b Title: /b When Making Deals with the Devil(You Can't Trust Anything They Say)

b Summary: /b What if there was another motive behind Jessica Moore's death? What if she wasn't who she seemed? After all, this wasn't the first time Sam Winchester had made the mistake of turning his back.

b Rating: /b PG-13...ish

b Warning: /b Character death(s), mild swearing and gore.

A/N: This is a stupid, ficlet-sized blurb I wrote. I liked Jess.

"I want to make a deal."

Her voice trembled slightly as the words slipped past her lips and echoed into the basement of Stanford's library, oddly muted in her head by the pounding there.

It was only mildly disturbing to see her Humanities teacher circling her like a vulture, eyes glaring yellow in the darkness and shadows. She gripped the bloody knife in her uncut hand tighter as she heard the man stop behind her and suddenly her skin tingled as the man pushed the hair away from her neck. The flesh grew cold as he pressed his lips to the spot where her shoulder met her neck, right where Sam would always kiss when they'd made some sort of twisted love together. Sam would push into her wetness and, somehow, his lips would always latch onto the same spot on her neck.

It was an everlasting hickey and an annoyance to cover up on a daily basis.

"Don't you like that, Jessica?"

"I'm here to make a deal, not be subjected to my teacher's pedophilic nature."

Oh yeah. And her Humanities teacher was a pedophile. She'd discovered i that /i bit of information by accident, when she suspected he was involved in something supernatural. The man wasn't involved in any way, but boy did he have a criminal record! Five years in juvie for boosting cars, shoplifting, speeding-slash-driving without a license and vandalism plus twelve years in prison for an "incident" with his neighbor's fifteen year old daughter in Minnesota.

Sick fuck.

"You're disgusting." she snapped.

"And you're desperate." he countered and she spun on her heel. Had the knife against his throat before he could blink.

He smirked. Bastard.

"Give me one reason not to kill you right now." she hissed, grip tightening on the handle, blood dripping on the floor at her feet.

"Well..." he taunted, dragging the word out longer than it should have been. "...how about twenty five to life?"

Slowly, she move the knife from the man's neck, flicking her wrist just a bit right before it was out of reach. Not enough to kill, but just enough to draw blood.

Sam had taught her well.

His hand flew to his neck, clutching momentarily before pulling back and looking at the blood on the hand. He grinned and glanced back up at her unwaveringly, yellow meeting blue in the darkness.

"You're either a very brave little girl..." he began and she stood a bit straighter, shoulders back. "..or a very stupid one."

"I didn't call you here to mock me."

"Alas, no! You came to offer me the deal of your soul for his."

A shiver ran down Jess' spine when he told her exactly what she'd done and why, all in one sentence.

"Here's my terms: I want Sam alive. Make him forget the past two years and fill it in with some sort of "domestic bliss" crap."

"I don't know. That's an awful lot to ask for one soul."

Jess' hand automatically flew to her stomach. The one where her and Sam's unborn child lay in wait to enter this world. Did she really want her child-their child-to be born into this world? A world without a father, where things that went bump in the night were real and pain was only a driving force into more pain?

Sam had told her what it was like to grow up without his mother.

"Time's a-wasting, Jessica, and Sam's corpse gets colder by the minute."

"Fine." she choked out, making a split-second decision for the better good. "But, I want one year with him. Then, you can come and collect me."

"You know you won't be able to run."

"Consider my child's soul as down payment. One soul now, one later. Two total."

"You drive a hard bargain, Jessie..."

She took a breath. A shaky breath.

"...but you've got yourself a deal." the demon said, raising a hand to grant her request.

"Wait!" she cried and his hand froze. "Just so we're clear-"

"Prince Samuel was rescued by the brave Princess Jessica and they lived happily ever after in domestic bliss for one. Full. Year. And then Princess Jessica died. The end." the demon drawled and she let the blade fall from her hand as he flicked his wrist.

There was an almost unbearable pain in her abdomen and a tugging behind her navel and the pounding in her skull grew until she was sure her head would explode and her heart would burst as two years of emotions that never happened ripped themselves from her chest.

A flash.

Dark red wine splashed across the floor like blood as she gripped the glass so hard that it shattered in her hand.

"Jess? Babe? What-" Sam's questions stopped short as he took in the scene in the kitchen.

And about the same time that the situation hit him, another situation entirely hit her.

"Jess, your hand!"

She blinked and looked down at her hand, red wine mixing with the blood on the gash across her palm...

Sam hurried across the room, led her to the sink, disappeared, reappeared, tended to her palm and then she was sitting on the couch.

Really, it was all a big, indistinguishable, blob-like blur of time spanning a half an hour.

"What happened in there?"

"What?"

"What happened in the kitchen? How did the glass break like that?"

"I must have squeezed too hard is all."

Sam, again, had taught her well.

"Try to be more careful, then, okay?"

"I love you."

"Wh-I love you, too." he replied, looking at her questioningly. "Jess, what's up with you lately?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say it."

"So everything's all right?" he asked, concern rippling in his beautiful eyes as he reached out and stroked her hair.

Jess was at a loss for words. Should she reveal her secret? Tell him about the two years that never were? Would that break her deal? Or would it be harmle-

"Jess?"

She broke out of her trance. She looked into his eyes. She saw his concern.

And instead she smiled.

"It is now."