Jenny stared at Madison's body, watching blood trickled between her lips. She lowered her gun, taking in a shaky breath.

She looked to the bedroom, Sam poking his head out and staring at Madison's body with streaks of tears gleaming his face. He flashed his eyes to Jenny, who looked away, her heart tugging itself as she did so.

Dean walked out of the room, trying not to look at the dead woman's body as he gently grabbed Jenny's arm. "Wake up."

Jenny shot up from her bed, breathing heavily. She turned to Dean, sleeping peacefully next to her. Sam was in the other bed, tossing himself onto his stomach.

Quietly, Jenny got out of the bed, til-toeing her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She looked down at her bare legs, one of them being wrapped in gauze, a small line of blood poking through.

She looked to the mirror, frowning and wiping away the tears that had dried on her face. She couldn't understand why she was crying over someone she had known for a few days, a woman she had hated for a majority of the time she spent around her. Maybe it was because Sam had quickly grown a liking to Madison, or maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was the relief that she was able to get over her fear of werewolves.

No. She was still shaky around them. In their true form, at least.

Jenny opened the cabinet under the sink, which was completely empty, save for a single bottle of vodka in the corner. She popped the cap open, looking at herself in the mirror again before taking a few large gulps of the bitter drink.

She sat down in the lid of the toilet, staring at the wall ahead of her as she replayed the last few moments in Madison's apartment. She hated that she was the one that killed her. Madison easily could have done it herself instead of putting that kind of guilt on Jenny's conscience.

She didn't feel guilty for killing Madison. She felt guilty for the way she treated her. For how she treated Sam when he wanted to try and save Madison. Cold. Heartless, maybe.

Jenny looked down at the gauze, whimpering in pain as she ripped it off rather than being gentle like she usually was. She grabbed one of the washcloths, soaking it in vodka before sticking it to her wound. She shut her eyes tightly at the pain, pressing her lips together to stifle a loud noise that could wake Sam or Dean.

She kept pressing the cloth to the wound, sinking the pain in deeper as if it would get rid of the other emotions she was feeling.

After a moment the pain eventually went away, and Jenny took another large swig of the bottle, taking a fresh wrap from the sink's counter and wrapped her leg up. She kept drinking until the bottle was near empty, every moment now passing by in a blacked out blur.

Jenny attempted to stand up, only collapsing to the ground with a large thud. It had startled Dean awake, walking over to the bathroom and knocked softly.

"Jen? You alright?"

"I... am fine." She slurred out, attempting to stand up again, only to slid into the bathtub. Dean opened the door, a worried look in his face as he glanced around, spotting Jenny and the bottle of vodka in her hand.

"Jen..." He shut the door behind him, kneeling next to her as she pressed her back to the bathtub. He rubbed her arm, watching her glossy eyes as they stared at her knees.

"Why I... I just feel so bad? It's... It's not like-" Jenny's lips moved in an unnatural way, confusing her. She propped her arm on the toilet, resting her head on her shoulder. "It's not like... like it was a different kind of... kind of case."

Dean was quiet, taking the bottle from Jenny and set it aside, shuffling next to her as she then leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Sam ... hates me. I'd hate me." She mumbled. Dean tsked, shaking his head.

"He doesn't hate you, Jenny. He— He understands why Madison let you do what you did."

"Kill her. I killed her." She messed with the hem of her shirt, a hard frown on her face. "I... I killed someone that—that Sam liked."

"And she killed people. She wanted it, Jen. You can't guilt your way through this. And you can't drink your way through it, either." Dean gestured to the bottle of vodka, and Jenny sniffed, shaking her head.

"I didn't want to do it." She admitted, huffing. "I- I did at first but... I wanted to do it... When Mads wasn't Mads. When... When she was bad."

"If you weren't there, Jen... She would have made Sam do it." Jenny nodded, wiping her face.

"I know... I wish— I wish we took a different case... We could have had someone else do it." Dean rubbed circles against her knee, resting his head against hers as he thought.

"Yeah. But no one's as good as us." He flashed a smile, which in turn made Jenny smile softly. "Let's get you back to bed."

"I can't stand up." She groaned as Dean got up, sliding against the tub. Dean caught her before her head could smash against the wall, lifting her up bridal style, and carried her back to their bed.

———

Jenny woke up an hour later, still very drunk, as she attempted to quietly get out of bed. She put on a pair of pants, grabbing her shoes and motel keys and slipped out.

Jenny fumbled as she walked straight to the bar across the street, finding herself a seat and waved a waitress down.

"Well, you look like you've had a rough night." The waitress commented, mainly pointing out Jenny's bed head. She scoffed, nodding.

"You have... no idea. I'll just take whatever's the strongest here." The waitress nodded, taking out a glass and poured a bottle of scotch into it before sliding the glass to Jenny. "Mm. Haven't had that in a while."

Jenny took the entire glass in one breath, setting it down and made a vile face, pointing to the bottle. "You can just leave that."

