Safe and Sound

Cast

Aesthetics

Playlist

Season One

Season Two

Season Three

Season Four

Season Five

TBD...

Disclaimer

I do not own anything related to Supernatural. I only own my original characters. Warning: There will be mature content in this story, including: adult language, sexual scenes, and canon violence + gore.

There will be AU moments and story lines in this story.

This story features a medium burn.

This story features both Julia's point of view and Dean's point of view.

Julia was tossed onto the bed by Dean—he was careful of her healing wrist—her semi-naked body bouncing a couple times. She gasped and lifted her head, watching with dazed eyes as Dean pulled his t-shirt off his body, throwing it in the corner of their temporary room at Bobby's house.

"Uh-uh," Julia clicked her tongue, eyeing his jeans.

Dean rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt, sliding it from around his waist and letting it drop to the floor. "I was getting there."

"Sure."

"Keep talking," Dean stepped out his jeans and eagerly crawled onto the bed and over her. "I might have to punish you."

"Is that a promise?" she teased him; she reached up with her good arm and hooked around his neck. Pulling him only two inches away from her lips, she whispered, "Dean."

"Hmm?"

His green eyes were on her swollen lips, where his own had been only a moment before. She could feel his erection against her stomach and she hardly felt his bare chest against her.

She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. "Fuck me, Dean."

Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned, pressing an open mouth kiss against her sensitive flesh. She could feel his rough hands trailing from her ribs to her thighs, spreading them so he could fit between them. "With pleasure, shortcake."

Julia rolled her neck under the warm spray of the shower, trying to relax her muscles. Last night had been another night of rough sex and while she enjoyed it just as much as all the sex she had with Dean, so many nights in a row were killing her body in the mornings before she could get it warmed up with yoga or a run.

This morning was one of those days; she had woken up at five o'clock and met with Sam so the two of them could take a run while the sun came up. Sam would talk about John, airing all the grief and regret he had about his dad and Julia would listen and comforted him when he needed it, just like a best friend should do.

It had been a week since John Winchester died and they'd been at Bobby's ever since so Dean could work on his car. Beth, Taylor, and Lizzie had stayed for a couple of days, too. They picked them—and John's body—up at the hospital and drove straight to Bobby's house, staying at one of the motels in town while Julia, Dean, and Sam stayed with Bobby. Sam was a wreck, though having Lizzie there for a couple of days distracted him from his grief, and Dean was worse.

It wasn't that he was having crying meltdowns—come on, it's Dean—but instead, he had stayed stone quiet at any mention of his dad. He didn't talk about John and he would walk away if anyone mentioned him—especially Sam.

Not that it matters, but that's what would lead to the rough sex Julia and Dean had been having. He took all of his frustrations out on her—being careful not to hurt her, of course—and Julia would let him. John had just died and if sex is what would make Dean feel better, she was all for it. Of course, she wished he would just open up but Dean wasn't that kind of guy. She stood by his side, though, doing whatever she could to help him process his grief.

When Julia and Sam were done with their jog at six, Dean was already up working in the junkyard. He had been getting up earlier than usual to fix up the Impala. It had been absolutely wrecked in the accident—and according to Bobby wasn't worth the time to fix it—but Dean was determined to fix Baby back up. Both of them muttered a good morning to Dean, but he just grumbled back, sliding under the car to fix whatever damage had happened there.

From there, Julia and Sam separated. Sam went up to the guest shower to wash off and after he was down, Julia would get a turn. While Sam was taking his time in the shower, she would make breakfast just as Bobby would wake up. It had been their schedule since they arrived a week earlier.

Hearing her stomach growl, Julia rinsed out of the rest of conditioner in her hair and turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, inhaling deeply to get a whiff of bacon once again. She quickly dressed in some leggings and a long tank-top before heading downstairs.

Dean was still outside but Bobby and Sam were seated at the kitchen table, eating their breakfast with vigor.

"How's the breakfast?" she announced her presence as she walked into the kitchen, heading straight toward the cheddar and bacon quiche with a biscuit crust she had made.

"This is great, sweetheart," Bobby smiled at her as she served herself a piece and sat in her usual seat between Dean's chair—it was empty at the moment—and Bobby's chair. "Thank you."

Julia waved him off with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, thanks, J, it's good," Sam added.

"Thank you," she took a bite of her quiche and sighed, enjoying the flavor. "Did Dean eat?"

Bobby nodded. "He shoved a slice down his throat and went back outside. He told us to tell you thank you."

"Did he say anything else?" she prodded. "Maybe about John or how he's feeling?"

"No," Sam answered her this time. "But I found an old voicemail on Dad's phone and I think it's something we could check out. I'm gonna go talk to him after I finish eating."

Julia nodded. "Okay. What did the voicemail say?"

"It was a voicemail from Ellen," Bobby told her, giving her a pointed look.

"Ellen Harvelle? As in Jo Harvelle?"

Bobby nodded.

"So you know her, too?" Sam turned to Julia with curious eyes; Julia nodded. "How?"

"I've never met them personally but Abby talks about them all the time," she explained. "Abby hooks up with Ellen's daughter, Jo, from time to time, so—"

"Abby hooks up with the daughter?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "I didn't know she was bisexual."

Julia shrugged, knowing that some people may judge her sister for her sexuality but she wasn't one of them. People could love the people that they loved; she wasn't bothered by it and she proclaimed herself a proud ally for her sister. "She doesn't hide it."

"Oh," Sam hummed before shrugging casually. "Anyway, do you know why Ellen would call my dad?"

"I have no idea," Julia's eyes flickered over to Bobby. "Don't they own that bar?"

"The Roadhouse, yeah," Bobby finished the rest of his food and stood up, taking the plate to the sink. "I'll get you the address."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam gave the older man a grateful look as he left the room; he then turned back to Julia. "I'm going to talk to Dean. Want to come with?"

"No, it's okay," Julia insisted. She wanted the brothers to have a minute by themselves; usually they were together all the time and she knew that the Winchesters needed a break from her once in a while—the same went for her, too. "You go on."

Sam nodded and went outside to talk to Dean. Even from the kitchen, where she finished her meal and started the dishes, she could feel Sam and Dean's energies clashing together. Sam was sad for his father and annoyed with Dean while Dean was guilty and angry. Each boy had more than two emotions racing around in their auras but these were the two that she could feel the strongest.

Three hours later, they were on the road in one of Bobby's cars—a minivan that hardly drove past sixty miles per hour, which was a nightmare to Dean, and had no backseat so Julia had to sit on a sheet on the dirty floor.

-

For some reason, a five-hour trip turned into something much longer. They arrived at the Roadhouse a little before sunrise the next day and by the time they parked out in front of the run-down bar, Dean was severely annoyed with the van and so on edge that Julia and Sam felt like if they said one word, he'd blow up—it wasn't the best way to travel.

Dean turned off the van with a huff, got out of his seat and opened the sliding door so Julia could get out (the sliding door happened to not have a handle on the inside, which aggravated the crap out of her). "This is humiliating!" he slammed the sliding door shut once Julia was safely out of the way. "I feel like a fuckin' soccer mom!"

Julia exchanged a half-amused, half-annoyed look with Sam as she adjusted her Nike shorts. She didn't understand how Sam and Dean could wear multiple layers of clothing in the hot weather and not die of heat exhaustion.

Sam tried to placate his brother. "It's the only car Bobby had running."

Julia stuck next to Dean in the front of the building as Sam wandered to the side.

"Hello?" he called. "Anybody here?"

Dean rattled the doorknob and when it wouldn't budge, he turned to Julia. "Shortcake, do you have the—"

"Yup!" Julia exclaimed, digging her hand into her drawstring bag and pulling out one of their beloved lockpicks.

Dean gave her a grateful smile and a promising wink as he took them from her. Julia could practically feel the flush in her cheeks, though the hot air around her made her feel the same, temperature wise. Dean finished up picking the lock and handed the tools back to her as he cautiously opened the door.

Julia hadn't seen many bars at the side of the road but the Roadhouse met her expectation of what they would be like. It was an open room filled with dark, dusty wood—tables, chairs, the bar—a pool table, and a jukebox in the corner by the door. Somehow, it was still cute and homey.

Julia let the door close behind her and followed the Winchester brothers further into the large room, looking around at the bottles of alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, the numerous tables, and...yeah, there was a guy passed out on the pool table.

"Hey, buddy?" Sam tried to wake him up as they all drew nearer; the man simply snored, unaware of the three people watching him. "Yeah, I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

Dean scoffed under his breath. "No kidding."

Julia wandered off and Sam joined her while Dean stuck near the pool table. She had just walked off the mini platform that the table was on when she felt the head of a gun prod the small of her back.

"Dean," she squeaked. "Please tell me that it's you behind me and not a rifle."

There was a second of silence and then there was the cock of a gun behind her. Okay, shit, it was a rifle.

"Okay, we're not breaking in—I mean, we did break it but it's for a good reason—"

"Don't move," a woman's voice came from behind her.

"Yeah, okay, I won't move," she agreed quickly.

From his place next to the pool table, a knife pressed against his throat and a warm body against his back, Dean shook his head. He'd have to give her some more training on hostage situations. She was talking too much—as usual—and playing right into the kidnapper's hands.

He looked over to Sam, who was being held by another woman—this one older than the blonde that held her gun against Julia's back—and then back to Julia. "Jules!"

When she looked over at him, he silently tried to tell her to do the move he showed her a couple weeks ago, but he didn't need to. A familiar voice spoke behind him. "Jules, is that you? Can somebody turn on the damn lights?"

Julia recognize that voice anywhere. "Abby," Julia sighed as Abby let go of Dean; he sent her a glare and quickly took the knife from her hand, earning himself an apologetic look. "Thank God."

"Wait, this is your sister?" the older woman behind Sam asked. "Then the boys must be Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Yes, I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister, and that's Sam and Dean," Julia said quickly. "So, can you please put down your guns?"

The girl behind Julia dropped her rifle and walked to the nearest light switch, bathing the room with light. Julia first looked over at her sister—who was standing beside Dean wearing only a camisole and boy shorts—then at the blonde—who was only a couple inches taller than herself and wearing pajamas like Abby—and then at the older woman—who was lowering her gun from behind Sam's back.

"Son of a bitch," the older woman mumbled, putting the gun back on safety and setting it down on the board. Her mood lifted as she chuckled, introducing herself to Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Hey, I'm Ellen and this is my daughter, Jo."

Julia smiled at her in greeting and then turned to Jo. Jo was one of Abby's closest friends. They hooked up a bit and she had heard her sister gush over her all the time. By the way Jo was giving her an apologetic look, she assumed she had a good heart—and she was super pretty, too.

"I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister," she introduced herself, pulling Jo into a hug that made her stiffen in shock. "Sorry, most of my family are huggers," she let go, not wanting to make the blonde uncomfortable. Then she gestured to her sister, "Except that one."

"It's nice to meet you," Jo smiled softly. "Abby talks about you all the time."

"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you, too," Julia laughed and then turned to her sister, who was apologizing to Dean about something; then she saw the nick on Dean's throat. "Excuse me for a second," she told Jo before walking over to her boyfriend and sister. "Abby, what the hell?"

Abby put her hands in the air, defensive. "I didn't know who he was!"

"You've known Dean since you were born," Julia pointed out. "How do you not recognize him?"

"It was dark?" Abby's statement came out as a question. "Look, it was an accident."

Julia rolled her eyes at her sister—she was so much like Dean; shoot first ask questions later—and grabbed Dean's hand, squeezing it tightly. He returned her action as she dragged him over to where Sam and Ellen were talking. "Hi, ma'am, I'm Julia. It's great to meet you."

"You, too, sweetheart," Ellen smiled down at her.

"Do you happen to have a first aid kit?" Julia wondered, gesturing to Dean, who was holding his hand against the small cut on his throat just above his collar bone.

"Of course."

Within minutes, Dean and Sam introduced themselves to Ellen and Jo, they had sat down at the bar, and Julia was cleaning up Dean's cut and sticking a bandage over it.

"So," Dean turned to Ellen for answers about the voicemail she left John. "You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen shrugged casually. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean asked, scoffing in annoyance; he didn't like to have his business out there so everyone could know. "I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

Julia spared at look at Abby, who smiled mischievously at her. Abby had always loved when Dean lost his temper for whatever reason. It just always brought a smile to her face; Dean absolutely hated when she did it and would just get angrier, which led to more amusement on her part. It was an endless routine that always had Julia annoyed. But, at that moment, Julia took Abby's smile to mean that she was the one who told Ellen what John and Luke were up to.

Julia shook her head at her.

"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen held up her hands, showing she meant no harm. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean snarked back at her. "How come he never mentioned you before?"

Julia elbowed his bicep, whispering sharply, "Dean!"

He didn't really relax like he usually did; he kept his sharp eyes on Ellen, watching as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You'd have to ask him that."

Dean fell quiet for a second, looking back at Julia with sad eyes. Julia softened the annoyed look on her face and gave him a sympathetic look; he was lashing out because his dad was gone and suddenly there was a lady out of nowhere that knew his dad without him knowing it.

Dean's lips quirked at her before he turned back to Ellen. "So, why exactly do we need your help?"

"Hey, don't do me any favors," Ellen sassed back. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." she trailed off in realization. "He didn't send you. He's all right, isn't he?"

It was quiet for a second before Sam spoke, "No, no he isn't," he told her while Julia took Dean's hand. "It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."

Ellen frowned sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Dean told her gruffly as Julia rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "We're all right."

"Really, I know how close you and your dad were," Ellen said somberly.

"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean bristled, his voice hardening.

Ellen didn't seem to mind his attitude for the moment but that didn't mean that Julia or Sam wanted Dean to continue to make things hostile.

"So, look," Sam changed the topic of conversation. "if you can help, we could use all the help we can get."

"Well, we can't," Ellen glanced at Jo before looking back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "but Ash will."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Ash?"

Ellen nodded and raised her voice. "Ash!"

The man who was still passed out on the pool table jerked awake, shaking his head—his blonde mullet swishing with every move—before turning around to look at Ellen. "What?" he grunted loudly. "Closing time?"

Julia looked back at Jo, Ellen, and Abby. "That's Ash?"

"Mmhm," Jo nodded while Abby smirked. "he's a genius."

-

Sam dropped the thick file—the one full of information that John and Luke had gathered on the yellow-eyed demon within the past year—on the bar in front of Ash. Julia watched Ash as she sat in between Abby and Sam at the bar, examining his energy—it was full of light with a happy-go-lucky attitude. Meanwhile, Dean stood on the other side of Sam, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at Ash.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean scowled. "This is guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."

Ash chuckled at Dean. "I like you."

"Thanks."

Julia rolled her eyes at Dean's flat tone while Jo moved from her place at the side of the bar, where she was filling up glasses of water, and brought them over to Sam and Julia.

"Just give him a chance," she advised Dean.

Dean hesitated and Julia caught him looking at her. She pointedly moved her eyes toward Ash and cocked her head only a little but Dean got the gist; he sighed and sat down next to Sam, facing Ash.

"All right," he pushed the file over to Ash. "This stuff is about a year's worth of our dad and Luke Alexander's work. So, uh, let's see what you make of it."

Ash didn't respond to Dean's challenging smirk. Instead, he opened up the file and quickly started sorting through the papers. "Come on," he shook his head. "This shit ain't real. There ain't nobody who can track a demon like this."

"They could," Abby assured Ash while Sam and Dean exchanged a proud look. Ash cocked his head thoughtfully. "My dad is an expert in demons. Runs in the family."

"These are nonparametrics, statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean...damn," Ash said in appreciation. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon."

"Like crop failures and electrical storms?" Julia hummed curiously.

Ash looked over at her and winked. "You ever been struck by lightning?" he asked her, a twinkled in his eyes. "It ain't fun."

Seeing the way his brother stiffened, Sam got Ash back on track. "Can you track it or not?"

Ash nodded. "Yeah, with this, I think so but it's gonna take time. Uh, give me..." he paused to think, one of his eyes closing. "uh, fifty-one hours."

Julia smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ash."

"No problem, sweetheart," Ash stood from his stool and started heading to the back, where Abby told her the bedrooms were located.

"Hey, man," Dean called after him, voice tense, causing Ash to turn around to face him. Dean faltered, seeing that the man had no true intensions with Julia, "I, uh, dig the haircut."

"All business up front," Ash pointed to the short hair toward the front of his head before flicking the longer hair from his shoulders. "party in the back."

Julia giggled when the door closed behind him. "I like him."

"Ash is, like, a ditzy lab with amazing tech skills," Abby nodded in agreement.

Julia hummed and hopped off her stool. "I'm gonna check out the jukebox."

Abby waved her off and she wandered away from the bar and to the jukebox in the front. She flipped through the tiles, smiling and gasping excitedly when there were a couple of eighties love songs she liked, as a warm hand slid around her waist.

"Find anything good?" Dean asked as he looked down at the jukebox screen.

"A couple," Julia looked up at him with a sweet smile that he returned. "All Out of Love, Faithfully, Can't Fight This Feeling..."

Dean's smile slipped, turning into a small grimace when she listed some of the titles. He was fully aware that Julia liked the cheesy love songs from the previous couple of decades. They were all on her iPod and she played them once in a while when Dean allowed her to pick the music—he didn't like them but he sure did love the way her face light up when she listened to them. Her favorite of the songs was, of course, Hungry Eyes. The girl watched Dirty Dancing every week without fail.

But it was kind of funny to him that she liked Hungry Eyes the most. It described the two of them and their relationship pretty closely. Whenever he looked at Julia, he got hungry eyes—whether it was sexual, loving, or emotional, it didn't matter. He always wanted Julia in every way.

"No Hungry Eyes?" he clicked his tongue, faking his disappointment.

"Nope," she didn't catch onto his acting. "Don't worry, though, I can just sing it. I've been meaning to tell you! I've got this feeling that won't subside—oof!"

Dean had put his hand to her mouth, cutting off any more lyrics that trembled in her not-so-amazing singing voice. He laughed when she giggled and pulled his hand off, kissing his palm before dropping it.

"Oh, so you're ashamed of my singing, huh?"

"Not just your singing, shortcake. I'm not so hot at it, either," Dean reminded her; it was true and if she really got going, he wouldn't be able to resist joining in with her.

He hated to admit it but the song was kind of catchy.

Back at the bar, Sam and Abby—who moved over to Julia's seat—spoke quietly, were catching up. She had just been telling him about the picture Beth emailed her from the Fourth of July, when his gaze fell to the police radio behind the bar, a thin folder beside it. He quickly apologized to Abby for changing the subject and then caught Ellen's attention.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?"

Ellen followed his gaze. "It's a police thing," she told him, continuing to fill up the containers of salt for the tables. "We keep tabs on things—"

"No, no," Sam interrupted politely, pointing to the file. "The folder."

Ellen hesitated for a second then walked over folder. "Uh, I was gonna give this to Abby..."

"He can take a look at it," Abby smirked, knowing that Sam was terrified of clowns. She took the folder from Ellen and slid it over to Sam. "Let me know what you make of it."

"Thanks," Sam opened the folder as Abby slipped away from the bar to where Jo was wiping off a table.

Sam went through the contents of the file, quickly skimming over each paper he picked up. When he finished, he called out for Dean and Julia, who were still by the jukebox, heads close together as they laughed. "Dean, J, come check this out!"

At the sound of her name, Julia pulled away from Dean and looked over at Sam, who was waving at them from the bar. She ignored Dean's sigh with a light smirk and linked their hands, pulling him over to see what Sam was looking at.

"Yeah?" Dean grumbled.

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of," Sam informed them, showing them the research. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"Yeah," Dean raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So, I told her we'd check it out—"

"And you're not going without me," Abby interjected, bounding toward her little sister and the Winchester brothers. "Let me pack my stuff and we can go."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, let's not—" he grunted when Julia poked him in the ribs, glaring up at him; Abby sent him the same look. "We'll wait outside."

"Good. We'll take my car."

-

"A clown?" Julia clicked her tongue, taking the file that Sam handed back to her and opening it up. "A killer clown?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what I said, Jujube," Abby rolled her eyes from the driver's seat of her Ford Explorer before focusing back on the road. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to shreds."

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked.

Julia's eyes flickered to the top of the printed article she was reading. "Cooper Carnivals."

"So, Gail, how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

Abby glared at him through the rearview mirror. "Don't call me that, Deanna."

"Hey, now!"

Julia rolled her eyes and though she couldn't see Sam, she knew he was, too. Abby and Dean were never best friends growing up like she and Sam were. They acted like siblings who couldn't stand one another. It came from love, sure, but it could be a little annoying sometimes.

"The cops have no viable leads, Dean," Sam sighed before they could really get going. "and all the employees were tearing down shop."

"Alibis for each of them."

Sam agreed with Julia while Abby added, "Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

Dean hummed. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam," he chuckled. "Why did it have to be clowns?"

"That's right!" Abby exclaimed, joining Dean in laughter. "Oh, my God, do you remember that time we went to Mickey D's and Ronald McDonald came out to visit the kid's play place and Sam peed his pants?"

Seeing the severely annoyed look on Sam's face, Julia had the sense to hold in her laughter. Her stomach hurt and her eyes stung but she did it. Dean, however, was howling with gut-bursting laughter. It was nice to see that bright smile on his face.

"After that, he'd burst out crying every time he saw a McDonald's commercial!"

"Oh, come on!" Sam protested weakly; when Julia couldn't help but join in, he shot back, "At least I'm not afraid of flying, or spiders," he pointed at Julia and then Abby. "or horses."

"Planes crash!"

"Spiders are poisonous!"

"Wait, wait," Dean caught up, shaking his head. He leaned forward and dipped to the side so he could see Abby's face from his spot next to Julia. "You're afraid of horses?"

Julia snickered while Abby scoffed. "We were talking about Sam's ridiculous clown phobia, remember?"

Julia shook her head and patted Sam's arm soothingly. "Don't worry, S, your phobia is valid. Apparently clowns do kill."

"Thank you, J," he gave Dean a pointed glare which had his brother chuckling again.

"All right," Dean calmed down. "So, these types of murders, have they ever happened before?"

"It's in the file," Abby told him, turning on the windshield wipers as they drove into some light rain. "Take it away, Julia."

"Yeah, the file says it happened in 1981," Julia hummed. "at the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. Three different times, three different places."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "That's weird, though. I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know? A house or a town."

"So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam wondered.

"Maybe it's a cursed object," Abby chewed on her lip. "A spirit attached itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them."

"Great. It's a paranormal scavenger hunt."

"This case was your idea," Dean reminded his brother. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

Julia wrinkled her nose uncomfortably and faced her foggy window. She was all for the brothers sharing how they felt with each other but lately, Dean had been too irritable. He didn't like those kinds of chick-flick moments, anyway, but after his dad died, he'd been avoiding them more than ever. Especially because Sam kept pushing him about dealing with his grief.

Abby kept quiet as well, not wanting to intrude on the brothers' business.

Sam shrugged. "So?"

"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know, I just think this job...it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean scoffed, looking at Sam in disbelief.

Oh, God, please don't let this turn into another fight, Julia pleaded mentally.

"Yeah, so?" Sam looked back at him, daring him to say something."

Dean shook his head and turned away from his brother. "Nothing."

-

Julia rubbed her nails over Dean's scalp, making sure that the shampoo she had applied for him was getting his hair nice and clean. They struggled in the small shower-bathtub combo and Dean had to get on his knees in order for her to even reach his hair in the first place, but they made it work.

"It's what Dad would have wanted," Dean repeated Sam's words with a scowl, holding onto her hips for balance. "He didn't give a fuck what Dad wanted a week ago."

Julia hummed to show that she was listening as she went toward the front of his head, rubbing the soap into his sideburns.

"He didn't even want to hunt," he went on. "He got out and he said he wanted to get out again! What, Dad dies and now he's wanting to carry on the family business all of a sudden?"

"I don't think that's it, babe. Here, lean your head back," she gestured toward the water; Dean did as he was told and rinsed his hair. "Sam's grieving just like you are. If hunting is what helps him deal with the fact that your dad's gone, then let him."

"I know," Dean grumbled, getting to his feet and switching places with Julia. "No, no, you need to stand—yeah, that's fine—I get it but it just bugs me."

Julia frowned sympathetically and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. "I'm sorry that you're going through this, Bean."

The corner of Dean's lips quirked only a little. "It's not your fault, shortcake," he murmured, bowing his head to press a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. It wasn't sexual in nature, just loving. "You're helping me."

Her heart melting, Julia grinned when she saw that he had some excess soap on his nose. She stood on her tiptoes to wipe it off. "You're adorable."

"I'm not adorable," he pouted, making her giggle.

"I beg to differ, hotshot."

After Julia and Dean were dried off and dressed, they met up with Sam and Abby in the room next door before heading over to the local fairgrounds, where Cooper Carnivals was located for the week. Detectives were already on the scene when they arrived, forcing them to rethink their plan of faking police.

Dean went to talk to the detectives, so Julia, Sam, and Abby waited by the Tilt-a-Whirl that was being set up. A short woman dressed as a clown had walked by and she and Sam had the most awkward—and hilarious—showdown with their eyes . It lasted what felt like a whole two minutes, with Julia and Abby snickering at Sam, before the woman smirked at him and walked away.

Dean, who was walking back to them, had seen the whole thing. "Did you get her number?"

Sam scowled at him while Julia wheezed, her chest aching from lack of breath. Abby slapped her arm to get her to stop, a cheesy grin on her face, and addressed Dean, "Were there more murders?"

"Two more last night," Dean confirmed. "Apparently they were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown," Sam assumed.

Julia quirked an eyebrow and shared a look with Dean and Abby.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean told his brother. "anyway, the clown apparently vanished into thin air."

Abby hummed thoughtfully, biting her lip. "Looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything."

"It's bound to give off EMF," Dean said distractedly, looking around nearest carnival trailers. "We'll just have to scan everything."

"That's nice and inconspicuous."

Dean didn't respond to Sam's sarcasm with any of his own. "I guess we'll just have to blend in."

-

"You boys picked a hell of a time to join up," Mr. Cooper, the owner and boss of Cooper's Carnival, led Sam and Dean into his trailer. It was a tiny little thing with half of it being living space and the other half office space. Mr. Cooper gestured to his desk, where two chairs were waiting on the other side. "Take a seat."

A grin started to stretch across Dean's face as he took in the chairs; one of them, the closest to the door, was decorated to look like a clown. He didn't bother looking at his brother and rushed to the normal chair, pushing Sam away as he attempted to avoid the clown chair.

Dean smirked at Sam as Mr. Cooper finished, "We've got all kinds of local trouble."

"What do you mean?" he turned his attention back to the older man.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first," Mr. Cooper said casually. "So, you two ever worked the circuit before?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Sam confirmed solemnly, disturbed by his chair. "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."

Dean gave Mr. Cooper a fake smile. "Yeah."

"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper asked skeptically. "Ride jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?"

Dean had absolutely no idea what any of those jobs were. He bet that Abby or Julia would know, though. The Petersen women were smart like that. Unfortunately, it wasn't very realistic for four people to apply for jobs together as a group so they had to stay on the sidelines at the moment—Abby wasn't very happy about that.

"Yeah," Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess."

Mr. Cooper cocked his head knowingly. "You two have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

"Nope," Dean didn't try to bullshit his way around this. "but we really need the work...oh, and, uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady."

He chuckled to himself but quieted down when Sam gave him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.

"You see that picture?" Mr. Cooper pointed to a framed photo on the top of the filing cabinet next to his desk. "That's my daddy."

The guy in the photo looked exactly like Mr. Cooper. Too much like him, if you asked Dean.

Sam noticed the likeness, too. "You look just like him."

"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow until they outlawed them in most places," Mr. Cooper informed them. "Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess."

Honestly, if Dean was born different like that, he wouldn't do either. Two negative choices on either end didn't sound like a good way of living. Choosing between being laughed at for money or rotting away in a hospital? No, thank you. He was good.

"You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts. Always has been for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two?" Mr. Cooper leaned forward in his seat. "You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two-point-five kids. Live regular."

Their lives weren't normal and they would never be. Julia and Sam? They were the lucky spectrum of hunters who had a taste of a normal life. Most of them lived and breathed hunting and that included Dean. He didn't know how to do anything else.

He had a girl and Julia was one of the two most important people in his life. He was lucky to have her because most hunters aren't able to find a significant other who even understood the life, let alone someone who lived it. And kids? He still thought about the dream he had of Peter and Jonah but it was just that—a dream.

Even if he wanted that apple-pie life, it wouldn't happen. It wasn't in the cards for him.

He went to tell Mr. Cooper that but Sam beat him to it. "Sir, we don't want to go to school and we don't want regular. We want this."

Dean looked at Sam in complete shock. Sam had told him before their run-in with Yellow-Eyes and the death of their father that he intended to go back to Stanford when everything was over. Sam didn't want to hunt for the rest of his life, he made that clear. Now, all of a sudden, he didn't want to go back?

Dean stared at the gravel under his feet as he and Sam walked away from Mr. Cooper's trailer, contracts of employment in their pockets. "Huh."

"What?"

"That whole, uh, I-don't-want-to-go-back-to-school thing," Dean gestured to the trailer behind them. "Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?"

Sam hesitated.

"Sam."

"I don't know," Sam looked away from him, looking around at the rides that were now up and running for the day.

"You don't know?" Dean scoffed. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

Sam stopped walking only a few feet from the parking lot where Julia and Abby were waiting for them in the Explorer. "I'm having second thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

That made Dean pause. Sam had spent most of his life fighting with their dad and had taken off for almost four years, without any contact, and now he wanted to join the family business for good. Just because their dad died. It infuriated Dean that Sam was only now wanted to do what John had wanted him to do. It was too little, too late.

"Since when do you give a fuck what Dad wanted?" his voice hardened as he questioned his brother. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, okay?" Sam admitted. When Dean nodded knowingly; he must have had an irritated look on his face because Sam bristled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nah," Dean lied. "I don't have a problem at all."

He continued walking without another word, heading straight to Abby's vehicle. Julia rolled down the passenger window as he approached and he leaned his arms on it as he greeted them.

"Did you get the job?" she asked him with happy eyes.

He wished that he could maintain a quarter of the happiness that Julia always had within her. Maybe he wouldn't be a dick most of the time. Maybe he'd handle his dad's death better. Maybe he'd be actually able to talk about how he felt instead of keeping it bundled inside of him until he blew up. He wasn't that person, though, and that was okay. Julia was his person and she could be happy enough for the both of them.

"With benefits," he forced a smirk onto his face. "We start at noon."

"Nice," Julia smiled and leaned toward him. "Hey, did you happen to see if they had funnel cakes?"

"What's a carnival without funnel cake, Junior?"

-

-

It was hard to walk around the crowded carnival with full hands and eat funnel cake at the same time but somehow, Julia managed. With a yellow balloon tied around her wrist, a blow-up baseball bat and a small stuffed lion in the crook of her arm, and her cell phone pinned between her ear and shoulder, she was able to stuff the sugary deliciousness into her mouth while keeping an eye out for any suspicious clown activity and keeping in contact with Abby.

Half of Sam and Dean's shift had already gone by and none of them found anything. Sam and Dean had the EMF readers out and going while they picked up trash from the carnival goers but, according to Dean, they had canvased half the fairground and there was zip to show for it.

There was only so much to do at a carnival and Julia had done it all. She rode all the rides, going for the Tilt-a-Whirl and spinning strawberries five or six times, played a bunch of games while only winning twice, and had eaten at three different booths. Don't get her wrong, carnivals were exciting and she loved them as much as the next person but she was by herself after she and Abby split up in the second hour and now, she was growing bored.

"I'm passing the frozen lemonade stand now," Julia informed her sister, who was looking to meet up with her, as she passed the crowded booth.

"The one next to the deep-fried twinkies, the chili dogs, or the turkey legs?"

"Turkey legs—wait, there's deep-fried twinkies?" she wanted one of those. "Where?"

"By the Ferris wheel," Abby told her. "I don't think you need one of those, Jules."

"Sure I do," Julia didn't understand why she didn't need one. She liked snack cakes and if it was deep-fried? All the better. "I'm headed toward the Ferris wheel."

Before she could even turn back the way she came from, a calloused hand grabbed her elbow. She jumped and whirled around, about to drop her prizes and funnel cake to beat the person's ass, but faltered when she saw that it was Dean. He looked so cute dressed in his red carnival jacket.

"Oh, Dean's here," she said to Abby. "I'll call you back."

"Ugh, fine."

Dean grabbed the phone from in between her shoulder and head with a small smile, ending the call for her. "You look like you've been busy," he shoved the phone in his jeans so he could take a piece of her funnel cake. "Having fun?"

"I'm getting bored," she confessed. "Oh, I got you something."

Dean smirked teasingly at her. "Look at that, my girl won me a prize," Julia laughed and handed him the little stuffed lion. "Oh..."

Julia wrinkled her nose as she studied the almost blank look on Dean's face as he held the stuffed lion. "You can put it on your dashboard or, uh..." she hesitated. "or I can take it back if you don't want it."

"Of course I want it," Dean grinned at her and stuffed the lion into his jacket pocket. "I love it."

"You do?"

"Yes," Dean was careful not to jostle her enough so that she could drop her funnel cake or inflatable bat while he pressed his lips to hers quickly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Julia gave him another kiss before he could pull away fully. "So, have you found anything yet?"

"I haven't but Sam has," Dean told her. "Apparently there's a human skeleton in the fun house."

Julia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Any EMF?"

"No, but I was on my way to check when I ran into you," Dean gestured behind him with his thumb before grabbing another piece of her funnel cake. "Wanna head there?"

"Sure," Julia agreed.

Before they could even start walking in the direction of the fun house, they were stopped by Papazian, the blind knife-thrower that had teared into Dean while he was asking for directions for Mr. Cooper's trailer earlier that morning.

"What are you doing here, kid?"

Dean and Julia shared an alarmed look.

"I'm...I was just, uh, sweeping and taking my break," Dean struggled to answer him.

"Bull," Papazian wasn't having Dean's nonsense. "And what were you two talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?"

Julia furrowed her eyebrows while Dean looked at him in surprise, "Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control."

"Hey, we're a tight-knit group, we don't like outsiders," Papazian proclaimed. "And we take care of our own problems."

Julia stiffened when she felt the man's aura pulse angrily and darken drastically. Something was off about him.

Dean sized him up, finding an issue of what Papazian did say, rather than what he didn't. "We got a problem?"

Another flare of anger.

"You tell me, you're the one talking about human bones."

Dean hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What?"

"My brother, me, and our girlfriends—" Abby would get a kick out of that, Julia was sure. "—we're writing a book about them."

Papazian seemed to except that and went on his way. Julia stared after him, not liking his aura or the vibes he was giving off. He certainly didn't feel like a normal human being; he was dark and had a severe hunger.

Without noticing, she and Dean ended up at the funhouse, where Sam and Abby were waiting for them.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean grimaced. "Long story."

"Mommy, look at the clown!" a chirpy voice that could only belong to a little girl came from only a few feet away from them.

They all turned their attention to her, watching as the mom questioned where the clown was and when the little girl pointed to nothing, she hurried her daughter toward the parking lot. Once they were gone, Julia, Dean, Abby, and Sam exchanged knowing looks.

-

Julia finished typing her email to Beth, giving her a brief summary of how the boys were dealing with John's death and making sure to include video of her and Abby that told her, Taylor, Lizzie, and Maggie that they missed them. Once the email was sent, she started looking up supernatural creatures that dressed up as clowns.

She didn't think this was a spirit for two reasons. One, Sam and Dean had found no EMF, even on the skeleton from the fun house. And, two, something about Papazian gave her a bad feeling. Like worse than a common spirit usually did.

She shared her thoughts with Abby, who had stayed behind with her when Sam and Dean went to watch the little girl's house—in a totally not creepy way—and was currently cleaning her weapons on her and Sam's bed.

"All right, tell me again—"

"I told you, Abby," Julia rolled her eyes and looked away from her laptop. "I had a bad feeling about Papazian."

"So, what, you're Luke Skywalker now?" her older sister joked; Julia gave her an unamused look. "Okay, sorry. So, if you think that Papazian is behind this people-eating clown, what do you suppose it is?"

Julia grimaced. "Honestly, I was hoping you would know."

Abby shook her head with a laugh and climbed off her bed to settle next to Julia on hers. "Let me show you something."

Abby grabbed the computer from her pajama-clad lap and onto hers. She went to PSC's website and went to the employee section. That led them to another site where she maneuvered her way to a page where one of the links under IT tech brought them to a private website that they had to use a username and passcode to get in. It was that website that amazed Julia.

Similarly set up to PSC's website, this one had hunting items for sale like silver bullets and particular knives that a hunter might need and so on. There was a forum where hunters could post information that they've come across on hunts or if they needed a partner for a hunt, they could search there. And there was an online encyclopedia that was Julia's favorite, where each letter in the alphabet had sections that would list creatures under that letter and could lead you to more information.

She had no idea that the website had ever existed.

"How do I get in?" Julia asked. "Like, how do I get my own username and password?"

"I'll give Frank a call and have him add you, Dean, and Sam," Abby said casually. "He's the IT guy where you get the link."

"He works for us?" the picture of Frank made him seem like a very grumpy man who didn't play well with others.

"Kind of. He runs this site and he makes sure it's secure but he's pretty much a recluse," she hummed. "I think he knew Nana Rachel and Papa Isaac."

"Huh," Julia's maternal grandmother, Rachel, had died before she was born but her Papa Isaac was a great man. He was gone now, having died only a few years before her mother went.

Abby laughed lightly, rolling her eyes at her younger sister. "All right," she moved off of Julia's bed and went back to hers, starting up her own laptop. "Let's start narrowing down possibilities."

-

-

The sun had finally risen after two hours of hiding in a stolen car in the middle of nowhere, covered by a thicket of bushes so the police wouldn't be able to spot them. Their whole night blew; the mysterious apocalyptic clown had turned out not to be a spirit and it had definitely gotten away when the little girl screamed at their attack, alerting her parents to the fact that two strange men and a murderous clown were in their house.

They had run out quickly after that and had found a spot just out of town to stay hidden until dawn. Luckily, Dean wasn't left alone with Sam—well, he was but they were also on the phone with Julia and Abby in order to find out what this clown really was. All they knew so far was that the creature was corporeal, wasn't affected by salt, and could make itself invisible. So, thankfully, there was no talking of any kind about the death of John Winchester.

Unfortunately, now that Sam and Dean were beginning their trek heading back to the outskirts of town so that Julia and Abby could pick them up, they had plenty of time to talk. Unluckily enough for Dean, Sam did just that.

"Hey, uh, you think that Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

Dean was in no mood to talk about his dad—even if it wasn't about the subject of his death. It was hot out, the sun was searing the back of his neck, he was tired, and he was definitely hungry. The last thing he wanted to do was theorize about his father's flings.

"Nah."

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out."

That was something that John was actually consistent about; he always fell out with other hunters—Bobby wasn't the only one and if John was still alive, he certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "You ever notice how Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"

Dean nodded his head noncommittedly. There wasn't a need to answer. They both knew it was the truth and there wasn't a reason to hash out the fact that their father was a stubborn asshole who always thought that he was right.

Just thinking of John that way—even though he had those kinds of thoughts a lot while he was alive—made him nauseous. His dad was dead and here he was, thinking bad of him. This was why he didn't want to think about John. Because there was too much to think about. If he thought about how his dad treated him while he grew up, or how he didn't have a childhood because of him—or how he missed out on so much in life, the suspicion around his restored health just before his dad died, or about the last words John said to him—he would break down. And he couldn't. He wasn't that person.

He wouldn't be that person.

Sam noticed his melancholy mood. "Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."

Dean shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

"I meant this strong-silent thing of yours. It's crap and I'm over it—"

"Oh, God," Dean expressed his irritation before Sam was finished speaking.

"This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad," Sam said, annoyed. "I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, all right?" Dean snapped at him. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to—"

"No, no, no," Sam objected, cutting him off. "that's not what this about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Dude, I'm okay!" he raised his voice. "I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me."

Sam stopped walking and turned to Dean with a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad," Dean shot straight, unable to hold back his opinion of Sam's change of heart. "It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, fuck, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him."

Sam grimaced and yeah, Dean felt a little guilty about his heated words but if Sam wanted him to share his feelings, he was going to do it.

"And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right?" he continued. "Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late."

Sam's hazel eyes sparkled with tears. "Why are you saying this to me?"

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm dealing with Dad's death. Are you?"

Sam pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw, obviously fighting back the anger he felt at Dean. Dean wished that he wouldn't; maybe he wanted to get Sam mad, wanted him to fight back. Maybe physical pain would take his attention away from all that he was feeling.

"I'm going to call Abby," Sam finally said.

It was only when Sam had slumped away from him that Dean started to feel guilty. This was his little brother; he was supposed to protect him, not make him feel worse.

Twenty minutes later, he and Sam were sliding into the backseat of Abby's car, relaxing as cool air surrounded them. Without a word, Julia—who was taking the opportunity to sit shotgun—had handed them each a breakfast sandwich and some hash browns. Of course, it was McDonalds; Dean wasn't a fan of them but Julia loved their breakfast, especially the sausage, egg, and cheese bagel. He wasn't surprised to see that she had her bagel sandwich in her lap.

He smiled at her in thanks and immediately took a bite of his own sandwich.

"All right, so, I'm pretty sure this thing is a rakshasa," Abby spoke up as she started driving back to town.

"What's that?" Dean asked around a mouthful of food.

"It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures," she told him and Sam. "They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited."

"So, they dress up like clowns and the children invite them in," Sam assumed.

Both Abby and Julia nodded in response.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"No idea," Abby sighed, answering Dean's question. "Maybe there's not enough meat on their bones."

"Abby," Julia gave her sister a disapproving look, her face paling a little.

Abby shrugged nonchalantly.

"So, what else did you find out?" Sam wondered.

"Apparently, rakshasas live in squalor," Julia answered this time, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "They sleep on a bed of dead insects. And they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years."

"That makes sense," Dean nodded. "I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

Sam agreed, "Right, and probably more before that."

"All right," Dean clicked his tongue and looked toward the front of the car. "So, did the lore say how to kill this bastard?"

"A dagger made of pure brass," Abby smirked, tapping her fingers against her steering wheel, the red polish on her nails gleaming brightly in the sunlight. "Luckily, I have one in my collection."

"Good," Dean said decidedly. "Let's go gank the blind guy."

-

-

Julia didn't particularly like being in a bar full of other hunters. Something about it just made her stomach twist. Maybe it was because she hadn't worked with other hunters except Sam, Dean, Abby, John, and her father...or maybe it was because of the leering looks they gave Jo as she wandered around, giving them the pints of beer that they ordered. Honestly, she felt bad for the blonde; she had been on the receiving end of disgusting leers but never everyday all day. It had to be tiring.

