Jessica Moore had been a lot of things. She had been a lady in the court of King Louis XVI before the Revolution; she had walked through London's Whitechapel district alongside Jack the Ripper, she had even tended to injured soldiers returning from Vietnam but there was one thing that Jessica Moore had never been and never would be. She was not kind.

Jessica decided that she would go to college. She wasn't interested in receiving a higher education; she had lived long enough to have acquired a wealth of knowledge. No, Jessica knew that colleges attracted horny Frat boys and that was exactly the kind of prey she wanted.

Jessica knew how essential it was to blend in with her surroundings, keep hunters unaware of her presence and what better place to become just another face in the crowd than at a college campus? It offered a wide range of choices to feast upon and with her youthful features; she would look as though she belonged there.

As long as she was careful, she would be in no danger. And Jessica was always careful; that was the secret to success. She never took more than she needed, and she never killed unnecessarily. She smirked when she thought of the others like her who, with their wanton actions, met early deaths. Unlike the others, Jessica had adapted to the changing world and used it to her advantage.

Jessica first met Sam Winchester in a second year Anthropology class. She didn't think much of him; he wasn't her type- if she could be said to have a type- and for the most part ignored him.

Sam Winchester first spoke to Jessica on a cloudy, miserable day late in the semester. He saw that she had a notebook open on her desk but she didn't have a pen. He sat down beside her and offered one of his to use.

Jessica had been shocked that anyone had noticed, let alone cared that she wasn't writing anything. Although she always brought the notebook to class she never wrote in it; she was more interested in the students than the professor's lecture. Jessica smiled prissily and told Sam to keep his pen, that she didn't need it. Shrugging, the young man returned his attention to the professor and took his own notes.

Sam Winchester didn't speak to her again for a few days and Jessica couldn't help but be relieved. She didn't need distractions when she should be focusing on her next feed.

She was careful- always careful- whenever she slept with a human. She never took more than she needed and the young man would just feel like he had a hangover the next morning. It was a win-win situation for everyone involved.

When Sam Winchester did talk to Jessica again, he asked her what she thought of the mid-term exam.

Jessica, with a wry, slightly irritated smile on her face, told the young man she thought it was fine, a very vague response but it quickly shut him up.

Sam Winchester didn't approach her again until after the Christmas break. Jessica was walking across campus early one morning- after spending the night with one of the boys from Nu Upsilon Eta- when the young man walked right into her, spilling his coffee on her jacket.

Jessica shrieked, "You clumsy-"

But the young man wasn't listening; he was stammering apologetically, his face red with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," Sam said hastily, "I'll pay for your dry-cleaning or whatever…"

Jessica brushed her hair off her shoulders. After having such a good night she was in a forgiving mood, "That's alright, I was a little cold anyway."

Sam gave her a self-conscious smile and Jessica actually chuckled. She had to admit, he was kind of cute.

Jessica glanced down flirtatiously, "Can I buy you another cup of coffee?"

Sam shook his head, "You don't have to do that. I ran into you. It was my fault."

"I want to," she told him and Sam agreed.

Side by side the boy and the monster walked across the campus, one carefree and one conniving.


Jessica realized that she really liked Sam Winchester. It was strange because she had never had any friends before but now she supposed she would consider Sam a friend. Or at least her constant companion.

The young man made her laugh and seemed to genuinely care for her. Jessica didn't tell him though, that she could take care of herself and acted the part of the fragile human female perfectly.

Jessica kept her true nature from Sam. It wasn't all that difficult a feat either; she spent her days with the young man and her nights indulging in her carnal appetite.

Sam loved Jess. He had always had a difficult time speaking to other people, especially girls but Jessica was different.

She made him laugh and he knew she cared about him.

Sam kept his past hidden from Jessica. He didn't speak about his family- his brother or father- or what they did. If he did, Jess would think he was crazy.

Sam was content to act like the average college kid, spending his days with Jess and bidding her a somewhat sad goodnight whenever night approached.


Asking Jessica if she wanted to move in with him had been the biggest mistake Sam could make.

It had been nearly a year since that fateful day in early January when Sam's clumsiness had struck again and more of his coffee had ended up on the coat of the pretty blonde than in his stomach.

At first Sam thought Jess was going to say no but then she smiled and said of course she would. Sam couldn't have been happier. He always thought it was strange that Jessica never stayed the night at his place- an apartment just off campus- or asked him over to hers but decided that it was inconvenient to live separately.


Jessica should have known he'd ask eventually. She didn't know why she was so surprised. She told herself that it didn't mean anything. She could still control herself.

Why? Jessica thought, why should I spare him? Why do I care about him?

