Disclaimer: Any dialogue you may recognise comes from 1x09 Home.

Also, the first chapter of this story has been rewritten/cleaned up, so go and check it out.

Thanks to Nadia for beta-ing.

"I think I found a few candidates for our next gig." Dean said, scrolling through a website on Sam's laptop. "Fishing trawler found of the coast of Cali – crew vanished. Then we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas."

"Just as likely to be natural predators." Jess responded, keeping most of her attention on Sam, who was hunched over a piece of paper.

"Hey." Dean called, following her gaze. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

Sam glanced up. "No, I'm listening. Keep going."

Dean rolled his eyes, but continued. "Here, I've got a Sacramento man who shot himself in the head."

"That's not unnatural," argued Jess.

"He shot himself three times." Dean elaborated.

"Oh." Jess mumbled distractedly, but frowned over at Sam, who was still staring at the piece of paper in his hand. "Sam …"

"I've seen this." Sam said suddenly, reaching for his duffel bag.

"Seen what?" Dean asked, but received no response as Sam rifled through the contents.

"Jess, where's that photograph?" He asked.

"Which photograph?" Jess asked, reaching for her own bag.

"The one of our family when I was younger." Sam answered. "You know the one I mean."

"Here." Jess said, retrieving it from one of the side pockets.

Sam took it, comparing it to the paper he'd been doodling on. "That's it! Dean, I know where we have to go next!"

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home." Sam said. "Back to Kansas."

Dean blinked, but Jess saw the flash of emotion in his eyes before he hid it again. "Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"

Sam handed the photograph to Dean. "This photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

Dean nodded jerkily. "Yeah, why?"

"And it didn't burn down, right?" Sam asked. "I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess so. What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam took a deep breath. "Okay, this is gonna sound crazy, but … the people that live in our old house … I think they might be in danger."

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked, taken aback.

Sam heaved a frustrated sigh. "Look, just … just trust me on this, okay?"

"Trust you?" Dean repeated.

Jess caught Sam's hand as he began to pace. "Sam?" She asked softly. "Is this about the … you know?"

"What?" Dean asked, only to be ignored.

"Yeah, it is." Sam said softly. "I can't let it happen again, Jess."

"What?!" Dean repeated impatiently. "What can't happen again?!"

Sam shook his head, but Jess sighed. "There was a reason why I came with you to Jericho, Dean."

"Jess …" Sam said pleadingly.

"Sam, he needs to know." Jess said gently. "Especially if it's happening again."

"Well, I have these nightmares." Sam said reluctantly.

Dean nodded, looking concerned. "I've noticed."

"And sometimes … they come true."

Dean blinked. "Come again?"

"He dreamed about what happened to Mom for weeks before it happened." Jess elaborated. "He assumed it was me, and told me about them; that's why I came with you."

"People have weird dreams." Dean said with a shrug. "It probably was you in the dream."

"No, I dreamed everything." Sam corrected. "In the dream, I was lying on the bed, I had a pain in my chest, from where Constance Welch tried to rip my heart out, and her blood dripped on to my face. The night before, in Jericho, my dream changed – I heard Jess scream, ran into the bedroom and saw her burst into flames. It wasn't until it happened that I realised it wasn't Jess in the last dream. And now I'm dreaming about our old house, about a woman screaming for help. I mean, that's where it started; it has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know." Dean responded weakly.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Sam asked. "This woman might be in danger; it might even be the same thing that killed Mom and …"

"Sammy, slow down!" Dean snapped, beginning to pace the floor like a caged animal. "I mean, first you tell me you got the Shining, then you tell me I've gotta go back home?! Especially when …"

"When what?" Sam prompted.

"When I promised myself that I'd never go back there." Dean finished, his voice breaking slightly.

"Dean." Jess said softly. "We need to check it out."

Dean nodded, his jaw clenching. "Yeah, I know."

