"You don't need to put me in a tank!" Sam protested. "I'm not going anywhere. Where would I go? I don't know the walls in this motel. I don't know if any small folk live in them. You left my supplies back at the other motel so I can't go anywhere, anyway. Plus, Dean is my brother. I don't want to lose him again." 

His protests seem to fall on deaf ears as Jesslyn sang along with the radio. 

"Any man of mine better be proud of me. Even when I'm ugly he still better love me!" She sang at the top of her lungs, a broad smile on her face as the country song twanged from the speakers. "Any man of miiine better walk the line. Better show me a teasin', squeasin', pleasin' kinda time. I need a man who knows, how the story goes. He's gotta be a heartbeatin', fire breathin', breathtakin', earthquakin' kind. Any man of mine." 

She drummed her hands on the steering wheel in rhythm to the song. Sam clapped his hands over his ears. Why did humans have to be so dang loud?! They probably didn't even realize how loud they were. But Jesslyn's singing threatened to burst his eardrums. There was no escape. He sat in a portable cup-holder that was hung from the driver's side window. Sam wanted to put his ears out at the next song that came on.

Jesslyn cracked up laughing as she bounced and sang along to the country song. "Music's playing up and down the block. Mostly Christian, blues, country, folk and southern rock. It's a little piece of paradise way out here in the woods. There's always something going on down in the trailerhood!" 

She grinned mischievously and flicked on her brights before getting right up on Dean's bumper. She stayed there for a good block before her phone rang. She turned the music down, much to Sam's relief, and picked up her phone.

"Hello?" she answered all too innocently. 

"What in the hell are you doing? Back off before you hit me. And turn your brights off!"

Jesslyn giggled again and backed off as requested. "Oh alright. Some fun you are."

"If you want fun you should have ridden with me."

"Mm. Tempting," she purred. "But then what would I do with Cherry? I quite like her."

"And I like Baby just as she is. So back off." The call disconnected and Jesslyn sighed.

"He can be so dramatic." But she turned her brights off. "And no matter what you say, you're getting a tank. I can't very well risk you running off and running your mouth about Dean to any monster who's willing to listen. And there are a lot out there that would just love to bring him down. A few witches, too."

"Dean is my brother!" Sam reiterated. "I'm not going to run off and go tell his secrets and leave him vulnerable. I've wanted to see him again for the better part of fifteen years. Do you know how painful that is?"

Jesslyn's eyes flashed. Her bright and cheery mood seemed to have dissipated. "Yes. I do." Her voice was low and flat. "More than you could realize. More than you could experience. At least you could hold on to the faint hope of seeing your loved ones again. I've never had that. I never will." Her hand came up and rubbed her tattoos. "So shut up. You're going in a tank and that's the end of the conversation." 

She turned the music back up but didn't sing along. Dean waited for her, leaning against Cherry's driver's side door as she ran into the store. She came back with a large tank along with some doll furniture. "It's furniture from some generic toy company. The dolls were the closest thing to his size I could find."

Dean grunted. "You did more than I would have." He pushed off the car and opened the door so she could set her packages in the front seat. "I would have gotten the cheapest tank and been done with it."

"Yeah well I'm a sucker for a sob story." She set the merchandise in the seat, adjusting it so the items wouldn't go flying if she hit the breaks. "Which is one reason I like you so much." She laughed at his expression and kissed him lightly on the lips. She smirked as she slid her hands into his back pockets. 

Sam frowned from his spot in the hanging cup holder. He had the perfect vantage point to watch their hips rest against each other and Jesslyn to grab his brother's ass. This was not what he wanted to be looking at. "Can we just get to where we're going, please?!"

Dean scowled at the tiny person. "Shut up. You don't get to decide anything. We'll take all the time we damn well please." He leaned in and kissed Jesslyn fiercely as if to prove a point. When he let up, he had to support his partner as her knees wobbled and she slumped into him.

"Hot damn. Bitch again, little guy!" she egged him on. "Make Dean kiss me like that again." 

Dean smirked. "Maybe we should call him Bitch."

"Oh be nice," Jesslyn said. "I'm sure he'll give us some sort of name to call him."

"My name is Sam!"

"I'm not calling him that," Dean said vehemently.

"So don't." Jesslyn shrugged. "But he hasn't really earned being called 'bitch' yet, either."

"We'll have to disagree on that." He stood her back on her feet and closed the passenger door. "Come on. We'll stop for the night in the next town over. There's a little motel there. I made a reservation for us when you were doing your shopping." He kissed her again. 

"Presumptuous. I like it," she smirked. "Alright. I'll follow you."