"Because I don't," She whispered out loud as she rode the elevator up to Sam Winchester's apartment.

Jessica's heart hardened and she smiled to herself. She was stupid to get attached to the human. It was a mistake that she wouldn't repeat. She had allowed herself to be clouded by the young man's charm and that just wouldn't do. She was the seducer and soon Sam Winchester would learn exactly what she really was.


Jessica sat down on the bed beside Sam and brushed his bangs away from his feverish brow. He flinched at her touch and Jessica chuckled a little.

"You should have taken the hint when we first met," she chastised, "And left me alone."

Sam stared at Jessica with frightened eyes and whimpered, the sound muffled by the gag shoved into his mouth.


Sam opened his eyes slowly. He felt terrible; he had a pounding headache, greasy sweat coated his skin and his mouth was as dry as cotton.

He smiled though, at the sight of a familiar face: Jess. She sat down on the bed beside him and ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"Wha' happn'd?" Sam asked, his throat felt raw and he could barely get the words out.

Jessica peered down at the young man, concern etched into her features, "You've been very sick. I think it's that flu bug that's been going around."

Sam laid his head back onto the pillow. He was exhausted and just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Stay awake, Sam," Jess' voice caused him to open his eyes again and he saw his girlfriend had a small white bowl and a spoon in her hands.

"You need to eat something," she told him in a no-nonsense tone and Sam struggled to sit up.

Jess made no move to help, but simply watched as the young man took a long moment to pull himself into a sitting position, slumped over slightly. Sam apparently didn't notice that Jess had not offered assistance and turned to look at her.

Jessica dipped the spoon into the bowl she held and scooped up a small amount of the pale yellow food.

Sam would have liked to feed himself. He was sure he'd be able to do it himself, but his throat was too sore to get any more words out.

The applesauce was good and cool on Sam's parched tongue and he eagerly gobbled it down as fast as Jess could get the spoon to his mouth.

"Thanks," Sam said once he was finished, his eyelids drooping sleepily. Jess smiled and stood so he could lie back down. How had he ended up with such a great girl?

The blonde made to leave the room but Sam reached out and touched her hip.

Sam's words died in his throat when he caught sight of his arm. His wrist was raw and slightly swollen. Frowning, Sam tried to figure out why his wrist should look like that.

"Jess?" he asked, fear in his voice and looked up at his girlfriend questioningly.

"It's just a rash," she answered casually, "Probably from the fever."

Jess set the bowl and spoon down on the bedside table and leaned over Sam, brushing his hair back from his brow and kissing his temple.

The young man's eyes rolled up into his head and he went limp. Jessica sighed and brought Sam's arm back under the blankets.

She would have to be more careful.


Dean couldn't find his Dad. John had gone on a hunt in Jericho, California a week ago and he still hadn't returned.

Now normally Dean wasn't one to worry if his father ran a little late but the hunt was meant to be a routine ghostly salt n' burn. John Winchester had taken out so many restless spirits he could do it with his eyes closed and with both hands tied behind his back.

The only reason Dean hadn't tagged along with his father was that he needed to finish up their current case, mostly making sure there were no loose ends that would come back to bite them in the ass.

But John wasn't back yet like he should have been, hell he should have been back days ago and he wasn't answering his phone either.


Dean didn't know exactly what made him do it. Maybe it was because his father had never disappeared like this before or maybe it was that hanging out in a crappy, hole-in-the-wall motel room by himself had made Dean a little bit lonely.

Whatever the reason, and Dean didn't dwell too much on the why, he decided to go to Stanford University.

He found himself looking forward to seeing his brother again. Dean hadn't seen Sam in nearly three years and- although he would never actually admit it- he missed him.

Without Sam around, Dean and John rarely talked about anything other than hunting. Although Dean loved the job, loved saving people and all that, he missed his baby brother's ability to remind John (to remind both of them) that there was a world outside of the realm of the supernatural.


Jessica watched Sam as he slept. She smiled greedily as her eyes took in the high cheekbones, long, narrow nose, wide brow, dark hair and muscular frame hidden beneath the sheets.

How could she have ever doubted him?

Sure, he was shy and self-conscious and clumsy and easily embarrassed but that was nothing. Underneath all those crippling personality defects was a handsome, strong young man. Exactly what Jessica wanted.

Of course she could have any man- and she would take what was available if she was in a pinch- but she preferred the attractive ones.

But it wasn't only Sam Winchester's physical appearance that had so intrigued Jessica; no, it was the fact that he was familiar to her.

Never before had any human befriended her so innocently and wholeheartedly. Her encounters with men were strictly quick and forgettable. Her relationship with Sam Winchester was going to be one she'd remember for ages.

