A/N: Once again, for some reason, my e-mail addresses are not working, so everything is going and coming slower then expected. For those readers of 'A Path to Darkness', the story's sequel, I'm crossing my fingers, will be up in the next two months. And, as for this story, there is a prequel, and I'm hoping to get a sequel going.

Beta: Rae Artemis

Fair-Warning

Everything was fine, or so every thing was thought to be.

In fact, she knew everything was fine; she had made sure.

The apartment was as clean as it could be. Windows un-streaked with double-duty Windex, fans dusted to perfection, couches vacuumed under, carpets done by professionals, and the wooden floors were freshly waxed. Even the pillows, she breathed, the pillows were fluffed up along with the curtains and hints of Febreeze whiffed throughout the room.

Surely, everything would go fine.

And Sam Winchester couldn't help but to wonder why she was having the major cleaning break-down of the year. If only she was allowed to tell him.

Gazing around the apartment, she couldn't help but start to pace. She was nervous, fretting, and Sam loved every bit of her when she was nervous. If only he could see her now.

Promptly ignoring the ringing of the phone, Jessica Moore made her way across the shag-beige carpeted floors to look out the window of their apartment's parking lot. No, he wasn't there.

Checking the time once again, Jess looked warily around the room; her gaze landing on the coffee table holding Sam's pre-law study guides. He'd left for class, she'd made sure of that; yet, she wondered if she should move them or not. She was almost positive he didn't know. She was nearly positive because she knew Sam hadn't talked to him in a very long time. And it terrified her.

The conversation she had on the phone with a man she only knew from pictures taken long ago, terrified her.

It was his voice, she confirmed. It was the chilling sounds of his voice.

He had Sam's voice; he had Sam's terrified voice.

She had only heard Sammy's terrified voice once before in her life; leaving her wanting to never hear it again. It was one month after they started dating; she walked in an alley way, figuring her prized bottle of water had rolled over there. Through the pitch-black desolated darkness, someone grabbed her. All she could remember was the man's (she presumed and hoped), rather sharp teeth on her neck, and Sam's terrified voice. And that was all; Sam had rescued her. Rescued her from what she thought to be a normal mugger out on the street; she simply had no idea.

And here again she heard it in his voice. John's voice.

There was something about the man she hardly knew, that scared her. Or maybe it was the nagging feeling that he had something to do with Mary's death. Maybe that was why Sam never wanted to talk to him.

And in that case…

But how could he be? After all, with her Sam so successful, and another successful older son doing missionary slash detective work in foreign countries, he probably wasn't as bad of a guy as Sam made out.

Jessica let out another long and lingering sigh. He was already five minutes late. This, in fact, was very much un-like Sam. Sam was always the impromptu, on-time type of a human being. And Jess, unfortunately was the direct opposite. But oh, had she caught on.

And it was now beginning to worry her. Had he been in a car wreck? Was he ok? Had he forgotten? Chickened out? Or just plain abandoned the fact?

No, fidgeting more and then letting out another sigh of relief; Jessica watched as she saw a rather tall, rugged looking, middle-aged man climb out of a black pick up truck. It had to be him.

Nearly three stories down and fifty feet away from the building, clear as day she could make out he had Sam's eyes, and as he grimaced, Sam's dimples. It most definitely was him.

"All right Ms. Moore," She confided with herself as she stood up straight and heaved a breath. "Here goes nothing."

Two weeks earlier

"Hello?" It was between her college algebra course and counseling course when Jessica pounced as her cell phone went off.

Sam, she knew was in the middle of doing pre-law research at the library and therefore had no time to use his cell phone.

And Elizabeth, her only other friend that could have the opportunity to call her at this time on campus was off in the Bahamas with, much to Jess's dismay, Elizabeth's new husband. There just was something about the man she didn't like.

"Are you Jessica Moore?" A deep, gruff and yet seducing voice rang in her ears.

"Yes," Even though her instincts were rebelling against it, she complied and slowly set down on a lone wooden bench in the small park. "Who is this?"

"My name's John Winchester," Oh, she most definitely knew who the voice belonged to now. "I need your help."

