spn-safeandsound

[spn-safeandsound]

18. Ways to Grieve

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 2x02; Everybody Loves a Clown

Word Count: 11,378

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, grief, mentions of sexual activities

Author’s Note: Here’s Abby’s first hunt with Julia and the boys! I hope you like the chapter. Let me know what you think. Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

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.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

17. Piercing the Veil

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 2x01; In My Time of Dying

Word Count: 7,760

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, blood, minor character death

Author’s Note: Here’s the first chapter of season two! I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

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.."

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

Season Two

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

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

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

16. The Yellow-Eyed Demon

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x22; Devil’s Trap

Word Count: 9,163

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, murder, blood

Author’s Note: Sorry for not updating for a while. This is the last chapter in season one. I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

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—"

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

15. Meg Complicates Things

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x21; Salvation

Word Count: 7,605

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, demons, John Winchester

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy! Please reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

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."

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

14. Family Squabbles

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x20; Dead Man’s Blood

Word Count: 7,603

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, arguing

Author’s Note: Introducing Luke Alexander! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

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.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

13. Found Each Other

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x19; Provenance

Word Count: 9,972

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sexual themes

Author’s Note: I’m excited for y’all to read this! Make sure you tell me what you think! Reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

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.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

12. Long Distance

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x17; Hell House

Word Count: 7,182

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sisterly antics

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Let me know what you think! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

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.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

11. Too Many Coincidences

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x16; Shadow

Word Count: 8,933

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, minor character death, angst

Author’s Note: Introducing the Petersen clan! Tell me what you think of this chapter! Enjoy, reblog, and like!

Find the masterlink pinned on my profile!

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.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

10. Bad Energy

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x14; Nightmare

Word Count: 7,040

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, mention of sexual situations, suicide

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy! Remember to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Profile Description!

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."

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

09. Hurt Feelings

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x13; Route 666

Word Count: 10,028

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, arguing

Author’s Note: New chapter alert! Sam and Julia finally talk about her feelings for Dean? Hope you enjoy! Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

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."

Dean huffed, pressing his lips together. "How'd you know that?"

"She didn't bring you breakfast," Sam pointed out and Dean frowned at the reminder. "She's being petty."

"Petty?"

"Yep," Sam confirmed and went on to explain as if he was a Julia-whisperer. "See, Dean, there are three channels of anger Julia takes. Tears, silent treatment, and pettiness. You've seen the first two before and now you're seeing the pettiness."

"So, when she's petty, she's angry and hurt?" Dean's voice was flat, like he couldn't believe that Julia could react that way. It was surprising to Sam since Dean could be pretty petty himself.

"Yeah."

"Well, she's a grown ass woman, it's not my fault her feelings were hurt," Dean huffed and reached for the second coffee Julia brought. His eyes softened when he saw his own name on it. "Damn it."

Sam's lips quirked at the look of regret on Dean's face.

It was quiet until Julia came out of the bathroom dressed in skinny jeans, a gray sleeveless blouse, and a black cardigan. "I need to do laundry tonight," she informed them, shoving her running clothes into her laundry bag. "What about you, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam said thoughtfully. "I could."

"Good, I saw a laundry mat a block or so from the diner," Julia slipped on her gray ankle boots. "We'll hit it after dinner."

Sam nodded and Dean took the chance to try to get her attention. "Shortcake—"

"I also need more shampoo and conditioner," Julia interrupted like she hadn't heard him say her name. "I saw a Target in town, so maybe we can go there."

"Okay," Sam agreed.

"We can get you guys some more undershirts and things while we're there, too," Julia went on. "And I'm pretty sure you guys need shaving cream."

"Yeah, I think we're out."

Julia nodded and grabbed the notepad that the motel provided from the nightstand. She sat at the table and wrote down a list of things they needed; Sam smiled when he saw her include cooling and windshield wiper fluid for the Impala.

Dean finally had enough of her ignoring him. Maybe he realized just how much the two of them usually interacted compared to the silence she was giving him now.

"Julia, I'm sorry for telling Cassie you were only Sam's friend," he apologized quickly.

Both Sam and Dean looked at her expectantly. Julia just waved a hand at him. "It's fine."

Dean looked to Sam, perplexed, but Sam just shook his head. It wasn't fine.

And now Dean was getting mad. Sam could see the stormy look growing in his eyes. He knew he was in for a day of tense silence and angry looks. He was just grateful it wasn't as bad as their last argument; Dean probably wouldn't let their anger get that far again, though, since he still felt guilty about her getting injured while he was supposed to be her backup.

Two hours later, after getting a call from Cassie to tell them about her another death, they headed to the scene of the accident. Her boss, Jimmy, had crashed on the same stretch of road that Mr. Robinson and his business partner had died on.

When they arrived, Cassie was already talking with the man they saw her and Jimmy with the day before.

"Jimmy meant something to this town," the man said solemnly. "He was one of our best. We won't be the same without him."

"Our best seem to be dropping like flies," Cassie retorted angrily. "Clayton, my father, Jimmy..."

The man gave her an exasperated look. "What is it exactly you want me to do?"

"How about closing this section of road, for starters?"

"Close the main road," the man scoffed. "The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen, Cassie, and that's what they are—accidents."

Dean stepped in then, probably sensing that Cassie was about to blow a gasket. "Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car to see if it was pushed?"

The man looked to Cassie. "Who is this?"

"I'm Dean Potter, private investigator," Dean informed him before Cassie could answer. "This is my partner, Sam Granger—" he gestured to Sam and then Julia. "and our assistant, Julia Weasley."

"They're family friends," Cassie added to the man, before introducing him. "This is Mayor Harold Todd."

"There was one set of tire tracks," Mayor Todd said matter-of-factly. "One. That doesn't point to foul play."

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about—"

Mayor Todd cut her off indignantly. "Indifferent!"

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Cassie demanded.

Julia, Sam, and Dean's eyes all went to the mayor, waiting for an answer.

The mayor looked at her in shock. "You're suggesting I'm racist, Cassie?" he asked her and went on without an answer. "I'm the last person you should talk to like that."

Cassie pursed her lips. "And why is that?"

"Why don't you ask your mother?"

The mayor walked away without a word, leaving Cassie severely frustrated and confused.

"Uh, Jules and I are gonna go talk to some people, see if we can find out some more information," Dean said awkwardly; Julia pursed her lips, unhappy that she was paired up with the brother she was fighting with. "Sam, you stay with Cassie."

Sam nodded and stepped closer to Cassie as Dean and Julia walked away to question some of the police.

"So," Cassie started; Sam turned to her to see that she was looking over at Dean and Julia, who seemed to be arguing more than trying to find a person they could talk to. "How'd you and Dean meet Julia?"

"She's family friend, my best friend," Sam told her. "We've known her almost all our lives."

Cassie hummed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze was still on the pair and he looked to see that Julia was playfully pushing Dean, a suddenly amused look on her face. He must have told her a corny joke or something because Dean was laughing too.

That was how a lot of their arguments ended. Dean would tell a joke that wasn't really funny—Julia was a huge fan of dad jokes—and she would get distracted. They laughed together and then they'd get over whatever they were squabbling about. Sam much preferred those arguments than the ones that ended with Dean storming out of the room to cool off or Julia bursting into tears and hiding in the bathroom only for Dean to lure her out with a candy bar or cookies a half-hour later.

"He looks happy with her," Cassie commented softly. Her tone wasn't jealous or even bitter. It was simple and to the point like she was stating a universal truth.

Sam smiled softly as he continued watching his brother and best friend. Julia had gestured over to one of the coroner's employees and, when Dean nodded, she started toward the woman. Dean's eyes followed her for a few seconds before walking after her.

"Yeah, he does."

-

Sam walked out of the bathroom, shrugging on his suit jacket as he went. Julia was already dressed in a casual work-dress and black heels as she stood in front of Dean, reaching up to straighten his tie for him.

"Well," he spoke up, earning a brief glance from Julia. "Cassie sure is fearless."

"Mmhm," Dean hummed, keeping his eyes on Julia's face.

"I bet she kicked your ass a couple of times."

Dean finally turned away from Julia as she finished with his tie and gave Sam an annoyed look.

"What I think is interesting is the fact that you two never look at each other at the same time," Julia spoke up as she went to sit at the foot of Dean's bed, crossing her leg over the over; Dean's eyes followed the movement. "You look at her when she's not looking and she looks at you when you look away."

"That's true," Sam agreed. He had noticed that as well but he also noticed that the same thing applied to Adrian and Julia, too.

Dean gave them both annoyed looks now. "You think we might have more pressing issues here?"

"Ooh, Sam, I think we hit a nerve," Julia cooed teasingly.

Dean pressed his lips together. "Oh," he complained, turning away from them to leave the room. "Let's go."

Julia smiled and raised her eyebrows at Sam, earning an amused grin in return.

The three of them went down to the docks by the river, looking for friends of Jimmy's that were both his next of kin. They were posing as insurance agents who needed to investigate the matter of Jimmy's death. Sam and a reluctant Dean let Julia take the lead on the questioning since she had a better track of getting old men to answer her questions.

"Excuse me," Julia walked over to a table where two men who matched the description of who they were looking for sat. "Are you Ron Stubbins and Clarence Thomas?"

Both men nodded.

"And you were friends with Jimmy Anderson?"

"Yeah," Ron confirmed when Julia smiled charmingly. "Whatcha need, girly?"

"Me and my partners, here, are from Mr. Anderson's insurance company, All National Mutual," Julia informed the men. "We just need to ask you a few questions to make sure our report is correct. Is that okay?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Sam saw Julia flinch only slightly—a left over response from her run-in with the shapeshifter—and then cover it up with a smile. "We were just wondering, had Mr. Anderson mentioned any unusual recent experiences?"

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean, unusual?"

"Well, visions, hallucinations," Sam listed helpfully.

Ron and Clarence gave him a weird look.

"It's part of the medical report, Mr. Stubbins and Mr. Thomas," Julia assured them kindly. "It's just standard questioning with car accidents."

"Right," Ron nodded. "Well, no, he wasn't."

"Had he mentioned seeing a big black truck?" she continued to dazzle them. "We've got some local reports so wewant to make sure there's no correlation to Mr. Anderson's accident."

"He didn't say anything to me," Ron denied.

"Was this truck a big scary monster-looking thing?" Clarence asked.

"Yes, sir."

Dean and Sam gave each other impressed looks. Julia was crushing this.

"I've heard of a truck like that," Clarence said. "but it's been years."

Julia raised her eyebrows curiously. "Years?"

Clarence nodded. "Back in the sixties, there was a string of deaths—black men," he informed them. "Story goes, they'd disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck."

"Did they ever catch the person who did it?"

"Never found him," Clarence shook his head and scoffed. "Hell, I'm not sure they even really looked. See, there was a time this town wasn't too friendly too all of its citizens."

Julia gave him a sympathetic smile and reached out to shake both of their hands. "Well, thank you for answering our questions, gentlemen," she said sweetly. "You two enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too, honey," Clarence grinned at her while Ron smiled gratefully.

Sam and Dean each shook Ron and Clarence's hands before they left the dock.

"The truck," Dean spoke up when they were far enough away from the dock so they weren't overheard.

Sam nodded. "Keeps coming up, doesn't it?"

Dean hummed. "You know, I was thinking...you ever heard of the Flying Dutchman?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "a ghost ship infused with the captain's evil spirit. It was basically a part of him."

"Yeah, so, what if we're dealing with the same thing?" Dean theorized. "You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, reenacting past crimes."

"The victims have all been black men," Julia said thoughtfully. "but they're also connected to Cassie's family in some way."

"I was thinking the same thing," Dean agreed with her.

"All right," Sam nodded. "Dean, you work the Cassie angle and go talk to her."

"Yeah, I will."

"Oh, and you might also want to mention that other thing," Sam suggested.

Dean gave him a confused look as they approached the Impala. "What other thing?"

"The serious unfinished business," Sam reminded him. "Dean, what is going on between you two?"

"All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said," Dean admitted.

Sam nodded skeptically. "Oh, okay."

"Okay, a lot more, maybe," Dean sighed. "And I told her our secret, about what we do, and I shouldn't have."

"Look, man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime," Sam told his brother, his eyes darting to behind Dean, where Julia was leaning against the Impala and staring at the river with an impassive glare.

"Yeah, I don't," Dean stated as if he didn't already know that. "It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended."

Sam smiled at him.

"Would you stop?" Dean gave him an uncomfortable look. "Blink or something!"

"Dean," it was Julia who spoke this time, getting both brothers' attention. "you loved her."

"Oh, God," Dean groaned in disgust.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You loved her but you dumped her?"

"No, she dumped him," Julia corrected him absentmindedly.

"She dumped you?"

Dean shot her an annoyed look. "Julia, what the hell?"

Julia gave him an innocent smile but it didn't seem to work.

Dean huffed and opened his door. "Get in the car," he ordered, sliding into his seat. When neither Sam nor Julia moved, he repeated himself, "Get in the fucking car!"

Julia and Sam exchanged another amused look before getting in their respective seats.

-

"Got any fours?"

"Nope," Sam replied. Julia sighed and leaned forward, picking a new card up out of the deck.

The twenty-four-hour laundry mat was empty except for them, though it was because it was close to midnight. The air was cold and Sam was chilled but Julia sat on the counter in just pajama shorts and a tank-top, unbothered by the temperature. The girl had fire in her veins, she was never cold.

They broke out the deck of cards as they washed all the dirty clothes they had, taking up four of the washers and dryers. Luckily, they were almost done. They had one last load of Julia's clothes in the dryer that had to finish and then be folded, but other than that, they were pretty much finished.

They'd gone through two games of rummy, one game of war, and one game of slapjack by the time they settled on go-fish. It was child's play but it was better than doing nothing. Julia's iPod was turned on and they were able to listen to music that didn't have an insane drumbeat.

"Do you have any nines?" Sam asked as Yellow by Coldplay started playing.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you...

Julia pouted and pulled a nine from her hand, passing it over to him. "Why are you so good at this?"

Sam chuckled. "It's just luck, J."

In truth, it was because he could see her cards. She wasn't the best at hiding them but he didn't say anything because it amused him. It was like with Dean when he only picked scissors when they did rock-paper-scissors.

And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow...

Julia hummed doubtfully. "Okay, go again."

"Um, two?"

Julia's face lit up. "Ha! Go fish!"

Sam made a show of rolling his eyes while he grabbed a new card.

"Do you have an eight?"

Sam silently handed over the card to her, making her pump her fist excitedly as the chorus of the song played.

"Okay, what about a five?"

"Go fish."

"No!" Julia sighed dramatically, picking up a card. "Your turn, S."

"Ones?"

"Go fish."

"Tens?"

"Go fish."

"Fives?"

Julia gaped at him in disbelief. "You said you didn't have any fives, Samuel!"

"And then I picked one up," Sam defended himself with a slight smirk. "So, do you have a five?"

"I hate you!" Julia threw the card at him.

"No, you don't," Sam put down his pair. "Okay, ones?"

"Go fish."

I swam across, I jumped across for you. Oh, what a thing to have done and it was all yellow...

"This is a good song," Sam commented as he grabbed a card from the deck.

Julia nodded. "Yeah, it reminds me of someone."

Oh, really? He thought to himself. Someone, whose name rhymes with Wean Dinchester?

He decided to just bite the bullet. "Someone like Dean?"

Julia's eyes immediately darted up to his. "What?" she shook her head in denial. "No, of course not."

"Right," he nodded in agreement. "Of course, not."

And you know, for you I'd bleed myself dry...

As the guitar solo started, Julia blurted, "Yes, it's someone like Dean."

"I knew it!" Sam grinned. "I knew you liked him."

Julia rolled her eyes. "God, I never thought I'd be having girl-talk with you, S."

"Yeah, well, how many times did you listen to me yearn over Jess?"

Julia chuckled. "For about a year," she grinned fondly. "and then, when I got back to the dorm, she'd talk about you."

Sam changed the subject before the grief could start in. "You should tell Dean."

Julia raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"...No."

"Sam, Dean isn't the love type of guy," she reminded him. "He doesn't do relationships."

"He loved Cassie and he dated her a couple of weeks."

"Yeah, well, obviously, that's different."

"Yeah, you have more history and chemistry with him," Sam pointed out. "You've known him your whole life."

"Exactly!" she pointed at him. "He still sees me as a kid—do you have a two?"

"Go fish," Sam answered. "and trust me, J, he doesn't see you as a kid."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that he'd be in jail if he looked at a kid like he looked at you."

Julia scoffed and reached forward, slapping his thigh. "Samuel William!"

"What, it's true!" Sam rubbed the spot where she hit him. "You should see the looks he gives you. You look at him like that, too."

"I don't leer at him!"

"I didn't say anything about leering, you said that on your own. Do you have a one?"

"I don't have any ones, Sam, God!"

"It's the only card I have left."

"Well, now you have another one."

Sam reached for a card from the deck. It was a one. He chuckled and set down his last pair, grinning triumphantly at Julia's disappointed pout.

"Why do you have to win every game?"

"Because I'm awesome," Sam said quickly. "Now, back to Dean..."

"Okay, first of all, you're way too excited about this," Julia jumped off the counter as Sam started picking up the deck. "Secondly, Dean and I aren't gonna happen."

Sam closed the deck and slipped it back into Julia's purse. "You don't know that."

"Why hasn't he called us yet?" Julia asked pointedly. "He never goes over an hour to check in if we're by ourselves. It's been six hours since he went to Cassie's and there's been no word."

"So?"

"So, obviously something is going on over there and I don't think it's because he's in danger."

"Okay," Sam had to admit that she was probably right. "but that doesn't mean they're together. Dean's had one-night-stands before."

"Not with someone he loved."

Sam sighed. "Look, Dean may have had feelings for Cassie but I doubt it was love."

"Oh?"

"When Dean loves someone he fights for them," Sam declared and Julia's lips twisted thoughtfully. "He fought to find our dad. He's fought for me so many damn times that I've lost count. So, if he really loved Cassie as much as you think he did, he would have stayed and changed her mind."

The Coldplay song ended and one by Britney Spears started up. The last dryer beeped, signaling that Julia's clothes were done.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Sam," Julia sighed as she brought the laundry cart over to the dryer to take out her clothes. "It just gets my hopes up and I don't want to deal with the fallout when Dean inevitably rejects me."

"Julia..."

"Seriously, Sam."

"Okay, fine," Sam gave in and walked over to the table where the rest of their clothes were, already folded. He picked up one of her t-shirts and folded it, putting it in her pile. "You know, we should go see a movie soon."

"Yeah?" Julia raised an eyebrow at him, approving of the subject change. "Which one?"

"I saw that Stick It is getting good reviews."

"We'll go for your birthday," Julia promised. "The lucky twenty-three. God, you're so old."

"Shut up."

-

Julia acted like the conversation she and Sam had the night before hadn't happened. Sam didn't bring it up, either, especially since Dean never came back to the motel room. She seemed okay, though, she didn't seem jealous or bitter like other twenty-year-old women might have been when the guy they had feelings for met up with an old flame and spent the night with them. There were moments where Julia could be a little brat—like most younger sisters—but the older she got the more mature she was getting.

And, when they got a call about the mayor's death, she was the one to call Dean to tell him about it.

It was way too cold for mid-April, so Sam and Julia were bundled up in their warmest jackets—which, really, was just Sam's usual canvas jacket and one of Julia's crewnecks—as they went to see what had happened to the mayor. They questioned the police, using the same private investigator alias that Dean brought up the day before, and waited for Dean to meet up with them.

Just as they were finishing up with one of the police officers, the man's eyes flickered behind them. Julia and Sam turned slightly and noticed that Dean was approaching them.

"He's with us," Sam informed the police officer. The man walked away and Sam expectantly turned to Dean. "Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel."

Dean turned away from Sam and Julia, watching the mayor's body bag being carted by. "Nope."

"I'm guessing you guys worked things out?"

"We'll be working things out while we're ninety," Dean grumbled. "So, what happened?"

"Every bone in the mayor's body was crushed," Julia spoke up, curling her hand into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "Internal bleeding all over the place...none of the cops know what happened."

"It was like something ran him over," Sam finished.

"Something like a truck?"

"Yep."

"Tracks?"

"What was the mayor doing here, anyway?" Dean wondered.

"He owned the property," Julia informed him. "Bought it a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, but he's white," Dean pointed out. "He doesn't fit the pattern."

"And the killing didn't happen up on the road, so that doesn't fit, either," Sam stated.

"Okay," Dean sighed, running a hand down his face. "I'll go see if Cassie can help me get access to whatever happened in the sixties. You two go to the courthouse to see what you can find out about the mayor and why the truck came to this place."

The three of them split up again, Julia and Sam teaming up once more to form their dynamic duo. With two of them being able to research without Dean distracting Julia—who was already prone to being distracted—they easily found the property records that the mayor just purchased.

They called Dean when they got back to the motel with lunch.

"Yeah?" Dean answered.

"Okay, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property," Sam informed his brother while Julia munched on her lunch of grilled cheese and fries. "The previous owner was the Dorian family, for, like a hundred and fifty years."

"Dorian?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you say that Dorian family used to own this paper?" they heard Dean ask Cassie.

"Yeah," Cassie confirmed. "Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town."

"Right, right," Dean hummed; Julia and Sam heard the light clicks of a computer mouse. "That's interesting."

"What?" Julia wondered, popping a fry in her mouth.

"This Cyrus Dorian, he vanished in April of sixty-three," Dean told them. "The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders going on back then."

"Well, we pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place," Julia sighed. "It must have been in bad shape when the mayor bought it."

"Why's that?"

"The first thing he did was bulldoze the house."

"Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?" Dean asked Cassie.

"It was a big deal," Cassie told him. "One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page."

Dean clicked his tongue. "You got a date, shortcake?"

"The third of last month."

There was more clicking on the other line. "Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the third," Dean declared. "The first killing was the very next day."

-

Julia passed the cup of tea to Cassie with a small smile, making sure she wouldn't burn herself.

Cassie sighed heavily. "Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that."

Julia just gave her another smile and sat down on the couch next to her. Cassie had called Dean an hour after they had eaten dinner, frantically telling him that she had seen the scary black truck that had been killing people. The three of them rushed over to her house to keep her safe and comfort her.

"You didn't see who was driving the truck?" Dean asked from Cassie's other side.

Cassie shook her head. "It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast and then it was just gone," she gave him a frightened look. "Why didn't it kill us?"

"Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first," Dean told her.

Sam, who was sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch, turned to Mrs. Robinson, who was sitting next to him. "Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died."

Mrs. Robinson stared at him, the teacup in her hands shaking.

"Mom?" Cassie prompted.

"Oh, Martin was under a lot of stress," Mrs. Robinson said. "You can't be sure about what he was seeing."

"Well, after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck," Dean bristled, his voice growing firm. "What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked, okay? Your daughter could die so if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it."

Cassie gave him a warning look. "Dean."

Dean didn't back down, staring at Mrs. Robinson expectantly.

"Yes," Mrs. Robinson answered. "Yes, he said he saw a truck."

"Did he know who it belonged to?" Julia asked.

"He thought he did."

"Who was that?"

"Cyrus," Mrs. Robinson answered Dean, her lips pressed together emotionally. "A man named Cyrus."

Julia turned to Dean and Sam with raised eyebrows, getting similar looks back from both of them. She pulled the newspaper article that Dean had printed about Cyrus Dorian from her purse and showed it to Mrs. Robinson.

"Is this Cyrus?"

Tears filled Mrs. Robinson's eyes. "Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago."

"How do you know he died, Mrs. Robinson? The paper said he went missing," Dean asked, his face falling in realization. "How do you know he died?"

"We were all very young," Mrs. Robinson started to explain, her voice trembling. "I dated Cyrus for a while and I was also seeing Martin—in secret, of course. Inter-racial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and he found out about Martin..." she paused and shook her head before quietly continuing. "I don't know, he changed. His hatred—his hatred was frightening."

"The string of murders," Sam assumed.

"There were rumors, people of color disappearing into some kind of truck," Mrs. Robinson confirmed. "Nothing was ever done."

Julia frowned, angry that the people who were killed by Cyrus didn't get justice for what happened to them.

"Martin and...Martin and I, we were gonna be married in that little church near here but last minute we decided to elope because we didn't want the attention," Mrs. Robinson went on, sniffing back tears.

"And Cyrus?"

Mrs. Robinson's face contorted as a sob escaped her throat. "The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church," she cried; Julia inhaled sharply, her own tears filling her eyes. "There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died."

"Did the attacks stop after that?" Julia whispered shakily.

"No, there was one more," Mrs. Robinson told them through her sobs. "One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible but Martin, you see, Martin got loose...and he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Why didn't you call the cops?"

Julia gave Dean a pointed look; he knew damn well why they didn't call the cops. She didn't blame them; Cyrus deserved what he got.

"This was forty years ago," Mrs. Robinson cried. "He called on his friend, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body in the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land. All three of them kept that secret all of these years."

"And now all three are gone," Sam said quietly. "and so is Mayor Todd."

"He said that you, of all people, would know he is not a racist," Dean looked to Mrs. Robinson. "Why would he say that?"

"He was a good man," Mrs. Robinson's cries calmed as she placed her hands on her neck. "He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the other had done, he...he did nothing...because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cassie asked her mother, her voice breaking.

"I thought I was protecting them," Mrs. Robinson's sobs started up again. "and now there's no one to protect."

That's not true, Julia thought to herself. She has Cassie.

Dean had the same idea. "Yes, there is," he told her before looking over at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson did, too, her face falling in realization.

Julia, Sam, and Dean reconvened out by the Impala to discuss what they found out.

"Ah, my life was so simple," Sam sighed playfully as he and Julia leaned against the car and Dean paced back and forth in front of them. "Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms..."

"Translating old Hebrew proverbs, comparing and contrasting Islam and Christianity, trying to tell the difference between classical Latin and archaic Latin..." Julia added wistfully.

"Well, I guess I saved you two from a boring existence," Dean stopped pacing to lean against the car, too.

"Ah, occasionally I miss boring," Sam sighed heavily.

"So, this killer truck—"

"I miss conversations that didn't start with this killer truck," Sam added, more playfully.

Dean chuckled a little. "Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck," he stated. "When he died, the swamp became his tomb and his spirit was dormant for forty years."

"So what woke it up?" Julia asked,

"The construction on his house," Dean told her. "or the destruction."

"Right," Sam nodded. "Demolition or re-modeling can awaken spirits, make them restless. Like that theatre in Illinois, you know?"

"And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved."

"So, now his spirit is awakened and out for blood."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean shrugged. "Who knows what ghosts are thinking, anyway?"

"You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?" Sam pointed out.

Dean smirked at him, causing Sam to let out a groan. "What?" Dean asked innocently. "You said it."

"Yeah."

Dean shook his head and looked toward the house, straightening up when he saw Cassie walking toward them. "Hey."

"Hey," Cassie smiled at him. "She's asleep. Now what?"

"Well, you should stay put and look after her," Dean told her. "and we'll be back. Don't leave the house."

"Don't go getting all authoritative on me," Cassie shook her head with a small smile. "I hate it."

Julia wrinkled her nose as they flirted, looking over at Sam to see that he was already smiling at her. She smoothed out her face and tried not to react as Dean apologized to Cassie and they started making out right in of them.

This is so incredibly awkward, she mused.

Sam cleared his throat and Dean reached behind his back to give him the finger.

When Dean pulled away from the kiss, he told Cassie, "Julia's gonna stay with you, all right?"

"What?" Julia spoke up, unpleased. "I'm going with you and Sam."

"No, you're staying with Cassie," Dean's tone was authoritative and it made her bristle. "I don't need to babysit you while this is going on."

"Dean."

Sam winced as Julia's eyes started to water. "Babysit me?" she scoffed. "How many times have I saved your ass since I started hunting with you?"

"Don't change the subject," Dean almost barked. "Do what I said and stay by Cassie's side."

Julia angrily pressed her lips together and grabbed her laptop from the backseat of the Impala. "You're a dick," she spat at Dean as she stormed past him, Sam, and Cassie back up to the house. "Don't come crying to me when you need my help!"

It was awkward and quiet when Cassie came back into the house and sat with her in the living room. Julia had already booted up her computer to work on an upcoming essay in her Hebrew class when Cassie spoke up.

"I'm sorry you had to stay with me," she apologized.

"It's not that I have to stay with you," Julia assured her with an apologetic smile. "It's that Dean treats me like I'm a kid and I can't make my own choices."

Cassie hummed knowingly. "I know what that feels like," she shared. "If it makes you feel any better, though, I think he's doing it to look out for you."

No, Julia thought, he wanted me to look after you.

She just gave Cassie a small smile, deciding that if Dean wanted her to be with Cassie, it was because he trusted her. Either way, she was still irritated. She didn't like being bossed around; if he just asked her to stay instead of commanding it like she was his assistant, it would have been fine.

It was another hour later that Sam called Julia, asking for information about the church so they could get rid of the spirit truck which was now following Dean around the back roads. Cassie gave Julia the information and she called Dean right away.

"What?" Dean snapped, the engine revving in the background. "This better be good."

"Where are you?" Julia asked as she looked down at the map Cassie had pulled out for her.

"In the middle of fucking nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!" he shouted, causing her to wince from the volume. "It's like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus."

"Listen to me, this is important so I have to know exactly where you are."

"Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway."

Julia scanned the map, easily finding the road. "Okay. Are you headed east?"

"Yes!" there was a loud crash of metal and then, "You son of a fucking bitch!"

"Okay, turn right," Julia said hurriedly. "Up ahead, turn right."

The squeal of tires met Julia's ears. "Did you turn?"

"Yeah, I made the turn!" Dean shouted. "You're gonna need to move this thing along a little faster."

"Do you see a road up ahead?" Julia consulted the map, biting her lib anxiously.

