Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, but by golly it would be a blast to just rent the men from supernatural for an evening or two wouldn't it! Just think of the stories I could write with that kind of incentive!

Hunted

John Winchester is hunted by more then just demons.

Chapter fourteen

When John arrived in Palo Alto he went straight to the apartment Sammy had shared with Jessica. He knew where it was because he'd been there before on more then one occasion. Many times in the past he had parked his truck outside his son's apartment and watched to be sure his son was safe. He had done the same thing when Sam was in the dorm during his freshman and junior years too and it was a good thing.

A few months after Sam had started classes at Stanford John had heard of several accidents in the same dorm his son occupied. After looking into the problem John had discovered it was the malevolent spirit of a professor that had been accidentally killed by a student. Sam had been so focused on his studies that he didn't even realize there was a problem. His youngest son was like that. Once he started something he put everything into what he was doing and often neglected the other things that were happening around him. John had taken care of the spirit with Sam none the wiser.

Sam's old apartment building was still standing, though a condemned sign was posted on the door. That was a good thing for John. It meant it was unoccupied and he would be able to look around freely. He steeled himself for the onslaught of emotion he knew was going to strike when he entered the building, but nothing could prepare him for what he was about to do. He knew what he would find inside, but he still had to go in. He had to be sure.

He entered the apartment and his breath caught in throat and for a moment he couldn't breathe. Seeing everything burned to ashes and that smell. Oh God the smell that still permeated the room it struck him like a ton of bricks. He struggled to gain control over his emotions. Sorrow, despair, fear, and anger raced through him as he stood in the entryway afraid, to go further, but knowing he had no choice. He had no idea how long it took, but finally he was able to stifle his anxieties and move into the room.

The apartment was still littered with many of the burned or ruined personal items of Sammy and Jessica. Furniture lay broken and tossed around by the firemen. A bike broken and partially melted lay on the floor. Clothes, textbooks, dishes and other things were strewn about the living and kitchen areas. Something on the floor caught his attention and he reached down and picked it up. It was a partially burned picture of him with his arms wrapped around Mary. Between the fire and the water damage the picture was in bad shape, but John brushed it off and put it in his pocket.

He sighed and continued his tour of the apartment. The fire had devastated the bedroom. There was also damage to most of the living area and parts of the kitchen. Theirs had been the top floor apartment and parts of the roof were missing where they'd been burned away or cut open by the firefighters. If John had not already been aware of what he would find he would have been surprised to find little to no damage to the floor of the apartment. He knew the fire was based at the ceiling where Jessica had been pinned above the bed.

John could picture the scene in his head with such clarity even though he hadn't been here. Jessica pinned silently to the ceiling her hair spread out around her head like a halo and her stomach sliced open. Blood would have dripped on to his son as though in some horrible form of baptism. Then suddenly, without warning, she would have burst into flames. Flames that took on a life of their own and chased away anyone who came to help her. He had seen it before. The scene was the same the place and time were all that had changed.

John left the apartment and returned to the truck. His hands were shaking as he reached for and held the steering wheel to stop them. "I'm sorry Sammy," he whispered as put the truck in gear and drove away.

His next stop was the police department where John, in the guise of an FBI agent, received a copy of the official report on the fire. They didn't find anything. No fingerprints, no DNA, no blood, nothing at all no sign of anyone else in the apartment. They determined the fire was caused by an electrical short in the ceiling and with no other evidence to the contrary the case had been determined an accident and closed. John, however, knew it was no accident. He knew what had killed Jessica and the demon was going to pay for what it was putting his son through. John would make sure of it.

His next chore was pretty much useless and he knew it, but it still needed to be done. He began canvassing the neighborhood around Sam's apartment. A normally difficult task made that much more so by the fact that this was a college town and many of the residents had already returned home in anticipation of the coming holidays. He spent two days talking to Sam's friends and neighbors. No one had seen anything suspicious. No one knew anything. Everyone said the same thing. Just what he had suspected.

The cattle all died the exact same way as those that had died in Arizona. Hearts ripped from their chests as they stood still with no blood spilled on or around the carcasses. Six cattle had been mutilated on the day of an electrical storm that brought no rain. Just as they had in Arizona.

John was through here. There was nothing more he could do in Palo Alto, but he had one more stop to make before he left.

The cemetery was quiet. There were a few people visiting graves but no one in the area where he found hers. She had a large headstone with her picture sealed into the stone with a glass cap. She was beautiful so much like Mary it was frightening. Her headstone read:

Jessica Lee Moore
Beloved Daughter
January 24, 1983 – November 2, 2005

And for the first time John was struck with the fact that Mary and Jessica had died on the same day. For some reason even though he knew it was true it had not sunk in, but now, seeing it written in stone. He knew it was important. It was something else he needed to look into, though he could do that from anywhere.

He knelt down next to the gravestone and wiped away a few dead leaves that had fallen on it. He tried to speak, choked, and tried again. "Sweetheart, you and I we… um we've never met, not really and I'm sorry for that. I saw you though, several times." John said quietly to her picture. "Sammy, he's my son, he really liked you. I think he was even going to ask you to marry him. I would have liked that. Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you and I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I should have been."

"He was you know," said a voice from behind him. "He was going to ask her to marry him on New Years Day. He already had the rings."

John stood and turned to face the speaker. He knew the kid, even though they'd never been introduced. It was Sam's old roommate. The one he'd shared a dorm with for the first two years of school. John couldn't answer. He just nodded his head.

"You're Sam's dad. Where is he? We've all been worried about him."

"I don't know, but he's with his brother."

The young man nodded and said, "You should be with him, he needs you now. I know you two had your differences. He never really spoke about you, but he had a picture of you on the night stand in the dorm. He looked at it all the time. I think the picture gave him some kind of solace… and strength; especially when he was down." The young man stopped for a second then said, "Anyway, when you see him tell him to call will ya?"

Before John could reply the boy walked away leaving John staring after him.

A/N Please read and review and thanks again for all the wonderful comments!