"This sounds like a Woman in White," Dean grumbled as he and Jack listened to Mac and Sam rapid-fire facts and stories they were uncovering back and forth across the small table where they sat, Mac with his tablet and Sam with his laptop.

Even though he'd spoken quietly, the both turned to glare at him almost simultaneously. "It's not."

He and Jack shared a look. "Your partner always like this?" Dean asked, with widened eyes.

Jack actually chuckled softly. "Usually. And I don't have to ask if Sam is always like this, because I know he always has been. Kid could do my college homework when he was ten. I don't think I remember ever seein' him without his nose in a book. That hasn't changed last time I saw you guys either."

Dean's expression became softer. "Yeah, Sammy's the brains of this outfit for sure." He glanced furtively at his cousin. "I've always been the muscle. And I've never much cared for havin' him on the front lines with me. I'd do just about anything to get him out of it most days. I'm guessin' you feel the same way about Mac. I guess I should apologize again for getting him involved without thinking, like I did."

Jack gave Dean a little half smile. "Dean … Stop. It's okay, man. You needed help. You reached out … Mac said Sam told him you guys are kind of cut off from … Whatever."

He paused when Dean's face went carefully blank at the near mention of any support system they might have had. He also remembered Mac telling him that Sam said something about Dean 'getting back' and Mac had an idea about from where Sam might have meant that made him quote want to refund a month of lunches end quote.

"And as far as not wanting Mac on the front lines of any fight … I may not like seein' him stick his neck out as much as he does, but to be fair, the actual front lines is where I met the kid, so it's not like I get to decide that for him. He doesn't want to leave. Believe me I tried to sort of encourage him back toward the airport, but he's a stubborn little shit …"

Dean snorted sympathetic laughter then. He'd said the same thing about his brother about a thousand times. "He must be pretty hard headed if he pulled himself away from a thrall … And that sure as hell sounds like what he did, Jack."

"Don't surprise me in the least," Jack said with the proud-dad grin Dean recognized. Not just because it was the one Jack Sr. always wore when he told anyone about his son, but because Dean often saw a similar look in the mirror when he thought about the stuff Sam had accomplished, about the good he did in the world.

There was a fine line between big brother and reluctant father figure, and Dean knew he frequently straddled that line in his relationship with Sammy. He'd also gathered from Cas that Jack was as close to family as Mac had. Not that the kid was alone in the world or anything, but because Jack was the one person who'd never let him down or made him feel like he'd let them down.

"I've never heard of this thing they think it is though, man," Dean said, sounding almost nervous. "And if it's got its hooks in Mac …"

"It doesn't have its hooks in him!" Jack said defensively. "You just said he broke a … whadayacallit … a thrall. That means it doesn't have him, right?" Jack went from defensive to apprehensive in a blink.

All of a sudden, Mac was sitting down next to him. "It doesn't have me, Jack. I told you, I'm fine."

Sam came over a few moments later, observing the silent conversation passing between the two men. Mac was sort of pleading with his partner to not freak out and Jack was begging with equal intensity for Mac to take this seriously and be careful. Sam hated to pique Jack's protective streak any more than it was, because he knew how damned irritating he found the same tendency in Dean, but he couldn't just let it ride. "He is, Jack. For now."

Mac glared at Sam with swift betrayed irritation. "We know what it is!" he snapped.

Sam looked away from Mac, sharing a quick look with Dean. Then his eyes were back on the newest initiate into the realm of the insane and hard to explain. And his very concerned partner. "That's why I'm worried, Mac."

Mac made a half dismissive gesture and turned toward Jack, tuning out Sam and Dean for the moment. "So, it's just this thing called La Llorona. And she's very like the Woman in White these guys were talking about," Mac said calmly. He was about to elaborate when Dean spoke over him.

"A weeping woman? That is a woman in white. Sammy, you had me all worried. We'll just comb the papers for a case of missing kids or murdered kids, dig us up some bones and poof, 007 and Q here can go home."

Jack tossed Dean a glare. He'd said exactly nothing about the real nature of their work at Phoenix. And he couldn't believe that Cas just offered it up, even after reading Mac's thoughts. That meant Dean had interrogated their friendly neighborhood angel a little.

