When the Cradle Falls

Chapter Twenty-One: Copilot

Stanford University

Palo Alto, California

A Few Months Later

A long legged, young blonde untied the ribbons securing the small piece of fabric to her body. Flipping a lock of curly blonde hair over her shoulder, the girl smiled at the mirror, looking at the reflection of the figure behind her. A young man with his back to the mirror pulled off a shirt and went to put on a nightshirt.

Gliding across the floor, the beautiful woman gently removed the shirt from the man's hand. She placed one hand on his shoulder blade and dropped the shirt with the other. With her now free hand, she turned his head towards him and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. "I like you better without the shirt, Sam," she whispered against his lips.

Smirking, Sam spun himself around and wrapped both arms around his girlfriend, Jess. His hands began to undo the rest of the outfit she wore. "And as much as I love this sexy little nurse costume, I think I like you better in nothing."

"Oh really?" Jess raised her arms above her head and allowed Sam to pull the costume off of her. She wound her arms around his neck and began to kiss his jawline.

The couple gave a few heated kisses as Sam slowly started to move Jess back to the bed. He gently laid her down on it and leaned over her, beginning to kiss her clavicle. She sighed and turned her head to the side, one hand unconsciously fanning out her blonde curls.

"Thanks for putting up with me tonight. I know Halloween isn't your favorite holiday," Jess muttered, eyes closed, completely relaxed.

Stopping, Sam raised himself up over Jess, forearms resting on either side of her head. "You know you never need to thank me. I'd do anything for you."

"I love you Sam."

"Love you more, Jess."

There was a creak that caused Sam's eyes to fly open in the middle of the night. Flooded with adrenaline, he felt his body stiffen, breathing automatically become deeper and quieter. Slowly getting out of bed so not to wake Jess, he crept down the hall, carefully scanning the dark apartment.

A shadow moved in front of the gauzy curtained window, illuminated by the moonlight outside.

Whole body tensing, Sam's body went on autopilot a he lunged forward and began to grapple with the intruder. Sam knew he was out of practice, but he was shocked when the intruder began to block every single punch and kick he was throwing. Stunned for a moment, the intruder took Sam's shock to kick him back into the next room.

Still reeling from the surprise, the intruder arm barred Sam across the shoulders, effectively sending him to the ground.

"Whoa, easy there tiger," came a carefree voice, painfully familiar to Sam.

Squinting, and breathing heavily, Sam began to make out the face of his older brother, the brother he had not seen in over four years. "Dean? You scared the crap out of me."

"It's cause you're out of practice," Dean said with his trademark smirk.

Feeling a rush of emotions of being a kid, Sam moved quickly and flipped Dean, so his older brother was now the one pinned to the floor. "Or not," Dean laughed, "But seriously get off me."

Standing up, Sam held out a hand to his brother until both were standing.. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean laughed and looked around the room. "Well, I was looking for a beer."

Unamused, Sam repeated the question, but slowly and more articulately.

"Okay, alright. We gotta talk," Dean responded placatingly, brushing off the front of Sam's shirt for him.

Sam swiped Dean's hand away. "Uhh...the phone?" He asked like it was obvious.

"If I'd've called would you have picked up?"

The lights flicked on before the small coil of guilt in Sam could spring up.

"Sam?"

Like a kid with has hand caught in the cookie jar, Sam took a step away from his brother. "Jess. Hey." He turned to his brother, noticing how Dean automatically began to take in every inch of her appearance. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait, your brother Dean?" A smile grew over Jess's face. Happy she was finally getting to meet Sam's illusive family, she stepped forward further into the room.

"You know, I love the Smurfs," Dean informed her. He pointed to the crop top with the cut down the middle. Jess smirked at him. She could tell he was a charmer, a real Casanova-he "got around", was Sam's wording, she recalled. "And I gotta tell you," Dean continued, "you are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just...lemme put something on."

"No no no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyways, I gotta borrow your boyfriend to talk about some family business, but it was...nice meeting you." Dean stepped back over to Sam and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Shoving Dean's hand off, Sam moved back over to Jess and wrapped in arm around her. "No. Whatever wanna you say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay." Dean squared himself up. "Dad hasn't been home in a while."

Sam shrugged. What was the big deal? "So he's working overtime on a Miller timeshift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Figuring Sam would paint John as the villain, Dean clarified his position. "Dad's on a hunting trip. He hasn't been home in nearly three months."

Feeling his mouth involuntarily come open, Sam gently removed his arm from Jess. "Jess, excuse us."

Stomping down the dark stairs of the apartment complex, Sam followed Dean as he began to walk towards the familiar black Impala. "Look, I get Dad's in trouble but you can't show up in the middle of the night-"

"Did you hear what I said? Dad's missing and-"

"He's always missing Dean. And he's always fine, Dean. And by the way, it's Sam."