But Jessica was always careful and even now she was careful not to slip.

With a kiss she could take what she wanted and with a touch she could make Sam forget. But that still wasn't enough. She still had to keep up the appearance of college Junior and left the young man alone in the apartment.

A pair of socks served well as a gag and nylon rope purchased at a nearby hardware store worked perfectly as shackles.

Although she rarely killed, Jessica did sometimes make exceptions to the rules. She did not worry that any death she caused would raise suspicion. After she was done with a man- if it went so far as to result in death- a heart attack or aneurism could be easily explained away. Even though Sam was young and healthy, a heart defect or weak veins were not uncommon causes of sudden death.

As though he knew she was thinking about him, Sam opened his eyes and turned his head, staring at Jessica with fearful eyes.

Jessica smiled and stepped forward. Sam watched her, his muscles tense in anticipation. Jessica chuckled lowly, "I don't think we have time for that right now, hun. Maybe later."

Tears welled up in the young man's eyes, "Please don't hurt me."

Sam's voice came out as a rasp- barely audible- but Jessica was always careful so she picked up the balled-up socks from where they sat on the bedside table and shoved them into Sam's mouth.

"I'll be back soon," she promised and blew Sam a kiss as she turned around and walked out of the apartment.


The drive to Palo Alto didn't take long and Dean was soon driving past the peach and ochre-colored academic centers of Stanford.

Dean knew he could always call his brother and get his address but he wanted to surprise Sam.

Dean parked the Impala and stepped outside into the brilliant California sunlight. He smiled as a small group of giggling Freshmen girls walked past him, eyeing him appreciatively.

"Hey," Dean said. Not his smoothest but he needed to find his brother more than he needed to flirt with eighteen-year olds.

The girls burst out laughing and walked away.

Shrugging, Dean took off towards a cluster of peach and dark red terra cotta buildings that looked like lecture halls.

Luckily Dean only had to wait fifteen minutes for the class to exit the building and he walked boldly up to a group of guys all chatting away about some exam they'd just finished.

"Hi," Dean called and the students stopped, "I'm looking for my brother, he's a student here. Name's Sam Winchester. Do you know him?"

One of the boys nodded, "Yeah, I know Sam. I have a Crime and Criminal Justice class with him."

"Can you tell me where he lives?" Dean asked. He wondered if the kid would tell him to just fuck off; just because Dean claimed to be Sam's brother didn't really mean he was.

Dean shouldn't have worried though, these were college kids, and the younger man told him the address of Sam's apartment. He told Dean that Sam had moved there recently, opting for a larger place and since he hadn't visited Sam there yet, he didn't know the room number.

Dean was sure he'd be able to find his brother quickly enough; he was a hunter after all.

"Oh, when you see him, tell Sam to get his ass back in gear 'cause Rothbell's ready to kick him out of the class," the boy told Dean and the hunter frowned.

"He's missing class?" Dean asked. Sam never, ever missed a school day. He could be on his deathbed and still insist on going in. When they were younger, Dean had to force Sam to stay home when he was clearly too sick to go to school.

"Yeah, for like… three weeks," the guy answered, "His girlfriend said he's been feeling under the weather but this is kind of nuts. You think he'd come in with a doctor's note or something by now."

Dean nodded. Sam had missed three weeks of school. Something was not right.

Dean was so concerned over Sam's wellbeing that he didn't even realize that the kid had just told him his baby brother had a girlfriend.

"Thanks," Dean muttered and nearly ran back to where he'd parked the Impala.

Sam was sick. He could be in trouble. He wouldn't miss so much school without a good reason.

Peeling out of the parking lot, Dean went over his brother's address again and again in his head. He'd passed the street Sam lived on while heading to the school so Dean guessed he was mere minutes away.

Dean knew that he could be overreacting; he knew that Sam could just have a bad flu- ever since his brother had been young he had been prone to getting really sick- and he really was just trying to sleep it off.

But for three weeks? No, Dean knew something was seriously wrong. And he wasn't going to wait around to find out what.


Dean parked haphazardly in front of the apartment building where Sam lived. The apartment was redbrick and unassuming. To Dean it wasn't anything special. Not that he expected his brother to be living like a king just because he was going to university.

Dean exited the Impala and stepped into the lobby of the building. He glanced at the list of residents posted on the wall beside their call buttons but didn't see his brother's name.

Didn't matter. Dean was a hunter and he would find Sam.

He tried to open the glass door leading to the foyer but it wouldn't unlock for him. Right, he had to be buzzed in.