Jo was a spitfire, though, and she could totally handle herself. That was what Julia liked the most about her, other than the fact that she was funny and easily kept up with Abby's banter. Abby wasn't the type to settle down with a boyfriend or girlfriend, but if she did, Jo had Julia's vote. The blonde was special and so was Ellen. They'd fit into the family great.

Ellen came over to her with a bottle of beer and a glass of soda in her hands just as the familiar weight of Dean's arm slid around her waist. He sat on the bar stool next to her and accepted the beer from Ellen with a grateful smile.

"You guys did one hell of a job," the older woman praised one half of their quartet.

Julia smiled at her and accepted her cola. "Thanks, Ellen."

Ellen backed off with a smile and went to dry some glasses. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean turned to her with a mischievous grin on his face. "I think your sister is chatting up Sam."

"Oh?" Julia gave him an excited look, though it was more for his benefit. She didn't really know how to feel about Abby and Sam hooking up. It wasn't because she didn't think they wouldn't make a great pair but Abby was a player and she didn't want her sister to hurt Sam, who was more emotionally intense when it came to stuff like that.

Dean nodded excitedly. "And I don't think she's the only one."

Julia gave him a confused look and glanced over his shoulder; at the other side of the bar, Sam sat with Abby and Jo on either side of him, both wearing flirtatious smiles.

Oh.

Julia coughed uncomfortably and placed her attention back on Dean, who still had that shit-eating grin on his face. "It's very weird that you're so excited about Sam's possible hook-ups."

Dean shrugged. "It's good to see him get back on the horse—or horses—heh-heh."

"Please don't refer to Abby and Jo as horses, D."

"Sorry," Dean shrugged, his eyes locking on the door that led to the resident area of the bar. "Look, there's Ash."

Ash walked over to them and set his laptop on the bar next to them. "Jules, Dean," he nodded at them and waved Sam over; Sam excused himself from Abby and Jo. "Where have you guys been? I've been waiting for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash," Sam came to stand behind Julia. "Clowns."

Ash gave him a you-have-to-be-shitting-me look. "Clowns? What the fuck?"

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked before he could go on a tangent.

Ash nodded and opened up his laptop, which was stripped down to wires, the hard drive, keypad, and screen. Julia guessed that he had built the computer himself because she was pretty sure you couldn't buy one of those. Jo did say he was a genius.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.

"It's nowhere around," Ash answered gravely. "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

Julia quirked an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig will go off," Ash explained and turned the laptop, showing them the screen; there was some type of radar and database pulled up. "Like a fire alarm."

Dean's eyes lit up as he looked over the computer; he reached for it and Ash stiffened, cocking his head. "Do you mind...?"

Ash clicked his tongue and the hand that Dean had almost put on the mouse slowly retreated.

"What's up, man?" Ash lifted his chin in a swift nod.

Julia grinned at Dean's pout while Sam asked, "Ash, where did you learn to do all of this?"

"MIT, before I got bounced for fighting," Ash answered casually.

Sam quietly scoffed in disbelief. "MIT?"

Ash nodded. "It's a school in Boston."

"I like you, Ash," Julia laughed as she reached for a high five from the genius blonde. "You're the best."

Ash returned the high-five sluggishly, though the crooked grin on his face gave away his friendliness. "You too, sweetcheeks."

"Okay," Dean said all too quickly. "give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre," Ash confirmed, taking Dean's bottle from in front of him and gulping down the rest.

The three of them got ready to leave. As Julia paid their tab, Ellen spoke up, "If you guys need somewhere to stay, we've got a couple of rooms in the back."

Dean exchanged looks with Julia and Sam before answering, "Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish."

Hours later, as the sun set, Dean was crouched down in front of the back-right tire of his baby, tightening the bolts of the new tire until they were just right. When he heard the gravel shift to his right, he didn't bother looking up. He knew it was Sam just from the gait of his steps.

Great, he grumbled to himself, another pep talk.

He finished with the tire and only then did he look up; Sam was standing behind the newly restored trunk, kind of huddled in on himself.

"You were right."

Dean stood up straight and walked around Sam in order to set his wrench back in the toolbox. "About what?"

"About me and Dad," Sam elaborated. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him."

Dean didn't respond; he had nothing to say.

"So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little, too late," Sam paused for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all...But neither are you, that much I know...I'll let you get back to work."

Sam left and headed back into Bobby's house. Dean turned around, a mess of emotions brewing at the bottom of his stomach. It built and it built until it rested in his chest. There was anger and hurt and resentment, and oh-so much grief...And all of it was because of his dad.

His dad, who treated him like a little soldier. His dad, who taught him how to shoot a gun when he was way too young. His dad, who left his baby brother in his care when he was only five years old. His dad, who made him grow up much too soon. His dad, who made him feel safe even when there were beings that came out of his nightmares living in the world around him. His dad, who loved him and Sam so much. His dad, who was dead.

His dad was dead.

He hastily picked up the crowbar next to his toolbox and whipped around, slamming it into the driver's window of an old car behind him. Glass shattered onto his lower torso, legs, and feet but he didn't care. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough to describe how he was feeling.

He smashed the crowbar into Baby's trunk; it bounced but didn't budge or break. He did it again and again, over and over, as his anger exploded from him like a bomb. At the moment, he didn't care that he was trashing his beloved car all over again; the Impala just reminded him too much of his dad.

His blood was pumping, he was sweating profusely, and tears had sparked in his eyes as he bashed Baby's trunk until there was a decently sized hole in the middle. Only then did he drop the crowbar, where it made it tinkling sound against the gravel. He turned in the direction of Bobby's house, as if Sam would be able to feel his angry glare from where he was standing, but he came face-to-face with Julia.

His beautiful Julia. Julia, who had been understanding throughout the week since John's death, letting him fuck his frustration out on her. Julia, who had been good about giving him space to deal with his grief. Julia, who was the sunshine in his dark and cloudy mind. Julia Ruth Petersen, who was too fucking good for him.

And there she stood, a small smile on her face that felt like home. There was love and understanding in her eyes as she waited for him to do something, anything, but it made his stomach turn. She was good and he wasn't. He would just bring her down.

He was poison; his dad dying had proved that.

So, even though Julia there, waiting to support him and love him, he walked away from her.

When Julia woke up, she remembered everything. She remembered trying to slow down the blood dripping from Dean's chest. She remembered Sam and John arguing. She remembered how Sam was cut off by something. She remembered the crash of metal against metal and the sound of glass flying everywhere. She remembered screaming and looking over at Dean before everything went black. She remembered having a short dream of her angel, who only told her to have faith, before she woke up.

She didn't remember the pain, though. It wasn't as bad as it could be, considering the fact that a fucking semi-truck crashed into them, but it was still intense. It was radiating down her right arm and when she tried to shift it, more pain shot through her. She wasn't a doctor but she was ninety-eight percent sure that something in her arm was broken. There was also some pain in the back of her head; it might have been a concussion.

The only thing she could hear since she woke up was the ringing in her ears. She clapped her bloody left hand against her ear and tried to focus enough that it faded away. It didn't but at least she could hear better now.

"Julia?" she heard Sam shouting. "Dad? Dean?"

"Sam?" she asked loudly, her faint hearing causing her to up her volume. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Yeah, what about you and Dean?"

"Dean," Julia breathed in realization and turned to her right; to her shock, Dean's head was in her lap and everything was bloody and he was now fully unconscious. "Oh, God, Dean!"

"Is he alive? Is he alive, Julia?"

"I—uh, hold on," Julia stammered, raising her left hand to press her fingers against Dean's pulse point. She sighed in relief when she felt its faint beating. "He's alive, Sam, but you have to call for an ambulance."

Julia was light-headed by the time a helicopter, two police cruisers, two ambulances, and a fire truck arrived to help them. The sun had already been up for a full half-hour when paramedics, police, and firemen got to the scene. The driver's door was already ripped away from the Impala but the firemen had to use the jaws of death on John's door and Julia's door.

They got Dean out first since he was laying on Julia's lap and was arguably in the worst shape out of the four of them. Once he was carefully laid out on a stretcher with a neck brace and a lengthy piece of gauze around his head, he was rushed to the helicopter. John followed him shorty and the helicopter took off before Julia or Sam were even out of the Impala.

They were both fitted with neck braces and IVs, Julia had her arm and her head wrapped with gauze in her bleeding ears, while Sam had an eyepatch covering his right eye. The paramedics pushed their stretchers to separate ambulances and loaded them up.

"Ma'am," the paramedic who stayed in the back with her caught her attention, raising his voice so she could hear him. "Ma'am, can you tell me your name?"

"Julia Petersen," she shouted unknowingly; the paramedic winced at her volume. "And the guys, they're Dean Petersen, Sam Petersen, and John Petersen."

"Which is which?"

"The older man is John, the one with floppy hair is Sam," she told him, glad that they were speaking so she could stay awake.

"And your next of kin?"

"Bethany Everett. She's my older sister."

"All right, thank you, ma'am," the paramedic nodded. "How are you feeling? Are you still light-headed? In pain?"

"Yes to all of it," she croaked.

"Okay, well we're only a couple minutes out right now," the man assured her. "You sit tight and, when we get to the hospital, you'll be checked out right away. You're in safe hands."

"Thank you."

The paramedic had been right; they arrived at the hospital within a couple of minutes and she had been checked out and tested right away. In the end, she had a cut on the back of her neck, a concussion, her left eardrum was burst, her right wrist was broken, and there were a couple of minor scratches and bruises. She got off easy—she hadn't even heard about Dean, John, or Sam yet.

After her wrist was set and wrapped in a lavender cast, her headed was stitched back together, a few of her minor cuts were bandaged, and she was put on antibiotics for her ear and pain medication for everything, she was allowed her own room on the same floor as Sam, Dean, and John.

When her nurse brought her phone to her room and informed her that they had called Bethany, she also mentioned that Sam was all right, just a little busted up. As soon as the nurse left, her phone began to ring; it was Beth.

Julia carefully opened the phone and reached across her body to press it to her uninjured ear. "Hello?"

"Julia? Oh, thank God," Beth sighed in relief. "What happened? Are you okay? Are the Winchesters okay? We're on our way down there right now, I'm hoping that we'll be there by tomorrow morning. Tell me what's going on!"

"Beth, can you please slow down?" Julia breathed. "We found the demon and, long story short, a semi-truck crashed into us. Sam's fine but I haven't heard about Dean or Uncle John."

"What about you?"

"Broken wrist, burst eardrum, a concussion, a cut on the back of my neck, and a couple of bruises," she rattled off and paused when she heard Beth inhale deeply. "Beth, I'm really scared about Dean."

"I know you are, sweetie," Beth sympathized sadly. "I know you are. You just have to pray. It's what I've been doing since they called me."

She wasn't sure if praying was going to do anything. Her angel had simply told her to have faith but it was hard. Her semi-boyfriend was doing horribly—she assumed—and who knew how John was doing. She repeated her mother's phrase about having faith in the hard times but it was difficult when she felt like she was hanging on by a thread.

"Okay," Julia exhaled, tears coming to her eyes. "Hey, are you bringing the insurance cards for Sam, Dean, and Uncle John that I asked you about?"

"I sure am," Beth confirmed. "Dean, Sam, and John Petersen are now insured by PSC starting a week ago."

"Good. Thank you so much, Beth."

"The Winchesters are family and we take care of family," Beth stated firmly.

"Yes, we do," Julia nodded to herself, wincing when she got light-headed for a brief second. It was too soon that the nausea came from the vertigo she was experiencing because of her ear. "I love you, Beth."

"I love you, too, Jujube," Beth promised and Julia could hear her sniffle. "Taylor, Lizzie, and Aunt Maggie give their love."

"I love them, too," Julia couldn't wipe the tears from her eyes but she didn't care; no one was around, anyway. She spoke too soon—Sam walked into her room within the next two seconds. "Beth, I gotta go. Sam walked in."

"Tell him that we love him!" Beth exclaimed. "And give our love to Dean and John, as well."

"I will."

"We'll be there as soon as we can, Julia."

"Okay."

"Abby will probably call you, too."

"Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Julia wrinkled her nose, simultaneously annoyed and touched by Beth's protectiveness. "Bye, Beth."

"Bye!"

Julia snapped her phone shut and laid it on her lap before looking at Sam. He had taken the seat by her right side, eyeing the cast on her lower arm.

"The nurse told me how you were doing,"

Julia raised her eyebrows. "She did?"

"Yeah, apparently we're related now," Sam smirked at her before smiling genuinely. "Thanks for that, by the way. I couldn't even think about what I needed to tell them."

"It's no problem, S," she assured him kindly. "You have more important things to worry about. How are they?"

"Dad's okay. The bullet was taken out of his leg and he's fine. He still hasn't woken up from the anesthesia but the doctors are optimistic," Sam told her.

"And Dean?"

"I haven't gone to see him yet," he admitted. "He just got out of surgery about an hour ago."

Julia inhaled sharply. "Is he in his room?" Sam nodded. "Let's go, then."

"J, you need to rest," Sam shook his head. "You have a concussion."

"Well, I can have a concussion in a wheelchair, then," Julia argued. "I want to see Dean. I need to see Dean."

Sam sighed but quickly gave in. He retrieved a wheelchair from her nurse, who came into the room to help get Julia in it, and then pushed her down the hallway, where Dean was resting in his room.

He looked horrible. He was so, so pale, making the closed gashes on his cheek and forehead stand out. There were bandages covering the wounds on his head, his chest, and his abdomen. And, worst of all, he was on life support.

"Dean," Julia breathed, her eyes stinging with tears. "Oh, my God."

"Ju—Jules..."

Julia whipped her head toward the bottom part of the bed, where she could have sworn that Dean was calling her name. She must have been hallucinating or something because no one—and certainly not Dean—was there. She turned back to Dean and grabbed his limp hand. Sam crossed over to Dean's other side, his eyes wet with tears, and grabbed his other hand.

"...you're the psychic. Give me..."

Julia looked toward the end of the bed. It was Dean's voice again...

"Your father's awake," Dean's doctor walked into the room. "You can go see him if you like."

Julia sighed, relieved that John was okay. No offense to him, because she loved him, but now she could put all her focus on Dean.

Sam nodded, looking relieved as well. "Doc, what about my brother?"

"Well, he sustained serious injuries," the doctor explained. "Blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidneys...but it's the head trauma I'm worried about. We see early signs of a cerebral edema."

"...the fuck is a cerebral...?"

Julia cleared her throat. "What's a cerebral edema?"

"It's fluid on the brain," the doctor told her. "It causes intracranial pressure."

"And this can kill him?"

"It can but right now we're treating him with oxygen and medication to try to slow it down," the doctor stated, glancing at Dean for a brief second. "If your brother's—"

"He's my husband," she quickly corrected him. "He took my name and Sam and John couldn't bear to have a different name as him."

Sam nodded, backing her up. "It's true."

The doctor nodded. "My apologies, Mrs. Petersen. If your husband—" he corrected himself. "gets worse, we will do a surgery to remove part of his skull to relieve the pressure build-up."

"And if he survives that?"

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up—if he wakes up."

Julia squeezed Dean's hand as Sam stiffened. "If?"

"I have to be honest—"

"Screw...I'm...up..."

"—most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long," the doctor informed them. "He's fighting very hard but you need to have realistic expectations."

Julia shook her head and turned away from the doctor, looking back at Dean's freckled-filled face. He couldn't die, he just couldn't. He had too many people who needed him, who loved him. She loved him and she wouldn't have the chance to tell him if he never woke up.

Julia and Sam stayed with Dean for another ten minutes before heading over to John's room three doors down. He was in a little pain and a lot medicated but he was coherent enough to understand Dean's condition and how bleak it was.

"Here," John reached for his wallet. "Give them my insurance."

"Beth's on her way here with three brand new insurance cards for you guys," Julia informed him before he could pull his card out. "John Petersen and his loving sons, Sam and Dean."

John gave her a grateful look. "Thank you."

"You guys are family," she stated firmly.

John nodded and turned to look at Sam once more. "What else did the doctor say about Dean?"

"He could have surgery to release the pressure on his brain but we don't know if he'll survive until then," Julia sighed sadly, squeezing her left hand into a fist as she couldn't really move her other hand.

"Look, if the doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to, that's all," Sam declared. "I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him."

"We'll look for someone," John agreed; Sam nodded. "But, Sam, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone..."

"Why not?" Sam asked sharply. "Abby and I found that faith healer before."

"Right, and that was one in a million."

"So what?" Sam retorted. "Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our asses?"

"Sam..." Julia warned him lowly. The last thing they needed was to have a fight break out between him and his dad.

"No, I said we'd look, all right?" John's voice was firm as he addressed his youngest son. "I'll check under every stone...Where's the Colt?"

Julia reared back like she had been slapped. She couldn't believe that John was asking about the Colt when Dean was practically on his death bed. Sam was thinking along the same lines as she was.

"Your son is dying and you're worried about the Colt?" he asked in disbelief.

"We're hunting this demon and maybe it's hunting us too," John reminded them. "That gun may be our only card."

Sam sighed. "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off I-83."

John nodded. "All right. You've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby—" that was news to Julia. "—He's, like, an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"Go meet up with Bobby, then," John ordered. "You get that Colt and you bring it back to me. Watch out for hospital security."

A bitter look fell upon Sam's injured face. "I think I've got it covered."

He stood up and walked over to Julia's wheelchair, prepared to leave. John stopped them before they could move, holding out a small piece of paper. "Hey, here," Sam took the note. "I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick them up for me."

Sam read the list. "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin?" he recited. "What's this stuff for?"

Julia wrinkled her nose, trying to remember where she had heard of those ingredients.

"Protection."

Sam waited for a few seconds. "Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me and children like me. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"

John didn't answer right away. "No, I don't."

Liar, Julia accused him in her mind.

"...you know..."

It was Dean again...

When they left the room, Julia requested that Sam bring her back to Dean. He set her up so Dean was within her reach and then left, promising to call her once he met up with Bobby and made sure the Impala was good to go.

As soon as he was gone, Julia turned to Dean, carefully placing her hand on his cheek. "Dean," she whispered, closing her eyes in hopes that she could feel his energy. "are you in there?"

"...here..."

Julia couldn't feel his energy in his physical body but she recognized it from across the bed where she heard Dean's voice.

"Dean?" her eyes stung with tears. "Is that really you?"

Suddenly, she could hear him clearly. She didn't know how but she was going to take advantage of it.

"I'm here, baby. It's me."

"It's good to hear your voice, D," she held up his hand and pressed her lips to the back of it. "What's going on? Are you in the veil or something?"

"I must be. No one can hear me but you."

"I don't know how I'm hearing you," Julia shook her head. "but I'm glad I can."

"Me too, shortcake. Where's Sam?"

"He went to meet up with Bobby so he could tow the Impala back to his house. Once you're awake and all healed up, you'll be able to work on it."

"Thank God."

Julia chuckled. "You and that car."

"Hey, she's the second most important woman in the whole world to me."

"Oh? And who's the first?"

"Don't act coy, Julia, you know it's you."

"Ah, Dean, who knew you're such a sap?"

"Only for my hot wife," Dean snarked back at her.

Julia's face instantly flushed in embarrassment. "You heard that, huh?"

"I sure did," Dean laughed. "Hey, if you're down, I'm down."

"What happened to taking this slowly?"

"Well, I'm not a patient man, shortcake. You know that."

"All right," Julia sighed. "When you wake up, make sure you propose to me."

"I gotta get a ring first!"

"I don't need a ring," she said seriously before pausing. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with you," she confessed tearfully. "and I just wanted to tell you in case...in case..."

"Don't say goodbye, Julia," Dean interrupted her. "I'm going to wake up because I'm in love with you, too."

She gasped. "You're serious?"

"As serious as a Russian dictator."

"Oh, come on," Julia snorted, her heart bursting with love. "It was one time."

"Hey, I gotta take advantage of your ditsy moments, baby. They only come so often."

"I hate you."

"No, you—"

Julia stiffened when she couldn't hear the rest of his sentence. He couldn't have gone with a reaper or anything because his heart monitor was still beeping steadily. She just hoped that something had caught his attention and he had to leave the room.

It was only five minutes later that Dean reappeared, startling her when he spoke. "Jules, I full-on Swayze'd a glass in Dad's room."

Julia sat up. "You did what?"

"Dad—who, turns out, gave Sam a list of ingredients to summon a demon—and Sam were arguing and they were saying some rude stuff. Really, it was the worst any of their fights had been and I remember the night Sam left for Stanford as clear as day—"

"Dean."

"Right," he focused. "well, I was fed up listening to their argument so I told them to shut up and knocked a glass off a table. Isn't that cool?"

Julia frowned. "I don't know, Dean," she disagreed with him. "I kind of sounds like you're becoming a spirit or something."

"What, like a vengeful one? I'm not vengeful."

"Not yet you aren't," she sighed. "Look, I'll—"

Dean's heart monitor started beeping like crazy before flatlining. Julia paled, immediately tearing up, and shouted for his nurse. Dean's nurse, plus another nurse and Dean's doctor, came into the room with a crash cart. They carefully pushed Julia out of the way and started getting Dean ready to resuscitation. They exchanged his oxygen with a bag and started pumping as the other nurse ripped open his shirt and allowed the doctor to slap a silicon pad onto the middle of his chest. He charged up the paddles and pressed them against Dean's chest, shocking him. Dean's body rattled but he was still flatlining.

"Come on, Dean," Julia whispered, silently praying for a miracle. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder; it was Sam. "Sam."

He looked down at her with tears in his eyes before looking back at Dean.

"All clear," the doctor announced and, while the nurse took their hands off of Dean so they weren't shocked, he placed the paddles back on Dean's chest.

The nurse looked over at his heart monitor. "Still no pulse."

"Please, Dean, please..." Julia whimpered under her breath. "You said you would wake up."

"Okay, let's go again," the doctor ordered. "Three-sixty."

"Charging!"

"All clear!"

Julia and Sam watched nervously as the doctor pressed the paddles to Dean once more.

"...get the fuck away from me! Stay back!" she heard Dean's voice. "I said get back!"

It was like whatever Dean said helped his body. The heart monitor started beeping normally, making Sam and Julia slump in relief.

"We have a pulse," Dean's nurse informed the doctor. "We're back into sinus rhythm."

"Don't worry, guys," Dean spoke from beside them. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit but I could grab it. And, if I can grab it, I can kill it."

Dean left the room after his assuring words, as Julia could no longer feel his energy. As the doctor and nurses packed away their supplies and left the room, Sam grabbed Julia's arm.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her anxiously. "I heard Dean."

"I've been hearing him since we first visited him," Julia told him solemnly.

Sam gave her a surprised look. "What, is that something you can do now?"

"Never before," she shook her head. "I mean, I could feel energies and I feel Dean's when he's in the same room, but I've never been able to speak to anyone in the veil before."

Sam hummed thoughtfully and then perked up. "Well, I know something that we can do."

"Please tell me it's not a Ouija board."

"...It's a Ouija board."

-

It had been an eventful hour; for Dean. First, he met Tessa who had recently had an appendectomy that went south. Second, he saw the spirit hovering over a dying girl. Third, he learned that the spirit was actually a reaper. One of the nurses working on the little girl had said something about the girl not suffering anymore and it all clicked into place for him.

Reapers didn't kill people; they just took them to whatever afterlife they believed in. The people that he saw had the reaper over them were supposed to die...He was supposed to die...

But he couldn't leave Julia, Sam, and his dad. They needed him; it was clear that Sam and his dad would rip their heads off if he weren't around and he wasn't about to let Julia go when he confessed that he was in love with her for the first time.

He didn't promise that kind of love and not pull through. Well, he had never really fallen in love with anyone the way he was with Julia. It clear now that whatever he had with Cassie was puppy-love and Lisa was just good at fucking. But Julia, she was the real deal. He'd do anything for her, he'd give anything for her.

He quickly made his way back to his room just in time to see Sam walk in.

"You didn't go to a toy shop, did you?" Julia asked his brother in a flat tone.

"No...I went to Target," Sam admitted sheepishly; Dean laughed in amusement and Julia's head turned his way.

"Dean's here," she informed Sam, smiling in Dean's direction. God, that smile made his heart flutter like some kind of teenager. "What took you so long, anyway? You left two hours ago."

"The nearest Target was an hour away," Sam admitted as he pulled the table in front of Julia's wheelchair and set the Ouija board up. "Is he really here?"

"I'm here, Sammy," Dean assured him. "Hi."

"He just said hi to you," Julia informed Sam. "See, I don't know why we needed that thing. I can just translate for you."

"No," Sam shook his head, setting the planchette the right way up on the board. "I want to talk to him myself."

"You can," Julia rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. "He'll just be talking to me and then I'll be talking to you in return."

"Just shush," Sam scolded her. "Let's do this."

"I'm not touching that thing."

"You're in the room," Sam pointed out. "I don't think touching it will make any difference."

"I'm not touching it, Sam!"

"Okay, okay," Dean sighed; was today national argument day? "Stop bickering and get on with it...God, I can't believe I'm actually going to do this."

"Well, Sam wants you to do it," Julia told him before turning to Sam. "He told me to tell you to back off and leave me alone."

"That is not what I said, Julia."

"He said that?"

"That's exactly what he said."

"I did not!

Sam sighed. "Fine," he sat down at the side of the table adjacent to Julia and put his hands on the planchette. "Dean? Are you there?"

"Are you there, Dean? It's me, Samuel."

Dean snickered and Sam glared at Julia for her comment and opened up the board according to the instructions. Dean sighed and placed his hands on the other side of the planchette.

"God, I feel like I'm at a fucking slumber party."

"None of the slumber parties I've been to had Ouija boards," Julia told him matter-of-factly.

"That's because you went to a private Christian school," Dean snarked back at her. "You and your friends were all too chicken to do anything like this."

She wrinkled her nose. "Rude."

Dean chuckled. "All right, Sam," he sighed. "This isn't going to work..."

To his—and Sam and Julia's—complete shock, the planchette started to move to the yes at the top of the board.

"I'll be damned."

Julia looked between them wide-eyed. "Okay, this is creepy."

"Shut it, shortcake. You're the one who can actually hear me."

Julia gave him a dirty look while Sam laughed in relief. "It's good to hear from you, Dean. It hasn't been the same without you."

"Damn straight," Dean nodded to himself and pushed the planchette across the board.

"Dean, what?"

"I'm hunting something," Dean told him as he moved to 'H' and then 'U'.

"He's hunting something," Julia told Sam, impatient with the slow progress when it came to spelling out the words.

"You're hunting?" Sam looked over to the spot that Julia had been when she spoke to Dean.

Dean moved the planchette back to the yes.

"Dean, we're in the hospital," Sam pointed out. "What could you possibly be hunting? Do you know what is it?"

"Yeah, I do," Dean didn't bother with the planchette this time. He knew that Julia would just tell Sam what he said anyway since she was so impatient. "It's a reaper."

"A reaper?" Julia gasped.

"He's hunting a reaper?" Sam looked to her.

"That's what he's saying."

"It's not killing people," Dean told Julia. "It's taking them. You know, when their time's just up."

Julia sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Damn it," she told Sam what he said. "He said that the reapers taking people when it's their time."

Sam shook his head and looked back in Dean's direction. "Is it after you?"

"Yeah," Dean said grimly. "it is."

"This can't be happening," Julia murmured, her voice thick with tears. "Dean, if it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah, you can't kill death. I'm screwed," Dean couldn't stand to see her so upset, especially over him. "Don't worry, shortcake, I'm not going anywhere."

Julia didn't answer him, nor did she look assured by his promise. She broke out into heartbreaking sobs and covered her left ear with her good hand. Dean guessed that her burst eardrum ached.

Sam took Julia's sobs as resignation. "No, there's gotta be a way," he insisted. "There's gotta be a way. Dad will know what to do."

He left the room without another word, heading over to their dad's room.

Julia was still crying but at least her sobs had died out. Dean scooted closer to her and she bristled, feeling his energy brush against her sides.

"Dean," she sniffled. "I can't lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me, baby," Dean whispered and reached out, placing his hand on her arm. He could tell that she didn't feel it but he did and he needed that comfort, too. "Dad will come up with something."

"Sure."

"Hey, you gotta have hope and faith, Junior," he scolded her playfully. "Wasn't it last night that you were telling me that?"

"It's not the same."

"How is it not the same?"

Julia was quiet for half a minute before she snorted. "Yeah, I guess it's kind of the same."

"You should always listen to me. I'm a genius."

Julia giggled. "You sure are, babe."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Sam came walking into the room, holding John's current journal. "Hey, so Dad wasn't in his room—"

Dean stiffened, worried about his dad's whereabouts. Was he summoning the demon? "Where is he?"

"—but I got his journal, so, who knows? Maybe there's something in here."

"Good thinking, S."

"Thanks, J."

Julia used her one good arm to roll herself over to Sam. It took a solid two minutes and Sam didn't notice but Dean was torn between amusement and sympathy. Yeah, it was funny as hell to see her try to get herself over to Sam without help but it sucked to see her struggling so hard.

"Sam," Julia sighed, her good arm hanging limply by her side. "could you please give me a hand?"

Sam looked up, leaving the journal open to the pages on reapers, and went to help Julia. Dean took a look at the reaper information, his anger raising when he read one specific fact about reapers.

"Son of a bitch."

He stormed out of his room and set out toward the rest of the hospital in order to find Tessa. It turned out that she wasn't an actual person stuck in the veil like him—she was a reaper the whole time.

He finally found her in the room she had showed him earlier, where she was in the hospital bed, unconscious, with her mother mourning by her side. She was dressed differently now, wearing a black tank-top and jeans instead of the scrubs she was wearing before.

"Hi, Dean."

"You know, you read the most interesting things," he told her flatly as he slowly walked into the room. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception. I sure didn't. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, a girl that looks shockingly like my girlfriend."

Tessa had brown hair and hazel eyes just like Julia. They were even close to the same height.

"I was wondering when you would figure it out," Tessa said calmly.

"I should have known," he shook his head bitterly. "That whole accepting-fate rap of yours was far too laid back for a dead chick. But the mother and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"It's my sandbox. I can make you see whatever I want."

Dean scoffed. "What, is this, like, a turn-on for you? Toying with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice," Tessa defended herself. "You saw my true form and you flipped out. That kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine," Dean said briskly. "We're taking. What the fuck do you want to talk about?"

"How death is nothing to fear," Tessa told him, standing up to walk over to him. She placed her hand on his left cheek and he forced himself to not flinch away. "It's your time to go, Dean, and you're living on borrowed time already."

Dean pulled away from her and walked over to the window looking out to the parking lot. "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before but you've gotta make an exception. You've gotta cut me a break."

"Stage three, bargaining," Tessa hummed, sitting down on the hospital bed once more.

"I'm serious," he insisted, turning to face her. "My family's in danger. See, we're kind of in the middle of this, uh, war, and they need me."

"The fight's over."

"No, it's not."

"It is for you," Tessa informed him. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked off the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave; victory hands in the balance. But they're wrong—the battle goes on without them."

"My brother, he could die without me."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't," Tessa shrugged. "Nothing you can do about it."

"But Julia—"

"Will move on eventually," Tessa interrupted him. "This is an honorable death. A warrior's death."

Dean scoffed and shook his head. "I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks. I'm off the market."

"That's funny," she humored him. "You're very cute."

"There's no such thing as an honorable death," Dean declared firmly. "My corpse is going to rot in the ground and my family is going to die!" he shook his head. "No, I'm not going with you. I don't care what you do."

"Well, like you said, there's always a choice," Tessa nodded. "I can't make you come with me but you're not getting back in your body—that's just facts. So, yes, you can stay. You can stay here for years, disembodied, scared. And over the decades it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

Dean blanched, remembering Julia's earlier worries. "What are you saying?"

Tessa gave him a look full of pity. "Dean, how do you think angry spirits are born?" she confirmed his fear. "They can't let go and they can't move on. You're about to become one. The same thing you hunt."

Dean's chest burned with an emotion he didn't recognize. He sat down on the bed and stared at the linoleum tiles under his feet. Maybe Tessa was right; he didn't want to become a vengeful spirit and he didn't want a hunter to come to town to clean up his mess if he did get violent.

Sam and John would be fine. John would hunt the demon down once again and kill him and Sam could go back to Stanford once everything was over with. And Julia...well, she'd move on. She'd miss him, he was sure of it, but she was only twenty. She'd meet someone and fall in love, get married, and pop out a couple of kids. Maybe she'd work at PSC with Maggie or teach a couple of theology courses at Northwestern or Moody or something. She'd be a great teacher—hell, Dean learned new things everyday because she rambled on and on about things she found fascinating.

God, it hurt to think about leaving Julia and Sam. It hurt so much. But maybe this was for the best. He was poison; he cursed everyone he loved. Hell, he had only shared his love with two other women—other than Julia—and that was his mom and Cassie. Look how both of those relationships turned out. He didn't want Julia to meet the same fate as his mom and he didn't want her to resent him, either. Sam, he'd be better off without him. He could go back to Stanford, get his degree, got to law school, and become a lawyer. He'd live the apple-pie that he always wanted—and Dean secretly yearned for—and he'd settle down and raise a family, just like Julia.

They'd be fine without me, he convinced himself, this is for the best.

He didn't even notice that Tessa sat down next to him until she spoke, "It's time to put the pain behind you."

Dean swallowed dryly, nervously. "And go where?"

Julia believed in God and Angels and Heaven but he didn't have the same faith as her. Still, it was a slightly comforting thought that he might spend the rest of eternity in paradise with his loved ones joining him when it was his time.

"Sorry," Tessa clicked her tongue. "I can't give away the big punchline."

Of course. I doubt I'd get into Heaven, anyway.

"Moment of truth. No changing your mind later," Tessa looked at him for an answer. "So, what's it going to be?"

Honestly, Dean had no fucking idea what he wanted to do. He wanted to go with Tessa and give Sam and Julia better lives. But his whole being told him that he needed to be with his brother and girlfriend. Maybe that made him selfish but when was there a moment of his life that he had been selfish like this? Why couldn't he get the things he wanted, what he needed?

But he didn't want to be a ghost for the rest of eternity, either.

Luckily, Dean wasn't given a chance to answer Tessa. Just as he turned to tell her that he would go with her, the lights all around the room started flickering. He slowly stood up, looking at her suspiciously.

"What are you doing that for?"

Tessa stood up, too, looking around wearily. "I'm not doing it."

She abruptly turned toward the vent in the wall near the door. Black smoke—a demon—was entering the room through the vent.

"What the fuck?"

"You can't do this!" Tessa shouted at the demon. "Get away!"

"What's happening?" Dean raised his voice, nervously looking between the demon and Tessa.

Tessa screamed as the demonic smoke entered her body through her mouth. Dean looked on in shock, wondering how a demon could possibly possess a reaper.

Tessa turned toward him, her eyes glowing with a yellow tint. Dean stiffened; it was him. The yellow-eyed demon.

"Today's your lucky day, kid," the demon droned.

He reached out Tessa's arm and pressed her hand against Dean's forehead. He could feel something twist in his chest and abdomen; he gasped loudly and felt something choking him.

-

There had been no sign of Dean in over an hour and John was still missing, too. Julia's nurse had brought her and Sam a late-night snack—which they devoured—and she spoke to Abby on the phone for a little while but, other than that, they did research most of the time.

It was only ten minutes before that they stopped. They had found nothing about how to stop reapers; they looked through both of John's journal, called Bobby and a couple more of hunters they knew for any information they had. There was nothing. There wasn't a way to save Dean and that destroyed them both.

Julia was past the point of tears; she just stared blankly at Dean's face, memorizing every part of it. The way his skin was covered with precious freckles, the way he had perfectly kissable lips, his adorable nose...And then she remembered the things that she couldn't see at the moment; his gorgeous emerald-green eyes, the dimples that appeared at the corners of his lips when he pursed them or smiled tightly, the way that he winked, with the corner of his mouth moving in sync with whatever eye he shut.

There were so many things about Dean Winchester that she wanted to remember. So many goofy, angry, happy, and loving faces. So many inside jokes, random nicknames, and moments spent alone and with Sam...There was a lifetime of memories she had with Dean, yet it wasn't enough.

Julia wasn't ready to let him go. She never would be.

God, Mom, or whatever angel that can hear me, I need your help. Dean Winchester needs your help. He's gonna die and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I can't live without him—I don't want to live without him. I know my faith has waned today and I'm supposed to have it in the hard times, too, and I'm sorry for that. But Dean is a good man—one of the greatest I know. He has to live; he deserves to live. So, I'm asking, with all that I am, that you please help him. Please...Please help him. I love you, Father, and all that you created. I pray that you'll forgive me.

Amen.

Just as Julia was finishing up her prayer, Dean gasped loudly and choked on his breathing tube, his eyes popping open. The heart monitor beeped like crazy since he was probably scared so Sam ran into the hallway to call for help.

"Dean, it's okay," she spoke soothingly as he continued coughing. "You're in the hospital but you're okay. You're okay, babe."

Dean's frantic eyes softened as he listened to her but he stiffened back up when the same nurses and doctor from earlier ran into the room. They worked quickly, taking out Dean's breathing tube and checking his vitals. The doctor said that he was doing okay for now but they wouldn't know for sure until they could run tests in the morning.

Dean's nurses left and Julia's nurse appeared, telling her that she needed to get to bed. Julia smiled at Dean and reluctantly left, going back to her room to catch a few hours of sleep. Unfortunately, she had to be woken up every hour to see if her concussion was affecting her, but she still managed to get some rest.

The next morning, after Dean's many tests, Julia and Sam went back to his room. They asked how he was feeling but he reported that he was fine. He didn't remember anything from when he was out—which was disheartening because they had shared I-love-yous but she didn't let it get her down. They had more time now. They'd get to that point again. Nonetheless, she and Sam explained that she was able to talk to him in the veil and that a reaper had been after him.

The doctor eventually came in with the test results and greeted the three of them. "Mrs. Petersen, Misters Petersen."

Dean looked over at Julia and Sam in confusion, not knowing that she had switched their names.

"I have good news," the doctor declared, opening Dean's file. "I can't explain it; the edema's vanished, the internal contusions are healed, your vitals are good...You have some kind of angel watching over you."

Yes, he does, Julia agreed.

"Thanks, Doc," Dean nodded at him. As soon as the doctor left the room, he turned back to Julia and Sam. "You said a reaper was after me?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "How'd I ditch it."

"We have no idea," Julia sighed, wrinkling her nose. "You really can't remember anything?"

"No," Dean shook his head. "Except there a pit in my stomach...Guys, something's wrong."

There was a knock on the door; John entered the room, his arm still in a sling, and smiled down at Dean. "How you feeling, dude?"

"Fine, I guess," Dean answered passively. "I'm alive."

"That's what matters," John was relieved that his oldest son was alive and feeling okay.

"Where were you last night?" Sam spoke up, glaring at his father.

"I had some things to take care of."

Sam scoffed. "Well, that's specific."

Dean sighed tiredly. "Come on, Sam..."

Sam ignored his brother and the dirty look Julia was giving him. "Did you go after the demon?"

"No," John answered firmly.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam challenged him.

John sighed and made his way closer to his sons and Julia. "Can we not fight?" he begged Sam. "You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads."

Julia studied the oldest Winchester closely, reading his energy. He was relieved but there was also regret, grief, and sadness. It was a dark and deep sadness that had Julia on edge—it wasn't in the way that put goosebumps over her body and made her scalp tingle. It was sad in the way that had her wondering if something was going on that she, Sam, and Dean didn't know about. Something bad.

"Look, Sammy, I—I've made some mistakes," John admitted, his voice heavy with sadness. "but I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

Dean and Sam could sense that something was off with their dad, too.

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just a little tired," he smiled, showing off his famous Winchester dimples. "Hey, son, would you, uh, would you and Julia mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Did your doctor say it was okay?" Julia raised a curious eyebrow.

Dean smiled at her and so did John. "Yes, ma'am, he did."

"Well, then I guess we can take a trip to the cafeteria," Julia sighed, grateful that she no longer needed to use the wheelchair.

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, sure."

It took Julia and Sam only a couple of minutes to get John some coffee since the nurses at the nurses' station offered to share some from their coffee pot. They both thanked them all sincerely and, while Julia went back in Dean's room, Sam brought the coffee to his dad.

"Hey," Julia's smile fell from her face when she saw Dean's teary eyes. "Are you all right?"

"DAD?!"

Julia whipped around at Sam's shout from down the hall. She quickly looked out into the hallway and saw nurses and the on-call doctor rushing toward John's room with a crash cart.

With a pit in her stomach, she turned back to Dean. "Come on."

Dean allowed her to help him off his bed. "Is it my dad?" when Julia hesitated, he repeated himself. "Is it my dad?"

"Yeah, it is," she confirmed quietly as they entered the hallway.

She helped him over to John's room, where Sam was standing in the doorway, staring helplessly at the medical staff that was trying to revive his father. He noticed they were there and took most of Dean's weight from her. Julia couldn't feel relief from the disappearance of Dean's weight, she was so worried about the scene in front of her.

With blurry eyes, she watched the nurses and doctor work on John. They had already charged him up a couple of times and were now on CPR, trying to get his heart to do something.

She wrapped her good arm around Dean's waist, leaning her head against his bicep to offer comfort. She didn't allow any tears to fall; she could grieve later, right now she needed to be there to support Dean and Sam.

"Okay, stop compression," the doctor ordered when John gave them no reaction.

One of the nurses checked the heart monitor. "Still no pulse."

The doctor sighed. "Okay, that's it everybody. I'm calling it. Time of death 10:41 A.M.."

Story Masterlist

17. Piercing the Veil [2x01; In My Time of Dying]

18. Ways to Grieve [2x02; Everybody Loves a Clown]

19. Vegetarian Vampires [2x03; Bloodlust]

20. TBA [2x04; Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things]

21. TBA

22. TBA

Dean shakily snapped his phone shut. "They have Dad."

Even though Julia and Sam already knew that, having Dean confirm it made everything feel worse. If Dean was shaken that meant things were bad; he was their rock who was hardly scared of anything and to see him so upset made things so much worse.

"Dean..." Julia said hesitantly, wanting to comfort him in some way. Dean was focused, though, grabbing the Colt from the nightstand between their beds and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "What are we going to do?"

"We got to go," Dean said quickly, grabbing his duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Why?" Sam asked as Julia went to make sure everything was in her bag; when she was satisfied that everything was in place, she zipped it close.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right?" Dean slipped on his jacket. "It knows we have the Colt. It's got Dad—it's probably coming for us next."

