Don't let 'em get where they're going to
You know they're only what they think of you
You heard of this emotional trickery
And you felt like you were learning the ropes
But where you're going now you don't know

And when the kids on the street say
What's your problem girl
And the weight of their smile's just
Too much for you to bear
When they all make you feel
Like you're a problem girl
Remember
You're no problem at all
You're no problem at all

-"Problem Girl" by Rob Thomas

Problem Girl

"They say the world is a stage. But obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines." – Calvin

"Maybe that's why it's hard to tell if we're living in a tragedy or a farce." – Hobbes

"We need more special effects and dance numbers." – Calvin, Calvin and Hobbes

Chapter One: Deep Trouble

Tempe, Arizona 2010

"And as you can see, there are a great deal of problems with the actual survey. First of all there's canonicity, or the ideal body type for the period. An example would be comparing the ideology of Michelangelo's David to-"

Jesse groaned as she reclined back in her very uncomfortable chair, fidgeting in her seat even as she tried to ignore the ever-increasing numbness in her backside. Her Art History lecture teacher – sorry, professor, got to remember, it's college now, and they get really cranky if you call them teachers – had one of those voices. It was the monotone voice that kept threatening you with the embarrassment of conking out right in class, even if you didn't want to.

Sorry, but that was not gonna happen today.

The woman twitched as she sat up again, shifting around anxiously in her seat as she glanced around the lecture hall, hazel eyes darting from the projection screen with the very bland set of notes that she had already copied, to the set of metal doors off to the side, to the sports watch strapped firmly around her left wrist. Damn, it was only 4:37. She still had eight more minutes until the end of class.

With a sigh of resignation, she sank back down into her seat, her right leg jiggling from what could only be pent-up nervous energy even as she reached out with one hand to steady the laptop that was balanced rather precariously on the knee of the leg that wasn't bouncing slightly. Normally, she didn't have a problem with how long class actually ran, but today was different.

Today, she had somewhere to be.

A small smile flitted across Jesse's face as she allowed her thoughts to drift, her eyes glazing over faintly in the process. By the time that she actually got out of class, took the bus out to the parking lot on the other side of campus, and got on to the freeway, well, she already knew her schedule well enough by now to know that the task could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an hour, depending on whether or not she managed to catch one of the earlier shuttles. Hopefully, she could get out of class and make it to the bus stop before it got too crowded. Standing packed among a bunch of other people and holding on to a strap as the bus driver drove like a rally car racer was definitely not her idea of fun.

Last time she'd done that, she swore that her right arm had almost been jerked out of its socket.

"A true art student must internalize these lessons, seeing Art History as given, natural, and self-evident. In the survey, what is being taught 'appears before us as a given that pre-exists art history and not as the ideological sedimentation of the practices of art historians'. So, according to the newer 'philosophers' of the art world, art is supposed to be-"

It was at that precise moment that her cell phone started buzzing, and Jesse jerked involuntarily in her seat before she shoved her hand into the pocket of jeans and pulled the device out. With a quick glance up at the professor – who was still going on and on about how art was not 'dead' – the young woman carefully flipped her phone open, noting absent-mindedly that it was a text from her brother. The message 'You're old!' appeared on the inside screen of her phone, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes in response.

'Want me to forward this message to Mom?' she typed back, and smirked as she hit send. Andy was a good kid – well, technically twenty didn't exactly count as being a 'kid' – but there were just some times when he really got on her nerves. He was still her little brother though, even if he was taller than her now.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time the words 'You suck' greeted her. Jesse cocked an eyebrow in response before she shook her head and entered the message of 'Love you too, little brother'.

Seconds later, he responded with the wonderful sentiment of 'Senility is setting in now. I'm not little.'

Jesse bit back a laugh as she brought up her left hand to conceal the fact that she was smiling. Yeah, she had definitely hit a nerve with that last text. Andy hated it when she called him little, especially since he was now a very lanky Air Force cadet, who stood at 6'0 and had a very intimidating 'do not screw with me' face. With that thought, she snapped her phone shut and stuffed it back into her pocket. A quick glance at the clock on her laptop showed that it was now 4:43, and the woman grinned broadly before she glanced up at the overhead projector.