The waitress shrugged, handing Jenny the bottle as she poured herself a bigger glass. "Rough night?" She turned to see a man a little older than her now sitting a few seats away from her at the bar.

"Yeah. Seems to be obvious." Jenny grumbled, taking a sip of her scotch.

"What's got you here at three in the morning?" The man asked and Jenny looked at him.

"I could ask you the same thing." She took another sip.

"Well, you know the deal. Come out for a few drinks, hoping to bring a pretty girl home." He gave Jenny a flashy smile and she raised her brows at him.

"Hm. Well, you won't find one here." She gestured to the bar that was only had a few old men and a single, muffin top woman with an even larger man at a table. The man at the bar chuckled, pointing to Jenny.

"I was talking about you."

"Ah, see my boyfriend wouldn't appreciate the flirting." Jenny jokingly pointed at him as she finished her glass. The man looked around, shrugging.

"I don't see any man that could be yours. Unless you look in the mirror right there." Jenny turned to the mirrored shelf.

"Cute. But seriously, my boyfriend will kick... your ass." She slurred out, trying her best to not appear drunk, but it clearly was not working.

"I don't think he'd have to know?" The man smirked playfully, Jenny glaring at him.

"Listen, buckaroo. I— have had a very long, agonizing, and traumatic week. I don't need a random dude like you to continue the streak." Jenny fished through her pockets, pulling out a few twenty's and slapped it on the table.

The man stared at Jenny, raising his hands in defeat. "Okay then." He watched as she stumbled to the door, pulling out a few dollar bills before leaving the bar and following her across the street.

Jenny stopped in the middle of the empty road, turning around. "You fucking kidding, dude?" She spat, the man pausing in his tracks as she approached him. "You really want to try this right now?"

"Look lady I was just—"

"No shut the fuck up for two seconds!" Jenny's eyes widened as she gained a little more consciousness, the man backing back up onto the sidewalk. "I will kill you before my boyfriend gets the chance. And he's been accused of murder several times!" She yelled, the man's eyes widening.

"Jesus Christ lady what's your problem?!"

"My problem is that my boyfriends brother, who happens to be my best friend, hasn't even gotten mad at me once in the last four days! And I need him to be! He hasn't cracked, snapped, or popped a bloody vein!" Jenny flailed her arms around, kicking a rock into the road. "I don't get it! I hurt someone he cared about! And I'm more beat up that he's not mad at me than from hurting her!"

"See maybe I should just send you my therapists number—"

"I don't need a therapist!" She snapped, turning back to the man. "I need Sam to yell at me! Or tell me he's angry! But Jesus fucking Christ these Winchesters don't OPEN UP!"

The man stared at Jenny, completely baffled by the very drunk woman. She scoffed loudly, crossing her arms as the man held out her motel room keys.

"I was just going to give these back to you." Jenny stared at the keys for a minute before grabbing them and walking across the street in silence.

She stopped when she got to her motel room, Sam sitting outside. "You're very loud when you're drunk." He commented quietly, watching Jenny sway back and forth as she attempted to stay upright. "Jenny—"

"Please just— Tell me you're mad at me." She interrupted, and Sam frowned.

"Why would I be mad at you for doing something Madison asked you to do?" He asked, and Jenny's eyes started flickering everywhere, silently hoping it was alcohol poisoning coming to kill her.

"Because Sam I—" She cut herself short, sighing. "I hate that I did it." Sam frowned in confusion, watching as Jenny started to tear up again. "My entire Hunting career has been filled with the fear that one day I'd hunt a werewolf again. My entire life I've been afraid of them. And now that— Now that I had the chance to redeem myself and... And get over that fear... They end up being someone you sleep with!" Jenny laughed, stifling a cry.

"When we met Madison, I already had that feeling that she was probably the werewolf." Jenny gestured to her body, to her head. "I'm basically a human EMF reader for monsters. But.. I didn't want to believe it because.. I saw that you started liking her so quickly. And I became this harsh, cold person. And I— And I don't like being that person. Like I'm some soulless Hunter that wants to push all of her emotions aside to get the case over and done with." Jenny leaned against the wall. Noticing that Sam was eerily quiet, she continued.

"But that night, when we were all with Madison to see if... If the 'cure' had worked... I got to like the person she was and forgot that she was still a monster. And..." She let out a soft cry, wiping her tears as Sam stepped closer. "I killed someone you liked, Sam. Even when I said I was going to be the one to kill her... I ended up not wanting to and still had to do it."

Sam brought Jenny into a tight hug, shaking as she tried not to cry. "I don't hate you, Jenny. I don't think I ever could." Sam whispered, he himself trying his best to not cry. "You stopped Madison from ever hurting anyone again. You did what you always do. The right thing."

Jenny nodded softly, stepping away from Sam. "Thank you." She mumbled. Sam nodded, helping her walk back into the motel and to her and Dean's bed.

did you guys expect me to just completely forget about Jenny's coping arc? absolutely not we need these three to talk about their feelings because the writers of SPN never gave us that.