AUTHOR'S NOTES - CHRONICLES OF JEFFERSON

Jefferson is an OC that I have expanded on from the mention of him in Season 1 Supernatural during the time Dean and Sam are looking for John. I never actually included the story Asylum in Highway to Hell but that is where Jefferson is first mentioned. There is nothing anywhere else in the series or on Supernatural Wiki to indicate who Jefferson was or what he was like... so I made it up myself!

This is my take on Jefferson. And he's a lot of fun :)

Chapters you'll see mention/guest appearances of Jefferson include:

All Hell Breaks Loose
Chapter 8 – No Exit
Chapter 20 – Hollywood Babylon

Hell To Pay
Chapter 3 – The Kids Are Alright
Chapter 17 – New Years Eve – Kiss Me Slowly
Chapter 21 – Today, Tomorrow & Forever

To Hell & Back
Chapter 2 – Even in Death
Chapter 4 – Dark Places
Chapter 5 – Lazarus Rising
Chapter 6 – Are You There God?

Between Heaven & Hell
Chapter 1 - Sympathy for the Devil

I welcome any and all suggestions on what you'd like to see with Jefferson, some more storylines, or anything you'd like to know about him. This won't be updated regularly as my primary focus is on the Supernatural Dean & Beth series I'm writing :) But every now and then there's going to be an episode where I need a little extra help, and Jefferson will likely be my man for that!

Enjoy :)


Feels like we're chasing things we just can't reach

As we try to wake from this dreamless sleep

And I know we're better than these things we've done

The days run like wild horses over the hills

And we may not find it at 100 miles an hour

If we're still trapped by yesterday, we'll always be a hundred miles away

Seein' our ghosts, Seein' our ghosts,

Seein' our ghosts everywhere we go

Seein' our ghosts, Seein' our ghosts

Seein' our ghosts everywhere we go


SEEING OUR GHOSTS

Author's Notes: Jefferson's version of events (and more) of Are You There God? From my fanfic To Hell & Back.


One day ago

Blue Earth, Minnesota

I'd heard the name Castiel before, I was sure of if, but I had to be certain before I went down that route. Almost twenty years tended to blur names from the mind, and especially when it came to the beings I was thinking of, a lot of their names were similar but not the same. I had to be sure, and there was only one way to make certain of it. Patrick's old diaries.

Fortunately it was only a six hour drive back to Blue Earth; I wearily stomped up the stairs to my room, pulling off my jacket. I needed sleep, I'd barely slept in days, a feeling of disquiet had been around the chapel and house, Beth's nightmares more frequent and troublesome. We needed answers, but a few hours of sleep wasn't going to hurt anything. There was no way my eyes were going to stay awake long enough to read through those journals tonight. It would wait until morning.

I crashed on to the bed, not even bothering to kick off my shoes, face down in the pillows I let the comforting feeling of sleep overcome me, and I dreamt of days past, of demons and lost children, of redemption and life's purpose claimed.


17 years ago

Reno, Nevada

I was tied to a chair, the ropes biting into my wrists and almost drawing blood I was straining against them so hard. I looked up into the faces of my captors and they were staring down at me. There were two of them: a dark-haired man in a brown leather jacket and cold brown eyes, and a blonde man sporting a simple sweater and jeans, a rosary hanging around his neck. A rosary?

With a snicker I laughed in their faces. "Do what you want to me, I'm not telling you jack shit," I heard myself say, but it hadn't been what I intended to say. But I wasn't myself. Something had taken over me and I was trapped in my head, in my body.

The men exchanged a look and the dark-haired one stepped forward with a menacing look, punching me in the nose. I felt the sickening crunch of bones breaking and the pain seared through me. Still I laughed.

"John," said the other man. "There's a human in there," he cautioned.

"I don't care, Patrick," John said, "he knows where my boys are and I want them back, now!"

Boys? What boys? I tried to think and then, if I'd had control of my body I'm sure my eyes would have widened at the memory coming, as if watching a movie from afar. Two boys, one about twelve, one about eight. And a girl somewhere in the middle of them both. Three of them, and I'd taken them from a motel room. Where had I taken them?

"There are other ways," Patrick said, and he drew out a silver knife, holding it up. I felt the thing inside of me shift nervously, like a ripple moving throughout my body and it withdrew just a little to give me more presence in my own body. I fought for this little bit of control, like pushing against the rapids in a river, trying to say something, anything to let them know I was here.

Patrick took the knife and dipped it in a bottle of water and the thing withdrew even more. I struggled against the ropes and still there wasn't enough to break free of his control.

"So you have a fancy knife, big deal, ain't nothing compared to what's gonna happen to me if I talk," I said, the words coming unconvincingly from my lips.

Then a scorching burn as the knife was dragged across my arm slowly and deliberately. I screamed from the pain, it was like nothing I'd ever felt in my life. But the thing knew, it shuddered, and memories of a fiery place with whips and chains, other assorted tools of torture came unbidden to mind. It gasped, terrified of returning but also scared to go through that sort of pain again. It gave me the opportunity I needed to push through the barrier, to reclaim my own mind.

I felt as if I was pushing through a layer of skin or flesh, finding that little cut in the membrane that was only so small, but as I whittled away at it like a knife I made the hole bigger until I could fit my hand through, and then another hand, until I finally broke through.

"Stop!" I cried out as the knife went for my arm again. "Please! Help me! I can tell you where they are, I know where they are!" I said, looking urgently at the men.

Patrick pulled back and glanced at John, frowning.

"It's a trick," John said, crossing his arms.

"They're in a warehouse, on the outskirts of town, I can take you there," I said quickly, but I could feel the rising darkness again, it was creeping up on me like tendril of dark smoke, encircling me, pulling me back down and then I was pushed to the back again, losing control.

