Disclaimer: The CW owns the Winchesters, and anyone/anything else you might recognize from Supernatural. Jane and her dad are mine. Hetchinger's belongs to RRP © and BoD ©. Mars and Dr. Harrison belong to myself and Agaryulnaer (and themselves).

Jane

Chapter One

One Year Earlier

"The sun is shining today in Astoria, a rare occurance in October. More rainclouds on the way, folks, so don't put away your umbrellas just yet. There's a high of fifty today, but temperatures will be dropping down to close to freezing tonight as another cold front moves in-"

Jane reaches up to change the dial on her radio; her Audi dates back to the Stone Age, before the invention of electronic tuners. Growling in annoyance, she lets go of the knob so she can flip on her turn signal, almost missing the turn onto her street. A burst of static fills the car, but she doesn't pay it any mind. At least not until she hears the shriek.

Terrified that one of the children playing in a nearby yard had somehow run into the street without her noticing, she slams on the brakes, her Psychology textbook falling to the floor of the car with a thump. But there's no one in front of her, and the radio, which had gone silent for a moment, returns to static.

Wide-eyed, Jane reaches out and turns the damned thing off, ignoring the shiver that's running down her spine. Decrepit old car.

She makes it home without any more strange incidents, pulling into her driveway and sliding out of the car, staring up at her house. All of the curtains in the old bungalow are drawn; she sighs. Had her father even gotten out of bed yet, today?

Mom wouldn't want this for him, she thinks as she lets herself in. The same thought crosses her mind every day, as it has for the last ten years, since her mother had died. She wouldn't want him to throw away his life like this. But her father will roll out of bed around six, as usual, throw on his work clothes, and troop off to the docks, as he has every day for the last ten years, leaving her alone. Again.

"Dad, I'm home!" she calls, locking the door behind herself and dropping her book and notebook onto the hallway table with her keys. "Are you up? I'm going to make spaghetti!"

Half an hour later, though, she's put dinner on the table, gotten them both drinks, and eaten her own food, but her father hasn't emerged.

Annoyed, she stands, throwing her napkin onto the table. He's coming down here. She stomps up the stairs. "Dad, this is crazy. Come down and eat. You can't just starve yourself-"

There's a horrible stench coming from her father's bedroom. Like… rotten eggs.

Something scratches on the door, and then slams into it; Jane jumps. The hair on the back of her neck is standing straight up. "Dad?" she calls softly. She puts her hand on the doorknob-

He's not here anymore… An old woman's crackly voice echoes through her mind.

Jumping again, she spins in a circle. "Who said that?"

The hallway is empty. But… she hadn't heard it… not really heard it.

Not out loud.

Silly little girl…

Slowly, she puts a hand to her forehead. It's my imagination playing tricks on me. "I'm not hearing voices."

Come in and play, dearie…

"I'm not!"

Shoving the heavy old door open, she runs into the room, seeing her father still lying in bed. "Dad, wake up, you have to wake up!"

Something breaks out in the hallway, and the old woman cackles in her head.

"Dad!" She yanks hard enough on his shoulder that he rolls onto his back, his dead eyes staring at the ceiling, face frozen in a permanent expression of terror. Shrieking, Jane leaps back, hitting the wall.

She's a pretty one, she is. Now it's a man's voice.

She's mine! You can't have her! The old woman is back.

Stop me, then.

Jane is clutching her temples now, crouched down and crying. "He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead, go away!"

It's all right, dearie. He's with us, now. Come play with us. Come, over to the window… Shaking, Jane raises her head, only to see the drapes draw back from her father's window, the latch unlocking itself as she window opens out. "No," she whispers.

Mummy's here. She wants to say hi… Come on, dearie…

"NO!" Still clutching her temples, Jane runs out of the room, gasping for breath and sobbing. She almost falls down the stairs, yanking open the front door and throwing herself out into the front yard, where she falls to her knees and curls up in a ball.

The children playing in the yard next door stop and stare at her, while up on the second floor, the one open window closes and latches itself once more.