The next morning I hear Dean and Sam moving about the bunker, and I'm hesitant to come out of my room. I don't want to discuss last night with Dean. Nothing happened, but that's the problem. Nothing happened because I didn't let it happen.

Personally, I believe I have a lot of thinking to do. I still wonder if anyone is looking for me, but I highly doubt it, because I would've been found by now. I still wonder if I can trust these three, even though I have little to no reason not to. And now I wonder if there's something between Dean and I. He's hard to read, and I don't understand emotions.

As I sit, pondering my thoughts and debating with myself, someone knocks on my door.

"Come in," I call.

Of course, none other than Dean Winchester strolls through my doorway. "Hey."

"Hey."

He skips a beat. Then another. Finally, I turn my head to meet his stare.

"Do you need something?" I ask.

"I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay," Dean says. "You seemed a little weird last night."

"Dean, I'm fine," I assure him.

"You know that if I did something, you can tell me, right?"

I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding. This man gets on my last nerves. "It truly isn't you. You didn't do anything. You'd know. I was tired and not ready for whatever could've happened, alright?"

Dean nods. "Alright, fair enough. Sam and I are leaving for a hunt in a little while, we plan on being back in three days. I know you don't eat or...anything, at all, but there's food and drinks, the library is all yours. Just don't do anything stupid while we're gone. If you need something, call Cas."

"Like, hunting animals?" I ask. I'm confused.

"No," Dean chuckles. "Looks like a djinn, over in Utah. We hunt monsters."

"Oh," I stutter a bit, "well, be safe. See you in a few days."

Dean smirks. "Always."

He leaves me feeling flustered. Quickly, I get my emotions in check. After about two hours, I hear the boys leave, and I finally have the bunker to myself. I've been curious to find out more about this place.

I go about the building, peeking into rooms and rifling through old cabinets and boxes of things. I come across tons of lore, spell ingredients, books, files about people and tons of sticky notes with messy handwritings about events or people.

Hours pass as I enjoy myself, and enjoy invading the boys' privacy. I have no clue what time it is now. Part of me wants to snoop through their rooms to figure out more about them, but I can't bring myself to do it. They wouldn't do it to me.

By the time I sit down and look at the time, it's 5 p.m., and I find myself bored again. I want to explore the outside of the bunker a little bit, so I do.

Outside, the sun is setting. The sky is pretty again, just like the last time I was outside. There's some trees near the entrance to the bunker, so I go explore.

Wildflowers are blooming on the ground at the base of thick trees that branch widely at the top and form a canopy from the sky. The greenery shines in the golden light of the sunset and birds chirp in the distance. A rustle of the bushes behind me startles me, but it's just a squirrel.

I walk for a little while longer, until it gets dark. Remembering what Dean said, I start to make my way back to the bunker. But I don't make it far before a familiar voice greets me from out of nowhere.

"Mallory," it calls to me. I turn around to see who it is.

"Jasper? How'd you find me?" I ask. My stomach begins twisting in knots.

He doesn't answer, but instead, approaches me quickly and gathers me into a strong hug. "I've missed you."

My nerves begin to melt away, until I feel a prick on the back of my neck. My vision blurs, and my legs begin to grow weak.

"It's time to go home," Jasper whispers.

When I wake, I feel incredibly sluggish. Is this what it's like to sleep? For all my life, I can't remember being unconscious, except for when I've lost some fights, but even then, it didn't feel this bad.

I take in my situation. I'm once again, bound to a chair, in a room I don't recognize. I feel strange and nervous — if I'm back in the veil, this is a new place, because I know every part of the veil.

My mind starts to race. Do they know what I'm planning? What happens if they find out? Do they have the Winchesters?

My thoughts are cut off as a door opens behind me. I don't move a muscle, partially because I don't want to, and partially because I'm still paralyzed by the injection and my own fear.

"Welcome back," Jasper says, rounding the chair and facing me.

"What did you use on me?" I ask. "I feel awful."

"Diluted horse tranquilizer. I didn't know what would and wouldn't work considering you're half human."

"Well, it worked. Can you like, not chain me up though? You could've just asked me to come back and I would've."

Jasper's facial expression ranges from confused to apprehensive. I'm not sure what he's thinking. My gut is giving me an awful feeling; like I shouldn't be here.

"Why were you with the Winchesters?" Jasper asks. He leans against the wall. "What are they planning?"

"They kidnapped me, I don't know," I shrug. "I think they wanted some type of leverage. But clearly I escaped."