"And Grace?" Patrick asked, looking at John who was already grabbing his bag.

"Eat shit and die," I said to Patrick and he stepped back. I felt my eyes almost go dark and wondered why that was, there was a dark film over everything, but other things were highlighted. The pulse at their throats, the thumping of their hearts, I could see their souls shining brightly in their bodies. And then it faded again.

Patrick pulled out a book and flipped to a page.

"Patrick let's go," John said, standing in the doorway.

"No, I'm not leaving this kid like this," Patrick insisted.

"We don't have time for this! Do you want to find Grace and save the kids or not?!" John asked, scowling.

"This is my work John!" Patrick said turning and frowning back. "The Lord will take care of my daughter, I have five minutes to save this boy."

"God! Where was God when that thing took Mary? Where was he when Grace was taken? You're a fool Patrick O'Malley," he said and he left the building, and I was alone with the other man.

He looked at me and sighed, flipping open the book again. He started to speak in Latin and the thing inside of me screamed, thrashing my head around trying to escape the pull. I could only describe it like fishing. It was as if a line hooked into whatever the thing was, and then the battle began. The thing pulled a little, and the more Latin that was spoken tugged at the thing, and they fought against each other, one trying to reel in the fish, the other trying to get away. But in this case, the fisherman was going to win.

With a deathly scream a cloud of black smoke erupted from my mouth and suddenly I was back in my body, watching as the smoke sunk into the ground below and disappeared. I gasped for breath, looking at my saviour and smiling.

"Thank you," I said, nodding at him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Patrick said, using the knife to cut me free of the bonds. "You have helped me in more ways than you can tell. I need to ask one more favour of you my friend," he added, helping me to my feet.

I nodded. "Anything."

"Show me where this warehouse is, and tell me, was there a woman with long dark hair and eyes like blue sapphires?" He looked pained, like a man grieving and I nodded.

"Yes, she had me bring the children to her," I answered honestly. He smiled and grasped my shoulder, leading me out of the house we were in to an '87 Plymouth Gran Fury.

"Good, good, then I must hurry," he said and I knew then I was going to do anything to help this man who had saved me, even at the risk of losing his daughter.


Present Day
Blue Earth, Minnesota

The sight of Pam and her burned out eyes had chilled me to the bone, I'd never seen anything like it, and it didn't sound like something an angel could or would do to a human. Of course there was the chance it wasn't an angel, but I doubted it. What else had the power to pull a man's soul out of the Pit? In all my time studying with Jim and Patrick, we'd never heard of anyone being rescued from Hell – certainly not by any demon. Which only left one thing: Heaven's intervention.

The journals were stored at the chapel, along with Jim's, locked away where a few of us could access the wealth of demonology that these men had acquired over the years if needed. The journal I was looking for was from almost twenty years ago, it was thick and full of entries in Patrick's messy handwriting. I'd always lectured him about taking more care with his penmanship, that one day some of us might need to be able to read his scrawling when we wasn't around to translate. He hadn't listened and laughed it off: just like Patrick.

The journal I recognised from when I'd met him; it was old, worn and well read. I pulled it from the shelf, starting to flip through the pages, old memories locked away from years of neglect started to spring to mind as I looked for the name, the evidence I would need that I had indeed heard it before, that Patrick knew not only of angels, but of this one in particular.


17 years ago

Reno, Nevada

"There," I said, pointing to the warehouse. There weren't a lot to choose from, and apparently John had already come to the same conclusion because his Impala pulled up behind us as we shut off the engine. He got out, and looked at Patrick, almost apologetically but then it was shut behind a mask of determination and hardness.

"How many are in there?" Patrick asked and I shook my head.

"Four, I think," I said. "That's all I remember."

"Okay, thank you, we'll take it from here," he said. I reached out and grabbed his arm.

"No, I'll help you get the children, I know exactly where they are," I said to him, my heart starting to beat a little faster at the thought. I'd never felt so terrified but so alive in my whole life.

"How old are you kid?" John asked.

"Eighteen, sir," I answered, standing up straight.

"Well, kid, you should be off chasing girls and having fun, this is no game," he muttered and I shook my head.

"I've been doing that since I was thirteen, I'm no stranger to danger," I countered and it was true. My parents were forever mortified at the daredevil stunts I pulled as a young teen, and now that I was grown, I didn't see myself slowing down any time soon. I'd gotten those kids into trouble; I was going to get them out.

"It's not your responsibility," Patrick said.

"Maybe not, but even I'm smart enough to know that three against four is better than two," I pointed out. "I want to help."

A woman walked along a row of upstairs windows and Patrick pulled us behind a van, watching her with stunned eyes.

"There she is," he said to John, and they both watched as she continued along the walkway until disappearing from sight.

"Who is she?" I asked, glancing at the man.

"My wife," he said, looking at her sadly. "Or at least, she used to be before that thing took her from us."

"The demon?" I asked, recalling what Patrick had said to me on the drive to the warehouse about demons and possession.

"Yes," John answered, sighing. He looked at Patrick. "It'll take us both to get to her," he said, glancing over at me. "Let the kid get the boys and Elizabeth."

Patrick nodded, turning to me and staring into my eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked, grasping my shoulders and watching me intently.

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life," I said.

"All right, take this flask of holy water, it'll slow down any demon you might come across, don't waste it." He put an amulet around my neck and I looked down at it curiously. "This will stop you from being possessed again," he said.

"What's your name kid?" John asked, kneeling down and checking his own supply of holy water.

"Jefferson," I said, holding out my hand. He ignored the hand, but smirked up at me.

"Well Jefferson, this is your big moment. Don't hesitate, don't stop, we'll draw them off so you should be able to sneak in and not encounter any resistance. Just get our kids out safe," he said and I nodded.

