, but as she watched she felt like she could hardly breathe.

Le Grange reached his hands to the heavens then placed one against the sick man's head. The video fuzzed for a split second, Jess blinked and when the picture cleared again the man was slowly standing from his wheelchair and pulling the oxygen tubes from his nose. He took a deep breath and stood tall while the whole congregation clapped and cheered.

This was it, Jess thought. This was the way she was going to save Dean, the way she was going to heal his damaged heart.

Hurriedly she shut down the laptop, started shoveling the papers and books into a disordered pile and racing around the room trying to pack up their things as quickly as possible. They needed to be in Nebraska like yesterday.

Of course they didn't actually get on the road until ten the next morning. Dean woke up halfway through Jess banging around in the bathroom and demanded she get some freaking sleep, that whatever it was it could damn well wait 'til morning.

They were passing the Nebraska state line and Dean had yet to wipe the sneering dubious look off his face.

"Seriously, though," he said for the umpteenth time. "A faith healer? You know like 99 percent of those are totally bogus, right?"

"Yes, well." Jess squeezed her hands around the steering wheel failing to not sound snippy in response. "The video was pretty convincing."

"Yeah, a crappy video taken by one of the parishioners with their home camcorder," Dean scoffed. "Real grade A evidence there."

Jess felt her heart give a twist at the dismissiveness in Dean's voice. It was like he didn't even want to try. Like he couldn't care less that he was going to die. Like it didn't matter one single bit to him that he was going to be leaving her alone.

"Dean," she couldn't keep the whimper out of her voice, her hands white knuckling the steering wheel, her shoulders curling in on herself. "Please, I-" she breathed through her mouth and blinked blurry eyes. "I can't be- I can't-" she cut herself off before she could even finish the thought in her head.

Silence descended on the Impala thick and oppressive. Dean didn't say a single thing more, and Jess refused to look at him hunched over wrapped in a hoody in the passenger seat.

It stayed that way until they stopped for the night in another horrible theme motel. Despite the decidedly angry, hurt silence between them, Jess didn't hesitate to hurry around the Impala and help him shuffle into the motel room. Her hands were strong and gentle on him no matter how upset he'd made her.

They had an equally quiet dinner of pizza, quiet routine before bed, and a quiet two hours of staring into the darkness before either of them fell into uneasy sleep.

They didn't stay asleep very long, because Dean was shaken groggily awake when his covers were disturbed letting in a gust of cool air under them. Stiffly, he tried to turn over and see what was happening, but an arm was suddenly thrown over his waist and a soothingly warm body pressed up against his back.

"I don't want to be alone, Dean," Jess whispered, her breath ghosting against the back of his neck. She tightly fisted her hand in his t-shirt over his chest, like she thought he was going to slip out of bed and slip away from her.

Her body heat was soaking into him, easing tension he hadn't realized he'd had, warming up parts of him that had chilled with his newly faulty circulation. Dean blew out a heavy breath and laid his arm over hers wrapped around his chest. He gently untangled her grip on his shirt and threaded their fingers together instead. His chilled fingers warmed painfully against her skin.

"Not going anywhere, Jess," Dean whispered in the dark, pressing their entwined hands against his unreliable heart. "Promise," he said. "I won't leave you alone."

Jess's body, curved tightly around his, gave a jarring shudder and her breath hitched.

"Okay," she whispered back, the word ghosting against the skin on the back of his neck. Jess held Dean to her securely, not even an earthquake could have shaken them apart. She shifted a little getting comfortable, practically burying her face into the nonexistent space between his shoulder and the pillow.

Their breathing quickly synced together and they were both asleep in minutes.

The next morning was slow going. There was a chill in the air, sinking cold into Dean's already cold body. He was moving stiffly and Jess had to help him put on his hoody before they could shuffle out to the car.