"No—wait, yes, I see it."

"Okay, turn left."

"Okay, now what?"

"You need to go exactly seven-tenths of a mile and then stop," she advised him.

"Stop?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Exactly seven-tenths, Dean."

"Seven-tenths, seven-tenths..."

More tire squealing and then just the engine of the Impala as it idled.

"Dean, are you still there?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on?"

"It's just staring at me," Dean reported. "What do I do?"

"Just keep doing what you're doing. Stay still and bring it to you."

"Wha—?" Dean stammered. "Come on, come on, come on..."

There was a loud roar of an engine, much different than the Impala's, and then it disappeared. Julia looked up at Cassie, who was looking at the phone with an anxious expression.

"Dean, are you okay?" Julia called, knowing that he was probably okay. There would have been a loud crash, otherwise.

"Where'd it go?"

"Dean, you're where the church was."

"What church?"

"The place that Cyrus burned down and killed all those kids," Julia informed him. "Even if it's not still standing, it's hallowed ground. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground and sometimes they get destroyed. Sam figured it out and I had to find the location."

"Well, what if it hadn't of worked?" Dean almost yelled.

Julia frowned. Even when she and Sam saved his ass, he was still a dick. "Hey, I was just following orders," she snapped at him. "I guess that's all I'm good for."

She snapped the phone shut and threw it in her laptop case. "The spirit's gone," she told Cassie, a little snippily. "If you want to talk to Dean, you'll have to call him from your phone."

"Yeah, no problem," Cassie nodded. "Thanks for your help, Julia."

"I didn't do much of anything," Julia sighed and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry about your dad, Cassie."

Cassie smiled sadly. "Me too."

-

It was silent in the motel room that night. Dean had gone to town as soon as he dropped Julia and Sam off at the room and, an hour and a half later, he still wasn't back. Sam had started reading a book that Julia told him about and she watched America's Next Top Model re-runs next to him on the bed.

Sam looked away from his book every so often, seeing that Julia's nose was still wrinkled in displeasure. From what Sam understood, it was because Dean had yelled at her on the phone after the two of them saved his ass

"You okay?" he asked her, slipping his bookmark into the book where he left off.

Julia turned her head away from the television. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "You just seem sad."

"Oh..."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Julia's eyes stung as she practically lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Sam, you are the bestest friend ever. I don't deserve you. Seriously, I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Sam chuckled into her hair. "You tell me every day, J."

"You deserve to hear it every day, S," Julia declared as tears leaked from her eyes. "You're a good man."

Sam felt her body shake with her cries. "Why are you crying?"

"Cause I'm just happy to have you in my life."

"I'm happy to have you in my life, too," Sam forcefully unwrapped her arms from him and gave her an amused smile as she pulled back. "but you were choking me."

Julia frowned and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

The motel door opened and Dean walked into the room, carrying a couple of plastic bags. One of them was from a local Chinese restaurant, while the other two were from stores in the mall.

"Hey," Sam greeted him as he got off the bed. "Where'd you go."

"I got a peace offering," Dean proclaimed, walking over to Julia's side of the bed. "Junior, I'm sorry for everything, okay? You are my friend and you did save my ass tonight. I'm sorry I wasn't more appreciative."

Julia's lips quirked a hint.

"So," Dean pulled a Converse box from the larger of the bags in his hand. "I got you these to replace the ones that were ruined at Roy's place."

"Thanks, Dean," Julia whispered, opening the box to see the low-top white Converse. They were the exact ones she had been looking at recently. "These are great."

"And," Dean gave her the other bag, which was smaller. "This is because you've been kicking ass lately."

Julia gave him a curious look as she pulled out a small rectangle box. She gasped when she opened it to reveal her own switchblade with a design on the handle and 'Shortcake' engraved on the blade.

"Dean!" she squeaked, tears coming to her eyes again. "Thank you so much, oh my God!"

Sam grinned as Julia jumped up and pulled Dean into a tight hug, crying into his shoulder. It was already a cute situation but damn it if Sam's heart didn't melt when Dean kissed her on the forehead in return.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

08. Julia Ruth

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x12; Faith

Word Count: 11,431

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, injury, a steamy scene that doesn’t get very far, protective Dean

Author’s Note: Hi there! Sorry for the weeks since I last updated but I’m here again. This chapter is when things start to change for Dean as far as his feelings toward Julia. Hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

The car was dead quiet. There was no music playing, there was no talking; the only sound that anyone could hear was the roar of the engine as Dean sped down the road to the abandoned house they had tracked the rawhead to.

Dean was the reason for the tense silence that filled the air. Well, really it was Dean and Julia but Dean was the only one still angry. Sam honestly thought his brother was overreacting but this was Baby they were talking about.

Their day started out normal. It was Julia's turn to pay for the motel, so they got connected rooms. They had breakfast, they questioned some witnesses about the disappearance of two young siblings, and then they went back to the motel to do some research. That's when things went downhill.

Dean had eaten the last of the chocolate chip cookies that Julia kept stashed away in her bag. Julia had thrown a fit when she found the empty box—it was then that Sam realized that he knew her way too well because he figured it was around the time of the month she started PMS-ing—and started an argument with Dean. Dean was never one to pass up a challenge, so he matched her tone and volume yell-for-yell.

And then Dean mentioned in passing that he saw her undergarments while looking for the cookies and it made it much worse. Sam had seen the embarrassed glint in Julia's eyes before Dean could and within the next moment, she burst into tears.

Dean had been absolutely horrified and started to apologize but Julia wasn't hurt—she was angry. She quickly went into her room and slammed the door that connected their rooms shut. When Dean had gone to the bathroom ten minutes later, she walked back into the room and stole the keys to the Impala.

Sam hadn't stopped her but he should have. He knew about the mood swings she'd get the week before her time of the month and he usually stayed out of her way but Dean was much more terrifying when it came to his precious Baby. He knew now that he'd much rather have a small ball of fury glaring at him with tears in her eyes than deal with his annoying brother when he was angry.

When Dean came out of the bathroom and saw that his keys were gone, he was livid. He waited for Julia in her room and when she got back from the gas station she drove to, with two packages of chocolate chip cookies and a tube of Pringles, the yelling started back up again—and the crying.

Sam honestly wondered how they hadn't gotten a noise complaint.

It had been hours since then and Julia had calmed down considerably. In fact, Sam would guess that she wasn't mad at all anymore, especially when she got her chocolate chip cookie fix. Dean, however, was a different story. He was still furious and was not talking to Julia whatsoever, leaving Sam to mediate. Now he knew how Julia felt whenever he and Dean argued.

Dean pulled into the driveway of the abandoned house and parked, turning off the engine. The three of them gathered at the trunk, watching as Dean dug through their arsenal to find the three tasers.

"How many volts are those turned to?" Julia asked Dean tentatively.

Dean pointedly ignored her.

Sam sighed heavily. "What do you got those amped up to?"

"A hundred thousand volts," Dean answered Sam. Julia's gaze hardened but she didn't say anything as he handed Sam the two tasers; Sam passed one of them onto her.

"Damn."

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra-fucking-crispy," Dean grumbled as he shut the trunk. "Remember, you only get one shot with these things, so make it count."

They walked into the house and carefully searched the whole main floor before heading into the basement. They turned on their flashlights and slowly walked down the stairs, making sure to keep an eye out for the rawhead. There heard a thump come from their left and saw that it had come from a closed wardrobe.

"On three," Dean whispered to Sam as the two of them walked toward the wardrobe. "One. Two. Three."

He hurriedly opened the wardrobe, hearing a shrill squeak of fear. Julia turned around from where she was searching for the rawhead and saw that the brothers had found the little kids that had disappeared.

"Is it still here?" Sam asked them quietly; both kids nodded.

"Okay, grab your sister's hand," Dean grabbed the boy and gently pulled him to his feet. "Come on, we gotta get you out of here."

The kids scurried up the stairs with Sam on their heels and Dean and Julia watched their backs if the rawhead decided to attack them. Sam tripped as his ankle was grabbed through the staircase, causing the little girl to scream.

Sam watched as Dean whipped around the stairs and shot his taser. It surged out but hit nothing.

"Sam, get them upstairs!" Dean called to him. "Get outta here!"

"Here, take this," Sam tossed him his own taser before turning to scrambled up the rest of the stairs. He grabbed both of the kids' hands and led them out of the house. "Come on, come on."

They were safely outside when Sam heard Dean scream, "Julia!"

The desperation in his brother's voice chilled Sam's blood. He briefly told the kids to stay outside before sprinting back into the house and down the stairs to the basement. At the foot of the stairs, in a puddle of water, Dean knelt over Julia's body, desperately shaking her to wake her up.

Sam's breath left him.

"Julia!" he grunted, checking her pulse. "Come on, Jules, don't do this."

"Dean, what—?"

"Call an ambulance, Sam!"

He felt like his life was slowed down and then sped up in a second. He didn't remember calling for an ambulance, the paramedics doing CPR on Julia, or the ride to the hospital. It was like he blinked and he was suddenly in the middle of a silent waiting room, waiting for news on his best friend.

Sam hadn't been allowed to go back with Julia since he wasn't family but Dean had lied to the paramedics and told them he was her husband. While Dean stayed with Julia as the doctors ran tests on her, Sam called her family and took care of the paperwork that needed to be done while the police waited to ask him questions.

"Sir, I'm so sorry to ask," the nurse at the desk smiled sadly at him. "but your brother said you would give us Mrs. Petersen's insurance."

"Right," Sam shook his head blankly, pulling the insurance card that he took from Julia's wallet. He handed it to the nurse, along with her driver's license. "Here you go."

"Thank you, Mr. Petersen," the nurse assumed that his last name was the same as Julia's since they were told that she was married to his brother.

Sam nodded at her and turned to the police officers while she typed in Julia's information.

"Look, we can finish this up later," one of the officers suggested.

"No, no, it's okay," Sam shook his head; he wanted to get this done now. "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. The windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped and ran in."

"And you found the kids in the basement?" the officer asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, thank God you did," the officer's partner commented

Sam looked back down the hallway when he heard the door to Julia's room open and close. A doctor walked out, holding a clipboard, and nodded at him so he could share Julia's results.

"Excuse me," he muttered to the officers.

"Sure," the officer nodded. "Thanks for your help."

Sam gave him a polite smile and turned away, walking over to the doctor. "Is she...?"

"She's resting," the doctor assured him.

"And?"

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack," the man informed him. "A pretty massive one, I'm afraid. Her heart is damaged."

Sam stiffened. "How damaged?"

"We've done all we can," he said sympathetically. "We can try and keep her comfortable at this point but I'd give her a couple of weeks. A month, at most."

"No," Sam shook his head in denial, his heart starting to race. "There's—there's gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment."

They could put her on the transplant list, they could give her a pacemaker...they had to do something, at least. Julia could not die. His sister could not die. He would do anything in his power to make sure she stayed alive. She was the one who was supposed to plan his funeral. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The doctor gave him a sad smile. "We can't work miracles," he mumbled. "I really am sorry."

Sam pressed his lips together and stormed away from the man. What kind of doctor wouldn't even put his patient on a heart transplant list? Didn't Julia qualify for that kind of thing? It's not like she smoked or did anything that would prevent her from being on the list.

The door to Julia's room was opened slightly and Sam could hear the low rumble of his brother's voice talking to someone. At first he thought that he was talking to Julia but then he realized that Dean was actually on the phone.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do, Beth," Dean spoke to Julia's oldest sister as Sam slipped into the room. Dean nodded at him and started again, reacting to whatever Beth told him, "No, a few weeks...he didn't say anything about a list, no... I can't exactly move her, Beth. She wouldn't make a drive back home, it's fourteen hours."

As Dean continued speaking with Beth, Sam observed his best friend. Julia was still asleep and the hospital bed made her look so damn small. Her brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head, an oxygen mask placed over her mouth and nose, and dark circles stood out against her pale face under her eyes. There was a burn on her left cheek and at the top of her left arm, there was a bandage; Sam remembered that she had a few burns from where the volts left her body. He had never seen her look so sick.

"We're in Cheyanne, Wyoming," Dean told Beth.

Dean sounded as tired as Julia looked. His voice was dull and thick, as if he had a frog in his throat. The tip of his nose was red and so were the rims of his eyes. Sam had realized that Dean had been crying and it made his own throat tighten with emotion.

When he saw that Dean's, fingers were wrapped firmly around Julia's right hand where it rested on the hospital bed, tears came to his eyes.

God, he thought to himself, this couldn't be happening.

"Okay, I'll keep you updated," Dean confirmed into the phone. "Talk to you later, Beth."

He snapped the phone shut and stayed silent as he set it down and picked up the TV remote. He unmuted the volume and flipped through the channels, all the while keeping his hand around Julia's and his eyes on the TV.

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV?" he asked Sam.

Sam sighed heavily. "I talked to J's doctor..."

"That fabric softener teddy bear," Dean narrowed his eyes at the commercial before flipping to a different channel as he avoided the conversation Sam was trying to have with him. "Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

"Dean."

Dean pressed the power button on the remote, shutting the TV off before looking at Sam. "Abby's on her way here," he informed him. "She's gonna stay with Julia while we head off."

"What are you talking about?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "We're not leaving without Julia, Dean."

"I don't want to leave her, either, Sammy, but..." Dean trailed off and pressed his lips together to hide the emotion that Sam saw brewing in his eyes. "...there's nothing we can do for her."

"No, she's not gonna die, okay?" Sam quickly got defensive. "I'll—I'll find a way to save her. I'll look into every option."

"Sam, the doctors—"

"The doctors don't know the things we do, Dean!" he interrupted his brother.

"And what if you can't find anything, huh?" Dean's voice raised in frustration, his fingers tightening around Julia's hand.

"Then I'm staying with her until the end," Sam's firm statement made Dean pause and lower his eyes.

Dean's vision blurred as he stared at the periwinkle polish on Julia's fingernails. She had been so damn excited to find that color that she blabbed about it for almost an hour before Dean tuned her out by turning up the volume of his music. He wished he hadn't done that. He'd listen to her talk about periwinkle nail polish for days if it meant that she'd be okay.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "We'll stay with her, then," he said quietly, his wet eyes flickering up to meet's Sam's equally sad ones. "and we'll try to find something."

Sam nodded, glad that his brother agreed with him. He sat down on Julia's other side and took her hand, careful not to dislodge her IV. An hour later, when the nurse told them that visiting hours were over, he pretended he didn't see Dean kiss Julia on the forehead before they left.

-

The field was full of four kinds of flowers this time. Different ones than before; yellow ones on her left, pink ones in front of her, yellow Tulips on her right, and blue behind her. It was the different meanings of the flowers that struck Julia as odd, rather than the amount

Goldenrods for encouragement. Blue salvia for thinking of someone. Yellow tulips for sunshine. Peonies for healing.

Three of them were flowers that you'd find in a hospital giftshop. Ones you'd pick up on your way to visit a loved on in the hospital. When Naomi was in the hospital, Julia would always bring her yellow tulips instead of the bouquets in the gift shop because her mom's smile lit up the room like sunshine.

It was comforting to see the tulips even when she knew something was wrong.

"Julia Ruth."

Julia looked away from the yellow tulips and saw the beam of sun in front of her. Even with the sun hitting the grass a few feet in front of her, the sky around it was dark and stormy. She could see flashes of lightning here and there and rumbles of thunder in the distance.

"What's happening?" she whispered shakily.

She was scared. The last dream of her angel she had like this was the night after her mom died. At that time, she was surrounded only by yellow tulips and an almost black sky. She had taken a look at the flowers around her and started to bawl. Her angel was there to comfort her.

"What's wrong?"

Was it Sam or Dean? Levi, Beth, or Abby? Her dad? Lydia or Taylor? Who was hurt? Who was dying?

"You're in the hospital," the angel told her.

Julia paled in realization. The peonies, the healing. She was relieved, though, that it was her instead of one of her loved ones.

"You were injured on a hunt. You had a heart attack from the electricity that flowed through your body."

She remembered a little. She had shot the taser at the rawhead as it lunged at Dean. The rawhead lit up like a firework and she heard Dean scream her name but that was all she could recall.

A heart attack at twenty years old. Who would have thought? She always knew that hunting was dangerous and she was mostly likely to die at a young age due to her new lifestyle but it was too soon. She'd only been hunting for seven months.

She sure did draw the short straw, huh?

Julia looked back at the dark gray sky. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

She didn't feel as sad as she thought she would. She knew that Heaven awaited her once she passed and she'd be in paradise. It was her loved ones she felt sad for. Beth, Abby, and Levi would lose their little sister only four years after their mother. Her dad would lose his baby girl, her niece an aunt. And Sam and Dean...with their dad gone, all they had left was each other and her.

Maybe that's why most people were afraid of dying, she mused to herself. Because they know that their death really only affects the people they leave behind.

"You're not dying," her angel proclaimed. "Not today, not from this."

As he finished speaking, Julia's hand went to her forehead where there was a sudden pressure and a jolt of energy that came out of nowhere. She waited to feel it again but the sensation was long gone.

"Julia Ruth."

She hadn't realized that she had zoned out, thinking of the strange sensation on her skin.

She focused back on the sun beam. "Are you here to take me to Heaven?"

"No," her angel said simply. "You are Chosen for a reason."

"What?" Julia wrinkled her nose, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"When you wake, there will be a solution," her angel declared. "We will meet again soon."

-

On the numbered oak door in front of him was a large light-blue sign shaped like a dinosaur skull, a familiar name cut out in the bottom. JONAH. Dean stared at it, perplexed, before looking around at the unfamiliar hallway he was standing in.

The floors were made of white linoleum tiles and the walls were painted a light gray with subway tiles covering the bottom half of them. There were industrial sconces in between the numerous doors that lined the hall. He had no idea where he was. He had never been there before.

Dean turned back to the dinosaur door and cautiously opened it. He slowly stepped into the room, looking around in shock.

It was a nursery. Two of the walls were painted light green, one was the same blue as the sign on the door, and one was covered in a wallpaper with dark blue dinosaurs. The white tiles were covered in a light green area rug with the same blue dinosaurs as the wallpaper. Toys were neatly organized in a toy box in the far-left corner with a rocking chair and a bookshelf next to it. Against the dinosaur wall was a white crib with JONAH painted above it in dark green. On the wall across from the crib was a white changing table that doubled as a dresser.

Why the hell was he in a nursery? What was this place?

A soft cooing noise came from Jonah's crib, startling Dean. He cautiously walked over to it, his eyes widening when he saw that there was an actual baby laying inside of it. Wearing a onesie with a black car on the front, the baby smiled up at him, making a happy noise.

Dean had to admit that Jonah was a cute baby. He had a head full of dark brown hair. His eyes were hazel and his dimples...they were the Winchester dimples. The ones that his dad and Sam shared. A shocked noise came from the back of Dean's throat as the baby wiggled around in the crib, kicking his feet excitedly. Was Jonah his son? Who the hell would he have a son with?

Jonah's face fell when Dean continued to stare down at him in shock. He opened his mouth—his nose wrinkling with a familiarity that Dean couldn't recall—but Dean moved before he could let out a cry.

"Shh..." he cooed to the baby. "It's okay, Daddy's here."

Where the fuck did that come from?

"You gotta be a man about sleeping in your crib, all right?" Dean apparently had no control over his mouth. "You're getting too big to sleep with me and your momma."

Jonah's face smoothed out, happy with the attention his dad was giving him. "Da."

Dean didn't know why but his heart soared with happiness. "Yeah, bud," he smiled down at his son. "I'm your dad."

Jonah fidgeted, one of his curled fists resting against his dimpled cheek. He smiled again and, this time, Dean saw a couple of new teeth popping out of his pink gums.

"If you sleep through the whole night, I'll give you five bucks," Dean dared him. "Can you do that for me and Momma?"

Jonah hummed and Dean grinned. "Good," he answered, satisfied. "Love you, Jonah. Goodnight."

He reached up and turned the mobile over the crib on. Jonah was instantly enraptured by the rotating stuffed dinosaurs, his green eyes lighting up. Dean began to leave the room, switching on the lamp on the changing table, and turning off the overhead light. He took one more look at the nursery before closing the door.

Across from Jonah's door was another room. On the door of number fifteen, there was a sign just like Jonah and Levi's, except it was a red truck with another familiar name carved out in the bottom.

PETER

Maybe this kid was Sam's. Dean opened the door and peeked into the room. It wasn't a nursery like Jonah's room but it still was a kid's room. The light was on already, showcasing the construction theme. The little twin bed was covered in sheets and a comforter with tractors, dump trucks, and cranes all red, yellow, or blue. The walls were a light blue.

On one wall, PETER was spelt out in large red letters. A toy chest was underneath it, along with a dresser and a bookshelf. On the wall across from that was a desk. And on the floor in the middle of an area rug that was designed like a highway, was a freckled blonde toddler wearing pajama pants with lions on them. He wore no shirt and he was playing with Lego set.

"Pete, where's your shirt?" again, Dean didn't know why he was saying anything.

Peter looked up with wide green eyes, identical to Dean's. "Hi, Daddy," he looked very guilty and Dean was instantly suspicious. "Whatcha doing?"

"You're supposed to be bed, buddy," Dean walked over to him and bent down, easily swinging him up into his arms. "Where'd you put your shirt?"

"Momma said I didn't have to wear one," Peter declared innocently before placing a hand on Dean's left cheek. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

"Course I am," Dean assured him; Peter smiled widely, showing off a dimple in his left cheek.

The famous Petersen dimple.

If Dean had any control over his body whatsoever, he might have dropped Peter in realization. He knew three women with those Petersen dimples and one of them was already married with a kid.

So, who did he knock up? Julia or Abby?

As if the universe was answering him, Julia stepped into the room—looking pale, exhausted, and older than her twenty-year-old self—and gave both boys a stern look.

"Peter Samuel, you're supposed to be in bed," she scolded him, placing her hands against her t-shirt clad hips.

And, God, if Dean didn't find that sexy. He'd seen Julia's mom-mode several times before but never had it made him hard like it did now. Was this what happened when you had kids? You get turned on by good parenting?

"Did you say he could sleep without a shirt?" Dean found himself asking her, ignoring the start of his erection in his sweatpants.

Julia rolled her eyes playfully and walked over to them. "Yes," she tickled Peter's bare stomach, making the toddler squeal in delight. "He takes them off anyway. Don't you, sunshine?"

Peter laughed, pushing her manicured hands away from his stomach. "Momma, no!"

Dean's heart soared again and suddenly he was wishing this was real. That he and Julia were together and raising two sons. Two beautiful sons that seemed like great kids. Sons that he already loved with all of his heart.

If this was a dream, Dean didn't want to wake up.

Julia stopped tickling Peter and kissed the boy on the forehead. "You gotta go to sleep or we're not having blueberry pancakes tomorrow."

"No!" Peter whined. "I want them."

"Go to sleep then," Julia dared him with a raised eyebrow. "You know, I heard your dad tell Jonah that he's giving away money to sleep through the night."

"What?"

"Mmhm," Dean hummed. "I guess your brother is gonna have more money in his piggy bank than you..."

"No!" Peter wiggled his legs against Dean's chest, struggling to get down. Dean set him on the floor and he sprinted to his bed. "Okay, I'm sleeping now."

Dean laughed and grabbed Julia's hand, intertwining their fingers. "All right, hotshot. Goodnight."

"Night," Peter chirped, pulling his comforter up to his chin and giving his parents a dimpled smile. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Pete."

"Love you, Peter," Julia promised. "Don't forget that the angels are watching over you."

"Yes, they are!"

Dean and Julia left the room, after turning out the light, and walked down the hallway. Despite the casual way he walked by Julia's side, he was in turmoil. His mom had told him that all the time when he was a kid. The fact that Julia used that same phrase for their son made love swell within his stomach.

God, he wished this was real.

Dean and Julia stopped at room eleven and entered. There were records displayed on one wall, family pictures on the other, and above the king-sized bed was a picture of Dean and Julia of what looked to be their wedding day.

Holy fuck, he married Julia. Since when was he a marriage guy?

"Did you talk to Sam before he went to bed?" Julia asked him, shimmying off the pajama shorts she had been wearing.

"Yeah," Dean answered as he pulled off his shirt.

"And?"

"And he's still feeling a little off," Dean shrugged and then stepped out of his sweatpants. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed tiredly and Dean felt a wave of worry falling over him. "I'm tired and my bones ache a little."

Dean raised his eyebrow. "That's it? I heard you coughing earlier."

"I'll get better, Dean," she assured him, walking over to him and lovingly placing a hand on his cheek. "I was made for this."

Dean grabbed her hand, intertwined their fingers, and bowed his head, his nose grazing against her dimpled cheek. "You were made for me."

What the hell were they even talking about? What was he talking about?

"Yeah, I was," Julia smiled softly and pulled away, looking at him with bloodshot hazel eyes. "Now, are we going to keep talking or are you gonna put me to bed because you look very sexy right now."

Dean chuckled, feeling his cock start to grow once again. "It's because I'm wearing sweatpants, isn't it?"

"It's the sweatpants," she confirmed jokingly.

"Well," Dean kissed her forehead, then her nose, her chin, and then back up to her lips. "Whatever my baby needs," he pressed his hips into her stomach. "What are you thinking tonight?"

Julia sighed against his cheek, her lips trailing across his jaw. "Whatever you want. I just want you."

Dean moaned and reached down to grab her ass, roughly pulling her closer to him. Jesus Christ, he wanted her so bad. He was so hard that he had to remind himself that this was definitely a dream and this was not really him and Julia at all.

Julia's face was overcome with desire and, with a soft moan, she pushed Dean back onto the bed. Dean grinned as she climbed on top of him, straddling his lap and...

"Dean, would you wake up?"

Dean jumped up at Sam's voice, his eyes shooting open.

No, no, no, he thought frantically, seeing that he was back in the motel room in Wyoming. There was no bedroom, there was no Julia, and there were no Peter and Jonah.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes to stop them from filling with tears. That dream...it was a future he wanted to have. An apple-pie life with a couple of kids and his brother at his side. And Julia...she was his wife. His chest filled with grief and longing when he thought about her and those boys.

Julia was dying. She'd never get that life, either.

Sam gave him a weird look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and rolled out of bed; it was seven in the morning and Sam was already at his laptop, doing intense research to find something to heal Julia. "Find anything yet?"

He remembered doing his own research before he went to bed. He found nothing that would be able to help Julia. It frustrated the hell out of him and scared him, too. Maybe that's why he had that dream...He wanted Julia healthy and to live a long life and his head manifested a little family for them.

Yeah, that's what it was.

"I'm looking into something right now," Sam informed him; Dean raised a curious eyebrow. "Abby called and said something about a specialist in Nebraska."

"Like a heart specialist?" Dean wondered; Sam nodded slowly. "Hmm. Well, is Abby almost here yet?"

"I talked to her an hour ago. She said she was only a hundred or so miles away," Sam said. "She's coming from Bobby's place."

Bobby. Dean hadn't seen Bobby Singer in years. Bobby was a family friend that he and Sam stayed with some over the years but when he and John had a falling out, Dean hadn't seen him since. He missed the hell out of that cranky bastard. He was wicked smart and the father figure he should have had in his life.

"Hey," Sam got his attention when his thoughts trailed off. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Dean shook his head to focus. "I'm just, um, I'm worried about Jules."

Sam sighed and stood up, grabbing a white box off the table and bringing it over to Dean. "Me too," he smiled sympathetically before going back to his seat at the table. "Hey...I was thinking that maybe you should call Dad and Luke."

"Why?" Dean scoffed as he opened the box, smiling slightly when he saw the chocolate glazed doughnuts inside. "Neither of them are gonna answer. In her last call, Beth very angrily told me that her dad wasn't answering any of their calls."

"That's what Abby said, too," Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But I think you should try them, anyway. For Julia."

Well, when he put it like that, Dean couldn't refuse. He'd do anything for that stubborn little shortcake.

He called Luke first and wasn't surprised to get his voicemail. "This is Luke Alexander and I am currently unavailable. If this is an emergency, call my daughter, Abby. 630-754-9296. She can help."

Dean scoffed as he ended the call, not bothering to leave a message. His voicemail recording was nearly identical to John's, who didn't pick up, either.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help."

"Hey, Dad, it's Dean," he couldn't help but leave a message for his dad. "I know you probably won't get this but me and Sam need help. It's Julia, Dad. She's really sick and the doctors are saying she's not gonna make it," he sniffed and turned away from Sam, who was watching him carefully. "We're gonna save her, though. Sam, Abby, and I are gonna find something. So, if Luke's with you, you should tell him that she's gonna be okay...All right, just wanted you to know."

As Dean snapped his phone shut and tossed it on his bed, there was a knock on the door. Sam and Dean gave it hesitant looks for a few seconds and there was another knock before Sam got up to open the door.

Abby Petersen's beautiful smile greeted them, her family's signature dimple popping out. It made Dean's heart ache as he remembered Peter's smile.

God, I'm heartbroken over a couple of kids who don't even exist, Dean grumbled mentally.

"Long time no see, Sam. Aren't you all grown up," Abby commented, her eyes sliding up and down Sam's body. Dean grinned at Sam as his cheeks flushed at the down-to-fuck eyes Abby was flashing him.

"God, Abby, it's raining and I'm cold so if you could stop flirting, that'd be great," to Dean and Sam's surprise, Julia appeared behind her older and much taller sister, a disgruntled look on her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Abby rolled her eyes and wrapped her arm around her sister, helping her into the room. Sam took over for her and practically took all of Julia's weight without a problem as Abby shut the door behind them.

"You're supposed to be in the hospital," Dean couldn't help but scold her as he helped Sam sit her down in an empty chair by the table. "What are you doing here?"

"What, are you talking to me now?" Julia grunted in pain as she settled, pulling the hood from her head. She looked worse than the day before; her eyes were darker and there was a large red mark on the left side of her face.