The new owner of the Winchester house, a young woman named Jenny and her two children, were indeed dealing with something supernatural, although they hadn't realised it yet.

Aside from Jenny's descriptions of flickering lights and scratches in the walls, her daughter, Sari, had reported a 'thing on fire' in her closet.

When they had left the house (for once, they had foregone a cover story; Jenny was more than happy to let the boys in to see their old home), Jess had been left to deal with two men who were both far more shaken than they let on.

And they let on a lot, for once.

After she had relieved Dean of the keys and driven them to the nearest gas station, they had almost calmed down.

Almost.

"Look, if this was any other job, what would we do?" Jess asked.

"We'd try and figure out what we were dealing with." Sam said. "Dig into the history of the house."

"Except we already know the history!" Dean protested.

"Then tell me." Jess said gently. "Tell me what happened. Maybe there's something you haven't picked up on."

Dean leaned against the car. "Mom screamed. Woke me up. I ran into the hall and asked Dad what was going on. I remember the heat and the fire, but that's about it. Dad just shoved Sammy at me, told me to take him outside as fast as I could and not look back. So I did."

"You carried me out?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yeah." Dean frowned slightly. "You never knew that?"

Sam shook his head.

"And did your dad ever talk about what happened that night?" Jess asked gently.

"He found Mom on the ceiling. Whatever did it was long gone." Dean cleared his throat. "That's about it."

"He never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he never told me." Dean said. "God knows we asked enough times."

"Never wrote it down either." Jess added. "I must have read that journal, like, ten times."

"So we need to figure out what happened back then." Sam said. "See if it's the same thing."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, talk to Dad's friends, neighbours. See what they remember."

Sam sighed. "This feel like another job to you?"

"I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean muttered, walking away.

Jess watched him go sadly, and turned to Sam. "Hey, can I borrow your phone? I'm low on battery; need to call the bank."

"Sure." Sam said, handing it over. "You want anything when I pay for gas?"

"No thanks, I'm fine." Jess said, moving away out of earshot. She waited until Dean returned before scrolling through Sam's contact list. She had a feeling that Dean had been covering a phone call, and she was fairly sure she knew who he had called, but she wasn't about to take chances.

Selecting the entry labelled 'Dad', she pressed call and waited.

Unsurprisingly, the voicemail picked up. "This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean at 866-907-3235. He can help."

Beep.

"Mr Winchester, my name is Jessica, I'm Sam's girlfriend." Jess said, glancing back at the boys. "I don't know if Dean's called you, or if he's given up leaving messages, but we're in Lawrence; there's something in your old house, and it might be connected to what happened to your wife. We're all a bit at sea here; we could really use some help. Thank you."

After much discussion, Jess convinced the boys to let her go and talk to their father's old work partner by herself. Her argument was that they would find it difficult to keep character if something was revealed, and Sam finally agreed, which helped convince Dean of the same.

Mike Guenther had been working on a pick-up truck when she walked into the auto-repair shop, but stopped working when she mentioned John Winchester.

"So you and John owned this business together?"

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago." He said, wiping his hands on an oily rag. "Matter of fact, must be … twenty years, since John disappeared. Why are the cops interested all of a sudden?"

Jess shrugged. "Re-opening some of our unsolved cases. Apparently, we've got too many of them. The Winchester disappearance is one of them.

"What do you wanna know about him?" Mike asked.

"Whatever you remember." Jess said. "What sticks out in your mind?"

Mike chuckled. "Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And whatever the game … he hated to lose, you know? The whole Marine thing. But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Jess asked.

"That's right."

"He ever talk about that night?" Jess prompted.

"No, not at first." Mike said. "I think he was in shock."

Jess nodded. "Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?"

Mike sighed. "Oh, he wasn't thinking straight. He said something caused that fire and killed Mary."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "He ever say what?"

"Nothing did it." Mike insisted. "It was an accident. Electrical short in the ceiling or something. I begged him to get help, but ... but he just got worse and worse."