Ignoring his younger brother's request, Dean tried his best to explain himself. When Dean had initially told Sam in his apartment, he seemed worried, but the closer they got to the Impala, the more resistant Sam was becoming. Dean didn't know what to think of his younger brother anymore, who was basically a gangly teenager the last time he'd seen him. Now he was an overgrown adult, it seemed.

"Look Sam, it's been a few months. It's never been this long," Dean muttered quietly. They had reached the Impala, and he unlocked the trunk, propping it open. Focused on unearthing the hidden weapons' cache below, Dean thought about how this situation was his fault. He had been with Alice for a couple months and had forgotten about John Winchester. It was until he'd gotten a haunting voicemail that he'd remembered his other life, his real life. And he'd been searching alone for a couple months already. Bobby and John weren't exactly on the best terms, so Dean didn't want to bother the older man. And Jan was busy making sure Alice and the kids were safe while he was away.

Sam was the only one left he could ask for help. Sam was the last resort.

"Come on, Sam. Something's wrong. I can feel it. Now, are you gonna help me or not?"

Looking back towards the apartment, Sam shook his head. "I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Why not?" Dean sighed.

"I can't. I swore I was done."

"Look man, I know it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad," Dean tried to reason.

Sam scoffed and gave Dean an incredulous glare. "That bad? Yeah, it was! When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45! I was only nine years old!"

Trying and failing to come to his father's defense, Dean suddenly imagined Cara or Noah pointing a handgun at a shadow in their closet. Stomach turning, Dean tried to convince himself the situations were different. The way he and Sam were raised was out of necessity. He couldn't compare his own childhood to his children's'.

"But…" Dean stumbled, "Sam, come on. You should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there. And you know Dad was just doing the best he could."

"I know, but still. We were raised like warriors. Ever since Mom was killed, Dad let his obsession with finding the thing that killed her consume our entire lives. Dean, we gave up our childhoods for that, and we still haven't found the damn thing, not in twenty-two years."

"We've saved a lot of people along the way."

"You really think Mom would've wanted this for us? Honestly?"

At an impasse, Dean crossed his arms. "So what you're gonna…" Live some apple pie life? He couldn't finish the sentence. That would've made him a hypocrite of the highest order.

"Gonna what? I'm done hunting, Dean."

"Is that why you left?" He knew he didn't have any right to feel upset with Sammy leaving, but the wound he'd ignored for four years was finally popping open.

Indignant, Sam scoffed. "I was just going to college. Dad was the one who told me to stay gone. That's what I've been doing."

"Well, I'm not Dad. And I'm asking you for help. Just this once. Do this once thing for me and I won't bother you again, Sam." It was perhaps a lie, but it was maybe the only thing would get Sam to help him.

Sam sighed and relented. "Fine. I'll help. But I have to be back by Monday. I have this interview. It's for law school."

Dean felt a rush of pride and betrayal at the same time. Internally chastising himself, he advised Sam to skip it. It was going to take a whole lot longer than a weekend to find John at the rate Dean had been working at, especially since Sammy was probably out of practice.

"It's my entire future on a plate, Dean. I can't skip it."

There was a beat of silence.

"Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it, Dean."

"Fine. We'll have you back for your big shot interview."

Sam shoved a couple more articles of clothing into his duffel bag, quickly moving around the small bedroom, gathering other things he'd need for the weekend. There were so many things in his mind he didn't see Jess standing in the doorway.

Her hair had been pulled up into a bun, and she wore one of his large Stanford hoodies. "So you're just...leaving? Is this about your Dad? Is something wrong with him"

Snapping back to reality, Sam turned his attention to her. "Just some family drama. Nothing too serious."

Jess frowned, not entirely believing him. "Your brother said he was on some hunting trip?"

"Yeah," Sam said, looking away from her. "Deer hunting. He's probably holed up at the family cabin with Joe, Jack, and Jose. We're just gonna drag him back. This happens sometimes."

Squinting her eyes, Jess, worried for Sam, was torn between trusting him and wanting to question him. He hadn't spoken to his family in four years, hardly even talked about them, and now he was taking off with his brother in the middle of the night. She had never really asked about his family, or his past-it was something he didn't really like to talk about-but something had obviously changed.

"And the interview?" Jess prompted.

Sam kissed the side of her head, still not making eye contact with her. "I'll make it. Don't worry, I'll be back by then." He slid past her, down the hallway.

"Sam, wait." She jogged after him into the living room. "Will you slow down for a minute?"