It seemed Jess's hexbag has lost its effectiveness already. She was sure it should have lasted for a least few more days, but the magic inside it had all been soaked up and Dean was back to the way he was when he got out of the hospital. Jess's fear for him grew, because Dean must be regressing more rapidly than before, to have burned through such a powerful hexbag so quickly.

The cold hadn't gotten any better by the time they pulled into the wet muddy field where Roy Le Grange's tent church was set up. There was a surprising number of people milling around and making their sloshing way up do the tent. A two story farm house with a wraparound porch was on the opposite side of the field and Jess could only guess that was where Le Grange lived with his wife, Sue Ellen.

Parking the Impala between a minivan and an old Fiat, Jess went around and helped Dean painstakingly lift himself out of the car. He must have been feeling especially bad, because he didn't even protest when she stayed at his side, one arm supporting him around the waist taking some of his weight.

"Looks like Reverend Le Grange isn't without his naysayers."

Jess followed Dean's nod toward the lone protester shouting about fraud and trying, and failing, to pass out pamphlets.

"We're still doing this, Dean," Jess insisted grimly, determined.

Dean sighed, shook his head. "I know, Jess. I'm going along, aren't I? I'll try and keep my skepticism of his so called miracles to myself. But c'mon, the guy works out of tent!"

"Don't disparage a place of worship," she scolded patronizingly, but then she huffed and conceded. "But fine, be a pessimist. I'll just have to have enough faith for the both of us."

A small fond smile pulled at his bloodless lips, his tired eyes mirrored the feeling even as they rolled at her. "Still with the optimism. We'll squash it out of you yet."

Dean squeezed Jess's waist where he'd been holding onto her, too. Unamused she may or may not have pinched him hard in the side.

"You're blessed, you know," said a young woman standing a few feet away just in hearing range of their bickering. "To have someone that loves you enough to spend so much of their faith for you."

Dean and Jess looked to the voice and studied the woman. She was pretty with blond hair, kind eyes and a kind smile. Jess didn't feel any kind of hostility toward her which a little bit of a surprise. She'd been getting more and more protective of Dean and since his heart was sneaky sneeze away from giving up. Her neck was getting tired with her head being constantly on swivel scanning for threats.

While Jess deemed the woman nonthreatening, Dean deemed her a pretty girl and his return smile reflected that.

"Maybe the faith of two beautiful ladies will do the trick." Jess looked at his leer in horror, but the other woman just raised an eyebrow and smiled amused.

Dean gave a surprised yelp because Jess pinched him again, hard enough to bruise.

"Ow! Be careful, I'm delicate!" Dean rubbed his side, scowling at Jess.

"Obviously not that delicate if you're cable of being that sleazy. I am so sorry," Jess apologized to the young woman earnestly. "He's had a bit of shock recently. He's usually better behaved than this."

"Hey!" Dean protested indignantly.

"Shut up, Dean, or I'm gonna let you drop in the mud right here." It was bald faced lie. There was no way Jess was letting go of him, and they all knew it. They were nice enough not to call her on it, though.

The young woman gave a small chuckle at their antics. "It's alright. I didn't take offense."

"Well, you're nicer than I am. I'd have punched him in the nose already."

Dean chose to ignore that and turned his attention back on the other woman. "Anyway, I'm Dean and this is Jess."

"Layla," the young woman, Layla, responded. Her eyes were still smiling so Dean and Jess figured she really wasn't too scandalized by them.

"Nice to meet you, Layla," Jess said sincerely.

Layla opened his mouth to say something, but a severe older woman popped up out of nowhere and dragged her into the tent.

With nothing else to distract either of them from what would be the success or failure of their last hope, Dean and Jess shuffled into the tent. They commandeered aisle seats in a middle row and waited with fidgeting anticipation and beleaguered boredom.

The preacher was blind. That was apparent the moment he came out on stage with his dark sunglasses and the off kilter way he directed his attention toward his parishioners. Other than that there was really nothing special about it. Jess was swallowing around disappointment and Dean was stamping down on his urge to gloat for her sake.