"How's that?" Her voice quivering, Jess looked around; sure that every eye in the park was staring at her.

"There's something I need to tell you. It's about Sammy, and our family."

She trusted Sam with her life, but she never doubted there were secrets buried. Even though the thought crossed her mind that it was an act of betrayal against Sam; this would be her one way of finding out the answers.

Present

"Mr. Winchester," Standing at the open door as if the ice age had once again sprung and she had joined the military, Jessica stared into the man's eyes she'd never thought she'd see, yet she'd seen every day for as long as Jess has known this man's son. He just had that kind of affect on people.

"Ms. Moore," John offered her his hand, standing calmly outside their apartment; charming grin and all plastered across his face.

"Please call me Jess," The long, curly, golden-blonde haired girl accepted his hand with a nervous smile. No, John wasn't nervous at all.

"Well in that case, Jess, please call me John," Letting her hand go, John, barely taller then the woman before him, moved closer to Jess and the door as his son's girlfriend frowned and blushed.

"I'm so sorry, John," Jess backed stiffly away from the door, gesturing for the man to come in. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, sweetheart, I'm good," Sam's eyes and dimples maybe, but he sure had his missionary son's charm.

"Well, then," Jessica, continuing to standing still, watched with her large green eyes un-blinking, as the father of her beau walked drill-sergeant like over to the couch and placed himself down. And she now wondered why Sam never was in the army or the marines. "Please make yourself at home."

"You'll have to excuse me for a moment," Jessica, with her own dimpled grin, gracefully stood up from the overstuffed chair in the family room and finished with a chuckle.

"No problem, dear," Two hours had gone by along with four cups of coffee much due to John's protest and Jess's eagerness to please. "I'll just have to steal another one of these cookies," Freshly baked with his son's girlfriend's secret recipe, John leaned over to the ottoman, and with a smile, took one.

Jessica, in the meantime, made her way to the bathroom.

It had been two hours of John telling stories of young Sammy and Dean; Jess complying with stories of Sam's college courses and greedy professors. They'd laughed, drank, and chatted lightly; and now her nervousness had vanished and she wanted answers.

As much as she did want answers; she knew Sam could be home any hour, and now, withdrawing her cell phone from her jean's pocket, Jessica would call Chris, Sam's best friend, to stall him. It was God awful and secretive, she knew, but she had a net cast; a plan worked out. That plan just happened to include Chris.

Munching away on his fifth cookie, John watched subtly as Jessica walked towards, what he assumed to be, the bathroom.

He was jealous; envious in fact, of Jessica Moore.

He shouldn't be, the man revived himself; but she was the one, who had seen his son through college, seen him get his first damn beer, or maybe that was Dean; but she'd seen him go through his better years, and of that, he was jealous. He was jealous of the stories, jealous that she was living with his son, Sammy had to know better than that – what would Pastor Jim say?

Jealous that she knew before Sam's whole damn family that Sam, HIS Sam was going to law school. And how much of this did Dean know?

It had been two hours or better, and they had chatted merrily; something which he had not planned to do. What he'd planned on, in fact, was to warn her. Warn her of something that would destroy her life, and his sons. There were signs – he was much aware of that. His spies and his own spying on Sam throughout his boy's college years had shown the signs.

And now just recently, faint electrical storms, six cattle deaths known, and severe temperature fluctuations; he knew what was going to happen, and it scared the shit out of him.

But how would he tell Jessica? He was sure, more than ever now, that this was the girl Sammy should marry. And it would only be a matter of time.

"John," Taking her place yet again, Ms. Moore wished that Sam was there; wished that Chris, Elizabeth, and who-ever-the-hell her new husband was, were there. She wanted protection; because now, after her 'bathroom break', she felt more scared than ever. "I know you came here for a certain reason," She continued on, biting her lip; right now was get-serious time. "And I don't know if that's because you need to know who you're son's friends and girlfriend are, what college courses Sam's taking, or how Sam really is; but I know you want something, and I'm going to try to answer that."