"Good," Sam declared. "We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

Dean whipped around to face Sam, his eyes wild. "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there and we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving now."

"Sam," Julia touched his arm for only a second. "Let's go."

An hour later, they were a hundred and some miles away from Salvation. Sam was still sulking about the fact they left Salvation but Dean wasn't worried about it and Julia ignored him in order to text Abby for help.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him," Sam spoke up tensely.

"What we need is a plan," Dean changed the subject. "Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive so we just gotta figure out where."

"You think they're gonna trade him for the gun?" Julia asked him, briefly looking up from her cellphone.

Dean nodded in confirmation but Sam shook his head.

"What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam's voice trembled. "Dad, he might be—"

"Don't!" Dean cut him off.

Sam sighed, thinking that Dean was in denial. "Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you but if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Fuck the job, Sam!" Dean grunted.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already," Dean scolded his brother. "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything."

Sam was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "So, how do we find him?"

"Maybe we got Lincoln," Dean suggested. "Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"I don't think the demons will leave a trail," Julia interjected.

Dean nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "We need help."

"Well, I reached out to Abby," Julia told the brothers, looking at the text that Abby sent her. "She can't leave her hunt but she told me that we should go to Uncle Bobby's house."

"Bobby Singer, huh?" Dean hummed. "If he actually wants to help us. He and Dad had a falling out a couple years ago. I haven't seen him since."

"He's probably over it. Besides, he's not gonna turn away the Winchester boys when they need help. He adores you two."

Dean sighed and pressed on the gas pedal. "Looks like we're heading to Sioux Falls, then."

-

Julia was right about Bobby; he let them right in, giving tight hugs to all three of them. Despite the fact that he was glad to see him, he had to make sure they were really them—especially since they called ahead and told him what was going on. He handed a flask of holy water to Julia and she took a sip—with no reaction, she quickly went to Bobby's desk, reading the large book on demons that he got out for him.

"Here you go," Bobby handed Dean the flask of holy water and the flask that he didn't offer Julia; she assumed it was alcohol.

"What is this, holy water?" Dean studied the flask.

"That one is. This—" he showed him the other flask and took a sip of it. "is whiskey."

Dean drank the holy water and passed it off to Sam before taking the whiskey Bobby offered him.

"Bobby, thanks," Dean said gratefully as Sam took a sip of holy water and whiskey. "Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense," Bobby waved him off. "Your daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but the last time we saw you—I mean—you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything," Dean reminded him; Julia smiled to herself and continued looking through the book, stopping on the page about devil's traps.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Bobby shrugged indifferently. "John just has that affect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean chuckled lightly while Sam nodded in agreement.

"None of that matters now," Bobby clapped Sam and Dean's shoulders. "All that matters is that you get him back."

"Uncle Bobby," Julia called for him, reading the rest of the writing about devil's traps. "Where did you get this book? It has great info."

Bobby walked around the desk and stopped at her side. "Key of Solomon? Your daddy gave it to me," he told her. "It's the real deal, all right."

Sam drifted to Julia's other side, scanning the page. "And these protective circles, they really work?"

"They do," Julia confirmed before Bobby could say anything. "If a demon walks into one, they can't move and they're powerless. There a few under the floorboards at home."

"It's like a satanic roach motel," Bobby added.

Sam chuckled while Dean walked over to them. "You two know your stuff."

Bobby smiled slightly. "I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious shit you three stepped in."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam looked at him curiously. "How's that?"

"A normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four," Bobby informed them. "This year, I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more."

Julia raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose, alarmed. "Do you know why?"

"No but I know it's something big," Bobby shook his head. "The storm's coming and you boys, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it."

Before Sam and Dean—or Julia, for that matter—could say anything, Bobby's dog, Rumsfeld, started barking loudly. Bobby stiffened and headed over to the window to see what was going on.

"Rumsfeld, what is it?" the barking abruptly stopped; Bobby looked back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Something's wrong."

The door burst open and Meg appeared, easily stepping into the house. Julia and Sam backed up as Dean inconspicuously grabbed the flask of holy water.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg snarled at them.

Dean screwed open the flask and advanced on her. Meg waved her hand and he went flying, straight into one of the huge piles of books. He ended up knocking it over and falling unconscious.

Sam protectively stepped in front of Julia and Bobby while Meg laid her eyes on him.

"I want the Colt, Sam," she said sternly. "The real Colt—right now."

Julia grabbed Sam's arm and slowly backed away into the living room, Bobby right by her side. Their goal was to get Meg to follow them and get stuck under the devil's trap that Bobby had painted onto the ceiling. It was working so far; Meg was steadily approaching them.

"We don't have it on us," Sam lied to her. "We buried it."

"Did I say no more crap?" Meg called him out. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you chuckleheads," she entered the living room, standing right under the devil's trap; Julia had to hide her smirk. "I mean, did you really thing I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually," Julia spoke up, her eyes flicking from Meg to Dean, who was now standing behind her. "We were counting on it."

Meg turned around to look at Dean and, when his eyes went to the ceiling, she followed his gaze. The devil's trap loomed over her, making her unable to move a single toe.

Dean smirked at her, anger blazing in his green eyes. "Gotcha."

Julia, Sam, Dean, and Bobby quickly got to work. Julia grabbed her journal to make sure the exorcism she had memorized when she was a kid was correct and she had all the right words and pronunciations, Sam and Dean got a chair and tied Meg to it, and Bobby went to salt the doors and windows and grab a flask full of holy water.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," Meg drawled, staring over at Sam and Dean.

Dean nor Sam responded to her but Meg did earn herself an eyeroll from Julia.

Bobby came back into the living room. "I salted the doors and windows," he told the three of them. "If there are any demons out there, they ain't getting in."

Dean nodded at him and slowly walked over to Meg. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"You didn't ask very nice."

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean casually corrected himself.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" she scoffed before adding mockingly, "Oh wait, I forgot. You don't."

Julia could feel Dean's energy flip; his anger about his father and the whole demon situation had turned much darker—he was furious and he was going to do whatever it took to get information out of Meg. On the other hand, Meg's energy was pure black, swimming with evil and darkness. It was horrible to experience but her brief run-in with the yellow-eyed demon had been much, much worse.

Dean moved quickly, leaning over Meg with his hands clenched around both arms of her chair. "You think this is a fucking game?" he shouted at her. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming," Meg answered calmly. "I killed him myself."

Dean glared at her, pure hate in his eyes, and harshly slapped her across the face. Julia flinched as Meg's head whipped to the side from the blow but she quickly looked back at him with a smirk.

"That's kind of a turn-on," she said slyly. "you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl," Dean sneered.

Julia exchanged a knowing look with Bobby; they both knew that Meg was possessing someone and the girl she was wearing was more than likely innocent. Bobby stood from his leaning position from the wall and beckoned Dean into the study. Dean followed him with Julia and Sam on his heels.

"You okay?" Sam asked his brother, concerned.

"She's lying," Dean declared. "He's not dead."

"Dean, you got to be careful with her," Bobby advised him. "Don't hurt her."

Dean gave him a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why."

"What are you talking about?" Sam wondered.

"She's possessed," Julia told them. "Meg is possessing that poor girl's body."

Dean glanced back at Meg, who was glaring at him, before turning back to the others. "Are you trying to tell me that there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?"

Bobby and Julia nodded in unison; Dean briefly looked at Meg again.

"That's actually good news," he stated, turning to Julia. "Jules, you still have that exorcism memorized?"

"Yeah," she nodded in confirmation. "and I have it in my journal just in case."

"Good girl," he praised her; she flushed as he turned to Sam and Bobby. "Let's send this bitch back to Hell."

Julia grabbed her journal, opening it up to the pages she bookmarked, while Dean and Sam went to stand in front of Meg. Meg's eyes flashed from Julia to Sam and Dean.

"Are you gonna read me a story?"

Dean angrily gritted his teeth. "Something like that," he looked over to Julia. "Go on, shortcake."

Julia immediately started to recite the exorcism. "Regna terrae, cantate deo, pasallite domino..."

She kept going as Meg smirked at Sam and Dean. "An exorcism? Are you serious?"

"Oh, we're going for it, sweetheart—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards."

"...Tribuite virtutem deo..."

Meg flinched as Julia ended the first phase of the exorcism, grunting in pain. Julia immediately looked to Dean and Sam, wondering if she should keep on going.

Meg looked over her shoulder at Julia and then back at Sam and Dean. "I'm going to kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're gonna burn in Hell," Dean shot back at her. "Unless you tell us where our dad is?"

Meg smiled smugly at him.

"Well, at least you're get a nice tan," he snarked and then nodded at Julia. "Jules."

"Exorcisamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversaii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et sectra diabolica—"

Meg jerked and cried out in pain, trying to fight off the effect that the exorcism had on her. "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes," she shouted at Sam and Dean. "He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat."

Julia continued. "Ergo...

"For your sake, I hope you're lying," Dean leaned over Meg again, pure rage covering his face. "Cause if it's true, I swear to God that I will march into Hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches. So help me, God!"

"...Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, santana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae..." the room started to cool, wind coming out of nowhere and blowing things around. "...Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine. Quem inferi tremunt—"

As Meg made another noise of pain, Dean glared at her. "Where is he?"

Meg gave him a dirty look that was full of pain. "You won't just take dead for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?"

"Dead!"

"No, he's not!" Dean screamed at her. "He is not dead! He can't be!"

Sam gave his brother a look of concern and Dean turned to him, sensing eyes on him.

"What are you looking at?" he asked Sam before turning to Julia. "Keep going."

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut eccelsiam tuam secura tibi facias litertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

Meg screamed but Julia kept going.

"Ut inimicos sanctae eccelesiae humiliare digneris..." Meg's chair started moving, forcing her around the devil's trap. "Ut inimicos sanctae, ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus audi—"

"He will be!" Meg shouted, cutting off Julia.

"Wait, what?" Sam looked down at her in shock.

"He's not dead but he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean asked her harshly.

"You don't."

Dean nodded at Julia to keep going. "Julia!"

Meg spoke up before Julia could start up again. "A building, okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Where? Give us an address."

"I don't know," Meg was breathing harshly.

"And the demon—the one we're looking for—where is it?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Meg repeated. "I swear! That's everything. That's all I know."

Dean stared down at her for a long second, his jaw clenched angrily, and then looked back at Julia. "Finish it."

"What?" Meg protested. "I told you the truth."

"And I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

"I lied," Dean shouted back at her. "Julia!"

Julia wanted nothing more to send Meg back to Hell but the more she thought about it, she wondered if it was a good idea. The girl that Meg was possessing had dropped from seven-stories—if she exorcised Meg, the girl would die. She was sure of it.

"Julia?"

Sam looked as hesitant as Julia did. "Maybe we can still use her," he suggested to Dean. "Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know," Dean spoke lowly.

"She lied!"

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there," Dean reminded him. "We've got to help her."

"We're gonna kill her," Julia walked over to them at the same time as Bobby.

Dean gave her a strange look. "What?"

"You said she fell from a building," Bobby backed her up. "That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die."

Dean inhaled deeply before adopting a stern face. "Listen to me, all three of you. We are not gonna leave like that."

"She's a human being."

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery," Dean snapped at Bobby. "Julia, finish it."

Julia knew that Dean was right but that didn't make her feel any better about what she had to do. At the end of it all, though, she knew it was best to put the girl Meg was possessing out of her misery. She had never been possessed but she knew that it was terrible on the victim.

"Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos. Terribilis deus de scantuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribruite virtutem et fortitudinem plebe suae. Benedictus dues Gloria patri!"

The exorcism worked. Meg screamed as her head was thrown back and black smoke escaped from her mouth. Once the black smoke disappeared, the real Meg Masters' head fell forward, chin pressed against her collar bone.

Julia snapped her journal closed and rushed over to Meg, seeing the blood drip steadily out of her mouth. "She's still alive," she told Dean, Bobby, and Sam after feeling Meg's slow pulse. "Call 9-1-1 and get some water and blankets."

"Thank you," Meg managed to whisper as Julia untied her wrists and ankles from the chair.

"Shh, shh," Julia shushed her gently. "Just hold on, okay?"

"Here," Dean and Sam hovered behind the girls. "Let us get her down."

Julia nodded and stood up. "Be careful."

Meg's bones creaked as Dean and Sam gently picked her up, making Julia flinch and start tearing up. She couldn't stand the girl's cries and whimpers of pain; she felt such sorrow for her and all that she went through.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam apologized as they lowered her to the floor. "It's okay, it's okay."

Julia grabbed a throw pillow from Bobby's couch and gently laid it under her head before kneeling next to Sam.

"A year," Meg wheezed quietly. "It's been a year."

"Shh," Sam comforted her. "Just take it easy."

"I've been awake for some of it," Meg continued. "I couldn't move my own body. The things I did—it's a nightmare."

Tears fell down Julia's cheeks at Meg's admission. It was times like this that Julia questioned God. How could he let good, genuine people like Meg suffer at the hands of evil?

"Was it telling the truth about our dad?" Dean asked her.

Julia gave him a sharp look. "Dean."

"We need to know," he insisted.

"Yes," Meg confirmed breathlessly. "but it wants...you to know...that...they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's alive, none of that matters."

Bobby entered the living room, a glass of water and another blanket in his hand. He handed the water to Dean, who held up Meg's head and helped her drink. Once she was done, Sam gently laid her head back down on the floor.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" he asked her.

"Not there," Meg's breathing was slower now. "Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our dad?"

"By the river...Sunrise..."

"Sunrise?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean? What does that mean?"

"Stop, Dean," Julia sternly before looking down at Meg to comfort her. "It's gonna be okay, Meg. You're safe now."

Meg smiled weakly at her as her heart stopped beating her and breathing stopped. That smile was still on her face when Sam closed her eyes. Julia sighed and bowed her head, saying a prayer for Meg and hoping that she would be going to Heaven where she would be in paradise.

"You three better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here," Bobby told them only minutes later as they all walked into the office-dining room.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean wondered.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out," Bobby took the Key of Solomon off his desk and handed it to Julia. "Here, take this. It belongs to you."

Julia took the book with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle Bobby."

"Thanks for everything," Dean added. "Be careful, all right?"

"You just go find your dad," Bobby clapped his shoulder. "And, when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time."

Sam chuckled. "We will."

-

They arrived in Jefferson City six-and-a-half hours later, thanks to Dean's crazy-ass driving. They stopped just outside of town, in an empty field next to the train tracks, in order to make sure all their weapons were ready to go.

Sam and Julia occupied themselves as Dean checked the weapons, flipping through the Key of Solomon. Julia quietly answered any of Sam's questions—to the best of her abilities, anyway—but kept glancing over at Dean, who was quiet and melancholy.

She pointed out the devil's traps to Sam before she walked over to Dean's side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean said shortly, adding more holy water to their weapon's duffle.

"You're not, Dean," she squeezed her hand through his arm to wrap hers around his waist. Dean easily gave in and relaxed in her hold, pressing his forehead to her hair; she rubbed her thumb against his back to comfort him. "Everything is going to be okay."

"You don't know that," Dean murmured.

"Well, I have faith and I have hope," she replied into his bicep, her lips brushing against the old leather of his jacket. "And you're Dean Winchester. You're invincible."

Dean scoffed slightly and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "Jules..."

Julia lifted her head and happily received the quick peck he gave her on the lips. "I know."

She could feel what he couldn't say. He was grateful and loving and nervous and scared. He was glad she was here with him and Sam and he was glad that she was his and he was hers. She felt the same way. Julia loved him—she was in love with him.

It's funny how you don't notice something—or how you feel—until it comes down to a scary situation. Julia had already known that she liked Dean as more than a friend but she didn't realize she loved him until now. She would die for Dean and she would kill for Dean and she would comfort Dean and she would do anything for him—she was oblivious until this moment.

And she wanted to tell Dean that she was in love with him but she couldn't. Dean wanted to take their relationship slowly and she was pretty sure that she had never heard him say those three words before—not even to Sam. Plus, with the fact that Sam was within hearing distance made her hesitate as well. He didn't know about her and Dean.

Until now, anyway...

Sam appeared out of nowhere and it was Dean who noticed him first. He quickly pulled away from Julia, where they were pressing their foreheads together, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Julia faced Sam, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, hi, Sam."

"Hi there," Sam smirked triumphantly at his best friend and his brother. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"None of your business," Dean said gruffly, unwrapping his arm from around Julia and getting back to work on the weapons. Julia gave Sam a pointed look, silently telling him that she give him details—non-sexual details, of course—later when they were alone.

"You're quiet," Sam changed the subject knowingly.

"Just getting ready."

Sam nodded. "He's gonna be fine, Dean."

Dean didn't answer but Sam nor Julia expected him to. Sam went back to the Key of Solomon and read the last of the page about Devil's traps. "Hey, J, come here."

Julia patted Dean on the lower back, earning herself a small smile, and made her way over to Sam. "What's up?"

"If we draw one of these on the trunk, could a demon get in?" he whispered quietly.

"No," Julia answered softly, shaking her head. "Unless the trap is broken, no demons will be able to get inside."

Sam nodded and pulled out two white wax pencil from his bag and handed one to her. Julia nodded, realizing what he wanted done, and went to the trunk where Dean concentrating on packing the weapons.

While Sam went to the other side of the trunk, she wiped off the dirt that had been coated on Baby from the stretch of driving more than thirty hours in two days. She started drawing a devil's trap on the space she cleared off.

"Dude," Dean huffed, walking over to Sam. "What are you drawing on my car?"

"It's a devil's trap," Sam answered casually. "Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?" Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, where she was just finishing up. "You too, Junior?"

Julia gave him an apologetic smile and tossed the pencil back in Sam's seat. "They turn the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?"

"So, we now have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad," Sam explained patiently.

"What are you talking about? We're bring the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean," Sam shook his head. "We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon. We've got to use them on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam," Dean argued. "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Sam sighed, irritated, and finished his devil's trap. "Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn't want us to bring the gun."

"I don't care, Sam. I don't care what Dad wants," Dean declared firmly. "And since when do you care about what Dad wants?"

"Dean, Sam, come on," Julia sighed. "Now, more than ever, is not a good time to fight."

The brothers either heard what she said but chose not to acknowledge it or they were just ignoring her.

"We want to kill this demon!" Sam exclaimed. "You used to want that, too. Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffed and shook his head. "You're the one who dragged me back into this. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean retorted. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourselves for this thing but you know what? Me and Jules, we're the ones who are gonna have to bury you."

Julia pressed her lips together, already devastated at the mere thought of Sam being dead.

"You're selfish, you know that," Dean continued when Sam sighed. "You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean," Sam argued; Dean scoffed. "I want Dad back but they are expecting us to bring this gun. It they get the gun, they will kill us all. The Colt is our only leverage and you know it. We cannot bring that gun. We can't."

Honestly, Julia didn't know what to think. Both Sam and Dean had good points but there really wasn't a right way to do this. She was more inclined to agree with Sam, though, but she didn't speak up. She was merely a bystander in this fight or back-up when they needed it. Sure, she'd fight like hell but she wouldn't call the shots.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he agreed, "Fine."

"I'm serious, Dean!"

"I said fine, Sam!" Dean raised his voice, very obviously annoyed. He took the Colt out of his pocket and put it close to Sam's face, obnoxiously shaking it, before throwing it into the trunk.

"There's an hour until sunset," Julia spoke up, opening her door. "We better get going."

Dean and Sam nodded, both of them getting into the Impala.

-

They parked the Impala in a free parking lot by the Mississippi River before they started to walk around to see if they could find anything that related to what Meg had told them before she succumbed to her injuries.

The weather was absolutely beautiful and being by the river during summertime reminded Julia of her summers at home. Lake Michigan was practically her home during her least favorite season. The heavenly breeze, the smell of the water, the crashing of waves, the cheerful cries of kids playing with their friends, siblings, and parents...it was one of the truest forms of nostalgia for her.

"Hey, check it out," Dean said suddenly, stopping Sam and Julia and pointing at the nearest apartment building. "I think I know what Meg meant by sunrise."

The apartment building had a large sign in front of it, declaring the name of the company who owned it. Sunrise Apartments.

"Wow."

"Son of a bitch, that's pretty smart," Dean looked reluctant to give the demons any kind of compliment. "I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah and make anybody attack us," Sam pointed out.

"So, we won't be able to exorcise them," Julia hummed. "It's a building full of their pick of humans."

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too," Sam added. "And they could look like anybody."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "This fucking sucks."

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed with him while Julia nodded. "All right, so, how the fuck are we going to get in?"

Dean pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "We can pull the fire alarm," he suggested. "and get out all the civilians."

"But the city will respond in seven minutes," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded. "Exactly."

Within five minutes, the alarm was pulled by Sam and was blaring loudly from almost every part of the building. In the seven minutes that it took the firemen to get to the building, Julia, Sam, and Dean planned out what they were going to do. Dean and Julia would distract one of the firemen while Sam broke into their truck and stole two firemen uniforms. They would go in and Julia would wait by the fire escape to wait for their call before climbing up the apartment.

Julia and Dean joined the group of civilians coming out of the apartment and waited a minute until they approached the fire chief.

"Hey, what's happening?" Dean asked him, acting nervous. "Is it a fire?"

"We're figuring that out right now, sir," the fire chief replied politely. "Just stay back."

"We've got a dachshund upstairs," Julia made her voice shaky and forced herself to tear up. "He pees when he's nervous."

"Sir, ma'am, you have to stay back," the fire chief repeated patiently and started escorting them back to the group of apartment owners.

Once the man left them, Dean turned to Julia with an excited look on his face. "I've always wanted to be a fireman."

Julia grinned at him, melting from how adorable he was. "That's cute."

"Well, I was thinking more sexy than cute," Dean smirked down at her. "Would you like that better?"

Julia flushed and shrugged. "I like you both ways, Dean Winchester, but..."

"But what?"

Julia flashed him a sly but sexy smile. "I think I would prefer the sexy version."

Dean's eyes darkened. "Oh, baby," he groaned quietly so he wasn't overheard by any of the people they were standing next to. "When this is all over, we're getting ourselves a hotel room and we're not leaving for a week."

Julia giggled. "Promise?"

Dean snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, letting her feel his semi-hard cock. "Does this feel like a promise?"

Julia shook her head in amusement and buried her face against his chest. She pressed a chaste kiss between his pecks, near where his heart would be.

"Dean, Julia!" Sam approached them, looking annoyed by their flirting in the middle of a very serious situation. "Let's go!"

Dean and Sam quickly changed into the firemen uniforms that Sam snatched and grabbed holy water, salt, and a EMF device. Dean made sure that he gave Julia a good-luck kiss—it was kind of freeing that Sam knew about them now—before he and Sam made their way into the apartment building.

Julia stood on the first level of the fire escaped, waiting until Sam and Dean called her with the location of the apartment the demons were holed up in. Her phone rang only six minutes after the brothers left, telling her that they were on the third floor and it was the third apartment.

Julia raced up the stairs, climbing as fast as she could to the third floor. She counted the windows, hoping that every apartment had two, and chose the one that was likely to be the third apartment. She was able to unlock the window with the knife that Dean got for her and, when she slid it open, she sighed in relief when she saw John passed out and tied to the bed.

She could hear a commotion going on outside of the bedroom but she ignored it for the moment, climbing into the apartment. Once she was securely inside, she rushed over to the bed, checked John's pulse—she was very relieved to know that he was still alive—and started untying the ropes around his wrists.

There was a lot of banging going on in what she assumed was the living room and kitchen but it died down within seconds.

"Julia?" she heard Dean call. "Jules, are you here?"

"In here!" she told him loudly, taking out her flask of holy water. "I found your dad!"

The door quickly opened and Sam and Dean walked in, staring at their father in shock.

"Dad?"

"He's still breathing," Julia informed them.

Sam sighed in relief while Dean went to her side. He started shaking his father, trying to get him to wake up. "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

"Hold on," Julia cautioned him, screwing the cap off her flask.

"What are you doing?"

"He could be possessed," she answered Dean. She poured some water on John's face, relieved when nothing happened and he started to wake up. "All good."

"Julia?" John groaned groggily. "Why are you pouring water on me?"

Julia laughed lightly as Dean gave John a worried look. "Dad, are you okay?"

"They've been drugging me," John gave a non-answer. "Where's the Colt?"

Of course that was what he was worried about.

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," Sam assured him.

"Good boys, good boys," John breathed.

Dean and Sam helped John off the bed, wrapping his arms around each of their shoulders, and started carrying him out of the bedroom, following Julia. Just as they were about to reach the kitchen, where the door was located, it was burst open by a fireman and a mail carrier.

Julia immediately turned around. "Go, go!" she urged the brothers. "The fire escape."

Sam shut the bedroom door behind them and, while the fireman demon was destroying the door with his ax, he sprinkled a line of salt in front of it. Meanwhile, Julia was helping Dean and John out onto the fire escape.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean called urgently.

Sam hurried over and climbed out of the apartment, handing the salt to Julia as he helped Dean with John. Julia poured salt on the window sill just as the demons broke into the room and quickly followed Sam, Dean, and John down the rusty escape.

When they reached the ground, Julia and Dean held onto John while Sam went for the Impala. As he was crossing the alleyway, he was tackled to the ground by a demon.

"Sam!" Julia shouted in shock as the demon started wailing on him. "Go," she told Dean. "I've got your dad."

Dean sprinted over to the demon, who was close to killing Sam, and kicked him in the face. The demon hardly reacted and turned his head to the right; Dean went flying through the air and landed on the windshield of the nearest car.

"DEAN!"

The demon continued to beat Sam up when, out of nowhere, there was the sound of a gun going off. The demon was shot in the head; he flickered with an orange light before falling to the ground, dead. Julia looked over at Dean in absolute shock and saw the Colt in his hand, aimed right where the demon had been.

She quickly pulled herself together. "Let's go!"

Dean shook himself out of the daze he seemed to be in, put the Colt back in his jeans, and ran toward Sam. "Sam!" he exclaimed. "Sam, come on!"

Sirens started to approach them. "Hurry!" Julia urged them, keeping her hold on John. "Dean, Sam, we have to get out of here!"

Dean finally got Sam to his feet and Julia helped John walk over to them. Once she got the first aid kit out of the trunk, she joined Sam in the backseat and Dean took off.

She made sure she stopped Sam's bleeding, pressing some gauze against the cuts on his face. Once the blood stopped, she made sure to disinfect the wounds, ignoring the winces and grunts of pain that Sam gave.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted under her breath the whole time.

By the time she was finished putting butterfly bandages on the cuts that needed to stay closed, it was pitch black outside and they were arriving to a nearby safe house that the Petersen-Alexander family owned.

Once they entered the cabin, Julia demanded that John and Sam take a seat while she salted all the doors and windows. She took out one of the large containers of salt hidden under one of the kitchen cabinets and Dean volunteered to stay with John and Sam and salt the windows in the dining room-kitchen.

Julia took care of the rest of the cabin, including three bedrooms, the living room, and two bathrooms. It only took ten minutes to take care of the bedrooms and bathroom and she was in the living room when Dean joined her.

"How are they doing?" she asked him quietly as he saddled up to her side.

"They just need a little rest, that's all," Dean replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she deflected; and she really was fine, despite the fact that had been scared out of her wits only two hours earlier. "How are you?"

"I'll survive," he grumbled. "Hey, do you think that we were followed?"

"I have no idea but I doubt it," Julia sighed, finishing up the last window. She turned in his arms, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his chest. "We got this place for a reason. It's secluded and so far away from civilization it might as well be in the middle of Russia."

Dean snickered slightly, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "I don't think that made any sense."

"Russia is barren, Dean," she told him matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty sure that the people who live in New York City outnumber the whole population of Russia by, like, two times."

"Hmm, okay, smarty-pants."

"Mmm," Julia hummed. "I'm glad you brought the Colt. If you hadn't..."

"I'm not going to say I-told-you-so but..."

"But?"

"But I told you so," Dean sighed, his amusement fading. "Jules..."

"Hmm?"

"You know that demon I shot? There was a person in there."

Julia's heart fell at the reminder. She wasn't mad at Dean and she certainly didn't blame him for anything. He had saved his brother's life—the person he loved most in the world—and there wasn't really another choice. They couldn't exorcise him and he was on the brink of killing Sam.

"Dean," she rubbed his back with her thumbs. "You didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, I know," Dean agreed quietly "but that's not what bothers me."

Julia moved her head so her chin rested on his chest, looking up at his beautiful freckled face. "Then what is bothering you?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg..." he swallowed harshly. "I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch," he confessed. "For you or Sam and Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh...it scares me sometimes."

Usually Julia would know what to say to Dean that would comfort him. But what was she supposed to say to his admission? Thank you? That was awkward and by the way Dean was talking about it, she didn't think he was appreciate that. That being said, she knew how he felt; she'd do anything for the Winchesters, Bobby, her dad, sisters, brother-in-law, niece, and aunt. She was in the same boat as him.

"It shouldn't," John declared as he and Sam walked into the living room. "You did good."

Dean pulled away from Julia and gave his father a look of surprise. "You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"For using a bullet."

"Mad?" John scoffed lightly. "I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you watch out for this family. You always have."

Instantly, Julia was suspicious. This wasn't like John—one time, when Dean sixteen and Sam was twelve, he got into huge trouble for stealing peanut butter and bread from a gas station so he could feed Sam. He was arrested and, when the police called John, he told them that Dean could rot in jail for stealing. At that time, he was looking out for Sam, too, but John sure didn't appreciate it.

And there were many times after that when Dean took care of Sam in John's absence. So, either he changed his attitude within the past few days, or something was wrong. Julia squeezed Dean's hand as a warning and he squeezed back right away, signaling to her that he was suspicious too.

It couldn't be a coincidence that the lights started flickering at that exact moment. The wind blowing around the trees suddenly harshened. John walked over to the nearest window and looked out at the woods around them.

"It found us," he told Sam, Dean, and Julia. "It's here?"

Sam bristled. "The demon?"

John nodded and ordered, "Sam, salt the doors and windows."

"Julia and Dean already did that."

"Well, check it, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed and left the room.

John turned to Dean now. "Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

Dean pulled the Colt out of his jeans but hesitated when John stuck out his hand for it. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation but it vanished."

"This is me," John insisted. "I won't miss. Give me the Colt, hurry. Son, please."

Dean grabbed Julia's hand again and pulled her with him as he backed away from his dad.

John shook his head angrily. "Give me the gun," he ordered firmly. "What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious that I wasted a bullet," Dean muttered. "He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one."

Obviously Dean had been thinking along the same lines as her.

John blinked as Dean raised the Colt, aiming it right at his chest. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me," John insisted.

"I know my dad better than anyone and you ain't him."

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Dean retorted. "Stay the fuck back."

Sam rushed back into the living room, eyes wide with shock at the scene he walked into. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

"Your brother has lost his mind," John told him.

Julia rolled her eyes and looked over at Sam. "He's not your dad."

Sam blinked in shock. "What?"

"I think he's possessed," Dean stated, upset. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to them, Sammy," John pleaded to his youngest son. "

Sam immediately turned to Dean and Julia. "How do you know?"

"He's...he's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this," John pointed out. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me."

Sam looked back and forth between his father and Dean and Julia, trying to decide what he should do and who should he trust.

But the demon inside of John was right; they didn't have time for this. "Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered before raising her voice. "Christo."

John blinked, his eyes changing from his usual chocolate brown to a hazy yellow. The same yellow eyes that the demon at the Holden's house had. He chuckled lowly. "I almost had you."

None of them could even take a single step before each of them were thrown to separate walls, hovering a foot or so into the air. Julia grunted in pain, pressure building in her abdomen and lungs. Dean and Sam weren't fairing any better, both of them struggling against the force the demon had them in.

The demon picked up the Colt and examined it, shaking his head. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam spat through gritted teeth; the demon nodded. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me," the demon shrugged.

"Why didn't the holy water work on you?" Julia asked with some difficulty, tilting her head upwards to try to ease the pressure on her lungs.

The demon looked over at her and laughed. "You think something like that works on something like me, Julia?"

Sam clenched his jaw and struggled against the demon's force. Unfortunately, he was unable to move. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that would be a neat trick," the demon drawled mockingly. "In fact, here—" he put the Colt on the coffee table. "Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

Sam locked his gaze on the Colt but after a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Well, this is fun," the demon sighed wistfully as he walked over to Julia, studying her with curious eyes. "I could've have killed you a hundred times today, but this...well, this is worth the wait."

Julia flinched as he reached for her, cupping her cheek roughly. "Get your hands off of me!"

"Aw, so precious," the demon clicked his tongue. "You're as threatening as a fruit fly...And they say you're the Chosen one? Please."

"Get away from her!" Dean shouted, trying to get out of the demon's hold.

The demon laughed and left Julia, wandering over to Dean. "Your dad—he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Let him go or I swear to God—"

"What?" the demon cut him off. "What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice," he stepped closer to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley?" the demon continued on. "That was my boy. You understand?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family?" the demon narrowed his eyes. "You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" he smirked. "Oh, that's right. I forgot; I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled at him.

"I wanna know why?" Sam spoke up. "Why'd you do it?"

The demon looked over at Sam. "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?"

"Yeah."

The demon scoffed and turned back to Dean. "You know, I never told you this but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. He'd been shopping for rings and everything."

Julia pressed her lips together sadly; Sam and Jess were so close to a happy ending, so close. It destroyed her to know that Jess was dead and Sam was never going to have a normal life again.

"You wanna know why?" the demon backed away from Dean, making his way toward Sam. "Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?" Sam asked, voice hard.

"My plans for you, Sammy," the demon said simply. "You and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?" Dean interrupted, hoping to get the demon's attention off of Sam. "Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

The demon scoffed. "Funny," he walked back over to Dean. "But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family but the truth is, they don't need you," the demon lied. "Not like you need them. Sam? He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. And your girl over there?" he nodded at Julia. "She'll get over you soon. It'll be like you never existed."

"Shut up!" Julia shouted at him. "God, you talk more than my sister."

The demon rolled his eyes at her and Dean shook his head, silently telling to keep her mouth shut.

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh?" he got the demon's attention again, smiling sarcastically. "Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted them."

The demon took a couple steps away from Dean and bowed his head. And then Dean was screaming in pain and the demon was looking back up at him.

"DEAN!" Julia and Sam shouted in unison before Julia continued, "Stop! Stop it!"

Dean's chest started bleeding heavily; it looked like he had a waterfall of blood falling over him, dripping down his chest and staining his gray t-shirt.

"Stop!"

"Dad! Dad," Dean grunted desperately, trying to get through to his father. "don't you let it kill me!"

The demon continued to attack Dean.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as Julia cried in fear. "No!"

"Dad, please," Dean whispered before his head drooped and he fell unconscious.

"DEAN!"

Suddenly, the demon paused and, when he spoke, there was pain and sadness in his voice. "Stop. Stop it."

Julia saw the change in his energy as John took control of his body. The three of them dropped to the ground, the demon's force no longer holding them; once she steadied herself, Julia rushed over to Dean's side, putting pressure on his wounded chest, and Sam reached for the gun, aiming it at his father.

Julia patted Dean's cheeks, trying to wake him up, all the while looking between him and Sam and John. His energy changed again and the yellow eyes appeared; the demon was back in control of John's body.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," he taunted Sam.

"I know," Sam said harshly and lowered the Colt, aiming at John's right leg and pulling the trigger.

The bullet shot strait into John's left thigh; his body flashed with a white light but it didn't kill him like they had expected it to. John's body still fell to the floor, though, and as soon as he was down, Dean woke up, wheezing.

"Dean," Julia sighed in relief. "Thank God."

"What's happening?" he breathed.

"You lost a lot of blood, so stay still, okay?" she advised him. "Sam's checking on your dad right now."

"Is he okay?"

"Sam, how's John looking?" she called over to him.

Sam didn't get to answer; John suddenly gasped loudly, his back arching severely.

"Sammy!" he shouted desperately. "It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it! You shoot me, you shoot me in the heart, son!"

Sam shakily raised the Colt, aiming at John's chest.

"Sam, don't!" Dean protested as loudly at he could. He tried to sit up but Julia had to take most of his weight. "Don't you do this. Don't you do this."

"You do this, Sammy!" John ordered his youngest son. "Shoot me, son! I can't hold onto it much longer! I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Julia shook her head at Sam.

"Sam..."

Sam lowered the gun and a half-second later, John's mouth opened and black smoke erupted from it. It quickly left the cabin through the floorboards, leaving John to stare at Sam in disappointment.

They didn't have time to just sit around and accuse each other of what they did wrong. Dean was severely wounded and John wasn't much better. Julia and Sam quickly scooped them up and helped them out of the cabin and into the Impala.

Julia slid into the backseat behind Sam, who was going to drive, and opened the first aid kit that she, thankfully, didn't put away when they arrived. She ripped open a few packages of gauze as Sam started to drive and passed one patch up to John to press against his bullet wound.

"Hold on, Dean," she breathed, pressing the gauze to his bloody chest. "Just hold on for me, okay? You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

The closest town with a hospital was an hour away; Sam drove as fast as he could and, within less than a half-hour, they were only ten minutes away.

"Just hold on, all right," Sam spoke up as John groaned in pain, having put on a new patch of gauze on his wound. "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," John grunted. "Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eyes on this? Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything."

Sam looked in the rearview mirror, checking on his brother and best friend. Julia was still putting pressure on Dean's wound, stroking his hair every few seconds, and Dean was halfway unconscious, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to stay awake.

"No, sir," he finally replied to John. "Not before everything."

John shook his head in disagreement.

"Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left," Sam said optimistically. "We just have to start over, all right? I mean, we already found the demon—"

Julia,

When you were born, I remember taking one look at you and knowing that our family was complete. You weren't an expected child but you weren't an unwelcome one, either. Your mother and I knew that you would be a blessing, just like each of your siblings. And we were right. Our lives would not have been the same without you.

You're special, kiddo.

You were young when your mom got her diagnosis but you still knew that something was wrong. You were scared but you still put a smile on your face for Naomi whenever you saw her. You were strong for her. You've always been so strong and I always thought that you got that from me but I know it's not. You got that from Naomi. All of you kids got her strength. You and your siblings have been there for each other through thick and thin, even when I wasn't there. Never let that go, Julia. You will always need your family.

I'm sorry that I left but I have something important to do. John knows that and he's accepted that I have done all I can to help him with the demon. This important task is big—bigger than just me—so I don't know if I will see you again for a while. It could be months but it could also be years.

I just want you to know that I'm proud of you, Jujube. I always have been and I always will be. I know your mother would be very happy to see the woman you have become. I know I am.

I love you, kiddo.

Lucas Alexander

Julia wiped the tears from her eyes and set the letter down on her lap. Her dad was gone again and she didn't know whether to be sad or angry. The sad part of her was winning, though. Luke was saying goodbye in the letter and even though he had never been good with words, she felt the love he had for her and her family. Even with that love, though, she didn't want to say goodbye. She had just lost Levi, she didn't want to lose her dad, too.

When she had woken up that morning, John was the first person she saw. He had pulled her aside to break the news that Luke had left for an important hunt and apologized before giving her the letter Luke wrote for her. At first, she was in shock but now she was confused.

What could her dad possibly be doing? What was oh-so important task that needed to be done? Why would it take so long?

Julia didn't just feel sad for herself, either. At least she got to see him. Abby and Beth hadn't and that was going to destroy them. Abby was the closest to their father but Beth had always been a daddy's girl, too. Julia only hoped that Luke sent them letters or called them to tell them what was going on. Otherwise, the three of them were pretty much left in the dark.

Julia grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened it, sending Beth a text message.

Jules: Did Dad send you a letter?

It didn't take long for her oldest sister to reply.

Beth: Yeah. He sent one to Abs, too. Call me when you have the time

Julia sent a confirmation back and sighed in relief, glad that Luke had made contact with her sisters, too.

"So, this is it," John told Sam and Dean as the two of them looked over the various research that he had gathered on the demon that killed Mary and Jess; Julia snapped her phone shut and slid off the bed she was sharing with Sam, heading over to the table where the Winchester boys were huddled. "This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just nothing...Until about a year ago. For the first time, Luke picked up a trail and called me."

"And that's when you took off," Dean finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

John nodded. "Yeah, that's right," he confirmed. "The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

"What's the trail?" Julia asked, her eyes shifting from the information on the wall to John.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California," John explained. "Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah," John nodded. "The night of the kid's six-month birthday."

Sam stiffened, looking at his father in shock. "I was six months old that night?"

"Exactly six months."

"So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me?" when John avoided his eyes, Sam scoffed. "So, Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?"

"We don't know that, Sam," Dean stated.

"Oh, really?" Sam huffed. "Because I'd say we're pretty damn sure."

Dean gave him a frustrated look. "For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault."

"Right," Sam raised his voice. "It's not my fault but it's my problem!"

"No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!"

Julia sighed and walked over so she stood between the brothers, gently grabbing their arms. "That's enough," she said calmly. "Come on, settle down."

And, like magic, Sam and Dean took deep breaths and calmed down. Julia looked at them in surprise as they turned to John to focus back on the demon. Either they weren't really upset or she had forcefully calmed them down and she had no idea how she did it.

"So, why is he doing it?" Sam asked John. "What does he want?"

John's curious gaze went from Julia to Sam. "Look, I wish I had more answers, I do. Luke and I were always one step behind it," he sighed sadly. "We never got there in time to save..."

Everyone shifted uncomfortably as he trailed off, knowing exactly what he wasn't saying.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Dean spoke up, looking to John for answers.

"There's signs," John told him. "It took us a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires. Signs crop up in the area; cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms..."

"Demonic omens," Julia muttered thoughtfully, wrinkling her nose.

John nodded at her. "And then I went back and checked and..."

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean realized.

"A week before your mother died," John confirmed before looking at Sam sadly. "And in Palo Alto, before Jessica."

Julia pursed her lips together, her eyes stinging, and grabbed Sam's hand. She squeezed it tightly, knowing that if she was having trouble, he was two times worse. He bowed his head, holding onto her tightly and drawing comfort from her.

"And these signs, they're starting again."

Sam looked up. "Where?"

"Salvation, Iowa."

-

It was a ten-hour drive from Manning, Colorado to Salvation, a little town an hour outside of Des Moines, Iowa. Sam and Dean took turns driving through boring Nebraska, taking their time off to sleep, while Julia switched between taking naps, reading, or talking to whoever was driving so they wouldn't fall asleep.

