Thanks for the reviews.

Here's another quick update.

Enjoy!

The room grew cold and Jorie shivered. A bright light came out of nowhere almost blinding her. Jorie blinked her eyes and held up a hand to block the light. Mac crossed the floor and picked her up, enveloping her in a hug.

"Oh, gawd, Jorie. It really is you."

Jorie tensed at first and then the overpowering smell of Irish Spring and gun powder engulfed her and she melted into his embrace. Was this real?

"Daddy," she whimpered, hiding her face in his chest and feeling the security of his strong arms around her, one hand rubbing up and down on her back.

"It's me, baby girl." Mac hugged her so tightly that Jorie gasped for air. "Thank God you're safe."

Jorie lifted her head to see the rest of the room was empty. She blinked and looked around but saw nothingness. Everywhere she looked was glowing white but there was nothing. Just emptiness. Like an empty cartoon panel.

"Daddy…"

Mac hushed her again. "You need to listen to me, baby. I haven't got much time…"

"But daddy, you have to wake up…the Jargeru is going to steal your soul and you'll never wake up…you have to believe me." Tears streamed down her cheeks. In desperation, Jorie picked up his hand to make him feel the back of her head. "See, Sammy stitched me up. You didn't know that, Daddy, so you can't dream about it…"

"Jorie, honey, listen to me! I don't have much time. I was able to break through but I'm fading fast."

Jorie blinked and looked into her father's dark brown eyes so much like her own.

"Keep following John. He's the key…"

"Daddy, he's mean to Dean and Sammy. He hit Dean with a belt…"

"Those are just memories from the past, honey. It's not real. Follow John. You can trust him. He will get you out of this dream…"

"I can't leave without you, daddy!" Jorie whined, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Mac hugged her tighter. "You have too! When you wake up, come find me."

Jorie shook her head. "But I don't know where you are, daddy."

"John knows, honey. Follow him..."

Jorie trembled all over as Mac set her to her feet. Jorie clung to him but he pulled her hands away and turned away from her. "No, Daddy!" Jorie screamed.

Jorie felt a hand on her shoulder spinning her around. She struggled to escape the hand but was picked off her feet and tossed over a shoulder.

"Jorie, that's enough." The voice was familiar but Jorie couldn't pin it down. She stopped struggling and looked to see none other than John Winchester holding her in his arms. She froze. She was in the arms of the monster that had belted Dean. "Are finished this tantrum of yours?" John asked firmly.

Jorie swallowed. Tantrum? She'd had a tantrum? The sound of Dean getting whipped still echoed in her ears so she nodded.

"I can't hear your brain rattling."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." John set her down and crouched to her level, shaking a finger in her face "Now, I want you to walk back in the kitchen and apologize to Dean. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

Tears blurred her vision. She felt like she was riding on a bungee cord of emotions…being yanked in and out of different realities and she was lost. She didn't know what was up or down; what was she supposed to apologize for?

John rose to his feet and took her hand in his, leading her back inside the house. But whose house she didn't know. They weren't at Bobby's anymore. Jorie looked around the front foyer of the house as they entered. It was decorated so daintily with pretty bouquets everywhere. Beautiful paintings adorned the wall; all signs pointing to what Jorie thought were a woman's touch, and so unlike Bobby's house which was mainly wreathed in old dust, dirt and grime as well as books and weapons.

"Marjorie Spencer!" A mature female voice said with disdain. "Such display is unbecoming of a young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Jorie chewed the inside of her cheek as John all but dragged her towards the daunting woman. The older blonde woman glared at her reproachfully and clucked her tongue.

"Simmer down. I handled it, Marjie." John soothed, his thumb gently rubbing the back of Jorie's hand. "Things got heated and Dean's not completely innocent. He was teasing her."

"That boy of yours!" The woman ground out. "He ought to know better than that. Where's Mackenzie?"

John stopped and lifted Jorie into his arms, setting her onto his hip with ease. Jorie stiffened but his gentle hand rubbed her back helping her relax. She felt conflicted and jarred. This John seemed different, less scary, maybe even kind.

"He's coming." Again a voice of calm assurance and knowledge.

John walked with Jorie following the grouchy woman towards a doorway that opened up into a spectacular dining room. Jorie's eyes widened at the sight. It was a beautifully ornate room, complete with a huge harvest table that could seat 12 people. Currently, only two other people sat at the table, Sam and Dean. The buffet table to the left of the room was filled with decadent foods that smelled wonderful. Jorie's stomach rumbled in anticipation. She'd emptied the contents of her stomach in another reality. She couldn't even remember how long that was ago but she was hungry now.

John chuckled as he set Jorie down in front of Dean's chair. "I guess you're hungry now, huh? Temper tantrums have a way of doing that to a person." John set a hand on top of her head and nodded in Dean's direction. "Got something to say to Dean?"

Jorie cleared her throat. "I'm…uh…I'm sorry, Dean."

"It's all good, Squirt."

John smacked Dean in the back of the head. "Stop torturing the kid, Dean. She's not Sammy."