While Dean was trying to figure out if he could somehow pick the lock, the door was opened from the inside and a pretty blonde stepped into the space between the two sets of doors with him.

The girl smiled and held the door open for Dean.

"Thanks," Dean said gratefully and slipped inside.

Glancing to either side, Dean decided to take the elevator up and see where it led him, if he couldn't find Sam's place right away, hopefully he'd see another tenant and ask them.

The elevator was small and old but serviceable and clean. The sides were covered in faux-gold (probably brass) that was polished so that it showed Dean a distorted reflection of himself and the floor was carpeted in red and gold; to make it look fancy, Dean guessed.

The elevator dinged and Dean stepped out. The same gold and red carpeting ran down the hall and the walls were painted a pale yellow.

Dean bit his cheek to keep from shouting out his brother's name. If Sam really was just sick, Dean doubted he'd appreciate having his older brother crying out his name in panic for no reason. But, if something was wrong- if Dean's feelings were right- then he needed to find his brother and he needed to find him. Now.

Dean turned to the closest door and pounded on it.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered under his breath, "Open up."

Dean tried to compose himself as the door slid open an inch- he could see the chain lock still engaged- and a young woman peered out at him.

"Sorry to bother you," Dean apologized, trying to look as harmless as possible, "I'm looking for my brother and I don't know which apartment he's in. His name is Sam Winchester."

The young woman appeared to be a few years older than Dean's brother and the hunter saw a small hand wrap around the woman's leg.

"Mommy," a little girl's voice spoke up and Dean returned his gaze to the woman's face.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "We just moved here."

"Oh, okay," Dean's shoulders slumped slightly, "Sorry to bother you."

The woman closed her door and Dean turned away. He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and wondered just what he was doing.

He walked down the hallway, hoping his brother would pop out of one of the apartments.

Dean shoved his hand in the pocket of his jacket and paused. His cell phone. He could call Sam!

Dean took his phone out and scrolled down his Contact List until he saw his brother's number. Even if Sam was sick, he should be able to hear his phone and answer it.

Then again, it could be turned off or on silent or vibrate and Dean's call would go unnoticed.

But Dean wasn't going to think about that. He was going to call his brother and Sam was going to pick up.

Sam's phone went straight to voicemail and Dean cursed.

"Shit," he put his own phone back in the pocket of his jacket and stalked down the hall to the elevator.

"Where are you, Sammy?" Dean muttered and jabbed the button for the elevator.

Dean wasn't giving up on his brother but he needed time to figure out what he was going to do. He couldn't just go knocking on every door in the place, hoping Sam would answer.

The elevator door opened but Dean didn't step inside. If Sam was well enough to move than his idea would work.

It wasn't one of Dean's better plans, it wasn't really very complicated but he didn't have time to come up with a grand scheme.

Turning around and walking down the stairs, Dean found what he was looking for in the foyer. A fire alarm.

Keeping close to the wall, Dean knew he'd have to move quickly so he could find his brother and get him out- if he had to- before the authorities arrived.

From Dean's vantage point he'd be able to see everyone as they made their way outside, allowing him to decide if Sam was in trouble or not.

Reaching up, Dean prayed that his idea would work, and pulled the fire alarm. The blaring siren didn't even make Dean jump as he waited for the mass exodus.

Dean didn't have to wait long, within minutes of the alarm's shrill warning, men and women appeared in the foyer, hurrying towards the exit.

Dean kept his eyes peeled for any sign of his tall, shaggy-haired brother but as the last of the residents filtered out onto the street, he was disappointed.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore in a whisper and took the stairs three at a time, knowing that the elevator wouldn't work now.

"Sam! Sammy! You in here?!" Dean didn't know if his brother would answer- could answer- but he still had to try.

This is insane, Dean thought, what the hell am I doing?

Dean hurried down the same hallway where he'd paused to speak to the young woman with the little girl, calling his brother's name all the while.

Dean stopped when he heard the wail of sirens in the distance and swore. He had to get out of here soon; with or without his brother.

Reluctantly, the eldest Winchester found the emergency exit that led out to the back parking lot of the apartment building and vaulted over the chain-link fence, making his way inconspicuously to the Impala.

He checked into a motel close to the apartment and tried to work out a Plan B.

Dean paced around the small room, trying to figure out how to get to his brother.

His girlfriend said he's been feeling under the weather…

"I'll be damned," Dean muttered and almost smiled- would have smiled if he wasn't so worried about his brother- at the idea of Sam finally getting a girl.


By the time Jessica returned to the apartment, the firefighters had left and the manager was given a warning to keep a better eye on the fire alarms- teenagers were known to pull them for shits and giggles- and everything was returning to normal.