Dean pressed his lips together at her remark, his lips turning down guiltily. He felt so horrible about the way he treated her before and even during the hunt. He felt responsible for what happened; she saved him from the rawhead and he repaid her by not watching her carefully enough. He always hated feeling guilty—it made his stomach hurt. That was the reason why he apologized so quickly when he yelled at Sam or Julia in particular.

"Julia."

Julia grumbled at the warning Abby gave her and answered Dean's original question. "Hospitals freak me out."

Dean's face softened; he grabbed the blanket from his bed and laid it over her lap. It was so strange to see her all bundled up. Usually she ran hot and more often than not, was pushing a blanket away from her. It was kind of lucky, though, since Sam was a cover-hog—so was Dean for that matter.

"Thanks," Julia whispered with a small smile before looking back and forth at the brothers. "Have you guys even slept? You look worse than me."

Dean avoided her eyes as he went to sit on the foot of his bed. Abby joined him, grabbing one of the doughnuts from the box he had forgotten about. As he grabbed the other one, he mumbled, "Had a bad dream."

The only thing bad about that dream was the fact he wasn't in it right now.

"I've been scouring the internet the last twelve hours," Sam informed her, sitting back down in his seat at the table. "And we called every contact in our dad's journal."

Julia gave him a tired yet curious look. "For what?"

"For a way to help you," Abby spoke up before looking over at Sam. "Did you look up that fa—"

"The specialist?" Sam cut her off suspiciously. "Yeah, I did. He's in Gering, Nebraska. Only an hour or two away from here. We should get going, actually..."

"Woah, woah, woah," Julia shook her head weakly. "I don't want to do tests and I don't want to be poked and prodded. Can't a girl die in peace?"

"You're not dying," Dean said gruffly; all eyes turned at him in shock but he stood up and started repacking his bag. "Come on. We're on the road in ten."

-

Dean glared at the tent that he and Sam had driven up to. A large sign was declaring that the preacher, Roy LeGrange, was a faith healer...not a heart specialist like Sam led him to believe. It was bullshit—there were no such thing as a faith healer or miracles like the sign was promising.

"Man, you are a lying bastard," Dean glared at Sam as Abby's Jeep Liberty pulled up in the mud beside the Impala. "You said we were going to see a doctor."

"I said specialist, Dean," Sam corrected him. "It's not my fault you assumed it was a doctor."

Dean rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"Besides," Sam added. "I think Julia would be more comfortable here. She's doesn't like hospitals, especially since—"

"Since Naomi, I know," Dean grumbled, ignoring the thoughtful smile on Sam's face.

He got out of the car and went straight to Julia's side of Abby's Jeep, opening the door for her. To his surprise, and Sam's immense shock, Julia didn't look happy to be here, either.

Sam's face fell. "You don't like faith healers, either?"

"Oh, God, don't," Abby warned them as she came around the Jeep, walking carefully in the thick mud. "She started complaining as soon as she saw that sign."

"Faith healers aren't real!" Julia exclaimed as strongly as she could. "The only person who could heal by faith was Jesus and I doubt that he would go by the name of Roy if he came back already."

Dean snickered as he wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her get down from her seat. He continued to hold onto her when her feet were planting on the ground, knowing that she would need some help to the tent. She was kind of clumsy already but if mud was in the picture, she was done for.

"And I just cleaned these," Julia pouted down at her white converse.

"I'll get you new ones," Sam promised as the four of them started walking toward the tent. "Look, J, this guy is supposed to be the real deal."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Julia muttered bitterly.

An old lady heard her comment. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man," she said indignantly.

"Yeah, keep walking, lady," Dean snapped at her as he helped Julia past a protester, who was complaining about the reverend cheating people out of money, and the cop who was dealing with him. "I take it he's not part of the flock."

"When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam shrugged.

"Come on, Sam, a faith healer?" even Julia didn't want to do this. It was just something that she thought wasn't real. People took advantage of religious phrases sometimes and faith healers were one of those. They used the faith of naïve people to fatten their wallets.

"Jules, Elijah and Paul healed people in the Bible," Abby pointed out.

Julia shook her head. "Those instances were metaphorical," she disagreed. "They didn't physically heal anyone. They healed them spiritually."

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head at her as they got nearer to the tent. "You believe in God and you're a practicing Christian. Why don't you have faith?"

"I do have faith," she snapped at him; it was like Sam wasn't listening to her. "I have faith in God. The fact that I'm actually alive is an example of God's grace, okay? Just because I don't believe in faith healers, doesn't mean that I—"

"Maybe God works through the faith healers," a blonde girl interrupted Julia, giving the four of them a sweet smile. "Fills them with the Holy Spirit like he did with Jesus."

"Interesting thought," Julia humored her. If that's what the girl wanted to believe, fine. She was an absolute stranger and Julia wasn't the type of person to rag on beliefs that were different than hers. The only reason she was having trouble with Sam was because he was only hoping that this guy would magically heal her.

Quite honestly, she thought that Abby and Sam were in denial about the fact that she was going to die. The only reason she got out of the car was because she didn't want to upset them. She wanted to make the transition of her death easier on them, so she'd go along for now.

"I'm Julia," she introduced herself to the girl and then gestured to the others. "This is my sister, Abby, and that's Sam and Dean."

"Layla," she replied kindly. "and I think you'll be surprised by Reverend LeGrange. God works in mysterious ways, you know."

"True," Julia conceded.

"I better get in there," Layla nodded toward the tent as an older lady walked up to her side. "It's starting soon."

As Layla and the older woman walked into the tent together, Dean muttered, "I bet she works in mysterious ways...Ouch, what the fuck, Abby?"

Julia winced at the dirty looks some people in line were giving them. She turned to Dean and Abby, who had whacked him in the back of his head at his nasty comment, and glared.

"We're at a place of worship," she reminded him through gritted teeth.

Dean had the courtesy to look sheepish. "Sorry."

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Abby entered the tent, the latter two looking for seats in the front so Julia would have a better chance of getting picked by the reverend. Dean's eyes wandered around the tent, scoffing when he saw the camera set up in the corner.

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over," he muttered bitterly.

Sam ignored him, as did Julia and Abby, and gestured toward the front of the tent. "Come on."

He grabbed Julia away from Dean's grasp and helped her walk up the aisle to the second row. There just happened to be only three empty seats, so Dean was forced to sit his skeptical ass down in a row toward the back. He and Abby made Julia sit in the aisle seat right behind Layla and her mother.

An old man was led onto the stage, dressed in a nice suit and dark glasses. He was blind but it didn't mean he was helpless. As his wife took a seat at the piano and started to play a welcoming tune, Reverend LeGrange faced the crowd with a kind smile.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," Roy started his sermon. "Never seems good, does it?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act," Roy continued as Julia eyed the strange crosses on the table behind him. There was one in particular that she didn't like the look of—it didn't look like anything she had seen before.

"But I say to you, God is watching!"

"Yes, he is," someone murmured from the row behind them.

"God rewards the good and he punishes the corrupt," the crowd hummed again and Roy went on, "It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Amen, amen!"

"And today, the Lord is guiding me to one heart in particular," Roy announced. "the young lady in the second row, here."

Julia looked away from the strange cross she was trying to place and over to Reverend LeGrange. Abby was nudging her arm excitedly and Sam looked ecstatic that the reverend picked her.

"What's your name, young lady?" Roy asked as Sue Ann stood from the piano.

Julia cleared her throat. "Julia."

"Julia Ruth," Roy stated and her eyes widened in absolute shock. How he would know her middle name was beyond her. Maybe she was wrong about faith healers after all. Maybe Layla had been right. "Julia, I want you to come up here with me."

The congregation started cheering at the reverend's announcement. Julia hesitated. What made her so special that she would be healed before the others in this tent? It didn't feel right.

"I, uh—"

"You came here to be healed, didn't you?" Roy asked expectantly as Sue Ann moved to the middle of the stage to usher Julia to him.

As Abby nudged her harshly, she said, "Yes."

The crowd cheered again, clapping enthusiastically.

"The Lord has chosen you, Julia Ruth," Roy told her.

Chosen. Hadn't she heard that recently?

Sam leaned around Abby to hiss at her, "Get up there."

Julia slowly got up from her chair and walked up to the stage. She didn't know what was going to happen or if she was actually going to be healed but she had to try, at least. She owed it to her loved ones to try.

Sue Ann grabbed her hand as she got to the steps and helped her onto the stage. She made sure she was right where Roy could reach her.

"You ready?" Roy asked her quietly.

"I-I'm nervous," she hesitated, stammering slightly.

"There's no need to be, Julia Ruth," Roy assured her before turning back to the congregation. "Pray with me, friends."

Julia bowered her head to pray as Roy placed his hand on her shoulder. The energy she was reading off of him was nice and pure-intentioned but there was something around the tent that didn't feel right.

She silently prayed to God and her guardian angel, apologizing for not having faith in her bad times like her mother always told her to. She then pleaded for this to work because she couldn't stand to see the sad faces that Sam, Abby, and Dean would give her if it didn't.

"All right, now," Roy whispered. "All right, now."

The hand on her shoulder slid up to the side of her face, right over the bruise on her cheek. Almost immediately, her heart started to race and her knees weakened. Her body broke out into a cold sweat and her vision blurred as she fell to her knees on the stage.

She could hear murmurs from the crowd but she couldn't really focus on them. A weird feeling came over her the more Roy prayed to heal her. It felt cold; it felt like death.

Her vision went black and it was only a minutes later that she woke up. She had passed out on stage, causing Sam, Dean, and Abby to rush up to her to make sure she was all right.

Dean and Abby were asking her something but she couldn't hear what it was. There was buzzing in her ears and her blurry eyes focused above their shoulders where a man stood. As her vision cleared, she saw that he wasn't really a man. He looked more like a spirit—and he was the one giving off the cold energy.

And then the man disappeared.

-

"Abby, I don't feel right," Julia confessed to her sister as they waited for the doctor to come in with her results.

"What?" Abby gave her an alarmed look as she walked over to the bed she was sitting on. "I thought you said you feel okay?"

"I feel fine, that's the problem," Julia sighed.

Something wasn't right about that man that she saw. And, according to Dean, who she asked when they went to get dinner for everyone the previous night, he didn't see a man behind Roy at all. Everything just seemed suspicious to her. It didn't feel right.

"What do you mean?"

"I—"

Before Julia could tell Abby what was wrong, the doctor walked into the exam room. She held a file in her hands, flipping through the results of the tests she had taken to make sure everything was all right with her heart.

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart," the woman told her with a smile. "No sign there ever was—not that a woman your age should be having heart trouble..." her smile fell slightly. "but I've seen heart issues in patients your age before. It's strange..."

"What is?" Abby asked, furrowed her eyebrows.

"Just yesterday, a young guy in his twenties and athletic had a heart attack," the doctor informed them. "Out of nowhere. No previous issues."

Julia was silent for almost the whole way back to the motel, ignoring Abby's tries for conversation. The only reason she spoke was to call Beth and then Levi to inform them that her heart was better. When they got back, Julia went straight to the room she was sharing with her sister, allowing Abby to share the news with Sam and Dean.

She curled up on her bed, facing the bathroom and pulling her blanket up over her head. She felt horrible, absolutely horrible—and it wasn't physically. She honestly did not think it was a coincidence that the same day her heart condition was healed, someone dropped dead in town with the same thing. That didn't occur naturally.

Something was off about this whole faith healing thing and she was pretty sure that it started with the man she had seen behind Roy after he healed her.

"Julia," Sam entered the room; Julia didn't take the blanket off her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She grunted in response, making him sigh.

"Maybe it was a coincidence about the guy, J," he offered. "I mean, people's hearts give out all the time."

"No, they don't, Sam," Julia grumbled.

"I don't understand why we have to look this one in the mouth," Sam grew frustrated. "Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?"

Julia rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Just go away, Sam!"

Sam sighed dramatically and she heard him say something to Abby and Dean that he couldn't through to her. She wondered who would come in next—Abby or Dean? She assumed it would be Abby because even though she didn't like the sappy or touchy-feely thing, she was better at it than Dean.

It wasn't Abby who came in and ripped the blanket off of her.

"Dean!" she huffed when she looked up and saw him standing above her, slipped into the small amount of space between the bed and the outside of the bathroom. "Stop."

"I don't think so, shortcake."

Julia angrily pursed her lips and flipped over, stubbornly facing the other direction. Dean scoffed—whether it was from amusement or frustration, she didn't know—and literally climbed over her onto the side she was facing. He rearranged himself so he was on his side, facing her.

She could see every freckle on his stupid attractive face. She hated to admit it because she wanted to be angry that this had happened but just the sight of him calmed her down. It wasn't fair.

"Tell me what's going on with you, Junior."

"That feeling I had..."

"The one you told me about last night?" Dean recalled. "The cold energy or whatever behind Roy."

Julia nodded, kinda touched that he listened to her ramble on and on. "Dean, it can't be a coincidence about that guy."

"Sam said he didn't see anything."

"Well, he doesn't have the same abilities I do, does he?" she got defensive.

"Hey," Dean gave her a stern look that had her quieting down. "I'm on your side, shortcake. If you saw something, I believe you."

Julia smiled and reached out, poking the cleft of his chin; Dean's eyes widened in response and but he didn't look uncomfortable. "Thanks, D."

"So, what do you want to do?" Dean asked her. "You wanna go visit the reverend?"

"Do you think it would help?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah and I can get Sammy and Abby to look into the guy's death, okay?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna go with you, of course."

-

"So, how are you feeling, Julia Ruth?" Roy asked Julia as she and Dean sat in the seats that Sue Ann offered them in his office.

She wished she knew how he knew that name. The only other person who called her by her first and middle name—other than her parents or siblings when she did something bad—was her guardian angel.

"I'm better," Julia gave Sue Ann a grateful smile as she passed her a glass of sweet tea. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you could answer some questions I have."

"She has this thing where she'll do anything to learn what she can't understand," Dean added as he was passed a glass of sweet tea, too. "She wants to make sense of what happened."

"A miracle is what happened," Sue Ann smiled as she sat in the chair next to Roy. "Miracles come so often around Roy."

Julia smiled, feeling awkward as Roy continued to face her like he was studying her in some way. She knew he was blind but if he knew her middle name, what else could he know about her. "Looks like it."

"When did they start?" Dean asked Roy. "The miracles."

"Woke up one morning, stone blind," Roy shared. "Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh..." he paused. "we prayed for a miracle. I was weak but I told Sue Ann, you just keep on praying."

"My mom used to say that you had to faith in the bad times to see the good times," Julia commented with a fond smile.

Roy grinned. "First Peter, chapter four, verse thirteen: But rejoice in as much you participate in the sufferings of Christ so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."

Julia nodded. "Or Romans, chapter five, verse three: Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance."

"You know your stuff, Julia Ruth," Roy said, impressed. Sue Ann beamed at her as he continued the story about the beginnings of his miracles. "So, anyway, I went into a coma and the doctors said I wouldn't wake up. But I did and the cancer was gone. If it wasn't for these eyes—" he took off his glasses to showcase his dazed eyes. "—no one would believe I ever had it."

"And suddenly you could heal people?" Dean spoke up.

"I discovered it afterward, yes," Roy confirmed as he put his glasses back on. "God's blessed me in many ways."

"His flock just swelled overnight," Sue Ann seemed more concern with Roy's popularity than the so-called miracles. "and this is just the beginning."

Dean nodded slowly, giving Sue Ann a suspicious look.

"Can I ask you a couple more questions?"

"Of course you can," Roy said pleasantly.

"Why did you pick me?" Julia wondered quietly. "Out of all the other sick people, why save me?"

Roy was quiet for a few seconds as he gathered his thoughts. "I knew that you were coming this morning, Julia Ruth," he finally said. "I just woke up and knew that you were gonna be in my tent today and the Lord wanted me to use my power to heal you."

Julia blanched, her eyes widening in shock.

"And when the Lord guided me to look into your heart, I could see why," Roy continued. "You have an important purpose in this life—a job to do that isn't finished. I see the same thing in you, too, Dean."

Dean wasn't expecting that. "You do?"

"Of course, I do," Roy confirmed. "Now, what was your other question, sweetheart?"

"I was wondering how you knew my middle name was Ruth."

"Well, like before I just knew," Roy answered. "God works in mysterious ways."

"Yes, he does," Julia nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you so much for your time."

Sue Ann escorted them out of the house, asking about her biblical knowledge as they went. Julia was just explaining that she was graduating with a double major of religion and linguistics when stepped out onto the porch and Layla and her mother happened be walking up the steps at the same time.

"Dean, Julia, hey," Layla greeted them kindly. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel better," Julia forced a smile, still feeling very conflicted about the whole thing.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked the blonde curiously.

Layla hesitated. "You know, my mom," she explained as her mother stepped past Julia and Dean to talk to Sue Ann. "She wanted to talk to the reverend."

"Layla!" Sue Ann called for the younger blonde.

"Yes," Layla joined her mother on the higher steps. "I'm here again."

"Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting," Sue Ann said apologetically. "He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

"Sue Ann, please," Layla's mother begged. "This is our sixth time, he's got to see us."

"Roy is well aware of Layla's situation," Sue Ann began patiently. "and he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke."

Sue Ann gave her one last smile and placed a supporting hand on Layla's shoulder because walking back into her house. Mrs. Rourke turned around to walk back down the steps, looking very disgruntled.

"Why are you still even here?" Mrs. Rourke asked, glaring at Julia. "You got what you wanted."

"Hey," Dean warned her at the same time as Layla sighed, "Mom, stop."

"No, Layla, this is too much," Mrs. Rourke snapped at her daughter. "We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers—" she glared at Julia. "—over you... I just can't pray any harder."

Julia frowned, looking over at Layla in concern. "Layla, what's wrong?"

Layla inhaled sharply. "I have this thing..."

"It's a brain tumor," Mrs. Rourke elaborated when she paused. "It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say—"

Layla cut her mother off, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Layla assured her.

"No, it isn't," Mrs. Rourke denied, turning back to Julia. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

Julia couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

-

"You're not thinking about what Layla's mom said, right?"

Julia didn't reply to Dean right away, keeping her forehead pressed against the passenger window. How could she not think about what Mrs. Rourke said? It was a valid question, especially since her daughter was only supposed to live for six more months. Julia's life wasn't any more important than Layla's.

"You are, aren't you?" Dean's eyes left the road to look at her; she avoided his gaze. "Julia..."

"Well, she was right," she turned to him; he had looked back at the road but Julia was glad because she didn't want to get into a car accident or look back at her with those green eyes that would get her to spill her guts more than she already had.

She didn't like sharing her negative thoughts. And he was going to bother her about it, she was going to call him a hypocrite—he certainly didn't share what was going on in that head of his.

He didn't bother her about it, though. "You have your iPod?" when she nodded, held out an expectant hand. "Give it."

Julia gave him a strange look but dug it out of her purse, handing it over. He placed it on his thigh and, with one hand, dug into the cubby under the radio where Sam kept their iPod jack. He plugged everything in and kept his eyes on the road as he scrolled through her music.

She couldn't help but smile at the familiar piano intro. And then, when Dean opened his mouth to sing, she giggled.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band..." he sung off tune with but he didn't care; he was doing this to cheer her up. He pointed at her as he continued, "Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man."

There was a stinging in Julia's eyes as she watched him sing loudly for her. She was so touched that he was doing this. Dean always sang along to his music but it was never this kind of music. And this song, her mom's favorite song...

"But, oh, how it feels so real, lying here with no one near, only you—sing along, Jules!" Dean's voice got louder as the music built up. "and you can hear me and I say softly, slowly...all together, now!"

"Hold me closer, tiny dancer!" Julia loudly joined in with him, her smile so large it hurt her mouth. "Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today..."

Her mood dropped when they got back to the motel and Abby and Sam told them what they found out about the guy who had the heart attack the day before.

"Marshall Hall died at four-seventeen," Abby said somberly.

Julia sighed and plopped down at the foot of Sam's bed. "The exact same time I was healed."

"Yeah."

"I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed—six people over the past year—and I cross-checked them with the local obits," Sam spoke up from behind his laptop. "Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptoms LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone dies of cancer?" Dean assumed.

Sam nodded. "Somehow, LeGrange is trading a life for another."

Julia wrinkled her nose, pressure building behind her eyes. Her stomach twisted nauseously. Marshall Hall died to save her. An innocent man was dead because of her. It was like she took a knife and stabbed him in the heart herself.

"You shouldn't have brought me here," she whispered thickly, wiping at her eyes before any tears could fall.

"We didn't know, Jules," Abby moved to sit by her, taking one of her hands. "We were just trying to save your life."

"An innocent man is dead because of me."

"Julia, the guy probably would've died anyway and someone else would have been healed," Sam tried to make her feel better; he didn't. "What I don't understand is how Roy is doing it. How is he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh, he's not doing it," Dean's voice was low in anger. "Something else is doing it for him."

Sam gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"Remember the old man you saw on stage, Jules?" when Dean looked at her, she nodded. "When you told me about it, I didn't want to believe it but deep down I knew."

"You knew what?" Abby wondered. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Think about it, Abby," Dean prompted her. "There's only one thing that can give and take life like that."

Abby inhaled sharply. "A reaper."

Dean nodded. "Exactly."

"You really think it's the Grim Reaper?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No, not the reaper, a reaper," Dean corrected him. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on Earth. They go by a hundred different names. It's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But J said she saw a dude in a suit," Sam reminded him.

"What, you think he should have been working the whole black-robe thing?"

"Sam, the clock stopped," Abby stated. "Reapers stop time and you can only see them when they're coming at you, which is why Julia could see it but not any of us."

"Maybe," Sam still wasn't convinced. He looked to Julia for help but she was staring down at her lap; he could tell by the faraway look in her hazel eyes that she wasn't listening.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," Dean said harshly as Julia focused back in. "The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

"What about that cross?" Julia suggested.

"The one with a circle around the top?" Sam asked; she nodded.

Dean gave them a confused look. "What?"

"There was a weird cross at the church," Sam explained as he pulled a pack of cards off the table, rifling through them. "I knew I had seen it before. Here."

He handed Dean a specific card. Dean looked it over and snorted. "A Tarot?"

"Let me see," Abby left her spot next to Julia to grab the card Dean was looking at. "Yeah, it makes sense. A Tarot dates back to the early Christian era when some priests were still using magic. A few of them veered into dark stuff—Necromancy, how to push death away, how to cause it..."

"So, Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper."

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind," Sam took the card back from Abby. "It's like putting a dog leash on a Great White."

"Honestly, I don't think Roy's doing it," Julia spoke up, earning her three shocked looks.

Abby raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"When Dean and I went to talk to him, I could sense that he was telling the truth," Julia explained. "I think he truly believes that he's the one actually healing people."

"Okay," Sam knew to trust Julia when she spoke up about her abilities. "so, who's doing it?"

Julia looked over at Dean. "The one who seemed more worried about Roy's so-called flock."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Sue Ann."

"The wife?" Abby asked skeptically.

"Even when Roy and Julia were comparing bibles verses, she said only one thing," Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "and it was about Roy's popularity."

"She's got a self-important vibe," Julia added. "What if it's because she's picking people she thinks aren't moral?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Could be."

"Okay, so we stop Sue Ann," Dean declared.

"How?"

"You know how," Dean answered Sam.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Dean?" Sam said incredulously. "We can't kill Roy."

"I agree with Dean," Abby added her two cents. "She's playing God, deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

"We're not going to kill a human being!" Sam protested. "We do that and we're no better than she it."

"Okay, so we can't kill Sue Ann, we can't kill death," Dean sighed, pursing his lips in displeasure. "Any bright ideas, college boy?"

Sam gave Dean a dirty look but rose to the challenge. "Okay, if Sue Ann's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta figure out what it is and how to break it."

-

In the end, they stopped Sue Ann. The reaper was released from her hold and turned the tables back on her, killing her. The only downside of the whole thing was that Layla was just about to be healed and now she wouldn't at all. Finishing the case was bittersweet but in the end, they did the right thing. Sue Ann was playing God and she had needed to be stopped.

Now that everything was done, Abby was taking her leave from Julia and the Winchesters.

"Be careful," Julia pulled her sister into a hug as all four of them stood in the motel parking lot.

"You too," Abby kissed her forehead. "Don't let those boys get you into any more trouble."

"Hey, she does that all by herself," Dean spoke up, sending the sisters an innocent look. "She's a troublemaker."

"True."

"What? I am not!"

"Mmhm," Abby rolled her eyes and nudged Julia's shoulder. "See you in a few weeks?"

"Yeah," Julia confirmed. "Hey, what are you getting Levi? I haven't come up with anything."

"You know how he is," Abby rolled her eyes; their big brother was as serious as they come. He was quiet and he kept to himself, not having many other interests other than work or the gym. "but I'm paying for a year of his gym membership."

"Oh, that's good," Julia pouted, wishing that she would have come up with that. "Well, I'm sure I'll figure it out."

Abby nodded and then turned to Sam and Dean. "Sam, Dean, pleasure to see you two, as always. Take care of my baby sister."

"We will," Sam promised her with a smile. "Bye, Abby."

Abby winked at him, making Dean smirk at his brother, and then smiled at Julia one more time. "Love you, sis."

"Love you, too."

An hour later, in the backseat of the Impala, Julia fell into a deep sleep.

The four types flowers that had filled the field were gone. It was just a grassy field on a sunny day with her sitting in the middle. Julia looked up expectantly, waiting for her angel to make an appearance.

And he did.

"I told you, Julia Ruth. You are Chosen."

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

don’t forget on pride month

[spn-safeandsound]

07. Dynamic Duo

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x11; Scarecrow

Word Count: 9,028

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: Enjoy!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Julia sat in the middle of a large field on an overcast day. It was filled with three different kinds of flowers—honeysuckle, marigold, and violets—all separated into different sections. The white, yellow, and purple flowers formed a circle around her. They reminded her of her mother.

Naomi Petersen had always been a fan of giving her daughters flowers for every holiday and birthday. There were even some days that flowers would randomly be delivered to Julia, Abby, and Beth without a reason other than for their mother to show her love. The three girls would make a game of it, looking up the meanings into the flowers Naomi sent them that day.

Honeysuckle meant bonds of love. Marigold meant despair or grief. Violets meant loyalty and faithfulness.

"Julia Ruth."

Julia looked away from the violets to her right and looked forward to where she heard the man's voice. There was no one in the field with her but the sun had started to shine. It didn't matter that there was no one there, though. She recognized the voice.

"It's you," she breathed, her lips quirking into a small smile. "It's been a long time."

Many times, while Julia was growing up, she'd have dreams like this. She wouldn't always be a field—a few times she had been in an empty classroom at Stanford or on a swing in an abandoned park—but they all had the same voice visiting her to give her guidance.

When she asked her mom about the dreams, Naomi had simply smiled and told her that he was her guardian angel.

"Eight months, five days, and thirty minutes," her angel answered.

The last time he had shown up, she was thinking about transferring to Northwestern to be closer to Beth and Levi. Her angel talked her out of it and she hadn't regretted that choice so far.

"What's wrong? You only show up when I need your guidance."

"Then you should know why I am here."

"Okay, so I need guidance," Julia assumed. "About what?"

"I cannot say much," her angel told her. "Just know that you will soon be facing some trials and tribulations, Julia Ruth."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? What trouble am I facing?"

"Trouble that will test your faith."

Julia scoffed, more confused. She was a faithful person and it took a lot for that to waiver. Even when her mother was dying, she still had faith in God and his angels. Her mother had always told her that having faith wasn't always about the good and happy times but the tough times, too.

"That really cleared it up for me. Thanks."

"Stay true to your faith, Julia Ruth," her angel ordered. "We will meet again soon."

A ringing started blare around the field, making her look around in confusion. Where was that coming from?

The sunlight had started to fade and she stood up.

"Wait!" she called to her angel over the ringing. "Wait—"

Julia groaned as Dean's phone continued to ring, rolling off of her stomach to lay on her side facing Sam. The thing seemed so loud, like Dean had purposefully turned it on full volume just to annoy her.

The phone rang again.

"Phone!" she moaned, squeezing her eyes and burying her face in her pillow.

"Dean."

Julia opened her eyes, about to pick up the phone and whip it at Dean's peaceful face, when Sam wearily grabbed it off the table in between the beds. He flipped it open, his eyes still shut, and lazily pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" there was a pause as whoever was calling Dean spoke; Sam sat up in shock, suddenly awake. "Dad? Are you hurt?"

Julia's eyes widened in surprise and she sat up as well, making sure her tank-top fully covered her breasts.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Sam told his father, glancing over at a stirring Dean. "We didn't know where you were or if you were okay."

Julia studied Sam's face, taking in his eager expression. She was glad that John had called; it had been months—or in Sam's case, years—since the brothers heard from him. They had been so worried.

"Well, we're fine," Sam stated. "Dad, where are you?"

Dean sat up, fully awake, his blanket falling down to his hips to reveal his bare chest.

"What? Why not?" Sam questioned John.

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked Sam. Julia leaned around Sam so he could see her and nodded, silently answering his question. His face lit up.

Sam's face fell in realization at whatever John said. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom...A demon? You know for sure?"

Julia raised her eyebrows at Sam as Dean pulled on the shirt he discarded before falling asleep. So, it was a demon who killed Mary and Jess...she wondered how John figured that out.

"A demon?" Dean leaned forward anxiously. "What's he saying?"

"You know where it is?" Sam said into the phone. "Let us help...Why not?"

Dean reached toward Sam expectantly, irritated with his lack of answers. "Give me the phone."

"Names? What names, Dad?" Sam's face contorted in aggravation. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on?"

Julia bit her lip and clasped her hands together tightly as Sam stiffened, his anger growing as John continued speaking.