"Yes, sir," I replied, almost wanting to salute him, there was military there, in both of them, but John was hardened like he'd been doing this a long time. Unlike Patrick, I never saw myself being entirely friendly with this man. He was on the edge and a little scary.


Present Day

Blue Earth, Minnesota

It took me a little while to find the entry, it was short and didn't hold a lot of detail, but when I did, the name stood out stark on the page. Castiel. I quickly read through the entry, the memories coming back to me as if from the grave.

Castiel came when I summoned him. He had no patience for my request for assistance, saying there were greater things he had to see to. I told him we were going on the hunt to find Grace and asked if he knew where she was, he said he did not, that there was something shielding his ability to locate her, even with her connection to him. I can't rely on the angels, instead I have called John. I have a lead, someone has seen her in Reno, we're leaving tonight.

I sighed, looking at the entry. Damn. What did this mean? I'd met the angel once before, a few days after this entry, and he certainly hadn't struck me as very accommodating. What did it mean that he was the one who had pulled Dean out of Hell? My stomach twisted a little, thinking about how this was an angel who was connected to Beth, there had to be a relationship between the two, she had done nothing but pray for their intervention the whole time Dean was in Hell; it now looked like those prayers had been answered, but why? Angels rarely did things out of the goodness of their hearts, there was always a reason... or at least that had been my experience.


17 years ago

Reno, Nevada

I crossed into the warehouse while John and Patrick entered from another door, doing as promised and drawing the attention of the demons away from me. I crept through the multitude of hallways to the south of the building where a network of cages was set up.

As I approached the cage where I had left the children I could hear a little whimper from the girl and then one of the boys reassuring her.

"Don't worry Beth, I won't let anyone hurt you," the older one said, and he pushed her behind him with his brother as I reached the door.

Beth shrieked a little as I got to the door and I shushed them. "I'm here to help you," I said. "Your dads are here and they're helping me to rescue you."

The older boy, Dean, looked sceptically at me. "You brought us here, why should we believe you?" He asked, backing the others toward the rear of the cage.

"I can't explain, but I wasn't myself, please, I need to get you out of here and away from the bad guys," I said. This wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.

"Oh yeah? Well if you were really talking to my Dad he'd have told you the password," Dean said and I frowned, almost feeling panicked.

"Password? He didn't give me a password!" I said and Dean just crossed his arms, watching me closely. I looked around, holding the bars to the cage as I looked in at him. "I swear, he didn't say anything about a password, just told me that this was my moment and I better not let him down."

"I want to see my Dad," Beth said, taking Dean's hand and looking at him. He glanced down at her and then he nodded.

"It's okay Beth, my dad sent this guy, we're getting out of here," he said to me. I nodded confirmation.

I looked at him, confused, and he snickered. "Dad doesn't do passwords, but he definitely puts the fear of God into people...and you got that mister," he explained.

I had the key with me, having collected it from where I'd left it, and with a grinding creak the door opened, the kids came out one by one. Dean positioned himself between me and the others in protective mode. I handed him a knife I'd collected on the way and he nodded at me appreciatively. I didn't think the knife would do anything against the things we were trying to avoid, but at least it make him feel better.

Taking the lead, I waved them down the long corridor and away from where John and Patrick had been going after the woman.

Suddenly a scuffle broke out in the large open area to the left of us and I saw John fighting with one of the other demons. Patrick came up behind him and stabbed the demon through the throat, the body of the attacker falling to the ground. The woman who the men had been looking for was leaving the area, moving quickly toward the back rooms where the children had been kept.

"Grace!" Patrick called out, and she turned to look at him before her eyes turned pitch black and she held out her hand, sending them flying against the wall.

"Mommy!" Beth screamed and started running toward the woman.

"Beth, no!" Dean called out and started to chase after her. The woman, Grace, turned to stalk toward the girl as Patrick scooped her up and turned away.

"Get away from her!" The man snapped and the demon kept walking toward him.

"You won't hurt the body, Patrick," said the creature possessing Grace. "You won't kill your own wife."

"Maybe he won't," John said, coming up behind her with the knife they'd been using earlier. "But I will."

She paused, turning to glance back at him and then smirked, shaking her head. "Always a thorn in the side, Winchester, didn't you learn to stay out of things when your wife died?"

John yelled and ran at her with the knife, she skirted away from him as he slashed open her arm. Suddenly her face grew serious.

"Ow!" She said mockingly.

"There's more where that came from," John said, crouching low with the knife.

She hesitated, glancing from John, to Patrick and the girl, and then she cursed at them, waving toward something invisible.

"Sic 'em boy," she said and there was a low growling. "Good bye Patrick, better luck next time," she said. Grace turned with a smile, and walked casually away from the men. Beth was screaming for her mother, Dean had returned to Sam and was pulling him toward their father, I hovered near them, determined to keep them safe.

"Hellhound!" Patrick yelled and John spun to look for it, but whatever they were talking about was invisible. Turning, he grabbed Sam in his arms and ran. I pushed Dean ahead of me as Patrick carried Beth out of the warehouse. Once we got out the door Patrick handed the girl to me and turned, pulling a bag from his belt and scattering some black dust at the door.

"That should hold it for now, we need to go now!" Patrick said, pushing us toward the cars.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Goofer dust," he said. "Old world recipe, keeps Hellhounds at bay," he said as we ran. "Take Beth and follow John."

"What about you?"

"I'm going after Grace," Patrick said, looking to John and holding out a hand for the knife.

"No Patrick, it's too dangerous, we need to get the kids to safety," John said, tucking the knife in the back of his pants.

"It's Grace!"