Pausing, Sam turned around, finally looking her in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he said lowly. "I know this is kinda out of blue…"

Jess shook her head and place a hand on his cheek. "Baby, I'm not mad at you, I'm just worried...are you sure you're okay?"

Leaning into her touch, Sam nodded. "I'm fine. Don't worry, Jess. Everything will be fine. I'll be back in time for the interview."

With a sigh, she moved some hair out of his face. "Look, I can tell something is bothering you, Sam. You know you can always talk to me-"

"Babe, I know. Look, Dean's waiting for me I should-"

"-go. Yeah, I know," Jess said with a sigh, having to let the situation go.

"I love you. I gotta go." He gave her a quick peck on the lips and exited the room.

"Love you too," she called after him, with a deflated tone. She heard the front door slam, and watched from behind the curtain as he got into his brother's black car.

Once the two were settled in the Impala, Dean turned on the radio and let some classic rock seep into the car.

Looking around the vehicle, Sam tried to remember he was a grown up with a girlfriend and not a kid who had to do everything his father said. Even when John Winchester wasn't there, Sam couldn't help but feel a certain level of disdain for the man. But as much as he wanted to admit it, he was worried. Sure, their father disappeared for a couple weeks at a time when they were kids, but that was a long stretch of time.

"So...Dad's been gone for three weeks and now you just start to look for him?" Sam asked. He tried to remain neutral but was a little peeved Dean couldn't handle their father on his own.

Dean sucked in his teeth. It partially was his fault. He had been at Alice's until a couple weeks ago, when he realized he in fact hadn't heard from his father. It was amazing how quickly Dean had been able to forget about John. It really concerned him. "We hunt apart a lot. No more than a few weeks at a time. We keep in touch every couple days. That voicemail was what really let me know something was wrong."

Sam recalled the voicemail John had left for Dean, where was he in Jericho, California. "Be very careful Dean, we're all in danger." Then Dean had run it through the Gold wave and they'd heard the haunted voice of a woman. "I can never go home," she had said.

Sam shook his head. "You should've started looking sooner." The comment was involuntary and perhaps unfair on the part of his brother, but he knew how his dad could be.

Dean should've done everything sooner. He didn't know how many bridges he'd burned in the past four years. He was just lucky Alice had taken him back, and the only reason he'd gone back to her was because Jan and Bobby had basically forced him to. Reaching out to Sam had been a last last resort. He knew his brother wanted nothing to do with the family, and couldn't blame him for that when Dean had been doing the same thing since he was seventeen. "I thought I could handle it," Dean admitted. He wanted to tell Sam he wanted to go after him, that he had tried to call him.

But it didn't matter.

"I still can't believe Dad's been letting you hunt by yourself."

Dean scoffed. "I'm twenty-six, dude. I've been hunting solo for nearly a decade."

"Whatever, man.

"I'm not gonna have to teach you how to use a sawed off am I?"

"What, why?"

"Just saying, you're probably kinda rusty, there kiddo."

Sam shook his head in disbelief, still he was smiling. "I took you down no problem."

"Yeah well I-"

"Right Dean."

Pouting Dean, regripped the steering wheel and focused on the road. He began to think about Allie and the kids. Cara was still frosty to him, which was something he didn't see going away anytime soon. At least Noah and Alice had forgiven him.

It was out of the blue, but Dean began to think if Jess and Alice would get along. He could tell Sam was head over heels for the girl. They seemed pretty serious.

God you sound like a woman, Dean thought to himself. Besides, before any of that happened, he had to tell Sam about Alice and the kids. He'd been wanting to do it for years, but never knew when, and then when Sam left, he lost his chance. But now, here his brother was again.

"Hey Sammy?"

"It's Sam."

There was a silence.

"What, Dean?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you remembered that hunt in Madison, Wisconsin. It would've been the late nineties?"

Sam frowned. "What were we hunting?"

Dean felt himself chuckling. "It was that ghoul but it was the dumbest thing I've ever seen. You remember when it tried to steel the rims off my baby? I was pissed when I found that thing. Damn I've never seen something run so fast."

Stilling, Sam turned and looked at Dean. "I wasn't there, Dean."

"Yes you were. Remember the diner with the-"

"No, cause I wasn't there. That was one of the solo hunts you went on."

The smile wiped itself off Dean's face. The foggy parts of the memory cleared a bit and Dean realized Sam was right. Sammy hadn't been there.

"Right. I must've been thinking about a different hunt. They all blend together after awhile."

"Right."

With the mood effectively ruined, Dean turned up the volume, letting the music cushion the awkwardness between the two brothers. Both just hoped the entire weekend wouldn't be this painful.