The hallways were quiet as Jessica made her way to the apartment she shared with Sam, their neighbours all inside having dinner.

Jessica carried a book bag over her shoulder. She had gone to class- she had to keep up the façade of college student- and told Sam's friends that he was still not well enough to have visitors, much less come to lecture.

Stomach flu, Jessica said, very bad, very contagious. Sam's friends nodded in sympathy before the conversation turned to other topics.

She unlocked the door to the apartment and smiled. The dwelling was dark- it was evening now- and Jessica hadn't bothered to keep any lights on.

Turning them on now as she walked deeper into the apartment, Jessica smiled when she reached the bedroom and Sam flinched at the sudden brightness.

"Miss me?" she asked sweetly and dropped the book bag on the floor just inside the room.

Sam turned his head to look at her, his eyes red-rimmed and his face as pale as a sheet.

"I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long like that," Jess said as she stepped forward, "You're friends say 'hi' though."

Jess paused for a moment and brushed Sam's sweaty bangs back from his forehead, "Oh! Look at me just chattering away! I'm sorry! You're probably thirsty."

Jess left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the kitchenette, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. Returning to Sam's side, she sat down next to him on the bed and pulled the gag out of his mouth.

Sam moaned in discomfort and closed his eyes.

"Oh, so you're going back to sleep now?" Jess asked and grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair, pulling his head up.

"Not much of a welcome home," she continued when Sam's eyes flew open and he let out a hoarse cry of pain.

Jess released her hold on Sam's hair and uncapped the water bottle, bringing it towards the young man's mouth.

Half of the bottles contents disappeared in moments. Sam turned pleading green eyes on Jess when she took the water bottle away and sat it on the nightstand.

"Don't look at me like that," She admonished, "You'll puke if you drink too much."

"Ple-please let me go," Sam whispered; his voice still raspy despite the water, "I w-won't tell anyone."

"Sorry hun," Jess said and ran her fingers through Sam's hair, "I can't take that chance."

"I promise," Sam cried; his voice desperate.

Jessica was unmoved. She had heard similar statements before, many, many times and her heart was hardened against them. Jess shook her head and leaned forward, kissing Sam's cheek.

"Class was boring," Jess smiled, "Let's do something fun."

Sam's eyes widened in fear, "No… please don't."

Jess ignored him. Instead she stood and tugged the blanket that covered Sam down to the end of the bed. Clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, Sam looked incredibly vulnerable. Jess smiled hungrily. She had worn a sundress to class and the garment slid onto the floor in one practiced movement, her panties following.

Sam struggled against the rope securing his hands and feet to the bedposts. It was a futile attempt, the ropes were too tight, chafing already raw skin, and depleting what little energy Sam had.

"Please… please..." Sam whimpered helplessly as Jessica climbed onto the bed, straddling him.

"This won't take long," Jess murmured, "I promise."


After a long, sleepless night spent worrying about his brother, Dean found himself back at the same lecture hall he'd been to the day before, hoping to see some of Sam's friends again.

Dean glanced at his watch. It was early, a quarter to eight, and he wasn't sure if he'd see that kid again.

For all Dean knew, the class didn't commence again until the same day next week.

But Dean couldn't wait that long.

By some miracle, Dean looked up as a group of students came trudging down the path, and spied the young man he'd spoken to earlier.

"Hey! Hi!" Dean called even before the group made it to the lecture hall.

The young man saw Dean and walked over, "'Morning. Did you talk to Sam? Is he still alive?"

Although the last part was spoken in jest, Dean didn't laugh, and the two grew silent for a moment.

"Garrett, you coming or what?" one of the other boys in the group called out, holding the hall's door open.

"In a minute!" Garrett answered, "Save me a seat!"

The boy at the door shrugged and nodded, disappearing inside.

Turning his attention back to his friend's brother, Garrett waited, "So?"

"I didn't talk to Sam yet," Dean told him, "I wanted to speak to you first."

The college student looked confused, "Oookay?"

"Yesterday you said Sam had a girlfriend," Dean began and Garrett nodded.

"Yeah, her name's Jess," he confirmed.

"What's she look like?" Dean asked. If Sam really was deathly sick, then maybe this Jess could help Dean get to his brother.

Garrett smiled, "Tall, blonde, curvy."

Dean nodded and realized that he'd walked right past a girl fitting that description the day before, she'd held the door open for him.

I'm an idiot, Dean groaned inwardly.

"I'm surprised a girl is shaking up with Sam," Garrett continued, "They're the complete opposite of each other."

"How long have they been together?" Dean asked.

"A year or so," the college student told him, "Jess just moved in with Sam about a month ago."