"No it's not! It hasn't been Grace for a long time!" John yelled back and the men faced off as I watched.

"I can't just leave her," Patrick said, tears in his eyes.

"Yes you can, Patrick. You need to think of your daughter," John said, moving the boys toward the car. "There will be another chance."

I put Beth in the back of the car, climbing in with her. John had the boys in the Impala and Patrick looked torn. Finally he reached a decision, running to the Plymouth and getting in, turning the engine over. John peeled out from the warehouse and we were hot on his heels.


Present Day

Blue Earth, Minnesota

I put the journal into my messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder as I headed for the door. It was time to get back to everyone else and see whether or not they had made any further discoveries. I didn't know if this knowledge as to who Castiel was would help or hinder matters, but perhaps it was time to front up and tell Beth exactly what I knew, things that I'd been keeping from her for decades.

As I walked down the stairs toward the front door the air suddenly turned cold and I paused on the bottom step, seeing my breath start to fog up. I glanced around and the lights started to flicker.

"God dammit," I muttered, moving quickly toward the kitchen where there was extra salt. As I flipped the switch nothing happened; fortunately it wasn't dark outside, and there was some sunlight peeking through the drawn blinds. I pulled on one and light flooded into the room, my breath fogged up again and I looked up into familiar blue eyes.

"Grace..." I said in surprise.

"Jefferson," she said with a smile. I staggered back, not believing my eyes and then I took a vial of holy water from my bag and tossed it at her. She didn't even flinch.

"I'm not a demon," she said and I frowned, looking at her puzzled.

"I know, we burned your body," I said, reaching for the salt.

"Well, stranger things have happened," she answered and I shrugged.

"Somehow I don't think this is one of those times," I said with a smirk. I ran for the door into the living room, lining the doorway with salt and she stood on the other side looking furiously at me. I didn't hesitate, running for the weapons locker, getting it open and pulling out a shotgun that I knew was already loaded with rock salt ammo.

I grabbed a belt filled with rock salt ammo and slung it across my chest, turning to face out into the room.

"Why are you here?" I asked when Grace appeared in front of me and scowled.

"You left me to die Jefferson, you and Patrick and John, you could have saved me, exorcised that demon, but you left me..."


17 years ago
Reno, Nevada

When we got to the motel we all piled into the motel room that John had rented. Beth was hysterically crying at this point, begging Patrick to take her back to her mother.

"She's not dead! No, Mommy, I want my Mommy," she sobbed as Patrick held her, looking at John with a pained expression.

Dean was with Sam on one of the beds and he was watching everything with contemplative hazel eyes, not missing a thing.

"What do you want to do?" John asked, looking at Patrick with crossed arms.

"We need to go back, we need to get Grace," Patrick said.

"She'll be long gone now, that demon isn't going to stick around now the kids have been taken," John argued.

"You don't know that!"

"Then why did they take the kids?" John asked, and he turned to look at me.

I opened my mouth, shaking my head as Patrick turned to me, shushing Beth and holding her as she continued to cry.

"I uh... something about the girl... she has abilities that they can use, like they are with Grace, to listen to … their enemies?" I said, still feeling slightly confused on the whole good guys, bad guys thing.

Patrick looked at Beth and visibly paled. "I never thought..." he said softly and Beth looked up at him with big brown eyes full of tears.

"I want my Mommy," she whimpered again and Patrick sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

He pulled out a rosary from around his neck and looked at it, then down at Beth. "It's going to be all right baby girl," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Castiel..." he said. "Castiel we need to talk, please."

Patrick bowed his head in prayer and then suddenly a breeze lifted through the room and then Beth straightened in Patrick's lap before pulling out of his arms and standing beside him.

"What is it?" She said in a voice that seemed much older than a ten year old girl's.

John looked startled at the change in the girl, and Dean's head shot up.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked, frowning.

"It's okay Dean," Patrick said. "She's not in any danger." He turned to his daughter and looked at her.

"Can you tell me where Grace is?" He asked.

"No, they are shielding her," the girl answered with an expressionless face.

"What did they want with Beth? What are they doing with Grace?"

"They are vessels, they can be used to eavesdrop on us," Beth, or Castiel, whatever this being was, replied.

"Can you protect my daughter?" Patrick asked.

"We will try," said Castiel.

"Try? You're supposed to be some guardian of her family," he said with a frustrated tone.

"We do not have infinite resources, I am a warrior and have my duties," Castiel replied, and it seemed odd hearing such words coming out of a child.

"What about her memories? If we can't get Grace back then she needs to think that she's dead, I don't want her to know the truth."

I frowned, looking at this ten-year old girl who was getting her life mapped out for her. Was it fair to do this to her?

"I can erase her memories," said the being in the girl's body.

"Do it," Patrick said.

"The boys' too," John said, looking at Dean and Sam, getting a stunned look from Dean.

"What?!" Dean said, jumping up. "No way! No one is messing with my head!"

Beth walked up to Dean and looked at him, he stared at her conflicted and anyone could see plain as day that the two of them had connected during their ordeal. I remembered him telling her that he would protect her, and I sighed – this wasn't fair.

"You will see her again," Castiel said and then she touched her fingers to Dean's forehead. She then reached past him and touched Sam's forehead too, both boys fell unconscious on the bed.

"They will remember nothing of the last week," she said to John. "Take them and go."

John nodded and picked up the boys, taking them outside to the Impala. He stuck his head back in the motel room door and looked at Patrick; for the first time I saw worry on his face.

"I'll be in touch," he said. "Call me if you get a lead."

Patrick nodded and sighed, running a hand across his face. "Okay." When John was gone he came to stand in front of the girl again, looking down.

"You were never much good to my wife, all talk and no action, where were you when she was taken?" Patrick asked.