Of course just as all hope was to turn to despair, Le Grange pinned his unseeing gaze right on Dean with unsettling accuracy.

"Why don't you come up here, son. The Lord is calling your name, guiding me to heal you."

For a long moment there was dead silence in the tent. Jess's ears rushed and her face paled so fast she felt light headed. This was it. She gasped and almost in a trance grabbed Dean's arm in a white knuckled grip to tow him to his feet.

Dean put up a fight and held his ground keeping her in her seat as well.

"Uh, no, it's okay. Pick someone else." He was grimacing and looking around at the expectant eyes all pinned on him. Jess felt a sinking in her gut, half betrayal and half anger.

"The Lord has chosen you, son. He wants me to heal you."

Dean opened his mouth again to protest and Jess wasn't the least bit embarrassed to beg.

"Please, Dean," she whispered, meeting his skeptical, reluctant gaze pleadingly. "Please."

A range of emotions swept over his face. Too many for Jess to read, but he looking into her eyes so deep she was sure he could see into her desperate soul screaming out, Please don't leave me. Please stay. Please.

Dean blew out a struggling breath and nodded in defeat. "Alright."

He was on the stage, on display for seventy people. The only thing keeping him there was Jess standing ten feet away trembling with hope and watching him like any moment he was going to blow away like dust in the wind.

Later he wouldn't remember much of the moment before he ended up on the floor, but what he would remember was cold. A chill down to his bones. Wrong. It felt wrong. It was unnatural what was happening to him. The two shadowy blurry figures standing over him, one craggy with age in a suit and one tall and shaggy and almost familiar, as it was happening didn't do anything to make it better.

The deep heady gasp of fresh air and the healthy pounding of his heart in chest didn't wash away his unease. No it was Jess's warm shaking hands cradling his face as she called his name anxiously.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay? Dean, are you alright?"

Her voice was a balm to his shocky nerves and her skin against cheeks was grounding. He realized he'd somehow ended up on the floor as his vision cleared and he looked up at her. Her brows were furrowed in worry, her pony tail had loosened wispy blond locks curling by her blue eyes, and her face was pale and drawn with stress.

She was the most beautiful thing he's seen in he didn't know how long and she swept away everything but his relief. He wouldn't have to leave her after all.

"Yeah," Dean rasped, reaching up and pulling Jess to his chest wrapping his arms around her with almost bruising force. "I'm okay. I'm alright, sweetheart. Everything's alright now."

A laugh like a sob burst out of her, tears streaming down her cheeks but she just held onto him tight enough to make his ribs ache. Clawing at his back trying to get closer, as close as she could, Jess was sure she was going to leave scratches even through his shirt, but she didn't care. The feeling of being surrounded by him feeling his strong chest rising and falling against her, his heart pounding against hers like a heavy drum was indescribable.

Dean cradled the back of head when she buried her face into his shoulder. He just pressed his face into her temple taking deep steadying breaths against her hair inhaling a lungful of her scent with every intake.

Neither of them cared that they were on display for fifty some-odd people. Jess reveled in the feel of Dean whole and healthy against her. Dean pushed aside his alarming hunter's instinct for the moment. He was just going to hold Jess for a minute. He wanted to hold her and not let go for the longest minute ever.

It was a long while of relief and reassurance before they got around to the hunt and neither one of them regretted it at all.

An evil woman was taken in payment for her sins. A good man was ruined. And there was nothing satisfying about the end of this hunt.

Still. Jess couldn't bring herself to regret anything. Dean wasn't going anywhere and a supernatural threat was neutralized. They may have lost civilians, but Jess wouldn't take it back. Maybe that made her a bad person.

She watched Dean grumbling around their motel room tossing his clothes haphazardly into his duffle. His breathing was deep and his heartbeat steady. His skin was golden and his eyes were clear bright green.

Maybe that made her a bad person, but she didn't really care.

Dean let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders were tense.

