Carry On

“Why don’t you go lay down for a bit? We’ll stay and keep going through some of these journals,” Dean put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook her head.

“No, there’s a lot to go through, I should be helping,” she argued weakly, but Sam quickly took his brother’s side of the argument.

“You’ve had a rough day Jenna. Hell, you’ve had a rough couple of days. You’ll probably feel a lot better if you get some sleep,” he agreed, and after a moment she nodded, but followed them into the living room. She curled up on the fold-out bed, and within moments was out like a light bulb. Dean reached over and pulled the blankets over her before picking up the journal and starting to read for the third time that afternoon.

“Well, should we head down to the office?” Sam asked once he realized it was quarter after one already. Dean looked down at Jenna, before shrugging.

“Why don’t you go? I’ll stay with her,” he suggested, before seeing the confusion on his brother’s face.

“Look, you saw how scared she was when we were going to leave last night, how will she feel if she wakes up and we’re both gone?” he asked, and Sam nodded, before handing his laptop over to Dean. He hated to do it because Dean always seemed to wreck it somehow, but they needed to keep finding information.

“Why don’t you go on the town’s website and check the news about that fire. Surely there would be something, right?” Dean nodded and began looking as Sam left, taking the Impala downtown. It didn’t take long for Dean to find an article about a fire that killed the parents and left three little girls orphans, but there were no names mentioned. Probably because the girls were so young, and everybody in town probably knew who the family was anyway. Small towns seemed to be like that no matter where you went.

Jenna made a sound in her sleep, and Dean looked over at her, seeing that she looked a little distressed. He thought maybe she was too warm, and so pulled the blanket off of her small frame, leaving just the sheet. Instead she got worse, beginning to mumble and thrash about.

“Jenna? Jenna!” he called, and finally her eyes shot open and she froze; she was breathing hard and was obviously disoriented.

“Jenna it’s me; it’s Dean,” he told her, and sat down on the pull out so he could put his arms around her as the tears began to flow once more.

“It shouldn’t have been her Dean, I should’ve been able to protect her. It was my responsibility,” she cried against his chest. He knew the feeling; when Jake Talley had killed Sam he’d felt the same way.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done differently Jenna, you did a good job and you did all that you could,” he insisted, but she shook her head.

“No, if I’d done a good job she’d still be here,” she argued, and clung to him, the sobs wracking her frame. He didn’t know what else to tell her, and so kept silent, rubbing her back until she fell asleep once more. He awkwardly reached over and picked up the journal, reading it while keeping her in his arms.

He’d made it through that one and was started onto the next before Sam got back, and he looked miserable.

“No luck – without names we can’t pull the files…” he trailed off as he walked into the living room and found Jenna curled up asleep in Dean’s arms as he was awkwardly reading around her.

“She had kind of like a nightmare; mumbling and thrashing and when she woke up she started crying… she’s really taking Jill’s death hard. I think she honestly believes she should have been able to save her,” he told Sam, who nodded slowly before sitting down where he had earlier.

“I don’t know what else to do… I mean, we have nothing to go on here,” Sam grumbled, and Dean nodded before flinging a journal at his younger brother.

“Well, keep reading. I mean, something has to pop up, right?”