"We can't be everywhere, we are fighting a war," Castiel said.

"I don't give a damn about your war," Patrick muttered.

"You will, when things get darker on this plane. It will spill over soon enough, and then you'll start to understand. Keep Elizabeth safe, she has work to do." Then it was gone, and the girl blinked, looking at me.

"Who are you?" She asked, tilting her head. I looked at her father who breathed a sigh of relief, sitting down on a chair. I knelt in front of her and smiled, holding out my hand.

"I'm Jefferson," I said. "What's your name?"

"Beth," she answered with a smile. "Are you a friend of my Dad's?"

"Yes," I said, looking back at Patrick. "Yes I am."

I stood up and walked over to Patrick, looking down at him.

"Sir," I said, and he looked up at me, frowning as if he'd been summoned from a million miles away.

"Just Patrick will do," he said.

"Right, well... Patrick. I'd like to learn more of what you do, after what I've been through, and what I just heard..." I leaned in to him and whispered. "About a war coming..." I stood back. "I want to help."

Patrick sighed and looked at me, shaking his head. "You don't know what you're talking about kid," he said.

"I know enough to realise that you can use all the help you can get," I answered. "Teach me."

Patrick looked at me contemplatively and then nodded.

"All right, if you like. I'm leaving for Minnesota tomorrow. There's a priest there, and if he takes a liking to you, we'll start your training."

I felt my heart jump at the thought. My whole life I'd lived sheltered from the harsh reality that was out there. Wealthy parents who provided me with everything I could ask for and more, a first-class education, cars, boats and designer clothes. But it had been an empty life, one that had left me open to being possessed by that thing and now I could do something about it, I could help others and stop it from happening to other innocent people. I was excited.


Present Day

Blue Earth, Minnesota

"Grace..." I said, holding a hand out toward her. "We did everything we could to find you, you have to know that," I said.

"It wasn't enough!"

"I'm sorry," I replied, there wasn't much more to be said about it. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here for revenge, Jefferson, and you're the only one left," she answered. I thought about Patrick, dead, from a demon over a decade now. John gone for years, also due to demons. Our lives couldn't get any more complicated than they already were. I had to find a way to send her on to the afterlife, but how to do that when we'd already burned her body?

I grimaced and raised the shotgun at her. "Sorry Grace, not today," I said, and I pulled the trigger, causing her to disappear. I ran while I could, straight out the door to the car and jumped in, gunning it to life and peeling off down the road. I had to get to Bobby's and make sure that Beth and the others were all right.

My phone had been plugged in to the car charger, I grabbed it. There were five messages from Beth, one from Dean. Cursing, I hit voicemail and Beth's voice started talking, wanting me to touch base, her messages got progressively more panicked until finally Dean's voice sounded, telling me I had to touch base. I had a funny suspicion I knew what they were calling about. I rocketed the Plymouth along the highway, at this speed I was only a little over an hour out of Sioux Falls, I was thankful it was straight down the interstate and bypassed the towns because I wasn't stopping for anyone.

I dialled Beth, but all I got was static on the line, something was definitely up. The others were the same, so I tossed my phone in my bag and focused on getting to Bobby's.

As I was passing the township of Luverne I was shocked to see Grace appear in the middle of the road, the car in front of me swerved to miss her and with a sickening screech of metal it collided with an oncoming car. There was no avoiding the aftermath. I twisted the wheel, going for the shoulder of the interstate, but one of the cars spun out of control across the land and straight into the side of me, pushing us to the side of the road.

I felt the glass cut me as I was thrown from the car, rolling away from the crash scene. Should have been wearing a seat belt! I groaned, getting to my feet and limping back to the car, grabbing the shotgun which had fallen in front of the passenger seat.

Cars had stopped everywhere, and several people were running at me. They paused when they saw the gun. I staggered away and shook my head, feeling groggy and shaken. I was in the middle of nowhere with a psycho spirit on my ass, and my car was smashed. Great!

I looked around for Grace; she'd have to be here somewhere. This was getting stranger and stranger. Not only was she not tied to a location, the homicidal touch didn't seem her style from the way Patrick used to talk about her. But then, she had been ridden by a demon for twenty years, if her death had been recent, who knew what that would do to you?

Hands grabbed me and suddenly I went flying into the car, hitting with a force that was not normal. Grace was upon me, grabbing at my jacket and I kicked out at her, punching her in the face. She reeled back and then grabbed me again, slamming me against the car and kicking me where I'd injured my leg.

I groaned and looked down, her hands were bunched at my chest, and there was a mark on her hand. A mark I recognised almost instantly. I looked up at her, surprised, and swallowed as her piercing blue eyes stared into me.

"You're a witness?"

She nodded and spun me again, I felt myself almost losing consciousness, but I knew I had to fight. I punched her again, throwing in a front high kick, propelling her backwards and off me. Grabbing the fallen shotgun from the ground I shot her again and she disappeared to the startled gasps and screams of the people standing around.

I didn't have time for this. Would the car drive? I looked at it. Massive dent in the side, but that seemed about it. I climbed in through the passenger side to the driver seat. The door bulged in and it was a little tricky getting to the gas pedal, but I managed, turning the engine over. It roared to life, and I kicked it into gear, driving off as police cars raced toward the scene from the other direction.

The Plymouth rocketed on a good day, on a bad day she still moved like the Devil was on her ass. I urged her forward, I wasn't far now and I had to get to Bobby's. I kept the shotgun in one hand, constantly vigilant for Grace to reappear, but for the moment it looked like she had dissipated.

I screeched around the corner to Bobby's and up his driveway spotting the Impala instantly, and sighing with relief. I could at least get some help here, and we could all hopefully get to the bottom of this.