Okay, no new notes were up there yet. She might just be home free here.

"-that's it. Okay people, I will see you all on Wednesday."

"Thank you," Jesse sighed as she sank down into her seat and quickly shut down her laptop, pausing only long enough to save the notes that she had typed up. With a precise 'snap', she closed the black laptop and stuffed it into one of the compartments of her backpack before she zipped it up and easily shouldered the canvas bag.

Awkwardly, she stumbled out into one of the aisles once the rest of the people in her row had left, and quickly zipped over towards one of the back exits. The only good thing about the layout of her classroom was the fact that most of the people sat in the front – the AC was better down there – so the back exits didn't get crowded as fast. Jesse grinned eagerly as the soles of her black Converse slapped against the concrete floor before she reached for the door –

And promptly bounced off against it.

"What the hell?" she growled as she stumbled backwards, shaking her head slightly before she stared at the metal door and let out an annoyed huff. Someone from the next class was probably sitting up against it or something.

Good thing the fire marshal wasn't there, otherwise that someone would definitely be on the receiving end of a serious ass-chewing.

The woman rolled her eyes before she stepped up to the door and shoved her shoulder up against it, pressing her hands firmly against the bar that was supposed to unlatch the door. Nothing. It still wouldn't budge.

"Oh, come on!" Jesse snapped as she reached out and slammed the palm of her right hand against the metal, creating a loud 'thud'. "Dude, stop sitting in front of the door! People are trying to get out over here!"

There was no reply, and Jesse frowned as she took a step back and glared at the door. Okay, this was just getting ridiculous. If this was some football player's idea of a joke, then the coach was definitely not going to be happy with her, 'cause she was going to kick this guy's ass. Already there were people piling up behind her, wanting to know what was going on. The woman sighed before she threw herself up against the door once again, and this time it actually gave way a little.

"Finally," she sighed as she shoved the door open, and stumbled out into a glaringly white hallway.

Jesse flinched as she instinctively took a step backwards, her nostrils flaring as the sterile stench that could only be found in one place filled her nose. She looked around her with wide eyes, her mind temporarily shorting out for a second before she spun around and reached for the door that she had come through. This was definitely not the Life Sciences wing, and there was definitely something wrong with this whole situation. The door that she had just gone out was supposed to lead to a small set of stairs outside.

Her hand closed around the door knob and she immediately jerked it open. The damp interior of a mop closet greeted her instead of the lecture hall that she had just exited, and Jesse frowned as she stared at it intently. Slowly, she released the door handle and let it close, the hair all along the back of her spine prickling uncomfortably as she did so.

Okay, this was more than a little weird, even by her standards.

"The hell?" she finally muttered, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she reached up and dragged her fingers through her sandy-brown hair, pulling her long bangs away from her face. It almost looked like she was in the hallway of a hospital.

A shudder briefly coursed through her body as she tightened her grip on the strap of her backpack, which was still slung on a single strap over her right shoulder. She hated hospitals, and with good reason. Way too many people that she'd cared for had been in them. Jesse shifted uncertainly in her spot, adjusting the bag nervously, before she reached down and absent-mindedly wiped the palm of her hand against the leg of her jeans. How in the world had she ended up in a hospital anyways?

She gave a wry snort as she rolled her eyes, a thought coming to mind. Maybe she had fallen asleep in class. Talk about embarrassing. Hopefully, if that was the case, the professor wouldn't notice and draw attention to her lack of consciousness.

"So, this is a dream," Jesse said as she gave a slightly self-depreciating grin. "Fun times. Instead of Alice in Wonderland, it's Jesse in House. All I need now is for Hugh Laurie to gimp past me and make some kind of smart-assed comment."

When the actor in question didn't waltz past on command, the woman smirked dryly before she shrugged and started to head down the hallway. Hey, if this was indeed a dream, then she might as well enjoy it. Besides, it wasn't like the back door to her Art History lecture hall would just magically lead to some random hospital mop closet, especially since she had used said door on multiple occasions without it ever doing anything odd.