"And he hasn't come to class for three weeks?" Dean asked and Garrett nodded.

Something is seriously wrong here, Dean thought, and turned away from the boy without so much as a 'thank you'.

Dean returned to Sam's apartment building and parked as inconspicuously as possible, hiding the Impala behind a delivery truck in an alleyway down the street from the apartment and waited.

Jess was going to lead him to his brother.


Jessica didn't strike at once. She waited. She had infinite patience and she wanted to put Sam at ease. So she waited one week.

During that week Jess made sure Sam was completely fooled. She exclaimed, surprised how tidy his apartment was, joking with him about it, she made a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the kitchenette's tiny oven, she moved all her belongings over and designated one half of the closet and two of the three dresser drawers as hers.

The week she waited she planned. It was almost too easy.

Sam was already fast asleep. All Jessica had to do was lean over and kiss his temple.

And he was hers.


Dean stared at the apartment building, willing that blonde beauty he'd seen the day before to walk out the door.

A cup of coffee and Danish grew cold on the passenger's seat; Dean would eat once he knew his brother was alright.

Dean glanced up as if entranced as the front door of the apartment door opened and a young woman stepped out onto the sidewalk. She had a book bag over one shoulder and wore a pair of jean capris and a flowery, sleeveless blouse. Her curly blonde hair shone gold in the morning light.

Dean straightened in his seat. That was Jess. He was sure of it.

Now all he had to do was wait for her to come back.

Dean took a sip of coffee and nearly spit up the stone-cold beverage, cursing when some of it dribbled out of his mouth and onto his pants.


Sam stared at the sunlight slanting across the blankets on the bed. Turning his head to the alarm clock- it showed the day of the week as well of the time in glowing red numbers and letters- he saw that it was early Thursday morning. Jess wouldn't be back from class for a while.

Tears pricked at the corners of Sam's eyes and leaked down his face. He was going to die. That was it. Jess- the monster he'd thought was his friend- was going to kill him. Sam feared what the creature would do when she came back. He was trapped, at Jessica's mercy.

He was exhausted and felt sick. Every movement sent sharp pain shooting through his muscles, even his bones ached.

Sam desperately tried to figure out a way to escape. The only time Sam recalled Jess ever untying the ropes was when she returned to the apartment and let him use the bathroom. He was always very weak and had to lean on Jess- reluctantly- for support. Jess stood in the bathroom with him, resting against the doorframe or the wall across from the sink, probably to make sure Sam didn't pass out and crack his head open.

No, the only time Sam was left alone was when Jess left for class and he was always tied up. Jessica never forgot.

Sam closed his eyes and tried not to think about the blonde-haired girl. Instead, he forced his thoughts onto his brother. Dean was out there, hunting, unaware of Sam's plight.

Sam's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't seen Dean once since he'd left for school and now he was never going to see him again. The last memory Sam had of his older brother was one of Dean standing in the middle of their motel room, a sad and defeated look on his face as Sam swept out the door without a backwards glance.


Dean was growing fidgety. What on earth could that girl be doing?

He checked his watch and sighed. It wasn't like Dean was going to leave. No, he had to know what was going on with his brother.

Dean drummed his fingers on the Impala's steering wheel restlessly as he waited.

He nearly missed it when the blonde returned. He had been sifting through his cassette collection, wondering if he could play some music quietly.

Metallica was good, Dean decided. It always calmed him down.

The hunter had just picked his head up, hand wrapped around the cassette when he saw it: a flash of golden hair as Jess went through the front door of the apartment building.

"Gotcha," Dean muttered and dropped the cassette. He exited the Impala quickly and dashed down the street towards the apartment. He tugged the collar of his leather jacket up so that his face was somewhat hidden if by chance she recognized him.

Dean followed Jess down the foyer and stood back as she stopped at the elevators. He stayed only long enough to see which floor she would go to before he turned and ran up the rarely-used staircase.

As Dean ran he felt the reassuring weight of his gun- complete with silencer- in the waistband of his jeans and the dagger hidden in the inside pocket of his jacket. For all he knew, Sam's girlfriend could be human but it was always better to be safe than dead.

Dean reached Jess' floor a moment after she did. He didn't follow her but watched as she strolled down the hallway and unlocked a door at the far end.

Dean waited a moment longer. Glancing at his watch, Dean sprang into action, hurrying down the hallway, he kept his eyes on the door he had seen Jess disappear through.

Not wanting to kick in the door and attract unwanted attention, Dean pounded his fist against the door instead, shouting in his best authoritative tone, "Maintenance!"

The door opened an inch, Jess standing close to the opening, "Yes?"