"What did Sam tell you I did for a living?" Dear God, he knew why Sam loved her so much; her blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, and classic-beauty features so much like Mary, yet her bold and quirky, demanding personality like Dean. This was how he'd start.

"Well," Jessica started out and then paused to gather her thoughts. "He told me you're a part time accountant, and used to be a high-ranking US officer."

"And you believe that's true?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Disconcerted, Jessica's eyes widened once again to the size of saucers as she responded.

"Dean and I," John paused and looked around his son's apartment. Beyond the beige-shag carpeting, overstuffed, yet extremely comfortable sea-foam green couch and chairs, brick fireplace, walk-in kitchen complete with wooden floors and a wooden hallway leading to two bedrooms; the one thing that caught his eye the most were the pictures decorating the mantel, brought out by the flicker of coffee and cookie dough scented candles. Among the pictures of Sam and his college buddies, Sam and Jessica, Jessica and, he assumed, her parents, was a lone picture of a photo he kept in his 'demonic journal'. A picture of him, the love of his life, baby Sammy, and just four year old Dean. That very picture, knowing his baby boy still kept it alive even though they had a fight worst than war, caused John's heart to flip, and then very slowly, break. "We're hunters."

"Oh," Jessica followed John's gaze, letting her lips form into a delicate look of misunderstanding. "That's neat."

"No, Jessica," John, regaining composer, forced himself to look at the creature he envied. "Dean and I hunt," John paused, sure enough that tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He could ruin his son's life now, by explaining to Jessica how Sam had 'fibbed' so to speak to her, or he could ruin his son's life later, letting Jess be raptured up to the ceiling and burn in flames. Option one. "We hunt the supernatural."

"Come again?" Jess, completely caught off-guard by the last four words coming out of Daddy Winchester's mouth caused the intelligent blonde to look up, falling back on her nervous habit of biting her fingernails. "Oh," Jess let out a snort and laughed nervously, glancing the all-too-serious John in the eyes. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not." Casting another gaze around the room, John willed himself to carry on. "When Sam was exactly six months old, Mary died in a fire."

"So Sam has told me,' Jessica answered melancholy. This joke was not funny.

"The fire was caused by a demon," Voice trembling, John carefully laid his gaze on Jessica.

"Mr. Winchester, I think you should leave," Firm as her mother, Jessica stood up, eye brows raised, arms crossed, she turned towards the door.

"Jessica," John, ignoring the un-welcome gesture, continued his sitting yet trembling position on the couch.

"You're serious," Turning around once again, Jessica faced the man before her; beginning to realize how much in need he was of a good bath, how torn and dirty his jeans and shirt were.

"Ain't got a hundred pounds of ammo and rock salt out in my trunk for nothing," John replied easily and then dejectedly turned his gaze away.

"So, this demon," Jessica, after shifting her lean wait, cautiously walked over and sat down beside John. "Killed your wife?'

"And it's killed so many others before her," John solemnly looked at Jessica, letting her observe and sink him and the news in.

"On the phone you said you wanted to warn me," Biting her trembling lower lip was something Jess could get an award for, as of this very second it could be the world-renown prize. "You think it's after me now, don't you?"

"There are signs."

Jessica shook her head, blinking one last time before she looked at John, dead-on. "I knew Sam had been hiding something, Mr. Winchester. I always, ever since I was a little girl believed that there might be something more out there."

"There-"

"I'm a Christian, Mr. Winchester," Jessica jolted up suddenly, ready to confirm something, yet she had no idea where in the world she was right now. "But I always thought there could be something more out there."

"I know it sounds ridicules right now," John took the young woman before him in; she was trembling, fretting with her fingers, and looking everywhere in the room but him. "But you've got to believe me. I need you to live."

"How's that?" Jessica, now looking directly at him, demanded.

"Either accept the fact one-hundred percent, be on the look out completely, and have Sam. Or-"

"Time, Mr. Winchester, I need time," Jessica responded, yet again rebellious, and let herself to stand up.

"Time is the one thing you don't have," With that, Jessica watched as John Winchester lifted himself up, off of her couch, pace across the family room, open the door, and left.