The second that she rounded the corner into the next hallway, it was like the hospital had exploded into life. Nurses were wandering all over the place holding clipboards; the intercom was going into overtime, and doctors were going about their business. The only thing that really struck Jesse as odd was the fact that pretty much all of the medical staff there seemed to be woman.

"O-kay, Weirdie McWeirderson," she muttered as she pressed her back up against a nearby wall to avoid being run over by some lady who was barking out orders to an orderly, who was occupied with the task of wheeling a guy to an operating room.

Neither one of them paid any attention to her, and Jesse relaxed slightly even as she continued to make her way down the corridor, although she felt distinctly out of place in the dark green roll-tab button down and russet t-shirt that she was wearing, especially when everyone else seemed to be wearing scrubs and lab coats.

It seemed almost like there weren't actually any normal people here, which was really kind of creepy. Usually you saw people going back and forth, doing various things like relaying news on their cell phone or getting something to eat as they waited for news of their loved ones. Instead, there was maybe one other person who walked past her wearing street clothes. Everyone else was just another doctor or nurse, with maybe the occasional patient being wheeled by in a wheelchair or on gurney.

It was almost like nobody here was actually real.

Jesse shuddered slightly at the thought and increased her pace. Whatever this place was, she wanted out, and she wanted out now. Even if it seemed like there was nothing wrong with the place, something about it just didn't sit right with her. In a way, the setting seemed kind of familiar, like she had seen it somewhere before. Then again, the entire setup just creeped the ever-loving shit out of her, and she had no clue why.

And then, as if the whole 'appearing in a random hospital' thing wasn't freaky enough, everyone around her just suddenly froze in their spots. Jesse froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat as she stared incredulously at the nurse in front of her who had just stopped, somehow impossibly frozen right in the middle of the act of slipping on an expanse of freshly-mopped tile. It looked like the woman, who couldn't have been much older than she was, had just been in the middle of the act before someone hit the 'pause' button on a remote.

The only problem with that little analogy was the fact there was none of the typical fuzziness on the 'screen' that would indicate towards something being paused.

Jesse glanced around her frantically, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she stared at the still figures around her in horror before she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of movement down at the other end of the hallway. She immediately took off running down the sterile corridor, heading away from the movement as fast as she could.

Common sense dictated that if everyone else was frozen and she wasn't, if something was moving asides from her, there were usually some pretty decent odds that it probably wasn't anything good. Adrenaline flooded her veins as she whipped through another hallway full of still figures, and she couldn't help the slightly panicked whimper that escaped from the back of her throat. This was like a bad dream; she didn't dare look back, because she was afraid that if she did she'd see that everyone who'd been frozen would be chasing after her.

Finally, Jesse burst out into the lobby area of the hospital, and she immediately streaked towards the sliding doors that led out of the freaky building. She was too intent on getting the hell out of Dodge to notice the startled "Hey!" that her sudden appearance provoked from a small group of men that was standing close to the entrance of one of the hallways. Right then, she could have cared less about whether or not there were people who weren't frozen in that stupid place. All that mattered was her getting the hell out of there.

There was only one problem with that plan; the door that led to the outside was closed, and apparently just as frozen in whatever creepy little time-lock the place was in as the people were. Unfortunately, that thought didn't occur to Jesse until she was only about four or five feet away from the door, and still doing her impression of a bat out of Hell.

"Crap!' she yelped as she tried to skid to a stop, only to slip on a trail of water that ended right in front of the sliding doors, most likely tracked in from people coming in from outside, where it was pouring rain. She crashed to the floor face-first in a truly painful and spectacular manner only a foot away from the door – more than close enough to set off the motion detector – and let out a pained groan as her elbows and forearms started to shriek in protest at the movement. Yeah, that was definitely gonna leave a mark.

"Ow, dammit, ow," the woman hissed as she propped herself up on her forearms, wincing as the movement pulled at already-developing bruises, before she glared at the automatic door. It hadn't even budged. "Stupid door."

A low chuckle came from somewhere behind her before the person grabbed her by the back of her backpack and hauled her up to her feet. Jesse grinned faintly as she turned around to thank the person who had helped her up – even if this was some weirdo dream, it couldn't hurt to be polite – and froze. The grinning, impish face of the man who had hauled her to her feet was one that she recognized almost instantly, and she immediately recoiled, ripping herself free from his grasp.