She was able to talk to Beth and Abby, both of whom were equally upset about the letters that they received from Luke. Julia was even informed that Taylor, Lizzie, and Maggie got their own letters, which somehow made Luke leaving all the more official. Beth was really torn up about her letter and Julia could tell that Abby was, too, but she wasn't one to share her emotional distress. Abigail Petersen was the closest you could get to a female Dean; always staying strong for others in their time of need while hurting on the inside.

After a long drive, they had just entered Salvation's town limits when John pulled his truck over to the side of the road. Dean followed his lead and all three of them got out of the car to see what was going on.

"God damn it!" John angrily slammed his hand against the bed of his truck. "Son of a bitch!"

Dean gave his dad a concerned look. "What is it?"

"I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine," John confirmed for Dean. "Jim Murphy's dead."

Julia exhaled sharply at the news. "Pastor Jim?" her voice wavered. "How?"

Pastor Jim had been an uncle-figure to her and her siblings just like John was. He was a faithful man like her family and had trained in the hunting life with her dad, though he was a couple years older. Before he retired and went to preaching full time, the Petersen family used to see him every year around summertime.

He was also important to the Winchesters for the same reason. Sam and Dean had spent more time combined with Pastor Jim and Bobby Singer than their dad growing up. Sam had always told her that he liked staying at Pastor Jim's house because he'd make good spaghetti.

"His throat was slashed. He bled out," John sighed. "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," Sam stated flatly. "The demon?"

"I don't know," John shook his head. "Could be he just got careless and he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do you wanna do?"

"Now we act like every second counts," John declared. "There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up and cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids," Sam pointed out. "How do we know which one is the right one?"

"We check them all, that's how," John said sternly. "You got any better ideas?"

Sam quickly shook his head. "No, sir."

John nodded and silently dismissed them; Julia paused as she turned back to the Impala, sensing his energy. He was angry and upset, a little guilty. Even if the man acted like a cold drill sergeant most of the time, it didn't mean that he didn't have feelings like everyone else.

"Uncle John, are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

Dean and Sam looked back at Julia before their eyes slid over to their father as they waited for him to answer her.

"Yeah," John's tone was exhausted; it was clear that he just wanted this all to be over with. "It's Jim, you know? I can't..." he paused for a second, his determination strengthening. "This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

-

They split up just like John said they would. John went to the women and children's hospital while Dean went to Salvation Memorial, and Julia and Sam went to the medical center.

Julia and Sam acted as police officers, asking the receptionist on the pediatric floor for all the records of the babies that would have turned six months old that day. It took a while for them to gather all the information but, in the end, there were only ten records they had to jot down.

It was when they were leaving the medical center that they had trouble. Julia was in the middle of reciting some of the records for Sam when he stopped in his tracks. He winced painfully and held the bridge of his nose, like he usually did when he was having one of his visions.

"Sam, are you all right?" Julia anxiously asked him, stashing the notebook under her arm so she could steady him. "Sam?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm just..." he paused, grunting as another wave hit him. His energy was twisting just like the last time he had a vision and it worried her. "I'm getting something..."

He winced, unable to speak again while the rest of his vision passed. Julia just made sure that she was staying calm and steadied him, making soothing noises as he continued to see whatever was coming to him.

"A train," he whispered once his vision was finished.

"A train?" Julia stood on her tiptoes to put the back of her hand against his forehead to check for a fever; he felt normal. "Tell me what you saw, S."

"I saw and woman and her baby," Sam breathed, pulling his backpack around his body so he could pull a map of Salvation out of one of the pockets. "I kept hearing a train and the—the demon was there."

"Okay," Julia nodded, pulling the notebook out from underneath her arm. "Give me a location of the train. Maybe something will match."

Sam nodded and pointed at the map, his finger trailing the marked train tracks. "All right, there's a Violet Avenue."

Julia went through the list of names they wrote down, wrinkling her nose in concentration. "There's one on here," she told him. "Rosie Holden, born to Monica and Charlie Holden."

"Let's go."

The Holden household was only two blocks from the medical center. They had to cross through a park that was strangely full of kids for a rainy day but the neighborhood the new parents lived in was nice. If this had been another life, Julia could see herself living on a street like this.

Luckily, just as they crossed onto Violet Avenue, Sam pointed out a woman only a few years older than them, pushing a baby stroller on the sidewalk and holding an umbrella over her head. He whispered to Julia that it was the woman he saw in his vision.

"Hi," Sam greeted the woman when they approached her just as she was attempting to close her umbrella and keep a hold of her baby's stroller. "Here, let me hold that for you. You look like you don't need that anymore."

"Oh," the woman smiled kindly as Sam made sure the stroller kept still. "Thanks."

Julia grinned and looked under the hood of the stroller, taking a peek at the baby. She was the cutest little girl—but most babies were cute, it was just science—with long eyelashes and big brown eyes. "Wow, she's beautiful," she complimented the woman. "Look at those eyelashes. Is she yours?"

"Yeah," the woman nodded proudly.

"Oh, wow, hi," Sam cooed to the baby. "Sorry, we're being rude. I'm Sam and this is Julia. We just moved in up the block."

"Oh, hey, I'm Monica," Monica perked up in realization and introduced herself before looking down at her baby. "This is Rosie."

"Rosie," Sam confirmed while Julia smiled, glad that they found the woman that Sam had a vision of. "Hi, Rosie."

The baby just stared at him, quietly picked at the blanket that covered her.

"So, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you," Julia silently awed as Rosie blinked up at her and Sam. "She such a good baby."

"I know," Monica nodded. "I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear, it's—it's like she's reading your mind."

That made Julia pause but her smile didn't falter. If the demon was coming for Rosie and Monica tonight, just like it did for Sam and Mary, did that mean Rosie was like Sam? Did she have mental abilities like him already? Or was that why the demon was coming in the first place?

"What about you, Monica?" Sam wondered politely. "Have you lived here long?"

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born," Monica informed them, pointing to the house they had all stopped in front of.

"And how old is Rosie?"

They already knew how old the baby was from her records but they needed to make sure that they were the family the demon was coming after.

"She's six months today," Monica looked down at the stroller fondly. "She's big, right? Growing like a weed."

"Yeah," Sam laughed sadly, looking down at Rosie; Julia grabbed his free hand, squeezing it tightly. "Monica..."

"Yeah?"

"Just, uh, just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, you too," Monica smiled gratefully. "We'll see you both around."

Julia nodded and waved as she started walking again, up her driveway where an SUV had just pulled in. A man Monica's age got out of the vehicle and greeted his girls with fond kisses that brought a sad smile to Julia's face. They had to make sure the demon didn't ruin this family. They just had to.

-

"A vision," John's voice was flat as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

After speaking with Monica, Rosie's mother, Julia called Dean while Sam freaked out. He and John were already done with their recon missions and had rented a motel room for their use. She had explained to the oldest Winchester brother what had happened to Sam. Sam had then pried the phone from her hand to tell Dean that they needed to tell John what exactly was going on.

Telling John about Sam's visions didn't exactly go well.

"Yes," Sam answered, pressing his fingers against his pounding head. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because...?"

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them."

"It started out as nightmares," Dean stepped in, moving from his spot on the bed next to John and making his way over to the table where Julia and Sam were seated. "Then it started happening while he was awake."

"Yeah," Sam breathed, agreeing with his brother. "It's like—I dunno—it's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon, the stronger the visions get."

John bristled and set his annoyed gaze on his sons. "All right, when were you going to tell me about this?"

"We didn't know what it meant," Dean offered tensely.

"Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me," John glared at him.

Julia shook her head in disapproval; there had been zero times that John had picked up the phone, despite each of them calling many, many times over the last nine months. He had practically abandoned his sons and now he was getting onto Dean for not getting a hold of him? It was his fault that Dean—or Sam, for that matter—didn't inform him about what was going on.

Dean scoffed. "Call you? Are you kidding me?" he asked in disbelief. "Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? I called you when Julia was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the fucking lottery."

Julia was surprised by Dean's words but proud, nevertheless. Dean had always followed orders and never argued with his dad; he had always taken John's crap without protest. It was nice to see him breaking out of his daddy's-little-soldier persona and coming into his own person.

Not to mention that she had a thing for angry Dean. He was gorgeous, what could she say?

John was silent for a few seconds before he answered. "You're right," he admitted; Dean relaxed, having tensed when he realized what he had told his father. "Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours—"

Of course, Julia mentally scoffed.

"—you're right. I'm sorry."

"Look guys, visions or no visions, the fact is that we know the demon is coming tonight," Sam spoke up. "And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through."

"No, they're not," John declared firmly. "No one is, ever again."

Sam's phone rang at that moment; he flipped it open and looked at the caller ID—which declared it was an unknown number—and answered the call, putting it on speakerphone.

"Hello?"

"Sam?" a woman spoke.

"Who is this?"

"Think real hard, it will come to you."

Sam's face hardened. "Meg."

Julia stiffened at the mention of the woman who had killed her brother. She had heard from Dean that she fell out of the building when Sam trashed the altar she was using to control the Daeva. If she was still alive—because Julia doubted that she'd just survive a seven-story drop like that—it meant that Meg was probably possessing the poor girl's dead body.

Dean took the place behind Julia, putting his large hands on her shoulders comfortingly. Absentmindedly, forgetting that John nor Sam knew about them, she reached up and held the hand on her left shoulder.

"Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window," Sam said, his voice low and tense.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Meg said sourly. "That really hurt my feelings, by the way."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop."

"Let me speak to your dad."

Sam nervously looked over at John, who was slowly making his way over to the table where the rest of them were gathered. "My dad?" he faked confusion. "I don't know where my dad is."

Meg clicked her tongue. "It's time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him now."

John held out his hand to Sam and the youngest Winchester reluctantly handed the phone over.

"This is John."

"Howdy, John," Meg chirped. "I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood."

Julia inhaled sharply, squeezing Dean's hand at the mention of Pastor Jim. Dean returned the gesture and rubbed her palm with his thumb.

"Still there, John-boy?"

"I'm here," John confirmed shakily.

"Well, that was yesterday," Meg boasted. "Today, I'm in Lincoln, Ohio, visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi."

A man spoke now, his voice shaky and frantic. "John, whatever you do, don't give—"

Meg shushed him, cutting him off.

"Caleb?" John stiffened; Julia and Sam exchanged concerned looks while Dean tightened his grip on her. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."

"We know you have the Colt, John."

John paused for a second. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, okay," Meg scoffed. "Well, listen to this—"

They could all hear the quick slash of a knife and then there was choked gasping. They assumed the worst; Meg had just slashed Caleb's throat and there was nothing they could do to save him.

"Caleb?" John called, paling considerably, his eyes sparkling with tears.

"You hear that?" Meg taunted him. "That's the sound of your friend dying...Now, let's try this again. We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war—and this is what war looks like. It has causalities."

John angrily clenched his jaw. "I'm gonna kill you, you know that?"

"Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure," Meg scolded him mockingly. "So, this is the thing. We're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you've ever loved? They'll all die unless you give us that gun. Next on the list is Luke Alexander, so I'd think hard."

Julia gasped softly at the mention of her father. She had no idea where he was and now demons were going to be on his ass unless John gave them the Colt. While Dean clenched her hand tightly, John gave her an assuring look. She relaxed as much as she could; John wouldn't let her dad get killed.

"I'm waiting, Johnny. You better answer before the buzzer."

"Okay," John agreed quietly.

"Sorry? I didn't quite get that."

"I said okay," his voice hardened, a murderous glint in his brown eyes. "I'll bring you the Colt."

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln on the corner of Wabash and Lake," Meg informed him. "You're gonna meet me there."

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there."

"Meet me there at midnight tonight."

"That's impossible," John scoffed. "I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on a plane."

"Oh," Meg clicked her tongue. "Well, I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide to make it, come alone."

She ended the call, then. John flipped the phone shut and tossed it back to Sam. Julia sighed and let of Dean's hand, though he still hovered behind her worriedly.

"I'm just gonna say it," she spoke up, her eyes nervously flickering over John. "I think Meg's a demon."

"Really?" Sam gave her a surprised look.

John agreed with her. "Either that or she's possessed by one—"

Julia mentally disagreed. Every demon had to possess a body. Otherwise they wouldn't be anything other than a cloud of black smoke. She certainly wasn't going to correct John, though; she was way smarter than that.

"—it doesn't really matter."

"So, what do we do?" Dean wondered.

A determined expression fell over John's face. "I'm going to Lincoln."

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Julia spoke in unison.

"It doesn't look like we have a choice," John stated firmly. "If I don't go, a lot of people die. Luke will die and so many of our other friends."

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family," Sam reminded him, a conflicted look on his face. "That gun is all we have. You can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over?" Dean, Julia, and Sam gave John confused looks. "Look, besides us, Luke, and a couple of vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"An antique store," John corrected him.

"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?"

"Look," John sighed. "as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"But for how long?" Julia spoke up. "What happens when she does figure it out?"

"I just—" John paused before continuing. "I just need to buy a few hours, that's all."

Sam gave him a knowing look. "You mean for us," he stated. "You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No, Sam, I want to stop losing the people we love," John declared. "I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want...I want Mary alive. It's just—I just want this to be over."

-

Julia tightened her grip on her rosary, blessing the jug of water for John. He had confessed that Luke was usually the one that made holy water, so she had volunteered to bless the water for his trip to Lincoln. She had also written the blessing down for him, so he could make more for himself if he needed it.

Sam and John stood in front of the mechanical weapon stash, making sure everything was prepped and waiting to go. They were talking about something but it was too quiet and she was too concentrated to eavesdrop on their conversation. The three of them were waiting for Dean to come back from an antique store from the next town over with a gun that resembled the Colt.

She finished blessing the water, finishing her prayer, and brought the jug back over to John. He gave her a thankful smile and wordlessly put it in the stash after filling up his flask.

"Sam, do you mind if I speak to Julia alone?"

Shit, Julia panicked to herself, did I do something wrong?

Sam simply nodded; John led Julia around a hundred feet away from his youngest son so he couldn't overhear what they were going to talk about.

"Did I do something wrong?" she blurted out nervously.

John had always made her nervous. She didn't know why, though; he had never been rude to her or did anything to hurt her. In fact, he was nicer to her than he was his sons, but she chalked that up to the fact that she wasn't a Winchester and he didn't have to father her like he did Sam and Dean.

"No, of course not," John shook his head. "I just wanted to tell you that you can back out of this, if you want to. This isn't your fight."

Julia's mind raced. She wasn't going to walk away from Sam and Dean; they were her best friend and lover, respectively, and she loved them to death. They had been part of her family since before she was even born. You can't walk away from family and she wanted to help the Winchester finish what that demon started twenty-two years before when it killed Mary.

And, this was a little selfish, but she wanted Meg to die, too. She could hardly stomach the fact that Meg was still around but Levi wasn't. Abby and Beth weren't there so they couldn't do anything about it, but Julia was. She owed it to herself, her family, and—most importantly—Levi to make sure that Meg was sent straight back to Hell.

"I'm not walking away," she told John firmly. "You guys are my family, too, and Meg killed my brother. This isn't something that I can just ignore while leaving you guys in danger. If I can help, then I will. I'm not leaving."

John sighed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You're a good person, Julia," he smiled softly; Julia turned away, embarrassed. "And you're good for my boys. Especially Dean..."

Julia quickly looked back at him, shocked. "How do you—how do you...?"

"How do I know that you and Dean are together?" John supplied when she trailed off. "It's hard to miss it. You two are like magnets or something. Either way, it's good. You guys have always been close. Do you love him?"

"I don't—I don't know," Julia stammered, flushing. "I'm certainly heading that way, though."

"Be patient with him," he advised.

"I will," she promised him and then joked, "This is one of the things I can be patient about."

John shook his head with a small grin. "Just make sure to look after my boys, all right?"

"Of course."

"Let's get back over to Sam. I'm sure Dean will be back any minute now."

John was right; only a minute after they rejoined Sam, Dean showed up. He parked the Impala only a few feet away from the truck and got out, carrying a wrinkled paper bag that was conformed into an outline of a gun.

"Did you get it?" John asked him.

Dean gave him the bag without a word; John pulled the gun out. It was nearly identical to the Colt but it was easy to tell the difference since they knew what the actual Colt looked like.

"You know this is a trap, don't you?" Dean told him. "That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her," John assured him. "I got a whole arsenal loaded; holy water, Mandaic, amulets—"

"Dad."

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"What's that?" John blinked at him.

"If this thing goes South, just...get the hell out," Dean shoved his hands into his jacket, voice shaking slightly. "Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."

Julia grabbed Sam's hand and they both squeezed each other tightly. If things went wrong, and Meg found out that the gun wasn't the Colt, this might be the last time they see John. It was nerve-wracking and John wasn't even her dad; she couldn't imagine how Sam and Dean felt.

"Same goes for you," John turned so he could see Sam, Dean, and Julia all at once and pulled the Colt from his jacket. "All right, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir," Julia and Sam spoke in unison while Dean nodded.

"I've been waiting a long time for this fight," John sighed. "Now it's here and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you three now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?"

Sam, Dean, and Julia all nodded at once; John handed the Colt over to Dean, who took it without a word.

"We'll see you soon, Dad," Sam promised his father, trying to stay optimistic.

"Be careful," Julia added, glancing at Dean worriedly. He hadn't spoken much since he got back and she could tell that he was having a hard time with what was going on. He had already lost his mother to this demon and now he may lose his father, too.

John nodded at them. "I'll see you later."

He clapped Sam on the shoulder and gave Dean a serious but fond look before closing the back of his truck and getting in. The truck rumbled as he drove away, mud squelching each time the tires rotated.

Julia sighed sadly and reaching over with her free hand, taking Dean's. She held onto her boys as the truck disappeared down the road, leaving them to finish the fight by themselves.

-

It was past nine o'clock and they were still watching Monica Holden's house, waiting for the demon to show up. Throughout the three hours they had been parked on the other side of the street, they tossed around ideas that could work in getting the young family out of their house. So far, they had come up with nothing.

Halfway through their stakeout, Julia was antsy and—admittedly—a little bored. Ignoring Dean's protests, she had climbed into the front seat and settled herself in the middle of Sam and Dean. It wasn't anymore exciting in the front but this way, she was able to carry on conversation better than when she had to lean forward to get a hint of what the brothers spoke about.

"Maybe we could tell them that there's a gas leak," Sam suggested after a silent five minutes. "It might get them out of the house for a few hours."

Dean scoffed and looked over Julia's head at him. "Yeah and how many times has that actually worked for us?"

"And we already spoke to Monica outside of her house," Julia added. "It'll be suspicious if we randomly show up at night to tell her to get out of her house."

"Yeah, you're right," he gave in and paused for a few seconds. "We could always tell them the truth."

Julia turned to Sam this time, an eyebrow raised; it amused Sam to see Dean pulling the same face at him.

"Nah," the three of them chorused.

"I know, I know," Sam sighed. "I just—with what's coming for these folks..."

"Sam, we only got one move and you know it, all right?" Dean stated. "We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get to it before it gets them."

Sam nodded in agreement and looked back at the Holden's house.

"I wonder how Dad's doing."

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up," Dean muttered.

"I'd feel a lot better if he was here, backing us up."

The three of them continued watching the house for another half-hour when Sam spoke up again. "This is weird."

Julia gave him a curious look. "What?"

"After all these years, we're finally here," Sam told her and Dean. "It doesn't seem real."

"We just gotta keep our heads and do our job like always," Dean advised his little brother.

"Yeah, but this isn't like always."

Dean cocked his head and agreed. "True."

"...Dean, Julia," Sam said hesitantly. "Uh, I just wanna thank you guys."

Julia's eyes darted back to her best friend. "For what?"

"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you guys. And, uh, I don't know...I just wanted to let you know. Just in case."

Julia's eyes stung and she bowed her head. She was grateful for what Sam said but they weren't needed. She didn't love Sam because it felt like she owed him or that she had to be by his side all these years. She loved Sam because he was her brother and best friend rolled into one. She looked after him for the same reason as Dean—even though she was two-and-a-half years younger than him.

And she didn't like the way he was talking. It was like he didn't expect to make it out of the fight and was already saying his goodbyes.

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean objected, looking at his brother in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"Don't say just in case something happens to you," Dean shook his head firmly, irritated. "I don't wanna hear that fucking speech, man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon—that evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?"

Sam reluctantly nodded; satisfied, Dean turned to Julia.

"Julia?"

"I know, Dean," she whispered, wiping her wet eyes.

An hour later, Dean started calling John. He called three times, each time getting John's voicemail.

Frustrated, Dean harshly closed his phone. "Dad's not answering."

"Meg might be late," Julia offered, trying to stay positive. "Maybe he doesn't have cell reception."

"Yeah, well—"

Out of nowhere, cutting Dean off, the radio started making noise. It was staticky, like they weren't tuned into the nearest radio tower. Julia reached in front of her, turning the knob so the volume was higher.

Around them, the wind started blowing harder, jostling some of the thinner trees. The lights in the Holden's house flickered on and off. The staticky radio, the wind, the flickering lights...they were all omens.

"It's coming," Sam breathed in realization.

The scrambled out of the Impala at once, drawing their guns—and in Sam's case, the Colt—and entering the house after Julia picked the lock. It was quiet on the first level but suddenly, there was chaos.

A man—Julia assumed it was Charlie Holden—popped up out of nowhere and swung a bat at Dean. Dean quickly ducked, missing the blow, but a lamp was trashed in the process.

"Get out of my house!" Charlie roared at them; Dean quickly grabbed the man and pressed him against the wall, hardly effected by his struggles.

"Please, Mr. Holden, please," Julia pleaded. "Please be quiet."

Charlie continued to struggle but Dean locked him up. "Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen," Dean said sharply. "We're trying to help you."

"Charlie, is everything okay down there?" they heard Monica call from upstairs.

"Monica, get the baby!".

"No, don't go into the nursery!" Sam shouted at the same time as Charlie called, "You stay away from her!"

He was struggling against Dean's grip again but the oldest Winchester had no more patience. He backhanded Charlie so hard that he fell unconscious, slumping to the ground. Dean quickly picked him up, heaving him over his shoulder.

"You guys go," he told Julia and Sam. "Get Monica and Rosie."

Julia and Sam took off, up the stairs. It was easy to find Rosie's nursery, considering that Monica was crying and screaming desperately for help. When they entered the room, she was pinned against the top half of the wall by the door and there was a dark figure with yellow eyes standing next to Rosie's crib.

"ROSIE!"

Sam quickly held up the Colt and aimed it at the demon. He pulled the trigger but it disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Monica fell to the floor now that the demon was gone.

"Where the hell did it go?" Sam asked frantically.

Monica didn't care; all she could focus on was Rosie.

"My baby!" she exclaimed, lunging forward; Sam quickly caught her, helping her stand up. "My baby!"

"Get her out of here," Julia told Sam, hurrying over to Rosie's crib. "I got her."

"Rosie!"

Sam tried to pull Monica out of the room but she was fighting him. "My baby!"

"Julia's got her."

Julia quickly picked up Rosie, including her warm blanket, and flinched away as the crib shot up in flames. Making sure that she held Rosie properly, she raced out of the nursery and down the stairs, following Sam and Monica out of the house.

"You get away from my family!" Charlie shouted at Julia and Sam as he was held back by Dean.

"No, Charlie, don't. They saved us," Monica cried, turning to take Rosie out of Julia's arms; she wordlessly passed the baby, giving Monica a sad smile. "They saved us."

Dean let go of Charlie and he immediately went to Monica and Rosie, wrapping his arms around them.

"Thank you," Monica looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean gratefully.

Julia nodded and smiled softly. She was so glad that the Holdens were safe from whatever the demon had wanted to do to them. It was nice to see the love that the three of them shared. She envied that.

"It's still in there!" Sam shouted, his gaze locked on the nursery window where the same figure they had seen earlier was standing.

Dean immediately grabbed Sam before he could run back into the house; Julia joined him in holding the youngest Winchester, who was fighting hysterically.

"Sam, Sam, no," Dean grunted.

"Let me go! It's still in there!"

"No!" Dean raised his voice. "It's burning to the ground. It's suicide."

"I don't care!"

"Well, we do," Julia helped Dean continue to pull Sam away from the house.

The three of them looked back at the nursery window; the demon was gone.

-

Dean paced back and forth in their motel room, his phone up to his ear as he tried calling John again. He had already tried four times and his dad had yet to answer. "Come on, Dad. Answer your phone, dammit," there was still no answer; Dean shut his phone and tossed it on his bed before turning to Sam and Julia, who were sitting side-by-side. "Something's wrong."

Julia nodded in agreement while Sam stared blankly at the wall behind the television.

"You hear me?" Dean asked his brother, frustrated. "Something's happened."

Sam didn't react the way that Dean wanted him to. "If you guys had just let me go in there, I could have ended all of this."

Julia sighed in frustration, tired of his pity party. She and Dean saved his life; he was willing to kill himself because of his rage but he didn't even care. "Sam, you would have died," she said firmly. "All you would have ended was your life."

"You don't know that," Sam protested feebly.

Dean walked over to their bed, standing in front of Sam with his arms crossed over his chest. "So, what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?"

Sam abruptly stood up, towering over Dean. Julie got to her feet, too, ready to intervene if things got more heated between the bothers.

"Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"Well, that's not going to happen," Dean raised his voice. "Not as long as me and Julia are around."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Dean?" Sam matched his volume. "We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay?" Dean tried to placate him. "But it's not worth dying over."

Sam reared back like he had been struck. "What?"

"I mean it," Dean insisted while Julia nervously shifted from foot to foot. "If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess," Sam reminded him lowly. "That thing killed Mom."

"You said it yourself once," Dean stated. "That no matter what we do, they're gone and they're never coming back."

Sam clenched his jaw and grabbed Dean's shoulders, roughly pushing him against the wall. "Don't you say that, not you!" his eyes glistened with tears. "Not after all this. Don't you say that."

"Sam!" Julia rushed toward the brothers, tightly grabbing Sam's arm to pull him away from Dean. "Get off of him!"

Surprisingly—because Sam was much stronger than her—she managed to pull Sam away from Dean. It must have been because he was more sad than angry and he truly didn't want to hurt his brother.

Once Sam released him, Dean said softly, "Sam, look," he gave Sam a pleading look. "The four of us, that's all we have. It's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man. Without you and Jules or Dad..."

He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Sam exhaled shakily and walked back to the bed he shared with Julia while Julia gave Dean a small smile and reached for his hand.

"Dad," Sam said quietly, tears still in his eyes. "He should have called by now."

"You should try him again," Julia suggested.

Dean nodded and grabbed his cellphone, calling his dad once again. Dean looked surprised when John took his call, but it wasn't the eldest Winchester who was answering.

"You three really screwed up this time," Julia, Sam, and Dean heard Meg's angry voice.

While Julia and Sam stiffened, Dean angrily clenched his jaw. "Where is he?"

When Meg spoke again, they could practically hear her devious smirk. "You're never going to see your father again."

Julia popped a fry into her mouth and wiped her greasy fingers before looking back at her laptop, reading an email that her Aunt Maggie had sent to her, Abby, and Beth. It was her monthly update with what was going on with PSC; earnings, new contracts, and employee turnaround. Julia didn't know much about what went into keeping a business but she knew enough to know what Maggie was talking about in her emails without having to look it up  in a dictionary.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean reach for one of her fries; she swatted his hand away and ignored the pout he gave her in return. Fries were her favorite and she would only share them on certain occasions. A random weekday didn't count.

Dean sighed and folded the newspaper he was reading. "Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," he told them before addressing Sam, "What have you got?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota..." Sam said from behind his laptop. "Here—a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

Julia raised her eyebrows while Dean cocked his head. "That sounds more like 'that's incredible' than 'the Twilight Zone'."

Sam sighed and continued his search. "Yeah."

"Hey, you know, we could just keep heading east. New York, upstate," Dean suggested. "Could stop by and see Sarah again, huh. She's a cool chick, man, smokin'," he whistled playfully. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

Julia grinned when Sam perked up, a little flustered. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday," he placated his brother. "In the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, Dean, you know that."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "What else you got?"

"Uh, a man in Colorado," Sam studied his screen. "A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home. It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

Julia perked up when she recognized the name. Her dad had known a man named Danny Elkins way back when she was a kid. They had a falling out of some sort but Luke still held him in high regard and made sure he was supplied with anything he needed from PSC.

"My dad knew a Danny Elkins," she told the brothers as Dean pulled out John's journal.

"I think my dad knew him, too," Dean flipped toward the part of the journal where John kept his hunter contacts. "Here—D. Elkins."

He pointed out the contact, which included a phone number, to Sam and Julia.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You guys think it's the same Elkins?"

"If both of our dads knew a Danny Elkins, it makes sense," Julia shrugged, closing her laptop. "Plus, that's a Colorado area code."

Sam looked from Julia to Dean, who nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Let's check it out."

-

Daniel Elkins lived in a secluded cabin up in the mountains and, according to the bartender at the place he frequented every week, he was a bit of a shut-in. Despite the fact that it was July, it was chilly up in the mountains and starting to snow a little.

They had to pick the lock to get into the cabin and since Julia didn't have much experience with that, Sam and Dean made sure that she was the one to do it this time. It took her a few tries but she eventually unlocked the door.

"Good job, shortcake," Dean patted her ass when Sam stepped into the cabin and then followed in behind him. He turned on his flashlight and started looking around. "Well, looks like the maid didn't come today."

Julia stepped into the cabin, lighting her own flashlight. She wandered off into a different room as Sam stayed by the door, observing some of the salt on the ground, and entered the study. It was an absolute disaster; with most of the furniture splintered into pieces, papers and books all over the place, and various collectibles knocked over everywhere.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right beside the door," Sam called from the front room.

"You mean protection-against-demon salt or whoops-I-spilled-the-popcorn salt?" Dean called back from the room he was looking through.

"It's clearly a ring," Julia heard Sam say as she picked up an empty wooden case that used to hold a gun and its bullets. "Do you think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"Definitely!" Julia spoke up loud enough so the boys could hear her.

"He's got a journal here, Jules!" Dean replied back. "Dates back to the sixties."

"Ooh," Julia whispered under her breath; that would be interesting to read.

Finished with searching their rooms, Sam and Dean entered the room where Julia was looking around. Sam's eyes immediately went to the broken skylight. "Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one."

Dean nodded, looking at the wooden case that Julia had discarded on the messy desk. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too."

Julia made a noise of agreement as she continued to slowly step over some of the debris. She paused when her light flashed over some blood and when she took a closer look, she saw that there were some scratches in the wooden floors.

"You got something, J?" Sam noticed her crouching down next to the scratches.

"I think so," Julia nodded. "Hey, can you get me a pencil and some paper?"

Dean quickly grabbed some supplies from the messy desk and handed them over to her. Julia slapped the paper over the scratches, making sure it was flush with the floor, and then scribbled over it with a pencil, marking out whatever Elkins scratched into the wood.

She picked it up when she was finished, reading the letters and numbers that she deciphered. "It's a message."

Dean took the bloody paper from her. "Well, that looks familiar," he showed it to Sam. "Three letters, six digits."

"The location and combination of a post office box," Sam realized. "It's a mail drop."

Dean nodded. "Just the way Dad does it."

-

After dropping by the local post office and getting into Elkins' mail drop box, Julia, Sam, and Dean went and rented out a motel room. The letter they had discovered in the drop box was written out to a J.W, which just so happened to be John Winchester's initials. Julia didn't think it was a coincidence but Sam and Dean were a little skeptical.

"J.W," Sam sighed, looking over at the envelope Dean held in his hands. "You think it's for Dad?"

"I don't know," Dean studied the initials, looking as if the writing would jump out at him. "Should we open it?"

Before Julia or Sam could answer him, there was a knock on the motel door. The three of them stiffened and Dean dropped the envelope on the table before grabbing his gun to walk over to the door. He aimed it at the door as he reached for the knob and twisted, opening it just a crack so he could see who was on the other side.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was and he opened the door all the way. "Dad? Luke?"

John Winchester and Luke Alexander made their way into the motel room, shocking Julia and Sam. They both looked a little tired but other than that, they seemed healthy.

Julia silently stared at her father. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and even though she loved him, she had been suppressing some anger toward him for a long time now, especially after what happened to Levi and the fact that he just took off again.

Growing up, Julia and Luke had a good relationship despite the fact that he was gone most of the year, hunting supernatural creatures. Luke had always been closest to Abby, his little protégé, but he loved each of his children in his own ways. He was a strict father but still loving and he loved Naomi to death. When she died, he became distant but he still kept in contact. All that had changed the beginning of Julia's senior year at Stanford.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked John, standing up from the table. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," John assured his youngest son. "We read the news about Daniel. We got here as fast as we could. We saw you three at his place."

Julia narrowed her eyes at her dad, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact with her. She couldn't believe that he would come all the way to some random cabin in Colorado but didn't have the decency to attend his own son's memorial or make sure that his daughters were okay.

"Why didn't you guys come in?"

"You know why," John said pointedly. "Because we had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks, by the way."

Surprisingly, his comment wasn't at all sarcastic.

Dean grinned proudly. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best."

Julia couldn't contain her anger anymore. Not when everyone was acting so casual about John and Luke's reappearance. "So, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" she caught everyone's attention with the sharpness in her voice; it wasn't like her at all to speak that way to anyone. "but you couldn't extend the same courtesy for Levi? For your son?"

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jujube—"

"No, don't do that!" Julia stood up abruptly, causing Dean and Sam to exchange a knowing look; Dean slowly started moving toward her, hoping she wouldn't direct her ire at him. "Levi died, Dad! He died and you were no where in sight. Oh wait," she scoffed bitterly. "I forgot. You were in Chicago but you decided it was best not to see how the rest of your family was doing!"

Only inches away from her, Dean placed a warm hand on her back, trying to calm her down. "Jules..."

Luke was in the wrong, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let his daughter yell at him like that. Especially in front of other people. "Don't you talk to me like that, Julia Ruth," he pointed at her, his eyes hardening. "I'm still your father and you will show me some respect."

Julia scoffed, tears coming to her eyes. She angrily brushed them away, cursing her overreactive tear ducts. "You don't deserve it," she spat, pushing away Dean's hand as he tried to grab her waist. "You abandoned your family!"

Luke took a threatening step forward and Julia recognized the look in his eyes. She had seen it many times before when she or Abby stepped out of line and got into trouble. It was look he gave when he was two seconds away from whooping their asses.

Luckily, Dean came to her rescue. "Okay, that's enough," he said sternly, firmly grabbing her waist, pulling her to her and Sam's bed, and sitting her down. He gave Luke a glare, too, expressing all of his anger into it for Julia's sake. "You too, Luke. Both of you calm down."

Luke glared back at him but calmed down when John patted his shoulder.

"All right," John sighed and gave Julia a sympathetic look that surprised her. "We need to focus. Dean, can I look at that letter?"

Not letting go of Julia's shoulders, Dean nodded at the letter where he set it on the table. John picked it up and opened the envelope as Sam came to sit by Julia on their bed, grabbing her hand to calm her down.

"If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John read the letter, trailing off when he came across something shocking. "That son of a bitch."

Luke gave him a questioning look. "What is it?"

John handed him the letter. "He had it the whole time."

"What?"

Luke quickly read the letter and then looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?"

"There was an old case," Julia told him, wiping her tears and swallowing her anger in order to talk to him. "but it was empty."

John sighed angrily. "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean wondered.

John nodded. "We gotta pick up their trail."

"Wait," Sam looked at him in shock. "You want us to help you?"

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun."

"The gun?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why," John said sharply.

Sam sighed. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," Luke spoke up. "Vampires."

"Vampires," Dean's grip on Julia's shoulders tightened. "I thought there was no such thing."

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam pointed out.

"We thought they were extinct," John explained. "We thought that Elkins and others had wiped them out. We were wrong."

"Most vampire lore is wrong," Luke took a seat at the table where Julia, Sam, and Dean were previously sitting. "A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. The bloodlust, though, that's true. They need fresh human blood to survi-ve. They were once people so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

Julia pursed her lips and shared a look with Sam, both of them concerned with the unknowns of what was happening. Vampires now existed, their dads were searching for some random gun that the vampires stole from Elkins, and they didn't even know why the gun was so special that Elkins left a letter for John in the event of his death.

She was unsettled already by her dad's presence but now, with all this new information, it was worse. She wrinkled her nose and bowed her head, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her again. Dean had pretty much calmed her down for the moment but her anger was still simmering inside her. There were three things she did while she was angry; cried, gave whoever she was angry at the silent treatment, or act petty.

This time, she was going with silent treatment.

-

A harsh pat on the end of her bed by her feet woke Julia up from her deep sleep. She could hear Luke and John talking and the hum of a police radio but her mind was trying to catch up to the fact that she was now awake. Sam groaned from next to her and hit her in the shoulder when he stretched out his arms, making her groggily groan in pain.

"Sam, Dean, Julia, wake up," John barked at them; Julia sat up to see that he and Luke were shrugging on their jackets. "Let's go."

Still half-asleep, Dean sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Mmhm."

"What happened?" Sam sighed.

"We picked up a police call," Luke stated, making sure his weapon was loaded. "A couple called 9-1-1, found a body in the street. When the cops got there, everyone was missing."

"It's the vampires," John added.

Sam slowly sat up, groaning. "How do you know?"

"Just follow us, okay?" John said impatiently as Luke opened the door, heading out after the older man.

Julia moaned as she stretched, getting the sleepiness out of her joints, and hopped up to her feet. She had fallen asleep in the leggings and t-shirt she wore the day before, so she simply pulled on her boots and her navy-blue canvas jacket, making sure all her weapons were ready to go.

"Huh, vampires," Dean scoffed groggily, getting up from his bed. "It gets funnier every time I hear it."

A half-hour later, the sun was rising as John and Luke questioned the police gathered around the abandoned car. The two older men had been adamant about having Julia, Sam, and Dean stay back while they did their work, leaving Julia and Sam feeling frustrated.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with them," Sam grumbled from his place against the hood of the Impala.

While Julia nodded in agreement, Dean gave him a calculative look. "Oh, don't tell me it's already starting."

As John and Luke started making their way back to them, Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Dean. "What's starting?

Dean just shook his head and turned to the older hunters. "What'd you get?"

"It was them, all right," John confirmed for them. "Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dean gave his brother a warning look. "Sam..."

"I just want to know that we're going in the right direction," Sam defended himself.

John clenched his jaw. "We are."

"How do you know?" Sam challenged him.

John sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling something out and handing it to Dean. "I found this."

Julia silently looked over as Dean flipped over the sharp tooth between his fingers. "It's a vampire fang."

"Not fangs, teeth," Luke corrected him. "The second set descends when they attack."

John gave Sam a hard look. "Any more questions?"

Sam didn't speak but glared down at the gravel at their feet.

"All right," John spoke when he was sure Sam wasn't going to backtalk. "let's get out of here. We're losing daylight."

It was early in the morning and the sun had just set so Julia knew that John was just being an asshole.

He proved her theory correct when he passed by the Impala and commented, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Julia scoffed quietly as John and Luke got into their truck, glaring at the former. Dean took better care of Baby then he did himself. There was no way rust was getting anywhere near the treasured Impala. Dean would rather die.

Sam gave his brother an I-told-you-so look while Dean just smiled awkwardly and shrugged in embarrassment. The three of them got into the Impala, with Sam driving, and started following John's truck to make their way past the detour.

"You take great care of Baby, Dean," Julia assured him, reaching forward to pat his shoulder twice. "Don't listen to your dad."

"Eh, maybe he's right," Dean shrugged as he grabbed Daniel Elkins' journal from the dashboard.

"No, he's not," she insisted.

Sam nodded in agreement. "She's right, Dean."

"All right, all right," Dean sighed and tossed the Elkins journal to Julia. "Find some info on the vamps, would you, shortcake?"

Julia, who caught the journal easily, nodded and started flipping through the pages until she saw the start of the section about vampires.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten," she read out loud so Sam and Dean could hear her. "Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks."

"Ugh," Dean grimaced. "I wonder if that's what happened to the 9-1-1 couple."

"That's probably what Dad is thinking," Sam muttered sourly. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So," Dean gave his brother a thoughtful look. "it is starting."

Sam glanced at him confused. "What?"

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year," Dean pointed out. "Now we're with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?"

"No," Sam huffed. "Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again..."

"Well, good," Dean thought that he was finished. Julia knew better, though; Sam was itching to make the fact that he was annoyed with John bossing them around known.

"It's just the way he treats us," he blurted out. "Like we're children."

Dean groaned. "Oh, here we go."

"He barks orders at us, Dean," Sam raised his voice to try to make a point. "He expects us to follow them without question. He keeps us on some fucking need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean argued, matching Sam's volume.

"What reason?"

"Our job!" Dean exclaimed. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things. Luke does it, too."

"Yeah and look at what a great father my dad is," Julia spoke up. "Look, I agree with Sam. You guys are grown men and he should treat you like it."

While Dean gave her an annoyed look, Sam nodded, glad that she was backing him up. "It doesn't work anymore," he agreed. "Not after everything that the three of us have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him and Luke run the whole show?"

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at Sam. "If that's what it takes."

There was something in the way that Dean said those words that had Julia doubting that he didn't mind John taking charge. Over the last year, Dean had been the one in charge; he was the oldest, what he said goes. More than likely, he didn't like giving up his control, especially when his dad treated him like a kid and not the twenty-seven-year-old man he was.

Nevertheless, Dean gave nothing else away. They continued driving through Colorado throughout the whole day, with little to no breaks. It was well past dark when John called Dean to inform him of their next move.

"Yeah, Dad, I got it," Dean confirmed before hanging up the phone and turning to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?"

"Cause Dad and Luke think that we've got the vampires' trail."

"How?"

Julia winced at Sam's furious tone; John Winchester sure did know how to bring the best out in his sons.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

Sam stomped on the gas pedal, revving the engine. They shot forward, speeding from their current place behind John's truck until they were passing it. Once Sam was sure they were a safe enough distance ahead of their fathers, he abruptly pulled out into the middle of the road, cutting John and Luke off.

"Shit," Julia breathed in shock, pressing her hand against her racing heart. As Sam pushed open his door, she protested, "Sam, no!"

"Fuck, here we go," Dean muttered, getting out of the Impala to run interference between his dad and Sam. "Sam, stop!"

Just as Julia was getting out of the car, John barreled out of his truck and up to Sam, a furious look on his face. "What the fuck was that?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?" John stopped in front of Sam when there was only about three inches between them.

Luke got out of the passenger seat of the truck and leaned against it, watching what was going on with raised eyebrows. He shot Julia a look but she steadily ignored him, watching Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

"About everything," Sam said firmly. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q-and-A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried to interject.

"Your brother's right. We don't have time for this."

"Last time we say you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help," Sam raised his voice. "Obviously something big is going down and we wanna know what!"