"No," he said firmly. "All right? No way."

"Give me the phone!" Dean raised his voice at him. When Sam angrily pursed his lips, looking like he was about to blow a gasket, Dean grabbed the phone away from him. "Dad, it's me. Where are you?"

Julia grabbed Sam's clenched fists as John answered Dean, rubbing her thumb against the back of one of them to calm him down. He always got so angry with his dad; it had been that way for most of his life.

"Yes, sir," Dean agreed to whatever John said, swallowing harshly; he reached for the pen on the nightstand. "Uh-huh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

-

"So, where are you now?" Julia's older sister, Abby, asked through the phone.

"Uh, hold on," Julia leaned forward to look at Dean, who was shockingly sitting in the passenger seat. "Dean, where are we headed again?"

"Some town in Indiana," Dean grumbled back absentmindedly, tapping on the keyboard of Sam's computer to continue his research into the names John had given him.

"We're on our way to Indiana," Julia reported back to her sister.

"Oh, yeah? For what?"

"We have no idea yet," she sighed. "What about you?"

"I'm in Point Pleasant, Virginia," Abby informed her.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't that the town that obsessed with Mothman?"

Abby laughed. "You bet it is."

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"Hunting Mothman."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"No, you're not, Abby. Be serious."

"I'm completely serious, Jules," Abby stated. "I saw it with my own two eyes."

Julia was silent for a few seconds and then, "Are you fucking kidding me?" she almost screeched. "You're legitimately hunting Mothman?"

That caught Dean's attention; he turned around with wide eyes. "Abby's hunting Mothman?"

Julia nodded. "She's hunting Mothman."

"How the fuck did she know that he's actually real?"

"Dean wants to know how you found out he's real," Julia told Abby.

"I went to Point Pleasant because I saw some reports about hearts being missing from some of the recent murders taking place," Abby explained. "I thought it was a werewolf but then I realized that the cycle isn't right."

"Uh-huh," Julia hummed and Dean gave her an expectant look; she held up her index finger. "Go on."

"So, I checked it out, anyway, just in case," Abby continued. "And apparently, one of the newest tours they're giving is telling their customers that Mothman eats hearts."

"Well, how would they know that?"

"They don't, that's my point," Abby said. "Someone messed around and created a Tulpa."

"What's a Tulpa?"

"It's a physical materialization of a thought," Dean told her at the same time as Abby, looking ecstatic. Even Sam stopped his bitch face for a few seconds to look impressed. "Wow, I can't believe she's hunting a Tulpa of Mothman. Tell her to take a picture."

"Dean wants you to take a picture," Julia told her sister, rolling her eyes at him.

Abby laughed. "I'll try my best."

"Be careful, okay?" Julia told her as Dean turned back around to focus on his research again. "Love you."

"You too," Abby echoed her affections. "Talk to ya later."

Julia hummed and hung up her phone, tossing it onto the seat next to her.

"Some people have all the luck," Dean muttered, completely dismayed that they were heading to Indiana instead of Virginia to kill Mothman.

"Well, it's not really Mothman if it's just a Tulpa," Sam pointed out.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam sighed. "All right," he changed the subject, his jaw clenched. "the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?"

Dean nodded. "Three different couples. All of them went missing."

"And they're all from different towns, different states?"

"That's right," Dean confirmed for him. "Washington, New York, Colorado...Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination and none of them were ever heard from again."

"The continental US is huge, though," Julia reminded him. "I mean, what if they just changed their destination?"

"Maybe but each one's route took them to the same part of Indiana," Dean informed her. "Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"This is the second week of April."

Dean nodded at his brother. "Yep."

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"

"Yahtzee," Dean confirmed. "Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different orbits Dad had to go through? The man's a master."

Sam pursed his lips, looking severely annoyed, and pressed on the breaks. He veered toward the shoulder of the road, making Dean give him a confused look.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam declared.

"We're not?"

"No," Sam turned off the engine. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone with a Sacramento area code."

Oh, no, Julia thought. A fight was bound to break out now. Sam hated following John's orders, especially when it had something to do with the thing that killed Mary and Jess—a demon, she reminded herself—and Dean always followed his orders. It had been the cause of many arguments before and it would cause more in the future.

"Sam—"

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be here," Sam cut him off. "We've gotta help."

"Dad doesn't want out help," Dean stated.

Sam turned to face him, retorting, "I don't care."

"He's given us an order."

"I don't care," Sam emphasized slowly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives," Dean reminded his brother, his voice and eyes hardening. "It's important."

"All right, I understand. Believe me, I understand," Sam tried to change his mind. "But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

"All right, look, I know how you feel—"

"Do you?" Sam retorted; Dean gave him a shocked look and Julia's eyes widened. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the fuck would you know how I feel?"

Julia gaped at him, surprised that Sam would say anything like that. "Sam!"

"Dad said it wasn't safe for any of us!" Dean raised his voice back. "I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away."

Sam scoffed. "I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man," he shook his head. "I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good fucking son!"

"Dean!"

God, both of them were idiots.

Sam took the keys out of the starter and opened his door, sliding out of the car. He went straight to the trunk and opened it, grabbing his bags. Julia and Dean both got out of the car at the same time for different reasons—Dean wanted to argue and Julia wanted to stop Sam before he started hitchhiking to California.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean cursed at his brother. "You just do whatever you want. You don't care what anybody thinks."

Sam shrugged on his backpack, glaring at him. "That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California," Sam grabbed his duffel bag and slammed the trunk shut.

"Sam, no, you can't leave," Julia protested, lunging forward to grab his arm as he started walking away; he shrugged out of her hold. "Sam, come on."

Dean scoffed in disbelief as Sam ignored her, continuing to walk away. "You're not serious."

"I am serious."

"Sam, it's the middle of the night!" Julia's eyes started stinging as she watched her best friend walk away from them.

He didn't respond.

"Hey, I'm taking off," Dean warned him loudly. "I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam turned around, clenching his jaw, to answer, "That's what I want you to do."

Dean was quiet for a few seconds and Julia was hoping he'd just apologize so Sam would get back in the car, but he shook his head. "Goodbye, Sam."

"Dean—"

"Get in the fucking car, Julia," Dean snapped at her, pulling the keys from the trunk's lock and walking around to the driver's side. "Let's go."

Julia bit her lip and looked back at Sam with wet eyes, meeting his gaze. He just nodded at the car, knowing that she didn't want to choose. It wasn't like this was going to be forever, anyway—it was just until he found his dad.

"Julia!"

Julia jumped at Dean's exclamation and gave Sam a sad smile before opening her door and sliding back into her seat. He started up the engine as soon as her door closed and pressed harshly on the gas, propelling them forward. Julia didn't look back at Sam; she never walked away from him before and the guilt threatened to swallow her.

-

Burkittsville, Indiana was of the smallest towns Julia had ever seen. It consisted of maybe four or five roads with one restaurant, one general store, and one gas station. She didn't know that if the main part of town was always this dead, but she hoped it was the rain and not their everyday life. There was not a single person in sight.

Dean parked at the side of the road—it was actually more of a paved trail more than anything—and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Julia eyed him hesitantly, watching as he opened the phone and scrolled through his contacts until he stopped at Sam's name.

He hesitated for a second, his thumb hovering over the call button, and then flipped the phone shut.

"You should call him."

In the hours since they had driven away from Sam, Dean had calmed down considerably. In fact, Julia thought that he wasn't mad at all now. He had apologized for yelling at her only thirty minutes after they took off and she could feel the regret coming off of him in waves. She figured that it had more to do with Sam than it had to do with him raising his voice at her.

Dean's green eyes flicked up to hers as he pursed his lips. He shut off the engine and pulled the keys from the starter. "I'm not gonna call him," he stated before getting out of the car. "Let's go."

Julia slid out of the passenger seat and followed him down the sidewalk to the main road, thankful that she had dressed in a navy windbreaker to ward off the rain and slight breeze. "Why don't you wanna call him?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Junior."

Julia glanced at a lady who passed by them with an umbrella, glad that someone actually lived in this town, and then back at him. "Dean."

"Can you just drop it for now?" Dean gave her a firm yet almost-pleading look. "I wanna ask this guy about the people who disappeared."

He pointed to the restaurant they were walking toward; she followed his gaze, spotting an old man sitting outside of a cute little place called Scotty's Café.

"Fine, okay."

They continued walking toward the café, coming to a stop a few feet from where the man was sitting.

"Let me guess," Dean greeted, looking down at the sour-looking man. "Scotty."

Scotty nodded, not looking happy about the fact that they stopped to talk to him.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is—"

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty interrupted his introduction.

Dean looked taken aback by the man's knowledge—as if Zeppelin wasn't a popular band or something. "Wow," he muttered. "Classic rock fan."

Julia pressed her lips together and turned back to Scotty. "I'm Lyla Johnson," she made up a random name, hoping that there wasn't some old celebrity who used to be popular that she didn't know about. "Nice to meet you."

Scotty didn't look impressed with either of them—this time Julia was taken aback. Usually almost every man she smiled at melted at the sight of her. "What can I do for you, Lyla?"

Julia looked at Dean, stumped, and his mouth straightened slightly into a grimace. He pulled out the pictures they had printed of the last victims, Vince and Holly Parker.

"We were wondering if you'd seen these people by chance," he unfolded the papers and gave them to Scotty so he could take a look.

"Nope," Scotty hardly looked at the photos. "Who are they?"

"Vince and Holly Parker," Julia said flatly; the names were the largest things written on the damn pictures. "They're friends of ours. They went missing last year and they passed through somewhere around here."

"We've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

"Sorry," Scotty handed the papers back to Dean. Julia scowled down at him—if this guy interrupts us one more time... "We don't get many strangers around here."

Did Scotty know how suspicious he came off as right now? He might as well have a neon sign above his head proclaiming that he killed the couple himself. His answers were too avoidant and rehearsed.

Julia just did not like his vibe.

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room," Dean stated almost mockingly. "Anybody ever tell you that?"

Scotty's frown never left his stupid face.

"Never mind," Dean chuckled at his own sarcasm. "We'll see you around."

They walked away from the café, heading down the street toward Jorgeson Motors and Jorgeson General Store, which happened to be the town's only store and gas pump. Usually small towns were cute but this one made Julia want to curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out. She would be so bored if she lived here.

"I never want to see that man again," she muttered to Dean, shuddering dramatically.

"If I ever get as grumpy as that old bastard, I want you to shoot me," he agreed with her. "and he definitely knew something."

"Oh, I know," Julia rolled her eyes. "He had the strangest energy, too."

"Like what?"

"It's hard to explain, but," her nose wrinkled as she tried to find words that would make sense. "Okay, you know how Dumbledore's all about the greater good and all that?"

Dean nodded and hummed.

"But he doesn't really care about Harry's well-being as long as he's there to save the wizarding world," she continued. "That's the vibe I got from Scotty."

"Like that little fuckwad from Shrek," Dean understood and quoted the animated movie, "Some of you will die but that's the risk I'm willing to take."

"Yes!" she tapped him excitedly on the arm. "Wow, I can't believe you've seen Shrek!"

"It was on one night while I couldn't sleep," Dean explained as they approached the store; he pulled open the door and stepped back, letting her in before him. "It really shouldn't have been marketed for kids."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"Hi, there!" they were instantly greeted by a chipper older woman that was bundled up in a cozy cardigan. "I'm Stacy, what can I do for you folks?"

"Oh, we were just stopping by for a few minutes to stretch our legs," Dean told her as he snaked an arm around Julia's waist, surprising her. "We're on our honeymoon."

Julia looked at him in shock but changed her expression as Stacy cooed at them. "Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yeah," Julia smiled sweetly at her and grabbed the hand that Dean had resting on her upper hip, pinching him subtly. "We're so in love."

Dean rolled his eyes at her awkwardness and Stacy's smile faltered only a little bit.

"Well," her smile widened again. "Why don't you two take some apple pie for your trip? It's on the house."

Dean was very, very tempted by the offer for pie but he had to focus. Especially if Julia was going to act like an idiot who had never been in a relationship before.

"Actually," he pulled out the photos of Vince and Holly Parker, showing them to her. "we were wondering if you've seen our friends lately. They went missing about a year ago and we know they went through here..."

Stacy's smile instantly slipped from her face. A man walked out of the back room, then, slipped around the counter to see what was going on.

"What about who?" he asked curiously, though he seemed a little nervous.

"We're looking for some people," Dean handed him the photos. "Have you seen them?

The man studied the papers and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Really?" Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. Everyone they had seen so far were acting so suspicious and sweet old Stacy flipped her tune real quick. "You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?"

"Nope, don't remember them," the man confirmed. "You said they were friends of yours?"

"Best of friends," Julia nodded sweetly. At least her smile worked on him. "Holly and I grew up together."

A young blonde girl, around Julia's age, walked out from behind the counter carrying a stack of printed boxes. "Did the guy have a tattoo?"

"Yeah, he did."

The girl took the papers from the man. "Don't you remember, Uncle Harley?" she asked him. "They were just married."

"Oh, you're right, Emily," Harley suddenly remembered. "They did stop for gas. Weren't here for more than ten minutes."

God, these people needed acting coaches, Julia thought, how many people in this town are gonna cover for a couple of disappearances?

Clearly something was going on here and it wasn't just because the man all of a sudden remembered a couple just because his niece did. Julia got the same vibes from Harley and Stacy that she got from Scotty.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You remember anything else?

"I told them how to get back on the interstate," Harley gave the papers back to Dean. "They left town."

"Can you point us in that same direction?" Dean wondered.

Harley nodded. "Sure."

-

Julia frowned at the apple orchard in front of them. It had to be the creepiest little orchard, ever—the apple trees looked like they came out of a Tim Burton movie, some of the grass was dead, and the only thing that had color in the whole area were the apples on the ground and in the trees. It wasn't even apple season, so how the trees had apples to begin with, she didn't know.

They were driving down the interstate in the direction that Harley sent them when all of the sudden, the EMF meter started lighting up and buzzing. It had come out of nowhere so Dean had pulled over. Of course, because she was that lucky, the EMF led them to the orchard.

If she could guess what was making the EMF go off, it'd be the creepy ass scarecrow propped up in the middle of the orchard.

"What crows eat apples?" she muttered as she and Dean slowly walked toward the scarecrow. "Apples aren't even in season, Dean."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered bitterly as he looked up at the scarecrow. None of the pieces of apple pie he had recently were very good. Fall was the peak apple pie season. "Dude, you are fucking ugly."

Julia rolled her eyes and blanched when she saw that the scarecrow had a scythe in its hand. "Why the hell would a scarecrow be armed with that?"

Dean hummed, his eyes searching the scarecrow up and down. He paused a little when he spotted something that looked familiar on the arm with the scythe. He turned to the ladder next to the closest apple tree and picked it up, bringing it back over to the scarecrow.

Julia grimaced as he climbed the ladder, hoping that the thing wouldn't suddenly come alive and slice his head off. That would be horrific for everyone involved.

Dean reached toward the arm he wanted to get a closer look at and pulled by the sleeve. "You see that?" he asked Julia, nodding at the tattoo on the scarecrow's arm. "It's the tattoo."

Julia stood on her tip toes to get a better look. "The same tattoo as Vince Parker."

Dean pursed his lips and crawled down the ladder. "The very one."

They got into the Impala and drove back to Burkittsville, deciding that they needed to question the girl that seemed to be the only one who was telling the truth in the whole town.

"Okay, so, a couple goes missing every year around the same time like clockwork in the same place," Julia hummed, resting her head against the passenger window. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Dean nodded. "Human sacrifice."

"Yep," Julia sighed and lifted her head to look at him. "So, I'm thinking a Pagan or Norse god."

Dean glanced at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in that stuff?"

"I believe that different types of gods exist," Julia shrugged. "I'd be ignorant not to, especially when my dad has had run-ins with a couple of them."

The most notable story she heard from her dad was the Trickster run-in, of course.

"But you're a Christian."

"Because I believe that my God is the main God," Julia explained. "With a capital 'G'. The one who rules over the universe."

"Hmm..." Dean nodded thoughtfully as they rolled back into the town limits. "So, you believe in Evolution?"

Julia laughed. "Yes, Dean, I believe in Evolution."

Dean sighed in relief. "Thank the lord you're not a kook."

She shook her head, smiling fondly. "Thanks, D. I appreciate it."

"No problem, shortcake."

There was a red SUV parked outside of Jorgeson Motors when they approached. Dean pulled off to the gas pump at the side of the road. To their immense luck, Emily was already outside the shop.

"You're back," she greeted them kindly as they got out of the Impala.

"Never left."

"You're still looking for your friends?" she buried her hands in her red hoodie.

Dean nodded as Julia leaned against the car. "You mind filling her up, there, Emily?" she nodded and grabbed the hose from the pump, inserting it into the tank. "So, you grow up here?"

"I came here when I was thirteen," Emily told them. "I lost my parents to a car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Julia gave her a sympathetic smile; Emily gave her a grateful look. "Your aunt and uncle were nice."

Well, they were until they mentioned the missing people, anyway.

"Everybody's nice here."

"So, what, it's the perfect little town?" Dean asked skeptically.

Emily didn't catch his tone. "Well, you know, it's the boonies," she shrugged. "but I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here? It's almost like we're blessed."

Julia raised her eyebrows. Blessed. Ripe apples in early spring, a scarecrow, a couple sacrificed every year, and a town that seemed to flourish in a recession? Something tugged on the back of her mind but she couldn't remember what the exact information was.

"Hey, have you been out to the orchard?" Dean asked her suddenly; Emily nodded. "You seen the scarecrow?"

Emily scoffed softly. "Yeah, it creeps me out."

"I thought I was the only one," Julia chuckled in comradery. "Do you know who owns it?"

"I have no idea," Emily shrugged. "It's just always been there."

Julia nodded in understanding as Emily took the hose from the tank and put it back in the pump.

"Is that your aunt and uncles?" Dean gestured to the red SUV with his head.

Emily shook her head. "A customer's," she corrected him. "had some car troubles."

"It's not a couple, is it?" Dean asked hurriedly. "A man and a woman?"

Emily nodded in confirmation.

"Are they around?" Dean hesitated before continuing, "eating at Scotty's, maybe?"

"It's the only restaurant in town," Emily told them like it wasn't obvious. "Famous for their apple pie."

They paid for the gas and thanked Emily for her help before making an excuse to stop into Scotty's Café. The couple were the only people in the café when they arrived, besides Scotty, who was serving them two plates of warm apple pie.

"Hey, Scotty," Dean greeted the older man like a friend—if that friend was a guy who was most likely sacrificing a couple each year for some god. "can we get a black coffee and a sweet tea?"

Scotty gave them an unhappy look as they walked over to one of the empty tables next to the couple.

"Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it?" Dean called to Scotty before he could disappear into the kitchen. If it was any other server than Scotty, Julia would have scolded him for being so rude.

Julia nudged him in the back, silently urging him to sit down. She took the chair facing with the back facing the kitchen and Dean took the seat to her left.

"How ya doing?" he greeted the couple casually. "Just passing through?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically. "Road trip."

"Yeah, us, too," Dean hummed.

Scotty emerged from the kitchen with a pitcher of cider. He walked over to the couple's table and refilled their glasses. When he finished, he gave Dean a stern look. "I'm sure these people want to eat in peace."

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean said innocently while Julia narrowed her eyes into a glare. "Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks."

"So," Julia spoke up, flashing the couple a smile in an attempt to counter Dean's enthusiasm. "what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas," the woman told her. "The guy at the gas station saved our lives."

She raised a curious eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking," the guy stated. "We had no idea. He's fixing it for us now."

"Nice people," Dean cocked his head suspiciously; the man nodded. "So, how long until you're up and running?"

"Sundown."

"Really? To fix a break line?" the man nodded at Dean's question. "Well, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."

The man wrinkled his nose and turned to his wife for help. The woman fixed Dean with a polite, if not a little standoffish, smile. "You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it."

"Sure," Dean smiled slightly in agreement and paused, leaning in a little toward their table. "You know, it's just that these roads, they're not real safe at night."

"I'm sorry?"

Julia got the sense that they were creeped out now. "He means any roads at night," she rolled her eyes in amusement and sent them a friendly smile. "He's a bit of a safety nerd. Hazards of being a traffic cop, right, babe?"

She was getting a little better at this couple talk, Dean admitted to himself, a lot less awkward than before. He backed off of the couple at her pointed glare and straightened in his seat. When he saw that the couple had gone back to eating and not looking at him like he was a weirdo, he sighed.

"You and Sam gotta teach me that puppy-eyed look," he grumbled, picking up a sugar packet from the middle of the table.

"You wouldn't be able to master it," she told him quietly, her lips pulled up into a smug smile. "It's the brown eyes and dimples. You stick to that charming smile, huh?"

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her.

"Thanks for coming, Sheriff," Scotty spoke loudly from the counter as the door to the café opened. A man, who Julia guessed was the town's only police officer, walked into the restaurant. He crossed the room and spoke quietly with the man.

Julia and Dean shared a look as the sheriff walked over to their table.

"I'd like a word, please," the man requested stiffly.

"Actually, we were just leaving," Julia stood up and pushed her chair in; Dean followed her lead, glaring at the man. "So, unless you have probable cause to detain us legally, we'd like to get out of town before dark."

The sheriff's face hardened considerably but Julia and Dean walked past him and out of the restaurant. As they drove out of town, he tailed them to make sure they wouldn't come back.

Dean looked in the rear view, where he could still see the cruiser, and chuckled quietly.

"What?" Julia asked him curiously.

"That was badass back there," he told her. "How'd you know all that?"

"Beth's a lawyer remember?" she reminded him. "I used to help her study for her finals."

"So, you know all that legal bullshit?"

"Not all of it but, yeah," she shrugged. "I know some."

"Not gonna lie, Jules, that's kinda sexy."

Julia sighed in amusement when he smirked at her. "Oh, Dean...what are we gonna do with you?"

-

"Have you found anything yet?" Dean groaned from his bed, lazily turning his head toward the table where Julia sat with her laptop, researching Pagan gods.

After the sheriff stopped following them out of town, they waited at the orchard for the couple they met at the restaurant. Both of them had a pretty good idea that their car was gonna break down right around there and they would be the god's yearly dinner. They happened to be right; a half-hour after the sun set, they spotted the red SUV come to a stop at the side of the road in front of the orchard.

After saving the couple, they drove them to the nearest town, Scottsburg, and told them to make sure that they stayed out of Burkittsville. The couple and Julia and Dean got rooms at the same motel and in the morning, Dean went back to the orchard with the man and fixed up their SUV so they could get the hell out of dodge.

So, now Julia was stuck in the room with a miserable Dean, researching different fertility gods that could be animating the scarecrow.

"Maybe if you helped me..." she hinted flatly.

"That's not how this works, shortcake," Dean sighed, rolling onto his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed. "I'm the muscles, you're the brain."

"What's Sam, then?"

"When Sam was with us you were the beauty and he was the brains," Dean answered simply, his green eyes dimming at the mention of his brother. "You wanna watch a movie? Let's watch a movie."

"Dean," Julia sighed as he turned on the television.

"Oh, look, Forrest Gump is on," Dean said to avoid the conversation he just knew she wanted to have. "You're a Tom Hanks fan, right?"

"Well, yeah, but—" she paused, not allowing herself to become distracted. "No, you're not gonna distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you."

"Sure, you aren't."

"What do you want me to say?" Dean huffed, jumping off the bed to start pacing the length of the room. "That I was a jackass to my little brother? I already know that."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dean," Julia crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Dean gave her a doubtful look. "What were you gonna say then?"

"I was gonna say that you're an idiot," Julia told him; when he sent her a glare, she continued, "but so is Sam. You guys have conflicting personalities so it's not a surprise that you guys rub elbows sometimes."

"That's what brothers do," he crossed the room, feeling a little better that she called Sam an idiot too, and sat in the chair across from her.

"I know that. I'm just saying...just because you fight doesn't mean that you'll never see him again," she smiled at him. "Even when we were at Stanford, Sam talked about you all the time. You do the same thing."

"I do not," Dean grumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink with embarrassment.

"Yeah, you do," she said matter-of-factly. "When we met up for your birthday last year you asked about him before you even said hi."

"Well, that's—"

"And then you asked me whether or not he was doing well in school," she smirked at him. "and you didn't want to go near my apartment because you didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable."

Dean pressed his lips firmly together, looking uncomfortable with what she was saying.

"And that's okay, Dean," she leaned forward and reached across the table, placing her hand on his right fist. "You raised Sam and with your dad gone right now, he's your only blood left."

The corners of his lips quirked, making the dimples above them pop out. "I miss him, okay?" he admitted. "And I feel like absolute shit for what I said to him."

"So, call him," Julia urged, taking her hand back and nodding at his phone he left on the table when they entered the room earlier that morning. "Tell him what's going on."

"How about you tell me what you found, first," Dean grinned crookedly. "and, then, I will give him a call."

"Okay," she instantly gave in. "So, I did some research about gods of fertility."

"As in...?"

"No," Julia denied quickly and moved on, "I mean like crop fertility and all that stuff. There's different gods in different cultures. In Norse mythology, there's Thor and Freyr, in Greek mythology it's Aphaea and Demeter, in Roman mythology it's Robigus."

"Okay, so that's why there's apples in spring," Dean guessed. "and why the town is still in business while everything around it dies."

"Exactly," Julia nodded. "and at the basis of fertility, whether it's agricultural or reproductive—"

"A sacrifice of a male and female," Dean finished for her. "So, you were right about Scotty. He's Farquaad."

"Yep," Julia typed into her computer, looking at the address of an ideology professor at a local college. "I emailed a local professor and asked him if he had time to answer some questions. We're meeting with him at two."

"Good work, shortcake. You're getting better at this," Dean tapped the table for emphasis. "Come on, we have time for lunch."

"And for you to call Sam," she reminded him, standing up to grab her Stanford crewneck to slip over her head.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

After they stopped for lunch, they started heading toward the local community college located on the other side of Scottsburg. While driving, Dean called Sam and was surprised that he actually answered. He quickly gave him the rundown of what happened with the couple the night before, causing Sam to pause for a few seconds.

"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" he asked in shock.

"Yeah, I'm telling ya," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun town."

"It didn't kill the couple, did it?"

"No, we can cope without you, you know," Dean shot the phone an annoyed look but Julia knew that he wasn't annoyed at all. She could tell by the gleam in his green eyes.

"So, something must be animating it," Sam said thoughtfully. "A spirit, maybe."

"We think it's more than that," Julia spoke up, glad that Dean put the call on speakerphone. "It might be a Pagan god."

"What makes you say that?"

"The annual cycle of the killings and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman—like some kind of fertility rite," Dean explained. "And you should see the locals and the way they treated this couple. They were fattening them up like a Christmas turkey."

"The last meal," Sam offered. "Given to sacrificial victims."

"We're thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god."

"The god animates the scarecrow and the scarecrow takes its sacrifice," Julia stated. "For another year, the crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."

Sam hummed. "Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"Not yet but I think I've narrowed it down a little," Julia sighed. "We have an appointment with a professor at a local community college."

"We wouldn't have to go if we had the brains of the team back," Dean hinted.

Sam caught it and laughed lightly. "You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask."

"I'm not hinting anything," Dean lied and then hesitated, looking over at Julia; she nodded encouragingly. "Actually, uh...I want you to know—I mean, I don't think that—"

"Yeah," Sam took mercy on Dean's inability to express his emotions outright. "I'm sorry, too."

"Sam, you were right," Dean admitted. "You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

"Are you serious?" they could hear the surprise in his voice.

"You've always known what you want and you go for it," Dean said seriously. "You stand up to Dad and you always have. Hell, I wish...anyway, I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

Julia smiled and turned her head to look out the window, her eyes filling with tears. She was such a sap. She was one of those people who were cursed to cry when they were sad, happy, and angry. It made it hard to have a serious argument when you suddenly burst into tears—she knew that from experience.

Sam was kind of speechless at Dean's confession. "I don't even know what to you say."

"Say you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," Sam promised.

"Call us when you find Dad."

"Call us if you don't," Julia added, swallowing thickly to hide her tears.

Both Sam and Dean knew that she was crying. They all knew each other way too well.

"Okay," Sam said quietly, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Bye, Dean. Bye, J."

-

"It's not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology," Professor Jenkins stated as he led Julia and Dean to his office.

"Well, we're in our last semester at Stanford," Julia told him. "We're partnered on a thesis about how Christianity took over the trend of Pagan ideals and practices."

"But you said you were interested in local lore?" he gave her an interested look.

She nodded with a dimpled smile.

"Well, I'm afraid that Indiana isn't really know for its Pagan worship," Professor Jenkins said apologetically.

"Well, what if it was imported?" Dean spoke up. "You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Like the town near her, Burkittsville," Dean added. "Where are their ancestors from?"

Professor Jenkins pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Uh, northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia."

"So, the Norse gods," Julia hummed.

"There are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"We're actually looking for one," Dean told him. "It might live in an orchard."

"Woods god, huh?" Professor Jenkins turned down a short hallway and opened one of the two doors. He let them into his office and walked right over to a large book on Pagan ideology that he took out ahead of their appointment. "Well, let's see."

Professor Jenkins leafed through the pages carefully. Dean stopped him when he saw a drawing of a scarecrow in the middle of a flourishing field. "Wait, wait, what's that one?"

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se..."

Dean squinted as he read the title of the chapter. "The V-Vanir?" Professor Jenkins nodded and he read on, "The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male and one female..."

"Freyr is a Vanir," Julia supplied. "and so are Freya, Odin, and Thor..."

"Correct," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"Do you know if Freyr took human sacrifices?" she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I-I'm not sure."

Dean pointed to the Vanir on the page. "Looks like a scarecrow, doesn't it?"