Dean had slipped the gun from his waistband and now had it pointed at the girl's belly.

"Open the door, nice and slow," he demanded.

For a moment he thought the young woman was going to scream and slam the door in his face but she didn't. She did as he instructed.

"What do you want?" she asked; her voice not nearly as frightened-sounding as it should have been.

"Where's my brother?" Dean asked, not lowering his weapon.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Jess said, "Please don't hurt me."

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, startling Jess and he saw something in her face shift.

"Sam never told me about you," the girl asked, her voice cold and cunning.

"Really? I'm surprised," Dean answered distractedly, listening intently for any sign of his brother.

Jess stared at Dean and licked her lips, "You're pretty too. Maybe after I'm done with Sam I can have you as well."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Sorry, but psycho chick are not on my 'to do' list."

"Funny! Like your brother," Jess crowed. She still seemed completely at ease despite the gun aimed at her.

"Speaking of, where is he? Is he here? Right underneath everyone's nose?" Dean asked, "Tell me or I will shoot you and tear this place apart."

"Hmmm feisty!" Jess smirked and jerked when the bullet slammed into her abdomen. She staggered backwards, hit the wall and slid down, one hand going to her belly, her fingers slicked with blood.

"I warned you," Dean muttered and turned away from the girl.

"Sam! Sammy!" he called and headed towards the back of the apartment.

Dean stepped into the bedroom and flicked on the light, "Oh my God!"

Sam was lying in the bed, his ankles and wrists wrapped in thick yellow rope, tied to the bedposts.

Dean lurched forward and for a second his hands fluttered uselessly. He didn't know what to do first. Setting the gun on the nightstand, he carefully pried the sopping wet gag from his brother's mouth.

"D'n!" Sam's voice was hoarse and whispery, the word slurred slightly around dry, cracked lips.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured comfortingly, "I got her. I'm going to get you out of here. Oh shit, holy mother of crap."

Dean raised a hand and ran his fingers through his brother's hair. Sam closed his eyes at the touch for a moment before he jerked against his restraints.

"D'n, it's her… it's Jess… she's not a girl," Sam rambled, trying to get everything out at once.

"I know, Sam," Dean said and began untying one of his brother's wrists, wincing at how raw and bloodied it was.

"You do" Sam blinked, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, moving onto the second wrist, "I shot her."

"No," Sam whispered but the rest of his sentence was cut off when Dean flung the blanket away so that he could get to the ropes tying his ankles.

"Jesus Christ, Sam, what'd she do to you!" Dean exclaimed and Sam lowered his gaze, suddenly ashamed.

Before Dean could move though, he heard a sibilant hiss from the doorway of the bedroom and his mouth gaped open at the sight of Jessica- or what had once been Jessica- standing there.

The blonde hair was wind-swept and wild, her blue eyes burned with hatred and her mouth was open to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth. Her hands had transformed into talons and her lower half was that of a serpent, her tail lashing back and forth angrily.

"Hessss mine!" the monster shrieked and rushed at Dean.

The hunter and the beast collapsed in a heap, Dean fought to keep from getting gouged by Jessica's claws even as her tail wrapped around him, squeezing.

Sam sat stunned, unable to move for a long moment at the horrible scene enfolding before him.

Dean was going to die and it was all his fault!

He couldn't let that happen.

Leaning over, Sam reached towards the gun on the nightstand, fingers scrabbling for purchase.

He heard Dean gasp in pain and Jess make a low, inhuman chuckle and he stretched forward as much as he could. Sam hooked the trigger guard with his index finger.

Twisting back into his original position, Sam pointed the gun at the battling duo. His vision blurred and his hands trembled.

What if he shot Dean by accident?

There was no time to think about that. Dean's face was turning an ugly shade of purple as Jess continued to squeeze the life from him.

The monster jerked once, twice, three times as Sam shot it, all the bullets hitting Jess' chest in a spray of crimson.

The girl fell to the floor, twitched for a second before growing still. Sam, breathing almost as hard as Dean was, dropped the gun and collapsed against the mattress.

Dean groaned as he pulled himself up, wiping a hand over his face.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked but Sam didn't answer. He was out cold.

Dean sighed and set to work untying his brother's ankles.

"Hey, Sam," Dean gently patted his brother's cheek, "I can see you've lost weight but I still can't carry you out of here."

Sam groaned and opened his eyes. He flinched at Dean's hand on his cheek before realizing that it was only his brother.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked as he slid one arm underneath his brother's shoulder and helped him stand.

Sam's legs almost buckled beneath him but he managed to stay upright.

