Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

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Though the charges were dropped, it took time for the boys to be released. Nadia sat with Jay in the hotel lobby, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, occasionally glancing toward the doors.

The minutes dragged, and the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on both of them. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Jay thought he'd gotten his mojo back, that he was reclaiming a piece of the glory he'd lost over the years, but it had come at a terrible price—a deadly price that had cost him his best friend.

Jay shifted uncomfortably in the chair beside her, staring at the polished hotel floor. Finally, he broke the silence. 

"How did you know?" His voice was quiet, almost hoarse. 

"About what?" she muttered, her arms crossed over her chest. 

"About how I felt?" 

Nadia blinked, caught off guard by the question. She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Oh, um... part of it was intuition. The other was research the boys and I did on you."

She looked at him, her voice softening. "You were famous—well-known. You used to play big venues, sell out crowds. Now you're doing magic shows in three-star hotels. And there's nothing wrong with that," she added quickly, "but I figured that... I don't know. It might be hard for someone who used to have it all to adjust to something smaller." 

Jay nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, well... you figured right." His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away. 

Feeling a twinge of guilt, Nadia reached out and patted his shoulder gently, hoping to convey even a small measure of comfort. 

The sound of the doors opening drew her attention. She turned and saw Dean and Sam walking into the lobby. Relief washed over her, and she stood immediately, catching their eye. 

"Hey, you guys all right?" she asked as they approached. 

"Yeah, thanks," Dean replied with a tired smile before leaning in and kissing her briefly on the lips. 

Nadia pulled back and gestured toward Jay. "Well, don't thank me. Thank him." 

"Jay," Sam said, stepping forward. "Thanks for dropping the charges." 

"You mind telling us why you did it?" Dean asked, his brow furrowed as he studied Jay. 

Jay opened his mouth, but no words came out. He swallowed hard, his expression tightening, and Nadia stepped in. 

"Charlie's dead," she said quietly, her voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. 

Both boys froze, their gazes snapping to each other in shock. 

"We have to talk," Jay urged, his voice shaking. Without waiting for a response, he turned and led them out of the lobby. 

They ended up at a small, dimly lit bar near the hotel. Jay wasted no time ordering a stiff drink, his hands trembling slightly as he downed it in one gulp. The boys and Nadia waited, giving him a moment to collect himself. 

Finally, he began. "I was just a kid when I met Charlie," Jay said, staring down at the empty glass in his hands. "Back then, all I knew was how to cheat at cards. Charlie... he got me out of more scrapes than I can count." His voice cracked, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Hell, I would've been dead by the time I hit twenty if it wasn't for him." 

He looked up at them, his eyes rimmed red with grief. "He was more than my friend. He was my brother." 

Sam leaned forward, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry, Jay."