From The Mind Of Jemma Winchester

This Is A Reward?

I do not own any of these characters except for Jemma. All rights go to the CW.

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The Bunker 

5:55 p.m.

        I sit at the large table in the center of the main room of the bunker. Dean is sat next to me, and Sam is across the table. Both are staring intently at the papers that lay before them. A headache creeps its way into my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut. "You okay?" Dean asks.

        "Yeah, I'm fine," I respond. It feels like my brain is trying to escape from my skull. I let out a small grunt.

        "Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asks again.

        "Yeah, I just have a headache." All of a sudden, a sharp, ear piercing, ringing blasts through my ear drums. I stumble out of my chair and toward the bathroom as my stomach begins to twist in every direction. 

        "Jemma? Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean grabs my shoulder, and my head pounds harder. The ringing in my ears intensify. 

        "Stop!" I say through gritted teeth. Dean takes his hand off my shoulder. I crash into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. 

        "Jemma? What's going on? What's wrong?" Dean pounds on the door. "Open the door, please."

        "I can't, it hurts too much." I burst into tears. "What's happening to me?"

        "I don't know honey, but we'll figure it out. Are you sure you're not just feeling sick?"

        "My brain is pounding against my skull, and there's a loud ringing in my ears, and you're just making it worse." There is silence on the other side of the door.

        "I'm sorry," I say, "please just...get Cas...or someone." More silence.

        "Okay, but can you come out of the bathroom?"

        "No, I-I can't. I'm sorry."

        "It's okay, Jemma. We'll figure it out, just like we always do." Dean's boots clomp back down the hall slowly to get Sam and find Cas. My skin is clammy, and I'm shaking so much I almost fall over. 

        I don't sleep at all the entire night. Sam and Dean take turns sitting outside the door, standing guard. Every couple hours - or at least I think they are hours - one pair of boots clomps away and another pair replaces them. It is one in the morning when I hear Dean start to pray while he thinks I'm asleep. "Cas, I know your grace is fading and you probably can't hear me, but I need your help. Something's wrong with Jemma. I know she isn't just sick, she's changing, and I don't know what to do. I don't know what she's becoming, but I need your help. I need you."

        I press my hand to my mouth to muffle the sobs that escape from my throat. I don't know what I'm becoming either. Whatever it is, I pray it isn't bad, I pray that I can use it to help people, I pray I can use it to be a better person. 

        Around six in the morning, I give into sleep, curling up in a tight ball in the corner of the small bathroom and shutting my eyes. A piercing headache and ringing in my ears wakes me up roughly 20 minutes later. "Jemma, can you open the door for a moment?" Cas' voice comes from the other side of the door.

        "Yeah, just for a second," I say as I swing the door open, letting Cas get in before slamming it again. "Oh, it's you, too." I press my hands against my ears and slide into the corner again, trying to be absorbed by the wall.