"Well, I suppose," Professor Jenkins chuckled awkwardly.

Dean continued to read, "This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree."

"Well, Pagans believe all sorts of things were infused with magic."

"So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

"Son, these are just legends we're discussing," Professor Jenkins laughed slightly. "I thought your thesis is on Pagan ideals and practices?"

"It is," Julia nodded with a grateful smile. "Professor Jenkins, thank you so much for your help."

Professor Jenkins shook the hand Dean was offering. "My pleasure."

The two of them went to leave the office. When Julia opened the door, the butt of a gun was forced against her forehead, instantly knocking her out.

-

When Julia came to, she was being tied to an apple tree.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned loudly, glaring up at Harley and Stacy, who were finishing up her ropes. "I am not about to be sacrificed when apples aren't even in season!"

"You don't have to worry about that for much longer," Stacy hushed her with a harsh glare.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" she heard Dean ask. She whipped her head to the right and saw that he was being tied to his own tree a couple feet away from her. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the sheriff defended him and his neighbors.

"Oh, and accessory to murder is so much better?" Julia scoffed, wincing as Stacy harshly tightened the ropes around her wrist. "Take it easy, grand—"

She was slapped before she could even finish her warning. "Son of a bitch!"

"You okay, Jules?" Dean called as Stacy and Harley backed away from her tree.

"I'm peachy, Dean."

"Good," he turned his attention back on the sheriff. "How many cars have you hidden or clothes you've buried?"

"That's none of your concern," the sheriff spat.

The four elders started walking away from their trees, toting their shotguns with them.

"I hope your apple pie is fucking worth it!" Dean shouted after them.

A half-hour passed as they were stuck there, the sun starting to set. There was still a little bit of light left in the sky when Emily appeared. She pressed her finger to her lips at the confused looks they gave her, telling them to be quiet as she carefully walked over to them.

She knelt in front of Dean, pulling a pair of scissors out of her sweater pocket.

"You didn't know anything about this, did you?" he asked her as she started sawing at the thick ropes wrapped around his wrists.

"The scarecrow god?" she scoffed quietly. "No. I overheard my aunt and uncle talk about it earlier. They said they were gonna use you guys as the sacrifices."

"Thanks for helping," Julia sighed gratefully as Dean pulled his wrists, snapping through the rest of the rope.

"What's the plan?" Emily asked her and Dean.

"We can destroy the scarecrow but we gotta find the tree."

"What tree?"

"It would be really old," Dean explained. "The locals would treat it with a lot of respect. You know, like it was sacred."

Emily thought for a few seconds before her eyes lit up in realization. "The First Tree."

"What's the First Tree?" Julia wondered as Dean ran over to her and started freeing her from her ropes.

"It was an apple tree that the immigrants brought over with them," Emily told her. "It's somewhere around here."

"Okay," Dean broke through Julia's ropes, helping her to her feet and gently brushing a thumb over her black eye. "We'll focus on that tomorrow. For now, we gotta get the fuck out of here."

The three of them paused when they heard footsteps coming their way.

"Oh, my God," Emily breathed fearfully, afraid that it was the scarecrow. "Oh, my God."

"Dean? Julia?"

"No, thank God," Julia corrected her with a sigh of relief as Sam walked around a couple of apple trees, appearing before them.

"Oh, I take everything back!" Dean exclaimed, grinning at his brother. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Sam, how'd you get here?" Julia grinned at him.

"I, uh—I stole a car," he admitted sheepishly.

Dean laughed. "Oh, that's my boy!"

"Guys," Emily spoke up worriedly. "Maybe we should get out of here."

"Keep a lookout for the scarecrow," Julia warned Sam. "It could come alive at any second."

Sam gave her a confused look. "What scarecrow?"

Dean rushed around the tree where Julia had been tied up, looking for the scarecrow. It wasn't on its post.

"Fuck," he cursed harshly before turning back to Sam, Julia, and Emily. "All right, let's get the hell out of here."

While they started running through the orchard, Dean told Sam how to kill the scarecrow and stop the sacrifices.

"All right," Sam breathed. "this sacred tree you're talking about—"

"It's the source of its power."

"So we find it and burn it," Sam stated casually.

"In the morning," Dean insisted. "Let's shag ass before Leatherface shows up."

The four of them turned into another row of apple trees and stopped in their tracks when they came face-to-face with Harley and Stacy.

"This way," Dean urged, moving to the left.

Behind him, Scotty cocked his shotgun. On the two other sides were the sheriff and Professor Jenkins, both with large guns aimed at them. A soft growling approached them, causing Emily and Julia to back into Dean and Sam.

"Please, let them go," Emily begged her aunt and uncle.

"It'll be over quickly," Harley assured her. "Emily, you have to let it take them. You have to—"

Harley grunted as the scarecrow's scythe impaled itself through his heart. Stacy screamed loudly, the others scattered, and Emily turned away. Her aunt was next on the scarecrow's list; he grabbed her around the neck, impaled his scythe in the back of Harley's leg and dragged them both off back into the middle of the orchard.

-

The next afternoon, Julia, Sam, and Dean saw Emily off on a bus leaving to Boston, Massachusetts. They had found the First Tree earlier in the morning and it was Emily, herself, that lit it on fire.

Julia was very impressed with the girl and her bravery. Not many normal people would risk their life to save a couple of strangers from being sacrificed. Especially when it was for the good of the town they lived in and loved. Emily was a genuinely good person and Julia wished the best for her.

As the bus drove off, Sam sighed, "Think she's gonna be all right?"

"I hope so," Dean stated, staring after the bus.

"And the rest of the people, they'll just get away with it?"

"They'll be punished enough when their whole town burns to the ground around them," Julia muttered bitterly; the brothers gave her a hesitant look, reminded of when she suggested burning down the whole orchard just in case. "Metaphorically, of course."

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her. "You little pyromaniac."

Julia winked at him.

They started walking back to the Impala. "So," Dean started, looking over at his brother. "Can I drop you off somewhere?"

"No," Sam scoffed lightly. "I think you're both stuck with me."

Dean raised his eyebrows as he stopped by his door. "What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still want to find Dad and you're still a pain in the ass," Sam chuckled and paused briefly. "But, Jess and Mom are both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and Julia—you're the only people I have left."

Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, remembering her saying something almost exactly like that the day before. She was smiling cutely at the ground, her dimple on display. He was sure there were probably tears in her eyes.

"So," Sam sighed and Dean looked back at him. "if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

"Sam!" Julia sniffed and lunged toward the brothers, wrapping them into an involuntary hug. Dean had been right about her tears; they were currently soaking Sam's sleeve. "That was so beautiful. You should write a book of poems or something."

Dean laughed. "You could call it The Somber Sonnets of Sam Winchester."

"Ha-ha," Sam muttered sarcastically, removing a giggling Julia from around him. "You both should be kissing my ass, by the way. You guys were dead meat."

"Emily saved us long before you did, dude," Dean pointed out. "You got there just for the ending."

"He's right."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure, he is."

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

06. Strong Abilities

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x09; Home

Word Count: 9, 163

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Julia loved blue and purple. The bands that she used to tie up her hair were royal blue. Her toothbrush was turquoise. Her hunter's journal was navy. Her luggage was dark purple. Her favorite sundress was lavender. Her sexiest bra was lilac.

So, it made sense that her absolute favorite color was periwinkle—the perfect shade of blue and purple together. The problem was that it was hard to find anything that came in periwinkle and that frustrated the hell out of her. So, when she saw a bottle of periwinkle nail polish at the store when they went to pick up some supplies, she got three bottles. Sam had given her an incredulous look but she very pointedly ignored it.

She was just finishing up the second coat on her nails when Dean spoke up from the other side of the table, having done a search for cases all morning.

"All right, I've been cruising some websites and I think I found a few candidates for our next gig," he told her and Sam, who was sitting on his bed sketching. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali. Its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas."

Julia hummed. Calf mutilations? Lovely.

"Hey," Julia looked up when Dean spoke but he was looking at Sam, who didn't seem to be paying attention. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No, I'm listening," Sam assured him while continuing to draw. "Keep going."

"And here, in Sacramento man shot himself in the head three times," Dean held up three fingers at his brother but when Sam didn't look up, he waved for his attention. "Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?"

Sam didn't answer as he flipped back to the other drawings he had sketched, so Julia shrugged, "I think the last one is interesting."

Dean nodded, satisfied that she had answered him at least. "I guess we're going to Sacramento then, shortcake."

Julia gave him a small smile and screwed the periwinkle top back on the bottle of the polish before grabbed the clear coat, brushing it on her nails. She was getting better with Dean after all that happened in St. Louis with the shifter that took his face. It was slow-going but it took about a month until they were mostly back to normal. The usual things he did, like poking her dimple or patching up her injuries were done with hesitation but he slowly got back to the regular intervals. She returned the favor by tapping him on the back or playfully punching his bicep. She still had nightmares but they were getting better, especially since things were getting better with Dean.

"Wait, I've seen this," Sam declared when he turned to his very first drawing of the same old creepy tree.

Dean gave him a weird look. "Seen what?"

Sam rolled off his bed and walked across the motel room, digging into his duffel bag. He pulled John's journal out of it and slapped it down on Dean's bed so he could go through it.

"Sam, is something wrong?" Julia asked, sensing that something was off about him. He was jumpy and kind of frantic as he searched through the photos in the front flap of the journal.

Sam absentmindedly nodded and finally pulled out a picture, comparing it to the notepad he had sketched on. He turned to Dean with wide eyes. "Dean, I know where we have to go next."

Dean eyed him curiously. "Where?"

"Back home. Back to Kansas."

Dean scoffed. "Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"

"All right, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam handed the picture he took from the journal and handed it to Dean; the photo was of Dean and Sam when they were a child and a baby, respectively, with their dad and their mother, Mary. "The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah..."

"And it didn't burn down, right?" Sam went on quickly. "I mean, not completely. They rebuilt, right?"

"I guess so," Dean looked a little overwhelmed at Sam's questions. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, look," Sam sat at the seat in the middle of Julia and Dean. "this is gonna sound crazy but the people who live in our old house? I think they might be in danger."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Why do think that?"

"Uh...it's just...um," Sam grimaced nervously; Julia instantly knew that he had been keeping something from them—something important. "you guys have to just trust me on this, okay?"

"Sam, of course we trust you," Julia gave him a concerned look as he jumped up and crossed the room, starting to pack his bag. She really hoped that she didn't sound condescending because she didn't mean to. She was genuinely worried about him.

"Woah, hold on," Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. "I think you gotta give us more of an explanation than that."

"I can't," Sam shoved his phone and laptop charger in his bag after he was done with his clothes.

"Well, tough," Dean got up to walk over to him. "I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Sam sighed heavily and paused his packing, turning to face him. "I have these nightmares..."

Dean nodded. "I've noticed."

No kidding, Julia thought. There had hardly been a night that she wasn't woken up by Sam's tossing and turning while he had his nightmares. She didn't blame him, of course, because she had her fair share, too. She just wished their bad dreams would sync up so they wouldn't wake each other up at different times.

"And sometimes they come true," Sam dropped a bomb.

Okay, that was unexpected. He had never given any hint that he was experiencing visions. She honestly wondered what it was like; she didn't see the things she knew, she just knew them.

"Come again?"

"Look, Dean," Sam sighed at Dean's look of disbelief. "I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened."

That would explain why he had said that Bloody Mary would come after him. He wasn't to blame but if he actually thought that it was his fault Jess died because he didn't do anything about the nightmares he had, the spirit would have gone after him. And it did.

"Sam, some people have weird dreams," Dean tried to explain, sitting at the end of his bed. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything," Sam elaborated. "and I didn't do anything about it cause I didn't believe it. Now, I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this had to mean something, right?"

Dean bowed his head, shaking it slightly. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean?" Sam sat on the bed across from him. "This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

Julia watched the brothers silently, not knowing what to say or whether she had a right to say anything at all. The air in the room was tense, making her spine stiffen, and both Sam and Dean were getting riled up. Sam was urgent; he wanted to go to Kansas and he wanted to go now. There was nothing that was going to change his mind. From the set of his shoulders, Julia could tell that Dean was struggling with the concept of returning to the only home he ever really had. He was just as sensitive about Mary Winchester's death as John was and he mourned her every day.

"All right, just slow down, would you?" Overwhelmed, Dean snapped at him, standing up to walk toward the table to get some space from his brother. "I mean, first you tell me you've got the Shining and then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when..."

Dean cut himself off sharply, his breath hitching. Julia felt her heart ache at the despair that practically wafted off of him.

"When what?" Sam asked.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there."

Dean abruptly turned around, hiding his grieved expression from his little brother. He didn't seem to realize that he was now facing Julia until it was too late. His face went blank—though his green eyes were still so sad—and she gave him a sad smile to show him that she was there for him if he needed her.

It wasn't the same kind of situation, but Dean had been so supportive of her over the past month. She owed it to him to be there for him, too.

"Look, Dean," Sam's tone softened significantly, realizing why his brother was so reluctant about going back to Kansas. "we have to check this out. Just to make sure."

Dean swallowed harshly, the muscle in his jaw working. "I know we do."

-

They arrived in Lawrence, Kansas around nine the next day. The ride was very quiet even with the rock music playing and Dean definitely didn't blast it like most days. The closer they got to the Winchester's old neighborhood, the more tense Dean got, the air shifting around him anxiously.

Dean pulled over to the curb across their old house, shutting off the Impala. He stared at the house, where there was no sign of the fire, dread. He was clearly rethinking the decision to come here.

"You gonna be all right, man?" Sam asked, noticing his brother's stare.

Dean pressed his lips together. "Let me get back to you on that."

The three of them got out of the car and crossed the street to the house. Julia hung back to walk with Dean, ignoring her slight uneasiness to briefly grab his hand and squeeze reassuringly. Dean's lips quirked slightly and he returned the action before pulling his hand away to stuff it in his jacket.

As Sam knocked on the door, she saw the tree that he had been drawing the day before.

A blonde woman older than all three of them opened the door. "Yes?"

"Sorry, to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal—"

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam cut off Dean to introduce them politely. "this is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Julia. Dean and I used to live here. You know, we were just driving by and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

"Winchester," the woman breathed thoughtfully. "That is so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

Dean looked surprised. "You did?"

The woman nodded. "Come on in," she invited them into the house. "I'm Jenny."

"Nice to meet you," Julia smiled politely as she and the brothers entered the house and followed her through a hallway. "Thanks for letting us take a look around."

"No problem," Jenny nodded as they entered the kitchen. There was a little girl around six or so sitting at the table coloring, while a blonde toddler jumped up and down in a playpen, cheering for juice.

"That's Richie," she told Julia and the brothers as she took a sippy cup of juice over to the little boy. "He's kind of a juice junkie. But hey, at least he won't get scurvy."

Julia smiled and waved at the little boy, watching as he smiled in satisfaction when he popped the sippy-part into his mouth and started drinking. He was such a cutie.

"Sari," Jenny put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "This is Julia, Sam, and Dean. The boys used to live here."

Sari smiled shyly. "Hi."

"Hi, Sari," Julia grinned at her while Sam and Dean waved.

"So," Dean looked to Jenny. "you just moved in?"

"Yeah, from Wichita."

"Do you have family in the area?" Julia wondered. Lawrence was kind of a small town, so it was hard to believe that someone would move here out of nowhere. Then again, Wichita was only two hours south.

"No," Jenny frowned. "We just, uh—we needed a fresh start, that's all. A new town, new job—I mean, as soon as I find one—and a new house."

"How are you liking it so far?" Sam asked as Jenny grabbed the empty plate by Sari's coloring book and took it to the sink.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home—I mean I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here—" Jenny started hesitantly; Dean smiled weakly. "—but this place has its issues."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old," she shrugged. "Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad," Dean said. "What else?"

"Um, the sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement..." when Dean grimaced softly, she trailed off. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No," Dean waved her off. "Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"Just the scratching, actually."

"Mom?" Sari spoke up quietly. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."

Julia frowned in concern. "What, Sari?"

Hesitantly, Sari elaborated, "The thing in my closet."

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets," Jenny assured her daughter before looking up at Sam and Dean pointedly. "Right?"

"Right," Sam nodded. "No, of course not."

"She had a nightmare the other night."

"I wasn't dreaming," Sari insisted indignantly. "It came into my bedroom and it was on fire."

On either side of her, Julia felt the brothers stiffen.

-

"Did you hear that?" Sam asked Dean as the three of them quickly walked out of their old house. "A figure on fire."

"And Jenny was the woman in your dream that needed help?" Julia asked him while Dean stared down at the ground as he walked, keeping quiet about what he had heard. He definitely did not want to believe that whatever killed his mom had stuck around afterwards.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "and did you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights...both signs of a malevolent spirit."

When Dean looked up, Sam was looking at him expectantly. "Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true."

"Well, forget about that for a minute," Sam insisted as they crossed the street to the Impala. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know!" Dean snapped.

"Well, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam matched the volume of his voice, becoming heated.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam!" Dean stopped by his door and faced his brother head-on, his eyes hard. "We don't know yet!"

"Those people are in danger, Dean! We have to get them out of that house!"

"And we will."

"No, I mean now."

Dean scoffed. "And how are you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

"Guys!" Julia stepped in between them, looking around to make sure no one around the neighborhood was watching the brothers freak out at each other. "Stop shouting at each other."

She gave them pointed looks and got two angry glares in return.

"I know that this is difficult but you can't turn on each other," she advised, ignoring their ire. "We should leave and figure out what the hell is actually going on."

"But—"

"Stop talking, Samuel William," Julia gave him a hard look; Sam's face fell and Dean smirked at him. "I can first-and-middle-name you, too, Dean Jonah."

Dean scowled.

"Get in the car," she ordered as she opened the back door and slid into her seat.

She didn't like going all mom-mode on two grown ass men but she didn't know how else to get them to calm down and look at the case rationally. They were emotional about it and she didn't blame them but if they were going to save Jenny and her kids, they needed to pull themselves together.

If she could do this case by herself to save the boys the heartache, she would. But she couldn't—Sam and Dean knew way more stuff than she did and, knowing them, they probably wouldn't stay out of it anyway.

Thoroughly chastised, the brothers got into the Impala. Minutes later, they were pulling up to a gas station so Dean could fill the tank. Thankfully, the ride had given them time to think and calm down, which led to Dean to make a realization.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all," he told Sam and Julia as he pumped gas into the car. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do? Any ideas, Junior?"

Julia knew that he was testing her and she was going to rise to the occasion. "We'd try to figure out what we're dealing with," she answered. "and dig into the history of the house."

"Exactly," Dean nodded. "Except this time, we already know what happened."

"Yeah but how much do we know?" Sam spoke up as he leaned against the car. "I mean, how much do you actually remember?"

"About that night, you mean?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Not much. I remember the fire...the heat," Dean recalled quietly, his gaze far off in the distance like he was watching it in his head. "and then I carried you out the front door."

Julia frowned; so much responsibility had been placed on Dean at such a young age. From the moment he carried Sam out of that house, he had become his brother's caretaker and hadn't stopped since. Julia wished that the boys had a normal childhood like she had but, despite the fact that they didn't, they turned out to be great men.

Sam looked at Dean, surprised by his admission. "You did?"

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, looking over at him. "What, you never knew that?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Oh," Dean pressed on. "and, uh, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...she was on the ceiling and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?"

"If he did, he kept it to himself," Dean said quietly, pulling the gas hose out of the gas tank to put it back on the pump. "God knows we asked him enough times."

"Okay, so, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now, we have to figure out what happened back then," Sam sighed.

"And see if it's the same thing," Julia added.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."

Sam scoffed softly and gave his brother a sad look. "Does this feel like another job to you?"

Dean didn't answer him, his lips quirking into the smallest and saddest smile that Julia had ever seen on him. "I'll be right back," he said instead. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

He walked off around the side of the gas station before Sam—or Julia, for that matter—could say another word or ask another question. Julia turned to Sam with a sad, sympathetic smile, and wrapped a supportive arm around his waist.

"How are you feeling?"

With Sam, she had always made more headway if she asked him how he was, rather than start right in. Sam could express his emotions far better than Dean could but he had to be in the right mind frame and ready to talk on his own. Sam did the same thing with her—it was cheaper than paying for therapy since they were both empathetic and gave good advice.

Sam sighed heavily. "I'm dealing," he told her. "I'm worried about Dean."

"Me too," she leaned her head against the top of his arm.

"You should talk to him," he suggested; Julia pulled away and gave him a confused look. "He would talk to you more than he would me."

"He's your brother, Sam."

"Well, you're his friend," Sam pointed out. "and he doesn't like talking about his feelings."

"What makes you think he would talk about them with me?"

"Because you're Julia," he said simply.

It didn't make a whole lot of sense but she agreed to talk to Dean anyway. She left the Impala to make her way around the gas station to wait for Dean outside of the bathroom. To her surprise, Dean was leaning against the brick wall, eyes clenched shut and his phone pressed against his forehead.

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes blinked open and he straightened himself, putting his phone in his jacket. "Yeah, what's up?"

Julia's chest tightened when she saw that his eyes were tinged a little red. She sighed sadly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest as he slowly returned the gesture, his chin sitting on top of her head.

"It's gonna be okay," she rubbed circles with her thumb on his back. "It hurts, I know."

Dean was quiet but she could feel his heavy breathing blow against her hair.

"It's okay to be sad."

Like a switch flipped at her words, Dean unwrapped himself from her and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wanna be there for Sam."

"I know you do," she nodded, smiling softly up at him. "but Sam wants to be there for you, too, you know. I do, too."

The dimples at the corner of his lips deepened in emotion. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to say much but from the way his shoulders relaxed only slightly, she knew that he heard her and appreciated what she was saying.

"Come on," she grabbed his hand and tugged. "Where do you think we should go first?"

"Uh, probably the garage Dad worked at," Dean sighed as they started walking back to the car. "He co-owned it. Pretty much all of his friends worked there."

"Okay," Julia nodded, seeing that Sam had slid back into his seat to wait for them to come back to the car. "Do you remember where it is?"

Dean nodded.

The auto repair garage that John used to own with Keith Guenther was only a couple streets away from the gas station. Keith was a nice man with a belly and receding hairline who easily agreed to answer questions as they posed as state police.

"So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked as Keith led them through the garage where a couple mechanics were working.

"Yeah, we used to a long time ago," Keith confirmed before hesitating, "Matter of fact, it must be, uh, twenty years since John disappeared. Why are the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"We're re-opening some of our cold cases," Julia informed him with a polite smile. "The Winchester disappearance is one of them."

"Oh," Keith bought her lie. "Well, what do you want to know about John?"

"Well, whatever you remember," Dean told him. "You know, whatever sticks out in your mind."

"Well," he put his hands on his hips. "he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that," he chuckled. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing."

Dean and Sam nodded, exchanging a knowing look.

"But, oh, he sure loved Mary," Keith's smile fell. "and he doted on those kids."

Sam seemed surprised by that. "But that was before the fire?"

Keith nodded. "That's right."

"He ever talk about that night?"

"No, not at first," Keith answered Sam. "I think he was in shock."

"Did he eventually say anything about it?" Julia cocked her head curiously.

"Oh, he wasn't thinking straight," Keith shook his head slightly. "He said, uh, something caused that fire and killed Mary."

"Did he ever say what did it?" Dean wondered.

Keith shook his head. "Nothing did it. It was an accident—an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something," he sighed. "I begged him to get some help, but..."

"But what?"

"He just got worse and worse."

"How?" Dean insisted.

"He started reading these strange old books," Keith recalled. "He started going to see this palm reader in town."

Julia raised an eyebrow. "Do you know the name of the palm reader?"

Keith scoffed. "No."

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Guenther," Sam shook his hand politely. "We'll see ourselves out."

"No problem."

-

"All right, so, there are a few psychics and palm readers in town," Sam sighed, looking down at the local phone book that was supplied at a public phone. "There's someone named El Divino. There's uh—" he laughed. "—the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley. Some dude named—"

"Wait, wait," Dean interrupted, his face lit up in recognition. "Missouri Moseley?"

Sam gave him a curious look. "What?"

"That's a psychic?"

Sam looked back to the phone book. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

Dean opened the back door behind his seat, pulling out John's journal. "Dad's journal," he told Sam. "Here, look at this."

He opened the journal and went to the first page, holding it out to Sam. Sam set the phone book back down by the phone and walked over to Julia and Dean, taking the journal to see what Dean was talking about.

"First page, first sentence," Dean informed him, pointing at the page. "Read that."

Sam's eyes landed on the sentence. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth."

Dean shrugged. "I always thought he meant the state."

Julia wrinkled her nose and took the journal from Sam, reading the entry for herself. It could be nothing but she found herself agreeing with Dean. It was too much of a coincidence that John had started seeing a palm reader in town and there happened to be one name that matched the first sentence of his hunter's journal.

She looked at Sam. "Was there an address?"

There was an address in the phone book and, luckily, Lawrence wasn't that big. Dean found the house where Missouri lived easily without stopping for directions. There was a cute little business sign in front of the house and a cozy waiting area for them to sit in while she finished up with her current appointment.

A black woman with the softest voice that Julia had ever heard escorted a middle-aged man out of her living room only ten minutes after they arrived.

"All right, there," she told him as she opened the door for him to leave. "Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you."

The man gave her his genuine thanks and, when the door was shut firmly behind him, she turned to Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Poor bastard. His woman is cold-banging the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked her, slightly amused.

"People don't come here for the truth, they come for good news," Missouri told him, pausing on her way to the living room. "Well, Sam, Dean, Julia...I ain't got all day."

Julia raised her eyebrows, impressed. "She knew our names," she whispered excitedly to Sam and Dean, standing from her seat on the couch. "She knew who we were."

"Calm down, shortcake," Dean grunted as the three of them made their way into the living room.

Julia rolled her eyes at him and turned to Missouri, already finding the woman staring at them.

"Well, let me look at ya," she laughed joyfully, looking between the three of them. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome. And you—" she pointed at Dean. "—were one goofy looking kid, too."

Julia's mouth fell open in amusement, looking over at Dean with bright eyes. Dean grimaced, looking uncomfortable, but relaxed when Missouri moved onto Julia.

"You look like your momma, girlie," she observed Julia carefully. "Petersen dimple and all. None of your daddy in you."

"You knew my dad?" Julia looked at her in shock.

"We've kept in touch over the years. He and Hannah used to live the town over," Missouri said; Julia's eyebrows furrowed—Hannah had been her dad's little sister who died a year before she was born. "Ooh, you got something special girl. I can feel your sensitivity."

Julia was quiet from the shock of all that Missouri knew about her. She hadn't known that her dad lived in Eudora because he hadn't said anything about it before. It was so strange that the Alexanders lived only a town over from the Winchesters but only met a few years later.

"Sam," Missouri touched his hand as Julia and Dean shared shocked looks and gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry about your girlfriend...and your father...he's missing?"

Another shock. None of them had said anything about John or the fact that they were looking for him—and Sam certainly hadn't shared about the death of his girlfriend.

"How'd you know all that?" he asked her, surprised.

"Well, you were thinking it just now."

Sam raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Well, where is he?" Dean asked hurriedly. "Is he okay?"

Missouri furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. "I don't know."

"Don't know?" Dean repeated. "Well, you're supposed to be psychic, right?"

"Dean!"

"Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half?" Missouri snapped at him. "You think I'm a magician?"

Dean went to defend himself but she kept going.

"I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in the room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please," she said in one breath, nodding at the couch. Julia, Dean, and Sam all sat on the couch, the oldest man thoroughly chastised. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!"

Dean's eyes widened at the finger she pointed at him. "I didn't do anything!"

"But you were thinking it," she retorted; Dean raised his eyebrows and Julia and Sam shared a smirk, amused that someone was setting him straight.

Julia looked around the living room with interest, taking in the homey decorations. She felt a little odd, like there was a sort of nostalgia that she couldn't place. She chalked it up to being in a stranger's presence.

"Okay, so," Sam cleared his throat. "our dad...When did you first meet him?"

"He came for a reading a few days after the fire," Missouri looked uncomfortable speaking about her encounters with John. "I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire?" Dean asked her seriously. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little," Missouri admitted. "Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of the thing."

Julia bit her lip nervously. "And could you?"

"I—" she cut herself off, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Sam asked softly, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Oh, but it was evil."

"Mrs. Moseley—"

"Please, it's Missouri," the older woman told Julia.

"Sorry...Missouri, we came to Lawrence because..." Julia trailed off, giving Sam a hesitant look. How could she explain why they were in Kansas when they couldn't have known about what was going on at the Winchester's old house.

"Because Sam had a vision," Missouri finished for her, not needing a rundown when she could hear their thoughts. "So, you think something is back in the house?"

Julia nodded. "Yes."

Missouri sighed. "I don't understand..."

"What?" Sam gave her a confused look.

"I haven't been back inside but I've been keeping an eye on the place. It's been quiet," Missouri told them. "No sudden deaths, no freak accidents...Why is it acting up now?"

"I don't know," Sam looked down at the carpet covering the floors. "but Dad going missing, Jessica dying, and now this house all happening at once? It just feels like something's starting."

Dean pressed his lips together. "That's a comforting thought."

-

Julia knocked on the door of the Winchester's old home, tapping her foot as she waited next to Missouri on the front step. Now that they were back at the house, Julia felt a little off. She didn't know if it was because Missouri's presence was strengthening whatever sensitivity—as the older woman called it—she had but she felt a weird energy around the house that didn't seem human.

It was making her anxious.

Jenny opened the door, looking upset and clutching Richie tightly against her chest. "Sam, Dean, Julia," she greeted them in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jenny," Sam greeted her gently, noticing how upset she was. "This is our friend, Missouri."

Missouri nodded at her in greeting.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house," Dean requested. "You know, for old time's sake."