John gave him a stone-cold glare. "Get back in the car."

"No."

"I said get back in the fucking car."

"Yeah, and I said no!" Sam yelled.

Before the argument could escalate any further, Julia and Dean stepped in. Julia grabbed Sam's arm and forcefully tugged him a few feet away from his dad, standing her ground when he tried to fight her.

"Okay, you made your point, tough guy," Dean told his little brother as he pushed on his dad's chest to get him to back away. "Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later."

"Come on, Sam," Julia said encouragingly. "Let it go for now."

Sam shook his head, still glaring at his father. "This is why I left in the first place."

John lunged forward, pressing against Dean's hold on him; Luke jumped into the fray, holding his friend back. "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, you left!" John reminded him scathingly. "Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away. You walked away!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean called as Sam broke loose from Julia's grasp, stalking straight up to John. Dean immediately pushed him back while Luke continued to try to pull John away.

"You were the one who said don't come back, Dad," Sam shouted, tears in his eyes. "You closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

Julia shook her head, feeling three angry energies clashing back and forth. Sam was getting more and more riled up and John was the source of the Winchester temper so he was no better. Dean was angry because he just got his family back together and it was splitting apart already. It was too much anger and, added with her own, Julia was having a hard time keeping her composure while Sam needed her. She had to stay calm, though. She—and her dad, really—were the only ones who could right now.

She took a deep breath, calming herself down, and stomped forward, gripping both of Sam's arms to pull him away from John. "Stop it!" she yelled firmly. "Stop it right now! That's enough!"

Dean saw an opportunity when Julia got Sam to back up a couple of inches; he forced himself in between his brother and his father, making sure that they were far enough apart once again.

"That means you too," Dean added to John with a glare.

"Come on, John," Luke grunted, pulling John back toward the truck.

Sam ripped his arms away from Julia and stomped to the Impala, slamming the driver's door shut behind him. Julia and Dean shared with look of exasperation with each other; it'd only been a day and the duo of Sam and John Winchester would be the death of them.

"Fucking terrific," Dean grumbled under his breath as he and Julia joined Sam in the car.

-

Julia, Sam, Dean, Luke, and John crouched in the woods only a couple hundred feet from the old barn where the vampire nest was living. They had been there for a half-hour already but there was no activity until an old car drove up and parked next to the other ones. A vampire got out and another vampire opened the barn door for him, neither one of them affected by the sun's rays.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, shaking his head as the second vampire closed up the barn once again. "So, they're really not afraid of the sun?"

Luke shook his head. "Direct sunlight hurts them like a nasty sunburn," he told them. "The only way to kill them is by beheading."

"And just because they sleep in the day doesn't mean they won't wake up," John added.

Julia hummed. "So, I'm guessing just walking in isn't our best option."

"Actually," John grinned at her, showing off his Winchester dimples. "that's the plan."

The five of them left their hiding place and made their way back to where the truck and Impala were parked. Even though the truck was only a couple years older than Baby, its weapon outfit was much nicer. It buzzed as it mechanically opened, holding numerous weapons in a neatly organized way.

"Come here, baby girl," Luke waved Julia over to their weapons; Julia hesitantly walked over, knowing that now really wasn't the time to be angry with her dad. "This is for you."

Luke pulled a brand-new machete out of the weapons storage, complete with its own holster. It was slightly shorter than the ones that he and John were using but it was pretty and it'd get the job done—well, she had never beheaded anything but she assumed her dad wouldn't give the machete to her unless it would do the work.

She knew this was some sort of truce between them. For the moment, Luke wanted her to set aside her anger so they could trust each other and have one another's back. He had done this many times growing up; when he missed her ninth birthday, Luke had come home from his hunt with a set of brand-new daggers. She easily forgave him and still used them to this day. Usually her problems with her dad didn't disappear but she wasn't perfect and she loved presents. What little girl didn't?

For now, she'd accept the truce. She took the machete from him with a small smile. "Thanks, Dad."

So much for the silent treatment.

Luke grinned and tugged on the end of her French braid like he used to do when she was a girl. "There's my girl."

Julia gave him a closed-mouth smile and went back to Sam and Dean, holding it out for them to look at it. Dean was more impressed than Sam was, holding it up and mimicking an attack, slicing through the air with the blade. She couldn't help but laugh when he grinned happily and gave it back to her.

"So," John spoke up once Julia put the holster around her waist and they were all loaded up with whatever weapons they needed. "You three really wanna know about this colt?"

Sam nodded, his temper calmed down from their fight the night before. "Yes, sir."

"It's just a story, a legend really," John started to tell them. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those mean died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun."

"He made it for a hunter," Luke took over the story. "He made thirteen bullets and this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Danny got his hands on it."

"They say...they say that this gun can kill anything," John finished.

"Kill anything," Dean repeated slowly. "Like, supernatural anything?"

Sam stiffened in realization. "Like the demon."

"Yeah, like the demon," John confirmed with a nod. "Ever since Luke and I picked up its trail, we've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. If we find the gun, we may have it."

The five of them split up—John and Luke together while Julia, Sam, and Dean were grouped up—to enter the barn. While John and Luke went to look for the colt, the three of them went to rescue hostages. While Julia and Dean were unlocking the cage full of three human women, Sam went to freeing a woman who was tied to a post, blood all over her. She ended up screaming and alerting all the vampires that they were there, making them abort their mission.

After they got some dead man's blood, which will incapacitate a vampire for a while, and night fell, Julia and Dean were to be the trap for the vampires coming after them. They would make it look like the Impala had quit running, leaving them at the side of the road, looking for help.

Julia crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she watched Dean look over Baby's engine. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to think of what they were about to do; usually she was okay with anxiety before a hunt but she nor Dean had any experience with vampires. She didn't even know if she was strong enough to behead a vampire, for crying out loud.

Dean peeked over at her, giving her a cute smile. "Nervous, shortcake?"

"Yes," Julia didn't bother lying; he knew her tell anyway. "What about you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, his green eyes surprisingly soft. "And you don't have to worry, okay? As long as I'm around, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you."

Julia's heart fluttered in her chest and she couldn't help but grin at him. "Didn't you say that to Sam once?" she teased him. "Are you reusing one-liners, Dean? I never thought I'd see the day."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he shook his head in amusement. "I distracted you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did," she conceded, her eyes flickering to the right when she heard some branches snapping. "Oh, crap."

The smile left Dean's face as he concentrated on the engine again, acting like he had no idea what he was doing. Julia peered over his work, making it seem like she was paying attention to what he was doing.

"Car trouble?" they heard from behind them.

Julia and Dean turned around at the same time, coming face-to-face with an older woman dressed in tacky double denim. She was very obviously a vampire, especially since there was no car around that she would have used to get to them, were she a human.

"Let me give you a lift," the vampire insisted with a seductive smile "I'll take you two back to my place."

"Sorry, we don't do threesomes," Dean said sharply. "And we draw the line at necrophilia, anyway."

"Ooh," the vampire cooed before reaching out and backhanding Dean across the face.

Julia went to help him but another vampire walked over to them—this one was a huge guy—and grabbed her. She was forced to watch as the woman picked Dean up by the chin, raising him up until his feet were off the ground.

"Ugh," Dean grunted. "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date, but..."

While Julia struggled in the man's arms, the woman smirked up at Dean. "You know, we could have some fun," she tempted him. "I always like to make new friends."

The woman lowered her arm until Dean was level with her. She smashed her lips against Dean's, giving him no room to struggle. Julia pushed against the vampire holding her, anger welling in her chest, and shouted for the woman to stop.

"Get off of him!" she yelled at her, still trying to make her way out of the man's arms; he roughly took one of her arms and held it behind her back while placing his other arm in front of her mouth. "Ouch, hey! Let go of me, dammit!"

The woman pulled away from a disgusted Dean and smirked at Julia. "You got yourself a feisty one, don't you," she sent a dig toward Dean as she slowly walked toward Julia. "Mmm...Luther will like you, sweetheart."

Fed up with the talking, Julia kicked back her leg into the man's nuts, making him grunt and let her go. As soon as she was out of his arms, an arrow was shot through his heart and the woman's.

"Damn it," the woman grunted while Julia helped Dean up from where the vampire discarded him; Sam, John, and Luke came out of the woods where they were hiding, bows in their hands. "It barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart," John smirked at her. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

Like clockwork, the woman stumbled and faltered, fainting to the ground. John handed Dean his bow and picked her up. "I'll load her up," John called out toward Luke. "You take care of that one."

Luke grinned and pulled out his machete, angrily leering down at the vampire who was holding Julia. "It'd be my pleasure."

As John went to toss the vampire in Impala's trunk, Luke swung his machete, slicing through the vampire's head with ease.

-

"I told you I'm okay," Julia assured her father as they sat around the campfire he had built.

"That vamp had you pretty tight, Jujube," Luke said worriedly.

"I've had worse," she told him; she had gotten injuries with almost every hunt that she had been on with Sam and Dean—some of them worse than others.

Luke nodded understandingly. "And how is the training going? Are Sam and Dean treating you all right?"

Julia looked over at the truck, where Sam and Dean were talking to their father about his weapon storage. "Yeah, they are," she nodded, turning back to Luke. "and training's going fine. I did an exorcism on an airplane, you know."

Luke grinned. "I know you did," he hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "Listen, Julia, I'm sorry for not being there for you and your sisters. I've been with John on this from the very beginning and I got caught up in it. And, when Levi was killed," he shook his head and Julia was surprised to see him tearing up. "Well, I didn't want to face you girls."

"Why, though, Dad?" Julia didn't understand; a girl always needed her daddy.

"Because I was ashamed," Luke confessed. "We think that girl who was controlling the Daeva, the one who killed Levi, was working with the demon that killed Mary and Jessica. And, if she was, that meant that I brought her right to your brother. I'm the reason he's dead."

Julia grabbed Luke's left hand where his wedding ring was still wrapped around his fourth finger. "Dad, it's not your fault," she whispered, her eyes stinging with her own tears. "You couldn't have known that what happened to Levi would actually happen."

"I should have, though," Luke shook his head. "I've been hunting evil my whole life. I should have known that one of you—if not all of you—would pay the price."

"You can't think like that, Dad," Julia sniffed and wiped away some of her tears with her free hand. "You and Mom protected us the best you could."

Before they could talk anymore, the Winchester men walked over to the fire. John was holding a bundle of herbs, which he threw in the fire, immediately stinking up the vicinity.

"Gross," Julia wrinkled her nose at the smell. "What the hell is that?"

"Saffron, skunk's cabbage, a trillium," John informed her. "It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."

Dean coughed and shook his head. "The stuff stinks."

"That's the idea," Luke let go of Julia's hand and stood up. "Dust your clothes with the ashes and you stand a chance of not being detected."

"And you're sure they'll come after her?" Sam questioned his father, nodding over to the vampire they had tied to a tree.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun but the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half-hour ought to do it," Sam checked the machete in his holster.

"And then we want you three out of the area as fast as you can," Luke ordered.

Julia stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You guys can't take care of them all," Dean protested.

"We'll have her and the colt," John placated him, pointing to the vampire.

"But after, we're gonna meet up, right?" Sam stared hard at his dad. "Use the gun together, right?"

John paused for a long moment, giving them the answer they needed.

Sam scoffed. "You're leaving again, aren't you?" he confronted John. "You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?"

"Like children."

"You are my children," John said firmly. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but that's bullshit," Dean spoke up, earning shocked looks from Sam and Julia.

Never before had Julia heard Dean speak up to his dad like that; and, by the way Sam was looking at his brother, he hadn't heard it either. Julia was proud of him; he was finally sticking up for himself.

John blinked in disbelief at his oldest son. "Excuse me?"

"You know that Sammy, Jules, and I have been hunting," Dean stood his ground. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean."

"Then what is it?" Dean asked him. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon is a bad son of a bitch," John told them slowly, like they were kids wouldn't couldn't understand evil and the danger it brings. "I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean retorted, seeing through his dad's bullshit.

"Look," John sighed. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. You mother's death, it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die?" Dean countered, his voice wavering. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking and I...Maybe Sam's right about this one. We should do this together."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are," Dean continued. "You know it."

John shook his head. "We're running out of time," he changed the subject. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

Luke tapped Julia's shoulder and when she turned to him, he nodded in Sam and Dean's direction. She knew that he was silently telling her to go with them but she agreed with the brothers; they should stick together. Sam and Dean had as much of a right to see this demon dead as John did.

"Go," Luke urged her. "Be careful."

-

While John and Luke left with the female vampire to lure out half of the nest, Julia, Dean, and Sam wiped out the rest of them who were left at the barn. It turned out that after a few tries, Julia did have enough strength to behead a vampire, which gave her much relief that she could defend herself.

After they freed the hostages, they made their way to where the fight between John and Luke and the vampires was going down. When they arrived, the vampires had John knocked out and Luke fighting a lost cause. But the tide turned in their favor when Dean shot an arrow drenched in dead man's blood into one of the vamps.

The three of them rushed at the vampires, their machetes drawn. Sam took out two vampires, one after another, while Dean killed the vampire that had Luke on the ropes. Julia was right behind him, ready to kill one of the last ones when another vampire came up behind her and forcefully pushed her to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. The vampire who pushed her down stood over her, feet on either side of her body, and bent down, backhanding her face so hard she could taste blood. He wasn't finished with her, though; he grabbed her around the neck and lifted her with one hand, swinging her around so his arm could snap her neck and kill her within a second.

Julia's wide and fearful eyes were on a furious Dean, who was posed to attack the vampire, machete raised.

"Don't," the vampire warned him lowly. "I'll break her neck."

Julia inhaled deeply, silently panicking. This wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful.

"Put the blade down."

Dean hesitated, fire in his eyes, and when Julia grunted as the vampire squeezed her neck threateningly, he did as he was told. He raised his free hand and lowered the machete to the ground with the other. Sam dropped his blade as well, raising his hands in the air.

"You people," the vampire hissed as Julia wheezed in his hold. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so."

The vampire whipped around at John's voice, bringing Julia with him. John had the colt in his hand and waited for less than a second before aiming at the vampire and pulling the trigger. The bullet went right between the vampire's eyes, making him still.

Dean hurriedly pulled Julia into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. Sam hovered near them, all three of them watching with wide eyes as the vampire slowly died.

The female that they had caught had tried to go after John but the last one wasn't having it. She dragged her into one of the vampire's cars and drove off, leaving Julia, Dean, Sam, Luke, and John to deal with the rest of them.

The vampire chapter of the story was done for now. They were safe and they had the colt. Now, all they had to do was track that demon down and kill it, just like it killed Mary and Jessica.

Julia tapped her manicured nails against the surface of the table to the beat of the song playing through the bar that she and the Winchester brothers were hanging out in. She hardly paid attention to John's journal in front of her, even though she was supposed to be looking up something for Sam. Her eyes were at the bar, where Dean stood flirting with a pretty brunette woman.

She wasn't bothered by it, not really. Yes, she liked Dean but she also thought that he considered her as his little sister. Really, the only reason she was irritated was because he had been sent to the bar to get them drinks and had yet to come back with them even though she saw the bartender give him the drinks more than five minutes ago.

If she had to watch Dean flirt with a bunch of women, she didn't want to be completely sober.

"Did you find the names?" Sam's question brought her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah," she answered quickly, pushing the journal back over to him. "There you go."

Sam studied the names—and each paragraph John wrote about the people and their death—and then nodded, tapping the page. He looked up in Dean's direction and waved for his attention. Despite the fact that Dean saw him, he continued flirting with the girl, smirking attractively.

Sam impatiently waved at him again; the smile on Dean's face dropped as he said something to the woman, grabbed their drinks from in front of him, and walked back over to the table they stole an hour ago.

Dean slid Julia's fuzzy navel over to her before setting down Sam's beer.

"Oh, look, the ice melted," Julia commented sarcastically, playfully raising her eyebrows at him while taking the straw between her fingers to stir the drink. "Just the way I like it. Thanks, Dean."

Dean winked at her. "You're welcome, Junior."

Julia popped the straw in her mouth and started drinking, enjoying the orange juice and peach flavored alcohol.

"All right, I think we got something," Sam told Dean.

"Oh, yeah, me too," Dean glanced back at the brunette he left at the bar. "I think we need to take a short leave for just a little bit. What do you think? I'm so in the door with this one."

"So, what are we today, Dean?" Sam set down the newspaper he had been studying for the past half-hour. "I mean, are we rock stars or army rangers?"

Dean grinned widely. "Reality TV scouts looking for people with special skills," he told Sam eagerly. Julia snickered and Sam and Dean joined in her laughter. "I mean, hey, it's not that far off, right?"

Sam shrugged.

"I don't understand," Julia piped in, taking another pull of her drink. "I mean, why do you have to lie?"

Dean gave her look that told her he thought that she was crazy. "You're kidding right?"

"No, I meant it in a way that you shouldn't have to lie about who you are," Julia elaborated. "You're hot and you have a somewhat nice personality. You shouldn't have to make up a story."

Dean grinned at her and rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear anything after you called me hot."

Julia fought back her eyeroll—even when he was flirting he was such a little shit—and curled her lips seductively as she coyly played with her straw. Dean's eyes dropped down to her lips to the cleavage her white v-neck showed off, and then down to her hands, following her fingers' movements. Julia's self-esteem shot up a little bit when he bit his lip and his green eyes darkened as she pulled the straw to her lips.

The whole situation was getting intense and she could feel Dean's energy shifting into something lustful and primal. The sexual tension between them could be cut with a knife and she saw Sam look away with a small smile.

She took another drink of her beverage and then smiled at Dean, trying to diffuse the situation. "Then you might have to get hearing aids, old man."

Julia wished that they were alone so she didn't have to break up the little flirting between them. She wanted to see just how attracted Dean was to her and whether he would actually make a move or not.

Dean's light smirk fell slightly and he blinked, standing up to his full height. He took a drink of his beer, looked back at the girl at the bar, and then back at Sam.

"By the way, she's got a friend over there," he told his brother. "I can probably hook you up. What do you think?"

Sam looked taken aback by Dean's offer. "Dean...I...no thanks," he shook his head, almost shyly. "I can get my own dates."

"Yeah, you can but you don't," Dean pointed out.

Sam stiffened slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Dean shook his head and then nodded at the newspaper. "What you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago," Sam told him, recalling what he read from the article. "Their throats were slit and there were no prints, no murder weapons, all—"

Julia suppressed her smile when Sam snapped at his brother, who was looking back at the girls waiting for him at the bar. Dean looked back at Sam, paying attention again as he drank more beer.

"No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside," Sam finished.

Dean took another gulp of beer. "Could just be a garden variety murder, you know? Not our department."

"Well, your dad thought otherwise," Julia spoke up.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"

Julia dragged John's journal back in front of her and then spun it around so Dean could read the information the right way up. "John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York," she pointed to the first victim's paragraph. "The first one was in 1912, the second one was in 1945, and the third one was in 1970."

"The same M.O. as the Telescas; their throats were slit, the doors were locked from the inside," Sam added. "Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we got one," Dean stated.

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"All right, I'm with you. It's worth checking out," Dean agreed and then hesitated, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "We can't pick this up until first thing, though, right?"

Sam gave him a confused look. "Yeah?"

"Good," Dean grabbed his beer and walked away from the table, heading back to the women at the bar. He started chatting with them right away while they leaned in him with flirtatious smiles.

Julia sighed and looked over at Sam. "We can't take him anywhere."

"No, we can't," Sam rolled his eyes. "Wanna head out?"

"Sure."

Julia quickly finished the rest of her drink as Sam picked up their stuff. She made him promise that they could stop by a pizza place—her favorite food to eat while buzzed—on the way back to their motel. Pizza, beer, and whatever movie was on cable sounded like a much better night than watching Dean go home with two women.

-

"So, last night..."

"Sam, come on," Julia sighed as they continued walking through the Telesca's old house. She had the EMF device in her hand as they walked down the upstairs hallway, checking the empty rooms for any evidence of what happened to the happy couple.

"What, I'm just saying," Sam shrugged as he took the lead into the master bedroom. There was a large bloodstain on the white carpet but there was nothing else in the room. Everything the Telesca's owned was now being sold at an estate sale because they had no other family. "You and Dean were getting somewhere and then you shut it down."

"I shut it down because I don't want a casual fling with your brother," Julia told him. "and I know that Dean isn't really the relationship kind of guy so I'm just gonna save myself the trouble."

"Fine," they left the master bedroom and started back downstairs.

Julia could tell that Sam wasn't finished with the topic of her and Dean but she didn't want to get into it again. She wasn't going to go there with Dean; she couldn't just have sex with him. She was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve and if she did have sex with Dean, she was positive that her feelings would grow. That's just how she was.

They left the house, locking up after themselves so it seemed like no one was there, and walked down the block to where Sam parked the Impala. Dean was still sleeping in the passenger seat when they arrived, his head leaning against the window with sunglasses blocking his sensitive eyes.

Julia playfully nudged Sam and bounded forward, leaning through the drivers' side window to reach the steering wheel. Sam grinned and chuckled as she slapped the horn, making Dean shout in surprise, jump in his seat, and take a defensive stance.

Julia broke out into giggles, laughing harder when Dean whipped off his sunglasses and glared at her. She slid back from the window and stepped to the side, opening her door to slide into the backseat.

Sam was still laughing when he sat in the drivers' seat.

"That was so not cool," Dean grumbled, resting his tired head back on the window. Julia snickered, not feeling sorry for him. He had done worse things to her while she was trying to sleep in the backseat—the worst was when he blared his music and started weaving in and out of the two lanes on an empty highway, making her fall into the space between the seats.

"We just swept the Telesca house with EMF. It's clean," Sam informed him, his laughter finally calming down. "And, last night, while you were...well...out—"

Dean smirked happily. "Good times."

Julia rolled her eyes while Sam continued as if he didn't say anything. "J and I checked the history of the house; no hauntings, no violent crimes."

"And there wasn't anything strange about the Telescas, either," Julia added.

"All right, so, if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents," Dean said thoughtfully. "Like a cursed object or something."

"The house is clean," Sam stated.

"Yeah, I know," Dean gave him an annoyed look. "you said that."

"No, I mean it's empty," Sam elaborated. "No furniture, nothing."

"Where's all their stuff, then?"

"An estate sale," Julia informed him, recalling the information she looked up before they even stepped foot in the house. "It's taking place this afternoon at Daniel Blake's Auctions and Estates."

"Perfect," Dean sat up in his seat, yawning. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Sam started the car and pulled away from the curb, driving out of the expensive neighborhood that the Telescas lived in. As he turned onto the main road through town, Julia leaned forward in her seat to speak to the brothers.

"We should probably change first," she suggested.

Dean looked at her like he was crazy. "Why would we do that?"

"Daniel Blake's auction house is the best of the best," Julia told him. "We're gonna stick out like a sore thumb if we go in there in jeans and flannel. And, without an invitation, we'll get kicked out."

Dean wasn't convinced that they needed to change but Sam agreed with Julia. Once they stopped at a gas station to change into their nicest clothes, they made their way to Daniel Blake's auction house.

The lot was full of luxurious sports cars and the building was huge, with beautiful and expensive pieces of artwork, statues, and furniture. There were plenty of people mulling about and checking out the items, all dressed in very nice clothing.

"Silent auctions, estate sales," Dean muttered under his breath as they walked through the aisles of items. He stole some type of finger food from the buffet and stuffed it in his mouth. "Looks like a garage sale for Wasps, if you ask me."

Julia went to throw him a be-quiet look but a man's elegant yet distasteful voice came from behind them.

"Can I help you three?"

Julia, Dean, and Sam turned around and came face-to-face with an older gentleman, several inches shorter than both of the Winchester brothers. He wore a three-piece suit, his hair was slicked back impeccably, and there was a nasty look on his face.

"I'd like some champagne, please," Dean told him with his mouth full.

Julia nudged him with her elbow. "He's not a waiter," she turned back to the man, her sweet smile that gave her whatever she wanted on display. "Nice to meet you, I'm Julia Petersen—"

"Of the chain of sports shops?" the man asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir," Julia nodded confidently, holding out her hand for him to shake. The man took it, shaking it firmly yet politely. "These are my art dealers, Sam and Dean Connors."

The man gave the brothers a doubtful look. "You are art dealers?"

Sam nodded with a polite smile. "That's right."

"I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house," the man introduced himself. "Miss Petersen, no matter how nice it is to meet you, I'm afraid that this is a private showing. I don't remember seeing your name on the guest list."

Before Julia could say a word, Dean scoffed. "We're there, chuckles. You just need to take another look."

Julia had never been embarrassed of Dean and she wasn't now, either. She was annoyed, though. All she had to do was buy their way onto the guest list so they weren't intruding but he had to open his mouth. Mr. Blake would undoubtedly kick them out because of Dean's manners.

A waiter with a tray full of champagne passed by and Dean took a glass. "Oh, finally," he sniffed the glass pretentiously, as if it was a glass of wine. "Cheers."

Sam and Dean walked away from the man, leaving Julia on her lonesome. "Sorry about him," she tried saving grace. "We just arrived in town today and I heard about your showing. There wasn't enough time to buy tickets. Are there any left?"

Mr. Blake didn't seem as put-off by Julia as he was Sam and Dean. She owed it all to her last name and her training when it came to big events like this where her family had to mingle with the other rich people of America. When she was younger, Naomi and Maggie used to go to parties all the time but when Naomi died, Maggie started taking Julia along until she left for Stanford.

"Certainly, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake nodded. "I'll come find you with the tickets. Please, continue to take a look around."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Blake," Julia gave him a sweet smile and then turned, heading off in the direction Sam and Dean went.

She found them in the area where the Telesca estate was being shown. The Telescas had mostly good taste, a little bit too stuffy for her, but the large painting of a family of five was horrific. She couldn't imagine why anyone would put that in their house, especially if they weren't related to the people in the portrait.

Sam and Dean joined her at the painting, each of them looking at it with furrowed brows.

"A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?" a woman spoke up as she walked toward them.

She was a couple of years older than Julia and far taller than her but she was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was pulled up elegantly and her black dress was classy enough for the showing but cute enough that she wasn't boring to look at.

Sam looked at the painting in confusion and then back to the woman. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses," he stated. "But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did."

The woman smiled. "Guilty," she admitted as a waiter came by with a tray of mini quiche that Dean eagerly took from. "and clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam," Sam introduced himself. "This is my friend, Julia, and my brother, Dean."

Sarah smiled at Julia, her eyes sweeping to Dean, who was shoving a mini quiche into his mouth. "Dean," she greeted him. "Can we get you some more mini quiche?"

Dean hummed with his mouth full. "I'm good, thanks."

Julia watched as Sarah's eyes immediately went back to Sam, her expression brightening. "So, can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam nodded. "What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

"The whole thing's pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling their things this soon," Sarah eyed the Telesca items and people around them. "But Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds—even the rich ones."

Sam grinned at her and hesitated for a second before asking, "Is it possible to see the provenances?"

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that," Mr. Blake walked over to them.

Sam gave him a confused look. "Why not?"

"I'm afraid I underestimated our ticket sales, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake turned to Julia, dismissing Sam's question. "Therefore, you and your companions are unable to continue viewing the items. I think it's time for you to leave."

Julia raised her eyebrows at Mr. Blake; his tone was polite but his expression was anything but. He didn't want her business, it seemed, as long as she had Sam and Dean by her side. Well, that was his loss.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Blake," Julia made sure she hid her anger with the man behind politeness. "Next time I come to town, I'll book in advance."

"That would be lovely," Mr. Blake nodded. "Good afternoon."

Julia gave him a tight smile and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him with her as she walked away. He looked like he wanted to punch the smug expression right off Mr. Blake's face but she couldn't allow that to happen. No matter how rude the guy was, the Petersen name couldn't be tarnished by unimportant auction house.

"That guy needs a fucking attitude adjustment," Dean grunted angrily as they left the building. "What a fucking asshole."

"He's not worth it," Julia tried to placate him.

Dean's temper wasn't sated just yet, though. "He's an asshole who acts like he's better than us just because he has money," he muttered as he and Julia went to their side of the car. "What a dick."

"Hey," Julia grabbed his hand before he could rip open the drivers' door and squeezed it, hoping it would help calm him down. "Don't worry about it, Dean."

Dean sighed, Julia's hold on him actually allowing him to calm down. He squeezed her back and then let go of her hand to open his door. He gave her a small, grateful smile as he slid into his seat. He pointedly ignored the way Sam smiled at him and started up the car as Julia got into her seat.

-

Julia pulled her duffle bags from the back of the Impala and followed Sam and Dean over to the rooms she got for them. Rooms eleven and twelve were connected—like Dean wanted them to be every time it was her turn to rent the rooms—and were the last two rooms of the front side of the motel.

"How'd you know about that stuff back at the auction house?" Dean asked Sam as he pulled out the key to room twelve. "Grant Wood and Grandma Moses?"

"I took an art history course," Sam told him. "It was good for meeting girls."

"Plenty of time to make a connection when the professor drones on and on about boring crap," Julia teased Sam with a grin, walking next door to unlock her room. "I dropped out the first week."

Dean shook his head at them. "It's like I don't even know you two."

Julia laughed and unlocked her door, stepping into the room. It was decorated in a black and white with a disco theme. There were silvery metal accessories everywhere and the walls looked like a dance floor that was made in the seventies. There were two queen beds a couple feet apart from each other, a table, and a mini bar.

She hoped that Sam and Dean had a room decorated similarly so she wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Julia set her bags down on one of the beds and walked over to the doors that separated her room from Sam and Dean's room. She unlocked hers and opened it before knocking on the one that locked on the boys' side.

Dean opened the door within seconds, peeking into her room. "Looks like Saturday Night Fever threw up all over your room, too."

"Yeah," Julia laughed as he let her into his room. "It must be a real draw to their customers."

"Mmhm," Dean hummed in agreement before turning to Sam, who was setting his stuff on his bed. "What was that providence thing you were talking about?"

"Provenance," Sam corrected him. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use them to check the history of the pieces and see if any of them have a freaky past."

"Huh," Dean nodded, impressed. "Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..."

"Yeah," Sam smirked at him. "Maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

"Oh, it's not Dean that Sarah's interested in," Julia drawled as she sat down at their table. Dean pointed at her in agreement, his face lighting up into an amused grin.

"No, no, no," Sam shook his head. "Pick-ups are your thing, Dean."

"It wasn't my ass she was checking out," Dean told him. "Right, Jules?"

"Sarah's into you, hotshot," Julia grinned at her best friend. "Call her up, take her on a date..."

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information."

"Don't think of it that way, Sam," Julia sighed.

"Besides," Dean added, pulling out his cellphone to hand it to Sam. "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her."

Sam sighed heavily and took the phone, walking into Julia's room so he could have some privacy to talk to Sarah alone.

-

Dean couldn't help but stare at her. The way her wavy hair brushed against her upper back. The way her hazel eyes lit up when someone was talking to her, giving them all of her attention. The way she wrinkled her nose when she took a drink of Dean's beer. The way her little black dress fit her just right, showing off all her assets. The way she giggled when he told her some lame joke that no one else would laugh at.

Julia Petersen was a masterpiece and he never wanted to look away.

Dean had always found Julia attractive and, of course, after that dream he had, everything had gotten more intense, more heated. But in that bar, where they decided to spend time together while Sam went on a date with Sarah, it was like everything had been turned up to an eleven. This was different than the regular old attraction that he had with Cassie or yoga-teacher Lisa. This attraction to Julia was magnetic; he didn't just want to fuck her, he wanted everything with her.

And that freaked him the fuck out because, other than Cassie—and look how that turned out—Dean didn't do relationships. And Julia wasn't just some random chick that he could hang out with for a few weeks and then ditch. This was Julia Ruth Petersen; he had known her since she was born. He had watched her grow from a cute kid to an awkward pre-teen to the beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman she was today. She was important to him and he couldn't screw her up. He couldn't bring her down.

But it was tough when Julia clearly felt something back for him. He wasn't a stranger to women and he knew when he was wanted. That gleam in Julia's hazel eyes wasn't love that you have for your brother. The way she licked her lips when talking to him about the case they were on wasn't just to make sure the sensitive skin didn't dry out. The blush on her face wasn't from embarrassment.

Despite the fact that the attraction between them was obviously reciprocated, he couldn't do it. He couldn't take that step with her and he had to tell her the truth.

"Listen, Jules," he was trying to be delicate because he didn't want to hurt her feelings—and there was also the fact that he didn't want to do this. He wanted to give in. "I-I can't do this."

Julia's face fell. "What?"

"We have something going on, right? I mean, I know you feel it, too," Dean explain. "but I can't take that step with you. I can't ruin what we have."

"What we have?"

"I don't do relationships," he told her; it made his stomach twist when her pretty lips turned into a frown. "I'm sorry."

Julia eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "It's fine, Dean. I-I wasn't expecting anything...I was—we were just hanging out. Like friends."

"Right," Dean nodded, his heart sinking. "Like friends."

"I'm going to get a drink," Julia forced a smile as she stood up from the table they had occupied an hour earlier. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. I still have..." Dean trailed off when Julia practically ran away from the table; from him. "Okay."

He watched as she walked up to the bar, stepping onto the ledge so she could see the bartender properly. She pulled her fake ID out of her purse and flashed him a big smile before saying something that Dean couldn't hear. The bartender winked at her and then went to start making her drink.

And then a guy walked up to her side and plopped down on the stool next to where she was standing. He was a couple of inches shorter than Dean but still half a foot taller than Julia, with dark brown hair and a medium build. He said something to Julia and she smiled charmingly back at him.

Dean's stomach twisted again and this time it wasn't because he had to reject Julia. Dean was never really a jealous guy—he didn't have a reason to be—but something in him just hated the thought of another guy smiling at Julia and making her laugh. His heart raced and his jaw clenched; when the guy placed a hand at the small of her back, he jumped from his chair.

Mine, the primal part of his brain roared as he stomped over to the bar where Julia was talking with the asshole.

He swiftly wrapped his fingers around Julia's wrist, making sure his grip was light enough where she wasn't hurt. He pulled her off the ledge and tucked her into his side, pulling her away from the guy without a second thought.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" she asked him loudly as he escorted her out of the bar and through the parking lot that connected to their motel. "You can't just drag me around like some kind of ragdoll."

"Well, you can't just go around flirting with any man who smiles at you!" he retorted like he had any right.

Julia stopped in her tracks, only a couple of feet away from their rooms. "Are you joking?" she demanded, ripping her arm away from him as he turned to face her. "Dean, you were the one who said you didn't do relationships!"

"I don't!" he raised his voice. "but that doesn't mean you can just go off and fuck the next guy you see!"

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where you were in charge of me."

"You wish I was in charge of you, shortcake," Dean snapped back. "Then you wouldn't have to fuck random guys at bars."

"Oh, like you don't have your fun?" Julia raised her eyebrows. "How was the threesome last night, Dean?"

"We weren't talking about me."

"No, I think we were," Julia countered. "I think we were talking about the fact that you think that I'm going to sit around pining for you while you get your jollies off with everyone you meet. Guess what, Dean? That's not going to happen. You said you don't want to take that step with me, fine! But don't act like I have no right to do what or who I want."

Dean clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised his teeth weren't breaking. This wasn't a good combination; he was drunk, he was horny, and Julia was in front of him and she was everything. He was being reckless but fuck it...he could deal with the aftermath in the morning.

He firmly gripped her upper arms and pulled her to him, smashing his lips against hers. Julia didn't even try to protest, quickly returning his affection. Dean didn't believe in divine intervention or fate or anything like that, but it felt like he was made to kiss Julia. Like everything that had happened in their lives had come down to this moment and even though it wasn't perfect, it was them.

Their hands were everywhere; stroking bare arms, gliding over supple curves, gripping firm muscles. Dean didn't even know how they got into Julia's room but it didn't matter; he was gripped her thighs and she was wrapping her legs around him.

And, when they fall onto her bed, there was no hesitation or anxiety. It was trust, pleasure, and, most importantly, love.

-

Julia wasn't in a field this time but she still knew what was happening. Usually her dreams with her angel were never in the same place, so it was kind of relaxing to know that things were getting back to normal. She was seated in the last pew at her church back home; the church was empty and most of the lights were out but there was still a ray of sunshine beaming through one of the stain glass windows depicting the angel of Thursdays, Castiel.

"Julia Ruth," her angel greeted her.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately. "Usually when you pull me into these dreams I need guidance."

"It is needed, indeed."

"So, what's going to happen this time?" she raised an eyebrow at the window. "I mean, my brother just died and there wasn't a peep out of you. Didn't I need your guidance then?"

"I'm sorry about Levi," the angel told her, a hint of sadness in his voice. "but it might help you to know that he rests in Heaven where he belongs."

Despite the fact that her angel wasn't there in her time of need, the assurance that Levi was in Heaven—like she thought he would be—did help her. The knowledge gave her some peace that she had been missing ever since she learned that Levi died at the hands of Meg and the Daeva.

"So, what are you doing here, then?" Julia wondered. "What's going to happen that I need guidance for?"

"It's not what is going to happen but what is already done, Julia Ruth," her angel answered her. "You and Dean Winchester have found each other."

She struggled to figure out what he meant by that until she remembered what exactly exhausted her enough to fall asleep. She and Dean had sex and it was great—wait, did that mean...?

"You saw that?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't give us some privacy?"

"I am your guardian, Julia Ruth," her angel spoke as if watching her and Dean have sex was no big deal.

"Well, in the future, could you not watch?" Julia's cheeks flushed. "I'm not a voyeur."

"I do not understand."

"Never mind," she sighed. "Just, please, give me some privacy when things like that happen."

"I will try," her angel promised her.

Julia pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes; her angel sure was stubborn. "Okay, so back to why we're here..."

"Do not let Dean Winchester go, Julia Ruth," her angel commanded. "Just as you are chosen, he is chosen as well."

"Chosen for what?" he had said that she was chosen before but she still couldn't figure out what he meant by that. And, what, now Dean was chosen, too? "What does that mean?"

"Do not let him go," her angel repeated, ignoring her questions. "I will see you soon, Julia Ruth."

Julia wanted to protest but there was some banging noise coming from outside the doors that separated the chapel to the rest of the church. The light from the angel window went out as she stood up to see what the noise could be. When she opened the doors, she woke up.

It was morning. She knew that because she had forgotten to close the curtains to the front window the night before and now the sun was streaming into the room. Her eyes stung as she blinked rapidly, trying to remember the details of her rapidly fading dream.

And then there was another knock and she was easily distracted. "Julia, wake up!" she heard Sam call. "I got breakfast!"

Dean wasn't by her side anymore, though she was pretty sure he fell asleep before she did. Her disappointment went away when she sat up and saw a note sitting on the nightstand.

Jules,

Sam got the provenances from Sarah. It's that ugly painting of the family that's been going from victim to victim. We went to go burn the damn thing.

Love,

Dean

Julia got a little too excited when she read 'love'. She quickly stamped it down, reminding herself that Dean didn't do relationships.

Do not let Dean Winchester go.

She heard the whisper like someone had spoken out loud. She looked around, hoping that Sam had somehow gotten through her locked door but she was still alone. Great, now she was going crazy—crazier than she was, anyway.

"J, wake up!" Sam called again, knocking impatiently. "We're eating breakfast and then leaving!"

"I'm up!" Julia called back as she stood up, pulling a sheet up around her just in case Sam did break in and caught an eyeful of her very naked body. "Give me a few."

The knocking ceased so she guessed that Sam heard her. She grabbed a change of clothes and then hightailed it into the shower; she was sweaty, smelt like alcohol, and there was something sticky between her thighs that had her blushing.

When she was done making sure everything was washed thoroughly, she got dressed and unlocked the door connecting her room to Sam and Dean's. She didn't stop to think about any potential embarrassment that came with the morning-after with Dean. She was too hungry for that.

"Finally," Sam sighed when she walked into the room. "I've never seen you sleep that late before."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost ten. "Oh, sorry," she shook her head. "I guess I was tired."

"I bet you were," Dean spoke up from his seat next to Sam at the table, a naughty smirk on his face that his brother was oblivious to. "Hungry?"

"Yes," Julia flushed at Dean's remark but didn't let it get to her as she went to sit at the table and dig into the food they brought her. "Did you guys burn the painting?"

"Yep," Dean confirmed as she opened the container that held a bagel, cheesy eggs, and sausage; he stood up and walked over to his bed, starting to pack his bag. "In and out; easy as pie."

Julia hummed as she took a bite of her bagel, watching Sam as he frowned down at the table. "You okay, Sam?" she asked after she swallowed. "You look sad."

"Oh, no, I'm okay," Sam assured her quickly.

Julia could see right through him; something was bothering him and she would bet money that it had something to do with Sarah. His energy practically danced around him, full of indecision, guilt, and grief. Julia figured that he liked Sarah but was feeling guilty about Jess; it was a tough situation and she really felt for him.

"Shit," Dean suddenly cursed as he rummaged through his bags. "We have a problem; I can't find my wallet."

Sam seemed thankful for the fact that Dean had distracted Julia and the knowing gaze she was giving him. "How is that our problem?"

"Because I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

Julia looked at him in shock. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Dean left his bed to shrug on his jacket. "It's got my prints, my ID—well, my fake ID, anyway...We gotta get it before someone else finds it."

"Dean, I just started to eat," Julia protested, gesturing down to her food.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, shortcake," Dean rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, let's go."

They got to Daniel Blake's auction house fifteen minutes later. They started at the right side of the building first, looking in and around items that were up for show. There was no sign of Dean's wallet any where.

Sam sighed, frustrated. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?"

Dean threw his hands up defensively and continued to look, walking into the next aisle.

"Hey, guys!" Sarah walked up to them with an easy smile.

Sam practically flailed and almost fell over if it weren't for the fact that Julia grabbed his arm to steady him. "Sarah, hey!" he exclaimed while Julia waved with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh..." Sam looked at Julia for help but she just smiled sweetly at him. "We—we're leaving town and we came to say goodbye."

Dean walked over from the aisle he was looking in. "What are you talking about, Sam?" he drawled, coming up to Julia's side. "We're sticking around for at least another day or two."

Julia and Sam gave him looks of confusion while Sarah smiled.

"Oh, Sam," Dean dug his wallet out of his jeans and opened it up, taking out a twenty. "By the way, I wanted to give you that twenty bucks I owe you. I always forget," he chuckled and handed him the money. "There you go."

Julia smiled in realization; Dean was being a little matchmaker. It was cute but, at the same time, she didn't want him to push Sam.

Sam practically ripped the bill out of Dean's hands.

"Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone," Dean grabbed Julia's hand. "We gotta go do something...somewhere."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "We do?"

