Jack Kline's Sister

Chapter Thirteen: Nihilism, Part Two

"No," Jack said. "Dean? He's strong."

"He's a gnat," MIchael said. "I'm a god. Who would you bet on?"

"What did you do to me, Michael?" Monica asked.

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"What?

"I've tried to kill you, taken away some of your abilities—"

"Some? You took away all of them. How." It wasn't even a question.

Michael just looked at her. "How do you know I did it?" When Monica didn't respond, he looked back to Jack.

"I know everything about each and every one of you. Especially Dean. I'm in his head. Literally. I know how he wasn't sad when you died."

Monica squezed Jack's wrist. "He's lying, Jack. I was there."

"By the way, Jack, your sister's a liar. No, it wasn't that Dean was happy, he just--didn't care."

"Shut up," Monica muttered.

"Because you're not Sam. You're not Cass. You're just a huge burden. You're a weak, helpless thing." He looked at Monica. "Both of you. You think they actually care about you? Love you? You are a job."

"Jack, Monica!" Cass called. They turned and walked to him. "Go help Sam," he said. Before they could pass them, he grabbed them both, one with each arm. "And don't believe anything he says. He's lying."

"No, I'm not," Michael said, in that creepy, drawn-out way. 

Monica ignored the urge to turn around and punch him.

While helping Sam, Jack noticed Monica was going through some stuff again. He couldn't feel her anymore, and couldn't read her mind, either, but he could see from the tension in her limbs she was struggling. That and the fact that afterward, she ran off like there were hellhounds at her heels. Jack decided to give her a minute, and Sam didn't day anything.

"What should I do?" He asked later, while Sam and Cass set up the...whatever it was called.

Cass looked at him. "Pray. And go find your sister. Get her to open up a little. I've tried, but the only person she truly feels comfortable around is you."

"Okay." Jack checked her room. Nothing. Jack checked his room. Nothing. Jack checked the kitchen and closets and bathrooms, still nothing. He couldn't even follow her energy. "Monica!" He called, but he didn't get an answer. He thought for a moment. There was only one other place she liked to be.

Hidden by books.

He finally found her underneath a still table against a bookshelf. Dumb place for a table, he thought, but the perfect hiding place for a worried Nephilim.

He kneeled beside it. "There you are."

She looked at him. "I hid underneath a table because I wanted to be alone."

"I know. But we need to talk. So are you going to come out of there or not?"

Monica shifted. "I'm comfortable."

"Okay, then. I guess I should ask you how you're feeling."

"I'm fine, Jack. I'm just...I don't know. But it's on and off. Not constant. That's a good thing, right?" Jack could see the stark fear in his sister's eyes. "I don't have my power, but maybe..." she looked at him and the tears started to flow. "I'm useless."

Jack pulled his sister into his arms, a gesture she didn't resist. "You're not useless."

"The only reason you guys even put up with me was because I could do stuff. Now I can't do anything. And Dean's gonna die and Michael's gonna take over and...we're all gonna die, Jack."

Jack gave his sister a squeeze. "Don't say that. We'll figure something out. We always do."

Monica looked at him. "People do die, Jack. We just don't ever expect them to be the ones we love."

"What are you, a walking proverb? Dean is strong. He'll be fine. Michael? Michael is the gnat, no matter what he says. We're going to save Dean and fix you and kill Michael, and it will all be okay. Okay?"

Monica nodded.

Jack could feel her body was limp. Too limp. He picked her up like he did earlier. "Come on. We need to be there for Dean."

Monica nodded once before falling asleep.

And that's when Jack knew something was wrong.

                                                                                       ✴✴✴

"So Michael is...in your head," Monica asked Dean later after the whole fiasco was finished.

"Yeah." He looked at her. "Are you okay? You look a little more pale than usual."

"I'm fine, Dean." Monica managed a weak smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm alright."

Monica nodded. "Okay. Well. I'm going to go to bed now." She left, and Dean thought she seemed a bit rushed, but he didn't bother to say anything. He didn't know teenage girls. Sam walked over to him.

"Is it just me, or is she acting strange?" Dean asked.

"Oh? Uh, well I guess I haven't noticed anything." They had agreed to wait a while before telling Dean that the guy in his head was the one person they knew that could take the curse off.

"Mmm." Dean looked at Sam as if looking for an explanation.

"She is a teenage girl," Sam said, with a weak smile. "Could be hormones or something."

"Yeah. I guess." Dean looked at the stairs where he had last seen her and tilted his head slightly, still suspicious.