Jess wasn't about to say anything, but even if John had lost it, that was not the best way to go about dealing with it. "Worse how?"

"Oh, he started reading all these strange books. Started going to see this palm reader in town, weird stuff."

"Be glad you weren't there." Jess told the boys, when they met up near a payphone. "He thinks your Dad's cuckoo. All but called CPS on you."

"Why did you want a payphone?" Sam asked.

"Because your dad made several visits to a palm reader." Jess answered. "He didn't have a name, but they must be in the book. Could be the real deal."

"Fair enough." Sam said, leafing through the phone book. "Err … Alright, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone called El Devino. There's …" he sniggered. "There's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky … Missouri Moseley …"

"Wait." Jess interrupted. "Missouri Moseley?"

"Yeah." Sam looked up. "Why, does that mean something to you?"

"Dad's journal." Dean murmured. "That's a psychic?"

"I thought he meant the state." Jess said.

"What are you two talking about?" Sam demanded.

"Here." Dean reached into the back of the car and extracted the journal. "Read this. First page, first sentence."

Sam flipped it open. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth."

"Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." Missouri closed the front door behind her latest client and turned to the three hunters, shaking her head sadly. "Poor bastard. His wife is stone-cold bangin' the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for truth. They come here for good news." Missouri set her hands on her hips. "Well? Sam and Dean, come on in already. I ain't got all day."

Exchanging bewildered glances, they followed her through a veil of beads into the back sitting room.

"Well, lemme look at you." Missouri laughed in delight. "Oh, you grew up handsome." She pointed at Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid too." As Sam snickered, she reached out a hand to Jess, who took it. "And Jessica … Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry about your momma. And, boys, your father … he's missing?"

"How'd you know that?" Jess asked.

"Well, you were thinkin' it just now."

"Where is he?" Dean asked. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know." Missouri answered.

"Don't know?" Dean repeated. "Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Dean!" Jess chided. "Psychics aren't magicians; they don't pluck information out of thin air."

"At least one of you has a brain in your head." Missouri said. "Sit please. Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'mma smack you with a spoon." She snapped at Dean.

"I didn't do anything!" Dean protested.

"But you were thinking about it." Missouri said.

Jess choked back a laugh. "So when did you first meet their dad?"

"He came for a reading a few days after the fire." Missouri answered. "I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I … drew back the curtain."

"What about our mom?" Dean asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little." Missouri said gently. "Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked.

Missouri hesitated.

"What was it?" Jess prompted.

"I don't know." Missouri whispered. "Oh, but it was evil."

Missouri was surprised to hear that they thought there was something back in the Winchester house, telling them there had been no incidents in the intervening years that would warrant a haunting, but agreed to accompany them to the house anyway.

When Jenny opened the door, she was clutching her son, looking harried. "Sam, Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Jenny, are you alright?" Jess asked.

Jenny shook her head, clinging to Ritchie. "I don't know what's going on."

Dean sighed. "Jenny, listen …"

He was cut off by Missouri smacking him over the head. "Give the poor girl a break; can't you see she's upset?" She smiled at Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool box, but hear me out."

"About what?" Jenny asked.

"About this house." Missouri answered.

Jenny frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about." Missouri said. "You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I right?"

Jenny looked simultaneously nervous and relieved. "Who are you?"

"People who can help." Jess answered. "But you need to trust us. Just a little bit."

Jenny hesitated, then stepped back to let them in. "I don't know what it is."

"Neither do we at the moment." Dean said. "We'll figure it out."

"Has something else happened since we were here last?" Jess asked.

"Well, I got a plumber in about the water, and the … the waste disposal unit chewed his hand up." Jenny said shakily. "And just now, Ritchie managed to get out of his playpen and into the fridge."

Jess examined the child-proof locks on both items. "That's quite a trick. Didn't your daughter say there was something in her closet?"