"I think… it was a succubus," Sam answered quietly and bit his lip nervously, waiting for Dean to make a comment about his choice in women.

Dean didn't make any off-colour joke though, all he said was, "How do we kill it?"

Sam let out a sigh as they began walking; it had been a long time since he'd read the chapter on succubi and their male counterparts.

"Uh… fire," Sam answered after they had left the bedroom, "That's the o-only way to make sure it won't come b-back."

Dean nodded, "Let's just worry about you right now, little brother."

The walk out of the apartment was slow and painful. Dean just wanted to get Sam to the safety of the Impala as soon as possible.

After twenty minutes Sam was curled up in the passenger seat of the classic Chevy, a thick woolen blanket from the trunk wrapped around his shoulders. Dean would get them both to his motel room, get Sam cleaned up and get something warm in his stomach and then later he'd ask his questions.

But now he had a succubus to get rid of. Finding what he needed in the trunk, Dean headed back to the apartment, a Molotov cocktail hidden under one arm.


Sam looked somewhat better after having taken a shower and eating the salad Dean had bought for him at the diner across the street. He sat on the bed opposite Dean's, wearing a clean t-shirt and sweat pants. He had the comforter drawn up to his shoulders.

Sam stared at his knees the entire time he spoke, as though what had happened to him was something to be ashamed of.

"I never even knew," He mumbled, "For the longest time… God! I'm so stupid!"

"It wasn't your fault, Sammy," Dean assured him, "Those bitches seduce men, right? So maybe she was working her evil mojo on you and you couldn't have known."

Sam didn't answer, "There were signs though… that something was off. She never stayed with me very late at night, like she had somewhere else to go."

Dean just listened.

"I really thought she liked me, you know?" Sam continued, "I was so happy when she agreed to live together... I kept thinking, 'this is it. You've finally found the girl of your dreams'."

Sam let out a bitter laugh and Dean frowned.

"I never saw it coming," Sam said, his voice becoming quieter, "I guess she did it while I was asleep. That's when they usually attack."

Dean nodded but still said nothing.

Succubi often came to men in their sleep, when they were most vulnerable, and had intercourse with them. Repeated encounters with a succubus ended in death. The monster stole the man's life force to keep themselves youthful and immortal.

"I couldn't fight back," Sam continued, "She… made me forget… I thought I was just sick… she must have thought that was hilarious…"

Dean nodded, sometimes a succubus would use her power to make her victim forget or to remember events that had never actually happened.

Sam paused for a long moment.

"I only ever got to sleep when she left the apartment," he whispered, "Otherwise she was always there."

"Sam," Dean said gently, "You don't have to go through everything-"

Dean stopped when his brother looked at him and he saw the pain in Sam's face. He knew that if Sam didn't say everything now, he'd only keep it festering inside.

Sam twisted his hands together; his wrists now wrapped in clean white bandages (he had matching ones on his ankles) and lowered his head again.

"She… uh…" Sam hesitated, his breath hitched in his throat, "She forced me to… have sex with her…"

The silence in the room was so thick Dean could have cut it with a knife. Dean recalled from his reading that while a man was asleep he could have all the hot, kinky; monster sex he wanted with a succubus but the same could not be said if the guy happened to be awake. Apparently it wasn't quite the happy ending it would seem to be.

Dean immediately stopped that train of thought before he could get any farther and spoke, "Well, she's toast, so, uh, what are you going to do now?"

Sam shrugged without looking up.

"You threw a Molotov in an apartment building full of people," he said, changing the subject, "Do you think everyone's okay?"

Dean leaned back and actually smiled, "Oh yeah, they're all fine."

Sam glanced at his brother, his brows drawn together in confusion but Dean waved him off.

"Long story," Dean told him, "For another time."

"Why don't you stay here for the night and we can figure out what to do next in the morning?" Dean offered and Sam nodded, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders and back onto the bed.

Dean slipped his boots off and turned out the lights, lying down on his back.


"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked right away. Maybe he should have kept the light on or something. Sam was sure to have nightmares tonight.

"When's Dad coming back?" Dean lifted his head from the pillows at the question Sam had asked about a million times since he'd been small.

Instead of heaping bad news on top of his already stressed and traumatized little brother, Dean said what he usually did whenever a younger Sam would ask the same question, "Soon, Sammy, he'll be back real soon."

Author's Note:

1. Unfortunately I do not own Supernatural or its characters. One can only wish.

2. The fanfic title comes from a song by the Eurythmics.

3. This fanfic is a result of a late-night thought that suddenly popped into my head, 'what if Jessica was evil?' and I just had to run with it.

4. Please leave a review! I'd love to know what you think!