There was a knock at the door, loud and urgent. Sam sat straight up in bed, instantly awake. Beside him, Jessica groaned at the loud noise and buried her face deeper into her pillow. Avoiding disturbing her further, Sam slipped out of bed and crept quietly down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, the knock sounded again, louder and faster than before and Sam wrapped his fingers tightly around the handle of the knife he had grabbed from the vase on the coffee table. Cautiously, Sam peered through the peephole and started at what he saw. John stood out there and he looked terrible. Hurridly, the younger Winchester twisted the locks on the door until it was free to open and ushered his father inside.

It was strange seeing him like it always was. John had never felt like a father to him, more like a distant relative that is more a story than reality. Yet John Winchester stood before him, looking bedraggled and worn and completely unrepentant at arriving in the middle of the night. Sam allowed himself a few seconds to study his father. He had more grey hairs and wrinkles than he had three years ago but his eyes remained unchanged. They were dark and filled with sadness and regret. John was studying Sam the same way, cataloging the differences and growth that had occurred since they were last together.

"Sam." He whispered, his voice cracked and his eyes shone with unshed tears. It was disturbing to see his father this way, John didn't even cry at the funeral.

Before Sam would speak, there was a crash from the bedroom he had just left. John immediately stiffened and drew a gun, an old one that Sam didn't recognize.

"Sam, I am so sorry," John said before shoving him aside and running into the bedroom.

"Hey. Wait!" Sam cried, hurrying after his father. He burst into the room seconds after John and froze at what he saw. John had the gun cocked and aimed steadily at the man who held Jessica. She was crying and shaking and desperately trying to hold back another scream. The man behind her held her roughly against his chest and kept a knife pressed to her pale throat.

A drop of blood ran down the blade and splashed on the collar of her smurfs t-shirt. Sam could feel anger and protective rage burning in his veins but he forced them down if he moved to attack she would be slaughtered instantly. Sam raised his eyes from Jess's terrified face to that of her captor.

His voice caught in his throat as the yellow-eyes glinted in the darkness.

"Azazel," John said, his voice as even as the gun in his hand.

"Let the girl go." The demon laughed, a low wicked sound crawling up from his throat.

"Why? Do you think that gun would do anything besides annoy me further?" He said.

"Yes, It can."

The demon narrowed his eyes and pressed the knife harder against Jessica's neck, cutting deeper into her skin.

"Where did you get that?" He hissed, the yellow eyes darkened in anger.

"That doesn't matter. I know why you are here." John replied.

"And why is that?" Questioned the demon.

"You plan to kill Jessica Moore, to drive Sam back to hunting in his quest for revenge." Azazel frowned in confusion.

"You know more than you should John Winchester. Dangerous in your business."

"Perhaps," John said. "But I am not here to discuss that. I want to make a deal."

"What!" Sam cried. "No, you can't-" Before he could finish, Sam flew back into the wall and landed on the ground, groaning. As he pushed himself up, the useless knife slipped from his fingers

Aazeal chuckled and Jessica flinched in his arms.

"What deal?" He asked, almost casually. His horrible yellow eyes looked eager and curious.

"My life and Sam's vow to continue hunting for hers." John nodded at Jessica.

"You ask for the life of this pathetic meat sack. What about your older son, I hear he's been missing for a while now." His eyes glittered in glee as he watched pain cross the eyes of the hunter.

"The deal remains unchanged," John said, his voice taut with anger. He always grew tense when anyone mentioned his first born and whoever did soon regretted it. The demon was no exception.

"Deal." Said Azazel. The next seconds were blurred and rushed.

John was next to Sam suddenly, helping him to his feet and pushing the gun and something metal into his hands. Sam tightened his grip on them automatically.

"I am proud of you Sam." He said as he pulled his son into a hug. A jerk tugged at Sam's stomach and suddenly it wasn't John he was embracing but Jessica and they were outside and on the lawn.

"Sam, what happened?" She cried, burying her face into his chest and sobbing. They stood there, Jessica recomposing herself while Sam tried to understand what had just happened. Not five minutes later they jumped in surprise when an explosion shook the ground and flames burst the windows.

Sam stared in shock at the burning apartment, the flames curled upward and vanished into thick black smoke. The brilliant myriad of colors seems to taunt him, flashing orange and gold as they flickered into being. He tightened his arm around Jessica who, in return, scooted closer to him. Sam simply couldn't wrap his mind around what just happened. The yellow-eyed demon had just destroyed the normal life that he had worked so hard to build. The flames grew brighter even as the firemen shouted orders and rushed about, trying to halt the spread.

"Sam," Jessica whispered, her blue eyes meeting his. "What are you going to do?" Sam looked at his clenched fist and opened it. His father's keys sat inside his palm, the skin red from where he had clenched them too tightly. The keys to the Impala, his father's home and history covered in shiny black paint.

"Hunt, that was one of the conditions." He said, the words feeling hollow as they left his mouth.

"Not without me you're not." She said firmly, her voice and expression left no room for the protests that rushed to the front of Sam's mind.

"Yeah...thanks, Jess." She smiled and his heart lifted. Looking at her, barefoot and with a bloody cut on her neck but still strong and determined made him feel like, with her, he could do anything.