Jenny nodded. "I thought it was just imagination, but with everything that's happened …"

"Can we see Sari's room please?" Sam asked.

Jenny nodded, leading them upstairs. Missouri made a small understanding noise as they entered. "If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the centre of it."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"This used to be your nursery." Missouri answered. "This is where it happened."

Sam glanced at the ceiling automatically as Dean pulled out his EMF meter, determinedly looking down.

"Is that an EMF reader?" Missouri asked.

"Yeah."

"Amateur." Missouri said as the meter began beeping frantically. "I don't know whether you should be disappointed or relieved, but this isn't the thing that killed your mom."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here." Missouri said. "It's something different."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not it." Missouri said. "Them. There's more than one spirit in this place."

"Why are they here?" Jess asked.

"Because of what happened here." Missouri answered. "All those years ago, real evil walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. Sometimes wounds get infected."

"Like a magnet for the paranormal." Jess concluded.

Missouri nodded. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said there was more than one." Sam said.

"There is." Missouri said, frowning. "I just can't make out the second one."

"Well, one thing's for damn sure." Dean said, scowling. "No one's dying in this house ever again. Whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

That night, the three hunters sat in the Impala outside the house.

Warding a house against a poltergeist while said poltergeist was trying to kill them hadn't been easy, but they'd managed to get out of it without too many scrapes and, once Dean had cleaned up the mess (at Missouri's insistence) and Missouri had assured them that the house was now clean, they had said their goodbyes and set off.

But Sam had refused to leave Lawrence just yet, which led to the quiet vigil outside the house.

"What are we still doing here?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam muttered. "I just … I still have a bad feeling."

"Why?" Dean asked. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean. It should be over."

"Yeah, well, probably." Sam conceded. "I just want to be sure, that's all."

"Problem is, I could be sleeping in a bed right now." Dean muttered, closing his eyes.

Sam chuckled, but the laughter suddenly died. "Guys, look!"

Jess dived for the door and got out the car, peering up at Jenny's window to see her pounding on the glass, screaming.

"You two grab the kids; I'll get Jenny!" Dean shouted, as they sprinted for the house.

The front door opened easily, and they ran upstairs, all aiming for different bedrooms. Jess let Sam handle Sari, bursting into Ritchie's room.

He was standing in his crib, crying, and she scooped him up, running for the front door. She made it outside just after Dean and Jenny, and handed the boy over to his mother, turning around in time to see Sari running out of the house.

"Sari, where's Sam?" Dean asked, kneeling down to her eye level.

Sari was sobbing, but her words were understandable. "He's inside. Something's got him."

Dean and Jess looked up sharply, in time to see the front door slam shut. Without exchanging a word, they ran back to the car.

While Dean grabbed an axe and ran to break down the front door, Jess loaded two guns with salt rounds and ran to join him, just as he made a hole big enough for them to squeeze through.

"Sam?!" Dean called.

"Sam!" Jess skidded to a halt in the kitchen, finding Sam pinned against the wall by his throat, staring at a figure made entirely of fire. She raised her gun, unconsciously mimicking Dean, who was right behind her.

"No!" Sam gasped out. "Don't shoot!"

"What? Why?" Dean asked, not lowering his gun.

"Because I know who it is." Sam whispered. "I can see her now."

As Sam finished talking, the fire vanished, leaving behind a woman who Jess knew only from photographs.

Dean lowered his gun slowly. "Mom?"

Mary Winchester, still dressed in the nightdress she had died in, stepped towards them, smiling softly. "Dean."

Jess had also lowered her gun, her hand clenched around it as though it was the only thing grounding her.

Mary's eyes travelled from Dean to Sam, drinking in the sight of the son who couldn't even remember her. "Sam."

Sam could only manage a weak smile, still struggling against the poltergeist pinning him to the wall, tears beginning to make their way down his face as he heard his mother say his name for the first time in his memory.