9 Years Ago
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

It had been seven years since I'd seen Beth, longer for Dean. Now I was going on a case with them. I hadn't wanted to call John, but this case had a pattern to it that John had taught me to pick up, and so he was the first person I thought of when I realised I was going to need help. He was out of action with a broken ankle, but he'd sent Dean and Beth to help: Beth was to be the decoy.

I could barely believe my eyes when I saw her walking up to Dean and me in the apartment building. She was a grown woman now, and her dark tresses were dyed blonde, which seemed strange on her. She looked at me and there was no recognition there, and I knew there wouldn't be. Patrick had decided after four years of searching for Grace, that it was time to try and put the past behind him, settling in Wisconsin with Beth when she turned fourteen. He'd called Castiel again, and her memories of me and anything related to the hunt for Grace had been wiped just in case. It was a sad day for me because I'd grown quite fond of the girl; she was like a little sister to me.

"Oh there you are honey!" Beth said, looking at Dean who responded with a look of shock when she slipped her arm around his waist. "This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddy Jeff," she said to the landlord who was with her and I grimaced at the Jeff, I was most certainly not a Jeff.

"Good to meetcha," said the landlord, whose name was Ed according to his shirt. There was a brief discussion where Beth and Dean played off each other, and then we had successfully acquired the apartment we needed, the one that had belonged to the previous tenant, still furnished and all.

"Boyfriend?" Dean asked in an amused tone when we got inside, and Beth looked at him a little squeamishly.

"I panicked okay?! I wasn't expecting him to bring me upstairs..." she said. "You know adlibbing isn't my strong suit."

"Yeah... yeah we're gonna have to work on that," Dean said, swallowing and looking at her with a frown that said there was more to that little boyfriend cover than he wanted to admit.

"She did fine Dean, give her a break," I interceded, dumping a bag of weapons and supplies on the kitchen table.

I watched Beth as she went about the apartment unpacking and interacting with Dean. Eight years later and the pair still had a bond that they weren't even aware had started long before they remembered meeting. I smiled at the little teasing they gave each other, and the touches that passed between them when they had an excuse to get near each other. John had been hard on them, and he'd warned me to keep an eye on them, that they needed to stay focused on the job, not each other.

Seemed to me that there wasn't much wrong with doing both, but I wasn't their father, and I hadn't been allowed to be a part of their lives until now. I resolved then and there that I would fix that, I was twenty-six years old now and I could do what I wanted, I was no longer the student, following the orders of Patrick, or Jim, or John for that matter. John was going to find I was a force to be reckoned with if he wanted to push the subject of being around to watch over Beth again.

Beth was eighteen years old now, and Dean almost twenty-one, what was the harm in letting them explore something a little more than a brother-sister relationship? They weren't blood related, and John was delusional if he thought he was going to stop anything from happening.

After a few rounds of poker to get them to relax a little, I shook my head. What was it going to take to get them to drop their guard a little? John was a militant, sure, but even he had to relax sometime.

"Don't you guys ever get a break?" I asked them, looking up from my beer.

"What do you mean?" Beth asked, shuffling the cards again.

"Well you know, recreational activities, time out from the job," I said. "What do you like to do in your spare time?"

They exchanged a look and it was fairly clear what the answer was. Beth shrugged and looked at me. "We practice our shooting skills, or bow, or … hand to hand combat..." She said, looking at Dean who shrugged.

"Yeah time off isn't really in Dad's vocabulary," he said, taking another drink.

"He always was a little extreme," I commented, shaking my head.

"How do you know Dad, anyway?" Dean asked, frowning a little. "I mean we've heard of you, but I don't remember meeting you, ever."

"Ahhh, we go a long way back," I said, not sure what to share exactly. "I knew both your fathers when I was eighteen, they saved me from a demon."

"Wow, I didn't know that," Beth said, leaning forward and looking at me curiously.

"Not many people do," I said with a smile, finishing off my beer. "But that is a story for another night. I'm going to get some sleep." I stood up and watched as Dean and Beth shifted a little uncomfortably while I moved for the couch.

"You guys are right to share the bedroom, yes?" I asked, glancing back at them. Beth swallowed and looked quickly at Dean. "I mean, I know it's not exactly ideal..." But I wasn't about to let them out of this if it killed me, they needed a little incentive here.

"No, no that's okay," Beth said quickly, shaking her head and getting up from the table. "I mean, I pretty much always share with Sammy anyway. Not a lot of room for four of us in those motel rooms."

"That's what I figured," I said, though I was amused that she tended to share with Sam. If I'd been in Dean's place, I'd have been pushing to be the one to share the bed. But then, maybe that was the point, John probably called the shots on who slept where.

Dean cleared his throat and grabbed his bag, heading silently for the bedroom as I pulled off my shirt and started to get comfortable on the couch. Beth followed Dean and then closed the doors between the living room and bedroom. I could hear them moving about and then everything went quiet. I grinned to myself. I was going to break John's hold over these two if it killed me.


Present Day
Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Everyone was gathered in the library when I arrived, I struggled up the steps, adjusting my jacket and trying not to look as bad as I felt. I hobbled through the foyer until I reached the archway into the library leaning against the entry; I watched Beth and Dean on the couch as they loaded guns with ammo, she fussing over a cut on Dean's face. Sam and Bobby were discussing a brand that Sam had seen on someone's hand, and I knew instantly we were all on the same page.

"That's it," Sam said, handing a drawing of the brand to Bobby.

"I may have seen this before..." Bobby said.

"It's the make of the witnesses," I said, clearing my throat and announcing my presence. Beth looked surprised and then jumped up, coming over to me.

"Jefferson! Are you all right?" She asked, giving me the once over. I nodded, an immense feeling of relief washing over me now that I could see they were all safe.