Dean rolled his eyes and tugged her away from Sam and Sarah. She flushed when she realized that he just wanted to give the two of them some time alone without their presence making it awkward. Knowing Sam, though, he'd make it awkward enough without them around.

"You shouldn't push Sam, you know," Julia told Dean as he led her out to the Impala.

Dean gave her a curious look. "Why not? He likes Sarah."

"Yeah, I know he does but he's also still grieving for Jess," she explained as he leaned against Baby. "He's feeling guilty for liking another woman."

"Hmm," Dean hummed, wrapping his hands around her hips to bring her closer to him; Julia shivered, pleased with the contact. "And how do you know that?"

"His energy," she told him simply, moving to wrap her arms around his waist. "It's getting easier to read you guys since I'm around you all the time."

"Is it?" Dean raised an eyebrow, his green eyes sparkling down at her. "What does my energy say today?"

Julia grinned. "You're feeling mischievous..."

"Mmm," Dean leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"and caring..."

"Of course," he pecked the tip of her nose.

"and excited."

"I think that one's a given, baby," he kissed her lips for only a second, earning himself a pout when he pulled away. "Are you okay with this?"

"Are you?" Julia countered curiously.

Dean could see the worried look in her eye and while he was worried himself, he knew that he couldn't walk away from Julia. Not after all they had been through. Not after the previous night. Not with the way he felt about her.

"I care about you, Julia. In a way that I can honestly say I've never felt before," Dean told her. "and I'm not good at relationships but if we can take it slow..."

Do not let go of Dean Winchester, another whisper flittered through her head.

"We can take it slow," Julia agreed; if that was what Dean needed then she would give that to him. "but I need to know that this isn't going to be a one-sided thing, Dean."

"Like am I gonna fuck around with other chicks?"

Julia clicked her tongue. "Must you be so vulgar?"

"Well, that wasn't what you were saying last night," Dean smirked, causing her to blush and slap his chest playfully. "But yes, Julia, I will not sleep with anyone but you."

Julia grinned at him. "And I won't sleep with anyone but you, too."

"Good," Dean gave her another quick peck. "cause you're mine and I don't share."

"Caveman."

"I'll show you a caveman," Dean growled playfully, smushing his lips to her jaw and pretending to gnaw on the skin. Julia squeaked and giggled, coaxing a few chuckles out of Dean as she tried to squirm away.

They heard the doors to the auction house open and abruptly pulled away from each other, thinking along the same lines. They didn't want anyone to know about this yet; especially since they were taking things slow.

Sam hurriedly walked toward the car, oblivious that anything less than friendly had been happening between Julia and Dean. Julia was caught off guard by the urgent and worried expression on his face.

It didn't take long for Sam to reach them. "We have a problem," he breathed. "The painting. It's still there."

"You're fucking with us, aren't you?" Dean asked him, not taking the bait. "This is because I made you come here, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Sam shook his head. "Dean, I'm not lying. The painting is still there. Like we never burned the damn thing."

The three of them got into the Impala so no one could overhear their conversation.

"I don't understand," Julia admitted, leaning her elbows on the front seat. "How did it survive?"

"I have no idea," Dean grumbled. "but we need to figure out another way to get rid of it," he turned to Sam. "Any ideas?"

"Okay, all right," Sam gathered his thoughts. "Well, in almost all the lore about haunted painting, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

Dean nodded. "So, we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creep-ass family and that creepy-ass painting..."

-

They headed to the local library to do some digging. Luckily for them, the library employed its own local history expert named Keith who was very enthusiastic when Julia, Dean, and Sam went to him to ask about the Isaiah Merchant family. He was especially fond of Julia, gushing over the fact that she looked a little like his oldest granddaughter.

It took only ten minutes for Keith to find information about Isaiah Merchant. He slammed down two large books, one was a regular textbook while the other held old newspaper articles, down onto the table that Julia, Dean, and Sam sat around at.

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" Keith checked one more time.

Julia nodded. "Yes, sir."

Keith happily opened the book of newspapers. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," he informed them. "So, are you three crime buffs?"

"Kind of," Dean confirmed as he sat on the table to get a better look of what Keith was showing them. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Keith held up a newspaper; the frontline was about the sinking of the Titanic but Keith tapped on one of the smaller articles to the side. It read, Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.

"Yes," Dean pointed at it. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Sam studied the article. "The whole family was killed?"

Keith nodded. "It seems this Isaiah, he slit his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself," he told them. "Now, he was a barber by trade; used a straight razor."

Julia wrinkled her nose. "Why did he do it?"

"Well, let's look," Keith said enthusiastically, turning to the full article and beginning to read, "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament who controlled his family with an iron fist. He had a wife, two sons, and an adopted daughter...yada, yada, oh...There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave," he looked up to explain, "Which, of course, you know in that day and age...so, instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave."

Keith snickered and made a slitting gesture across his throat; Julia and Sam didn't find it very funny but Dean gave him a couple of chuckles before sobering up when Julia and Sam gave him stern looks.

"So," Dean turned back to Keith. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?"

Keith took another peek at the article. "It says they were all cremated."

Julia, Dean, and Sam exchanged pointed looks before Sam asked Keith, "Anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Keith nodded and set down the newspaper before picking up the book. He flipped to the page that he had marked, showing it to them. "I found a picture of the family."

The picture looked just like the painting that Sam and Dean tried to destroy. There was a little difference between the two, though. When Julia had seen the portrait last, the father had been looking down; in the picture, Isaiah was facing the painter head-on.

"Keith, could we get a copy of this?" Julia asked, giving the man a sweet smile.

"Sure thing," Keith nodded happily. "Just give me a second."

-

"I'm telling you, man, I'm sure of it," Sam insisted, pushing the picture Keith had printed for them to Dean. "The painting at the auction house had Isaiah looking down. The painting here, he's looking out. It changed."

Dean grabbed the photo and looked at it for a second. "All right, so, you think that daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did to his family?"

"Well, yeah, it seems like it," Sam said quickly. "But if his bones are already dusted, how are we gonna stop him?"

"If Isaiah changed in the painting, do you think that something else changed too?" Julia spoke up, lounging at the end of Sam's bed.

"Could be," Dean shrugged, getting up from the table where he sat across from Sam to plop onto his bed. "Maybe it will give us some clues."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam looked at him skeptically.

Dean hesitated for a few seconds before admitting, "I don't know. I'm still waiting for the movie on that one."

Julia grinned softly and rolled her eyes before focusing on the painting. "Okay, so we have to get back in and see the painting."

"Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend," Dean added, pointing to Sam.

"Dude," Sam gave his brother an annoyed look. "Enough already."

"What?"

"What?" Sam repeated in disbelief. "Ever since we got here you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?"

Dean crossed his arms and rested them on his stomach. "Well, you like her, don't you?" Sam shrugged and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults..."

"What's the point, Dean?" Sam asked angrily. "We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam!"

"I don't get it," Sam raised his voice. "Why do you care if I hook up?"

"Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the damn time," Dean answered him calmly.

"Dean," Julia gave him a warning look while Sam scoffed in disbelief.

Dean sighed and sat up so his back was off the headboard. "You know, seriously Sam, this isn't just about hooking up, okay? I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you," Sam sighed and scratched the back of his head, looking away guiltily. "And...I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?"

Julia inhaled softly, shocked to hear Dean use what she told him earlier. She didn't think he was doing it to make things worse; he looked concerned for his baby brother and was trying to give him some guidance.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but..." he hesitated, a faraway look in his green eyes. "but I would think that she would want you to be happy God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?"

Having known Jess for years, ever since they were roomed together freshman year of college, Julia spoke up. "She would, Sam," she whispered. "I know it hurts, I know...but Jess would be happy for you."

Sam smiled fondly, remembering how much Jess loved him and wanted him to be happy. "Yeah, she would," he agreed softly. "and yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica but not the main part."

"What do you mean, Sam?" Julia asked quietly. "What's it about?"

Sam pursed his lips sadly and looked away from her, glancing down at the table. It was strange; Sam used to never shy away from telling her what was going on with him. They used to share everything; from nightmares to relationship insecurities.

"All right," Dean spoke up, knowing that Sam wasn't going to answer Julia; he laid back down. "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..."

Sam cleared his throat and grabbed his phone, dialing Sarah's number. "Hey, Sarah, it's Sam," he spoke into the phone. "Good. Good, yeah. What about you? Yeah, good, really good..."

Julia grinned in amusement, giving Sam a thumbs' up when he looked at her with an awkward smile. Dean snickered, whispering something about Sam being as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

"So, ah, listen," Sam cut to the chase. "My friend, Julia, she was thinking that maybe she'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think she's interested in buying it...What?!" he exclaimed, standing up in shock; Julia and Dean perked up, wondering what was going on. "Who'd you sell it to? Sarah, I need an address right now."

-

It turned out that Daniel Blake had sold the painting to a woman named Evelyn, despite the fact that Sarah didn't want it sold so soon after the Telescas' deaths. Julia, Dean, and Sam rushed to Evelyn's house, with Sarah meeting up with them, but were too late to save Evelyn. She had her throat slit from ear to ear while the painting was posted on the fireplace mantle a few feet away from her.

The three of them left the house after pulling Sarah away from Evelyn's body, leaving the freaked-out woman to deal with the police herself. They had gone back to the motel to wait for news and do a little research when Sarah showed up, knocking on the door.

"Hey," Sam let her into the room. "Are you all right?"

"No, actually," Sarah retorted as she stomped over to the table, putting her back to Julia and Dean to confront Sam. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."

Dean smirked over at Julia and she shook her head at him.

Sam sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back and tell them what the hell's going on," Sarah snapped at him. "Who's killing these people?"

Sam looked to Julia and Dean for guidance; when they both nodded at him, he corrected Sarah, "What."

Sarah gave him a confused look. "What?"

"It's not a who," Sam elaborated. "It's what is killing those people."

From the look that Sarah shot Sam, Julia could tell that she already thought they were insane.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No...No, I was...I was seeing things," Sarah shook her head, remembering the way that Isaiah looked at her when she found Evelyn's body. "It's impossible."

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world," Dean commented.

Julia rolled her eyes at Dean and then addressed Sarah, "Look, we sound crazy, we know, but that painting is haunted."

Sarah scoffed lightly, tears coming to her eyes. "You're joking," she looked to Sam; when she saw that he was serious, she rolled her eyes. "You're not joking. God, the guys I chose to go out with."

"Sarah, think about it," Sam urged her. "Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting and there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die and we're just trying to stop it. That's the truth."

Sarah inhaled deeply but came around to the idea of the painting being haunted pretty quickly. "Then I guess you better show me," she demanded. "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Sam was taken aback. "No, Sarah, no. You should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and...and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Look, you guys are probably crazy but if you're right about this, then me and my dad sold this painting that got these people killed," Sarah said firmly. "Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell but...I'm not going to run and hide, either."

Julia grinned at Sarah. She was always so impressed when random civilians stood up to do what was right, even if the thing they were standing up against was supernatural. Their whole lives, they didn't know things like this existed but, when push came to shove, they were there to make things right. It was inspiring; it was why she loved people and why she loved what she did.

"Well said," Julia jumped out of her seat and held her hand out for Sarah.

Sarah high-fived her and then looked at Sam expectantly, "So, are we going or what?"

-

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah broke into the crime scene that was Evelyn's house so they could compare the painting to the picture of the painting. They discovered that the razor in the picture was closed while the razor in the actual painting was open. There was also another difference where the painting inside the painting was of the Merchant crypt.

The four of them went through two different cemeteries before they found the crypt in the third one. The Merchant crypt had an old teddy bear and the daughter's glass doll preserved, along with four urns, which meant that Isaiah Merchant had been buried somewhere else.

While Sam and Sarah sat and had a heart-to-heart, Julia and Dean went to find out exactly if and where Isaiah Merchant was buried. It turned out that the surviving Merchant family was ashamed of Isaiah so they handed his body over to the county, who buried him. When nighttime came, the four of them went to his grave and dug Isaiah up, salting and burning his bones.

Once everything was done and Isaiah was dust, Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah drove back to Evelyn's house to check on the painting. Sarah and Sam went into the house by themselves—much to Dean's insistence because he thought Sam should make a move on Sarah—while Julia and Dean stayed in the Impala with the motor running.

While Sam and Sarah were in the house, the door was forcefully slammed shut. Dean and Julia were unable to get it open, despite picking the lock and trying to kick it down. Sam called them and informed them that it was the daughter was the one who was killing people. When the spirit tried to attack Sam, he held her off until they figured out that the girl's doll had been made with her real hair.

Julia and Dean took off back to the cemetery to visit the Merchant's crypt. The glass incasing the doll was thick and hard to break open but Dean eventually figured out that he could just shoot the glass away. Julia took her sweet time trying to lit the lighter, which was not cooperating, but after a couple hundred tries, she managed to light the doll's hair on fire. It was just in time, too, because it turned out that the spirit was just about to kill Sam and Sarah.

The next morning, Julia did some research on the Merchant daughter while Sarah made sure that the painting was being hauled away someone couldn't buy it again. She and Dean met back up with her and Sarah outside of the auction house where they were prepared to say goodbye.

"This was archived in the county records," she informed Sam and Sarah, holding up the papers she printed. "The Merchant's adopted daughter was named Melanie. She was up for adoption because her real family was murdered in their beds."

"She killed them?" Sarah asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "Who would suspect her? She looks like a sweet little girl."

"Isaiah took the blame and his spirit has been trying to warn people ever since," Julia finished. "Poor guy."

"Where's this one go?" one of Sarah's employees asked her, gesturing to the crate where the Merchant portrait was held.

"Take it out back and burn it," Sarah order; her employee looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm serious, guys. Thanks."

When the employee and his partner picked up the crate and carried it out of the show room, Sarah turned to Julia, Dean, and Sam. "So, why'd the girl do it?"

"Killing others or killing herself?" Sam shrugged. "Some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark."

"Maybe," Dean gruffed. "I don't really care. It's over, we move on."

Sarah nodded in realization and looked at Sam sadly. "I guess this means you're leaving."

Julia looked between her and Sam and then back again before grabbing Dean's arm. "We'll go wait in the car," she told them before smiling at Sarah. "Nice meeting you, Sarah."

"See you around," Dean added as Julia started pulling him out of the building; Sarah hardly noticed them leaving. "We're the ones that burned the doll and destroyed the spirit but don't thank us or anything."

"Oh, so bitter," Julia sang teasingly. "The hero didn't get the girl this time. What ever shall he do?"

"I got the girl," Dean grabbed her hand from his arm and twirled her around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "just not the damsel in distress."

Julia smiled happily up at Dean, cherishing the way his green eyes lit up in happiness. She stood on her tip-toes and pursed her lips, giggling when Dean chased them down with his own.

Julia anxiously watched the printer in Beth and Taylor's study, her lips quirking into a smile as the professional cursive was inked onto the expensive paper that Beth insist she get for her diploma. She had finally graduated from Stanford and, although she didn't get to attend graduation, she was very proud of herself. Her double major in Religion and Linguistics had been received simply because she was too meticulous and stubborn to let her education go waste.

But now that education was over and she couldn't lie and say she wasn't happy about it.  Sixteen years in school was a long time—even though she went two years less than other people she graduated with—and she was glad that part of her life was over. She just wished that her mom and Levi were still here to witness this. Still, she knew they were watching up in Heaven and that was the best she was going to get.

Once the printer spit out her diploma, she carefully set it on Beth's desk so the ink could dry without any smudges. She was just taking a seat in the desk chair where her open laptop was sitting so she could continue working on the case she found for Sam and Dean down in Texas when her cellphone rang.

She wasn't surprised that it was Dean; he had been calling her every couple of hours to check up on her. He wasn't happy that she didn't want to hit the road just yet after Levi's death but he understood and was supportive anyway. He just made sure she knew that he and Sam would check up on her and the rest of the Petersen family. That was sweet and everything and Julia appreciated how supportive the Winchester brothers were being but sometimes there was such a thing as too many calls. She couldn't believe that Dean accused her of talking too much.

Beth and Abby thought it was the cutest thing ever when she'd have to leave the room to talk to Sam and Dean—though it was mostly Dean as she and Sam communicated through a text thread—and not return for a half-hour. Beth and Abby weren't the ones who had to assure a very worried Dean every couple of minutes that they were safe and feeling a little bit better. Usually Julia was the mother-hen but, apparently, in her absence, Dean took up the title.

Julia sighed and flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Dean."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn't see the obvious look on her face. "What's up?"

"Well, Sam just woke up with a spoon in his mouth," Dean chuckled, sounding satisfied with himself. "and I took a picture to send to you."

"Yeah, it's real funny, Dean," Sam grumbled.

Julia shook her head in amusement; Sam and Dean's prank wars were always a hit with Dean, even if Sam didn't enjoy them as much as his older brother.

"Where are you guys?"

"A few hours outside of Richardson," Dean answered her. "Give me the low down on this case you found."

"Okay," Julia pressed the space button on her laptop, waking it up, and clicked on the folder of information she collected. "About two months ago, a group of kids went poking around a local haunted house."

"Haunted by what?" Sam wondered.

"A misogynistic spirit, I guess. Like we need any more of those in the world," she hummed in disapproval; Sam chuckled in agreement. "Anyway, the legend goes that it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters."

"Okay, so what happened with this group of kids?" Dean said, getting her back on track.

"They saw a dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"The body was gone by the time the cops got there," Julia clicked on the police report in the file. "The police think that the kids were playing a joke on them."

"Maybe the cops were right," Sam suggested.

"They could be but I've read some of the first-hand accounts from the kids involved," Julia sighed. "They seemed pretty sincere about the whole thing."

Dean sounded skeptical when he spoke next. "And where did you read these accounts, Junior?"

Julia took a beat, glad that he couldn't see the flush rising in her face. "I might have surfed through some local paranormal websites."

"Mmhm," she could hear Dean's disapproval even though he hummed. "and what's it called?"

Julia sighed as she read the website from the file, "Hell hounds lair dot-com," she heard Sam laugh. "Hey, it could be legit!"

"Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the ass, Julia," Dean sighed.

"Hey, you wanted a case, I delivered," Julia defended herself. "If it's nothing, that's fine, but it doesn't hurt to check it out."

"Especially since we let Dad and Luke take off," Sam backed up Julia.

Julia frowned, still bitter about that. She wasn't mad at Dean and Sam by any means. No, she was angry with her dad. He didn't come when Julia was dying or when Levi actually died but he was fine following John Winchester to Chicago just to see the failed trap the girl who killed Levi set up for them.

It wasn't like his daughters were only a half-hour away, mourning the loss of their older brother or anything. It wasn't like his only son was killed.

"Fine," Dean gave in when he heard Julia's silence. He had been the one to tell her that they saw Luke with their dad and it was heartbreaking to see the expression on her face. He hoped he'd never let her down like Luke did. "We'll check it out. How have you been doing, shortcake?"

"I'm fine," Julia twisted her lips. "I got my diploma today."

"Wait, are you serious?" Sam exclaimed. "That's great, J! Congratulations!"

"I'm proud of you, Julia," Dean added sincerely.

"Thanks, guys," Julia's chest swelled with love. She was so glad that Sam and Dean Winchester were in her life.

"Send me a picture."

"I will," she agreed to Sam's request. "Well, I'll let you go—"

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped her from hanging up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Dean..."

"I mean, you can talk to us."

Julia quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't do chick-flick moments?"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well..." he changed the subject. "How many times have you watched Dirty Dancing since we left?"

Julia hesitated; Dirty Dancing was her go-to movie to watch whenever she was sad. It was her mother's favorite movie and Julia grew up watching it a lot. She absolutely adored Patrick Swayze, the dancing, the music, and the love story that made up the film. It made her happier.

"Jules?"

"I've watched it every night, okay?" she confessed. "Leave me alone, I'm delicate."

"All right, all right," Dean gave in; Julia could tell that he was worried about her and that was sweet but watching that movie was her coping mechanism and it hadn't let her down so far. "We'll talk later, shortcake. Stay safe."

"I will," she promised. "You guys be safe, too. Love you."

"Love ya, too, J," Sam called. "Bye."

"Bye."

Julia closed her phone and set it down on the desk beside her laptop. She pulled up her internet browser and started doing more research for the case, hoping that any information she pulled would help the brothers out.

-

Dean and Sam walked into the record shop, looking around for the guy that the witnesses said sent them to the house where they saw the dead girl. As they passed by the first table full of records, a worker came out from the back with his hands full of more merchandise to put away.

"Gentlemen, can I help you with anything?" he asked them.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked him politely.

"I am," the worker confirmed as he put a record in place.

"Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News," Dean told him. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

"No way," Craig's face lit up. "I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Ah, good for you, Morrison," Dean chuckled as he began to look through the crate of records in front of him. He completely missed the confused look that Craig gave him but Sam noticed and cleared his throat.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one," Sam smiled at Craig, wishing that Julia was here to get the information out of him—she was much better with the guys than he was.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asked.

Dean nodded, looking up from the records. "That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig said avoidantly.

"Why don't you tell us the story."

"Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer named Mordechai Murdoch used to live in this house with his six daughters," Craig told them after a moment of hesitation. "It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, and he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death, so he attacked them," Craig stated. "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung them up, one after the other. And, when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

Dean pressed his lips together; the story Craig was telling sounded just like that. A story. His words were something out of a dramatic novel, not a true story. And what parent would just kill their kids instead of trying to do whatever it took to make sure they lived?

"Where'd you hear all of this?" he asked Craig.

"My cousin, Dana, told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do," Sam assumed.

"I don't know what the hell to think, man," Craig shrugged. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again."

Dean shared a look with Sam and then nodded at Craig. "Thanks."

A half-hour later, Sam and Dean were walking through mud to get to the so-called Hell House. It was creepy looking, they had to admit, but not anything less creepy than the things they saw everyday during their job. It was just a little run-down house, not much else.

"I can't say I blame the kid," Sam sighed, his eyes searching the grounds around the house.

"Yeah," Dean agreed as they got closer to the house. "so much for curb appeal."

Sam took a look around the perimeter of the house while Dean pulled out the EMF meter. It whirled like it usually did when there was anything unusual around but the way it started up as soon as he pressed it on, made him think that something was off.

He tapped the device, frustrated, as Sam came back over to him.

"You got something?"

"Yeah, the EMF's no good," Dean looked around, the powerlines above the house catching his eye.

"Why?"

Dean nodded at the power lines. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"Come on, let's go."

They entered the house, finding that it was unlocked in its abandoned state. They started in the front room and then moved onto the living room where a fireplace lined with various candles was. The walls were covered in spray paint, a bunch of different symbols that didn't really even go together scattered randomly around the room.

Dean whistled sarcastically. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger in his time."

"And after his time, too," Sam muttered, eyeing a symbol of an encircled cross. "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of Sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Dean gave Sam a long took, wrinkling his nose. "How do you know that?"

"I listen to Julia when she talks about this kind of stuff," Sam said pointedly, knowing that Dean checked out whenever something that required a little brain power was brought up.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he walked across the room, looking at more of the symbols on the walls. He stopped in front of one that looked like an upside-down question mark with two little lines on either side. It looked kind of familiar. "Hey, what about this one? Have you seen this one before?"

Sam studied the symbol and took a picture of it with his phone. "No."

"I have...Somewhere," he couldn't place it, though.

Sam cautiously reached toward the symbol, rubbing it with his fingertips. "It's paint," he studied the slight stain that it left. "Seems pretty fresh, too."

Dean sighed and turned away from the symbol. "I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind but the cops may be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe—"

A loud noise cut off Sam's agreement. The brothers instantly went on alert and followed the noise to a door that led to another room. They stood on either side of it; when Sam nodded, Dean whipped open the door and stepped into the room.

He was immediately attacked by bright beams of lights right in his eyes and two groans of horror. When the flashlights flitted away, he could see that there were two guys in front of them, around his age with camera gear.

The brunette groaned. "Oh, cut. It's just a couple of humans," he told his companion, who shut the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean countered.

"Uh, we belong here," the ginger guy with the camera drawled. "We're professionals."

"Professional what?"

"Paranormal investigators," the ginger reached into his pocket and pulled out a card to give to them. "Here you go, take a look at that, boys."

Dean took the card and read it. He groaned in realization, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler? Hellhoundslair.com," Sam read over his shoulder. "You guys run that website?"

Ed, who was the ginger with the camera, nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans," Dean said sarcastically as he passed Ed and Harry to check out more of the kitchen.

"And we know who you guys are, too," Ed said.

Dean and Sam turned to face him sharply. "Oh, yeah?"

"Amateurs," as soon as the words were out of Ed's mouth, Dean pursed his lips and turned away once again. "looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep," the other guy, Harry, agreed. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here."

"Yeah?" Dean noticed a gadget that they must have brought with them on the counter; he picked it up to inspect it. "What do you have so far?"

"Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed prompted his friend.

Harry hesitated. "Well..."

"EMF?" Sam played dumb and Dean saw that he was trying not to smile.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry told him as though he was an expert. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector," he pulled a EMF reader out of his canvas vest. "Like this bad boy right here."

He turned on the EMF, causing it to whirl angrily. "Woah, woah," he exchanged an excited look with Ed while Dean smirked at Sam. "It's two-point-eight MG."

"Two-point-eight," Ed repeated excitedly. "It's hot in here."

Dean whistled mockingly while Sam tried not to laugh. "Wow."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue. "So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before?"

"Once," Ed looked back to where Dean was standing by the counters. "We were, uh, we were investigation this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself," Harry added needlessly.

"Well, we didn't actually see it, we heard it," Ed corrected himself but grew serious again. "And something like that...it, uh, it changes you."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Dean crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to Sam. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, you should."

Dean nodded at his brother and then the door. "Sam."

Sam followed him out of the kitchen and they left the house, not wanting to deal with the kids who wanted to enter the big leagues.

-

Julia kneaded the sugar cookie dough on the counter in front of her, humming along to whatever Disney song that the radio that was playing throughout the kitchen. Lizzie was on her side of the island, cutting out cookies with a heart-shaped cookie cutter while Beth and Abby were on the other side, decorating some of the finished cookies with colorful icing.

Once that song was finished, a familiar one started, making her smile.

"Oh, I love this song!" Abby exclaimed while concentrating on the flower cookie she was creating. "Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns!"

"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?" Beth joined in.

Julia sang next. "You're the saddest bunch I ever met but you can bet before we're through..."

"Mister, I'll make a man out of you!" Lizzie finished loudly, making Julia, Beth, and Abby laugh.

They continued singing along to the best song that Mulan produced while making cookies. When Lizzie was finished with the rest of the heart batch, Julia slid the tray into the oven. Once she set the timer, she gave Lizzie the last batch of dough, allowing her to cut out some dinosaurs.

"I'm done with the dinosaurs, Momma!" Lizzie announced once the dough was gone.

"Good job, cutie," Beth smiled. "Why don't you go wash your hands?"

"Okay!" Lizzie climbed off the stool she was standing on and ran out of the kitchen to the nearest bathroom.

"Use soap!" Beth called after her; once she was sure her daughter couldn't overhear her, she turned to Julia. "So..."

Julia pursed her lips, knowing what was coming. Since Dean and Sam left four days before, Beth had been waiting to talk to her about something. She had that look in her eyes where she wanted girl talk and it also occurred every time Dean called her. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Julia sighed and started wiping the excess flour from the counter. "So what?"

Beth smiled coyly and Abby shook her head impatiently. "She wants to know about you and Dean."

"What about me and Dean?"

There was no her and Dean, no matter how much Julia wanted that. She had moments recently when she and Dean spoke—especially when Sam wasn't joining the conversations—where she thought Dean might have the same romantic feelings that she had but she wasn't sure. Dean cared about his family and he considered her and the rest of the Petersen family his family. It wasn't like he was pining after her the same way she was pining after him.

"Oh, stop deflecting, Julia Ruth," Beth scolded her. "There's something going on with you and Dean and I—" Abby cleared her throat and Beth corrected herself, "—we want to know."

Julia scoffed and threw her washcloth into the sink. "There is nothing going on. Trust me."

Beth and Abby exchanged skeptical looks. "But you want there to be, don't you?" Beth guessed; she gasped loudly when she saw Julia scratch her cheek. "Oh, my God, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"You scratched your cheek, you liar," Abby pointed out with a laugh. Julia scowled at her. "We're sisters, Jules. Sisters talk about this stuff."

"I've never talked to you about my boyfriends before," Julia protested.

"That's because by the time you had an actual boyfriend you were at Stanford," Beth reminded her. "and you did use to talk to me about boys. Remember that guy you liked when you were in high school?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," Julia groaned; Abby and Beth gave her expectant looks. "Fine, I like Dean. Happy?"

"Extremely," Abby smirked. "He sucked you back in, huh? How old were you when your crush on him finally went away?"

Julia blushed. "Fourteen."

Abby snorted in amusement. "Yeah, now I remember."

Julia sent her a glare while Beth slapped her arm. "Abby, stop," she scolded her before turning back to Julia. "Ignore her, Jules. It were cute."

"A fourteen-year-old crushing on a guy who was twenty? Yeah right," Julia scoffed. "And that's the problem, isn't it? He's almost seven years older than me. He doesn't see me as anything but a little sister."

Abby calmed her laughter. "Jules, Dean doesn't look at you like a sister," she told her baby sister. "He looks at me and Beth as sisters. He looks at you like you're sex on legs."

It was Beth's turn to giggle as Julia's cheeks darkened further and she ducked her head.

"And Sam says that he always checks you out," Abby added.

Julia looked up sharply. "He did?" Abby nodded. "Since when do you talk to Sam?"

"Since he grew up to be a hottie with a body."

Julia rolled her eyes so heavily that it hurt. "No one actually says that, Ab."

"Since when were we talking about me?" Abby protested as Beth laughed again. "my point it that Dean wants to fuck you."

"Okay, the five-year-old is going to be back any second so let's not use that language," Beth smothered her laughter as they heard the faucet cut off in the bathroom. "But, seriously, Julia, he likes you."

"What we're going from sex to feelings now?" Julia asked incredulously. "Sex, I get. I'm hot and Dean loves sex but feelings? Are we talking about the same Dean Winchesters, here?"

"I wanna talk about Uncle Dean!" Lizzie chirped as she ran back into the kitchen. She climbed back onto her stool and looked eagerly at her mom and aunts. "Are you talking about the crush he has on Auntie Jules?"

Julia gaped at her while Abby pointed enthusiastically. "See? Lizzie sees it too."

"That's because Beth's poisoning her mind."

"No," Lizzie protested innocently. "I heard Uncle Sammy and Auntie Abby talking about it."

"Well, I'm so glad that my love life is so interesting to you guys," Julia huffed with warm cheeks. She glanced at the oven, wishing the timer for the cookies would go off so they could change the subject.

"Look," Beth sighed. "Dean calls you multiple times a day, every day just to see how you're doing. Do you think he does that to anyone else who isn't Sam?"

"He's checking up on me."

"Don't give us that sh—crap," Abby shook her head, correcting herself before she could cuss in front of Lizzie. "You're scared that you'll put yourself out there and get rejected."

"Because it's Dean!" Julia exclaimed, frustrated. "Dean, who doesn't do relationships. So what if I want to protect myself? That's good."

"It's good to protect yourself," Beth agreed and grabbed Julia's clenched fists. "but you and Dean...you should see each other. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you're not looking. You move even an inch and he's shifting toward you. The way I see it, is this isn't a passing fancy."

"You're together every day, you fight along side each other, you protect one another," Abby continued. "You trust each other and that's rare in our profession, Jules. Even I can see that you guys have something special."

Julia wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. It was nice hearing her sisters say these things but she couldn't tell Dean about her less than platonic feelings for him. He was too important to her and she didn't want to lose him, even if it meant she had to get over her feelings. Dean didn't do relationships and she had tried the one-night stand thing and it didn't go well for her. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

As if the universe was disagreeing with her, her phone rang from the counter by the fridge. Lizzie eagerly climbed off her stool again and raced toward the phone, flipping it open.

"Hi, this is Lizzie!" she chirped before gasping excitedly. "Uncle Dean, we were just talking about you!"

"Lizzie!" Julia lunged toward her niece, ignoring her flour-covered hands to grab the phone from her. She pressed it against her ear. "Uh, hey, Dean."

"Hi there, shortcake," Dean's voice was coy. "Heard that you girls were talking about me. Are there gonna be pillow fights next because, if you want, you could—"

"Okay," Julia hurried interrupted him, waving frantically at her sisters as they laughed at the mortified expression on her face. "We were, um, we're making cookies actually, so...yeah."

"And I just so happen to come up in the conversation?" she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

"Uh, yeah, because," she walked out of the kitchen and into the bathroom next door, shutting the door firmly behind her. "I was telling Lizzie that you liked pie instead of cookies."

Dean perked up. "You guys are making pie?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Julia agreed even though they hadn't really planned on it. "So, what's going on down there?"

"Eh, we got some more information," Dean sighed, becoming serious again. "Some kid told us that a guy named Mordechai Murdoch killed his six daughters during the Depression but what Sam found didn't quite match up."

Julia frowned. "Well, what did he find?"

"That the guy's name was actually Martin and he had two sons instead of six daughters," Dean informed her. "There's nothing to say he ever killed anyone."

"Huh," Julia wrinkled her nose. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I talked to the police and there's no missing persons, either," Dean paused for a second. "Jules, we dug like you wanted but we don't think there's anything here."

"Well, that's good, then," Julia said. "No spirit, no dead people, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, on your way back, you can stop in Houston," she suggested. "I, um, I got that NASA tour for Levi, remember?"

"Jules, we can't—"

"Yeah, you can," Julia insisted. "I don't want it to go to waste and you love that kind of stuff, Dean. You and Sam deserve some fun once in a while, you know?"

Dean was quiet for a few seconds. "All right. We'll check it out."

"Good," she smiled. "I'll email Sam the information about the tour and hotel."

"Thanks, shortcake," Dean's voice cheered up a little. "I'll call you later when we head out, okay?"

"Okay, talk later. Bye, Dean."

"Bye."

Julia snapped the phone shut and sighed, pressing it to her chest. She was glad that she got to the phone before Lizzie could spill on what they were really talking about. Dean was already insufferable when he knew they were talking about him but if he knew that they were talking about feelings and sex and all that, his ego wouldn't be able to fit in the Hancock building.

She slipped her flour-covered phone into her apron pocket and quickly washed her hands before heading back to the kitchen.

-

Before Sam and Dean could even leave town, they got a call from the detective Dean spoke with the day before. The sun was still setting when he called, telling them to get to the Hell House as soon as possible. When they arrived on scene, a body bag was being carted to the coroner's van. The detective informed them that a girl had hung herself in the house, which sounded just like the Mordechai story went.

They went back to the Hell House around midnight and dodged the cops when those nerds, Ed and Harry showed up. Mordechai ended up attacking with an ax and was immune to rock salt, which led them to more research.

Dean sat on his bed, drawing that familiar symbol on the notepad that the motel provided. "What the hell is this symbol? It's bugging the hell out of me," he looked up at Sam, who was researching at the table. "This whole fucking job is bugging me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam said distractedly, focusing on his laptop.

"All right, well, that explains why he went after you but why me?"

"Hilarious," Sam looked away from the screen to scowl at him. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah."

"What's up with that?" Sam shook his head. "And the ax, too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again?"

Dean nodded. "This dick keeps changing."

"Exactly. I'm telling you, the way the story goes..." Sam typed in Ed and Harry's website and pressed enter, waiting as it loaded. His eyes widened when he saw a new article about the Hell House. "Wait a minute."

Dean looked up from his notepad. "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site," Sam informed him. "Listen to this: They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now, he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

Dean sat up as he stared at the symbol he had drawn, finally recognizing it.

"Where the hell is this going?"

"I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started," Dean rolled off his bed. "Come on, we gotta go to the record store."

They entered the record store not long after, spotting Craig at the cash register.

"Hey, Craig," Dean called to him over the loud rock music playing through the store. "Remember us?"

Craig sighed. "Guys, look, I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean waved him off as he stopped in front of the record crate marked with the second letter of the alphabet. "We're just here to buy an album, that's all."

He quickly flicked through the records in the crate and pressed his lips together when he found the one he was looking for. On the back of a Blue Oyster Cult record, he saw the symbol he had recognized at the Hell House.

He grabbed it and slowly walked over to Craig with Sam on his heels.

"You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything," Dean told Sam conversationally, his voice hardening toward the end. "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult. Tell me, Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people?"

When Craig turned around to face him and Sam, he handed the Blue Oyster Cult album to him. He took it and flipped it over, eyes flitting over the cover art, which included the symbol that was spray painted at the Hell House.

"Why don't you tell us about that house," Dean suggested. "Without lying through your ass this time."

Craig looked up at Dean for a moment. "All right," he sighed heavily. "My cousin Dana was on a break from TCU. I guess we were just bored and looking for something to do. So, I showered her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted so we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks."

"Then, we found out this guy, Murdoch, used to live there so we made up some story to go along with that," he continued. "They told people, who told other people, and then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took a life of its own."

Dean blinked at him; something about what he said was familiar.

"I mean, I thought it was funny at first, but..." Craig shook his head sadly. "That girl's dead. It was just a joke, you know? I mean, none of it was real. We just made the whole thing up, I swear!"

Sam nodded. "All right."

As they turned away from Craig to leave the record store, Dean muttered to Sam, "If none of it was real, how the fuck do you explain Mordechai?"

-

Dean was trying so hard not to smirk as he watched Sam wiggle around in his seat, trying not to scratch at his crotch. While his brother was in the shower, he had sprinkled itching powder into Sam's underwear and now he was able to watch the whole thing unfold right in front of him.

If only shortcake was here, too, he sighed mentally.

Sam was in the middle of talking to Julia on the phone, telling her his thoughts about Mordechai being a tulpa when Dean interrupted him, "Dude, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam said avoidantly.

"What's going on?" Julia's voice came from the speaker.

"Nothing," Sam assured her. "So, these tulpas...There was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard that they brought the thing to life out of thin air."

"Okay, well, there are thousands of people on the internet," Julia said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Sam nodded, wincing as he picked at his itchy jeans. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai and then it spreads and goes online where countless people believe in the bastard."

"Wait a second," Dean spoke up. "People believe in Santa Claus so how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Cause you're a bad person," Sam opened his laptop, still squirming, and pulled up a photo of the sigil that brought tulpas to life. He showed it to Dean. "And because of this. That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was."

On the phone, they could hear a thump of a book and then pages being flipped. "Okay, this book says that the sigil has been used to centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people who are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol and thinking about Mordechai...would that be enough to bring a tulpa to life?"

"It would explain why he keeps changing," Dean answered her.

"Right," Sam adjusted his jeans and added, "as the legend changes, people think different things so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit," Dean stated, choking back his laughter as Sam started wiggling more than he had. "So, why don't we get this spirit sigil thing-y off the wall and off the website?"

"I don't think it's that simple," Julia sighed as they heard more pages being turned. "Once a tulpa is created, they take on a life of their own."

"Great," Dean grumped. "So, if he really is a thought form how the fuck are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, that's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us," Sam showed him the video Ed and Harry put up on their website. "Since they posted the footage, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "I've got an idea but we have to find a copy store."

"What are you thinking?" Julia wondered.

"We're gonna give these boys a story and change the legend," Dean told her as Sam forcefully stood up and did a weird walk to relieve himself. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I think I'm allergic to our soap or something."

Dean snickered as Julia spoke up, "What? We use hypoallergenic soap, Sam."

Dean's laughter increased as Sam did a weird lunge in the middle of the motel room. Sam immediately stood up to his full height and glowered at his older brother.

"You did this?!"

Dean couldn't talk, he was laughing so hard.

"You're a fucking jackass!"

Dean continued to laugh, standing up from his chair to dodge the attack coming his way.

As Sam chased Dean around the room, they didn't notice as Julia sighed, "All right, I'm gonna hang up now."

-

After Dean and Sam told Ed and Harry about this new legend that they found—in which Mordechai would be killed with a pistol and wrought-iron bullets—and a little prank Sam pulled on Dean—where he superglued his beer bottle to the palm of his hand—they headed back to the Hell House to kill the tulpa once and for wall.

They entered the house with their firearms drawn and slowly walked their way around, looking for any sign of Mordechai.

Dean winced as he tightened his hand around his gun. "I barely have any skin left on my palm."

Sam snickered. "I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole."

Dean pressed his lips together, irritated, and flashed his light straight into Sam's eyes until he flinched. Once he was satisfied that he got some sort of revenge on his little brother, he continued on through the living room and into the kitchen. "So, do you think old Mordechai's home?"

"I don't know," Sam pointed his gun at the door that led to the basement.

"Me either."

Sam and Dean whipped around at the new voice, pointing their pistols in Ed and Harry's faces.

"Woah, woah!" Ed shouted while Harry lifted his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

Sam raised his gun away from them. "What are you trying to do, get yourselves killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?"

Before either of the irritated brothers could say another word, a crash came from the basement door. They instantly went back on alert, aiming their guns back at the door.

"Oh, shit," Ed muttered from behind them, focusing his camera on the action. "Hey, guys, do you wanna—you wanna open that door for us?"

"Why don't you?" Dean dared him.

None of them even stepped closer to the basement door as Mordechai burst through, growling at them while waving his ax in the air. Dean and Sam immediately took their shots but Mordechai didn't falter. It was only after full rounds that he disappeared but not in the way they wanted him too.

Sam and Dean immediately left the kitchen to check the other rooms on the first floor.

"Wait a minute?" Ed said breathlessly. "He's gone? He's gone."

"Did you get him?" Harry asked him urgently.

"Yeah, they got him."

"No," Harry shook his head. "On camera. Did you get him on camera?"

Ed faltered. "Well, I..."

Harry grabbed the camera from him. "Let me see it, let me see it."

He flipped open the little screen but was pushed to the floor as Mordechai appeared, smashing the camera with his ax. Dean ran back into the room after hearing some loud noises and glared at them.

"Hey, didn't you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?" he barked at them.

"Of course we did," Harry answered, getting to his feet as Sam came back into the room. "But then our server crashed."

Ed nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"So, it didn't take?" Ed and Harry shook their heads at Dean's question. "These guns don't work?"

"No."

"No."

"Great," Dean sighed and turned to his brother. "Sam, any ideas?"

Sam shrugged; no ideas. None whatsoever.

"We're getting out of here," Harry spoke up.

"Yeah," Ed agreed quickly. "Great idea."

They left the kitchen, only to run into Mordechai again. They screamed and ran for the front door but it was locked and they were unable to get out. They turned to see Mordechai and followed them to the front door and was slowly advancing toward them, raising his ax.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

"The power of Christ compels you!" Ed shouted at the tulpa. "The power of Christ compels. THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU."

