A/N: Yay, next update, and this one is a little longer. My mom is still in the hospital, but she's doing pretty good, so things could be much worse. Thanks everyone for all the reviews, and well wishes, you guys are amazing! So, everyone loves Missouri, so I gave her a pretty big voice in this chapter, along with a little last minute awesome Sam. And Dean, still determined not to give up on his brother. Love my boys so so much.

All right, I'm home, all night, my son has been set up with a movie and popcorn and I have a super size soda, so I am locked, loaded and caffeinated. Think I might push for an early morning update to Tuesday's child tomorrow, so everyone hold their breath. The outline is finally feeling solid, I haven't got a chance to pull a six hour slam on it yet like I did with this story to get it on steady feet, but I think I can pull off chapter three without wrecking it, lol. So if you guys haven't read the first two chapters, swing over and get up to speed, because I have such a good feeling about that story. Earlier today, Prisoner of War updated also, so if you haven't read that yet, there's another option for your Saturday night.

Reviews Are LOVE!

As Always,

EverReader

Disclaimer: Not my sandbox

Trigger Warning: Enough curse words that Missouri chased me around with a wooden spoon for bad language. I blame Dean.

All The Pretty Monsters – Chapter Twenty-Six

"Never Underestimate A Survivor"

Dean climbed inside the Impala, slamming the door behind him in exasperation.

Another dead end.

Opening his phone, he speed dialed John, the way he had every hour or so since Sam and Ava's little revelation. When John, (to Dean's complete unsurprise) failed to answer, Dean pushed the disconnect button viciously, and then dialed Bobby.

Bobby answered on the first ring, and Dean wondered if the older hunter was as unsettled by the recent events as Dean was.

"Dean, what have you found?" Bobby asked impatiently.

"Nothing but a lot of headstones." Dean replied sourly.

"Come again?" Bobby said in confusion.

"Everyone's dead." Dean elaborated. "At least, every one who ever knew Mom. Her friends, her book club, hell, even the doctor who delivered Sam. She was a Lawrence native, it was Dad who moved here after the war, and I can't even find anyone who even knew her family."

"You think that's a coincidence?" Bobby asked.

"I doubt that, since one of her friends was a cardiologist who died of a heart attack. Hard to believe he missed the symptoms." Dean snarked.

"Shit." Bobby cursed. "Well, that all lends credence to the idea of hunters and demon interference. Hunters are a close mouthed bunch, your Mom's family probably wouldn't have had many close friends. And if the demons were trying to cover their tracks, they might have gone through and killed off any loose ends. What did Missouri have to say?"

Dean hesitated. "Well, I haven't exactly been to see her yet." He said slowly.

"Well, why the hell not, ya idjit?" Bobby asked in exasperation.

Dean sighed. "You said she's a freaking psychic, Bobby. Worst case scenario, she's a fake and a fraud, almost all of them are. Even if she's legit, that means she's flaky as hell, and I'm tired of this hoodoo-voodoo talking in riddles crap. I need real information, Bobby. Facts."

Bobby made a choked sound of exasperation. "You idjit. You'd better get your ass over to Missouri's and pray she doesn't know you just called her a flake or she'll whack the shit outta you with a wooden spoon. Balls! Dean, stop playing, you're not down there for fun. Get to work." With that the line went dead and Dean found himself staring at it in consternation.

"Whack me with a wooden spoon?" He muttered, shaking his head as he started the car and headed over to the address Bobby had given him.

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Ruby sat at the table, casually painting her names a deep, bloody red.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Gordon barked as he let himself into the apartment he was using as a base this week.

She looked up at him. "Waiting for you to remove your head from your ass." She replied archly, blowing on her nails to dry them.

He scowled. "I already told you, you stupid bitch, I ain't helping you with nothing. You want Sam Winchester dead and I'm all on board with that, just give me a location and I'll have his head on a stick for you by morning."

She rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to say it? Sam Winchester could turn you inside out with one hand tied behind his back. He's a demon, a powerful one, trained by one scary ass motherfucker to be even scarier. You have to train with me if you want to have an ice cube's chance in hell of taking him down. And if you don't, the world freaking ends, so get with the damn program already."

He stomped over to her. "If I'm so 'righteous', then why the hell do I have to train?"

She stood, looking up at him fearlessly. "Because your enemy spent the better part of a century training to rip organs out with flair and style."

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Max looked up as Lily entered the room. He held up the two journals for her perusal. From the hall, they could hear the sound of a scuffle, and Max assumed Jake was playing with his food.

She took one of the books from Max, flipping it open and wrinkling her nose at the dust that flew up from the pages.

She paged through it for a moment, before looking up at Max excitedly.

"The demon at the last nest was right. These journals belonged to Samuel Colt." She said.

She watched him for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, you're right. We should send them to Andy. He and Sam will have the time to go through them, while we go back to the vampires. I caught word of a nest down in the black hills. Random people been going missing for decades now."

Max nodded, and she tucked the journals into the leather bag she had slung over her shoulder.

"I'm hungry." She announced as they went out the door and Max smiled.

Looks like they were hitting one more nest for the road.

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Missouri wrenched open her front door in a huff before Dean even had a chance to ring the bell. Without preamble, she reached out, smacking the backside of Dean's head.

"That's for calling me a flake." She scolded, turning around and heading back inside without another word.

"What the h-" Dean started to say, but she cut him off.

"Watch you language in my house, Dean Winchester, your Daddy did a lot of wrong by you, but I know he taught you that." She called out from the kitchen as Dean stepped into her living room.

"Crazy." Dean muttered as she came back in with two glasses of iced tea and shoved one into Dean's hands. "Wait, so you know my father?" He asked.

"'Course I do, boy. I know you too, and your brother. Met you when you were real little, but you probably don't remember." She said, shaking her head. "Horrible thing, what happened to your mother, but she opened the door when she made a deal with that demon. Didn't feel she had a choice, with her parents dead and your daddy murdered, but it set a terrible chain of events in motion." She sighed, sitting down.

Dean leaned forward, tea ignored on the table as he focused on Missouri. "Wait, start at the beginning, I need to know everything."

She took a sip. "Well, you grew up better looking than I thought you would, anyway. You were a funny looking kid. Dean, your brother told you what happened."

Dean swallowed. "I...don't know if I can trust his information." He hedged.

She arched a brow. "Because Sam's a demon? Son, you better learn, the most dangerous monsters don't have to lie, the truths too much for most people as it is. Look, your Daddy came to me after your mother died. He'd seen something, something unnatural. He had trouble believing his own eyes, but he was born with a hunter's instincts, so he came to me. You might say I put him through supernatural boot camp, so to speak. I drew aside the curtain."

Dean rubbed his face. "So, Sam wasn't lying when he said we were legacy hunters, that Mom had been one too? And Dad's Dad had been some kind of, what, supernatural librarian?"

She shook her head. "I've heard whispers of the Men of Letters, but as far as I know, they all died out years ago. The psychic who trained me said she had worked with them once or twice in her youth, before she lost contact with them. They always contacted her, not the other way around. Now, as far as your mother goes, that I do know. Your mother was a Campbell, and they're an old, old line. There's branches all over now, but they're pretty scattered. Your grandaddy, that's on your mama's side, that is, was named Samuel too, just like your brother, and he acted as an unofficial head of the family, keeping track of the branches. When he was killed, your mother turned her back on hunting, and most of the branches lost track of each other. But first, your mama made a deal. It seemed innocent, at the time, but it was the key that monster needed to get to your little brother."

Dean nodded, swallowing hard. "What do you know about Sam?"

She sighed, looking away. "I know he's a demon, of sorts, I suppose. The spirits don't really seem to know what to make of him. But everyone's looking for him, and in the meantime, he's searching for something big. He's got a plan, but I don't know what it is, Dean."