It was early the next morning, and they were stopped at some podunk gas station in the middle of nowhere, and already, Sam had a voicemail from Jess. "Hey Sam, I know it's the middle of the night and you haven't been gone long but, I just wanted you to know I'm sorry for not trusting you. Do what you have to do and I'll be here whenever you get home. I love you."

Thinking about how much he didn't deserve her, Sam was just about to call her back when the driver's door opened and Dean slid in, dumping a heap of junk food on the seat between them.

Dean grabbed a bag of chips and pop and offered them to Sam. "Want some breakfast?"

Slightly disgusted, Sam shook his head. Shrugging, Dean opened the bag for himself and began to munch of chips.

"Breakfast of Champions, huh Dean?"

Dean smirked. "You know it."

Sam had turned his attention to the box that was at his feet. "So...how are you and Dad paying for all this stuff? Still running credit card scams?"

Taking a swig of the dark colored pop, Dean laughed. "Hunting ain't exactly pro-ball. Look, we just apply. It's not my fault they keep sending us cards."

"Yeah? What names did you use this time?" Sam challenged.

"Burt Aframian and his loving son Hector," Dean informed, as it it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam turned and scrutinized his brother. "No."

"What?" Dean asked, mouth full of orange chips.

"I don't see it."

"See what?"

"You don't look like a Hector. You're too short."

"Well we can't all be the Jolly Green Giant."

Still on the high of making fun of his brother, Sam shook the box of cassettes. "I swear, you gotta update your music collection."

Truly offended, a chip stopped halfway to Dean's mouth. "What's wrong with it?"

"First of all: they're cassettes. Second of all: you got anything that's not Mullet Rock?"

"What's wrong with that? I bet you listen to crap like Three Doors Down and Nickelback-"

"How do you know who Nickelback is?" Sam suddenly asked.

Dean snapped his mouth shut. Alice liked them. God, her taste in music was awful. "Come on man, I'm not that old."

Sam chuckled. "It would be nice if you could play something within our lifetimes, though."

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"It's Sam-"

Dean turned his old music way up and gave Sam a shiteating grin. "What?"

"Jerk!" Sam yelled over the music, feeling himself smile.

"Bitch!" Dean yelled back.

And there they went, burning rubber, churning the asphalt towards Jericho.

Sam had called several hospitals and morgues, and with a strange combination of relief and impatience, found their father was at least not dead or injured. The next logical thing they had decided to do was start working the case he had been working, retracing his footsteps.

The first step had been investigating the bridge that had been blocked off, and after that Sam and Dean had talked to the girlfriend of the guy that mysteriously vanished, and then they had gone to the library to do research on the history of the bridge, where they currently were, holed up in the back with a computer.

Dean, squinting at the screen, typed much too slow for Sam's taste. For about the fifth time, his search query, "Female Murder Centennial Highway" yielded no results.

"Let me try," Sam said, painfully watching his brother try to navigate the computer.

"I got it," Dean muttered, swatting Sam's hand away.

With an irritated huff, Sam shoved Dean's rolly chair aside and took his place in front of the computer, vigorously typing away.

"Dude," Dean growled, wheeling back over, "you are such a control freak."

Ignoring him, Sam thought out loud to himself. "Angry spirits are born out of a violent death. If it's not murder…" He typed in "Female Suicide Centennial" and an article popped up, titled "Suicide on Centennial". With a victorious smirk, Sam turned to gloat.

"Congrats. You're a computer nerd. Good for you," Dean said sarcastically.

With a triumphant chuckle, Sam clicked the article and scanned through it. "Okay. It's says 1981, Constance Welch, age twenty-four, jumps off the bridge and drowns in the river."

"Say why'd she do it?"

"Yeah. God…" Sam muttered, scrolling down a little further. "It says an hour before she killed herself, she had called the police. Apparently her two kids had drowned in the bathtub. Says she left them alone for a minute, she comes back, and they're both dead."

Two kids. Drowning. The scene would always be fresh in his head, the one where is kids were being drowned in a murky pond. He could still hear their screams.

A minute. All it took was a minute. It had only been a few when Alice and Dean had lost track of Cara and Noah. And those few minutes had almost cost them their children.

Standing up shakily, Dean didn't hear Sam read out the rest of the article. Without a word, Dean flew out of the library and tried to get a grip on the situation. How could he be so triggered by one little article? It was pathetic. But the more and more he thought about it, the more angered he began at those Hanratty boys, and then that demon bitch Sonja that couldn't seem to leave his family alone.

The door was pushed open and Sam looked around, spotting Dean leaning against the side of the building.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked, wondering what the hell had gotten Dean so spooked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. We just gotta find Dad."

"Yeah I agree. But what was that in there? You-"

"It was nothing, Sam. I just remembered something. But it's not important."