"No, you know, this isn't a good time," Jenny denied them politely, her eyes sparkling with tears. "I'm kind of busy."

"Listen, Jenny, it's important—"

Missouri smacked Dean on the side of the head, causing him to grimace and grunt in pain. "Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" she snapped at him before turning to Jenny with an apologetic look on her face. "Forgive this boy, he means well but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed...but hear me out."

"About what?" Jenny asked, confused.

"About this house."

A flash of fear flickered in Jenny's eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Missouri said knowingly. "You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family, am I mistaken?"

Jenny stiffened. "Who are you?"

"We're people who can help," Julia spoke up, giving her a supportive smile. "We can stop this thing but you have to trust us a little."

Jenny reluctantly let them in. Missouri explained a little about who she was and what she did to Jenny. When Jenny was able to absorb that something was going on in her house that she didn't understand, she allowed them to go upstairs so Missouri could see if she felt any energies that didn't belong.

Missouri led them to the last room in the hall; it was painted light blue with stickers placed here and there on the walls and a butterfly comforter on the bed. Julia assumed that this was Sari's bedroom.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it," Missouri told them as she looked around the room carefully.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam," she answered him. "This is where it all happened."

Julia's eyes immediately went to the ceiling like she was expecting there to be a mark or sign of Mary's horrific death. There was nothing and it was had a nice beam design, which relieved her. When she saw Dean look up, too, she grabbed his hand and gripped it tightly.

Dean pulled his EMF device from his jacket with his free hand, taking the comfort Julia offered. As the device buzzed and lit up, Missouri looked over at him.

"Is that an EMF?" she asked. Dean nodded, causing her to scoff. "Amateur."

Dean glared at her and Sam nudged him, silently warning him to behave and get along with her.

"Come here, Julia," Missouri spoke up, looking over at the youngest of the group who was fidgeting nervously. Julia gave her a confused look, let go of Dean's hand, and walked over to her. "I can feel your aura reaching out. You can sense something, can't you?"

Julia nodded jerkily, briefly glancing back at Sam and Dean to see that they were looking at them with confusion. Missouri was right; she did sense something. It was faint but it made her scared.

She didn't know exactly how to explain it but it was like she could feel the darkness in the room. It was pulsing with negativity and wickedness that had her scalp tingling and her hands shaking. She had never been afraid of her abilities—if that's what they actually were—but this made her afraid.

Missouri gave her a knowing look. "I want you to take a deep breath in," she instructed her. "and then slowly exhale. Really focus on what your mind and body are telling you."

Julia did as she was told, closing her eyes, taking in a deep breath, and slowly letting it out. She flinched from the violence she felt—whatever was here wanted to kill and it was stubborn. But...there was also something else. It was hidden by the dark presence but she could feel a slight gentleness from it.

When she opened her eyes, Missouri nodded at her before turning to the brothers who had been silently watching both of them.

"I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved," she told them. "but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam stiffened, sure that there was something bad among them; Missouri nodded. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here," she explained. "It's something different."

"What is it?" Dean pressed her as she walked over to the closet and opened it.

"I think there's more than one," Julia spoke up hesitantly; Dean and Sam's eyes flashed over to her. "I mean, that's what I felt."

"Well, you'd be right," Missouri confirmed for her as she stood in the middle of the walk-in closet.

Dean stiffened. "What are they doing here?"

"They're here because of what happened to your family," Missouri informed Sam and Dean. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaved wounds and, sometimes, wounds get infected."

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand."

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy," she elaborated. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one that won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"And you and Julia said that there was more than one spirit," Sam pointed out, hoping that the other spirit was something that would be taken care of easier than a poltergeist.

Missouri turned to Julia, gesturing for her to explain herself to her friends.

"It's hard to make it out," Julia intertwined her fingers and squeezed her hands together. "but I don't think it's as bad as the poltergeist."

Sam and Dean were quiet after Julia's observation; Missouri walked out of the closet, making her way back over to them.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure," Dean said firmly. "nobody's dying in this house ever again. So, whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

-

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Missouri arrived back at Jenny's house just around sunset. They were armed with hex bags full of angelica root, van-van oil, crossroad dirt, and more ingredients that Missouri didn't elaborate on. They needed to put the bags in each of the four corners of the house—north, south, east, and west—and they would be able to destroy the spirits hanging around unwanted.

While Missouri ushered Jenny, Sari, and Richie safely away from the house for the night, Julia, Sam, and Dean split up the levels of the house. Sam and Missouri would get the basement and hit up the south and east ends while Dean got the north end on the main floor and Julia was appointed the west corner on the second floor.

Julia firmly held onto the mallet and plastic pipe in her hands as she walked up the stairs and to the room furthest to the west. The room was clearly Jenny's—the walls were covered in dark floral wallpaper and had a king-sized bed shoved against the most western wall.

She walked to the side of the bed nearest to the window. Tapping the plastic pipe against the wall to find a spot where there were no studs, she kneeled down to get to work. She found a place close to the floorboard to put the hex bag and went to smash through the drywall with the mallet when something slid around her neck.

Julia squeaked in pain as the lamp cord tightened around her neck, harshly pulling onto her back. She hit the floor with a hard thud, reaching up to try to pry the wire from around her neck. Her air was running out as she tried to dig her fingers under the cord but it tightened and tightened until there was no room for her fingers to slip underneath.

Her lungs ached and she was sure she let out an inhuman noise as she struggled to reach for the hex bag in her cardigan pocket. She gasped loudly, trying to get more air into her trachea but it was too hard.

She could feel her pulse pounding behind her eyes as her body fought for the oxygen it was deprived of. She had heard before that suffocating to death was peaceful but she thought it was bullshit. Every part of her body hurt from lack of oxygen, especially her lungs and the muscles around her neck where the cord was practically attached to her skin.

Nothing was peaceful about it and she had a morbid thought as her body went slack. This was what it felt like for her mom when she was suffering from her lung cancer. The horrible disease had made it so Naomi couldn't breathe and was forced to use a machine that did it for her.

"Julia!"

Julia wheezed loudly as Dean collapsed at her side, reaching for the cord wrapped tightly around her neck. She tried to help him, Dean grunting with effort but the poltergeist was too strong for both of them.

Knowing that the cord wasn't going to budge as long as the poltergeist had its power, Dean pulled away from her weak body and searched for the flimsy pocket he saw her put the hex bag in before she went upstairs. He moved the cardigan over and found the bag, pulling it out of the pocket and lunging at the wall.

Dean kicked the wall a few inches from the trim, making a huge hole in the drywall. He hurriedly placed the bag into the enclosed area, making the room flash with a bright light that had him turning away to protect his eyes.

Julia wheezed again as the cord relaxed against her throat. Dean hurried toward her and knelt down, quickly unwrapping it from around her neck where a dark red line was forming.

"It's okay," Dean pulled her up toward his chest so he had easier access to the cord that somehow knotted behind her neck. Julia breathed deeply, her lungs aching and feeling bruised as they expanded with air.

She almost fell back against the floor, completely exhausted and too weak to move, when Dean had to take his hands from her to throw away the cord but he quickly caught her again. His hand was on the back of her head, pushing her face into the crook of his neck; Julia inhaled his intoxicating scent, relieved that he was there to help her in time.

Julia blinked sluggishly and finally closed her eyes, falling into a slight sleep.

When she woke, an hour had passed. The spirits were supposed to be gone, with all four hex bags in their places in the walls, but Julia still felt uneasy. Something at the back of her head told her that they weren't gone but waiting for them to leave so they could attack Jenny, Sari, and Richie.

Sam felt the same; he turned to Missouri. "You're sure this is over?"

"I'm sure," Missouri confirmed as she looked around the kitchen that was messy from Dean's confrontation with the poltergeist. "Why do you ask?"

If Missouri was sure that the spirits were gone, Julia had to believe her, right? She didn't have the experience that the older woman had so there couldn't be a way that she was right about the spirits still being in the house.

Sam shook his head. "Never mind. It's nothing, I guess."

Julia leaned her head against Dean's upper arm and he allowed her to stay, neither of them minding the company and the comfort that it brought them. She eyed Sam curiously, wondering if he felt the same way as her, but he didn't speak up.

That brought something to mind, though; how did Sam know all of this stuff? How did he have visions? Before today, Julia had signs that she had special knowledge and abilities but Sam? According to him, he'd been without these visions his whole life until a few weeks before Jess died. So, what the hell was going on?

The front door opened. "Hello? We're home."

Within seconds, Jenny and Sari walked into the kitchen—Richie being in the former's arms—and looked around wide-eyed at the mess they had made.

"What happened?" Jenny asked, shocked.

"Sorry," Julia croaked hoarsely in greeting. "We'll pay for all of this."

"Don't you worry," Missouri assured her. "Dean's gonna clean up this mess."

Dean gave her an affronted look, not moving a muscle.

Missouri wasn't having it. "What are you waiting for, boy?" she shrilled. "Get the mop and don't you cuss at me!"

Hours later, after Dean cleaned up the kitchen—Sam reluctantly helping a little bit—the three of them sat in the Impala outside the house. Missouri had left, confident that everything was over, but Sam and Julia silently conferred and confessed that they felt differently.

They convinced Dean that they needed to keep watch just in case something happened, not entirely being truthful about the reason.

"All right," Dean spoke up among the chirping of crickets. "So, tell me again, what are we still doing here?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed, staring at the house. "I just...I still have a bad feeling."

"Why?" Dean gave him a confused look. "Missouri did her whole Zelda-Rubenstein thing. The house should be clean; it should be over."

"Maybe," Julia rested her head against the cool window. "but I have the same feeling as him. That can't be a coincidence."

"We just wanna make sure everything is all right."

"Yeah, well, the problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now," Dean grumbled.

"Dean."

For some reason when Julia said his name in that tone, he always quieted down.

"...Shutting up."

"Dean, Julia, look!" Sam suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the house.

The two of them quickly looked over, spotting Jenny pounding the window in her bedroom on the second floor. They scrambled out of the car, running toward the house at full speed.

"You two grab the kids," Dean ordered as he ran up the front steps. "I'll get Jenny."

He kicked down the locked door after a few tries and they rushed upstairs, heading to Jenny, Sari, and Richie. Dean went straight to Jenny's room, where the door was inexplicably locked while Julia went to Richie and Sam went to Sari.

Richie was sobbing in his crib, clearly scared out of his mind from the pounding sounds coming from his mom's room next door. Julia made rushed soothing noises as she hurriedly picked him up out of his crib, grabbing his blanket so he wouldn't get cold outside. She ran back out of the room with the toddler in her arms, almost running into Sam and Sari in the process.

"Let's go!" Sam urged her as he went downstairs.

Julia was on his heels, being careful not to trip at her high speed. When they made it to the foyer, Sam put Sari down and gently pushed her toward Julia, giving his best friend a pointed look. Julia nodded in understanding.

"Sari," she got the little girl's attention, grabbing her hand with her free one. "you and me are gonna run outside as fast as we can, okay? Don't look back."

Sari nodded and looked back at Sam, screaming shrilly when she saw that he had been grabbed by the poltergeist. Julia tugged on her arm and they took off, sprinting out of the house and into the front yard where Dean and Jenny were waiting.

"Dean," Julia handed the kids off to Julia. "It got Sam!"

After getting his sawed off and some salt rounds from the trunk of the Impala, Dean and Julia ran back to the house. The door was forced shut as they approached and it took both of them together to kick it down in two tries.

"SAM!" Dean shouted as they ran into the house.

By the time they got to the kitchen, Sam was forcefully pinned against the cabinets, unable to move. Across the room, an invisible figure surrounded by fire approached him. Julia didn't feel the evil energy of the poltergeist from it but Dean aimed his sawed off at the figure anyway.

"No, don't!" Sam stopped him.

"What? Why?"

"Because I know who it is," Sam told him. "I can see her now."

As the figure stepped into the kitchen, the fire around it disappeared. Mary Winchester appeared, her long blonde hair floating with the nonexistent wind. She looked at her sons with fond, loving eyes, wearing a long white nightgown.

As Julia gaped at the beautiful woman who birthed two of her closest friends, Dean lowered his gun. He stared at his mom in awe, his eyes stinging with tears as she smiled softly at him.

"Mom..."

Mary slowly walked toward him, her smile growing. Dean looked a lot like her; he got his green eyes, nose, freckles, and dirty-blonde hair from her.

"Dean," she breathed lovingly, giving him a proud look.

Julia's own eyes filled with tears as she grabbed Dean's hand and squeezed tightly, gulping at the smile that Mary gave her as she passed them. She slowly walked up to Sam, who was still in the poltergeist's hold.

"Sam," Mary greeted him; Sam laughed breathlessly, tears falling from his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "For what?"

Mary didn't answer as she stared at him for a long moment. She silently turned back toward the living room, disappearing and reappearing a few feet forward. She stared at the ceiling with a dark glare.

"You," her voice trembled angrily. "get out of my house and let go of my son."

Dean tightened his grip on Julia's hand painfully as flames surrounded Mary once more. The fire flared brightly and raised to the ceiling, spreading and then disappearing all together.

"Mom?" Dean looked around frantically.

Julia sighed, feeling the relief from Mary's lighter energy colliding with the malevolent energy of the poltergeist. "It's done," she whispered as the force holding Sam fell away. "They're gone."

Dean frowned sadly and Sam breathed shakily, both of them devastated to see their mom for a last time before she suddenly disappeared again. Julia's heart ached so badly for them but she hoped that maybe seeing Mary could be a start to giving them some closure.

"Come here," Julia reached out for Sam's arm, tugging him toward her. She untangled her hand from Dean's and wrapped that arm around his waist, bringing both of them in for a hug at the same time.

When Sam rested his head on top of Julia's, his forehead reaching the tip of Dean's shoulder, he sighed in comfort. They were his family and he was so glad he had them around. Dean felt the same way; for the first time ever, he joined in on a group hug.

-

Julia and Sam sat side-by-side on the front steps of Jenny's house the next morning, watching as Dean looked at the photos of the Winchester family that Jenny had found in the basement. They had called Missouri to tell them about what happened the night before and she had rushed over to the house so she could check to make sure that everything was all right.

She did a quick walk around, trying to feel for the energies she felt the day before, before stepped out of the house.

"Well," Missouri sat on Sam's other side. "there are no spirits in there anymore. This time for sure."

Sam looked down at his feet sadly. "Not even my mom?"

"No."

"What happened?" he looked at her, hoping that she would explain how his mom had gotten rid of the poltergeist. Julia had said that she felt them both disappear at the same time, so he was pretty sure it had something to do with Mary.

"You're mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy canceled each other out," Missouri explained. "Your momma destroyed herself going after the thing."

Sam pressed his lips together, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Why would she do something like that?"

"Well, to protect her boys, of course."

Julia smiled and patted Sam's knee comfortingly. Throughout their whole friendship, Sam had confessed many times that he felt disconnected from his mom because she died when he was only an infant. He didn't have the memories that Dean had of Mary and that rightfully upset him. Julia was glad that Sam knew that his mom would have done anything to protect him and his brother because she loved them so much.

"Sam, I'm sorry," Missouri apologized hesitantly.

Sam gave her a confused look. "For what?"

His mom had said that, too.

"You sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't," Missouri stated, her eyes darting between both Sam and Julia. "Both of you did."

Julia nodded silently while Sam grimaced.

"What's happening to me?" he asked the older woman, fear coloring his voice.

"I know I should have all the answers, but," she shook her head slightly. "I don't know."

"Sam, Jules, you ready?" Dean called from the Impala as Jenny started walking back up to her house.

Julia and Sam got up from their spots on the stairs, giving Jenny smiles when she thanked them. The two of them and Dean gathered at the back of the Impala as Missouri walked over to them.

"Don't you three be strangers," she warned them.

"We won't," Dean promised.

"Julia," she called; Julia perked up at her name. "You take care of those boys, okay? They need you."

Julia looked at Sam and Dean, smiling softly. "I need them," she declared; they both grinned back at her. Looking back at Missouri, she nodded in a silent promise. "Bye, Missouri."

Missouri waved at the three of them. "See you around."

They all got into the car and settled in as Dean started the engine. Sam and Dean each gave their old house one last look. Dean pulled away from the curb, leaving the house behind in his rearview mirror.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

05. Shapeshifter

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x06; Skin

Word Count: 8,197

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, minor sexual assault

Author’s Note: The thoughts expressed by Julia in this chapter are not shared by me. Please keep in mind that everyone’s experience with sexual assault is different and valid. Send me an ask if there is something I could change in this chapter. Reblog and Like!

Masterlist in Profiles Description!

They'd been on the road for hours by the time they finally stopped for gas mid-morning. The early morning hours, during which normal people usually slept, had been full of AC/DC, six or seven tapes blasted over and over again until they blurred together—for Julia and Sam, anyway. Dean enjoyed his music thoroughly, remembering every lyric for every song on every tape.

It wasn't that Julia hated the music but, after listening to it on repeat for five hours, she was beginning to develop a migraine and she didn't have any of her prescription left over from when she filled it up while they were in Chicago during Christmas.

Julia had promised not to miss Christmas since she didn't get to come home for Thanksgiving, so she begged Dean and Sam to go home with her for the holiday. They reluctantly agreed, not used to having a Christmas celebration like Julia did, but they had a nice time with their family friends anyway.

Since the Petersen family was Baptist and the Alexander family was Catholic, the Alexander-Petersen family compromised and went to a nondominational church. They went almost every Sunday and on the holidays. Christmas Eve was no exception. Dean and Sam weren't big believers in God or Jesus Christ but Julia's faith was really important to her, so she got them to come with the bribe of an extra present each—they both got a brand-new switchblade with their names engraved on the handle.

Julia loved visiting her family—especially watching her niece open her presents from Santa on Christmas morning and seeing her Aunt Maggie who was usually very busy when she came to town—but it wasn't the same without their dad. Luke hadn't come home for the holiday or his birthday and his children were disappointed and a little angry.

Christmas had been almost a month ago, so that was a testament to how many times she had migraines during the three and a half weeks. It was a chronic condition passed down on her mother's side and they were a real joy to deal with.

"All right," Dean turned off the engine. "I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch then head south and hit Bisbee by midnight."

Julia groaned in response, covering her eyes with her pillow while Sam didn't respond at all.

"Sam wears women's underwear."

"I've been listening, I'm just busy," Sam said absentmindedly.

"Busy doing what?" Dean got out of the car and walked over to the gas pump.

"Reading emails."

"Emails from who?"

"From my friends at Stanford," Sam told him.

"You're kidding," Dean scoffed. "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

"Why not?"

"Well, what exactly do you tell them?" Dean wondered. "You know, about where you've been, what you've been doing?"

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with Julia and my big brother," Sam shrugged. "I tell them I needed some time off after Jess."

"So, you lie to them?"

"No, I just don't tell them everything," Sam disagreed.

"It's a lie by omission," Julia told them in the loudest voice she could muster.

"Exactly," Dean pointed at her while smirking at Sam. "I mean, hey man, I get it. Telling the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Cut everybody out of my life?" Sam cocked his head; Dean shrugged. "You're serious?"

"Look, it sucks but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period."

Julia didn't know whether or not to be offended by Dean's words. Were they not friends or was she imaging a lifetime full of memories?

"What do you call Julia, Abby, Beth, and Levi?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, defending her honor.

"They don't count," Dean dismissed as he got back into the car. "They're more family than friends."

"Aww, Bean."

"Shuddup."

Sam laughed and shook his head at his brother. "You're antisocial, you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever."

It was silent for a couple of seconds as Dean changed the tape before Sam gasped lowly. "God."

"What?"

"This email from my friend, Rebecca Warren," Sam stated. "J, did you get one?"

"Don't know."

"Is she hot?"

"We went to school with her and her brother, Zack," Sam explained to Dean, pretending he hadn't heard his question. "J, she's said that Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Becky said he didn't do it but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

Julia huffed and pulled the pillow off her head, sitting up and squinting at Sam. "Are you serious?"

"Dude, what kind of people are you guys hanging out with?" Dean asked him in disgust.

"Zack is literally one of the most pacifistic people I've ever known," Julia informed him. "One time he got punched in a bar because some dude thought he hit on his girlfriend—which he didn't, it was a huge misunderstanding—and he calmly walked away like he hadn't noticed."

"Pussy," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Dean!"

"Sorry."

"Either way, Zack's no killer," Sam decided.

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows about you," Dean commented.

"They're in St. Louis. We're going."

Dean scoffed in disbelief. "Look, I'm sorry about your buddy but this doesn't sound like our kind of problem."

"They're our friends," Sam insisted. "It is our problem."

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam!"

Sam gave him the give-me-what-I-want face, trying to get him to give in, and Julia joined him. She knew that by themselves, their puppy-eyed looks were good but together? She and Sam could rule the world. It was the hazel eyes and dimples that drew people in and gave them what they wanted. Manipulative? Yes. Satisfying? Also yes.

"God, fine!" Dean gave in, his eyes darting back and forth between them. He started up the car and his music started playing.

Sam gave him a grateful looked while Julia laid back down, pulling her pillow back over her face. The nausea that usually came with a migraine was now starting to settle in and it sure was a bitch.

"Dean?" she asked in a pitiful voice. "Can you please turn the music down? Please?"

Dean sighed heavily and turned the volume down. "The things I do for you, shortcake."

Julia hummed as he drove away from the gas station, falling asleep within minutes.

-

"Oh, my God!" Rebecca, one of the first people Julia and Sam met at Stanford, exclaimed as she opened the door of her house a day and a half of travel later. "Sam, Jules!"

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam grinned.

Becky rolled her eyes. "You know what you can do with that little Becky shit," she gave him a quick hug and then pulled Julia in for one. "You look like shit, Jules."

"Thanks, Beck, that's what I love to hear," Julia said, groggy from the leftover symptoms of her migraine the day before. "Migraine."

"Gross," Becky wrinkled her nose, making Julia smile slightly.

"Yeah, I know. So, we got your emails about Zack."

"I didn't think you guys would come here."

Dean spoke up, slightly squishing his way in between Julia and Sam to shake Becky's hand. "Dean. I'm the older brother."

"Sam's older brother," Julia clarified.

Becky smiled at him politely, shaking his hand. "Hi."

"Hi."

"We're here to help," Sam informed Becky. "Whatever we can do."

Becky stepped to the side so they could enter the house. "Come in."

The house Becky stayed in while living in St. Louis was gorgeous. It actually reminded Julia of the family house up in Chicago where Beth, Taylor, and Lizzie lived, but this place had a nicer foyer with a beautiful iron staircase.

"Nice place," Dean commented, looking around.

"It's my parents'," Becky told him modestly as she led them through a formal dining room and into the impressive kitchen. "I was just crashing here for winter break when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked.

"They live in Paris for half the year so they're on their way home now for the trial," she pressed her lips together and gave them an awkward smile. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

"Hey!" Dean pointed at her but Sam shook his head.

"No, thanks," he denied for the three of them. "So, tell us what happened."

"Well, Zack came home and he found Emily tied to a chair," Becky started, her eyes starting to water slightly. "And she was beaten up and bloody and she wasn't breathing. So, he called 9-1-1 and the police—they showed up and they arrested him."

Julia gave her a sympathetic smile and placed a comforting hand on her arm.

"The thing is," Becky continued. "the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video from the security camera across the street and it shows Zack coming home at ten-thirty. Emily was killed just after that but I swear, he was here with me having a few beers until, at least, after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene?" Sam suggested. "Zack's house?"

"We could?" Julia and Dean asked in unison, looking over at him in shock.

That didn't make much sense to Julia; Becky knew who they were—the part of them that didn't hunt, anyway—and she knew that neither of them had the authority to check out a sealed crime scene.

"Why? What could you guys do?"

"Well, us, not much," Sam admitted before turning to Dean with a small smile. "But Dean's a cop."

Dean laughed in shock but with a firm look from Sam, which Becky didn't notice, he went along with it. "Detective, actually."

"Really?" Dean nodded at her. "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona," Dean looked pointedly at Julia and Sam—they were supposed to be in Bisbee, taking care of a spirit. "but I'm off-duty now."

Becky pressed her lips together. "You guys, it's so nice to offer but I just—I don't know..."

"Beck," Julia spoke up; she might as well join in with the stupid lie that Sam came up with. "Look, we know that Zack didn't do this. Now we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

Becky glanced from her to Sam and Dean before giving in. "Okay," she smiled slightly. "I'll go get the keys."

Becky walked out of the kitchen and Julia made sure she heard her going up the stairs before glaring at Sam. "Are you crazy?" she hissed. "I hate lying, S. I hate it."

Dean gave her a weird look. "You lie all the damn time."

"That doesn't mean I like it! Especially lying to my friends!"

"You lied to my face that day at the motel."

"Well, that's—that's—"

"Look," Sam interrupted their bickering. "Zack and Becky need our help."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. "I just don't think this is our kind of problem."

"Two places at once?" Sam repeated Becky's words. "We've looked into less."

"I hate to admit it, because I don't like the plan, but Sam's right," Julia sighed.

For the second time that day, they unleashed their puppy-eyed looks.

Dean sighed and gave in; he was powerless against them. "Fine."

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was slicing through the sticker that sealed the crime scene.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Becky asked him anxiously, unlocking the door with her key.

"Yeah," Dean assured her. "I am an officer of the law."

"Besides, it's a little late now, Becky," Julia laughed lightly.

They ducked under the line of caution tape crossing the door and entered the house. It was a bloody mess, to put it lightly. Julia never really had a problem with blood, but even this was a little extreme.

Sam looked back at Becky, who had yet to come in. "Beck, you wanna wait outside?"

"No," Becky shook her head, her eyes wet, and ducked under the tape. "I want to help."

Julia made sure to stay by her side, showing her support. Becky was friends with Emily—Zack's girlfriend—too, so it was very hard for her to see the remnants of her splashed all over the walls and furniture.

"Now, tell us what the police said," Sam requested as Dean looked around at the evidence; Julia wished that he wouldn't touch anything so his fingerprints weren't on the stuff.

"Well, there was no sign of a break-in," Becky sniffed. "They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers, they're already talking about a plea bargain."

Julia wrapped an arm around her as she looked around and let out a sob. She rubbed her back, making soothing noises. She had always been sensitive to the emotions around her, and most of the time—she was noticing it more and more with the cases they were going on—she could tell a little what a person was feeling. Becky's heartbreak and hopelessness felt like her own and she didn't know if it was because they were friends, but she could feel herself starting to tear up, too. She was always a sympathetic crier, too—Levi, Dean, and Sam always made fun of her for it while they were growing up but Beth and her mom understood.

"Look, Beck, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did," Sam said softly, trying to get her back on track in the nicest way possible. "Any idea who?"

"Um," Becky gulped noisily as she recalled something. "there was something. About a week before, somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack's clothes. The police don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."

Julia and Sam exchanged a pointed look. In their opinion, that was something. If Zack was somehow in two places at one time and someone stole his clothes, there could very well be someone out there wearing his face. Julia didn't understand sometimes how people couldn't think about that but, then again, most people didn't grow up like her, Sam, and Dean.

Sam and Julia broke off away from Becky and took a look around for themselves as she went to talk to Dean. She was saying something about the dog that kept barking outside of the house and it made Julia smile. Dean absolutely hated dogs for no reason, so he wasn't the best person to talk about them with.

"Don't touch anything," Julia warned Sam as they walked around the kitchen. "Dean already got his prints everywhere."

"Because he's an idiot," Sam rolled his eyes with a smile and then paused, spotting something on the fridge. "Hey, look at this."

It was a picture that made Julia bite her lip. It was from a couple years ago; her, Jess, Becky, Zack, and Sam were huddled together, wearing party hats with drunken smiles on their faces. It had been Zack's twenty-first and they had such a good time getting wasted, eating food, and playing games. She had forgotten that they took it.

She looked at Sam worriedly, hoping that it didn't hurt him too much to see Jess. She missed her roommate and friend so much but it didn't even compare to how Sam was feeling, especially when he confessed the other week about how he felt guilty for her death so Bloody Mary would come after him.

"I don't think they'd mind if we took this," she whispered, carefully taking the photo from the magnet. The two of them and Jess were in the middle of the group pose, so it would be easy to cut off Becky and Zack.

Sam smiled sadly as she covertly slid the picture into her purse, making sure Becky didn't see anything.

"So," they both startled when Dean spoke, not having seen him walk over. "the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed."

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam offered.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something."

"Maybe you should question him, D."

Dean sent her an annoyed look as Sam asked him, "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No, probably not," Dean didn't want to come right out and admit that Sam and Julia were right, but they were right. "but we should take a look at the security tape just to make sure."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Are we copying each other now?"

Both of the brothers ignored Julia's sarcastic comment and walked over to Becky. "So, the tape. The security footage...you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."

Becky bit her lip. "I've already got it," she admitted. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the cop. I stole it from the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

"Well, all right," Dean laughed in satisfaction.

-

Bright and early the next morning, Sam and Julia dragged Dean out of bed, filled him up with some doughnuts and coffee, and made him take them back to Zack's house. After reviewing the security tape at Becky's house late the previous night, they discovered that the Zack who went in the house had a flare over his eyes.

Now they had the confirmation that they needed to know it was their kind of problem. Because human eyes don't flare like that in the presence of bright lights or photos, they figured it was a kind of doppelganger or some other creature that could look like someone else.

"All right," Dean got out of the Impala, slammed his door shut, and took a sip of his black coffee. "So, what the hell are we doing here at five-thirty in the morning?"

"I realized something," Sam told Dean what he previously shared with Julia. "The videotape shows the killer going in but not coming out."

"So, he came out the back door?"

Sam nodded and walked over to the dumpsters behind Zack's house. "Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue—"

"Cause they think the killer never left and they caught your friend, Zack, inside," Dean finished grumpily. "I still don't know what we're going out here at five-thirty in the morning."

