CHAPTER 2

Sunlight spilled out from under the heavy green curtains. A sore Sam Winchester rolled over hoping to ignore the morning, but the throbbing pain in his face demanded he pay it mind. He managed a good hour of morning purgatory in a bed that would never be as comfortable as it was when he first slipped under the sheets, until the knock at the door.

He looked over to the other twin bed, Dean was sprawled out, blankets and sheets twisted around him like vines locking him in a deep sleep. An RPG could have gone off in the room and it still wouldn't have woken him up. Sam slipped on the jeans from last night and opened the door.

John hadn't slept that night, but it looked like he hadn't slept in ten nights. His dark eyes looked up at Sam from the darker pits that formed around them. It was a lost look of a tired and defeated man, a look that made Sam cringe. It only lasted a moment, if that, before his face hardened again.

"We need to talk." He grumbled gesturing for Sam to step outside.

Sam wiped some of the dried blood from his lip fighting the urge to slam the door in John's face. "Let me grab my shirt," he muttered, closing the door over behind him.

November 1991

It was too early for lunch, but too late to call any meal breakfast. John Winchester and his three children took a booth in the back of the empty diner. Eight year old Sam poked at some runny eggs, wishing he had gotten the pancakes. Next to him Dean had already wolfed down the cheeseburger and was making good work on the fries. Jill stared wide eyed at the silver dollar pancakes in front of her, John was too busy mulling over the paper to notice she hadn't eaten a bite until that moment.

"Jill, c'mon eat your pancakes. We gotta long drive to Bobby's and we aint stopping."

"I can't. They're too round." She said, picking one cold pancake off her plate and dropping it on another part of the plate.

"For christs sakes- -" John's voice became stern. "We don't have time for this crap, now eat your damn pancakes."

"but, they're too round." She whined barely above a whisper.

Dean, sensing his father's temper running short, grabbed Jill's plate and cut the little circles into little triangles. "There, now they're not too round."

Jill smiled wide and stacked three triangles onto her fork gleefully shoving them into her mouth. John laughed and gave Dean an approving smile, while patting Jill on the head. He needed to learn to be patient. It had only been a week and she had gone through so much. Looking back, he was amazed how quickly she was adjusting. Dean was so good with her and Sam seemed to like not being the 'little one'. He and Mary always wanted a girl, had things been different, they would have definitely tried for one.

His eyes were drawn to the small tattoos on Jill's wrists. He still had no idea what the marks meant or what they were doing to her Had ever suspected something like this would have happened, he would have never left the hospital without her. It just cemented the idea in his mind that the safest place for his children was with him, where he could protect them. It was a mistake he swore he wouldn't make twice. He just hoped Bobby Singer would have the answers he was looking for.

"What a lovely family you have." A man approached John and the children. He was wearing a "KOREAN WAR" hat with an EGA pin. Burn scars covered the bottom third of his face.

"Thank you," said John with some trepidation.

"Listen, I know you're with your kids, but I was hoping you could help a fellow devil dog out. My car needs a jump and the guys aren't in the shop on Sundays." The man asked. "I'll pay for your meal for the trouble."

John looked down at his USMC shirt briefly, and sighed. It shouldn't take too long and he was low on cash, two kids was expensive enough, but now he had to feed and clothe three. Jill, tugged vehemently on his shirt. "No, dad, don't!" She whispered in terror. "Look at him, he's a monster." She whispered into her father's ear.

"Jill enough, that isn't nice. The man is a war hero. Dean, keep an eye on your brother and sister. I'll be back in a few minutes."

In the booth Jill sat swinging her legs anxiously, and fidgeted with her fingers. She looked out the window every few seconds, her expression looking more pained each time.

"Dean! Dad's in trouble. A monster's got him!" She finally exclaimed.

Sam dropped his fork and looked to Dean. "Really?"

"No, Dad's fine. That man wasn't a monster, Jill. He just had burn scars, he was in a fire, like you."

"No it wasn't his mouth Dean, his eyes. Didn't you see? " She jumped up from her seat and bolted out the door.

The old vet's car was a few hundred feet from the diner, but the view was blocked by some bushes and the old mechanic shop. The 57' Chevelle was a little beat up, but nothing a little care and polish couldn't fix. The two men stood in front of their two classics admiring them admits the hum of their engines.

They started talking about the Corps, then the war, then to cars. Fifteen minutes passed quickly.

"That should be enough to get you going." John said removing the jumper cables. "I really gotta get back to my kids."

"What's the hurry, John?"

