A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I love seeing what you guys think of the story and where you want/think it will go next. I realized as I was typing this up that there is only one or two more chapters after this (depending on how it breaks up). I do have an ending planned, but I am thinking about posting an alternative one afterwards. I will leave that up to you guys when the time comes.

Enjoy!

John had remained outside after Sam had come up to him and said he was leaving. So, when Jessica had returned sans Sam, he waited for her to exit the hospital. He didn't pre-think what he was going to say, but he had the urge to say something. As she left, he noticed the torn look on her face and the fact that her eyes were red; that didn't stop him from approaching her though.

Jess didn't see him until she was right in front of him, blocked from her path by his large form. Her affection towards Sam and Dean did not extend to their dad; while she tried to play Devil's advocate when she was talking to them, secretly, she thought that John needed to get his act together. "John," she greeted coolly.

"Jessica," he returned.

"Did you want something?" She asked abruptly. "Sam and I are leaving and I don't want to make him wait any longer."

John wondered at this new attitude he was getting from her. She had been nice in every way since he had met her; this determined anger was something new. John may be accused of being emotionally stunted, but even he could see that this was Jess's protective side coming out. Protective of Sam, and if he wasn't mistaken, protective of Dean. He was glad to see that his boys had someone willing to go to bat for them so openly.

Not being able to show his own concern so easily, John hedged around the issue. "I take it that you aren't going to leave Sam, despite knowing that it would be for the best?"

Jess leveled him with a stony glare, "No, I'm not."

John didn't know if he should be impressed by her tenaciousness or annoyed of the threat that she posed. Regardless, he was glad that Sam had found someone so loyal to him. Honestly, the girl reminded him a lot of Mary, especially with this new stubbornness that she was showing. Clearing his throat and forcing his mind away from Mary, John ordered, "In that case, make sure you don't do anything stupid, and keep him out of trouble."

While Jess was not that well-versed at decoding John's hidden messages as well as she was Sam's, she took it to mean that John was worried about Sam and was hoping that she could look after him while he was gone. Even though she knew he didn't want her in Sam's life, she felt oddly warmed by the request...well, order. Sam might never see it, and John might do a horrible job at showing it, but she was sure that John really did care for his sons and only wanted what he thought was best for them. To have John ask her to look out for one of them, to trust her to do her best, actually made her feel slightly accepted by him.

Nodding, Jess promised, "I'll will, if you keep an eye out for Dean."

"I don't need you to tell me how..." John instantly jumped defensively, then he took a breath. He hoped that those boys understood just who they had fighting in their corner. It wasn't often people stood up to him, even less when they told him what to do. While he didn't appreciate the parenting advice, he could recognize where it was coming from. "Deal."

Jess studied him and then stuck out her hand. With an amused glint in his eyes, John reached out and took it. "Goodbye, John Winchester."

"Goodbye, Jessica Moore."

It wasn't until after Jessica had reached the hotel that she wondered how John knew her last name was Moore.

John was able to stay at St. Bartholomew's for another solid day, but even as Dean was starting to get used to the idea that his dad was sticking around, John strode into the room. Before John uttered a word, Dean instinctively knew that his dad was leaving; after all, he had a lifetime of these chats for reference.

"Hey, Ace," John threw out.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" Dean asked, wanting to get straight to the issue. His dad never failed on that point.

"I got a call from another hunter, he has a lead for me over in Wyoming. I'm gonna go check it out. Are you going to be okay here?"

Dean plastered a fake smile on his face. At least his dad bothered to ask if he was going to be okay. "Of course, I'll be okay. I'm always okay."

As usual, John didn't delve into Dean's deeper thoughts, more content to accept Dean at face value because it suited his needs. But, he couldn't stop himself from hearing Jessica's final command, to keep an eye out for Dean, so he added, "Good, leave me a message when you get out of here and I'll get a hold of you when I'm done."

"Sounds good," Dean agreed in a similar tone to his previous statement...lying out of his ass.

"See ya later, Dean," his dad said with a final clap on the shoulder before hightailing it out of the hospital.