They made it out of town with no issues. Traffic was thin and all lights were green. Jesslyn was pleased. She hated any sort of traffic, especially when she had a destination in mind. It was dark on the road. There were no streetlights on this little farm-to-market road in the middle of nowhere. It was illuminated solely by the headlights of passing cars. Jesslyn stayed two car lengths back from Dean's sleek black Impala. She was in a bit of a driving haze as she focused on the glowing red taillights as they went through an intersection with flashing yellow lights. She didn't see the big truck until it was too late.

The lifted Dodge with a cattle guard slammed into her passenger side, sending her careening out of the intersection, off the road and into the ditch. She clutched the wheel for dear life and screamed as the car spun. She finally came to a stop with the nose of her precious Mustang in the muddy ditch. She panted, knuckles white and eyes wide. 

The truck had T-boned her, slamming into the center of the passenger side of the car. The driver had hit their brakes, but not nearly soon enough. Both vehicles were damaged, but Jesslyn's car was clearly worse off. The Dodge was still drivable, as shown when the driver backed the big vehicle up, got back onto the road and sped off.

Sam had screamed, too, clinging to the cupholder for dear life as the car was violently smashed into. He thought he was going to fall out and fall to his death on the floor. Somehow, through what could only be a miracle, he managed to stay in his perch. When the spinning and screaming finally stopped, he looked up to his captor.

"Are you alright?!" he asked. 

"I--I think so." Her voice was shaky, trembling like the last autumn leaf against the wind. 

Dean had seen it all from the rear-view mirror. He swore and jerked on the wheel, spinning the Impala around and speeding back to the scene of the accident. Jesslyn's car was not going anywhere under it's own power for quite some time. He jumped out of his and dashed to his partner and pulled her door open, heedless of the small life clinging there.

"Jesslyn!" he yelled. "Are you alright?"

"My car!" she wailed. "That asshole smashed into my car!"

"Forget the car. Are you hurt anywhere?" Dean snapped.

"No!" Jesslyn snapped back. "Just shaken. And pissed. Did you get his plates?! He sped off! The absolute fucking loser. I hope his overcompensating truck falls a-fucking-part on him. He doesn't deserve to be driving! He needs his license taken away and his truck, too! Oh if I get my hands on him..."

Dean sighed. She seemed to be alright, but her car definitely wasn't going anywhere. "Do you want me to call Bobby? Have him come pick Cherry up?"

"No!" She stumbled out of the car. Dean caught her and helped her to her feet. He walked beside her as she mince-stepped through the grass and mud and out onto the road. The flashing yellow light overhead gave dull illumination to the gruesome scene. "Yes," she muttered miserably. "My poor Cherry. Look what he did to her! Oh I hate him so much." 

She ran her hand through her wild curls. "Damnit! Hell's bells. Fuckin' hell. Mother fuckin' hell. ARGH!" She let loose an inarticulate scream. Her car was all she had. And now it practically lay in ruins. "I hate people. Remind me why I go around saving them?"

"I don't know. I think you go around killing monsters more than you go around saving people," Dean said in an attempt at a joke. 

"Yeah, sure, we'll go with that." She sighed again. Then her eyes widened. "Oh shit! The borrower was in the cupholder. Go check on him."

"Me? Why me?" Dean protested. "You're the one who wanted to bring him along!"

"Because I'm not going back in the muddy grass in these heels!" she said. She pointed to her shoes. "These are Louis Vuittons! They don't go in mud and grass. Really they shouldn't even be on pavement. Just flooring."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll get your things and put them in mine. You call Bobby."

Jesslyn took his phone and called up their mutual friend as Dean went to collect what he could from her car. It was a miracle she wasn't all cut up. The glass in the windows had shattered inwards, littering the floor and passenger side with them. Even the windshield and back window were spider-webbed with cracks. The tank with all the supplies for the borrower had glass all inside it. There was no way he could put the little guy in there, not without seriously hurting it. And Jesslyn wouldn't be pleased if it got hurt.

He looked to the tiny person clinging to the cupholder for dear life. He was pale and shaking, probably terrified and in shock. If he had been riding on the passenger side, he probably would be dead. While that would have solved Dean's concerns over this creature having an unnatural amount of information over him, he was slightly pleased that it had survived. Despite his distaste for the thing, he was curious about why it knew so much of something it had no right to. 

"Time to go," he told it. But where to stow the creature? The tank was currently out of the question. While Jesslyn's purse was initially appealing, he knew that if he so much as touched it, she would know and she would yell at him. So that was out. Her suitcase was a possibility, but it had too many loose things tumbling about inside. The creature would probably be squished almost immediately. 