Dean scowled. "Well then, get out your Oujia Board and get ghost whispering already."

She raised a hand at him threateningly. "Don't you use that tone with me, boy. It ain't as easy as all that. Like I warned your Daddy years ago, that demon's had an eye on your brother his whole life, and then he dragged him to hell. Boy knows how to cover his tracks. Half the spirits are afraid of him, and the other half are rooting for him."

Dean felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "Dad knew a demon was after Sam?" He asked in a choked voice.

She sighed. "Your Daddy took me to your old house, to Sam's nursery. I could feel the events, an echo, you might say, or what had happened, but it was so violent, so dark. But it only took one look at your brother to know the demon had marked him. I warned your Daddy, which is why he took you with him, I suppose. But then, when they took Sam to hell..." She trailed off, shaking her head with a scowl.

Dean's entire world narrowed down to the woman in front of him at that moment. "Dad...Dad knew Sam was in Hell, didn't he? That's why he wanted me to stop looking."

She pressed her lips together, finally nodding. "It took me a while to piece it together, but finally I tracked down a spirit of a person killed at the library that night. The hounds took your brother, as if he'd made the deal and not your mama. They said he fought, Dean, like a tiger, but there was just too many. He tried to save the others in the library that night, but there were just too many and monsters like that don't know mercy. It was probably three or four years ago when I knew for sure. I told your Daddy, but by then he felt Sam was a lost cause, he'd been killed and in hell for so long."

Dean looked at her bleakly. "He wasn't dead."

Her mouth opened. "Excuse me?"

Dean swallowed. "That's why he and the other kids are special. The demons didn't kill them Just about every else but, but they never killed them. Sam was still alive, and he was trapped in hell."

She shook her head as a tear trailed down her cheek. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I had no idea. When I told your daddy, I thought he might try a summoning spell, so we could try and send Sam's soul to heaven."

Dean nodded grimly. "He must have already suspected by that point." He stood up, and took off his necklace, holding it out to her. "Sam had this last. I'm not sure why he took it, but I got it back. Can you use this to help the spirits find Sam? I feel like I'm chasing my tail here."

She looked at him doubtfully. "Dean, are you really sure you want to get involved in all this? You might be a hunter, but this is beyond anything you've ever dealt with. We're talking about the forces of hell, boy."

Dean looked at her squarely. "I hunted werewolves and black dogs while my kid brother was being tortured in Hell. He's been on his own long enough. Help me find Sam."

She nodded. "All right, but there's something I want in return. I need your help. I've kept an eye on your old house all these years, just in case. A powerful evil took place there."

Dean looked at her thoughtfully as he put his amulet back on. "You were watching for poltergeists?" He guessed.

She nodded. "Yes, and until a few weeks ago, it's been quiet. But something's stirred the house up now, whether it's your brother and that demon returning, I don't know. But a new family moved in a week ago. A sweet woman named Jenny and her two little kids. And whatever happened before, there's something dark there now. That family's in danger."

Missouri closed the door thoughtfully behind Dean as he left. She had debated telling him all that she did, but the poor boy had been lied to and deceived more than enough in his short life. She hadn't had the heart to hold anything back.

Had she not been so distracted, she would have noticed the dark presence sooner. But Dean's pain and confusion had been loud and rather distracting, so it was almost too late when she sensed the intruder.

Eyes widening in fear, she lunged for her altar and the Holy Water she kept there, even as an iron grip closed on her arm.

The man was large, beefy and burly, but Missouri was no light weight herself, and she put up a fight. The coffee table was knocked over in the scuffle, as was a lamp near the door. The demon finally managed to get a hand wrapped around her throat, however.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." The demon breathed into her ear, chuckling. "The boss didn't send me here to kill you. He has good use for someone with your...talents."

Eyes widening in fear, she renewed her struggles, knowing she was better off dead than going with this monster.