And that bugged him almost as much as Dean getting them involved in this. He'd wanted to be forgiving, wanted to just acknowledge that it was okay to reach out for help, but damn it all to hell anyway … Didn't do much good to be mad at Dean or at Cas for that matter. Of course, in Dean's analogy Jack was 007 and Mac was Q, so it was hard to be too upset. Instead of snatching Dean's head off, which he still sort of wanted to do, he asked, "I think there's more to what they found, cousin."

When Jack tipped his chin at him, Sam began to speak again. Sam was glancing back and forth between the three of them. "The weeping woman and woman in white stories probably started with La Llorona, or she might have started with them and drawn energy from the belief people placed in seeing her. But … Dean … I know what you're gonna say … But, we may have stumbled onto a primitive goddess here."

Dean frowned, and Jack looked sick. Mac took their silence as an opportunity to jump back in to the conversation. "La Llorona goes deeper than the mythos of the woman in white. She's deeply steeped in ancient cultures and traditions in this part of the world. Even the Chumash, natives of what we think of as southern California have legends about her. And many anthropologists have linked the myths around her to those of the goddess Lamia in ancient Greece. That's the part of the story that has gotten deep into even modern urban legends in this part of the world. And that's the part that makes me think her targeting me revealed what she is."

He paused, just to take a breath before continuing his explanation when Jack broke in. "So, who's this Lamia, or at least why does she matter in why this thing would go after you?" Jack's frown was Murdoc-level deep.

Mac swallowed hard. Jack was going to hate this. No, that was an understatement. There might not be a word for how Jack was going to feel about this. Wait … no … Guilty … that was probably the word.

"Lamia was a demi-goddess who was robbed of the children she had with Zeus even though she loved them deeply and protected them relentlessly. So she spent eternity robbing others of the most loved and protected of their family and friends."

He paused again, glancing around, almost wishing that Cas had stayed, but also sort of relieved that he wasn't currently the subject of the angel's penetrating gaze. "Some people think she's connected to the fallen angel Lilith."

He stopped short when he saw a look pass between the brothers, but Sam just nodded for him to go on.

"She's the one believed to drain her victims of their blood. It's a legend especially associated with children … Not necessarily minor children, but with loved offspring. She is rumored to feed as much on the sense of the survivors' loss as she does on the flesh and blood of her victims."

Sam jumped in then before Jack or Dean could start questions, doubts, or anything else. Mac was on to something. Sam felt it.

"La Llorona, or Lilith, as she can properly be assumed to be based on our research, brings all kinds of baggage with her, especially if you decide to fight. Shadow people, possessed children of extraordinary power, and she can manifest in many forms. She's often the beautiful weeping woman that other lesser spirits have tried to emulate, a child, a black cloaked figure, and even in the form of the Grim Reaper. And I'm pretty sure I know how to draw her out and get rid of her."

"Are you serious right now?" Dean said, and Sam could tell he was about to go off about things they had faced so he just held up a hand.

"Dean, I think he's right. There's Lilith, and there's Lilith, you know?"

Dean smiled just a little. Sam was already thinking about bringing this to an end and getting their cousin and his young friend out of this mess. And just like he and Sam didn't need to know all the spy shit their cousin got up to (Cas looked a little horrified when he'd revealed that what Mac and Jack did was a secret), those guys didn't need to know the depth of this world either.

"So, you guys think you've identified this thing for sure?" he asked instead.

"Yeah, and …" Sam looked uncomfortable as hell. "There's something else … It's super creepy." He looked at Mac, clearly not wanting to explain but knowing he needed to.

"Go on," Mac said levelly, knowing that whatever was bothering Sam pertained to him, and much as he didn't want to know, he recognized that he needed to before he laid out his plan.

"There's legends that when her victim is a young unmarried man … Shit." He stopped, running his hands over his face and through his long hair. Mac just pinned him with a cool blue stare, ignoring Jack's soft, wide-eyed and fearful dark one. "She's rumored to steal their … you know … and make a demon baby with … you get where I'm going with this?"

Mac got up and strode across the room to the small bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.

Dean spoke first. "Jesus. You think he's okay?"

