Chapter 4: Angels and Demons

Dean felt like his head was being ripped in two, like someone or something was trying to cram things in his mind. Distorted images rapidly flashed behind his eyes. They were disjointed, as if shown through shutter snaps, bits and pieces with seemingly no connection.

In the distance, he could hear someone calling his name, could feel someone shaking him but he's unable to respond. The pain is too great and all he can do is curl himself into a ball and clutch his head. Soon enough the images dissipate and the pressure in his head ease.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" A female voice asked.

Dean held up his hand in response and struggled to open his eyes.

"Sit him up, Jo. I'll get him a glass of water."

Dean felt himself being lifted to a sitting position with his back pressed against the wall. His vision swam into view and he could see the blurred image of a blonde woman before him. For a moment he thought that it was his mother, remembering the alternate life he'd seen from the djinn.

"Are you okay?" Jo asked.

"I'm awesome," Dean quipped in his usual sarcastic manner. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, massaging the dull ache that remained.

"What happened?" Jo asked, sitting down on the floor beside him.

"I don't know, but I think I may have been a vision," Dean replied. "I saw Sam and…Andy." He frowned, shutting his eyes tightly trying to recall what he'd seen.

"Who's Andy?" Jo looked at him quizzically.

Dean opened his eyes and waved his hands in the air in explanation. "He's this guy we came across on one of our hunts. He's special like Sam."

Jo raises an eyebrow. "Special?"

Dean sighed at the questioning tone of Jo's voice. Not very many people know of Sam's ability and he wanted to keep it that way. However, this was Jo. The girl was practically family. Besides, Dean felt that he owed her an explanation after what Sam had done to her in Duluth.

"Sam has visions. Kinda like images in a crystal ball," he explained. "And he's not the only one like this. We've come across three people who has some sort of special ability like him."

"So Sam's psychic?" Jo whispers.

"Sort of. Not really," Dean shook his head. "Visions just come to him but he doesn't know when they'll happen."

"Okay," Jo shifted and turned her body to face Dean. "So you think that you had one of these visions," she waved her hands in the air. "And you saw Sam and this Andy-guy."

"Pretty much," Dean thumped his head against the wall, thankful that Jo had given up prying about his little brother.

Missouri took that moment to walk back into the living room, handing Dean a glass of water. "Here," she said. "Drink this."

"Thanks," Dean said gratefully, taking a small sip of the cool liquid.

"I heard what you said," said Missouri. "Are you sure you saw your brother?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Did you see anything else?" She asked.

"I saw this guy, Andy. They were in some sort of town. It looked pretty empty. There was a well and a bell," Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's pretty much it."

Missouri nodded her head in thought. "I think you should call Bobby."

Dean paused and looked up at her. "But he told me you can help?"

"Oh, Dean," Missouri said her voice full of sympathy. "You need to call Bobby as soon as you can and find your brother. I don't know how long Sam's got but you need to get to him fast."

Dean felt fear grip his gut. He had known that Sam might be in danger but to hear Missouri say it just confirmed the urgency.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you," the older psychic apologized. "I've tried but there seems to be some sort of mental block as to where they are." Missouri closed her eyes and raised a hand to her temple. "I just can't see it."

Dean swallowed and pushed himself up, hands braced behind him against the the wall, using it to stand. Jo was right there with him, helping him to his feet.

"Do you want me to drive?" Jo offered.

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I can drive." He turned towards Missouri, "if you hear anything, you know my number."

The older woman nodded her head as she watched the two of them shuffle out the door. "Remember what I told you, Jo," she reminded, watching them with keen eyes.

Dean waited as Jo got into the passenger seat, shutting the door beside her. "What did she say to you?" He asked. He couldn't imagine what it could have been seeing as the older woman had never met Jo.

"Nothing," Jo replied, shaking her head. Dean noted her hesitation and let the matter drop.

Suddenly remembering what Missouri advised him to do, Dean fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled Bobby. When the line went unanswered after several rings, he cursed and hung up.

"What's wrong?" Jo asked twisting in her seat to face him.

"Bobby's not picking up," Dean grunted.

"Keep trying," Jo urged.

However, after an hour of dialling, Dean's call still went unanswered.

"Godammit," Dean cursed, slamming the heel of his hand against the wheel. Why wasn't Bobby picking up? Dean's gut clenched in worry.

"Maybe we should swing by his place," Jo suggested noting Dean's frustration. "You know check things out."

Dean didn't reply. Instead, his grip on the wheel tightened and his foot pressed a little harder on the gas. Something big was happening and Dean was more afraid that he'd ever been.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jo rubbing the hilt of her father's knife. With all his worry for Sam, he'd almost forgotten that Jo was suffering too. She was mourning the loss of her friend and also perhaps her mother. Dean realized that he was yet to acknowledge that.

"I'm…I'm sorry about Ash," he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse.

Jo didn't say anything. She merely at there with her arms crossed across her chest and her eyes staring unwaveringly on the road.

"He was a good guy," Dean added.

"Yeah, he was," Jo whispered causing Dean to look over at her. He knew that she was trying hard to be strong judging from the wetness in her eyes and the slight quiver in her lips.

Dean reached out and touched her shoulder, uncharacteristically, hoping to offer her some comfort. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she didn't shrug off his touch.

"We'll find the demon that did this, Jo," he said. "I promise."

Jo angrily swiped at the tear that fell down her cheek. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean."

He knew she was right but he couldn't help himself. He was sure that whatever happened to the Roadhouse had everything to do with his brother's disappearance. It was just too much of a coincidence that the place would burn down just as Ash had something important to tell him that he needed to do it in person.

Dean wished that he'd gotten to the Roadhouse a little faster. Perhaps he could have spoken to Ash a little sooner. There were a lot of good people that died in that fire. It pained him to think of all the lives that were lost. But Dean knew that in the life of a hunter there were no guarantees. That all you had to protect you was your gun and your knowledge that you knew what you were doing. Even hope and prayer eventually died in this business.

Dean had learned not put himself out there, both in life and in love. He'd done it before and had gotten burned – first his mother, then Cassie, then his father. It just hurt too much to hope.

His brother was one of the rare ones. The too few hunters who still believed that there was a heaven out there. He remembered the case they worked on a few months back. Sam had believed that the string of murders had been the cause of a vengeful angel. Dean thought Sam was naïve to believe in such things. He'd even made the comment about unicorns and rainbows that shot out of their asses. However, in truth, Dean wanted to believe; because it would ease his burden and give everything that they did a sense of purpose. But he had to be realistic, despite the contradiction that it posed. Dean found it hard to believe that there was a heaven out there (whatever it may be). He'd seen too many horrible things and been through too much to believe.

"Before he died," he began, breaking the tense silence in the car. "Ash told me that he had something important to tell me. That he had to do it in person because it wasn't something he could just tell me on the phone."

The leather seat squeaked as Jo turned to face him, angling her knee towards him.

"He left a message for me saying the same thing," she said in surprise. She frowned and let out a disappointed breath. "But I guess we're both too late. We'll never find out what it was."

Dean heard the sadness in her voice and he couldn't help but sympathize. Ash was a lot of things, but to Jo he meant family and his loss was a lot to bear. And he felt for her, he really did. No one deserved to lose family the way she did. To be torn asunder by the grief and the loss.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw the way she stared impassively out the windows, her shoulders hunched forward and sagging as if she'd resigned herself to her fate. It was at that moment that Dean realized that despite the confusion he felt towards Jo, she was now part of this battle whether either of them liked it or not.