Thank you for your reviews to the last chapter! Special thanks at Silverspoon for your advice! I'll try to include more description from now on. But I won't describe motels - most motels look the same anyway ;) Hope you'll like this chapter!


The road so far…

"Killing spree. Nationwide. Victims presumably hunters. Whatever it is, it first kills the family and then hunter himself. It broke pattern. This time it killed the hunter. The family got away."

"Our son Richie appeared out of nowhere with a kitchen knife! He plunged it into Derek's chest."

"Something got out of Richie, I think," she continued.

"Black smoke something?" Dean asked.

"I hurried into the kitchen to call an ambulance. That was when that woman showed up. Her eyes... they were all black. She took my son."

"I don't get it, man. Why leave her alive and go for the kid? Something stinks."

"Could you give us a description of the mysterious woman?"

"I can give you even more," she replied. "I can draw you a picture of her."

"Here you go," she said and handed Sam the sheet of paper.

The younger Winchester looked at it and froze.

"Holy crap…"

"What?" Dean demanded.

He looked at the portrait of the mysterious woman. Then he gasped.

"What the…?"

He was staring at a perfect portrait of Joanna Beth Harvelle.


Chapter 02

Penrose, PA

Ten minutes later the Winchesters left the Jones residence. Dean walked straight over to the Impala without a word of goodbye to Mrs. Jones. There he stood, tapping his fingers impatiently on the roof of the car. Though he tried to appear casual Sam could clearly make out the tension in his posture.

"If anything strange happens don't hesitate to call this number, alright?" he told Mrs. Jones and handed her his card. "I don't expect anything happen but you never know."

She nodded and begged him "Please bring me back my son!"

She was crying again. Silently this time. She should really get some help, Sam thought. Especially if their suspicion was right and Demon Jo had really come for the boy in the first place. In that case, he was certain, Mrs. Jones would never see her son again.

Demo Jo. He didn't like the sound of that. At all. They would get into that. Try to find out if Jo had indeed returned from the dead or if something like a shifter was taking advantage of her appearance.

"We'll do our best," Sam promised Mrs. Jones before he walked over to Dean, taking out his phone and speed dialing Bobby. "Hey, Bobby, it's Sam. You were right. The targets are hunters or retired ones."

He came to a halt at the passenger side of the car just when the older Winchester hissed "Don't tell him about Jo."

The younger Winchester raised his brows in confusion, silently asking Why?

Dean shot him an authoritarian glare that could be translated into Just do as I say before he opened the door at the driver's side and got into the car.

Sam shook his head, seeing no reason to keep this essential information from Bobby but complied anyway.

"What? Yeah, I'm still here. Sorry, got distracted. No, we don't know anything about the demon involved yet," he told Bobby over the phone and got into the car. He looked at Dean. You happy now?

Dean didn't answer, neither verbally nor non-verbally. He focused on starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Another one?" he heard his little brother ask. "You got the address? Yeah, wait. Just let me grab pen and paper."

Sam pressed the phone with his shoulder to his ear while he opened the gloves compartment and grabbed something to write. "Okay, shoot." He wrote the address down. "Got it. Joliet, huh? So it's moving west. Alright, I'll call you when we have something. Bye."

He hang up and put the address of the latest demonic attack into the pocket of his jacket.

"Joliet," he casually repeated for Dean.

"I heard," Dean replied curtly.

Sam sighed and eyed his brother anxiously. Dean's gaze was fixed on the road. His posture was tensed and he remained silent. This attitude wasn't foreign to Sam. His brother was in denial.

"Um," he tried carefully after a while. "Are we gonna talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Dean replied with finality.

Sam nodded. "I understand."


Joliet, IL

The rest of the ride passed in for Sam uncomfortable silence and even when they arrived in Joliet Dean didn't seem interested in getting engaged in a longer conversation.

"Aren't we going to rent a room for the night?" Sam asked when they passed a motel.

"It's five in the afternoon."

"Exactly The sun will set soon," Sam pointed out.

"I feel comfortable driving all night. The attack already happened. The demon is most likely no longer in town."

"We have to wait for the next attack anyway. We don't know where the demon will go next," Sam replied matter-of-factly. "And for the record, I could really use a bed tonight."

"Fine!" Dean snapped and jerked the Impala into a sharp U-turn.

They drove back to the motel to rent a room. Then they dropped off some baggage before they drove to the place where the recent attack had happened.

"You not coming?" Sam asked when they arrived there and Dean made not attempt to get out of the car.

"No, I need a drink. Call me when you're down. I'll come and pick you up."

And with that he pulled the passenger door shut and sped off.

"Whatever," Sam muttered and turned toward the house.


It didn't take Dean long to find bar. He wasn't picky right now. He stopped at the first he found and hit it. Though it didn't look very appealing. The floor was dirty, the furniture dusty and there were spider webs hanging from the ceiling. Everything in the bar was made of wood and sure looked like it was about to creak. As did the ceiling above Dean's head. However right now he couldn't care less. He hadn't come here to take look. He had come here to have a drink. He sat down on a stool and told the female bartender to deal him some scotch. Then he knocked it back like it was water. Another thing he couldn't care less about right now was getting laid. Though he did have to admit that she looked hot. Tall, slender, olive skin and long blonde hair. She was his type.