Jess furrowed her brows. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He ran a hand over his hair then shrugged. "Just thinking about Layla. I just wish we could do something for her."

Layla. Maybe the one regret Jess had about this whole thing. If anyone deserved to live it was Layla.

Biting her lip, Jess said, "We can help her."

"How?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Jess smiled hesitantly and shrugged. "I may or may not have fixed up a really strong healing hexbag and called her to come over 'cause you wanted to say goodbye."

"Jess!"

"What?" Jess looked at him with big unconvincingly innocent eyes. "You wanted to help her."

Dean huffed. "Well, yeah, but-"

There was a knock on the door interrupting his protest and Jess jumped up with a grin. "Oh, there she is! Here. Give this to her. Everything will be fine."

She shoved a hex bag wrapped in white cloth dotted with blue flowers and tied with a blue satin ribbon. There weren't any symbols on the outside so Dean assumed Jess had painted them on the inside. It was cute. The powerful magic hexbag was cute and that was just weird.

Before he could even voice his incredulity, Jess had already thrown the door open to reveal Layla standing outside.

"Layla! Hey. We're glad you came."

Layla gave Jess a small smile. "You said you were leaving and I did want to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we really have to get on the road. So I'm glad we could see you before we left." Jess took a step to the side and ushered her inside. "I have to go finish some paperwork at the front office so I'll leave you two to it."

Then she was gone and Dean was left standing awkwardly in front of the woman he'd stolen a chance at life from.

"Uh, hey, Layla." He cringed.

She just gave him a kind smile. "Hey, Dean. You know, you are very lucky to have Jess in your life."

Just like that Dean relaxed with a smile of his own. "I know. I wouldn't be here if she wasn't with me."

"You've mentioned before that you aren't together, but neither of you ever mentioned how ya'll met," she inquired taking the offered seat at the kitchenette table.

Dean sat down beside her and thought about how to answer. He decided to go with the truth. "She was my little brother's girlfriend. He died in a fire at their apartment building. I'd dropped him off after a weekend trip and was driving away when I saw the smoke. I turned back and ran inside to help." He paused as the memories rose and fell in his mind's eye. Layla reached across the table and placed a hand on his in comfort.

He gave her a wan smile. "I was able to pull Jess out, but Sam was already gone." Layla's brow furrowed in sympathy and she squeezed his hand. He continued, "I stuck around while Jess was in the hospital and then for the funeral. We were the only ones that really understood. Felt like we really only had each other. We stuck together through it all." Dean paused remembering feeling like Jess was the only solid, important thing left in the world. "Then when I finally had to leave she came with me."

"That's beautiful," Layla responded quietly.

Dean didn't really have to ask her what she meant. By the soft, gentle look in her eyes, he thought he knew.

He shifted in his seat and felt the hex bag in his pocket and remembered exactly why Jess had conned them both into being here.

"Layla, I'm so sorry." Dean met her gaze knowing all his regret and sadness was reflected in his eyes. "I can't really tell you why, but letting Le Grange heal anyone else would have been really bad. And I know you ha-"

"Stop, Dean." Layla held up a hand to halt him, but no anger or resentment showed on her face. "I don't understand why you did it, but I believe," she lowered her hand and gave him a sad smile, "I believe that you believed you were doing what was right. I can't hate you for that."

Blowing out a breath, Dean shook his head. "It should have been you he healed, not me."

"Now that," she returned wryly, "I don't believe. If you weren't healed, what would happen to Jessica?"

She'd be alone, his mind said and that familiar feeling of dread welled up inside him. If Dean had died of that heart attack Jess would have been left all alone.

Layla must have seen his thoughts on his face because she regarded him kindly. "Everything happens for a reason, Dean. God has a plan for everyone and I think he still has a plan for you. I've accepted that being healed just wasn't part his plan for me."

"How can you accept that?" Dean demanded, incredulous at her apparent serene acceptance of her fate. "How can you believe that you're just supposed to die? That it's completely out of your control?"

