Author's Note: Excuse for the delay – none. Chapter dedication – PrettieParker, for being absolutely awesome and helping me get through this chapter. I've had a horrible case of writers block and she's a definite ego booster, lol. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading.

Chapter: Seven - "I'm telling you, Dean, it's not a coincidence that she knew, alright. Dad is alive. He has to be." Jo listened quietly, her hands strumming through Haley's hair, waning in disbelief as Dean looked on, shaking his head. Just as dumbfounded as she was, watching Brooke standing next to him, her own feelings for Dean being pushed aside as she watched him thumb his fingers against her.

"Damnit, Sammy, don't start this crap again. Dad's gone, and so is she, alright," he kept his voice low, the undercurrent of a stressing rise tugging on his rasping tongue. "There's nothing we can do to help her now, you know that." Unwavering he looked his brother in the eyes. Looking towards Jo, his glance caught his sister. Her fingers tracing intricate designs on Jo's sweater as she hummed quietly. "She's gone."

"You went to hell and back for me, Dean. You risked everything," Sam stated his words so simply, shrugging a laugh at the expense of the irony. "But for her it's too late; just another lost cause, right?"

"Dean," Brooke warned, clutching Dean's arm, knowing his temper, knowing his rigid stance all too well, as he all but charged his little brother; thrusting him up by his collar as he pulled him towards him.

"Don't you talk about her like that, do you understand me?" his knuckles turn a beat white as his free hand tightens at his side and Sam smiles; grinning through the barren grasp against him as he throws up his hands.

"You won't try for her, and it's not because you're scared, or that you're worried what might happen, what might not," Sam ignored the tightened hold as he muttered through a grimace. "It's because you know, don't you?" his eyes tear as he takes hold of Dean's wrist. "Tell me, Dean, tell me the truth. For once, stop protecting me."

"Tell me what really happened."

Oblivious to the conversation Haley smiles, hand brushing against Jo. "You'll find him broken," a blink and she was in Jo's limelight, Dean out sight as she fell against the younger woman's gentle eyes, the boys conversation fading from her mind as her hand scathed over her Jo's heart. Haley's other hand running against her palm as she whispered softly, "Have to mend the pieces." Joana shut her eyes, breathing a laugh at the girl's whimsical banter as she then braces her shoulders.

Jo skimmed her eyes towards the boys, noticing Dean's qualms had simmered as he released his brother from his grasp. Thumbing the girl's hand, Jo sighed."Right, and on that note, kiddo, I think it's time for your medicine. Come on, sweetie," she shuffled slowly to her feet, eyeing Dean who quietly met her attention as he sighed, hand ruffling his collar as he motioned for Haley.

"There's my girl," he gave a soft smile; sheathing over his worries as he then outstretched his arm. He groans playfully as Haley trudges towards him, smiling tiredly as she buries herself in his arms. He gave a look to Sam, indicating that their conversation was over before melting in his sister's arms. He chuckled as a rasping sigh as she pulled Brooke into their embrace. "God this is so partridge family," he murmurs playfully, and looking to Jo he smiles.

"Thanks again for coming. We won't be long, I promise," and in turn, Jo nods, the eyes of the three standing before her causing her to tense as she fumbles with her father's knife.

"Hales is good company. It's no trouble," though to be a bit more than truthfully honest, she had hoped to go along with them; her craving for the hunt pulsing through her veins. Though someone had to watch after the girl, and with Brooke abiding as Dean's pocket carry-on, Jo was all that was left to do their bidding. She just wanted something more, something apart from humming quiet lullabies, or being sure that Haley slept through the night. Jo wanted more; she wanted everything that her father had sought for. She wanted the fight, she wanted the danger…
"You boys play nice," she mentioned, casting a sisterly glance towards Dean, who only hugged Hales tighter.

She wanted vengeance.

He smothers in silence, the hilt of his enemy's blade plunging from his neck, as he gurgled in repetition of his guilt's, his sorrows, but no one was listening. No one even feigned a glance, not even the rustling of leaves, or the grating whispers of those that surrounded them were there to accompany him as his enemy emerges to a hovering stance; spitting on his writhing corpse, murmuring through the silence.

His boot drudged against his chest, numb against the screaming infant bundled beside them as he turned his head towards the child. Barely a grimace lighting his lips as he then murmured under breath; turning the hilt of the blade, twisting it with an intrepid crunch before he muttered in response. "Trust me kid," he rasped through a cough, smearing blood against his brow as the sweat dripped from his pores. "Your daddy had it coming."

"Owen you have to get out of there," the shrilling voice of Millicent pierced through his earpiece. He shrugged off his sweater, tossing the grimed fabric to the ground, slapping with a drenched thud as it was draped in blood, as he steps towards the threshold.

"As milady wishes," as he casts a final look to the crying infant, Owen Morello sighed. Knowing that there had been no other option, that he done the right the thing.

He had done the right thing, he told himself. There had been no other option, he cried, hearing the child's cries as he stepped into his vehicle. "Where to next?" he questioned, hearing static in response before Millie muttered in response.

"Nathan called, he's meeting up with Julian," a pause, and more static interrupts them, filling the silence as he revved up the engine. "Owen, we're in trouble."