Sam looked up and scowled. "Hey! So it's okay to torture me?"

Dean rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. "Teasing you is a sport, Sammy."

John smacked Dean again.

"Ow. Geez, dad. Cut it out!"

"You heard me," John said sternly before rounding the table and taking his spot at the head.

"Come on, Jorie, I'll help you get something to eat," Sam said, standing up and walking towards her with a kind expression on his face.

Jorie took a glance at Dean's arm as he rubbed the back of his head. No scar. She fisted her hands together in dismay. Dream Dean again. It was getting hard to keep things straight. She looked up at Sam as he waved at her to come to the buffet table. She had no way to know if Sam was real or not. Her lower lip quivered. She felt exhausted and she wished she'd never heard of dream root tea.

Sam picked up a plate and looked down at her. "What do you feel like?"

Jorie looked at all the food and couldn't help noticing the large bowl of strawberries. Again with the strawberries. It seemed to be becoming a theme in every dream sequence she landed in. Was the Jargeru trying to kill her?

Sam noticed her glance at the strawberries and frowned. "Aren't you allergic?"

Jorie looked at him. "Sammy?"

He nodded with a gentle smile.

Jorie didn't know what to think. Her father knew she was allergic to strawberries yet in every dream sequence he didn't. Sam and Dean had said that her father could only dream about things he knew about. Jorie felt her head swimming again. There was one thing she could do to know if it was Sam or not. She could try and compel him. Only the real Sammy knew she could do it. And only the real Sammy would be opposed to it.

"I'll take the ham and cheese sandwich and some carrots," she said. She watched as Sam grabbed a sandwich and some vegetables and put them on her plate. Get me some cherry tomatoes too. Jorie looked at Sam as he stopped and looked over the banquet table and then back at her.

He frowned at her and leaned in close so only she could hear his words. "It's really me, Jorie."

Jorie took the plate and squirmed under his scrutiny.

Meet me upstairs, Sam.

Sam narrowed his eyes at her "Knock it off!" he whispered, his dimples dancing unhappily in his cheeks.

Jorie swallowed. It was her Sammy alright.

Jorie walked back to the table and set her plate down not knowing how to proceed. Should she excuse herself or make up a reason why she was leaving? If she was with her dad, she'd just tell him where she was going. If she was at Bobby's, she'd have just left the room without saying anything.

Jorie cleared her throat and looked at John. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

The older woman looked up with a scandalized look flooding her face. "Jorie! For heaven's sake! You know better than that! What has gotten into to you today? Just excuse yourself, child. No one needs to know why." The woman dabbed her face with her napkin. "Off with you and don't bother returning until you can find your common sense." She looked at John and apologized before returning her glare on Jorie.

"Now, Marjie, there's no need for such formalities," John said softly.

"Maybe you're raising your boys to be wild hooligans, John Winchester but I certainly am not."

The woman's voice trailed off as Jorie grabbed her plate and stormed from the room. Whoever Marjie was, Jorie did not like her at all. Once out into the hallway, Jorie took the large wooden staircase up to the upper floor of the elegant house. Her eyes were large as she took in her surroundings. This Marjorie was one wealthy woman.

Jorie stopped when she reached the top to gape at the large painting that hung on the wall directly above the top of the stairs. It was a family portrait with a younger version of the woman Marjorie seated in a large oversized chair, a tall dark-haired, attractive man was standing to her right and a small little boy stood in front of the woman. All three were smiling brightly.

"I think that boy is your dad," a voice said from behind her. Jorie jumped and spun on her heel nearly upsetting her plate of food. Sam reached out and steadied her hand and frowned at her. "What'd I tell you about messing around in my mind?"

Jorie chewed her lip and shrugged sheepishly. "I had to know it was you."

Sam smirked and Jorie flung herself into his arms, her plate and sandwich falling to the floor. "It is you, Sammy." Sam stroked her head. "Where did you go? I walked into the kitchen and you disappeared. I didn't let go of your hand…" Jorie felt tears burning her eyes again and she choked back a sob.

"As soon as I lost sight of you, you disappeared."

"I saw Dean," Jorie said, her voice muffled in Sam's shirt.

"Our Dean?"

Jorie nodded into his chest.

Sam pulled her away from him and cupped her face with his hand. "Where?"

Jorie didn't know where to start or what to say. Tears escaped down her cheek as she blinked her eyes. She wasn't sure how much more flip-flopping she could take before she started to lose her grip on what was real and what wasn't. She wanted to tell Sam about everything but she feared he would be mad that she manipulated Dean and the dream Bobby.

Sam looked her up and down and wiped at her tears with his thumb. "You're a brave girl, Jorie. I know this is scary but you're safe now. The more we are here, the more we find out how things work."

Jorie nodded. That much was right. They kept finding out what they could control and what they couldn't. That was good information, and that remained the same no matter what dream sequence they landed in. The real Dean had the scar. Dream Dean did not. The real Sam knew she was allergic to strawberries and all the dream sequences had strawberries.

"Daddy knows we're in his dreams!" Jorie blurted out.