"I'll live," I said with a grin, holding up my phone. "Consider this your check-in."

Beth rolled her eyes at me. "You oaf, you could have just called," she said with a chuckle, punching me in the arm. I smiled and nodded back at her.

"Next time," I said, looking over at Bobby – the look he gave me was plain, he knew the danger we were in. "We need to move," I said, and he nodded at me, grabbing a few books off the table he'd been standing at and moving toward the kitchen.

"Follow me," he instructed.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"Somewhere safe, ya idjit," Bobby snapped, leading the way. I soon found myself standing in an iron room down in the basement.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost-proof," Bobby said and I smirked.

"You built a panic room?" I asked, looking around in awe. I made a mental note: Need to get myself one of these!

Bobby shrugged and raised his eyebrow at us. "I had a weekend off," he said nonchalantly.

Some time later we were preparing to face the onslaught of the ghosts, I found my way over to the little cot Bobby had tucked away in the corner, leaning back against the wall and propping up my leg. It was cut up, but nothing felt like it was broken. Bobby was giving the kids a lesson in the Rising of the Witnesses.

"It figures into an ancient prophecy," I said, joining in my own knowledge to the conversation.

"Wait..." Beth said, looking at me. "Wait... What book is that from?" She asked.

I looked at her, surprised she wasn't recalling it. "You know it," I said, and she bit her lip and frowned, trying to recall the reference. Dean stood up and walked over by Bobby, taking a look at the book he was reading from.

"The widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know," Bobby said. "But long story short..."

"Revelations," Beth answered, looking up at me, I smiled – there was my smart girl. Bobby nodded, confirming her statement while the boys looked stunned.

"This is a sign," he said.

"A sign of what?" The boys asked together.

Everyone hesitated and then Beth looked up, swallowing. "The apocalypse," she said softly. I would have paid good money to have had Dean and Sam's facial expressions caught on camera at that very moment, you could have knocked them over with a feather.


9 years ago

Cicero, Indiana

Given his night out on the town, Dean wasn't any more relaxed when he came back into the motel room the next day. John and Beth had gone to the shops with Sam to do some shopping and I had decided to wait around and talk to the guy before heading back to Miami.

"Jefferson, what are you doing here?" He asked as he barged into the motel room, tossing his jacked on to one of the beds. He crossed to the bathroom and started to wash his face and hands in the sink while I got up and leaned against the bathroom door, watching him.

"Thought I might come check up on the pair of you, make sure everything was all right," I commented.

"Yeah? Well we're good, far as I know," Dean answered, towelling his face dry and then pushing past me, going to the fridge and pulling out a beer.

"Yeah? Seemed like you and Beth were both a little on edge when you left Philly. It was a tough case this one, especially for you," I said, going to the fridge and helping myself to a beer.

"Me?"

"Of course, you were in charge of Beth, and then she went missing, I know what it's like to lose someone you care about during a hunt," I said, thinking back to a similar situation I'd found myself in once before. "You never stop blaming yourself."

Dean scoffed and took a long drink from his beer. "Yeah well, everything worked out okay, if she'd just stayed where I could see her, she wouldn't have been in any danger in the first place," Dean said.

"She did what she thought was necessary for the job. And it did work, in a round about way," I countered, pushing him a little.

"She disobeyed orders!" Dean snapped. "You do that, you die, it's not rocket science."

"Your dad teach you that?" I asked, leaning against the bench.

"The rules are the rules," Dean said, stepping back and pulling inside of himself a little.

"Some rules are made to be broken," I urged, thinking about how I'd found Beth following Dean last night as he'd walked a girl home and then gone upstairs with her.

"Not Dad's rules," he answered stubbornly, but I saw it there, the flash of anger, frustration. I frowned and decided to take a different tact.

"So, how was your evening?" I asked, taking a long swallow of my beer.

Dean smirked and shook his head. "Jefferson, this girl I hooked up with, she was like... well pretty amazing. Yoga teacher. The positions she could get into... oh man, it was like sleeping with gumby girl," he said with a grin, shaking his head again.

"Sounds like fun," I said with a smile. "She was pretty from what I saw."

"Huh? When did you...?"

"I was with Beth and we kind of saw you two walking off together," I said, leaving out the part where Beth had been stalking him.

"What?" Dean said, looking surprised. "Did she uh, did she say anything?"

"Who Beth?"

"Yeah," he answered, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing but I could see his chest starting to rise a little faster.

"What would you like for her to say?" I asked, looking at him.

Dean shrugged, sitting down on the bed. "Honestly?"

"Well honesty is the best policy," I encouraged and he sighed, looking down at his bottle.

"Well...for a start she could have stopped me from …" his voice trailed off and he shook his head. "Things didn't go so well with Gumby Girl this morning," he confessed, looking down at his hands. "Last night... great stuff... learned a lot, got a lot out of my system... but.. this morning I kind of made the mistake of calling her by another girl's name."

I screwed up my face, looking at him, pained. "Ouch."

"Yeah... tell me about it," Dean said, shaking his head.

"Any girl's name in particular?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I think you know," he answered, looking at me seriously.

I sighed and came to sit on the bed opposite him, looking him in the eyes.

"Dean, all I can tell you is that you need to do something about it, because your father has entrenched so many rules into that girl she's afraid to take a dump without his permission." I said, deciding to follow my own advice on honesty.

"You think?!" Dean said, sitting back and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I've tried Jefferson! Every time it looks like we're gonna get past the rules she takes about ten steps back, and I'm left hanging and having to agree to be friends and her brother. It's driving me insane!" Dean said, running a hand through his hair.

"You need to keep working at it. She's scared Dean. She doesn't know any other life than the one with you guys now, that's a big risk you'd be asking her to take," I said, feeling a little hope come into my heart for the pair of them, at least I'd been right and they were on the same page about each other.