"No, you wouldn't have just been roaming free if they had kidnapped you," Jasper deadpans. "Don't make me make you talk."

I scrunch my nose. "Make me talk? You sound ridiculous. What's gotten into you?"

Jasper scrutinizes me. He doesn't answer my question. Instead, he leaves the room for a minute, and comes back with a blade that looks absolutely terrifying. I hold my terror back though. I can't let him scare me — that's what Cas told me during training once. If they know you're scared, you let them win.

"I'm not afraid to use this," Jasper mutters. "Don't make me."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Ever since we got into trouble, you act like you're better than me. You aren't. What, did you just use me to get in good graces with my dad so you could run some shit around here? Good for you. It's not that big of a deal. Get off your high horse. This isn't like you."

"You're right, it's not," Jasper smirks. He moves closer, gripping the knife a little harder. "But I've changed. We all have to grow up at some point. You're just not there yet."

Something about his statement causes me to laugh. He looks at me sideways as I chuckle, then cuts me off by putting the point of the blade against my shoulder.

"You should start talking now."

"I have nothing to say, Jasper," I stress. "They kidnapped me. I refused to help them, they didn't tell me what they wanted, they just kept me locked up until I escaped. I was trying to find a secret way to get away from the bunker when you found me."

"I know you're lying," he sighs. "I didn't want to use this."

Slowly, Jasper makes a shallow incision on the top of my shoulder. I hold my breath and shut my eyes. It doesn't hurt as bad as I thought it would, but I'm growing more and more horrified by the minute.

"I'm telling you the truth," I state firmly.

"Liar!" He yells. This time, the cut is quick. He slices the knife across my collarbone. Blood starts to run down my torso. The pain starts to set in more, and my breathing becomes labored.

"Jasper, stop," I command him. "This is unnecessary. I know you don't want to hurt me."

"No, your lies are what's unnecessary," he seethes. He pauses, his eyes flickering between a range of emotions, then replaces his mask. "You're putting every reaper in the veil at stake by working with them! Do you realize the error of your mistake?!"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" I yell back. "You don't believe me because you want a reason to be mad!"

Jasper rears back, then places a sharp slap across my face.

"Really?" I ask dully. "That's how this is going to go?"

"No," he replies. "I'm not going to get my hands dirty."

"You already have," I tell him. "You might as well finish whatever it is you're starting. If you're going to do this, then do all of it."

"Maybe you're right," Jasper considers my statement. "I guess I don't mind."

Fear settles in my bones once and for all as soon as I realize that I've just sentenced myself to torture by whom I believed to be my best friend. The banter goes back and forth, but the cuts and bruises keep coming. I reduce my talking to only fake begging. Every so often, I plead with him to stop, and remind him that we've been best friends all our lives. Slowly, his shell chips away with each stab of guilt.

However, nothing good comes from the next few hours. My skin is screaming and my bruises radiate pain. Not only am I once again physically damaged, but my pride and emotions are in pieces.

Having your lifelong best friend torture you is a hard pill to swallow.

Finally, for a few minutes, Jasper stops. I lift my head to look at him through the excruciating pain that radiates behind my eyes. He's standing about five feet in front of me, his expression pained. I see my shot and take it.

"You don't want to do this anymore, do you?" I pity him as well as I can. "I know. You were put up to this, but it hurts you to do this. Why don't we start fresh? I trust you, you trust me, we clean the slate and walk away from this."

"Why?" He asks. His voice cracks — I'm getting to him. "Why would you trust me?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "I love you, Jas. You know that. I always have. I'm willing to just move past this. Are you?"

Jasper's eyes find mine. Slowly, he approaches me and undoes my chains, then helps me up. "I'm sorry, Mallory. I was trying to do what I was told, but I just can't do that to you."

"It's okay. Take me back to your quarters. We can talk it over."

Jasper grabs me by the hand and leads me. As we walk, I work on healing myself in discreet places, and making the pain go away from all the others. I let some of my injuries remain, to have the leverage of another guilt trip on Jasper.

He takes me in and sits me down on his bed. He says he'll be back after a few hours; he has to go work.

I decide to relax and lie down on his pillows. I think about what I said to him. It wasn't all a lie — I do have love for Jasper. It's incredibly diminished, almost to the point of nonexistence, but there's a piece of me that will always care for the old Jasper. For now, I have to keep up this act until I can get out of here.

For the first time, my eyes begin to water, and tears spill down my cheeks, interrupting the drips of blood from my forehead. Confused, I realize that I'm crying, and that I only wish I could return to the bunker, and never come back.