Jack nodded slowly. Then he contradicted himself. "Nope. Not even a little. But if I've learned nothing else this last year it's this: Mac will take help when he's goddamned good and ready. Not a second before. The one time I've really pushed, he made some real bad decisions and I nearly lost …"

Jack stopped when he heard how husky his voice had gotten.

Then he resumed speaking as he heard the toilet flush and the sink start running. "If he can't handle things, he'll say something. We've just got to trust that he will."

"You think he really came across a way to get rid of this thing?" Dean asked, clearly directing his question at both Sam and Jack.

Jack almost snapped, "He wouldn't have said so if he hadn't. Mac doesn't just talk to hear himself."

Dean widened his eyes at Sam at Jack's defensive tone. The look said, "Wow, would you get a load of this guy?"

Sam's responding amused eyebrow raise just made him frown.

Sam's look said, "Yeah, I wake up half a motel room away from that face every damned day, big brother."

Dean looked at his lap for a few minutes after that. But when the door to the bathroom cracked open again, in spite of Jack and Sam trying to get there first, Dean was the one on his feet.

"Mac … I'm sorry, man, I shouldn't have …"

"What?" Mac bit out. "Called the one person you knew who would help? Or brought in his partner who's done the toughest jobs with him against much more serious shit than the stuff people have nightmares about? I've had scarier things than some creepy myth come after me."

Mac stopped and took a slow deliberate breath. His hair was wet around the edges from repeatedly splashing cold water on his face. He half smiled at the look Jack was giving him. "Do not ask if I'm okay right now," he said with mostly mock severity.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jack drawled. "Seein' as how you're pretty obviously not." He paused. "Should we try callin' Cas again, kid? You look like garbage."

Mac shook his head and brushed past the three of them to sit down. He knew it was obvious he'd been sick, knew he still looked kind of green, and it was killing Jack, and pretty clearly Dean as well, to not freak out on him. But this wasn't a feeling Castiel could help with. It wasn't his brain trying to bend in ways he's never trained it to. This was the feeling he got when he thought about how obsessed with him Murdoc was. It was the same sick sinking feeling exactly.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then motioned with his head for the other guys to sit, giving them a wry smirk that took a little effort, but was worth it because the protective expressions on all three of the other faces in the room softened a little.

"Okay, so even if I didn't know this being was a next level stalker with some serious boundary issues, I'd want this over with. Now, I'm just more motivated."

Jack sat down next to him. "What is it with you and psychos getting weird crushes?"

Mac puffed out a laugh. Then he glanced at Jack. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"If you can joke about Murdoc, about this, then it's not a dire as it feels."

Jack put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, it feels pretty damned dire to me, too, kid. But, before Sam decided you just needed to know that fun little detail about this weirdo woman thing that made you lose your lunch, you said something about knowing how to get rid of it. So, I figure we'll be on a plane back to LA by morning."

Mac swallowed hard. None of them were going to like this either. "You can't destroy her … Not if it's really La Llorona and not just a Weeping Woman copycat."

The others frowned. Dean and Sam thought they could destroy just about anything. But nothing Mac had found was encouraging in that regard.

Mac went on. "But she can be bound. Stories suggest that once she's bound, she loses focus, loses attachment to anything she was going after. And you can get rid of the object you bind her in far away from you."

Dean was nodding. He'd done plenty of bindings before. "That shouldn't be too hard then, even if she invites all those friends you were talking about to the party. But since we don't know for sure the identity she's attached to, we can't exactly summon her. It'd be best to get her into a Devil's Trap."

Mac and Jack both looked a question at him.

"It's a spell kind of a thing. Keeps most demons from moving off where you want them. But getting her there is going to be the hard part. It's not like she's only bound to one spot like a Weeping Woman anyway."

Mac nodded. "That's where I come in."

He glanced at Jack again, almost flinching at the look on his partner's face.

"If she's 'got a crush' so to speak. We'll get everything we need to bind her and get her out of this place and off my back. Then we use me as bait."

"Mac, no way," Jack protested immediately.

Mac shook his head, sighing. He didn't like it either. Especially not now. "You got a better idea?"

Jack's expression of frustrated, fearful anger at his own helplessness in this situation carved his face into deep lines. "Almost never," he admitted with a sigh of his own.