Any other time, what Ed was saying would make Dean laugh so hard. But, alas, now was not the time for amusement. Sam ran up to the front door and shouted at Mordechai, getting his attention.

"Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!"

While Sam and Mordechai fought and Ed and Harry ran out of harm's way, Dean found some lighter fluid in the kitchen. He quickly sprayed it all over the floor and onto the cupboards before heading into the living room to spray it there, too.

"DEAN!"

Hearing Sam's shout of help, Dean quickly grabbed a bottle of spray paint and pulled his lighter out of his pocket before running toward his brother and Mordechai.

"Hey!" he shouted at the tulpa before lighting his lighter and spraying the paint at the same time, creating a homemade blow torch.

Mordechai let Sam go and disappeared; Dean grabbed Sam and helped him run back into the living room.

"Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him? We improvise."

He showed Sam his lighter and clicked it out before throwing it onto the floor. The old wooden beams lit up immediately and Sam and Dean took off, knocking down the front door and jumping off the porch.

As they ran into the trees, Sam turned to Dean incredulously. "That's your solution?" he pointed at the flaming house. "Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"Well, nobody will go in anymore," Dean shrugged. "I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well, then, we'll just have to come back."

Sam sighed at Dean's nonchalant answer and turned back to the house. "Kind of makes you wonder," he said. "Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."

Dean didn't answer but he thought about what Sam said as he continued to watch the house burn. It did kind of make him wonder but he couldn't really consider that. No matter if a supernatural was real just because someone believed in them, they were still killing them and saving people.

It was the family business, after all.

Julia could feel their eyes on her every now and then. First it would be Dean; his green eyes would look into the rearview mirror and study her pouring over her bible, head bowed. He would look away and then, not even three minutes later, Sam would turn to check on her, his puppy dog eyes peaking over the back of the seat. She would ignore them and continue on reading, her eyes stinging harshly.

She got the call the night before, just after they rescued Sam from the creepy family that hunted humans for sport. It was Taylor, Beth's husband, that called her, telling her that she needed to come home now. They were supposed to be on their way to Chicago for Beth and Levi's birthday in a day's time; now they were going for a different reason.

Levi was dead. The police had found him in his condo in Chicago after he didn't show up to work for two days. She didn't know how her brother died because at that point, she was a mess. Sam had pulled her into his arms while Dean took the phone, getting the details from Taylor. They were on their way to Chicago as soon as they packed up their things.

Julia had been inconsolable for the first half of the eight-hour drive from Hibbing, Minnesota to Chicago. Dean had stayed with her in the backseat, holding her tightly while Sam drove them. Then Julia fell asleep; when she woke up only an hour later, she was alone in the backseat. She cried silently as she pulled her bible out of her backpack and started reading, trying to find strength from whatever passage she turned to.

Now they were just getting out of the early morning traffic on their way to Winnetka, the village that the Petersen-Alexander family lived in which was only sixteen miles away from Chicago. Beth, Taylor, and Lizzie still lived in the house that the siblings grew up in while keeping rooms for Luke, Abby, Levi, and Julia.

"Jules," Dean spoke up gently as he pulled up to the gates that kept strangers and any enemies off the Petersen property. "We're here."

Julia barely looked up, just enough to give Dean a view of her bloodshot eyes. She looked back down, hearing Dean sigh and roll down his window to speak into the speaker in front of the gate.

"Name?" a gruff voice spoke.

"Dean Winchester," Dean stated. "I'm here with Julia and my brother, Sam."

"Codeword?"

Dean cleared his throat and recited the codeword that Taylor gave him the night before. "Peanut butter cup."

As the gate buzzed and slowly opened, Julia wondered if Lizzie picked the codeword. It had been food before, but Lizzie's favorite candy was a Reese's Peanut Butter cup. She probably insisted that it would be the week's passcode. Her niece was a special one, that was for sure.

The head security guard, a man named Mike that had been with them since Julia was a baby, greeted them at the front of the house. He hardly acknowledged Sam and Dean as Julia got out of the car, immediately pulling her into a tight hug.

Julia felt the tell-tale sting in her eyes as she buried her head in Mike's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Jules," Mike said hoarsely; he was just as upset as the siblings, considering they considered Mike and his wife, Judy, their family. "Levi was a good man. One of the best."

Dean felt his heart ache for Julia when he saw his shoulders heave, a sign that she had started crying again. He felt so bad for her on top of his own sadness; he and Levi had been good friends since childhood. Everyone was feeling his loss right now.

Julia pulled back from Mike and wiped her eyes, giving him a tired smile while Sam and Dean started getting their stuff out of the trunk. "How's Judy?"

"She's okay," Mike told her, grabbing her bags from Sam and Dean. "We've missed you around here."

"I've missed you guys too," she assured him. Turning to face the house, she sighed heavily. "Is Abby home yet?"

Mike nodded. "Yep. Maggie got here an hour ago."

"And no Dad?"

"Not yet," he frowned; Dean and Sam copied his expression. "Sorry, Jules."

Julia didn't answer verbally; she reached for his hand and squeezed it before climbing up the steps to the front door. She typed the four-digit code in to unlock the door and opened it when the locks unlocked loudly.

"Auntie Jules!" a squeal erupted from the foyer before Julia was almost knocked over by a small force.

"Lizzie!" Julia plastered a smile on her face for her niece, who probably didn't understand what was going on. All she knew was that Aunt Julia and Aunt Abby had come home earlier than they were meant to. She picked Lizzie up and poked the dimple in her right cheek. "Look at you! You're almost as tall as me!"

Although Lizzie was tall for her five years of age, she wasn't almost as tall as Julia. She was the cutest little girl that Julia had seen, though. She got her dad's face full of freckles and height but everything else was Bethany. The wavy brown hair that all Petersen women inherited, the brown eyes, and the pretty smile.

Lizzie giggled. "Yep!" she exclaimed as her eyes left her aunt and found Dean behind her. "Uncle Dean!"

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted her with a grin, reaching forward to tug on one of her braided pigtails. "Lizzie, you remember Sammy?"

"Hi, Uncle Sammy!" even though Sam and Lizzie had only met three or four times, she was always fond of the tall man. "Your hair is silly!"

Dean chuckled in amusement while Sam smiled. "Hey, Lizzie."

Julia shook her head and hid her laugh. Clearing her throat, she gained her niece's attention once again. "Hey, Lizzie, where's your mom?"

"Upstairs in her room," the bright smile fell from Lizzie's face. "With Aunt Abby."

Julia set Lizzie back down. "I'm gonna go check on her, okay? Why don't you bring Dean and Sam to your dad?"

"Okay!" Lizzie chirped, grabbing Dean's outstretched hand. "Nana Maggie is here, too."

Forcing a smile, Julia waited until Lizzie led Sam and Dean out of the foyer. Mike had already gone to put all of their bags in her room and the guest rooms, so all she had to do was go to Beth and Taylor's room.

She knew as soon as she saw her sisters she would break down again. Levi was a quiet man but he had always watched over them. He was protective and the best big brother Julia could have asked for. The three sisters would feel his loss forever.

Julia wandered around the staircase to the hallway at the back of the foyer. The master bedroom, as well as two guest rooms, and her dad's room were on the main level. The closer she got to the master bedroom, the more she could hear gentle sniffling. She gently knocked on the door before opening.

Beth and Abby were laying together on the king-sized bed, their eyes red and faces puffy. They looked up when Julia entered the room and, when she broke into sobs and ran to the bed, they started crying again.

Julia buried her head in Beth's shoulder, inhaling her rose and vanilla scent. She already felt better in her sisters' arms but she'd be perfect if Levi was still there, too.

-

-

It was a somber night in the Petersen-Alexander house with all three sisters not coming out of the master bedroom since Julia arrived. Sam and Dean had greeted Taylor and Maggie fondly, knowing both of them quite well, and the four of them made sure that Lizzie was entertained and the sisters were checked on every hour.

In the morning, the news had centered around Levi's death. As one of the most eligible bachelors in Chicago, it was a big deal to hear that Levi Petersen had passed away. Taylor had to turn the channel when Maggie burst into tears over her cup of coffee from the rumors that were going around about her nephew.

Julia was the first of the sisters to emerge. At eight, she was freshly showered and dressed in lounge shorts and a PSC t-shirt. She and Taylor greeted each other fondly and then she and Maggie had an emotional reunion.

Maggie was one of Julia's heroes. Her aunt was a spitting image of Naomi, with the wavy brown hair and dimple, but that wasn't the reason why Julia looked up to her. When Naomi first got sick when Julia was ten, Maggie took over as the CEO of Petersen Sports Co.. She was thirty-two years old and previously the head of sales, much like Levi was. She thrived in her new role and kept the company successful while making sure her sister was taken care of while Luke was out hunting every week. And when Naomi died, Maggie was the one to take care of Julia while grieving her sister and still taking care of the family business. Even if Maggie didn't fight or hunt, she was a badass in her own way. She stepped up when she needed to, was a faithful woman, and she loved her family fiercely. Julia hoped to be half of the woman Maggie was as she aged.

"Julia," Maggie sighed into her hair as they hugged tearfully. "I've been worried about you."

Julia pulled away from the hug and wiped her tears away, giving her a confused look. "Why?"

"Well, you're hunting," Maggie pointed out the obvious. "Without your sister, might I add."

"Sam and Dean are great, Aunt Maggie."

"I know they are," Maggie nodded, sending Sam and Dean a warm smile where they sat on one of the couches in the large living room. "I just worry about you kids."

"I know you do," Julia squeezed Maggie's hand. "but I'll be okay. I promise."

Maggie smiled and kissed the top of Julia's head before going to join Lizzie by the coffee table to color from a princess coloring book.

"So," Julia took a deep breathed and smiled at Sam, Dean, and Taylor. "Who wants blueberry pancakes for breakfast?"

"I do!" Lizzie exclaimed excitedly. "You always make them the best!"

"Hey, I heard that, you rugrat!" Beth entered the living room, giving her daughter a mischievous smile. Abby walked in right behind her, both of them showered and freshly dressed.

While Abby greeted Sam and Dean, Beth picked Lizzie up and kissed her cheek, making her giggle, "Sorry, Momma."

"How about I teach your mom how to make them like Nana Naomi taught me?" Julia asked Lizzie. "Extra blueberries?"

Lizzie nodded jerkily. "Extra blueberries."

Beth shook her head in amusement and set down Lizzie before walking over to Sam and Dean.

"Hey, guys," she pulled Dean into a hug, who returned it easily. The Petersen family were huggers and he was comfortable enough with them to return the affection. "How are you?"

"Hanging in there," Dean smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry, Beth."

Beth's dimple popped out as she frowned but gave him a grateful look. "Thanks, Dean," she turned to Sam, wrapping her arms around him. "Sam, you need a haircut."

Sam pressed his lips together while Dean laughed. "Lizzie said that too."

"Yeah," Sam rolled his eyes as Beth started laughing with his brother. "Laugh it up, guys. Real funny."

Dean and Beth continued to laugh until Julia called over for her sister. "Beth, come on!"

Beth sobered up and grinned at the men she considered her brothers. "I better go before she gets all bossy on me."

Dean looked over Beth's head to where Julia stood with Lizzie on her hip, both of them looking over the oldest sister expectantly. She looked good with a kid on her hip, he realized. It made him think of his dream, of Peter, Jonah, and Levi and their life together.

He didn't know that he had a certain glint to his stare as he watched Julia but Beth did. She quickly looked between the two, noticing that Julia was now staring back at him with a small smile and looked to Sam to see if he noticed too.

She raised her eyebrows at him in a silent question; do Julia and Dean have feelings for each other? Sam nodded back at her; they're both oblivious, but yes.

An amused smirk crossed Beth's face as she crossed the living room to her sister and daughter. "All right," she gave in. "Let's go make breakfast, girlies."

Maggie followed Julia, Beth, and Lizzie into the kitchen, leaving Dean, Sam, Abby, and Taylor. Abby waited until the sound of the mixer started before sitting next to Taylor on the couch and bringing up a difficult subject with all three men.

"Did Taylor give you the details about..." she hesitated for a long second, swallowing the lump in her throat. "about Levi?"

"I didn't," Taylor shook his head. "Not all of them, anyway. I figured you'd have a better perspective about the whole thing."

Abby nodded and Dean gave them a curious look. "What are you talking about?"

"Levi's death wasn't—" Taylor shook his head sadly. "It wasn't from natural causes. Someone—or something—murdered him."

"Something?" Sam raised his eyebrows at Taylor, stomach sinking in dread. "You mean you think something supernatural killed him."

"I do."

"I do, too," Abby added. "His condo was locked and the security system was on without any reported break-ins or tripped alarms."

"Have you seen the condo?" Dean asked; Taylor nodded. "Was there anything weird or any sign of a presence?"

"I took pictures of it," Taylor's face paled immensely as he remembered the crime scene. "It—it was bad. I had to identify the body and, well, Levi put up a fight."

Abby sniffed as tears filled her eyes; Sam and Dean gave her sympathetic looks while Taylor wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders.

"Listen, I looked more into it," she pulled herself together. "There was another death a week or so ago and this morning. Same thing as Levi; locked apartment, no tripped alarms."

"This morning?" Sam asked in shock.

Abby nodded. "Guys, I think this is something," she inhaled deeply. "and I would do this myself but I-I just can't."

"We'll take care of it," Dean assured her quickly; he knew how important this way. This was Levi and he wasn't about to let his friend's little sister look into his murder. "We'll find what did this to Levi."

Abby wiped her eyes and sniffed noisily, taking the tissue Taylor offered her. Dean hadn't seen her cry since Naomi died; Abby was a tough one and didn't wear her heart on her sleeve like her sisters.

"Thank you," she managed to smile at them before standing up. "I'm gonna go see how they're doing in there."

As she left the room, Sam and Dean exchanged serious looks. They had to find out what exactly happened to Levi. They owed it to their friend and his grieving family.

After a delicious breakfast of blueberry pancakes, eggs, sausage—because Lizzie was weird and she didn't like bacon—and bacon, the arrangements for Levi's memorial began. While Maggie was on the phone with the funeral home where Naomi had her memorial—the family knew the home's director, who made sure their family was salted before being cremated—Taylor, Sam, and Dean retreated into the former's study, where they went over the photos of the crime scene in Levi's apartment while Julia, Abby, Beth, and Lizzie went through pictures of Levi to display at the memorial.

There were around twenty photo books to go through since the Petersen family were big on pictures. There were three whole photo albums just on Levi himself, from infancy to adulthood, while there were five books or so of the siblings all together and even more for special events and holidays.

It was heart breaking to go through the books, looking at Levi's smiling face but there was also something calming about it for Julia. Seeing Levi's bright smile in the pictures made her miss him so much but she knew he was happy up in Heaven with their mom. He had been a momma's boy through and through and he was destroyed when Naomi died. Julia would see her big brother again; she was sure of it.

"Look at this one," Beth smiled sadly down at the picture in her hands. She showed Abby and Julia, who were sitting side-by-side across the kitchen table. "Do you remember this?"

"Oh, my God, was that the Easter?" Abby reached for the photo and grinned widely when her question was answered. "It is. God, that was the funniest thing that ever happened to me."

"Yeah, funniest for you, most embarrassing for me," Julia grumbled as she took the picture from her sister; she couldn't help but smile at it anyway. "I tripped and fell at the Easter egg hunt, right in front of the boy I liked."

The picture was from when Julia was ten years old, Abby was thirteen, and Beth and Levi were seventeen. It was Easter and they were all dressed up in their best spring outfits. Right before the picture had been taken by Naomi, there was an Easter egg hunt that Julia participated in while her family watched on. She ended up tripping in the church parking lot in front of Simon Johnson, the boy she liked from her school. Her knees were still bloody and her face was tear-stained in the picture where she was smiling forcefully in front of Levi.

Beth and Abby snickered and Julia tried to glare at them but she couldn't keep it up. "All right, fine," she admitted. "It's kind of funny now."

"It was funny then!" Abby exclaimed before turning to Lizzie who sat next to her mother. "Auntie Jules is clumsy, isn't she?"

Lizzie nodded, her eyes eagerly soaking in the picture as Julia handed it back to Beth. "I like that picture."

"Me too," Beth smiled fondly. "It's going in the sibling pile."

Julia sighed; why must her sister torture her. "Fine."

She grabbed a photo album from the middle of the table and opened, smiling when she realized that it was Levi's teen years. It was full of awkward but sweet pictures. There were some of him with the youth group they all participated in; some from school events like prom and soccer games; there were a lot with Beth, especially when they graduated; and there was even one with Dean by his side, both of them looking at the camera with unamused looks. She saved that one, intending to give it to Dean later.

It was nice to see the pictures and remember times that she may not have on her own. She was seven years younger than Levi and Beth, which meant that some of her memories of them were different with a child's point of view. When she was younger and Levi went to prom with his date, she thought that he needed to hire a stylist. Now, as she looked at the picture, she knew that he dressed as best as he could, considering it was the nineties.

They went through the rest of the photo albums, pulling the pictures they wanted to frame for the memorial. They had to take a few breaks for the sisters to shed some tears. The worst part for them was when they had to decide which picture they needed to blow up for the large frame that would be in front of the church. It hurt them so much to know that the picture was the last representation of their brother.

Lizzie, bless her heart, was a Godsend. Taylor had explained what happened to her Uncle Levi the night before and she was sad but she was smart, too. She understood that her mom and aunts were grieving so she took it upon herself to cheer them up. To distract them, she'd the song that Beth sang to her while tucking her into bed every night.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." It made all of them smile.

Lizzie's favorite thing, though, was something she had in common with her Aunt Julia. She was a big fan of corny jokes and it was something so simple that had the sisters crying in laughter.

"What do you call a cow with no legs?" she'd say so innocently. "Ground beef!"

Normally, Beth and Abby would snicker politely but when Julia really got going—and she laughed hard at stupid jokes like that—they couldn't contain themselves. And then, Lizzie would join in, looking very happy that she made her mom and aunts laugh.

It was nice to laugh instead of cry. It felt right; Levi never could bear to see his little sisters cry.

-

Dean climbed out of the Impala outside of the apartment building of a woman named Meredith, the latest victim that fit the pattern of Levi's death. They had spent the morning and most of the afternoon pouring over the crime scene photos of Levi's condo and more details about Meredith's death. When they found the woman's address, the brothers decided to go check out the apartment for themselves.

"All right, Dean," Sam got out of the passenger seat, allowing Dean to lock up. "This is the place."

Dean nodded and tugged at the jumpsuit Sam insisted he wear so they could pass as workers for the company that provided the security in Meredith's apartment. "You know, I gotta say that Dad and me did just find without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork."

Sam gave him his famous bitch face, making Dean chuckle.

"Hey, what was that play you were in?" he asked Sam. "What was it—Our Town," he nodded, grinning when he recalled how adorable Sam looked a the main tree. "Yeah, you were good. It was cute."

Sam sighed in annoyance. "Look, you wanna pull this off or not?"

"I'm just saying," Dean shrugged as they got closer to the building's entrance. "these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

"Whose?"

"Our," Dean answered Sam's skeptical tone with an obvious one. "You think credit card fraud is easy?"

"Just shut up," Sam scoffed, holding back his laugh as he opened the door for his brother.

They spoke to the landlady, Maria, about who they were and why there were there and she led them up to Meredith's apartment.

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam thanked Maria as she let them into the apartment.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so," she trailed off, shrugging as she and Sam moved further into the apartment. Dean closed the door behind them, his eyes looking around the place curiously.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the gruesome photos that Taylor took of Levi's apartment. It was messy, obviously from when Levi struck up a fight, and it was bloody. Meredith's apartment was bloody, too. The white carpet was absolutely destroyed from the blood that was soaked up in it.

"You guys said you were with the alarm company?" Maria asked them.

"That's right," Dean confirmed.

"Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man."

Dean and Sam exchanged a taken aback look.

"Well, that's why we're here," Dean assured her. "To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again."

As Dean started to look around the living room, Sam asked Maria, "Now, ma'am, you found the body?"

"Yeah."

"Right after it happened?"

"No, just this morning," Maria sighed sadly. "Meredith's work called—she hadn't shown up in a few days. I knocked on the door and that was when I noticed the smell."

Dean nodded and studied the windows, looking for any disturbances. "Any windows open? Any sign of a break-in?"

"No, the windows were locked, the front door bolted," Maria told him. "The chain was on the door and we had to cut it just to get in."

Dean turned back to her. "And the alarm was still on?"

Maria nodded. "Like I said, bang-up job your company's doing."

Dean hummed, his eyes searching the area of the room where it faded into the kitchen. "You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of a struggle?"

"Everything was in perfect condition," Maria's eyes filled with tears. "Except—except Meredith."

"And what condition was Meredith in?" Sam wondered, remembering the police report on Levi.

"Meredith was all over, in pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of whack-job," Maria shook her head in disgust. "But I tell you, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said it was a wild animal that did it."

Dean pressed his lips together and bowed his head; the report had said the same thing about Levi's body. Not about the wild animal, but that he was in pieces. When he read that part of the report, he had to take a minute to pull himself together. He couldn't imagine Levi—who was the closest to a best friend that Dean had—like that.

Sam, seeing the distant look in Dean's eyes, turned to Maria. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time to give this place a once-over."

"Oh, well, go right ahead," Maria agreed. "Knock yourself out."

As soon as Maria left the apartment and the door was shut firmly behind her, Dean pulled the EMF meter out of the tool box he brought. "So, a killer walked in and out of the apartment—No weapons, no prints, nothing."

The EMF meter whirled to life as Sam sighed. "Just like Levi's place," he stated. "So, you talked to the cops, right?"

Dean nodded. "Nothing we don't already know," he told his brother. "but the deputy I talked to told me something and it matched right up to Levi's case."

Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Hmm?"

"Meredith's heart was missing."

"Just like Levi's?"

"Just like Levi's," Dean confirmed as he started waving the EMF meter around the room.

"So, what do you think we're dealing with?" Sam wondered he finished his own snooping and met back up with Dean in the middle of the room.

"Well, Maria said that it looked like an animal attacked Meredith," Dean reminded him. "Maybe it was a werewolf?"

"No," Sam shook his head. "No, the lunar cycle's not right. Plus, if it was a creature, it would've left some kind of trace."

Dean nodded in agreement, catching some of Meredith's blood out of the corner of his eye. He looked down at the blood splatter fully, eyebrows furrowing when he saw that the drops were in some kind of pattern.

"See if you can find any masking tape around," he said to Sam.

Sam went searching throughout the apartment and it didn't take long until he found some electrical tape in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Dean got to his knees and started taping the stains together, like a gruesome connect-the-dots challenge.

The tape made out a symbol that Dean had never seen before. There was a circle in the middle with two lines going off either side of it and curving up on one side and down on the other.

Sam studied the symbol with furrowed brows. "Have you ever seen that symbol before?"

Dean shook his head. "Never."

"Me either."

-

After talking to the bartender at the bar that Amanda worked at, Dean walked back to the table where Sam was waiting for him, pages deep into their dad's journal. He sat on the stool across from his brother and tapped the surface of the table, almost impatiently.

Sam looked up from the journal and Dean sighed, "I talked to the bartender."

"And did you get anything besides her number?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "No, and I didn't ask for it, either."

"Really?" Dean wanted to punch the bewildered look off of Sam's face. "Why?"

"Dude, one of our friends—who was pretty much family—just died," Dean avoided his brother's eyes; truth was, it didn't feel right drinking and flirting with attractive women while Julia was at her house mourning her older brother.

"Hmm," Sam hummed and Dean looked over at him with narrowed eyes; Sam quickly moved on, "so, what did you find out, then?"

"Meredith worked here; she waited tables," Dean told him something they both already knew. "Everybody here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so..."

"Huh..."

"Yep," Dean clicked his tongue. "So, did you find anything out about that symbol?"

"Nope, nothing," Sam shook his head. "It wasn't in Dad's journals or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Okay..." Dean tapped his fingers on the table again as he tried to think of something that would help. "Well, what about the first victim? The one before Levi?"

"Right, yeah," Sam pulled a newspaper clipping out of his jacket pocket, handing it to Dean. "His name was Ben Swardstrom. Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal as Levi and Meredith—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"Was there any connection between the three of them?" Dean asked as he skimmed the article.

"Not that I can tell," Sam sighed. "I mean, not yet, at least. Levi worked for PSC, Ben was a banker, and Meredith was a waitress. None of them met or knew anyone in common."

Dean handed the newspaper clipping back to Sam. "So, we have nothing."

When he didn't get an answer from his brother, he looked over at him. Sam was looking across the bar and, when Dean followed his gaze, he saw that there was a tall woman with short blonde hair seated at a table with a few other people.

"Sam?" he looked back to his brother. "Hello?"

Sam quickly stood up and left the table, heading across the bar to the blonde woman. Dean quickly followed him, watching, bewildered, as Sam hugged the woman fondly.

"Sam," the woman pulled away from the hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I'm just in town visiting friends," Sam answered her with a half-lie.

The woman looked around Sam, her eyes sliding past Dean without a pause. "Where are they?"

Sam stiffened for a second before he spoke. "Well, they're not here right now. But, what about you, Meg? I thought you were going to California?"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Is that how Sam knew this chick? He met her while he was trying to hitchhike his way to California to find their dad?

"Oh, I did," Meg—that was what Sam called her—told him. "I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar."

"Who?" Sam looked confused.

Dean knew who she was talking about, though. Julia was a big fan of One Tree Hill and watched it every week when a new episode premiered. Chad Michael Murray played one of the main characters that Julia wasn't a fan of because he cheated on Brooke with Peyton and it was a whole thing. He didn't even know he knew exactly what she passionately rambled about until this moment; did this mean he was a fan of One Tree Hill?

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Meg grinned up at Sam. "Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while."

Having enough of being left out of the conversation, Dean cleared his throat to get their attention. He was promptly ignored.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked her in surprise.

"No, Andover, Massachusetts," Meg told him. "God, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam smiled. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong."

From the looks Dean saw coming from Meg to Sam, it looked like those two had a connection. He grinned, amused like he always was when Sam met someone he was interested in, and cleared his throat again.

Meg immediately turned to glare at him. "Dude, cover your mouth."

Sam realized that Dean was there. "Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg," he apologized to the blonde. "This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean."

Meg gave him a surprised look. "This is Dean?"

Sam nodded while Dean smiled charmingly. "So, you've heard of me?"

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of you," Meg said; Dean was taken aback by the hostility in her voice. "It's nice, the way you treat your brother like luggage."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows; maybe her head her wrong. "Sorry?"

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do?" Meg scolded him like she had any right to. "Stop dragging him over God's green earth."

"Meg, it's all right," Sam intervened; Dean gave him a surprised look. Is that what Sam really thought about him?

"Okay, this is awkward," Dean mumbled, wishing Julia was there to break the ice. "I'm gonna go get a drink now."

Dean only got through half a beer when Sam all but dragged him out of the bar. Dean immediately started questioning him, wondering exactly had happened earlier.

"Who the fuck was she?" he asked as they walked through the parking lot.

"I don't really now," Sam admitted. "I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird."

Dean didn't pay much attention to Sam's concerns. "And what was she saying, huh? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitching about me to some chick?"

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," Sam sighed. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana...but that's not important, just listen—"

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" Dean interrupted him worriedly. "I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

"No, of course not," Sam assured him. "Now, would you listen?"

"What?" Dean stopped walking once they crossed the street; Sam did the same and faced him.

"I think there's something strange going on here, Dean," Sam stated. "Like, our kind of strange. Maybe even a lead."

Dean blinked at him. "Why do you say that?"

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road and now I run into her in some random bar in Chicago?" Sam pointed out. "I mean, the same bar where a waitress was killed and the same time Levi was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Dean didn't know what to think. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe it couldn't be a coincidence but even if it was, they could still check Meg out to see if she did anything suspicious.

"Okay, so you follow her," Dean suggested. "I'm gonna go back to the house and look through their library. See if they have anything on that symbol."

"Okay," Sam nodded. "and check to see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts."

Dean agreed and the brothers split up.

-

-

Julia wandered through the house, looking for Dean. She had heard the Impala roll up to the house around ten but she hadn't seen him at all in the hours since. Granted, it was midnight and pretty much everyone else was asleep, or trying to fall asleep, but Dean was a night owl. He usually stayed up until the infomercials came on and even then, he'd sit and watch some of them that he thought were interesting—he was especially interested in the knives that claimed to cut through anything, which Julia thought was kind of adorable.

She entered the small library that was connected to the study and was surprised to see Dean at the large table in the middle of the room, flipping through some pages in one of her dad's old hunting journals.

"Hey," she greeted him as she walked over and sat in the seat next to him.

"Hey," he gave her a small and concerned smile. "How are you?"

"I'm managing," Julia tried to conjure a full smile but she didn't have it in her. "What are you doing?"

Dean hesitated for a couple of seconds and Julia could tell that he was seriously thinking about something.

Finally, when he spoke, his voice was careful. "I'm gonna tell you something and it's gonna be hard to take," he said cautiously; Julia stiffened nervously. "Abby and Taylor thought that something was off about Levi's death so Sam and I are looking into it."

Julia swallowed harshly as she took in the new information, her eyes stinging. She let herself shed a few tears before forcefully pulling herself together. If something that they hunted killed Levi, then she owed it to him to help find out what—or who—it was.

"What do you have so far?"

"Julia—"

"I'm not saying that I want to go hunt the thing," Julia cut him off and grabbed his hand; he was the one to give her a comforting squeeze this time and it almost made her cry again. "I just—I want to help if I can. I need to help, Dean."

"Okay," Dean's green eyes stared sadly into her hazel ones. "Okay, there was another victim this morning so Sam and I went to check it out. The apartment was locked, the alarm wasn't tripped, and there was no sign of forced entry. We found something, though."

He took his phone and pulled up the picture he had taken of the symbol. Once he handed her the phone, Julia studied it for a minute or so before her eyes lit up in recognition.

"I know what that is," she declared, standing up to head to one of the large bookshelves.

Dean followed her with his eyes. "You do?"

Julia nodded, finding the book she was looking and pulling it from the shelf. "Yeah," she confirmed as she walked back over to him. "It took me a second to place it, but yeah, I know it," she flipped through the book. "My dad...he told me about this one time."

"Okay, so what is it?"

"It's Zoroastrian," Julia informed him. "It's old, like two thousand years before Jesus was born. It's a sigil for Daeva."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What's a Daeva?"

Julia skimmed the information on the page she stopped at, the familiar symbol inked into the top. "It translates to 'demon of darkness'," she read. "The Zoroastrian demons are savage and animalistic."

Dean looked at one of the drawing of the demon. "Like a demonic pitbull?"

"Exactly," Julia nodded at him and then looked back to the book. "This says that the Daevas have to be summoned or conjured."

"So, someone's controlling it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah and they look terrifying," Julia's voice wavered as her eyes started to sting again. "If Levi...I mean, who would want to kill him? Why would someone do this to him?"

Dean couldn't stand to see Julia so upset and not comfort her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her into his chest. Her body shook with sobs but Dean held on tight, determined to support her just like she always supported him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, whispering comforting words.

It wasn't until Julia fell asleep in his arms that Dean let his own tears fall.

-

Levi's memorial was scheduled for the next day, his and Beth's birthday. Beth insisted that it was done that day so she could give him one last birthday party. The house was quiet in the morning as everyone gathered in the foyer, dressed in black, to pray before they left the church. Dean didn't pray—he didn't really at all—but for Levi, he did. He held onto Julia's and Sam's hands and prayed to whoever or whatever was out there, hoping that the Petersen family would find peace with the loss of Levi and that his friend was up in Heaven like he told Dean he would be going after he died during one of the conversations in high school about faith, Christianity, and God.

The church was crowded when they arrived and the family was swept up in condolences from PSC employees, family friends, school friends, and church members. They were all very kind but, like any church, there were a couple of people who just seemed like snobs to Dean.

The memorial itself was beautiful; a large picture of Levi was at the front of the church next to the podium where the pastor spoke and there were more pictures in white frames around the church that detailed Levi's life with friends and family. Dean sat in the front row with the Petersen family on one side of Julia—with Abby on the other side of her—holding her hand and letting her squeeze it as tightly as she wanted.

There were eulogies and kind words spoken about Levi. Beth's speech was by far the most moving and it had Julia quietly sobbing into Dean's shoulder, his own tears falling down his cheeks as he held onto her. The pastor's message was moving, too, and for a second, it made Dean appreciate the faith that Julia, Levi, and the rest of the Petersen family had.

When the service was over, completed with a rendition of Amazing Grace from the church's choir, they moved into the banquet hall part of the building to enjoy a meal in remembrance of Levi. It was a potluck; made up of foods brought in by church members and Levi's friends.

It was after Dean finished eating that Sam pulled him aside to tell him about his night of watching Meg. It didn't really shock him to find out that Sam was right about seeing Meg was too much of a coincidence. It was her that summoned the Daeva and it was her that killed Levi.

"That's not all," Sam said as Dean's blood boiled. "She was communicating with someone."

"Someone?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "With who, the Daeva?"

"No, you told me those things were savages," Sam shook his head. "No, this was someone different. "Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse."

Dean closed his eyes in realization; he had looked up some more information on the other victims and he had completely forgotten to tell Sam what he found.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. "I looked into the records of the other victims. We missed something."

"What?"

"The first victim, the old man, he spent his whole life in Chicago but he wasn't born here," Dean informed his brother. "He was born in Lawrence, Kansas."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"Mmhm," Dean nodded. "and Meredith, it turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from?"

"Lawrence, Kansas," Sam breathed. "Shit."

Dean hummed. "Yeah."

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom," Sam sighed. "That's where everything started. You think that Meg's tied up with the demon?"

"I think it's a definite possibility."

Sam frowned. "I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? Why was Levi targeted? How do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Well, we're from Lawrence," Dean pointed out. "and Levi was practically family."

"And the Daeva?"

"Beats me," Dean shrugged. "but I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

"No, we can't," Sam shook his head immediately. "We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showing up to meet her."

"Fine, we'll go tonight," Dean agreed. "In the meantime, we need to support Jules."

Sam nodded and clapped Dean's shoulder. "Yeah," he stated. "We do."

-

The hallway to the motel room Sam got for them seemed much longer after they were thrown around by Meg and her little Daeva friends. Sam trashed the black altar she was using to control the demonic pit bulls but not before they got a little slashes in; Sam's right cheek had three claw marks scratched into it and, compared to him, Dean was let off easily.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked his brother about the duffle bag full of weapons he was carrying as he pulled the room key out of his jacket.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again," Sam said, adjusting the bag's strap on his shoulder. "Better safe than sorry."

Dean shrugged and unlocked the door; he walked into the room but stopped just beyond the threshold when he saw two tall but dark figures standing near the window.

"Hey!" Dean barked at them, reaching for his gun.

The two men turned around as Sam reached for the lights, allowing him and Dean to see them clearly. The brothers recognized them immediately; Dean felt hope swell in his chest.

"Luke?" his eyes flicked between the blonde man and the brunette man. "Dad?"

John smiled warmly at his sons, his dimples making an appearance. "Hey, boys."

Dean didn't care if he usually didn't do chick-flick moments. He hadn't seen his dad in almost nine months and he thought he was dead for half that time. He walked forward at the same time as John, both of them pulling each other into a warm but strong hug.

Dean inhaled the usual scent that his dad gave off, peppermint and leather, and committed it to his memory for the thousandth time. The hug ended then, as Sam and John greeted each other, and he walked over to Luke to shake his hand—Luke was definitely not as touchy-feely as his children were.

"Luke," he greeted Julia's father; Luke's grip was as firm as it usually was but there was a sadness in his blue eyes that wasn't always there. "I'm really sorry about Levi."

"Thanks, Dean," Luke nodded, his gruff voice wavering only a little. "How are my girls?"

"Managing," Dean told him. "but they need you."

Luke pressed his lips together but didn't say anything; he wasn't positive, but Dean took that to mean that Luke wasn't visiting his grieving daughters while he was in town. It was discouraging and he grew irritated enough to turn away from the older man.

Dean had never really loved Luke—despite the fact that he was his dad's best friend—but he never disliked him, either. Now, though, his respect for the man had plummeted. His son had died and he wasn't at the memorial and he wasn't going to show up for his daughters, either. If Dean knew Naomi—and he did, she was the closest thing he ever had to a mother—she'd be rolling over in her grave right now at her husband's behavior.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean focused on what was happening at the moment instead of letting his anger at Luke get the better of him. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," John nodded with a small smile. "We thought it might've been."

"Were you there?"

"We got there just in time to see the girl fall from the building," Luke told him and Sam. "She was the one who killed Levi, right?"

Sam and Dean nodded in unison. "Yes, sir."

Luke inhaled deeply, his eyes flicking to meet John's. "Good. That's—that's good."

Well, as least he seemed grateful that his son's murderer was dead, Dean thought to himself.

"Well, the trap doesn't surprise me," John kept the conversation going, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, as well. "It's tried to stop me before."

Sam looked at him in surprise. "The demon has?"

John nodded. "It knows we're close," he told his sons. "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to Hell—actually kill it."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows; from what Julia told him and what he already knew, he didn't think demons could actually be killed. "How?"

John and Luke shared smiles. "We're working on that."

"Let us come with you," Sam insisted immediately. "We'll help."

"No, Sam," John bowed his head as he denied is youngest son. "Not yet. Listen, try to understand, this demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," Sam tried to talk sense into his father.

"Of course, I do. I'm your father," John shook his head and then paused, his eyes softening. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

Sam's lips pursed as he started to tear up. "Yes, sir."

John sniffed. "It's good to see you again," he said thickly. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam agreed; the two hugged, tightly holding onto each other as they fought their emotions.

To matter the circumstances, Dean was glad this was happening. It'd been four years since that nasty fight when Sam took off for Stanford; it had been one of the worst nights of his life; Sam was gone, John was an angry mess, and Dean's favorite person in the world had left him. Things were looking up now, though. Sam was by his side—until they found the demon, at least—Julia was hunting with them, and his dad was okay.

John and Sam finished their hug and John was looking at Dean tearfully when he was forcefully thrown back against the wall with some invisible force. Sam went down next, falling hard on his side when the Daeva attacked him, and then it was Luke who was on the floor.

"No!" Dean shouted before he was soaring through the air, too.

There was a lot of screaming from John and Luke as the Daeva seemed to focus on them but Dean couldn't focus on that them with all of his attention as he tried to get away from the Daeva knocking him around. Frankly, the grunts of pain Sam was letting out concerned him more but he couldn't shake the Daeva on his tail.

"Shut your eyes!" he heard Sam shout just after the Daeva swiped its claws down his forehead. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

Dean covered his eyes as Sam lit a flare; flooding the room with bright light and smoke. The Daeva attacking him disappeared and so did the ones on John and Luke. He slowly got to his feet as he coughed heavily and tried to make his way to John.

"Dad?"

"Over here!" John called back to him.

Dean followed his voice and found his dad where he was tossed in the kitchen. He ducked under John's shoulder and helped him up while Sam got Luke to his feet. The four of them piled out of the bright and smoky room and tried to get out of the motel as fast as they could.

"All right, come on," Sam said hurriedly as they approached the Impala; he let Luke lean against the car while he put the duffle bag full of weapons into the backseat. "We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean stopped him, his mind racing. He took in a deep breath as he turned to face John and Luke. "You guys can't come with us."

"What?" Sam looked to him in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"You boys," John argued breathlessly. "You're beat to Hell."

"We'll be all right."

"Dean, we should stick together," Sam protested angrily. "We'll go after those demons—"

"Sam, listen to me!" Dean interrupted him. "We almost got Dad and Luke killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop, they're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to them. I mean, Meg was right, Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's—he's stronger without us around."

Dean saw the look of realization and understanding on his dad's face.

Sam saw it, too. "Dad, no," he put his hands on John's shoulders. "After everything, after all the time we spent looking for you...Please, I gotta be a part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting," John grabbed Sam's wrist. "and we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay? You've gotta let me go."

Sam hesitated for a couple of seconds before he finally nodded and let go of John's shoulders. Luke, who was in much better shape than John was, went to his friend's side and helped him stand on his own.

"He'll be all right," Luke assured Sam and Dean. "I'll take care of him. You take care of my Jujube."

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded; he had hoped that Luke could stay around for Julia, Beth, and Abby but now he saw that it wouldn't be safe. Luke was just as wanted by the Daeva as John was and he couldn't bring it around his children, sister-in-law, and granddaughter. For now, it was best for him to leave.

John smiled at his sons. "Be careful, boys."

Dean and Sam watched as Luke and John limped away, back down the alleyway to John's truck. As the truck started and pulled away, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and urged him toward the Impala.

Dean couldn't sleep.

His eyes were tired and his body was lax but he couldn't get his damn mind to shut off long enough to get his usual four hours. Never before had he had such a hard time falling asleep. Usually, he'd close his eyes and within ten minutes, he'd be dead to the world.

Not that night, though, and it was pissing him off. He could hear Sam snoring in the other bed and the ticking of the clock on the wall by the bathroom but other than that, it was quiet. The noises coming from the room next to them had stopped hours ago, much to his relief.

Maybe that was why he couldn't sleep. Maybe because Julia had taken home a guy from the bar and he had to listen to them fuck through the wall because the television's volume didn't go that high and Sam was already asleep. Maybe it was because the guy wouldn't shut his fucking mouth despite the fact that he heard no such noises from Julia and had left as soon as he was done fucking her.

Maybe it was the fact that he was picturing himself with Julia. He wanted to know whether or not she was as talkative in the bedroom as she was during the day or if she kept those noises to herself, only letting out the softest of moans or gasps of pleasure. He wondered what she liked; did she like it slow and sensual, hard and fast, or both? Was she submissive or dominant? What were her kinks; spanking, blindfold, dirty talk?

Dean wasn't ashamed to say that he wanted to know everything. He had come to terms with his physical attraction to Julia a while ago, just after he had that dream when she was sick. It wasn't really that he accepted it, it was the fact that more and more he started having dreams about her—most of them were sexy dreams but, here and there, there were some that included them being all domesticated with each other—and when he had sex with Cassie, he was kind of wishing he was there with Julia, instead.

And he had no right to be jealous because they were not together and he didn't even think Julia saw him as anything but a big brother, but he was anyway. When she told him at the bar that she was bringing some pretentious blonde guy she had been dancing with back to the motel, he wanted to say something and deny her but he couldn't. Julia wasn't his—she was a single independent woman who could sleep with anyone she wanted.

Dean just wished it was him warming her bed and not some random douchebag.