"What the bloody hell?" she demanded as her back slammed up against the still-unmoving doors, eyes wide as she gaped incredulously at… Richard Speight Jr? Okay, this was definitely a dream. Weirder than some of her normal dreams – actually, scratch that. None of her dreams were ever normal. They always seemed to be weird, probably from her severely over reactive imagination.

But this? This was… different.

Jesse cautiously glanced over at the two men who were still standing numbly by the hallway entrance, and paled slightly before she managed to give a strained grin. Yep, she was right. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki were standing over in the same spot, staring in her general direction with almost twin expressions of shock. She frowned slightly as she looked at the two men, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, before she shook her head and returned her attention back to the man who was standing right in front of her.

"Hello," he chirped brightly, a grin on his face even as he stared unnervingly at her. "So, where did you come from?"

Jesse blinked in surprise before she wordlessly reached up and pointed towards the hallway that she had come barreling out of not even a few minutes before. The man gave her an almost insulted look in response, one that plainly said 'I knew that'.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said suddenly, and Jesse stared at him curiously before she caught the flicker of irritation that flashed through his eyes. An odd sinking feeling suddenly developed in the pit of her stomach and she tried to dart off to the side, to where her back wasn't pressed up against the wall, only to be brought up short by the hand that suddenly wrapped itself around her left upper arm in an iron grip. "Now tell me where you came from."

"ASU." The answer slipped from her mouth without even thinking, the majority of her brain far more occupied with the fact that every survival instinct she possessed was screaming at her to run like hell.

The grip on her arm tightened, and there was a sharp intake of breath as Jesse gritted her teeth to keep from either yelping or swearing, flinching automatically even as she tried to pull away from the man. That hurt. Dreams weren't supposed to hurt, not like that. Not unless she was somehow digging her fingers unto her own arm while she was asleep. But if she was, why hadn't anyone woken her up yet?

"Schise," she finally hissed, a single nagging thought coming to mind as she stared at the man who was still digging his fingers unrelentingly into her upper arm. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

Amber-green eyes crinkled in amusement even as the man – was he really a man, or something else entirely? – tilted his head to the side slightly in an almost birdlike gesture.

"Why do you think that?" he asked cheerfully. Jesse gave him a look that plainly conveyed her thoughts of 'you can't be serious' even as she smiled nervously.

"'Cause this is… pretty weird, even for one of my dreams," she admitted. "Of course, if this isn't a dream, then my only other option is that I've gone insane." She pulled a face at the thought. "Insanity… yeah, not fun. I'd like to skip that, if at all possible."

The grin from the man widened even as he released Jesse from his grasp. She immediately backed up, eyeing the smirking male warily before she started to look for an exit. Usually if you questioned something in a dream, you woke up, right? So why wasn't that happening?

"Hey kiddo." Jesse's head jerked up in surprise as she stared at the man – Trickster, her mind nagged incessantly – and flinched slightly at the considering look on his face. Something told her that wherever this was going, it was not gonna be fun. "What makes you think that this is a dream?"

Jesse looked at him in confusion, and the man smirked before he flicked his hand at her. Without any sort of warning whatsoever, the ground beneath her feet felt like it was literally ripped out from under her, sending the young woman crashing to her knees. Polished white tile met kneecaps with a sharp 'crack', and Jesse let out a loud cry of pain even as she curled in on herself, her eyes watering with pain.

"Merde, kuso, schise, frickin'… ow," she gritted out through clenched teeth, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the glaringly white sneakers that were on the Trickster's feet. Okay, that had definitely felt real.

"Still think this is a dream?" the demi-god's voice asked in a lightly teasing tone from somewhere above her, and Jesse managed to force herself up into a crouching position even as her knees shrieked in agony. She would not kneel in front of this arrogant bastard, not if this was indeed what she thought this was.

"No, now I think I'm in serious need of some psychiatric help," she managed to state flatly, her tone sharp even as she gingerly maneuvered herself into a standing position. At the slightly amused look that she received in response, she bristled visibly. "Don't you look at me that way, you condescending prick! I'm standing here in a freaking fictional hospital, getting into an argument with a bloody television character about whether or not I'm dreaming!"