Sam's forehead creased. He looked around and pulled her into the closest room, shutting the door behind them. Jorie looked around to see a large king-sized canopy bed. Tapestries adorned the walls. The room looked like something out of a medieval castle. A large armoured knight statue stood sentry in the far corner of the room.

Sam sat down and pulled Jorie in close. "How do you know?"

Jorie swallowed and did her best to describe her memory of the event with Mac. Sam frowned as he listened and took in everything Jorie told him.

"My dad is the key?" Sam repeated her words slowly, mulling them over.

Jorie nodded.

"But that doesn't make any sense. My dad is dead. He can't be anything but a dream version of himself. He can't be real. How can he be the key to anything?"

Tears welled in Jorie's eyes once again. "Why did your dad hurt Dean!" Jorie cried. "Dean said he thinks he hurt you too but you never told him for sure."

"What?" Sam said, looking confused. "How did my dad hurt Dean? What are talking about?"

"Flagstaff. Dean called it Flagstaff. What does that mean?"

Sam paled and sat back a little. "Uh, it was a dumb thing I did when I was a kid," he explained, scrubbing a hand over his face. "My dad was on a hunt and I had a giant size chip on my shoulder." Sam sighed and shook his head. "My dad and I fought a lot. I took off to get even."

"Did you know that your dad blamed Dean?" Jorie closed her eyes to try and clear the tears as she remembered the sound of John hitting Dean. "He's a very bad man! Why would my daddy dream about him hitting Dean?"

Sam stood up and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Gawd," he mumbled, pacing a little and turned to look at Jorie's traumatized face. "You saw that?"

"No. Dean made me hide my face but I could still hear it." Tears cascaded down her cheeks. "Dean could hardly sit but I helped take the pain away…" Jorie froze and covered her mouth. She hadn't meant to let that information slip out. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Please don't be mad!

Sam grabbed his head and groaned. "Stop that! Use your voice if you want to talk to me and stay out of my head!" Sam massaged his temples and glared at her. "You manipulated Dean?"

"No! I helped him!" she snapped, feeling angry at Sam for being mad at her.

Sam relented and rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the floor. "How can my dad be the key to anything? It makes no sense. To be honest, I thought maybe the Jargeru was using my dad's presence to manipulate us and throw us off." Sam closed his eyes for a minute and then opened them wide. "Maybe we've been looking at this all wrong."

Jorie wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. She was getting tired of the emotional roller coaster. "How do you mean?"

Sam looked at her and then shook his head. "It's better you don't know."

"Wait, what?" Jorie felt her anger bubble up.

Sam raised a hand. "Look, you shouldn't even be here, Jorie. I'm going to find a way to wake your dad. He wants you out as much as Dean and I do. We can't do our job when we're constantly worried about you."

Jorie stomped her foot. "My dad told me what was going on, not you!"

"I think he's having a rough time distinguishing what's going on in his head too. Having you here obviously shook him up enough to gain some awareness of things for a minute."

"If you send me back, I'll drink more tea and come right back," Jorie promised.

Sam puffed out his cheeks and considered the small powerhouse of a kid in front of him. "So much like your dad…" he muttered. He shook his head. "Look around you, Jorie. This dream is the nuttiest ride we've ever been on…I can't tell what will happen next or who will come in to play. Your dad has a past neither of us knows about."

"You said you only spent a year together." Jorie challenged.

"I only spent a year with Mac but your dad has a history with mine and with Dean. Hell, there's a lot I don't even know. Dean doesn't talk much about the times he and dad went off on hunts together. I stayed with Bobby quite a bit because my dad and I fought a lot and it was just simpler for everyone when I wasn't around. You shouldn't see it, Jore. It's not pretty. Times were different back then."

Jorie shivered. She didn't understand what Sam was telling her but the foreboding tone of his voice sent chills up and down her spine. What kind of things happened between John and her dad? Jorie felt her temper flare and she ran up to Sam punching him square in the gut.

"What the hell…?" Sam gasped, grabbing her small fisted hand to stop her from hitting him again.

"You don't get to decide what's right for me, Sam Winchester. This is my dad's dream. I get some say." She stomped her foot and yanked her hand away, covering her face to calm down. She wasn't going to cry anymore. All she'd done is cry and it was getting her nowhere.

I'm not going to cry! I won't cry!

Sam grabbed at his head and groaned. "Stop doing that!" he ground out. He reached out and grasped her by her forearms, glaring at her sternly. "Look, it doesn't matter where I am in this dream, I can feel it every time you do that. It messes with my head and I can't think straight. You need to stop." He shook her for emphasis.

"I was talking to myself!" she snapped, trying to get free but Sam held her tightly.

"No more, Jorie. I mean it!" He shook her firmly.

Just then the door swung open and John stood in the doorway with a frown. "What's going on, Sammy?"

Sam stood to his full height once again. "Dad."

UH OH, John Winchester is in the house.

Any guesses on how John is the key to everything?

Sam thought he'd figured it out but now he's unsure.

Stay tuned for more...remember this is non-cannon so anything goes, folks. :)