Her smile faded, and she suddenly looked very sad. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam choked out.

Mary didn't answer, looking at him sadly for a few more seconds, before turning away. As she did, her gaze caught Jess's.

Neither of them said anything, but a silent understanding passed between the two women.

Look after my boys.

I will. You know I will.

Directing her attention at the ceiling, Mary took a few steps away from them. "You, get out of my house. And let go of my son."

Her words dripped with a venom Jess hadn't expected, and Mary Winchester suddenly burst into flames once more.

The inferno roared towards the ceiling, spreading across it, and rolled back in on itself, vanishing completely, leaving the kitchen untainted and Mary nowhere to be seen.

Sam gasped in air, stumbling away from the wall. "Now it's over." He said hoarsely, rubbing his throat.

Jess emptied her gun out of habit, sticking the rounds in her pocket, before slipping the gun inside her jacket. The chances of it going off were low, but she wasn't going to take any chances. "Are you both okay?"

"We should get out of here." Dean said bluntly. "Let Jenny know everything's okay. Preferably before someone calls the police."

"You're fixing their door before we leave." Jess told him, reluctantly letting him change the subject.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

The next morning (once Dean and Sam had fixed the hole in Jenny's front door), Jenny retrieved a box from the basement that had been left behind when the Winchesters fled Kansas.

While Dean rifled through the pictures, Sam and Jess sat on the front step, waiting for Missouri to finish checking the house.

"How are you doing?" Jess asked quietly.

"My throat's still a bit sore." Sam answered.

"Not what I meant." Jess said, smiling weakly.

"I know." Sam said with a sigh. "Honestly, Jess, I don't know. I don't remember Mom, shouldn't remember her, but now … now I've seen her, there's all these fragments in my memory that I want to believe are true, but …"

"Then believe it." Jess said simply.

"What do you think she was apologising for?" Sam asked.

Jess hesitated. "Leaving you, probably."

"You don't believe that." Sam said, non-accusing. "I thought that to start with, but that apology was definitely aimed at me. If it was that, she would have said it to Dean as well."

"Maybe she knows what Dean's like with chick-flick moments." Jess joked.

"Jess …"

"I know." Jess grimaced. "I don't know, Sam. A mother's instinct is to protect her child, something dangerous got close to you that night, maybe that's why she was apologising."

"Or maybe something happened to me that night." Sam whispered. "Maybe she knew, Jess. Something's happening to me, and you know it."

Jess lifted the hand clutching hers and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. "It'll be okay, Sam. Jenny and her children are alive because of you. Remember that."

"Well, there are no spirits there anymore." Missouri announced, exiting the house. "This time for sure."

"Not even my mom?" Sam asked, scooting over so Missouri could sit beside them.

"No." Missouri said gently.

"What happened?" Jess asked.

"Mary's spirit and the poltergeist's energy cancelled each other out." Missouri explained. "She destroyed herself going after that thing."

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Sam, you do ask stupid questions sometimes." Jess said fondly. "To protect her boys, obviously. Where is she now then?"

Missouri smiled. "Child, there are some questions no one on this plane can answer." She heaved a sigh. "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked.

"You sensed it was here, didn't you?" Missouri said. "Even when I couldn't."

"What's happening to me?" Sam whispered.

"I know I should have all the answers." Missouri patted his arm. "But I don't know."

"Sam? Jess?" Dean called. "You ready?"

Missouri and Jenny said goodbye, and the hunters piled into the car and drove away.

"Well," Jess said into the tense silence. "That was one hell of a case."

"You can say that again." Dean muttered.

"Did your dad ever call back?" Jess asked. She smiled slightly when he gave her a startled look in the rear view mirror. "It was kind of obvious you'd call him."

Dean grimaced. "Not a word."

"You think he's okay?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yes." Dean said firmly. "He must be."

Jess turned to look out the window, hiding a grimace. He'd better be. Because I don't know what they'll do if he isn't.