The Trickster opened his mouth to say something, but Jesse interrupted him as she backed away, shaking her head in blatant denial as she brought her hands up clapped them over her head, pulling back her bangs as she did so.

"This isn't real," she insisted, the heels of her palms digging into the sides of her skull as she continued to back up. "I'm hallucinating, or going crazy, or something. You're not real. None of this is real! It can't be real!"

"Oh, believe me sister, I feel for you there," a low voice muttered from somewhere off to her right, and Jesse whipped around to stare at the man who had spoken. It was Jensen Ackles… no, Dean Winchester. If the man that she was currently arguing with was the Trickster, then this guy had to be Dean. There was no other explanation.

Jesse flinched as she gaped at him before she said a single word that summed up pretty much everything.

"Crap."

A loud laugh rang out behind them, and Jesse turned back around to look at the Trickster, who was grinning energetically at them.

"Looks like De Nile isn't just a river now, huh?" he cracked as he gestured meaningfully at the young woman and the two men behind her. "So, I take it that you already know these two chuckleheads?"

Her jaw tightened as she scowled at the being. "No."

The Trickster actually pouted as he flung his arms out wide before he smirked at the three of them. "Well kiddies, looks like we'll be changing things around a little bit."

He favored Jesse with a challenging look, almost as though he was daring her to object. She just clamped her mouth shut and stood there, each of her hands wrapped tightly around the opposite elbow in a white-knuckled grip. In the small corner of her mind that was still capable of rational though, even as the rest gibbered senselessly in fear, she realized that this was real. The shrieking pain of her kneecaps wouldn't allow her to think anything else.

"Since the two muttonheads who went and broke the world have now come crawling to me to help sweep up their mess, we're gonna play a little game." The cheery smile on the Trickster's face was firmly at odds with the sinking feeling in Jesse's gut. "Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."

"Survive what?" Dean asked, and Jesse jerked in surprise as she realized that the man had come up right behind her. The Trickster actually looked offended by his question.

"The game," he said meaningfully, his tone strongly implying 'you idiot' as he gestured broadly to their surroundings.

"What game?"

"You're in it."

Jesse gave the Trickster a stunned and horrified glance before she buried her face in her hands and groaned. This was not going to end well, she knew that much already.

"How do we play?" Dean queried, and the Trickster shrugged enigmatically in response.

"You're playing it," he said in a falsely thoughtful manner. Jesse looked up at him and barely managed to bite back the comment of 'Are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?' that she so badly wanted to use. At this point, keeping her mouth shut was her best option. The less she revealed that she knew, the better.

"What are the rules?"

The Trickster merely smirked and wiggled his eyebrows in a purely aggravating manner before he just fizzed out, kind of like a burst of static on a television screen. Everyone started moving again, and Jesse was left standing next to two very confused men in dark blue scrubs and white lab coats. She stared out at the suddenly busy hospital for a few moments, obviously trying to think of something logical, before she glanced over at the two men besides her. Two sets of green eyes stared back at her, one confused and slightly sympathetic, the other disbelieving.

For a second, she just looked at them, silently praying that this was all just a sick dream and that she'd wake up soon. Apparently whatever higher powers that might have been in the area weren't in a particularly charitable mood, because nothing happened. Finally, Dean stepped out in front of the woman and fixed her with an intimidating glare.

"And you are?" he asked pointedly, his tone indicating that if she answered wrong she'd be up Shit Creek before she could even say 'crud'. Jesse gave him a weak smile before she looked around her, taking in the clichéd chaos of Seattle Mercy Hospital.

"In deep, deep shit."

Hello all, and welcome to the wonderful mess of insanity that is Problem Girl. To make a long and very boring story short, I got really tired of all of the 'big-time Supernatural fan somehow finds themselves in the world of their favorite show, finds Sam and Dean, and becomes some hot-shot hunter in no time at all' stories out there. But here's the kicker – how many people do you actually know who wouldn't like the show once they were actually in it?

I also like to challenge myself by writing in a perspective that most people don't really consider. Well, that, and I bored.

So enjoy, and hopefully I'll see you all next chapter.