Skeptical, Sam raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure-"

"God, just leave it!" Dean growled. "Let's go!"

A few hours later, Dean had regained his composure, but was keyed up by this case. He wanted to find John Winchester. He wanted to see Alice and the kids. And now, he had some sympathy towards this spirit. Usually, he didn't have a sense of sadness for them, but this time was different. The whole thing just pissed him off, especially cause he knew he had to gank this Constance chick who was just a mother in mourning of her children. The whole thing was a whirlwind in the gray area.

The two brothers stood on the abandoned, darkened bridge. They slowly walked towards the railing. "This must've been where she took the swan dive," Dean commented.

"You think Dad was here?" Sam asked. He shined his flashlight along the railing of the bridge, and then over the edge.

"He's chasing the story. We're chasing him," Dean muttered, on edge.

"So, what then?"

"We keep digging. Might take awhile."

"Dean, the interview?"

"The interview. Right." Dean flicked a pebble off the metal railing that had been resting there. He scoffed.

"What's your problem?" Sam demanded. Ever since the episode in the library, Dean had been all pissy. He didn't know what had caused it, since Dean brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Nothing."

"Obviously something is your problem. You've been crabby ever since the library-"

"You're my problem, Sam." Dean pointed a finger at him. He slowly felt himself losing control, and all sense of rationality.

"Why?"

"You're really serious about this? You're gonna marry your girl? Become a lawyer?"

Feeling his hackles raising, Sam crossed his arms defensively. "What's wrong with that?"

"And yet...here you are, back here, hunting with me."

"That's because you dragged me back."

Dean scoffed. "I didn't drag you back. You came willingly."

"Yeah, because Dad was in trouble and you needed my help! What's your point, Dean?"

"You can't have it all!" Dean exploded. "You think you can have this safe and normal apple pie life and pretend like you're not like us!"

"Like who?" Sam scoffed. "Oh, you and Dad? I'm not like you. I'm nothing like you. Never have been."

"You're a hunter, through and through, Samuel, and you can't just pretend you never were. You know that life is gonna catch up with you sooner or later!"

"What do you know, Dean?" Sam shot back. "All you've ever done is blindly follow Dad on hunts! It seems like you two spend more time apart than together anyways! You could've gotten out but you're so brainwashed by Dad's crusade-"

Dean gave a laugh, signalling Sam should stop while he was ahead. "You don't know anything, Sammy. Even though you're a big bad college boy, you don't know anything."

"I do know I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like without pictures. I know that even if we do find the thing that killed her, she's not coming back! And you've thrown away your life to a thankless cause. Congratulations, you've amounted to nothing-"

Before registering what happened, Dean grabbed Sam and forcefully slammed him into the railing. Voice low, Dean got right up in Sam's face, shaking with rage, wanting to throw him over the bridge himself. "I don't care if you don't remember her, Sam, you don't talk about her like that. And don't you dare tell me my life has amounted to nothing. You have no idea. Don't sit up there in your ivy league tower judging me, thinking you're better than me. You're not. And you know nothing."

Stepping back from Sam, breathing heavily, Dean suddenly noticed a movement in his peripheral. "What the hell?" Both brothers turning, they spotted, Constance Welch. She was further down the bridge, balancing precariously on the railing. She was pale, with dark hair, wearing a white nightgown that whipped around in the nonexistent wind. Her tortured face observed them for a moment, before she let herself free fall into the waters below.

Snapping into the action, the harsh exchange of words momentarily forgotten, both boys rush to the railing and peer over the edge into the dark water.

"Where'd she go?" Dean demanded.

A mechanic growling noise answered Dean's question. Heads turning, the bridge was illuminated by the Impala's headlights flicking on.

"Uh….who's driving your car?" Sam asked,

Dumbfounded, Dean reached into his pocket and fished out the keys, wordlessly holding them up for Sam to see.

After a second of confusion, the wheels squealed and the Impala picked up speed, the possessed car bearing down on the pair.

"Go go go! Run run run!" Sam yelled, pushing Dean ahead. The two took off running down the bridge, soon realizing they would not be able to outrun the car. Thinking in tandem, the two grabbed onto the railing and hoisted themselves over the edge. Sam was able to hang on, but Dean quickly lost his grip and there was an expletive, followed by a far away splash.

Panicking, Sam tried to squint into the dark water, while still holding on himself. "Dean? Dean!" He yelled, as the lights and engine of the Impala shut off. The sound of coughing coming from the river helped Sam locate a figure covered in mud, dragging itself to the shore.

"Hey, you alright?" Sam called down to his brother.

"I'm super," came the quiet voice, followed by an okay sign.