The blow from the tire iron took all the air out of his lungs, bringing John Winchester to his knees. He barely dodged the second attack and took out his assailant's legs. The two wrestled in the gravely dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust. Despite having the body of a frail old man, the thing was strong, stronger than John. It got on top of him and had its hands wrapped around his throat. John kicked and clawed at the demon, trying to pry it off of him. Out of the blue it jerked back and then lurched forward. Bright red blood spurted from its mouth. A black cloud of smoke followed leaving a dying old man writhing in the dirt, a startled John Winchester and a shaken little girl, holding a bloody Ka-Bar.

"I told you he was a monster, daddy." Jill's lip quivered and John kissed her forehead as she fell to pieces in his arms. "It was his eyes, daddy. Didn't you see his eyes?" She sobbed.

They cleaned up the mess as a family. John took the cash from the man's wallet to pay for their not quite breakfast, not quite lunch.

October 2006

After awhile all diners start to look exactly the same, but Sam could have sworn he was in this one before. He tapped the menu against the table, he already knew what he wanted, but it was better than looking John in the eye.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Sam."

Sam peered over the menu to make sure the man sitting across from him was still his father, it was. The whole car ride to the diner he was preparing his defense, a logical argument backed up with facts and details. He practiced how this was going to go down in his head, none of the scenarios included John just up and apologizing. He set it down to allow his old man say his peace, still not one hundred percent sure it wasn't a trap.

"Dad, no I should have –"

John's hands grazed over his breast pocket as if the words he wanted to say could be found in there. "I was pissed, real pissed and it took me awhile to realize who I was really pissed at," he sighed. "I caused this, I thought I was keeping her safe. I should have told you the truth when she ran away, maybe if you had known… " he trailed lost in a world of what ifs

.

"If I had known what?" Sam asked.

"What do you know about Jill, about where she came from?"

"Well, um I know her mother was a witch. I knew she's got some sort of psychic ability thing. She could see demons and monsters for what they really were."

"She's not human, Sam, not fully. Her mother was host to a demon the whole time Jill was inside her. She has some of my blood, but much of it had been drained out, replaced." John paused for Sam to catch up. "It was a ritual to make a tool, a weapon, called a conduit. I didn't know until after I brought her in. Once I found out I should have just destroyed her, but she was just a kid, she had a human soul and no idea what she was capable of. I couldn't do it."

"You couldn't kill your daughter, that doesn't make you a monster, dad. Jill wasn't evil." Sam had not yet comprehended exactly what his father was saying.

"She wasn't, but she was designed to be a tool for evil. I thought if I trained her, brought her up a hunter, she could defend herself. Bobby found a way to keep her power latent, hidden away. It worked for awhile, but eventually it worked less and less. The night she ran away, she had gotten upset at something and blew out all the windows in the house we were squatting in, took out nearly half the block's electricity too. She didn't mean to it was just a reaction, but it scared me. I lost my cool, tried to put the fear I had of her into her so she would stay hidden. I told her she was a freak, a monster and if she didn't stay in line, I'd kill her like all of the other monsters. It was the last thing I ever said to my little girl." His eyes filled with tears, but only one fell before he composed himself.

Sam had questions, lots of them. None of this should have made sense, but somehow it did. His sister an inhuman product of evil. It was a revelation that should have floored him, sending his world into a tailspin, but instead it was like getting hit in the face with a cosmic pie. He laughed at the futility of it all. Both of them tried so desperately to be normal and he thought she had won. No Winchester was ever going to be that lucky.

"Well, we know where she is now. We can go get her. Get the Winchester freak show back on the road." Sam said rather chipper, hoping to lighten his father's mood.

"Not quite." He slid the worn glossy brochure across the table. Devonshire University, Archeology Program. Eighteen months ago, Jill thrust it in his face after getting it from someone at the Community College. The program offered study abroad and was geared to those with an 'alternative education'. She applied that night and received her acceptance with a full scholarship a month later.

"It doesn't exist, Sam. Website is down, address is just empty farmland somewhere in Upstate New York." John tapped an accusing finger on top of the brochure. "Did you look into this place at all before you sent her off?"

"Of course I did. I'm not an idiot. We took a virtual tour, I spoke to the admissions counselor. Dad, it seemed legit."

"If you had did just an ounce of research you would have known it was a load of crap."

"I thought it was okay!" Sam cried. "I was happy for her. I didn't want to smash her hopes. It had everything she wanted."

"That should have been your first clue!" John yelled loud enough to disrupt the few of the people that had trickled into the diner for breakfast. He waited for the chatter to pick back up again. "Look, what's done is done. If you're sister is still alive, she is in trouble and we need to help her. I just have one question. Why archeology?"

"She liked history, but wanted adventure she wanted to be like Indiana Jones," replied Sam.

John shook his head. "That's my girl. Hurry up and finish your breakfast we got work to do."