Dean looked up at the ugly picture in front of his bed once more and released a sigh. The thing was truly fugly. How in the world was that supposed to calm people? A cabin by the lake? That didn't mean peace and serenity; that meant their dad had taken them hunting for some bastard monster that lived in the woods. He hated the woods, he hated monsters, he hated hunting monsters in the woods. He hated cabins in the woods, because let's be honest, they never looked like this homey one; they were dank, they smelled, and he and Sam always ended up sleeping on some couch that looked like it belonged in the landfill. Worse, when one of them got hurt on the hunt and they were miles away from civilization. Adding the coppery smell of blood did nothing to improve the experience.

Dean didn't realize he had moved until he was shakily holding himself up in front of the picture. Bracing himself against the wall with one arm, Dean looked closer at the picture. Cabins didn't have nice fires in them to create a warm glow; they gave you a chill that set in so deep that you couldn't remember what it was like to be warm. No warmth, no happiness, no serenity came from cabins. It was a stupid picture, a stupid picture that failed to do its job...

Linda, the elderly nurse that was so fond of Dean looked up in alarm from her post at the nurse's station when she heard a loud crash coming from Dean's room. Worried that he had tried to get up on his own and fell down, Linda quickly hurried to his room, grabbing the arm of another nurse she passed in the process. When she looked into his room, she was dismayed by the sight.

Sliding down the wall to sit amongst the broken pieces of glass and wooden frame fragments, Dean ignored the frantic questions being shot at him by Linda and wondered, not for the first time, whether choosing his dad was the right decision.

"Hey Dean! We haven't heard from you since we left the hospital. We just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. Give us a call back!"

Dean wiped the motel room towel across his face, roughly rubbing his skin even though he knew all of the sweat and blood had been washed away with the scalding hot shower he had just taken. It had been three months since he had been released from the hospital and two and half since he managed to get a hold of his dad. After a gruffly voiced, "Are you good to hunt?" Dean had been sent on a list of other cases.

Jess had left him a few messages, but despite the lonely nights and days on the road, and the desire to hear how she and Sam were doing, he never picked up and never called back.

He found it grimly humorous that she always said we, as if Sammy honestly knew or cared that she was calling. Normally, he would stave off the desire to hear a friendly voice with a good whiskey (or at least a lot of whiskey), but there was no rest for the wicked and John had already given him orders to follow another lead. So, he was hitting the road as soon as he tossed his things into the duffle bag laying on the bed.

"Hey Dean! Happy Birthday! Have a great day and know that we are thinking of you!"

Dean tossed back a shot with a slight grimace as he turned to look at the well-endowed blond sitting next to him. "So, Ashley."

"Vanessa," she corrected, her bright smile still in place. Who cared if he got her name wrong, he was fit. Besides, she wasn't looking for a future, only some fun.

"Right, silly me," Dean threw out some false self-deprecation and sent her a lecherous grin. "So, you were mentioning a room?"

"Hey Dean, I was just hanging out with my brothers when I thought of you. I wish you would give me a call back. I'm worried about you."

Jess hung up the phone with a long-winded sigh. The truth was, she was hanging out with her brothers and Sam. While Dean popped into her head quite often, she had really gotten the urge to call when she saw Sam and her two brothers laughing about some stupid joke. While Sam had appeared to be enjoying himself, it was different than when he had joked with Dean, not as comfortable.

At first, she had tried to get Sam to call Dean. Tried a hundred times, but each time it was the same answer. He couldn't, Dean had made his choice, he wouldn't encourage Dean's hunting lifestyle, nor would he put his life or her in jeopardy by letting hunting be a part of it.

It didn't help that Dean never responded to her calls. She tried to not bombard him with them, but still, she called at least once a month to leave a quick message. Her messages were now usually limited to a quick, "Hi, please call me back. Hope you're doing okay."

She had never thought it would be this difficult to deal with the Winchesters. She once thought her family could be stubborn, but they took it to a whole new level. If it wasn't for the occasional call to Caleb (who's number she had snuck off of Sam's phone), she wouldn't even know if Dean was still alive. Although, despite all of this, she was determined to stand by them and help in any way she could.