Dean glanced over himself. He was wearing a jacket to ward off the evening chill. The front pocket of the jacket had a button closure. That would work. He unbuttoned the flap, picked up the tiny person and dropped it inside. He quickly fastened the button back so the creature wouldn't escape. Then he gathered all of Jesslyn's things not covered in glass and toted them to his car.

Sam struggled against the fingers. This man may be Dean, but he didn't recognize Sam as a person and was therefor dangerous. The small being was dropped into the darkness of the pocket and sealed inside when it was buttoned. He protested by punching the living wall of muscle behind him. There was no response.

Dean grunted when he felt the faintest of movements in his pocket. No telling what the creature was up to. He put Jesslyn's things in the backseat along with his bags. Then he began emptying out her arsenal that was stowed under the back seat of her car. It took several trips but he ultimately got it done. He stopped when Jesslyn hung up the phone.

"Heard you yelling at him and thanking him in the same breath," he said.

"Yeah, he wanted to wait until morning to come get her," she replied. "I had to convince him to set out tonight."

"How'd you do that?" he asked. 

"I told him my insurance company would send him the check to repair her." She smiled. "That's the one thing I kept up no matter what. I wasn't about to let this baby go running all over the country without insurance. And I have that additional one that's for basic repair parts, not just a major accident. So a tow truck is en route. We have to wait here for it and the cop." She noticed that he had emptied her vehicle for her and smiled. 

"Thanks, babe. You're the best." She leaned in and kissed him only to pull back when she felt a lump in his pocket squirm under the pressure of her hand. "What the?"

"The borrower-thing," Dean said. "The tank you bought has a bunch of glass in it. And I didn't think you would want him in your purse or suitcase. So I put him in my pocket."

Jesslyn laughed. "So creative. Thanks, hon." She kissed his cheek and leaned against him again, careful to avoid crushing the small person. That would be messy. She rested against Dean, relishing his warmth and his solid presence and protective embrace as they waited for the insurance company tow truck to arrive. 

The cop arrived first. Jesslyn gave him the license with the name that matched the one on her insurance policy and gave her statement. Dean gave his witness statement. They were finishing the paperwork when the tow truck arrived. The driver shook his head at the damage.

"Hope you have a good insurance, Miss," he said. "This is bad. You're lucky to have walked away like you did."

"I agree," she said tiredly. When the officer was satisfied and Cherry loaded onto the wrecker, Jesslyn took the name and address of the yard it was going to with every intention of calling Bobby as soon as she got into Baby. But once she was buckled into the front bench seat of the black Impala, she was out. The shock and stress of the past few hours had taken its toll. Her head rested on her pillow that was propped against the window.

So Dean took the paper and called his old friend. It was a brief conversation and he hung up. He kept his music low as he drove through the dark. It was a couple hours later when they reached their destination. In all that time, the borrower hadn't moved once. At least, not so much that Dean was really aware of it.

Sam was relishing this contact. It wasn't quite what he wanted and wasn't what he would have preferred by any means, but it was positive-ish contact with his older brother nonetheless. He was now in the same vehicle as Dean. Jesslyn was going to be riding everywhere with him. Which meant he was, too. There would be many, many opportunities to talk to Dean and try and get through to him. For now, he could relax. It had been a long, long day and he was exhausted. He curled into the wall of muscle behind him and focused on the rhythmic beating of his brother's heart.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Sam found this soothing. It was a reminder that Dean was here. He was right here. They were together again, even if it wasn't quite how Sam had always imagined it. He closed his eyes and slept.

Dean sat outside the shabby little motel as the rain slowly came down. He knew he had to get up and go check in and get the key to their room, but he didn't want to disturb Jesslyn. She was at peace when she slept. Peace didn't come to either of them often. Finally, he opened the door.

The overhead lights came on and Jesslyn stirred. "Mm. Are were there yet?" she asked through a yawn.

"Yeah. I'm going in now to get the key. You can wait here," he told her.

"'kay," she muttered and curled back into her pillow.

Dean half-smiled at her before stepping out of the car and hustling inside. It didn't take long to give his fake name, fake ID and stolen credit card before getting the key. He walked back out to the Impala and drove around to their room on the far side of the building. He parked and gently shook Jesslyn awake. 

"Jess, come on. We're here. Let's get you inside and to bed where you can really sleep."

"Mm. Fine," she grumbled. She opened the door and grabbed her pillow before it hit the ground. She fumbled with the seat belt for a moment finally emerging from the car. 

By this point, Dean had already gotten their bags into the room. Inside his pocket, Sam was startled awake with the sliding back and forth due to Dean's movements. He clutched the fabric around him, praying he wouldn't be forgotten as they settled in the room. But if they did forget about him, he would sleep in the pocket instead of in the tank. So he decided to be absolutely still and quiet and hope they did forget about him.