With a relieved laugh, Sam hoisted himself back over the bridge to wait for his brother.

A few minutes later, Dean had lumbered up, returning to where they had been before the Impala tried to kill them. And Sam had to say, he looked quite comical, his entire face and clothes covered in mud. Dean was busy muttering about what a bitch Constance was. He came and leaned against the Impala beside Sam.

"You smell like a toilet," Sam commented.

Dean shook his head. "Let's just get a room so I can take a damn shower."

John Winchester, aka Burt Aframian had in fact been staying at the motel the brothers had just checked into. After scouring his room, they found a plethora of clues that they were dealing with a Woman in White, but that their father was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, Dean had gone to get some food and Sam was busy listening to another voicemail from Jess. He felt guilty that she was worried about him, but he didn't know what to say to her in the message. He couldn't explain over the phone and figured talking in person would be better. Hating to lie to her, he'd just have to tell her there was bad cell reception.

With a sigh, Sam saw Dean calling him. "No, I don't want a cream cheese donut Dean-"

"Five-oh. Take off."

Standing quickly, Sam started to gather all their things, after peering outside. "What about you?"

"I've been had. Find Dad."

Sam was quick to escape out the back window of the room, and slinked around the side of the building, hiding in the bushes, just in time to see the police officer confront Dean.

"You got anything that's real?" The cop asked Dean.

With a shiteating grin, Dean beamed at the officer. "My boobs."

"How the hell have you managed to not get yourself killed all these years?" Sam muttered. "Really unbelievable, Dean. Just amazing." He watched around the corner as Dean was slammed against the hood of a cop car and cuffed. Apparently they had done a pretty bad job posing as US Marshals.

Luckily, Sam had managed to find the widower of Constance, Joseph Welch. He figured talking to him would fill in some blanks in the case. Deciding Dean was going to have to hang tight for a while, he waited until the coast was clear before speeding off in the Impala

While Sam was talking to Constance's widower, Dean was let into an interrogation room and cuffed to the table. He had been shittalking the sheriff attempting to interrogate him, which was always fun. He just had to bide his time, waiting for the right moment to escape. He was totally relaxed, totally cool.

That was until the sheriff slammed a leather bound journal onto the metal table. "So...Dean. I know this is your father's."

The smirk quickly wiped itself off Dean' face. He was silent. It was his dad's journal. John never went anywhere without that.

"I ran your name through the scanner and a whole lot of crazy came up on it, son. I've got a whole array of crimes attached to your name. Kidnapping, breaking and entering, assault and battery, evading arrest, aiding and abetting, vandalism...and my personal favorite: mail fraud. But something else interesting came up."

The sheriff pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "A police report mentioning you. All the way back from '01. It was filed by an Officer Adrianna Martinez at the request of an Alice Mercer. Officer Martinez of Batavia, Illinois responded to a call of four missing children. However, it escalated into two of those children being coerced and were nearly drowned by the other two.

"And what do you know, the one to stop the two children from being drowned was none other than our Good Samaritan Felon, Dean Winchester."

"Must be another Dean Winchester."

The sheriff shook his head. "I'm gonna tell you what I know. This woman, Alice Mercer is the mother of the two children that almost drowned, Cara and Noah. And you know what else I think, Dean? Ask me what."

"What?" Dean growled.

"I think Dean Winchester is the father of Cara and Noah."

Dean kept his mouth shut, suddenly feeling the walls of the cinderblock room closing in on him. He felt as though he couldn't breathe, but forced himself to take slow, measured breaths.

"And I would be a pretty penny you and this woman are your kids to be Satanic soldiers, just like your father with you."

"Alice has nothing to do with this. She doesn't know any of this." Dean insisted stonily.

The sheriff smiled, proud he got Dean to admit to who he was. "I didn't think she did. I ran her record. Clean as a whistle. Not even a parking ticket. Don't worry, son. We'll leave them out of this. I'm not in the business of ruining some kid's lives that live on the other side of the country.

"What I care about is what this means." The sheriff opened the journal to a certain page. It said "Dean 35-111" in dark marker.

"Oh that?" Dean returned to his devil-may-care demeanor. "That's my high school locker combo."

The smugness slowly slid off the sheriff's face.

"Fake 911 call? That's pretty illegal Mr. Pre-Law."

"You're welcome," Sam said, one hand on the phone, the other driving towards Constance's old house. After questioning her widower, Joseph, Sam found out she was buried behind her old house. Joseph had been unfaithful to her, which was a trademark of a Woman in White.

"Look, we gotta talk," Dean started.

"I talked to Constance's widower and-"

"Sam wait."

"What?"

"Dad left Jericho."

There was silence for a moment. "How do you know that?"