"Because there's nothing like fresh midwestern winter air in the morning," Julia winked at him.

Dean grumbled; it was too early in the morning to deal with her nonsense. He kind of wished that she was quiet like when she had a migraine but that was kind of intense. He didn't want her in pain or anything.

Sam left the dumpsters and walked over to the nearest pole, squinting at it. There was a large section of blood just underneath an old flyer. Sam looked at Dean smugly. "Blood. Somebody came this way."

"Yeah, but the trail ends," Dean pointed out, looking at the poles that proceeded it. "I don't see anything over here."

Sirens blasted as an ambulance drove by them, heading to an apartment building a block or so down. Dean grunted in annoyance as Julia started toward the commotion in a hurry, Sam following after her.

There were a bunch of people surrounding the building, along with three cop cars and the ambulance they had just seen. By the time they got there the police were leading a handcuffed man of Asian descent out of the building to one of the cruisers.

"What happened?" Dean asked a jogger that had stopped to watch what was going on.

"He tried to kill his wife," the woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Tied her up and beat her."

Julia looked at her in surprise; that fit the way Zack supposedly killed Emily. "Really?"

The woman nodded. "I used to see him going to work in the morning," she shared. "He'd wave and say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy."

As the police cruiser with the suspect drove away, Sam told Dean and Julia that he was going back to look around the back of the building. Julia stayed with Dean and once everything was over and the ambulance had driven away, they asked one of the police officers what had happened.

They caught up with Sam soon after, Dean now one hundred percent convinced that this was actually their kind of problem.

"Hey," Dean called for his brother. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah."

"Definitely our kind of problem."

"What'd you guys find out?"

"Dean talked to a deputy who was on the scene first," Julia told him. "He heard the suspect's story. Apparently, the guy was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"So, he was at two places at once," Sam stated.

Dean nodded. "Exactly," he confirmed. "then he sees himself in the house and the police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean added.

"Shapeshifter?" Sam recalled. "Something that can make itself looked like anyone?"

Dean nodded as Julia listened carefully. "Every culture in the world has shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."

"So, like skinwalkers and werewolves?" Julia spoke up.

"Right," Dean confirmed. "So, we've got two attacked within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Let me ask you this," he told his brother. "In the shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Not that I know of."

"I picked up a trail here," Sam pointed to a bloody pole just like the one behind Zack's house. "Someone ran out of the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house."

"Yeah, and just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends," Sam hummed. "Whatever it is just disappeared."

"Well, there is another way to go," Dean pointed out, looking at the ground where they stood around a manhole. "Down."

"Oh, no," Julia moaned in disgust. "Not the sewer."

Dean bent down and picked up the iron manhole cover, scooting it to the side so that the three of them could climb down. Dean went first and Sam went last so he could cover it back up. The sewer was dark and smelly and Julia hated every single minute she was down there—mostly it was because she was wearing her white Keds today and stains seemed to last forever on those.

"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too," Sam observed as Dean and Julia looked around. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around."

"I think you might be right," Dean called from a few feet to the right. "Look at this."

Julia and Sam made their way over to him; Dean crouched down over a disgusting pile of goo and brought out his switchblade, dipping the tip into it. The nasty stuff that looked like mucus stretched as he lifted the blade, making Julia gag.

She'd take the blood at Zack's house over this any day.

"Oh," Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Is this from one of his victims?"

"You know, I just had a sick thought," Dean remarked. "When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds."

"Ew, gross."

"That is sick."

Dean wiped his blade off on his jeans—getting a look of disgust from Julia in the process—and put it away. They climbed back out of the manhole and made their way back to the Impala to get some weapons.

There was only one method of killing shapeshifters that was universal across the different species—a silver bullet to the heart. Having just picked up a case for each of their guns from the hunter side of PSC., they each loaded up their weapons.

They had a brief break when Becky called Sam to tell them she knew they lied about Dean being a police officer and accusing them of ruining Zack's case but they quickly got back on track—a few minutes after Dean's I-told-you-so's, of course.

They made their way back into the sewer with flashlights and silver bullets, taking their time to carefully look every which way they walked. With Sam in the front and Julia in the middle, she still felt paranoid that the shifter would just pop out of no where and scare the shit out of her.

Once they were close to its lair, Julia was proven correct. The shapeshifter, still using the face of the Asian man, appeared behind Dean, hitting him in the head and forcefully pushing him into the sewer wall. Julia rushed toward him and helped him up; he was cradling his left shoulder and it looked like it was dislocated.

"Go get the son of a bitch!" Dean ordered her and Sam.

Sam shot at the shifter but it jumped away, running out of the sewer as fast as he could. The three of them ran after him but it took awhile before they had to admit that they couldn't find him. It was dark when they popped out of a manhole by a nearby park.

They stashed their guns so no one would see them—Dean groaned heavily as he put his on the inside of his jacket, evidently moving his shoulder too much—and looked around to see if they could see the Asian man.

None such luck.

"Let's split up," Sam suggested.

"All right," Dean agreed. "I'll meet you two around the other side."

Sam and Julia agreed before running in the opposite direction of Dean. They rounded the block, keeping an eye out, but they saw no familiar faces in the crowd. Julia thought it would be easy catching the shifter, since it was dark and the cars driving down the streets were using headlights, but it wasn't.

Having no luck finding the shifter, Julia and Sam waited for Dean at the other side of the building. Five minutes later, Dean caught up with them looking like he had just as much luck finding the creature as them.

"Anything?" Dean asked them.

"No," Julia shook her head. "He's gone."

"All right," Dean looked around. "let's get back to the car."

They crossed the street—Dean briefly getting separated by a rogue car—and made their way down the block and back to the Impala they left behind Zack's house.

"You think he found another way underground?" Julia asked quietly as she stepped up by her door.

"Yeah, probably," Dean nodded and turned to Sam. "You got the keys?"

"Hey," Sam hesitated to throw him the keys. "didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?"

"That was Austin," Dean answered. "It turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was a thought-form—a psychic projection. Remember?"

"Oh, right. Here," Sam tossed the keys to him; Dean caught them with his left hand. Julia furrowed her eyebrows—she could have sworn his dislocated that shoulder.

"Dean, you okay?" she asked cautiously.

Dean grinned at her. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

Yeah, okay, this wasn't Dean. Dean had hardly ever—ever—called her sweetheart. He called her shortcake, Junior—because of her first and second initials—Jules, and Julia when he was being serious or was angry with her. Nothing else—besides the one time a couple weeks back that he called her baby.

She gave Sam a subtle look as Dean opened the trunk and lifted the flap to look at the weapons, laughing softly. Sam nodded at her and she pulled out her gun as he slowly walked around the front of the car to stand next to her.

"Don't move!" Sam yelled at him, cocking his gun and aiming it at the shapeshifter. Julia followed his lead, her eyes narrowing furiously while Dean held his hands up. "What have you done with him?"

"Guys, chill," the shapeshifter warned them, keeping up his façade. "It's me, all right?"

"No, I don't think so," Sam gritted through his teeth. "Where's my brother?"

"You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down."

"You caught those keys with your left," Julia pointed out. "Your shoulder was hurt."

"Yeah, it's better," the shifter looked at them like they were the crazy ones. "What do you want me to do, cry?"

"You're not my brother."

"Why don't pull the trigger then, huh?" he took a step toward Sam. "Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."

"Don't."

Faster than they expected, the shapeshifter whipped his hand over and swiped the gun out of Sam's hands. He was knocked out as Julia aimed her gun at the shifter and took a shot; the man predicted her movement and forcefully pushed her down onto the road, her head hitting the pavement harshly.

-

Julia was pretty sure they were in the sewer again, if the smell of crap was anything to go by. The room that she and Sam were being held in was a lot bigger than the tunnels they were walking through earlier and there were metal beams that she and Sam were tied tightly to with scratchy rope.

"Sam," she whispered, trying to wake her best friend. "Sam, wake up!"

It took a few seconds but eventually Sam startled awake. Unfortunately, it was around the same time the shifter walked into the room, a length of rope curled around his arm. He saw that she and Sam were awake before slowly walking over to them.

He stared down at Sam for a few seconds before pulling his arm back and whipping him in the face.

"Hey!" Julia shouted at him, furious.

"Shut up!" the shifter sneered at her; she had heard Dean say that phrase to her a million and one times but it was never as venomous as his voice was just then. She knew it wasn't Dean but they had the same voice.

Julia quieted down but glowered at him.

Sam inhaled deeply, setting his own glare at the shifter. "Where is he?" he clenched his red jaw. "Where's Dean?"

"I wouldn't worry about him," the shifter set down the rope and turned back to face them. "I'd worry about you and your pretty little friend here."

"Where is he?"

"You don't really wanna know," he said to Sam knowingly, chuckling slightly as he moved away from them. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family...I thought I came from a bad background."

"What do you mean, learn?" Julia spoke up.

The shifter picked up a large knife and glanced at her, irritated. His face scrunched up in pain for a few seconds, as if he was downloading Dean's thoughts, before relaxing. "He's sure got issues with you, Sam," he shook his head, walking over to stand in front of him. "You got to go to college; he had to stay home. I mean—I had to stay home...with Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own?"

Julia narrowed her eyes at him; he didn't exactly spill Dean's secret about wanting to go to college himself but he painted a pretty clear picture for Sam. Dean kept that secret for a reason—he never wanted Sam to feel bad about what Dean had missed out on to take care of him while growing up himself.

"But Dad needed me," the shifter continued. "Where the hell were you?"

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked slowly.

"I am your brother," Dean leaned over him. "See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak and sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked as the guy wearing his brother's face backed away with a smirk.

"You left," the shifter elaborated aggressively. "Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothing—just left me with your sorry ass. But still," he walked over to Sam once more. "this life? It's not without its perks."

Sam narrowed his eyes as the shifter repeated what Dean had told him when he handed him the gun with silver bullets.

"I meet the nicest people," the shifter laughed mockingly. "Like little Becky. You know, Dean would fuck her if he had the chance."

"Enough!" Julia spoke up, tired of the guy's monologuing. She really thought that was just a comic book super-villain thing but it turns out it was actually true.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't be jealous. He thinks you're pretty, too," the shifter clicked his tongue as he moved onto her, leaning over her with a threatening look. "You know, he hates listening to you talk. You go on and on and on."

Julia flinched, hoping that wasn't true. If the shifter had really downloaded Dean's thoughts like she assumed, though, it was true. Everything he had said had been true.

"Don't listen to him, Julia!" Sam told her, his voice furious.

"Ooh, hurts doesn't it?" the shifter gave her a mocking pout. "But it's not all bad...see, Dean here, has a little idea how to get you to shut up..."

The shifter leaned down and forcefully pressed Dean's lips against hers, her head digging painfully into the metal beam behind her. Julia struggled against him, trying to free her arms of the tight rope surrounding her. The shifter harshly bit her bottom lip, drawing blood that she could actually taste, one of his hands stroking down the length of her neck and tightening around it.

Tears fell from her eyes as Sam shouted at him to stop. When the shifter pulled back with a smirk, Julia angrily spat at him. The smirk fell off his face and he wiped the blood and saliva from his chin before harshly backhanding her across the face.

Julia's vision went black and the last thing she heard was Sam's angry yells.

-

-

Sam squirmed against the beam he was tied to, grunting with effort as he tried to cut through the ropes with the sharp metal corner. It was difficult and taking a longer time than he was used to. Julia was still passed out, he had no idea where Dean was, and the shifter was on his way to Becky's house wearing Dean's face, so he was a little stressed out and a lot furious.

"Julia," Sam called, turning his head toward her as he continued to try to get out of his ropes. "Come on, J, wake up."

Someone coughed but it wasn't Julia; it came from behind them on the other side of the large room they were being held captive in.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," he heard Dean groan.

Sam chuckled in relief—one problem solved. "Yeah, it's me. He went to Becky's house looking like you."

"Well, he's not stupid," Dean somehow found humor in the situation. "He picked the handsome one. Where's Jules?"

"Next to me. He knocked her out."

"Fucking dick," Dean swore angrily; Sam heard the snap of ropes and then footsteps as Dean walked over to him. He quickly cut Sam's ropes and then went onto Julia's, frowning when he saw the injuries on her relaxed face. "She's pretty beat up."

"Yeah and here's the thing," Sam unwrapped the rest of the rope around him. "he didn't just look like you, he was you—or he was becoming you. He said some messed up things."

Dean gave him a curious look as he crouched down in front of Julia, his hand pressed gently against her swollen cheek. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Sam stood up, flexing his arms to get the blood flowing. "it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

"You mean like a Vulcan mind-meld?"

"Yeah, something like that," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's pop culture reference. "I mean, maybe that's why he didn't kill us. Psychic connection and all."

Dean nodded and focused back on Julia's, stroking her cheek. "Jules, wake up," he said softly as Sam pulled the ropes from around her. "Julia...Julia, come on."

Julia's eyes fluttered as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She could smell bergamot spice, musk, sweat, motor oil, and leather—it was pure Dean. Her eyes popped open and she flinched back against the beam when she saw Dean's green eyes staring at her.

"No, no, no," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's just me, shortcake," he tried assuring her, confused at her scared reaction.

"Dean..."

"Get away from me...get away from me...get away from me..." she chanted, tears falling down her dirty and swollen cheeks.

"Dean, move," Sam pushed his brother away from his best friend, understanding her reaction. Dean stumbled out of the way and Sam picked Julia up. "It's okay, J, it's him. It's Dean, not the shifter."

Bloodshot hazel eyes peeked out from behind Sam's shoulder, staring down at Dean. He nodded empathetically at her, still confused about her reaction, and her cries softened considerably.

"Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Becky's house already," Sam urged his brother before looking at Julia. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah."

He set her down and they started to try to find a way out of the shifter's lair. It turned out that it wasn't the sewer like Julia assumed but a basement of an abandoned building. Either way, it still smelt like crap.

Sam found a window at the top of one of the walls and went up to it, breaking the glass. He let Dean go first so that Julia wasn't alone with him—Sam trusted him wholeheartedly and he knew Julia did, too, but she was still probably traumatized—and then climbed out next. He hung through the window and grabbed Julia's arms, lifting her out of the building.

"Come on," he helped her up. "We gotta find a phone and call the police."

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean objected. "You're gonna put an APB out on me!"

Sam shrugged. "Sorry."

Dean shook his head and looked down the alleyway the building was located. He recognized the street as one he went down when looking for the shifter earlier that night. "Come on, this way."

He led Sam and Julia down the alleyway. The Impala wasn't in the same place where they originally parked but they did end up finding a payphone and some spare change. Sam called the police and they could soon hear sirens heading toward the part of the city Becky's house was located.

They found a electronics store down another street and stopped, waiting to see if there was going to be anything about the shifter on the news. Soon enough, a special report went live.

"An anonymous tip led the police to a home in the Central West End, where a SWAT team discovered a local woman bound and gagged," the reporter announced to the public. "Her attacker, a while male approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home."

A rough sketch of Dean that looked remarkably close to him was shown on screen, reporting that he was armed and dangerous.

"Shots were fired," the reporter continued. "and police are saying the subject fled the scene on foot."

"Man!" Dean complained, gesturing toward the televisions in the window. "that's not even a good picture."

Sam looked around cautiously, hoping that no one around had gotten a good look at Dean's face. "It's good enough. Come on," he gestured for him and Julia to follow him away from the open street. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"He didn't kill her," Julia spoke up hoarsely, flinching a little as Dean looked over at her.

Sam nodded at her. "We'll check with Becky in the morning, see if she's all right."

"All right," Dean agreed harshly as they turned down an empty alleyway. "but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the fucking shit out of him."

He wasn't an idiot, contrary to popular belief. He had figured out that the asshole had done some nonconsensual touching to Julia a few minutes after he saw her bloody lip and the frightened look she gave him. He hated that Julia thought of him like that, even if it wasn't really him, because he really cared about her and that was not the way he rolled. He didn't use sex to frighten people and he didn't do anything without thorough consent. He wasn't an animal and that kind of stuff was pure-fucking-evil.

"We have no weapons," Sam pointed out. "No silver bullets."

"Sam, the dick's wearing my face!" Dean exclaimed as he stopped walking; Julia paused a few feet away from him, shifting uncomfortably. It made his blood boil and made him want to kill the monster so much more. "It's a little personal and I wanna find him."

"Okay," Sam gave in. "Where do we look?"

"We could start with the sewers."

"We have no weapons," Sam repeated. "He stole our guns, we need more."

"What about the car?" Julia asked.

"I'm betting he drove over to Rebecca's house," Dean stated.

Sam nodded. "The news said he fled on foot, so I bet it's still parked there."

Dean clenched his fists, even more angry. "The thought of him driving my car—"

"All right, come on—"

"It's killing me," he finished.

"Let it go," Sam advised.

Before they could start walking out of the alleyway and to Becky's house, Julia spoke up. "I'm gonna go back to the motel," she stammered nervously; they paused to look at her with worried faces. "I'm...yeah, I'm gonna...I'm gonna head there and...take a shower..."

"Are you sure, Julia?" Sam asked quietly. "You can stay with me, if you want."

"No, no," she shook her head, almost shyly. "I wanna take a shower."

"Just be careful," Dean told her, frowning at the way she flinched at his voice. "we don't know where that fucker is."

"Okay," Julia nodded. "Okay...uh, see you later."

Sam and Dean watched her run out of the alley and out under the bright streetlights, hoping that the shifter was too busy to try to find her.

"You think she'll be okay?" Dean asked Sam as they started their trek to Becky's house.

Sam hesitated. "Victims of sexual assault—"

"Wait," Dean's eyes widened in horror and fear. "Did he...?"

"No, no," Sam told him quickly; Dean sighed in relief, glad that it hadn't gone that far. "He kissed her, bit her lip, and kind of choked her, I guess. Either way, it's sexual assault. And, with the fact that he was wearing your face—someone she trusts—and the things he said..."

"What'd he say?" Dean demanded.

"Nothing that bad," Sam shrugged. "but he kind of implied that you wanted to shut her up by kissing her?"

Dean stopped in his tracks. "What?" he scratched the back of his head; honestly, yes he did, but he would never do it without her permission. "I mean, she's drop-dead gorgeous and all but—but she's young, you know? And—so..."

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's awkward rambling. "Just shut up. I know you're attracted to Julia. Let's just go."

Dean nodded and they started up once again.

-

-

Once Julia got back to their motel room, very thankful that it had been Sam to check them in and not Dean, she locked and bolted the door and jumped in the shower. She turned on the water as hot as she could handle it and scrubbed at her skin and face until every part of her was red from the heat and friction.

And then she cried.

She felt so ashamed. For being used like that and for being so damn affected by what happened. She wasn't raped; she was lucky compared to numerous other women in the world who were assaulted much worse than her. Her experience was just a blimp on the world's radar and nothing to cry over.

The fact that it was done by a monster wearing Dean's face was almost the worst part. She trusted Dean with her life and she cared about him so much. He was her closest friend—besides Sam—and she was really attracted to him, too. And yes, she knew it wasn't really him. She knew it wasn't the real Dean.

But it didn't matter much at the moment. His face assaulted her and she couldn't get it out of her damn head.

Finally, when she couldn't take the heat anymore, she got out of the shower. The bathroom was still humid but she was relieved that she didn't have to see her injured face in the mirror because of the steam. She quickly got dressed in her comfiest pajamas and went back to the main room.

Sam and Dean weren't back yet and she was worried about them but she couldn't force herself to go find them. Not tonight, at least. She curled up in her and Sam's bed and covered her whole body with the blanket despite the fact that she got hot quickly at night.

It took a long time, but she finally got to sleep.

When she woke up the next day, the boys still weren't back at the room. She went about her morning business and finally got to work on cleaning the injuries on her face, cursing the fact that she didn't do it the night before. She really hoped they wouldn't become infected, especially the cut on her lip.

Bits and pieces of the nightmares she had during the night flashed before her eyes as she got dressed. When she was done, she turned on the television and went to the comedy channel, hoping there was something funny on so she could distract herself.

Seinfeld was on and she wasn't the biggest fan but at least it did distract her enough. She was on the fourth episode when the door was unlocked and pulled open, stopped as the chain tightened.

"J, it's me," Sam called to her as she cautiously stood up and walked toward the door.

"How do I know you're not the shifter?"

Sam—if it really was him—looked behind him, presumably toward Dean. He grabbed something and showed her that it was a knife. "This is silver," he told her, pushing her arm through the crack. He pressed the blade down on his unblemished skin, a clean cut showing up. "See? It's me and Dean."

Julia slowly walked over to the door, relieved that it was actually Sam, and undid the chair. She opened the door further to allow them inside and was shocked to see that Sam had a few injuries, just a few small cuts and bruises.

"Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly, not noticing that Dean hovered near the threshold. "Were you hurt? Did you kill him?"

"I'm fine," Sam assured her with a tired smile. "Dean killed him."

Julia turned around to face Dean, giving him a hesitant look.

"I won't come in if you don't want me to," he said quietly, giving her a gentle smile. "I'll crash in the car."

"No," she shook her head. "it's fine."

Dean walked fully into the room and shut the door behind him. He gave his brother a pointed look as she turned back away from him to climb onto her bed and Sam nodded at him.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Sam informed them.

To her credit, Julia only stiffened a little.

This is Dean; he's not gonna hurt you. This is Dean; he's not gonna hurt you.

"Jules," Dean spoke up, watching her body language; she was clearly uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry he did that to you. I can't—I can't imagine what it's like and I'm sure it was horrible but I want you to know that I would never do that to you. Ever."

Julia's eyes stung as she turned her head toward him, squeezing her hands together nervously. Her toes fidgeted constantly and her legs bounced on the bed. Her anxiety and her ADHD were not a good combination and she forgot to take her Adderall when she woke up.

She knew that Dean wouldn't do that to her, even before he told her that. He was Dean Jonah Winchester and yeah, he was a gruff manly-man who didn't take anyone's shit, but he wasn't a brute and he had a heart of pure gold.

"I know you wouldn't," she whispered. "I just...I—"

"You don't have to explain," Dean said quickly. He didn't want to make her feel bad; that wasn't his intention. "Just take the time you need, okay? I'll still be here and you'll still be my shortcake."

The corner of Julia's lips quirked and her dimple appeared. "Thanks, Bean."

They'd be okay. It would just take a little time.

(Gif is not mine)

[spn-safeandsound]

04. Make Them Proud

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x04; Phantom Traveler

Word Count: 8,705

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, demons

Author’s Note: In this chapter, we’re seeing Julia step up. I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog and like!

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Dean's cheek was pressed against his pillow, in that median of sleep where you're aware but you don't want to be. The squeak of the door decided that he wasn't going back to sleep; he reached under his pillow to grab the large and very sharp knife he hid under there, ready to kill whatever son of a bitch was sneaking into their room.

"Morning, sunshine!" he heard Sam's cheery voice.

Son of a bitch, he whined mentally, leaving the knife under the pillow.

He groaned and yawned. "What time is it?"

"Uh, it's about five forty-five."

"In the morning?" he grumbled.

"Yep."

Dean sighed and pushed himself up slightly so he could turn around to look at his brother. "Where does the day go?" he sighed. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours," Sam lied.

"You liar," Dean accused as he sat all the way up so his legs hung in the aisle between the beds; Sam was just as good at lying as Julia, which wasn't very good at all. "because I was up at three and you were watching a George Foreman informercial."

"Hey," Sam raised his hands—which happened to be filled with coffee and doughnuts—defensively. "What can I say? It's riveting TV."

Dean narrowed his weary eyes at him. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is," Dean gave him a pointed look.

Not only was sleep good for your health and you needed it to survive, he needed Sam sharp during hunts. Since Julia was a newbie, he and Sam had to be more observant and ready to kick ass as ever before. Sam couldn't do that on two-hour naps alone.

Julia let out a soft moan in her sleep at their loud voices. Dean looked over at her as she rolled over in bed to face them, his morning wood growing all the more when he saw that her boobs were practically falling out of her tank top.

Jesus Christ.

Unfortunately, his amazing view was blocked as Sam sat on his side of the bed, giving Dean a disapproving look. Dean rolled his eyes at him and squirmed, trying not to think about Julia that way. It was proving more and more difficult the longer they spent time together. Julia was hot, plain and simple, and Dean was a man. Dean was a man who enjoyed the small shorts and tank tops she wore to bed and occasionally during training.

Sam lowered his voice, considerate of Julia's sleep since she so often stayed up with him after his nightmares. "Look, I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you," Dean interrupted him. "It's your job to keep my ass and Junior's ass alive so we need you sharp."

Sam pressed his lips together and shrugged.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted; it actually felt good to talk about it with someone other than Julia. He loved her to death and she was his sister in everything but blood but sometimes a guy just needed his brother. "but it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, it gets to you."

Dean grabbed the coffee that Sam offered him. "You can't let it," he said, taking a small sip of the nirvana that was Dunkin Donuts coffee. "You can't bring it home like that."

Sam blinked at him. "So, what? All this it never keeps you up at night?" he asked in disbelief; Dean shook his head. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really," Dean lied slightly. There were a couple of things that scared him slightly but those were few and far between. He couldn't afford to be afraid when he had so many people counting on him to keep them safe.

Sam scoffed and leaned forward, reaching under Dean's pillow to grab the knife he knew was hidden there.

"That's not fear," Dean took the knife back. "That is precaution."

"All right, whatever," Sam gave in, shaking his head. "I'm too tired to argue."

Dean's phone started ringing on the nightstand; he gave it a strange look and picked it up. No one really knew his number except for the Petersen family, Luke Alexander, Bobby Singer, Sam, and a couple of old friends. He certainly didn't recognize the number on the caller ID.

He answered the call. "Hello?"

"Dean?" a slightly familiar voice replied. "It's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your dad, and Luke Alexander helped me out a couple years ago."

Dean wracked his mind for the name and lit up when he remembered the guy. "Oh, right, yea. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

"No, no," Jerry chuckled, relieved. "Thank God, no. But it's something else and, uh, I think it could be a lot worse."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Can we talk in person?"

What had gone so wrong that Jerry was afraid of talking over the phone?

"Yeah," he agreed easily. "We'll be there as soon as we can, Jerry."

"Thanks, Dean. See you then."

Dean hung up the call and looked to Sam. "Pack your things," he ordered. "and get Julia up and going."

The thing about Julia was she was usually the second person who got up in the morning. She'd wake up and lay in her bed for five minutes, silently staring up at the ceiling—Dean had no idea what she thought about but it was her ritual—and then she'd get ready for the day. On the off chance that Dean was awake before her, he dreaded waking her up because she wasn't grumpy like a normal human being would be when waking up—no, she was just a pocketful of sunshine.

It pissed Dean off, especially when he, himself, had just woken up. If he was miserable, everyone had to be miserable. That was the saying, right?

Dean grabbed some clothing as Sam gently nudged Julia awake and went into the bathroom to change. He took only five minutes to get dressed, brush his teeth, and calm down his bedhead, so Julia could get in there right away.

They were on the road to Pennsylvania a half hour later.

-

It was colder in Pennsylvania than it was in Wisconsin—which was very weird—so Julia was happy to be in skinny jeans and a sweater as she trailed behind Sam, Dean, and Jerry—the guy who called them about the case—through an airport hangar. She'd never been in one where mechanics worked on the actual planes, so it was kind of a cool experience, to say the least.

Jerry was a very kind man that Dean, John, and her dad helped out a few years before. He had a nasty poltergeist that he needed killed and they were there to deliver. Julia hadn't even known that Dean ever hunted with her dad but it made sense that he knew about Dean's hunting capability. He wouldn't let Julia go off with him and Sam if Dean wasn't good enough to teach her and watch her back.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick," Jerry said gratefully as he led them through the hangar. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around, " he looked to Sam and Julia as he informed them, "Dean and your guys' dads really helped me out."

"Yeah, he told us," Sam said politely. "It was a poltergeist?"

"Poltergeist?" one of Jerry's workers asked as they passed him. "Man, I loved that movie."

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep working," Jerry snapped at him before addressing Sam. "Damn right it was a poltergeist. It practically tore our house apart."

Julia made a sympathetic noise as she kept looking around at the work being done around them, letting him know that she was listening even if it didn't seem like she was.

"I'll tell you something," Jerry turned to Dean. "If it wasn't for you, your dad, and Luke, I probably wouldn't be alive."

Nudging Dean in the arm, Julia gave him an impressed face. Dean rolled his eyes at her before looking back at their surroundings. If she was interested in the work, she knew that Dean was like an excited kid on the inside. Airplane mechanics was something he would probably die to learn about.

The four of them turned down another aisle so they could keep making their way to Jerry's office.

"John and Luke said you two were off at college, is that right?" Jerry asked Sam and Julia.

"Yeah," Julia confirmed with a smile. "We're finishing up online."

"They were real proud of you guys," Jerry stated. "Sam, your dad talked about you all the time."

Sam gave him a surprised look. "He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did," Jerry couldn't understand how strange Sam found that; the last time he spoke to his dad, they had a big blowout and Sam went off to Stanford. "Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's wrapped up in a job right now," Dean lied to him.

"What about Luke?" Jerry turned his head to quickly look at Julia. "He didn't answer, either."

That didn't surprise Julia, since he wasn't answering her calls either. It hurt but it didn't surprise her. "Oh, Dad's on vacation but he's good," she scratched her cheek. "He's got a birthday coming up."

"Well, we're missing the old guys but we get Sam and Julia," Jerry walked backwards so he could send Sam and Julia a smile. "Even trade, huh?"

Julia laughed and shook her head; she was a newbie, after all. "I doubt that."

Sam agreed. "No, not by a long shot."

Jerry didn't reply to their self-deprecation as they finally entered his office. Sam and Dean sat in the chairs in front of his desk while Julia hovered behind them.