"Because I have faith, Dean," Layla replied calmly in the face of his outrage. "I have faith that everything will work out as it's supposed to."

"I can't accept that," Dean shook his head angrily.

Layla reached out and squeezed his hand comfortingly again.

They were quiet for a long moment, until Dean's anger simmered out and only sadness was left. "You said you only have a few more months. What are you going to do?"

A wide smile curved at Layla's lips. "I'm going to live my life and make it the fullest life I possibly can."

Almost against his will Dean smiled in return unable to stay negative in the face of her optimism. "I hope you do, Layla. I hope you have a good life."

Her expression was bright and happy and lit up the room.

"I hope you have a good life, too, Dean," she returned simply then stood up prepared to leave.

He stood with her and felt the hex bag press against his thigh again. "Wait!" Layla paused with her hand on the door handle and looked back at him.

Dean stepped toward her and pulled the Martha Stewart hexbag from his pocket and held it out to her.

"Here," he said as she looked at it curiously, not yet taking it from his grasp. "Jess made this for you. It's-" he pause and bit his lip, "it's a good luck charm," he settled on not sure how she would take it if he revealed it was a kind of witchcraft. "It's supposed to, you know, bring good fortune and good health." Dean grimaced at that last one.

Layla studied the innocuous little bag sitting in his palm with its homey fabric wrapping and pretty satin bow. She raised her eyes to Dean's and studied him for a long moment. Whatever she saw must have eased any hesitation because she reached out smoothly and took it from his hand.

The moment her skin brushed the bag a cool breeze swept over her and took the constant agonizing throb at the base of her skull with it. She gasped, reflexively squeezing the bag tightly in her grasp.

Dean knew it had down something to ease Layla's suffering because the lines of stress around her eyes and the wrinkle between her brows smoothed out almost immediately.

"Keep that with you," Dean told her with warmth in his chest as he watched her back straightened, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, "to remember us by."

"I will," Layla promised clutching the bag to her chest reluctant to let go even for a second.

Dean silently blew out a heavy breath as she finally opened the door and stepped over the thresh hold. "Goodbye, Layla."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Dean." She paused again for just a moment more. "When we met you said you don't believe in miracles," Layla met Dean's gaze with a knowing glint in her eyes. "But you and Jess, you're miracles yourselves."

When Jess got back to the room Layla was gone and Dean was sitting on his bed staring at his hands lost in thought. She bit her lip worried something had happened.

"Dean?"

He turned his clear healthy green gaze on her and stood moving toward her in long strides. Jess's eyes widened in confusion, but she didn't step back. In fact she stepped forward when he stopped right in front of her Dean wrapped a warm palm around the back of her neck and pulled gently touching their foreheads together.

They looked into each other's eyes and breathed the same air for long moments. They felt comfort and security having each other so close in their space. It melted away the last of the desperate fear still churning in Jess and the hopeless resignation in Dean. They were both alive and safe and together and nothing, nothing, was going to tear them apart.

Jess's eyelids grew heavy and she tilted her head up just so, the tips of their noses touching. Dean's lips quirked and he huffed in amusement.

"Come on." He gave the back of her neck one last squeezed before releasing her and moving away. "Let's get packed and on the road. Daylight's wasting."

Jess stood there, completely still for a second more. Her heart was beating hard but it felt lighter as the reality that Dean's going to live finally sank in.

She grinned and moved to her own bag haphazardly tossing things inside distracted by the happiness suddenly over flowing inside her. Their nightmare was over and there was only bright sunlight before them. Everything, Jess thought giddy as Dean rolled his eyes at her, was going to be just fine.

Layla lived a year longer than the doctors said she would. She lived it pain free and to the absolute fullest she possibly could. When she finally closed her eyes for the last time, she did it with no regrets.

And her last prayer, like every one before that, was to God thanking him for bringing Dean and Jess into her life.

TBC...