"Hey Dean, I don't know if you still have this number, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Um...I hope you are taking care of yourself and that you find something non-dangerous to do today. My number is the same, feel free to call."

Dean flicked the radio back on as the Impala roared down I-80.

Twenty-six, he was twenty-six years old. When the hell did that happen? It was his birthday and he was on his way to Nebraska...perhaps the last place he wanted to spend his birthday. But, as per usual, he was heading towards a job that his dad had put a rush order on.

He could count on one hand the number of people who had called today. Caleb, Bobby, Pastor Jim, his dad, and now Jess. And, seeing as his dad had called to send him on a new case and not to wish him a happy birthday, he didn't really think that one counted.

He wanted to answer all of Jess's calls, he really did...and that was exactly why he wouldn't. That, and Sammy. He couldn't stick his neck out there again. When had that ever gone over well? His own dad and brother couldn't be bothered with him, why the hell should he trust his brother's girl to care enough to stick around? Also, he knew Sammy's stance on the matter, knew that he wouldn't appreciate him talking to Jess. He wasn't stupid, he had realized that Jess had stopped saying 'we' in the messages awhile back, meaning she had given up the hope that Sam was going to come around.

It didn't matter anyways, he wasn't going to call, and he had more important things than silly chick issues to worry about.

"Damn it, kid! Answer your fucking phone! I am tired of talking to a damn machine. I don't know why you have taken to ignoring me, but it had better stop. Now! Call me."

Dean flipped out a fake FBI badge as he questioned a woman who claimed she had been curse by a voodoo priestess down in New Orleans. He had taken this job after his dad mentioned that it was in New Orleans. Wanting a change of scenery from his normal dirt and cornstalk plagued drives, Dean had eagerly hit the road. But, when he called to check in, his dad didn't answer. In fact, he hadn't answered or returned a call in almost a week. While it was not unusual for John to disappear off of the face of the planet, usually when Dean was on a case, he would make the effort to check in every once in a while. But this time, nothing.

Caleb's message had Dean admitting something he already knew, that he was ignoring people. Jess was already a given, but in the last two months, he had stopped answering Caleb and Bobby's calls as well, forcing them to leave messages. Really, his dad had been keeping him so busy that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to keep in touch with everybody all the time. And, he really didn't want to. He was better off on his own, the last two years had taught him that. When he was hunting, he didn't have to answer to anyone, didn't have to worry about keeping anyone else safe...it was almost liberating. Sure, the road got lonely sometimes, but it was nothing a quick pick-me-up couldn't solve; preferably a leggy blond pick-me-up. So, he just stopped answering and figured if it was important enough, they would leave a message.

Another week went by and Dean heard nothing from his dad. He had finally broken down and gotten a hold of the usual suspects to see if they had heard something, but they had nothing either. He knew that his dad was heading to Jericho, California for a hunt, but he wasn't quite sure what he was hunting. If no one had heard from him and he wasn't answering any of his calls, then Dean was sure that something had happened to him on the hunt and he was determined to find out what. Once his decision was made, it took him less than ten minutes to have the Impala on the road.

He was pulled over for the night at the Starlight Motel in Texas when he began flipping through his phone, once again going towards his dad's name. Dean gave his dad a habitual call, knowing he wouldn't pick up for whatever reason. Deep down, he was sure that something had gone wrong on the hunt. As he ended the call, he noticed Jess's name right next to his dad's. Tossing his phone down with a shake of his head, Dean stood up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Turning the tv on, Dean tried to relax enough to get a few hours of shut eye. However, for some reason, the latest infomercial on laundry detergent couldn't keep his mind from straying back to his phone.

"Ah, fuck it," Dean growled out, throwing the remote control onto the bed, snatching his phone up and hitting dial before he could change his mind.

Like with the last chapter, I hope you don't hate me too much. I really like the characters that Kripke has gifted us with and so I am trying to keep them in line with early season one..as much as I wish they would make other decisions sometimes. Please, let me know what you think!