"He left his journal."

The next few minutes were the brothers trying to figure out why John would leave in the middle of the hunt and what the numbers he left them meant. In the middle of discussing it, Sam suddenly slammed on the brakes as Constance appeared in the middle of the road. The car went straight through her.

Breathing heavily, Sam listened to Dean yelling through the phone, asking if he was okay when Constance atomized into the backseat. "Take me home," she whispered sadly. And just like on the bridge, she took control of the Impala and began to drive it towards a boarded-up, white clapboard house.

Once they pulled up in front, the car stopped and she reappeared in the front seat. Leaning forward, one hand on the dashboard, she looked sadly at the house. "I can never go home." She turned to Sam. "Hold me. I'm so cold." She fritzed in and out, settling on his lap.

"You can't hurt me. I've never been unfaithful," Sam groaned, trying to avoid her cold touch.

Moving with impossible speed, she whispered in his ear. "You will be." She shot a hand out over his heart and Sam began to see everything go white, and feel his chest burn, like he was having a heart attack.

The window exploded and Constance looked up from what she was doing. Head snapping, she watched as Dean walked towards the car, pumping a shotgun full of rock salt.

Gasping and taking the opportunity but still breathing heavily, Sam shoved the car into gear. "I'm taking you home." He stepped on the gas and ran the Impala straight through the front of the house.

In a daze, Sam heard Dean yelling his name, and let himself be dragged out of the car by his brother. Covered in plaster, Sam gripped Dean, slowly feeling himself gain strength from the ordeal.

"You good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

Dean looked around. "Where is she?"

Although they were inside a building, a gust of window began to blow debris around the room, swirling like a tornado growing in size.

"She's here," Sam muttered.

Still supporting Sam, Dean moved the two of them towards one of the windows, hoping to leave the house before the bitch-yes, even Dean thought so now-showed up again.

Supported by a powerful gust of widow, a rotting dresser flew across the room and pinned Sam and Dean up against the wall before they could leave. Both groaning in pain, the wind knocked out of them, they keeled over and watched the scene in front of them, a captive audience.

Constance appeared, standing in the middle of the room, her attention captured by two small figures at the top of the stairs. Dean recognized them as her children. Had they been trapped in this house the entire time?

"You've come home to us, Mommy," the small, echoey voices whispered. The figures moved down the stairs, and Dean realized with a pang, they were a boy and a girl, close in age, like Cara and Noah.

Constance backed up a few paces, horrified her children. But before she would disappear, both children lunged at her, grabbing her. There was a magnificent flash of purple electricity as she screamed and her children cried. Like water melting from ice, the three apparitions trickled into the ground.

The dresser fell away and Dean, eyes fixed woodenly on the spot walked towards it. "So...this is where she drowned her kids." He had felt sympathy for this woman, but Dean decided he wasn't like her. She had ended her own children's lives. It didn't matter that her husband had cheated on her. What she had done was far worse.

Sam came and stood next to Dean. "So that's why she could never come home. She was scared to face them."

"Good riddance, I say." Dean spat on the spot of the floor where they had disappeared.

"Dean."

"Huh?"

"Look man, I'm sorry about what I said on the bridge about Mom. And about you. It was uncalled for-"

"No chick flick moments."

"Right okay. What were you doing shooting Caspar in the face you freak?"

Dean wrenched his gaze away from the spot on the floor. "Saved your ass didn't it?" He walked over to the Impala and peered inside. "I'll tell you one thing: if you screwed up my car, I'll kill you."

The ride back to Stanford was a mixture of tenseness and bittersweetness. Dean had tried to convince Sam to go to Blackwater Ridge, Colorado. The numbers John had left them had been coordinates for that location. But Sam had declined, citing the law school interview. After that, they drove the rest of the way in silence.

A few hours later, Dean pulled up to Sam's apartment building. The two sat in silence for a moment. "You'll call me if you find him?"

"Sure thing," Dean said. He stared ahead, thinking about how now was his last chance to tell Sam about Alice and the kids.

"Maybe we can meet up later?" Sam asked.

"Sounds good."

"Okay well, I'll see you around." Sam exited the Impala and retrieved his duffel from the backseat. He waved to Dean before walking up the path.

Dean rolled down the window, calling after his brother. "Hey Sam?" Remember Alice Mercer from that farm town in Nebraska? The one you told we were leaving? Well, we have two kids together. I have a daughter named Cara and a son named Noah. They're ten and eight. And when I went on all those solo hunts, I was actually visiting her.

"Yeah Dean?"

Dean hesitated. He couldn't uproot Sam's life like that. Sam had a girlfriend he loved and a future. Dean didn't want to jeopardize that. "We made a hell of a team back there."