"It's not a risk from where I'm standing," Dean said.

"But it is for her," I said quietly. Dean thought this through and nodded. "Just don't give up, it might take a year, maybe longer, but if this is what you want, it's time to start doing something about it man."

"Dude, who the hell are you?!" Dean laughed, shaking his head at me. "We only met you like two days ago!"

I laughed and nodded, taking a drink from my beer. "Well, it feels like a lot longer, I like you guys, and I've never seen eye to eye with your father. If there's something you want, my motto is go get it – life's too short," I said.


Present Day

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The battle against the witnesses had been hard, they were everywhere, and we were running out of ammo. When a gust of wind broke the salt line, we found ourselves set upon and in a moment of luck, Grace had slashed out at me, opening my chest and almost gutting me.

Now, a day later, I lay in a hospital bed staring out the window watching the world pass by. Bobby had brought up some special draught stoppers which were basically long strips of fabric with salt sewn into them. I was still a little paranoid about the ghosts situation even though we'd succeeded in sending them back to their graves. I felt better knowing there was a line of salt lying across the threshold to the door in the draught stopper, and one on the window too.

Suddenly a man appeared beside me in a trenchcoat and I looked at him, it had been about fifteen years since I'd seen the man before, but I recognised him.

"Jimmy?" I asked, reaching for my gun. Surely he wasn't dead too?

The man looked at me and shook his head. "He is just the vessel," came the answer. It didn't make me feel any better, but I relaxed slightly. I warily cast my eyes over the man, putting the gun down. It wasn't going to do any good against an angel.

"Castiel." I said, eyes narrowing.

He inclined his head to me and I looked into those sapphire blue eyes, the same as his half-sister Grace had sported.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'm here to help you," Castiel said, looking down at me on the bed.

"Me? Since when?"

"Since now. Dean and Beth are quite distraught over your injuries," Castiel said.

I shrugged, groaning a little at the burning ache across my entire front. "I'll live."

"Yes," Castiel said, reaching forward with two fingers and touching my forehead. "You will."

I looked down when he pulled back from me, and I felt my chest. There was no pain, not even soreness; it was as if the entire last couple of days hadn't occurred. My sprained ankle was gone, the hours of surgery: gone.

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." Castiel said, nodding to me.

"Is there something else?" I asked.

"I have spoken with Beth. I have fixed her connection so she won't feel demons anymore," he answered, looking at me. I nodded.

"Well that's good, isn't it?" I asked. Twenty years ago this conversation would have seemed weird to me, now it was just par for the course.

"She remembers everything," Castiel said, looking pointedly at me. "And if she doesn't remember it now, she will, with time."

I licked my lips, the meaning behind that statement clear. We would all have to look out for her these next few weeks because she was going to have some processing to do when she realised just how much her father... and John... and myself had lied to her all these years.

"I'll keep an eye on her," I said with a nod.

"Good," Castiel said. "She still has work to do."

"You angels and your wars. Why you can't keep it between yourselves and leave the rest of us out of it I will never know," I muttered and Castiel just looked at me impassively, I looked away and when I looked back he was gone.

I rolled my eyes. Typical.

There was a timid knock at the door and I looked up to see Beth standing there, big brown eyes full of worry.

"Hey, Beth, come in." I said with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," she said quietly, coming to sit on the bed. "How about you?"

"Me? I just got an angel healing courtesy of Heaven, I'm fine," I said with a grin.

"Castiel?" She asked, and I nodded.

Beth took a deep breath and looked at me again, frowning.

"Don't you think it's time you told me what happened to my Mom?" She asked. "The real story? Not the one my Dad told me?"

I sighed and nodded, taking her hand in mine. "I'll tell you everything I know," I said and she smiled, squeezing my hand.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Come on Princess. I could use a good cup of tea and something other than hospital food, let's get out of here," I said, thinking about how I couldn't wait to see the doctor's face when I got up and walked out on my own two feet.

Grabbing my things I shoved them in a bag and moved toward the door, Beth following with a smile.

"Miracle boy on the move!" I quipped, stepping into the hallway. Maybe I could convince that redheaded nurse to come pay me house call to check on my wounds, I plastered a smile and put my best game face on, making a beeline for her.

I waved Beth back with a cautioning glance, then sidled up to the nurse's station, leaning next to the girl with a beaming smile, she couldn't help but smile back, we'd been flirting for the last half a day. I stared into her eyes and then grinned. "For a moment I thought I had died and gone to Heaven. Now I see that I am very much alive, and Heaven has been brought to me," she raised an eyebrow and blushed, looking down at her paperwork. I heard Beth snicker behind me.

"My uh, sister, there... doesn't think you'd accept a dinner invitation from me, I told her she was delusional. Do me a favour and help prove her wrong?" I asked and she nodded with a smile while the woman behind the counter fanned herself with a file.

"Girl, if you weren't gonna say yes, I was!" The bubby woman said with a big smile in my direction.

"I'm Jefferson," I said, holding out my hand to the nurse. I looked back at Beth and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Oh this was gonna be fun.


AUTHOR'S NOTES


Song for this chapter is: Ghosts by Sons & Lovers


Hope you've enjoyed the first instalment in Chronicles of Jefferson. There's bound to be more as the plot bunnies hit!


For more moments with Jefferson be sure to check out my Author's Notes in Chapter one for a listing of all the chapters he also pops up in for my regular Supernatural series. The full story of what happened in Philadelphia with Dean & Beth is featured in All Hell Breaks Loose "No Exit"


Anything you'd like to know about Jefferson? Now is the time to ask and I'll endeavour to get it into a chapter at some point :)