"I got something I want you guys to hear," Jerry opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a CD, entering it into his desktop. "I listened to this and, well, it sounded like it was up your alley. Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours."

He pressed play. "Mayday, mayday," the pilot's voice was nervous. "may be experiencing some mechanical failure..."

The pilots voice filtered in and out and the plane descended rapidly toward the ground. There was a loud and raspy growl as the noise cut off, along with some indistinctive words that Julia couldn't make out. The whole thing sounded absolutely horrifying.

"Took off from here and crashed about two hundred miles south," Jerry informed them of the specifics. "Now, they're saying mechanical failure—cabin depressurized somehow and nobody knows why."

"Over a hundred people on board," he continued sadly. "Only seven got out. The pilot was one; his name is Chuck Lambert and he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh," he paused, shaking his head. "well, he's pretty broken up about it...like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, and, um, a list of the survivors," Sam requested.

"Please," Julia added with a sweet smile.

"Right," Dean nodded. "And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?"

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage..." Jerry clicked his tongue. "Guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean frowned but shook his head to assure Jerry. "No problem."

-

Julia perked up excitedly as Dean exited the photo store he insisted on stopping at. He was making new fake badges for them all and she was finally gonna get one of her own. It was funny, most girls her age were getting fake IDs to drink while underage—and she did that, too, of course—but here she was, ready to pretend she was some kind of government agent.

Dean had also promised to get her a couple of FBI badges while he was in the store, which made her excitement grow. She felt like it was a rite of passage that she was checking off of her list.

"You've been in there forever," Sam complained to Dean as he walked over to where they waited with the Impala.

Dean held up three brand new badges; one for him, one for Sam, and one for her. "Can't rush perfection."

Julia squeaked and grabbed the one with her picture. The rush of excitement flatlined when she saw intern stamped right under the line that proclaimed them as Homeland Security.

"Why am I always an intern?" she whined.

"Get used to it, shortcake," Dean pulled a small stack of other badges out of his jacket and handed them to her; all of them stated that she was an intern. "Until you sprout a few inches and age like the rest of us, that's what you'll be."

"I'm done growing," she mumbled under her breath. She hadn't grown past five-two since she was a freshman in high school. She wasn't that short, though, the Winchester were just a rare breed of giant.

"Mm, too bad," Dean gave her a cheeky grin.

"What did you tell the workers, anyway?" she asked; they couldn't have just given away all willy-nilly, could they? She wouldn't know, Abby and her dad went to a professional to get their fakes done.

"I told them that we get really into roleplay," Dean smirked.

Julia pressed her lips together, gave him a flat look, and then shuddered. "Gross. In your dreams, lover boy."

That didn't even explain Sam's badge.

"Oh, you can bet on it."

Sam rolled his eyes at the two of them and their bickering before studying the fake that Dean handed him. "Homeland Security?" he read. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new, you know?" Dean shrugged and crossed over to the driver's side, sliding into his seat. "People haven't seen it a thousand times."

Once they were all settled, Dean asked him, "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam informed him, having finished running the tape through a gold wave a half-hour before Dean came out of the store.

"Yeah?"

"Listen," Julia handed Sam his laptop and he grabbed it, pressing play.

"No survivors."

"No survivors?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

Sam shrugged. "Got me."

"So, it's what, a haunted flight?" Julia wondered.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers," Sam explained; Julia hummed. "Remember Flight 401?"

Dean nodded. "Right. The one that crashed; the airline salvaged some of its parts and put it in other planes. The spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights."

"Right," Sam confirmed. "Maybe we got a similar deal."

"All right," Dean sighed. "So, survivors—which one do you want to talk to first?"

"Third on the list. Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"Well, for one, he's from around here, and two, if anyone saw anything weird, it would be him," Sam stated.

Julia raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I spoke to his mother while you were getting a drink," Sam told her. "and she told me where to find him. Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital."

"Hmm," Julia figured he must have seen something horrible if he checked himself into a psychiatric hospital voluntarily. "Poor guy."

-

The psychiatric hospital that Max Jaffey was in was a lot nicer than she thought it would be. It looked like some kind of expensive retirement home, really, more than a hospital where people go to get healthier mentally. Max Jaffey walked with a limp, used a cane to get around, and had a bad attitude but Julia figured that it was because he just survived a massive plane crash.

"I don't understand," Max eyed the casual clothing they were in as the four of them walked into the outside area of the hospital. "I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"Right, well, some new information has come up," Dean excused. "So, if you would just answer a couple more questions..."

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?" Sam asked Max, jumping right in.

"Like what?"

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe voices?" Dean listed.

"No," Max shook his head as they sat down at one of the empty tables.

Dean hummed skeptically. "Mr. Joffey—"

"Jaffey," Max corrected him sharply.

"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Max nodded at Dean's question. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed," he said matter-of-factly. "I survived a plane crash."

"Uh-huh," Dean pursed his lips. "and that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?"

"I-I don't want to talk about this anymore," Max stammered.

Dean didn't back off. "See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."

"No. No," Max shook his head. "I was—I was delusional, seeing things."

Dean scoffed and looked over to Sam and Julia. "He was seeing things."

Julia glared at him and softened her gaze when she looked back at Max. "It's okay, Mr. Jaffey," she assured him gently; he softened considerably after Dean's bad-cop routine. "If you could tell us what you thought you saw, it would be helpful. Please."

Max exhaled heavily. "There was—there was this man and, uh, head these eyes...Uh, black eyes," he struggled to give her information; Julia could tell it was hard on him. "And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..."

"What?" Dean asked when he hesitated.

"He opened the emergency exit," Max confessed. "but that's—that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

"This man, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly?" Sam questioned. "It would look something like a mirage."

Max gave him a weird look. "What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

-

-

After a quick look at the passenger manifest, they tracked down the residence of the man who was sitting in front of Max Jaffey. The man's name was George Phelps and he worked as a dentist. They questioned his wife with Sam taking the sympathetic route—women responded much better to him than they did Julia—and all they got as answers was something about him having acid reflux and being afraid to fly.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the guy, other than the super strength and the black eyes. Dean proposed that they should take a look at the wreckage of the plane—twenty minutes later, it was officially the worst idea he ever had.

He stepped out of the suit shop that Julia insisted that he and Sam go in, dressed in a black suit and white dress shirt—he was matching Sam exactly, right down to the black tie the sales lady enthusiastically helped them pick out.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," he complained, messing with the suit jacket.

"No, you don't," Sam assured him before smirking. "You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance."

Dean gave him an offended look and then glanced down at his body.

Okay, maybe Sam was right.

"I hate this thing."

"Hey," Julia's voice came from behind them. "do you want to get to that wreckage or not?"

Dean rolled his eyes, not in the mood for a lecture, and turned to face her. His mouth went dry when he saw what she had picked out to wear to obtain the professional image that she wanted to project. She was wearing the hell out of a white blouse, a gray checkered-pattern pencil skirt, a matching blazer, and black heels.

She was straight out of every hot teacher fantasy he had ever had in his life.

The only thing that made him feel better about his obvious attraction to her was the fact that he was pretty sure she was checking him out, too. She certainly wasn't looking at Sam with those come-hither eyes.

I am fucking screwed.

"Max Jaffey was eyeing us up," she explained when she finished eyeing Dean. "Besides, you guys look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thanks, J," Sam snickered, looking over at Dean with a smirk. "You look amazing."

"Sam, you're so sweet," Julia beamed at him and began walking toward the Impala. "You boys coming?"

Dean groaned under his breath as he caught sight of the way the skirt cupped her ass. "Oh, yeah, I am."

"Dean!"

Thankfully, Julia didn't hear his slip-up.

They showed their badges to the guard at the evidence garage where the wreckage was stored and he waved them right through. He didn't even give them a second glance, so Dean had to admit that Julia was right about the monkey suits. They did give them a professional edge they hadn't had previously.

There was a lot of debris in the garage. It was spread out on an outline of the plane, each piece going where it would be if the plane was fully functional and intact. Dean pulled out his EMF Walkman from his pocket and put one of the headphones in his ear as they started walking around to examine the evidence.

"What is that?" Sam asked him.

"It's an EMF meter. It reads electromagnetic frequencies."

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is," Sam deadpanned. "but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?"

"Cause that's what I made it out of," Dean grinned proudly. "It's homemade."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Shut up, Sam," Julia nudged him out of the way with a roll of her eyes before addressing Dean, "That's really smart, Dean."

"Yeah, it's smart, Sammy," Dean boasted over at his brother. "Thanks, Junior."

Julia gave him a smile and left them, walking around to get her own look at some of the wreckage. He and Sam continued on in the aisle they were already in, waving the EMF around to see if it picked up anything.

As Dean moved it past the warped emergency handle, it whirled angrily.

"Jules," he called for her; she made her way back over to him and Sam. "Check out the emergency door handle."

Julia wrinkled her nose at it as Dean scrubbed his finger over the yellow dust that had collected on it. "What is that?"

"Only one way to find out," Sam sighed. He took out his switchblade and a small baggy, scraping some of the substance into the bag so they could check it out later.

Dean frowned at the yellow powder on his hand, casually wiping it off on the back of Sam's suit jacket. He shot his brother an innocent look when he turned back to him and acted like he hadn't just put an unknown substance all over his clothing.

And then an alarm started blaring. The three of them leapt into action, quickly running out of the warehouse just in time to dodge the security team. They looked around the corner before to make sure the coast was clear before making a run to the tall fence that was just locked down.

"Get ready to climb, Jules!" Dean called as he took off his jacket, throwing up on top of the fence so they wouldn't rip their clothing or get hurt from the barbwire.

Julia only stopped for a second to kick off her heels—how the hell did she run in those?—and throw them over the fence. She jumped up the fence as Dean and Sam landed on the other side, climbing over with only little difficulty. Dean had to admit that he was impressed she could go toe to toe with them on the fast getaway while wearing three-inch heels.

"Thank God I liked climbing trees!" she breathed as they took off running again, making their way to where they hid the Impala.

"And the monkey suits do come in handy," Dean added as he started the car and accelerated.

-

-

The yellow substance Sam scraped off the mangled emergency handle? Sulfur.

Sulfur meant one thing to Julia—demons. She was new to the hunting thing but she grew up learning about demons and how to deal with them. They were an Alexander specialty, to say the least.

In her room back at home, there was a devil's trap under the area rug. All of her rooms had one, wherever she lived from the moment she was born. She knew how to bless holy water, she knew the most basic exorcism from memory, and she knew how to identify them without moving a finger. She had never come face-to-face with a demon but she had trained to her whole life—hell, her college majors were kind of centered around fighting them.

It was some of the only things her father taught her and her siblings, no matter if they were going to be hunters or not. The Alexanders were too well known down in Hell to go out unprotected against the nasty bastards and even if Luke's children didn't share his last name, they were still targets.

So, that put her on main research detail for the first time since she started hunting. Usually she would be learning from Sam about what to look for and ways to break into prohibited databases but now he was learning from her.

It was kind of daunting but at least she had a couple of files on her computer that they could go through first. If they couldn't find the information they needed there, they would start searching the internet.

"Okay, whatcha got?" Dean asked from his spot on his bed. He had been reading through one of the files that they had printed at the local library for him while Julia and Sam used their laptops.

Julia's eyes darted to Sam, expecting him to give his brother a low-down but he just nodded at her.

"Okay..." she hesitated only for a second. "every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession. Christian, Native American, Hindu, and more."

"Yeah but none of them describe anything like this," Dean shook his head.

"That's not exactly true," Julia countered. "According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. Earthquakes, diseases, tornadoes, hurricanes...you name it."

Dean gave her a curious look. "And this one causes plane crashes?" she shrugged. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, backing Julia up. "Who knows how many planes it brought down before this one, you know?"

Dean made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and bowed his head, shaking it.

"What?" Sam asked him as Julia gave him a worried look.

"I don't know, guys," he scratched the back of his head. "this isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons? They don't want anything—just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big...I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah, me too," Sam agreed quietly.

-

Jerry called Dean soon after their conversation ended, informing them that his pilot friend, Chuck, had been killed in another plane crash. Sam and Dean went alone to investigate the wreckage and when they came back, they had more sulfur they needed Jerry to examine.

"All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert," Dean recalled. "This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be good news," Sam sighed from his place at Jerry's desk. He had just finished comparing the record logs from both flights.

"What would be the bad news?" Julia wondered.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight," Sam informed them. "And get this, so did Flight 2485."

Julia sighed in realization.

"Forty minutes?" Jerry caught her reaction. "What does that mean?"

"It's biblical numerology," she told him. "Like in Genesis when it rained for forty days and nights—Noah's Ark. The number means death."

"I went back and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in."

"Any survivors?" Dean asked Sam.

"No," Sam shook his head. "Not until now, at least. Not until Flight 2485, for some reason."

"The cockpit voice recorder—the EVP said no survivors," Dean said thoughtfully. "It's going after the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."

"Well, I guess we gotta lay it off," Julia commented dryly. No one laughed, not even Dean. "Yeah, okay, too soon. Sorry, sorry."

-

"Really?" Sam asked in his politest customer service voice, speaking to one of the Flight 2485 survivors. "Well, thank you for taking our survey. And, if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks."

"I see that the job you took at the hotline center really worked out for you, huh?" Julia leaned forward in her seat to speak to Sam.

"Hotline?" Dean looked over at Sam. "Like a sex hotline?"

"It was a missing persons hotline," Sam said absentmindedly as he checked the list of survivors and crossed out the last two names. "All right, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anything soon."

"So, our only wild card is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker," Dean stated.

"Right," Sam confirmed. "Her sister, Karen, said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight PM. It's her first night back on the job."

"That sounds like just our luck," Dean smirked.

"It's a five-hour drive to Indianapolis," Julia pointed out. "So, even with you at the wheel..."

"I'll manage," Dean declared. "Sam, why don't you call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages," Sam sighed. "She must have turned off her cellphone."

"We're not gonna make it."

Dean looked at Julia through the rearview mirror. "Since when are you Negative Nancy?"

"Since we're five hours away from Indianapolis and we can't teleport?"

"I bet you twenty bucks and three rounds of shots if we make it," Dean dared her, smiling mischievously over at Sam; Sam shook his head. "What? She has the money."

"She's also underage, Dean."

"Oh, come on, that's never stopped her before," Dean groaned. "Come on, shortcake. What do you say?"

Julia hummed thoughtfully. "What do I get when I win?"

"You don't have to give me twenty bucks and three rounds of shots?"

"No, no, no," she shook her head with a smirk. "If I win...you have to let me choose the music for one whole month—"

"Nope."

"—and let me drive Baby once."

"No fucking way!"

"What?" she mocked him. "You have the car."

Dean licked his lips and shook his head. "Fine," he agreed. "You're on, baby."

Julia shivered at the pet name and retorted, "No, I'll be driving Baby when we get there too late."

"Should you guys really be betting on this while lives are at stake?" Sam spoke up.

They didn't answer.

Julia owed Dean twenty bucks and three rounds of shots. In all honestly, she was relieved about the fact that they made it to an airport on time. Hopefully they'd have time to convince Amanda not to fly and save her and, in the process, the others on the flight.

With over a half-hour to spare, the three of them ran through the airport, trying to find a boarding schedule. Sam eventually found them, since he was a foot taller than everyone in the vicinity, and led Julia and Dean over to the monitors that it was showcased on.

"Right there," Sam pointed to the flight Amanda was expected to be on. "They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay," Dean sighed. "we still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone."

Julia looked around and spotted the courtesy center. They raced over to it and allowed Dean to call to one of the building's operators.

"Hi, Gate thirteen," Dean requested into the phone. "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on Flight 424."

The operator transferred Dean over so Amanda could answer the phone. Dean had the jitters while he waited for her to pick up, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Miss Walker, hi," Dean's voice changed, taking on a polite and courteous tone. "This is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."

"Nothing serious," Dean told her when she reacted. "Just a minor car accident but she was injured, so—" he paused, blinking rapidly. "You what? Uh, well, there must be some mistake."

Julia and Sam exchanged curious looks, both of them wondering what the hell was going on.

"Guilty as charged," Dean sighed in response to whatever Amanda asked him. "He's really sorry...Yes, but really needs to see you tonight, so—Don't be like that. Come on, the guy's a mess. Really, it's pathetic...Oh, yeah...No, no, wait, Amanda! Amanda—"

He slammed the phone back on the receiver.

"What happened? Is she skipping the flight?" Julia asked hopefully.

"Would I react that way if she was skipping the flight?" Dean asked her sharply as he paced back-and-forth in front of her and Sam. "Fuck! So close!"

Julia wrinkled her nose, wishing that Amanda would have given in.

"All right, it's time for plan B," Sam declared. "We're getting on that plane."

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned to face Sam with wide eyes. "Woah, woah, now just hold on a second."

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board," Sam reminded him. "and if we're right, the plane's gonna crash."

"I know."

"Okay, we're getting on the plane. We're gonna need to find the demon and exorcise it," Julia started planning immediately, pulling her debit card from her purse to hand it to Sam. "Sam you get the tickets, Dean and I will get whatever that will make it past security from the trunk and we'll meet back here in five."

Sam took the card and looked over at Dean, seeing the anxious look on his face. "You okay?"

"No, not really," Dean admitted. "I kind of have this problem with, uh..."

"Flying?" Julia guessed, wincing.

"It's never really been an issue until now!" Dean defended himself.

Sam gave him a flat look. "You're joking, right?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Dean retorted. "Why do you think I fucking drive everywhere, Sam?"

"Okay, so, Sam and I will go," Julia suggested, finding an alternative plan to their alternative plan. "We'll do this one by ourselves."

"What are you, fucking nuts?" apparently Dean had more of a potty mouth than usual because of his anxiety. "That plane is gonna fucking crash!"

"Dean, we can do it all together or J and I can go by ourselves," Sam said quickly, trying to get through to his brother. "I'm not seeing a third option, here."

"Come on, really?" Dean groaned; Sam nodded and he sighed nervously. "Damn it."

Thirty minutes later, they had successfully boarded their flight. Dean had insisted on sitting in the aisle seat and, because Sam was too freaking big to sit in the middle, that's where Julia was stuck—even though she had specifically requested for the window seat.

The only things that they were able to carry to defend themselves against the demon was the Walkman EMF, John's journal, Julia's journal, holy water, duct tape, and a rosary so Julia could bless more water if need be.

As the plane was toted onto the tarmac, Sam leaned over Julia to whisper to Dean, "Just try to relax."

Yeah, because when someone tells you to relax, it's so easy to do it.

"Just try to shut the fuck up," Dean hissed back, keeping his eyes on the magazine the flight attendant provided him.

Julia and Sam shared a secret smile and, as the plane took off, Dean stiffened. His hands went straight to the armrests to grip them tightly and, instead, he found Julia's hand. She was surprised to see him hold onto it, anyway, so she assumed that he had to be really scared.

Who knew that Dean Winchester, a hunter who had proclaimed he wasn't afraid of anything, would be nervous to fly?

Julia wrapped her fingers around his hand and squeezed, hoping that it would comfort him a little bit. He closed his eyes in relief when the plane was up in the air but blinked rapidly when the wheels retracted and people started clapping.

Julia knew she shouldn't be amused but she couldn't help it. How many times had Dean made fun of her hating spiders and most insects? The answer was a lot.

When Dean started humming a song to make the time pass, Sam looked over at him curiously. "Are you humming Metallica?"

"It calms me down," he replied quietly.

Sam scoffed, amused. "Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you need to stay focused."

"Okay."

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down—or whoever it's possessing, anyway—and preform a full-on exorcism."

"Yeah, on a crowded plane," Dean grunted. "That's gonna be easy."

"It'll be fine," Julia assured him, squeezing his hand that was still wrapping tightly around hers.

"One step at a time, all right?" Sam added his support. "Now, who is it possessing?"

Dean didn't answer, causing Julia to nudge him. "Dean."

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness. You know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm though," Dean gulped and recited the information he memorized from Julia's files. "Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up," Sam stated.

Dean hummed and turned to the flight attendant who happened to be passing them. "Excuse me, are you Amanda?"

"No, I'm not."

"Oh, my mistake," Dean smiled nervously as she walked on. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?"

"There's ways to test that," Dean answered Sam, leaning forward to grab the bottle of holy water from the bag at his feet. "We brought holy water."

Julia grabbed it from him and gave it to Sam to hold onto. "You should probably go more subtle. She's not gonna answer anything if you fling water at her," she said. "If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh," Dean nodded simply and stood up to walk to the back. "Nice."

"Dean!" she hissed, reaching out to grab his sleeve as he went to walk away.

"What?"

"Say it in Latin."

"I know."

He went to leave again but Julia stopped him again. "Dean, hey!"

"What?!"

"In Latin, it's Christo," she informed him with a sheepish smile. "Cree-stow."

Dean gave her an annoyed look. "I know, I'm not a fucking idiot."

As soon as he was out of hearing range, Julia turned to Sam. "Should we knock him out or something? I brought a couple of nerve pills just in case."

"Julia," Sam scolded her. "We can't knock him out. We're gonna need his help."

"I'm just saying, maybe it's better that he—"

"We'll need the backup," Sam said firmly. "Besides, he'd be so pissed at us."

"Fine," Julia sighed heavily. "We won't drug him, then."

Sam shook his head at her but she just sent him an innocent smile. Those never really worked on Sam, though. It was probably because he was the youngest child, himself, and used them from time-to-time to get out of things.

Dean came back within five minutes, heaving a sigh of relief when he sat back in his chair and buckled up once again.

"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet," Dean reported.

"You said Christo?" Sam checked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her," Dean said matter-of-factly. "There's no demon getting in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone, anywhere."

The plane rocked a bit as they hit turbulence and Dean freaked out, tightly gripping Julia's arm.

"Come on, that can't be normal!"

"It's just a little turbulence," Julia said soothingly.

"Julia, this plane is going to fucking crash, okay? Quit treating me like I'm fucking four."

"Stop acting like you're four then," Julia hissed; she was just trying to help him. "You need to calm down."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"I swear to God—"

"Listen to me right now," Julia snapped at him, grabbing him by the chin so he would look at her. "If you're panicked then you're wide open to demonic possession so you need to calm yourself down or I swear to all that's holy I will drug you."

Dean pressed his lips together and gulped uneasily. To placate her, because she was clearly very angry now and he had never really seen that feisty side of her, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Good boy," Julia cooed mockingly. "Now, I have an exorcism half-memorized—"

"Half-memorized?" Sam interrupted her skeptically.

"Relax, I have it in my journal," she sighed. "It's called the Rituale Romanum."

"What do we have to do?" Dean asked through his nerves.

"It's two parts," Julia informed them. "The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it stronger."

"Stronger?" Dean gave her a wide-eyed look; she nodded. "How?"

"It doesn't need to possess someone anymore so it can cause trouble all on its own."

"And why is that a good thing?"

"Because the second part sends the fucker back to Hell once and for all," she smirked. "That's why I only have it partially memorized. The one I grew up learning sends it back temporarily."

"Well, first we still need to find the bastard," Sam reminded them.

To remain inconspicuous, Julia stayed in her seat while Sam and Dean read the area with the EMF Walkman. Dean had their section of the plane, which was close to the front, while Sam did the back section. By the time there was only fifteen minutes left until the plane crashed, Sam and Dean had grouped together in the front section.

They stiffened when the copilot came out of the bathroom and they must have said Christo because Julia could see his black eyes from her seat a few rows back.

The boys hurried back to Julia and hurriedly told her to get up and walk toward the back. Julia gripped her journal to her chest and did as she was told, listening as Sam whispered the plan to her.

They were gonna ask the flight attendant, Amanda, to ask for the copilot and bring him to the back. Dean and Sam would tackle the guy, duct taping him and spraying him with holy water, and Julia would recite the exorcism.

"You really think this will work?" she whispered back to him.

"Well, we only have twelve minutes, so it's gonna have to."

Julia pushed back the curtain that separated the flight attendants' space and entered, Sam and Dean following her in. Amanda, a pretty blonde with a kind face, turned around in surprise, looking between the three of them.

"Hi," she greeted them kindly. "I hope the flight's not too bumpy for you."

"Actually, that's kind of what we needed to talk to you about," Dean sighed as Sam closed the curtain behind them for privacy.

"Um, okay, what can I do for you?"

"All right, this is gonna sound nuts but we just don't have the time for the whole the-truth-is-out-there speech right now," Dean stated firmly.

"Look, we know you were on Flight 2485," Sam told her.

Amanda's patient smile disappeared. "Who are you guys?"

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors," Sam continued on like she hadn't spoken. "We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure."

"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again," Dean finished. "Here and now."

"I'm sorry," Amanda shook her head quickly. "I'm very busy. I have to go back—"

"Wait a second," Dean pleaded. "We're not gonna hurt you, okay, but listen o me. The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert? He's dead."

Amanda flinched in shock. "Wait, what? Chuck is dead?"

"He died in a plane crash," Dean told her. "Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"I—"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now, maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't," Sam tried to convince her. "but there's something wrong with this flight, too."

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Julia finally spoke up.

Amanda blinked. "On—on 2485, there was this man," she recalled. "He had these eyes..."

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "That's exactly what we're talking about."

"I don't understand. What are you asking me to do?"

"Okay, the copilot, we need you to bring him back here," Dean requested.

"Why?" she gave him a weird look. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"We don't have time to explain," Julia said hurriedly. "We just need to talk to him, okay?"

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—"

"Do whatever it takes," Sam cut her off. "Tell him there's something broken back here. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit."

"I could lose my job for—"

"Well, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out," Dean said firmly.

Amanda hesitated and inhaled deeply before agreeing. She left the area, shutting the curtain behind her, and went to get the copilot. Julia, Sam, and Dean hid where the demon couldn't see them and prepared to jump out at it.

"Okay," the copilot entered through the curtain. "what's the problem?"

Dean cut him off with a sharp punch to the face, knocking the guy down on the floor by the emergency handle. Sam sprayed holy water on the demon—causing it to smoke and hiss in pain, its eyes flashing black—while Dean cut off a piece of duct tape and firmly placed it over his mouth.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked indignantly. "You said you were just gonna talk to him."

"We are gonna talk to him but we need you calm," Julia grabbed her arm and turned her away from the scene. "We need you outside the curtain."

"What—but I don't—what's going—"

"Don't let anybody in, okay?" Julia ordered the panicking blonde. "Can you do that?"

Amanda glanced back at the copilot, who was burning so much from the holy water that his shirt had holes in it, and nodded. She left the area and firmly closed the curtains behind her.

"Hurry up, Jules," Dean grunted as he fought to keep the demon under control. "I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

Julia nodded and opened her journal up to the page with the exorcism. She started reading the first couples of lines, pronouncing the Latin just like she learned in her many classes. The demon managed to throw Dean off of him and, before Sam could hold him down, ripped off the tape covering his mouth and grabbed Sam's collar.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" the demon taunted him. "She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!"

Julia paused, completely shocked at what the guy said, and shook her head. She knew that demons lied all the time, especially to throw someone off of their game. Dean punched the demon back away from Sam and held it down again, an angry Sam joining him.

"Julia!"

Julia continued reading the first part of the exorcism until the copilot's mouth opened wide, thick black smoke expelling from him. The smoke left the area through the vent by the ceiling while the guy it was possessing passed out.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked her.

"It's in the plane," Dean answered instead. "Hurry up and finish it."

Julia nodded but when she went to speak, the plane dipped drastically. The engines spluttered off and they fell straight down, causing everyone to scream. The journal fell out of Julia's hands as she held onto the door frame, her stomach dropping like she was on a roller coaster that had a hill a thousand feet high.

"Julia!" Sam shouted at her while Dean screamed like a banshee.

Julia squeezed her eyes shut, glad that she had memorized the last part. She recited it word-for-word, flowing perfectly as everyone on the plane screamed in fright. The further the plane fell, the dizzier she got, but she held up, finishing up the exorcism and sending the demon back to Hell.

The lightning that struck the plane when she finished the exorcism went away, the engines starting back up again. There was a collective sigh of relief as the pilot stabilized the flight, getting them back up at the proper flying level.

Julia exhaled heavily, deeply relieved that it was over. Her first demon was scary as hell but she did it. She actually did it.

She let go of the door frame and was immediately pulled into a hug by Sam. He gave her a happy kiss on the crown of her head before letting her go and turning to see if Dean was all right.

Dean was pale and looked like he was a second from passing out. His hair was stuck up all over the place by the gravity as they were falling and he looked ridiculous with the wide-eyed and pursed lip expression he was wearing.

"I'm never fucking flying again," he muttered as he stood up straight, his face slumping. He patted Julia on the shoulder. "Great job, shortcake."

"Thanks, D," Julia grinned at him. "Do you want that nerve pill now?"

"Fuck yes."

-

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do," Jerry said gratefully, smiling at Julia, Sam, and Dean as they stood outside of the parking lot. "A lot of people could have been killed."

Jerry reached out to shake Julia's hand and she returned it. He moved onto to Dean and then to Sam.

"Your dads are gonna be real proud," he told them.

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam let go of his hand.

The three of them went to get into the Impala but Dean paused and looked back at the older man. "You know, Jerry, I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for, like, six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry said simply, like it wasn't a huge bomb that he dropped.

"What?"

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked quickly.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him but I called his number," Jerry explained. "His voicemail message told me to give you a call. Thanks again, guys."

Jerry walked away and they got into the car. They were half an hour away from the airport when Sam sighed heavily. "This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number, like, fifty times. It's been out of service."

Julia pulled her phone from her purse and dialed John's number, putting it on speakerphone so the brothers could hear the voicemail message.

"This is John Winchester," they heard John's voice. "I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

As the dial tone dinged, signaling the end of the message, the Impala had never been so silent.

(Gif is not mine)