Suddenly, the man's head was jerked to the side as strong hands snapped his neck neatly. The body sagged immediately, and Missouri choked in a gasp of air as she slid down the wall, watching with wide eyes as the tall man stood over the body of her attacker. Smoke was already starting to boil out of the body's mouth, but the tall man started chanting, rapid fire Latin too fast for Missouri to follow, but the cadence and rhythm told her that it was old, old magic.

In front of her disbelieving eyes, the demon's soul darkened, turning the rusty color of dried blood before disappearing in a crackle of dark energy.

She jerked back in fear when a hand suddenly appeared in front of her, but she reminded herself that her grandmother had raised her to be made of sterner stuff than that.

Taking Sam's hand, she allowed him to lift her to her feet.

"Well, you came out almost too good looking, all things considered, just like your brother." She said, brushing herself off with shaking hands.

He grinned a quicksilver, one sided grin at her. "Thank you, I think. I'd say it's safe to assume Azazel knows who and what you are now."

She arched an unamused brow at him. "You think, honey? You Winchesters have been nothing but trouble since the day John appeared on my door step with you wrapped in a blanket and Dean still with soot on his nose."

Sam tilted his head in silent acknowledgment and she took a moment to study him. Lord, but his brother was right.

Sam Winchester was most certainly a demon, and yet...he wasn't. Sam had a soul.

Demon's didn't have souls, they were souls who borrowed bodies. Sam was obviously something else.

"This place is no longer safe for you." Sam said calmly, as he walked over and ripped down one side of her curtains.

"Boy, what the heck are you doin'?" She scolded before remembering just who she was talking to.

He looked over at her, amused, as if he were the psychic one and he had read her mind. "Setting the scene. It would be preferable if no one knew I assisted you. You'll be less of a target that way."

She put her hands on her hips. "And just where is it I'm going?" She asked, piqued.

He glanced over at her as he knocked her bookshelf over, and she winced at the mess. "Anywhere you want. Anselm has cash. Just give him a destination and he'll get you there safely." He nodded at the other demon (who also, apparently, was a demon and yet wasn't, and the discrepancy was making her head hurt a little) who had just appeared in her doorway.

"I'm just supposed to take off, uproot my whole life and run away?" She asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it, Missouri?" Sam asked knowingly, and she snapped her mouth shut quickly, wondering how on earth the boy could have ever known just how many times her powers had driven her away from a place she'd come to call home.

He met her eyes for a moment. "Survivors have a look to them." He offered finally, and she nodded, because Lord knows, wasn't that the truth.

The most dangerous monsters always spoke the truth, hadn't she warned Dean?

"Your brother's looking for you. And your Daddy, though I wouldn't blame you if you skipped that reunion."

He grinned to himself as he methodically destroyed her living room. "Pack a couple of bags, whatever you can carry. Any pictures you take behind, I'll destroy, so take them if you want them. Once Azazel is dead, if you want to come back, that's your choice."

She shook her head. "One thing I've learned, never look back. You're not going that way."

He nodded in appreciation. "And that is why you should never underestimate a survivor. They know how dangerous they are."

She started to the stairs to pack. "Are you going to help your brother?" She asked.

He looked up at her. "Dean's fully capable of handling a poltergeist." He said dismissively.

She raised a brow of her own. "If your half the psychic I think you are, then you know that's not the only thing in that house."

Sam paused, and Missouri swore the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"That is probably a reunion I should skip also." He said finally in a cool voice.

She looked at him sadly. "Pity, because I'm fairly sure your the one she's waiting to see."

"Go, Missouri." He said without looking at her.

She swallowed, suddenly nervous but determined to ask. "Why are you helping me?" She challenged.

He glanced up, meeting her eyes with a solid stare, no trace of emotions of any sort. "You attempted to help, in your own way. And you were drawn into this because of John."

"You're a funny sort of demon, Sam Winchester." She said finally.

He nodded. "Never underestimate a survivor. We know exactly how dangerous we are." He repeated.