Sam gave a small smile. "Yeah, we did. I'll see you around, Dean."

"See you around."

Dean rolled up the window leisurely rolled away from the curb. Now hadn't been the right time to tell Sam. He didn't know when it would be, but he knew he wanted Sam to know his niece and nephew.

With a satisfied smile, Dean went to change the radio station, only to see the needle changing frequencies spastically. He noticed the clock on the dashboard was frozen, as well as his watch.

"Sam," he muttered. He swerved around and raced back towards the apartment, only to see the entire building engulfed in flames. Without a second thought, Dean was out of the Impala, pounding up the steps, kicking in the door to Sam's apartment, all while calling his name. Coughing and follow the trail of smoke that was concentrated most strongly in the bedroom, Dean burst in, aghast at the sight.

Sam was laying on the bed, arms covering his head yelling Jess' name over and over. Jess, was on the ceiling, on fire, splayed out, exactly like Mary Winchester.

Seeing the flames were licking their ways down the walls, Dean forcefully grabbed Sam and shoved him out of the room, Sam resisting the entire way, yelling after his girlfriend. It took all of Dean's strength to get Sam out of the building, and even then, he was inconsolable. He kept trying to dart past Dean, who never seen Sam so crazed. During one of the instances when Sam was trying to wrestle past Dean, where was a low rumbling sound and there was an explosion, that popped all the windows, and blew fire out of the opening. The firefighters increased their pressure hoses, while the cops were pushing people back.

That explosion caused Sam to stop cold. He dropped his arms that were trying to shove past Dean and there was a deep sob that came somewhere deep within him. Sam's vision started to blur. His knees buckled and Dean grabbed the front of his shirt as Sam lost his balance. His eyes fluttered like he was going to pass out. "Hey, Sammy, come on, stay with me."

Shaking, Sam's hands feebly grabbed at Dean's wrists. His eyes darted around unfocused, like a blind man trying to pinpoint a distant sound. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"She's gone."

Dean was silent. There was nothing he could say.

"Just like Mom." Dean swallowed the feeling of sadness.

"Why do we get you checked out by the paramedics, huh?"

"I'm fine." Sam suddenly regained his footing, stepping away from his brother.

Dean shook his head and pointed to Sam's right arm. The sleeve had been burned off and his skin was red and blistery below that. "You're not fine."

Sam frowned, looking down at his arm. That couldn't be his arm. He didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything.

"Come on. Humor me."

"Okay." Sam nodded and stumbled towards the paramedics.

"I'll be here," Dean called. Rubbing his sweating face with one hand, he grabbed his phone and speed dialed Alice.

"Hello?"

"Hey it's me."

"How are you? Have you found your dad yet?"

"No. Not yet."

There was silence. "Are you okay? Dean, are you okay? Are those police sirens in the background?"

"Yeah uh...I got Sam to help me look for Dad over the weekend-"

"You talked to your brother? That's great!"

"Allie wait."

"What's wrong?"

"I dropped Sam off at his apartment and...there was a fire."

"Oh my God. Is Sam okay? Are you okay?"

"We're alive, but Allie...Sam had a girlfriend. Jess. I met her. She was really nice. She didn't make it."

"Sam's girlfriend died in the fire?"

Dean swallowed. "Yeah."

"Good Lord. That's terrible. Is Sam…"

Dean looked over at the ambulance Sam was sitting in. An EMT was busy wrapping his burn up in gauze. "He's...I don't know. Can't really say anything about this."

"That's horrible. What's he gonna do now?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to talk to you, needed to hear your voice. I'll call you in a few days when we figure everything out, okay?"

"Sure, Dean. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye.

"Bye."

Pocketing his phone, Dean looked up and saw Sam opening the trunk of the Impala. Dean walked over, noticing how solemn Sam looked. His upper arm was bandaged in white and he had a stony expression on his face. He was cocking and uncocking a sawed off shotgun.

Wary, Dean went to stand by him, but didn't say anything. Noticing the look Dean was giving him, Sam determinedly dropped the weapon into the trunk.

"We got work to do," Sam said with finality, slamming the trunk shut.

Happy New Year! We are officially canon guys! Sorry it took awhile to get it out but this chapter was harder to write than I thought! I promise the next one will be out sooner.

I just want to say, obviously this is a fanfic and I don't own anything, but I just want to acknowledge some of the dialogue is directly from the show.

And as usual, thank you to everything who reads, reviews, likes, favorites, etc!

Lastly, I was originally going to split each section of this story into a different fic, but I am considering keeping it all in one story and just marking which section ends where. Let me know what you guys think: if you want a really long fic or a couple shorter ones?

Thanks guys!