But not now.

Now all he needed was a couple of drinks. So he told her to refill and downed the liquor.

They shouldn't have come here, he decided. They should have gone for the Wendigo in Colorado instead. So much more fun… and they had experience in that and no emotional turmoil was connected to that monster…

But who would have thought they would find this. He still didn't know what this was exactly but what he knew was enough to make his stomach flip.

He reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out the portrait Mrs. Jones had drawn and stared forever at it.

Cleansing glasses the hot bartender's eyes lingered on the picture.

"She your girlfriend?" she asked casually.

"No," he answered flatly. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"That bad, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

He tore his eyes away from the picture to gave the woman a look.

"Well, excuse me for being blunt, sir, but it's like the middle of the week and you're drinking. So whatever it is that troubles you about her must be huge. You guys broke up or something?"

She was pretty noisy, Dean thought but answered anyway.

"She's dead," he told her sadly.

Her full lips formed an O and she blushed. She was clearly embarrassed for being so noisy.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and gave him refill. "This one's on me."

"Thanks," he said and drank.

His gaze found the portrait of Jo again. It was so precise. Any confusion impossible. This was Jo. At least on the outside.

There was no way that Jo Harvelle was alive. Her and her mother's bodies were torn apart by the huge propane explosion and the remains burnt in the fire afterwards. So what were they dealing with here? A shifter who had seen Jo by chance and had been temporarily taken advantage of her appearance? Or…

No, he wouldn't go there. It was out of question.

He got lose in thoughts on what creatures could make themselves look like another person and fit into the pattern. Was the demon really after children or was this an exception? The hunter's family was killed in every case…


"I know I'd find you here," he heard a familiar voice behind him an unspecified time later.

He looked up to see Sam standing next to him.

"How'd you find me?" he asked surprised.

"Lucky guess. The uh…" Sam glanced at the bartender who was listening. However, when she caught his urging stare she lowered her gaze to the glasses in her hands. "The client gave me a ride," he continued. "I thought I'd try the first bar I find. I figured if you weren't here I could still call you. We got a problem," he added deadly serious now.

"What can I get you, sir?" the bartender asked.

"Nothing, thanks."

"Actually, he's her to pick me up," Dean explained. He took out his wallet and put ten dollar on the counter. "Keep the change."

"Thanks, sir," the blonde said gratefully and bade them goodnight.

Outside the bar Sam asked "Dean, how much did you have?"

Dean scoffed at that. "What, you don't trust me with my liquor?"

"Oh, I trust you with liquor alright," Sam replied. "What I don't trust you with is liquor and emotional disturbance."

Dean laughed but it was cold laugh. "I'm not emotionally disturbed. "But if it makes you happy, fine. You drive." He tossed him the keys.

"Thanks. I'd really like to reach my bed in one piece."


They didn't speak another word with each other until they reached the motel and were all tucked into bed.

"Hey, Dean."

"Mmh?" The older Winchester rolled on his back and opened his eyes."

"When are we going to talk about this?"

"Sam…"

"Dean," the younger Winchester replied. "What do you want to do? Ignore it? Act like we never found out about it? The woman I interviewed tonight mentioned her, too!"

"That's exactly what we're gonna do!" Dean snarled, completely ignoring Sam's last sentence. "I want nothing to do with it!"

"But, Dean, if it really is Jo – "

"It's not Jo!" Dean shouted, straightened up and faced his brother. "It's not her, okay? She's dead. Not coming back. Ever."

"We don't know that. There're so many ways," Sam insisted. "Maybe someone's using her body. Maybe the hellhounds got to her after all and now she's back as demon – "

"Stop it!" Dean bellowed. He didn't want to raise his voice but the subject affected him more than he would let on. "Just drop it. Jo and Ellen are up there." He pointed at the ceiling, meaning heaven. "Probably together with Bill Harvelle. One last time, whatever this is, I don't want anything to do with it."

"But, Dean," Sam tried to reason with him. "This demon is killing hunters. It kidnapped a little boy. Who's going to stop it if not us?"

"Someone will. Someone always does. We'll however stay low. We're heading off to Colorado first thing in the morning, going after that Wendigo, got it?"

Sam sighed. He clearly wasn't content with Dean's plan but he agreed anyway.

"Fine. Whatever."

There was no use discussing it now. His brother was too damn stubborn. Sam knew that the subject affected Dean. He didn't want to talk about Jo because her death had hurt him and still did. He just wished Dean could get over this and adopt a more objective view.

"Good."

Dean turned his back on his brother and closed his eyes again. Suddenly he felt cold and empty. The whole thing affected him deeply. Of course there was the big bad what if? But he refused to think about it. If he did it would drive him nuts, and he wouldn't get that five hour sleep which he definitely needed.

In the end he still didn't get it. This night for the first time in a long time he dreamt about Carthage.


So this chapter was basically about Dean's thoughts and fears on the possibility of Jo being the culprit of the murders and the kidnapping. I hope it's also clear that he misses her and feels guilty about her death. That is why he dreamt about Carthage.

In the next chapter you will learn more about why Jo is back and how and what the hell is going on. Plus, two special characters will be guest staring :)