He heard Sam's steady breathing quicken from the bed beside him. He looked over as his brother began to squirm in his sleep, no doubt having one of his usual nightmares. It wasn't long until Sam woke, sitting up in the bed.

"Dean?" Sam turned to Dean, his eyes wide with fear.

Dean sat up, too, his voice groggy despite his lack of sleep. "Hey," he said soothingly. "What's wrong? It's the middle of the night."

Sam didn't answer as he turned on the light on the nightstand between the beds. He jumped from his bed and went straight to his bag, hurriedly stuffing his clothes back into it.

"We have to go," he told Dean as he set his bag down and made his way toward the door connecting to Julia's room.

Dean rolled out of bed and fixed his brother with a questioning look. "What are you talking about?"

"We have to go right now," Sam repeated, knocking insistently on Julia's door. "Come on, Julia, wake up!"

Bewildered, Dean slowly walked over to his bag and started packing, leaving out a set of clothes to change into. He had no idea what made Sam so upset but it was worrying him. What if it was another one of those freaky visions Sam kept on having?

The connecting door opened behind Sam's fist, revealing a groggy Julia dressed in her regular pajamas. "What the hell is going on?" she rubbed her left eye with her fist and set her gaze on Sam. "Sam?"

"Just get ready to go," he told her firmly. "Now. We're leaving."

"O-Okay..." Julia shot Dean a curious look but he just shrugged and slid into the bathroom to change.

Twenty minutes later they were checked out of their rooms and on the interstate headed north. Sam had explained that he did have another one of his visions. He told Julia and Dean that he saw a man get murdered in his garage by something invisible and he wanted to be there to save him.

Dean didn't really believe that Sam's nightmare was anything but a nightmare—he hoped, anyway—but Julia could feel the distress pouring off of Sam. He really believed that his nightmare was a vision so she believed it was, too.

An hour into the drive, Sam pulled out his phone to get a location on the man. "McReady. Detective McReady," he informed the dispatch number he called, consulting a fake badge that he had stolen. "Badge number 1-5-8. I've got a signal four-eighty in progress and I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven...Yeah, okay, just hurry."

He waited on hold, a tense look on his face.

"Sammy, relax," Dean advised him tiredly. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I mean it," Dean insisted. "Ya know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."

"It felt different, Dean. It was real," Sam sighed, almost in defeat. "Like when I dreamt about our old house and Jessica."

Dean still didn't want to believe that this was a vision. "Yeah, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house and your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, have you ever seen him before?"

"No."

"No, exactly," Dean nodded in satisfaction. "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

"I don't know," Sam's voice took on a tone of annoyance. Dean agreed was Sam was taken off hold. "Yes, I'm here..." he gave Dean a triumphant look as he repeated what dispatch told him. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?"

Julia reached over the seat, handing him a notepad to write the address down on. He took it and scribbled down a house number and street name.

"Got it, thanks," Sam said gratefully before ending the call.

"It checks out?" Julia asked tentatively, leaning her chin on the back of the front seat.

Sam nodded. "Yeah," he confirmed before turning to Dean, who looked a little freaked out. "How far are we?"

"From Saginaw?" Dean shrugged. "A couple of hours."

Sam pressed his lips together worriedly. "Drive faster."

-

They arrived in Saginaw too late. There were already three police cars and an ambulance outside Jim Miller's house. A crowd of neighborhood residents had already gathered outside the house, watching as two coroners wheeled out their neighbor in a black body bag.

Julia, Dean, and Sam joined the crowd, fitting into the back.

"What happened?" Julia asked the older woman standing next to her.

"Suicide," the woman shook her head sadly. "I can't believe it."

Sam came up on the other side of her, giving her a curious look. "Did you know them?"

"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's," she sighed. "He always seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

Dean hummed on the other side of Julia. "Guess not."

"How did—uh, how are they saying it happened?" Sam asked delicately.

"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running."

Julia inhaled shakily and looked over to Dean. What the woman said sounded exactly like what Sam told them happened in his nightmare—or, vision was more appropriate. Dean looked down at her with fear in his eyes so she quickly grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"Do you know about what time they found him?" Sam continued to speak with the woman.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago," the woman informed him. "His poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."

Julia smiled sadly and looked back at the house. A woman—who she presumed was Jim Miller's wife—was being comforted by a man her age and a younger guy, around Sam's age.

The three of the split off from the crowd to head back to the Impala. Julia had let go of Dean's hand when she saw the upset look on Sam's face and immediately went to him, wrapping her arm around his waist to offer some comfort.

"Sam," Dean sighed, noticing how down his brother was. "we got here as fast as we could."

"Not fast enough," Sam disagreed. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

Dean just shook his head, his eyes back on the mourning Miller family. "I don't know."

"So," Julia spoke up; if Sam said that he saw someone—or something—killing Jim Miller and it was invisible, didn't it mean this was their type of case? "what do you think killed him?"

"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean stated, turning back to Julia and Sam. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

Sam shook his head immediately. "I'm telling you, I watched it happen," he insisted. "He was murdered by something, Dean. I watched it trap him in the garage."

"Like what?" Dean said quickly, more than skeptical. "A spirit, a poltergeist—what?"

"I don't know what it was," Sam grew irritated with Dean's attitude. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the fuck is happening, Dean."

"We'll figure it out, Sam," Julia assured him.

Sam nodded at her and then eyed his brother, who was looking at him intensely. "What?"

"Nothing," Dean shrugged. "I'm just—I'm worried about you, man."

"Well, don't look at me like that!"

Dean quickly looked away. "I'm not looking at you like anything," he said innocently; Julia rolled her eyes at the both of them. "Though, I gotta say, you do look like shit."

Sam gave Dean his bitch face. "Nice. Thanks."

"Stop arguing, boys," Julia sighed, unwrapping her arm from Sam's waist to walk to the left side of the Impala. "We can pick this up in the morning so—"

"Since when are you in charge, shortcake?" Dean interrupted her with raised eyebrows.

Julia gave him a deadpan face. "Did you want to do the honors?"

"Yes," Dean nodded firmly and cleared his throat. "We'll pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house. We'll talk to the family."

"Guys, you saw them," Sam stated. "They're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."

A slow smirk spread over Dean's face. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, almost giddily. "but I think I know who they will talk to."

Julia and Sam gave him confused looks, speaking in unison, "Who?"

Dean just winked at them and opened the driver's door, sliding into his seat.

-

"Absolutely not," Julia yelled at Dean, looking down at the costume on the bed. "I am—I can't believe that you—oh, my God, Dean! No!"

"I don't see the big deal," Dean shrugged as he picked up the headpiece that went with her costume. "You'll look hot."

"Nuns are not supposed to be hot," she ripped it away from him with a glare. "and you shouldn't wear that, either!"

Dean looked down at the priest outfit that he had changed into. "Why not?" he looked at her as if it was all perfectly normal. "The family will talk to us if they—"

"It's disrespectful—"

"Like you haven't done disrespectful things," Dean scoffed. "Like last night when you—"

"Dean Jonah Winchester, I will cut off your tongue, I swear—"

"I'd like to see you try, shortcake."

"Ugh, you're so frustrating!"

"Would you guys just shut up?" Sam called as he walked out of the bathroom, changed into his priest outfit with his hair slicked back nicely.

Dean pointed at Julia. "She started it."

Julia gaped at him, amazed by his gall. "I started it? Are you—"

"Hey!" Sam interrupted Julia before she could start the bickering all over again. "Dean, you should have known that Julia wasn't going to wear that. J, you have to dress up as something or no one will talk to you."

"I'm not gonna be a nun," Julia insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. "but, I can be a grief counselor."

Sam sighed and nodded, relieved that she had another plan. "Good, get dressed."

Julia beamed at him and, before she grabbed a change of clothes from her bag, shot Dean a dirty look. Dean just rolled his eyes at her while she stomped into the bathroom to get ready for the wake at the Miller house.

"Churches have grief counselors?" Dean asked Sam, stuffing the nun costume back into its rental bag.

"Some of the bigger ones do," Sam confirmed. "but J was right. This has gotta be a whole new low for us."

"Hey, we want the family to talk to us, right?"

Dean was right; the priests outfits got them into the Miller house without looking suspicious.

"Good afternoon," Dean greeted the man who opened the door and gave the three of them unimpressed looks. "I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and that is Miss Stanley, our newest grief counselor. We were sent over from St. Augustine's. May we come in?"

The man pressed his lips together and nodded, stepping aside so they could enter.

"Thank you," Sam said graciously.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Julia gave the man a sympathetic smile.

"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed—"

"Look," the man interrupted Dean. "you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead."

"Roger," a woman's voice spoke up behind them. "please!"

Roger gave her a semi-apologetic look and nodded at Julia, Dean, and Sam. "Excuse me."

The woman walked over to them as Roger moved away. "I'm sorry about my brother-in-law," she said wearily. "He's...he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"

Dean smiled at the teary-eyed woman. "That would be great."

Mrs. Miller led them through the house and told them to sit in the living room while she got them coffee. Julia and Dean sat on the three-seater couch, leaving room for Mrs. Miller to sit, while Sam sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table.

Mrs. Miller soon came back with four mugs and a pot of steaming coffee. "It was wonderful of you to stop by," she said, handing Sam a steaming mug. "The support of the church means so much right now."

Julia smiled and opened her mouth to reply but Dean beat her to it.

"Of course," he said indulgently. "After all, we are all God's children."

Julia pressed her lips together as Mrs. Miller awkwardly turned away from them to put the coffee pot back in the kitchen. She turned to Dean with a glare, watching as he hurriedly picked up one of the cocktail sausages from the plate on the table.

Sam scoffed and shook his head at his brother.

"What?"

"You should probably tone it down," Julia whispered, a little tensely. "No one speaks like that."

Dean rolled his eyes at her and dropped the toothpick back onto the platter. It was then that Mrs. Miller came back and sat down on the couch next to Julia.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" Julia asked gently.

"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller shook her head, her voice hitching with emotion. "We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy..." she broke down into pain-filled cries. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like this."

Feeling the genuine grief and sadness in Mrs. Miller made Julia's eyes sting. She carefully grabbed the older woman's hand and held it for a second, offering her comfort. "I'm so sorry you had to find him like that."

Mrs. Miller sniffed. "Actually, our son, Max," she gestured into the dining room, where a guy Sam's age was sitting alone in the corner. "he was the one who found him."

"Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?" Sam asked Mrs. Miller.

She gave Sam a grateful look. "Oh, thank you, Father."

Sam smiled and stood up, leaving the living room so he could talk to Max. Dean moved to his brother's previous seat so he could face Mrs. Miller head-on and not have to look over Julia's shoulder.

"Mrs. Miller, you have a lovely home," he complimented her as Julia handed her a tissue. "How long have you lived here?"

Mrs. Miller furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully. "We moved in about five years ago."

Dean nodded. "The only problem with these old houses," he shrugged casually. "I bet you have all kinds of headaches."

"Like what?"

"Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night," he listed for her. "That kind of thing."

"No," Mrs. Miller. "nothing like that. It's been perfect."

"Huh," he hummed. "May I use your restroom?"

"Oh, sure, it's just up the stairs," Mrs. Miller pointed in the direction.

Julia gave Dean a panicked look, as she had never questioned a family member by herself before. He gave her a thumb's up in return when Mrs. Miller wasn't watching, grabbing a cocktail sausage to go.

"So, Mrs. Miller," Julia took over the conversation now that Dean was gone to look for any abnormalities upstairs. "how long were you and Mr. Miller together, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Almost twenty years now," Mrs. Miller dabbed her eyes with the tissue again. "We worked together and we just clicked. We were married in the summer. It was beautiful."

"It sounds like it," Julia agreed. "Michigan summers are the best, aren't they?"

Mrs. Miller nodded.

They continued to speak for a couple of minutes, with Julia prompting Mrs. Miller to answer most of her questions. It was hard sneaking in if Mrs. Miller knew if her husband had any enemies but somehow, Mrs. Miller didn't think she was a freak. She comforted the woman as best as she could.

"I don't know if this will bring you any comfort, but when my mother died, a verse was spoken at her funeral," Julia shared with her; Mrs. Miller smiled weakly. "It's Psalm 73:26. My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. It really helped me through the next couple of days."

"Psalm 73:26?" Mrs. Miller checked, making sure she remember it correctly so she could take a look herself.

Julia nodded, her eyes darting to the side when she saw Sam and Dean walk into the living room again. "I will be praying for you, Mrs. Miller," she promised the woman. "and I hope to see you again."

"You too, Miss Stanley," Mrs. Miller stood up with Julia and gave Sam and Dean grateful handshakes. "Thank you for coming, Fathers."

Dean nodded. "God bless you."

Behind Mrs. Miller's back, Sam and Julia shared exasperated looks.

-

Julia sat at the table back in the motel room, online shopping while finishing up the rest of the salad and fries she had for dinner. Dean and Sam were long done with their eating and now Dean was cleaning their weapons while Sam went through the information surrounding the Miller's house.

Levi and Beth's birthday was only a week away and Julia still hadn't found anything to get Levi. Beth was easy to shop for; she was a typical girl that spoke about her hobbies every time she spoke to someone—just the other day when they had their weekly call, she had mentioned that she'd been baking lately, so Julia got her a couple of cookbooks, a standing mixer, professional baking pans, and a personalized apron. Levi, though, was close-lipped about a lot of the things he enjoyed. He was busy most of the time with PSC as the head of sales but he did make time to work-out, go to church, and visit family.

There was something that Julia remembered about Levi that might lead her to something to get for him. When he was a teenager, she remembered him raving about his science classes. He loved biology and chemistry but his true love was astronomy. He had vacation time coming up—as far as she knew—so maybe a trip to Houston to visit NASA would be nice. That was a great idea and around the same price as Beth's present. She quickly bought the a round-trip ticket from Chicago to Houston and booked the tour of NASA for a day during Levi's vacation.

She popped a couple of fries in her mouth, satisfied; everything was set for the twins' birthday. All she had to do was print out the information for Levi and pick up the presents for Beth.

"What do you have?"

Julia looked up at Dean's question, noticing that he was currently cleaning his beloved saw-off. Something so simple shouldn't have been so attractive.

"A whole lotta nothing," Sam sighed heavily from his spot across the table and stood up to go to the bed they were sharing. "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land?" Julia wondered.

Sam plopped down on the bed. "No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any kind of atrocity on or near the property."

Julia frowned in confusion; then what was the thing that killed Jim Miller?

"Hey, man, I told you," Dean started putting his saw-off back together. "I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent...nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?"

Julia nodded. "Yeah."

"If there was a demon or poltergeist in there somebody would have noticed it," Dean added. "I used the infrared scanner, man, and there was nothing."

Sam sighed heavily. "So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

"I dunno," Dean shrugged. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

A grimace flitted across Sam's face as he reached up to rub his temples. "Yeah, well, maybe it has nothing to with the house," he inhaled deeply, in pain, and Julia gave him a worried look. "Maybe it's just—fuck—maybe it's connected to Jim some other way?"

"Sam," Julia stood up to walk over to him. "are you okay?"

"Ah!" Sam cried out as he winched roughly, moving to cup his head and falling to his knees on the floor beside the bed; while Julia crouched down next to him, Dean got off his bed and rushed over, placing himself on Sam's over side. "My head!"

"Sam?" Dean asked frantically as Sam continued to make anguished noises, unable to answer. "Hey, what's going on? Talk to me."

Sam pulled his hands from his eyes and grabbed one of Julia's arms and one of Dean's to steady himself. Julia inhaled softly as she felt his energy twist—it was almost dark, the way it moved through him, clashing with the brightness of his soul. She grew panicked as he stared at them—even though he wasn't really looking at them but through them.

He was seeing something.

"Sam," Julia tried to gain his attention but he couldn't answer. She placed her free hand on his hand that held her arm. "Sam, come on!"

"Sam!" Dean barked.

Sam blinked quickly, his eyes filling with terror. "It's happening again," he told them, squeezing their arms. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

-

They couldn't save Roger Miller.

They tried to but Roger still thought that they were with the church and he wasn't happy to see them. He went up to his apartment and by the time Sam and Dean climbed the fire escape, Roger's head was chopped off his body with a window.

They were stumped; there was nothing wrong with the house and Dean didn't find anything in Roger's apartment, either. The only thing that connected them—other than the victims being brothers, of course—was that Sam had a vision of both deaths. Figuring that something had attached itself onto the Miller family, they headed back to the Miller house to speak to Max, Jim Miller's son.

"My mom's resting," Max told them as he led them into the living room. "She's pretty wrecked."

"Of course," Dean agreed as he, Julia, and Sam squished themselves into the couch while Max took a chair.

"All these people kept coming with casseroles," Max muttered bitterly. "I finally had to tell them to go away. You know, cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole."

Julia smiled at him, trying to hide how uncomfortable the guy made her feel. The energy he gave off, it made a shiver go down her spine. It was dark but it was also familiar. She just couldn't place it.

"So," she pushed away her uneasiness to speak softly . "How are you holding up, Max?"

"Okay," Max shrugged.

"Your dad and your uncle were close?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah, I guess," Max replied. "I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not lately much?"

"No, it's not that," he shook his head. "It's just...we used to be neighbors when I was a kid and we lived across town in this house and Uncle Roger lived next door so he was over all the time."

"Right," Sam nodded in understanding. "So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?"

Max hesitated for a second and Julia could feel his energy twisting; anxiety, fear, and relief mixed with the darkness. "Fine," he told them. "Why?"

"All good memories?" Dean prodded. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle, maybe?"

Max shook his head nervously. "Why do you—why do you ask?"

Julia's heart dropped at his reaction. He was obviously nervous about Dean's question and the way anxiety and fear seemed to wrap around him so tightly made her think that something bad went on when Max was a kid.

Her eyes stung in realization.

"It's just a question."

"No, there was nothing," Max said after inhaling deeply. "We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good," there was a sad look in Dean's eyes. "Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off."

"Right," Sam nodded at his brother and then smiled at Max as the three of them stood up. "Thanks."

Max gave them one last smile as he led them out of the house. Julia, Sam, and Dean started walking down to the Impala, where she was parked on the street.

"No one's family is totally normal and happy," Dean grumbled. "Did you see when he was talking about his old house?"

"He sounded scared," Sam nodded.

"He felt scared," Julia admitted; they gave her confused looks. "His energy. At first, it was dark but as soon as Sam asked about the old house, it changed. It was almost all anxiety and fear."

"Yeah," Dean sighed as he opened the driver's door. "Max isn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighborhood and find out what life was really like for the Millers."

After Sam hacked into the Millers' records, he found the address of the home they used to live in. It only took twenty minutes to get across town and find the little neighborhood. The houses that Jim and Roger Miller owned were nearly identical, though one was gray and one was mustard-yellow.

Thankfully, they saw that the man who lived across the street was out working in his lawn.

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Julia asked the man after introducing herself, Dean, and Sam.

"Yeah, almost twenty years," the man confirmed. "Why? Are you looking to buy?"

"No, no," Sam shook his head. "Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street."

"Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy named Max," Dean held his hand out by his waist, simulating the height of a child.

The man's face fell. "Yeah, I remember them," he said sadly. "The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about? Is that poor kid okay?"

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that," the man shifted uncomfortably. "I'd heard Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street. He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max—bruises and he broke his arm two times that I know of."

Julia wrinkled her nose sadly. "And this was going on regularly?"

"Practically every day," he nodded; she swallowed down her emotions. "In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven of eight times but it never did any good."

"Now, you said step-mother?" Dean asked.

"I think his real mother died," the man sighed. "Some sort of accident. A car accident, I think. It—are you okay, there?"

Julia and Dean turned to Sam, seeing that his face was scrunched up in pain and he was holding his head again. Dean grabbed Sam to make sure he didn't fall and started making his way back to the car.

"Sorry about that," Julia apologized to the nice man. "Thank you so much for your time."

The man nodded. "No problem."

By the time Julia got back to the Impala, Sam was in the middle of another vision. Once Julia was buckled in, Dean drove off, back in the direction of the motel they were staying at. Halfway there, Sam's vision ended and he informed them that it was Max that was killing his family and his next victim was Mrs. Miller.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked, briefly looking at him.

"Yeah, I saw him."

"How is he doing it, though?" Julia leaned toward the front seat. "I mean, how did he get away with it?"

"I don't know," Sam shook his head. "but it look like telekinesis."

"What, so he's psychic?" Dean asked in disbelief. "He's a spoon bender?"

"I didn't even realize it but this whole time he was there," Sam sighed, frustrated. "He was outside the garage when his dad died, outside the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, the whole time I wasn't connecting to the Millers. I was connecting to Max," he shook his head. "The thing I don't get is why. I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean wrinkled his brow. "The dude's nothing like you."

"Well, we both have psychic abilities, we both..." Sam trailed off.

"Both what?" Dean gave him a pointed look. "Sam, Max is a monster. He's already killed two people and now he's gunning for a third."

"But look what he's been through," Julia pointed out. She didn't think killing people was the right thing—that should have never been an option for Max—but he was abused almost all of his life. He was afraid of his father and uncle and his stepmother did nothing to stop it. The people who were supposed to protect him were the ones hurting him in the first place.

Dean gave her a shocked look through the rearview mirror.

"Look, I don't think what he did was right," Julia defended herself. "but his family abused him. He wants revenge."

"It doesn't sound insane," Sam agreed.

"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" Dean argued.

"Dean—"

"He's no different than anything else we've hunted, all right?" Dean turned down the Miller's street and pulled over in front of their house. "We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max," Sam told his brother.

"Then what?" Dean challenged him. "Hand him over to the cops and say, 'Lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind'?"

"No way," Sam shook his head firmly. "Forget it."

Dean turned off the engine. "Sam..."

"Dean, he's a person. We can talk to him," Sam stated. "Hey, promise you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean paused for a couple of seconds; Julia watched him carefully. "All right, fine," he finally agreed. "but I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

He leaned over Sam's seat and opened the glove compartment, pulling out the gun he hid inside. They all got out of the car and Dean put the gun in his waistband while they walked up to the door.

They didn't wait to be polite and ring the doorbell. Dean busted through the front door and Julia and Sam quickly filed in, all three of them stopping in their tracks when Max and Mrs. Miller turned to look at them.

"Fathers?" Mrs. Miller asked, bewildered. "Miss Stanley?"

Max looked at them with tired and blank eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," Dean said casually while Julia waved at them.

"Max, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam asked politely.

Max's face instantly turned suspicious. "About what?"

"It's—it's private," Sam faltered. "We wouldn't want to bother your mother with it."

"We won't be long, Mrs. Miller," Julia assured the woman sweetly. "I promise."

Mrs. Miller gave Max a nervous look until Max agreed. "Okay."

"Great."

Max walked over to the door, passing Sam and Julia on his way. When Dean opened the door for him, he paused. The door and all the windows snapped shut at once, leaving the house a little darker and a whole lot scarier.

"You're not priests," Max backed away and declared as Dean drew his gun.

The gun flew out of his hands, into Max's. He turned it around and held it on Julia, Sam, and Dean.

"Max, what's happening?" Mrs. Miller cried nervously.

"Shut up!"

"What are you doing?"

Max simply looked at her and she was airborne, crying out when she slammed her head against the kitchen island and landed in a heap on the floor.

"I said shut up!" Max yelled at her, his face turning crimson red.

"Max, calm down!"

"Who are you?" he looked back to Sam.

"We just wanna talk," Sam assured him.

"Yeah, right," Max scoffed and nodded at the gun. "That's why you brought this!"

Julia breathed in shakily as she read Max's energy. It was so much darker than before. There was so much hate and sadness and fear that it was turning him into a monster. Maybe Dean was right...

"That was a mistake, all right," Sam tried to calm his down. "So was lying about who we were...but no more lying, Max, okay? Just please, hear me out."

"About what?"

"I saw you do it," Sam admitted to him. "I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened?"

Max blinked at him, the gun still aimed toward him. "What?"

"I'm having visions, Max," Sam told him. "About you."

Max shook his head. "You're crazy."

"So, what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his left eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look at what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, all right? I think I'm here to help you."

Tears started rolling down Max's red cheeks. "No one can help me."

"Let me try," Sam insisted. "We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, Julia, and Alice out of here—"

"Nuh-uh," Dean interrupted, shaking his head angrily. "No way."

"Sam..." There was no way Julia was going to leave Sam by himself with Max, especially if Dean stayed, too.

The chandelier that hung above Julia and Dean's head started to shake. Julia's eyes immediately went to it, growing wide in fear when she saw that it was about to fall on them.

"Nobody leaves the house!" Max demanded angrily.

"And nobody has to, all right?" Sam quickly placated him. "They'll just...they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, we're not leaving you alone with him," Dean argued.

"Yes, you are," Sam didn't even look at Dean as he responded, his eyes still on Max. "Look, Max, you're in charge here, all right? We all know that. No one's going to do anything you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here, man."

"Sam!"

Max looked at Mrs. Miller before turning back to Sam. "Five minutes," he agreed as the chandelier above Julia and Dean stopped shaking. "Go!"

Julia quickly tapped Dean's arm before rushing into the kitchen to help Mrs. Miller. Dean followed her, taking the brunt of the older woman's body as they got here out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Mrs. Miller directed them into her room, her face soaked with the blood that fell from her cut brow. Dean sat on the bed with her while Julia rummaged around in the master bathroom, looking for a first aid kit. She finally found one in the back of the cupboard behind the sink. It wasn't filled much but it had enough to disinfect the wound and place a bandage on it.

Julia was in the middle of cleaning Mrs. Miller's wound when the door slid open by itself. Max walked through the door, Dean's gun still in his hand, and the door slammed shut behind him. When Dean went to move to defend Mrs. Miller, he was thrown back into the wall behind Julia.

"Max," Mrs. Miller said sadly as Julia scrambled to her feet to stand in front of her when he aimed the gun at her.

"Max, please don't do this," Julia begged him. "We can help you."

Max simply cocked the gun; Julia gulped heavily. Then, she felt a hand grabbed her elbow and forcefully pull her to the side. Dean took her place in front of Mrs. Miller, glaring at Max with hard eyes.

"Stay back," Max ordered him as he dropped his hand and let the gun float in the air. "It's not about you."

Dean shook his head. "You want to kill her, you're gonna have to go through me, first."

"Dean!"

There was no emotion on Max's face. "Okay."

The door burst open and Sam appeared, his face crazed with urgency and panic. "No, don't!" he yelled at Max. "Please, Max, we can help you, all right? But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not going to fix anything."

Max shook, his face deep red as he cried. He stared at Sam for a long time, desperation and misery in his expression. "You're right."

Sam smiled, relieved that Max was going to listen to him, but it quickly fell when the gun swung in the air to face Max.

"NO!"

The gunshot rippled through the air and the bullet pierced Max's forehead, dropping his body to the ground. Julia stared at his body in shock, her eyes flickering to the massive amount of blood and brain matter on the wall behind it.

-

"Max attacked me," Mrs. Miller tearfully told a deputy that had come to get her statement about Max's death. "He threatened me with a gun."

The police officer nodded over to Julia, Dean, and Sam, who were standing near her to give her support and make sure she didn't mess up the cover-up they concocted. "And these three?"

"They're family friends," Mrs. Miller's wet eyes trailed over to them. "I called them as soon as Max arrived because I was scared. They tried to stop him; they fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?"

Mrs. Miller's face crumpled as she started to sob. "I don't know. He showed up with it and..."

"It's all right, Mrs. Miller," the officer tried to comfort her.

"I've lost everyone," she sobbed heavily.

It was clear that the officer didn't know how to comfort a crying woman. He awkwardly turned to Julia, Dean, and Sam, and told them, "We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."

Julia smiled half-heartedly. "Thank you, Officer."

Dean patted Sam's arm while taking Julia's hand to tug them out of the house. "Come on."

As soon as they were walking on the sidewalk down to the Impala parked at the side of the road, Sam started up with his self-deprecation.

"If I'd just said something else," he sighed sadly. "Gotten through to him somehow."

"Don't do that, Sam," Julia took his hand while still holding Dean's with her other. "You did what you could."

"You can't torture yourself," Dean added seriously. "It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."

Sam shook his head. "When I think about how he looked at me, right before...I should have done something."

"Come on, man, you risked your life," Dean let go of Julia's hand and unlocked Baby, opening the driver's door. "I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier."

Sam inhaled deeply as he and Julia walked around to their side of the car. "Well, I'll tell you one thing," he said to Dean. "We're lucky we had Dad."

Dean gave him a surprised, but pleased, look. "Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that."

Sam shrugged. "Well, it could have gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we could have had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay thanks to him."

Dean nodded in agreement. "All things considered."

Julia paced up and down the candy aisle at some gas station that she hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Her sweet tooth was out of control so she wanted to stock up on sweets before they continued on their journey to Pennsylvania. She already had some chocolate bars, goldfish crackers, and a couple of mini pies for Dean in the basket she was carrying around but now she needed fruity candies.

She reached forward, picking out a bag of Air Heads and then hesitated, eyeing the Skittles and Starbursts. After a couple of seconds, she grabbed a bag of each and threw them in the basket with the other snacks. As she moved on to the drink coolers, she grabbed a bag of jerky for Sam.

Sam found her by the Gatorade, searching for her favorite blue flavor.

"Are you almost ready?" he asked as he searched the basket, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw all the sweets. "Dean wants to get going."

"Well, Dean can wait," Julia stated. "I need a drink."

Sam sighed and opened the cooler door, reaching above her head to grab the lighter of the blue Gatorades. "There you go, Glacier Freeze."

"Thanks!"

"You should get some water, too," Sam advised as he grabbed a couple water bottles from the cooler. "You're gonna need it if you're eating all that sugar."

"Sam, hasn't anyone told you never to comment on a girl's eating habits?" Julia pursed her lips at him; Sam sent her an apologetic smile. "Okay, so, did you find a way around that construction?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," they walked through the aisles and to the counter. "We're not going to Pennsylvania anymore."

She smiled at the worker as they put their things on the counter so they could pay. "What? Why not?"

"An old friend of Dean's called. Her name's Cassie," Sam informed her as she slid her card through the machine. "I guess she needs our help."

Julia wrinkled her nose, trying to figure out Cassie was familiar to her. "Wait, Cassie Robinson?"

"I guess so. Why?"

Julia took the plastic bag from the worker. "Thanks so much," she said before she and Sam started walking out of the gas station. "Dean called me, like, two years ago drunk out of his mind and—"

"What?" Sam interrupted her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"That was after you two stopped talking, Sam," she reminded him; he nodded in realization. "Anyway, he was drunk and for some reason he called me."

"About Cassie," Sam assumed.

"Yep," Julia slowed down as they exited the building, her eyes on the Impala where Dean was waiting for them. "Did he say anything about her to you?"

Sam shook his head. "Not much. Just her name and that her father was killed in a car accident."

Julia hummed. When Dean had called her about Cassie, he was upset that she had dumped him. He had given her the ghosts-are-real-and-I-hunt-them speech and she had bolted, breaking up with him and calling him crazy. He had been in love with the girl, too. It was one of the only times that Dean had ever been truly honest with Julia about how he was feeling—though she was pretty sure it was because he was wasted.

Julia never mentioned it again and she didn't even know if Dean remembered calling her. She was just a little apprehensive about them going to see Cassie; she was protective of her boys and she didn't like when anyone hurt them.

"There you are," Dean sighed in aggravation as Julia and Sam slid into their respective seats, shutting their doors in unison. "What'd you need? A stockpile?"

"Well, I guess I can go return the pie I got..."

Dean eagerly turned around, an enthusiastic smile on my face. "Apple?"

"And cherry."

"Ooh, baby, you're so good to me," Dean playfully winked at her as she passed up two of the pies. Her cheeks flushed a dark pink as he turned back around and, when Sam gave her a small smirk, she practically threw his bag of jerky at him.

As Dean pulled out onto the road, a bite of pie already in his mouth, Julia spoke up, "Sam told me about Cassie," Dean paused mid-chew but he eventually he nodded. "Where does she live?"

"Cape Girardeau, Missouri."

Julia nodded and tore open the Almond Joy bar, ripping the almond off the top and throwing it into the garbage bag they kept so the Impala wouldn't get dirty. She stuffed the coconut and milk chocolate in her mouth, enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.

"So, this Cassie..." Sam looked over at his brother with a curious smile. "By old friend, do you mean...?"

"A friend that's not new."

"Wow, thanks for that," Sam rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, Dean."

"Fine," Dean grunted in annoyance. "we went out."

"You mean you dated someone?" Sam seemed surprised. "For more than one night?"

"Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" Dean snipped. "Dad and I were working a job in Athens, Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a couple of weeks."

And fell in love, Julia supplied mentally, and then broke up because she thought you were crazy.

"And...?"

Dean shrugged in avoidance.

"Okay," Julia sighed and rested her chin on the back of their seat. "not to be negative here, because it's really sad that she lost her dad, but it sounds like a normal car wreck. I'm not seeing a connection to what we do."

"Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?" Sam added, both of them looking at the oldest Winchester for answers.

Dean licked his lips, like he was about to say something, but then pressed his mouth shut, thinking better of it. He avoided their eyes by keeping his right on the road, which was unusual for him. Julia was pretty sure that Dean was one of the most distracted drivers she had ever seen in her life but somehow he was still one of the best drivers.

Sam could connect the dots about Dean's awkward behavior. "You told her. You told her the secret," he proclaimed, voice completely shocked but a little angry, too. "Our big family rule number one: we do what we do and we shut up about it."

Dean sighed but Sam wasn't finished.

"For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica and you go out with this chick in Ohio for a couple of weeks and you tell her everything?" he asked in disbelief. When Dean didn't answer, he raised his voice. "Dean!"

"Yeah," Dean finally spoke. "Looks like."

Sam gave his brother a bitch face but Dean pointedly ignored it.

"I know this isn't the best time but...Sam, why did you sound more upset about the fact they were Ohio than anything else?"

Sam gave Julia the bitch face, too.

-

The newspaper that Cassie worked for was squished into a small brick building in downtown Cape Girardeau. It was actually kind of cute, with small clusters of desks put together so that all of the workers were grouped with their own—the reporters with the reporters, the photographers with the photographers, the editors with the editors.

Julia, Sam, and Dean had been pointed in the direction of where Cassie would be by the receptionist. They made their way over to a gathering of three people conversing in the back corner of the office. Two of them were men and the woman had to be Cassie.

Cassie was beautiful with light brown skin and dark curls that seemed to lay perfectly. And, despite losing her father only days before, she looked well put together. It took Julia two weeks to even leave the house after Naomi died, so she knew Cassie had to be a strong woman. Dean wouldn't have fallen for her if she wasn't.

The man on Cassie's left was confronting the other man when the three of them walked over. "Two black people were killed on the same stretch of road in the same way in two weeks."

"Jimmy, you're too close for this. Those guys were friends of yours," the man tried to placate him before turning to Cassie. "Again, Cassie, I'm very sorry for your loss."

The second man turned and walked away and after a few seconds, so did Jimmy. Cassie was left alone but her eyes quickly fell upon Dean who was watching her with a small, if not awkward smile.

He nodded at her when her eyes widened.

"Dean," she sighed in relief, walking toward them. Her eyes were only for Dean, though. She hadn't even noticed Julia or Sam.

"Hey, Cassie."

Sam and Julia exchanged a small but amused smile when Dean and Cassie continued to silently stare at each other for around twenty seconds.

Finally, Dean cleared his throat. "This is my brother, Sam," he nodded at Sam and then at Julia. "and his friend, Julia."

Julia gave Cassie a quick smile in greeting but then it promptly fell. Why had he introduced her like that? First of all, she was Sam's best friend—as in, he was her brother and she was a sister to him. Second of all, she considered Dean to be her friend so did he not consider her as one?

"Sorry about your dad," Dean continued.

"Yeah," Cassie agreed sadly. "Me, too."

A half-hour later, Julia, Sam, and Dean were squished into a small couch with each other at Cassie's house. Cassie had made Julia and Sam some tea, with Dean declining the offer, and then sat on the seat across from them.

"My mother's in pretty bad shape," Cassie told them sadly. "I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself, she's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad."

"Why?" Dean wondered as Julia and Sam sipped at their tea.

"He was scared," Cassie answered. "He was seeing things."

"Like what?"

"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him. "

"A truck," Sam repeated, setting his teacup back on its saucer. "Who was the driver?"

"He didn't talk about a driver, just the truck," Cassie told him. "He said it would appear and disappear. In the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big."

"Now, are you sure that this dent wasn't there before?"

Cassie shook her head. "He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing," she stated. "It was raining that night, there was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad's car leading right..." her voice broke; Julia could feel her sadness and grief. "leading right to the edge, where he went over. One set of tracks—his."

"And the first victim was a friend of your father's?" Julia asked, taking another sip of her tea.

"Best friend. Clayton Soames," Cassie confirmed; at least she knew the difference between a friend and a best friend. "They owned the car dealership together."

Julia pressed her lips together thoughtfully. "The same thing?"

Cassie nodded. "Dent, no tracks, and the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He lost control of his car."

Dean gave Sam a pointed look and then asked her, "Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"

"No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?"

Cassie laughed slightly at Sam's question, though it sounded bitter. "When you say it aloud like that..." she shook her head. "Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff or whatever it is you guys are into."

Dean scoffed. "Skeptical," he repeated angrily. "If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

Cassie pursed her lips. "That was then," Dean hummed sarcastically. "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there so I called you."

The front door opened and a woman walked in—well, stumbled in. Cassie jumped to her feet to rush over to her, while Julia, Sam, and Dean stood politely.

"Mom, where have you been?" Cassie steadied Mrs. Robinson. "I was so worried about you."

Mrs. Robinson waved her off, eyeing Julia, Dean, and Sam. "I had no idea you'd invited friends over."

"Mom, this is Dean, a..." Cassie hesitated before continuing. "friend of mine from college. This is his brother, Sam, and his friend, Julia."

Julia waved slightly, hiding her bitterness with a sympathetic smile.

She didn't even know why she was so bitter that Dean didn't consider her a friend. If he didn't, that was fine. They had only known each other for twenty years and spent almost everyday of the last seven months together in close corridors.

"Well, I, uh, I won't interrupt you," Mrs. Robinson went to walk out of the room but stopped when Dean spoke.

"Mrs. Robinson, we're sorry for your loss," he apologized. "We'd like to talk to you for a minute, if you don't mind?"

Mrs. Robinson looked at him wide, angry eyes. "I'm really not up for that right now."

As she walked out of the room, Cassie turned to them apologetically. "Sorry, she's having a rough time."

"It's no problem," Julia assured her. Grief effected everyone differently; Julia was rather avoidant and distant, herself, when she grieved. "It's late, we should get going..."

Dean nodded and stared at Cassie for a few seconds; she stared back, neither of them saying anything. It was incredibly awkward—for Julia, at least; Sam looked very amused at the situation Dean was in.

-

Julia was angry about something. Sam knew it from the moment he woke up to her shoving clothes back into her bag with quiet huffs that seemed to boom across the room. Dean was still dead to the world when she went to get ready for the day but now Sam was fully awake. He quickly got dressed and was pulling his toothbrush from the toiletry bag they shared when she came back out in spandex leggings and her Stanford crewneck, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail.

"I'm gonna go for a run," she informed him and it was only the second or third time in their life-long friendship that he heard her grumpy first thing in the morning. "Then I'm stopping at the diner for breakfast. Do you want me to bring you something?"

Sam shrugged. "I could eat."

"Then you will," Julia grabbed her debit card and license from her wallet and zipped them into the small pocket on her thigh. "See you in a bit."

"Be careful."

As Sam brushed his teeth and made sure his hair was neat, he wondered what Julia was angry about. The only thing he could think of is the fact that they were here on a case for Cassie. He wasn't sure if she knew about her feelings for Dean but he sure did.

His brother and Julia were both oblivious, though. It was concerning for both sides because Dean usually knew when women were attracted to him and Julia was pretty smart. How they couldn't see the feelings they had for each other was so frustrating, especially since Sam actually wanted it to happen so bad.

Dean was awake when Sam left the bathroom, his hair pointing in all directions like a hedgehog.

"Morning," he greeted his brother as he sat at the table to log into his laptop.

"Morning," Dean grumbled back, his eyes scanning the room. "Where's Jules?"

Sam hid his smile behind his laptop. "She went for a run. She's bringing back breakfast."

"Oh, good, I'm starving."

Twenty minutes later, Julia showed back up with breakfast. Sam watched his brother check her out—just like he knew he would because she was wearing those spandex leggings Dean loved—as she set the plastic bag and two coffees on the table.

"I got you a cheese and ham omelet," Julia said as she pulled a styrofoam container from the bag. "and toast with no butter."

Sam grinned as he took the coffee and food from her. "Thanks, J."

"No problem, Sam, that's what friends do."

"What'd you get me?" Dean bounded over to the table with a look of anticipation.

"Oh," she said flatly. "I didn't know you wanted anything."

Okay, this wasn't good. There were three different channels Julia would take when she was angry. There were the tears—which was her most usual one—the silent treatment—when she was so angry she didn't want to say anything to make it worse—and when she was petty, it meant that she was hurt and angry.

Not getting Dean food in the morning and then claiming she didn't know he wanted some was petty. Julia knew full well that Dean was hungry from the second he got up, sometimes even sooner. There had been numerous occasions the past few months the three of them spent together that Julia would pick up food early just so Dean could eat as soon as he got up.

So, she's hurt, too, Sam assumed to himself.

Dean gave her a horrified look. "You got Sam food."

"We're best friends."

"We're friends!" Dean exclaimed.

"Are we?" Julia's voice was dead calm and a lightbulb went off above Sam's head. "I hadn't known."

Julia was mad that Dean introduced her to Cassie as only Sam's friend and not their friend. Her friendships were important to her—Sam was pretty sure it stemmed from the fact that she didn't have many friends while growing up because she was from a prestigious family and she skipped a couple of grades, which freaked her classmates out. She was possessive and protective of her friendships and when Dean hadn't called her a friend, her feelings had been hurt.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean raised his eyebrows at her. "Of course we are. I've known you your whole life!"

Julia pressed her lips together in an even line and hummed before walking over to her bag and pulling out normal day clothes. She told them she was taking a shower before walking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Dean waited until he heard the water start before he looked over at Sam for answers.

"I think you hurt her feelings," Sam said quietly as he opened up his food container; Dean eyed it enviously.

"What'd I do?"

"You introduced her to Cassie as my friend."

"She is your friend."

"No, you made it sound like she was only my friend and not yours, too," Sam explained patiently; Dean wasn't the best with emotions.

Dean raised his eyebrows incredulously. "I didn't mean it like that," he defended himself. "That's really what she's hurt about?"

Sam nodded. "Well, and angry."