Straight Trade

by AlexJanna

Jess's life was destroyed. She'd watched her boyfriend burn up on the ceiling and the only person that can give her answers was the relative stranger that carried her out of the fire and saved her life. Sam's long lost brother Dean.

8. Back to the Beginning

Summary: They say there's no place like home, but Jess was sure Dean would give anything not to be in Kansas anymore.

---

Jess was sitting cross-legged on Dean's bed, a towel laid out with bits and pieces of different guns scattered in front of her. Her fingers were getting stained with grease and the smell of gun oil was likely to never come out of her nose. It didn't bother her too much. Over the weeks on the road with Dean the smell of gun oil has started to mean safety. There was always a trace of it mixed in with the smell of leather and dude that came off Dean.

That being said, she was getting really frustrated. Dean had decided she needed practice disassembling, cleaning and reassembling their ridiculously vast arsenal. Who knew that guns had so many pieces and parts? That and she'd pinched her fingers in the small mechanisms so many times she was going to be covered in blood blisters.

"All right, I've been cruising the web and I think I've found some possibilities for our next gig."

Jess fumbled with the slide on a Berretta and pinched the skin between her thumb and index finger "Son of a bitch!"

Dean hid a smirk before she could see it.

"We've got a fishing trawler off the coast of Cali, the whole crew vanished." Jess made a distracted noise of interest. "Some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "And a guy in Sacramento shot himself in the head three times."

She looked up expression dubious. "That just sounds like unfortunate aim, not supernatural evil."

"Meh. Could go either way." He shrugged. "So what's blowing up your skirt? Ghost ship or dead Bevos?"

Jess tilted her head considering, her fingers clumsily shoving an oil cloth through the Berretta's barrel. "Well, I haven't been on a boat in a while. Could use a little brushing up on my sailing skills."

"Ghost ship it is." Dean turned back to the laptop, but before he could pull up any more info on the hunt Jess's hunting cell started ringing.

They both eyed it curiously. The screen displayed an unfamiliar number. It was usually Dean's phones that rang randomly with unfamiliar numbers.

Cautiously she picked it up looking to Dean. He nodded and she flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Jessica, honey, my name is Missouri. I'm a psychic in Lawrence, Kansas," a woman on the other line said. She had a light pitched, smooth voice with a wisp to her words. She sounded like an older woman, middle aged with a forceful personality, like she would shove familiarity on you whether you liked it or not.

"Um…okay." She glanced at Dean uncertainly. "Why are you calling me?"

"Well, I've been told you and Dean need to come home, to Lawrence. There's something wrong with his old house."

A shiver went up Jess's spine. "What do you mean 'wrong'? What's wrong with his house?"

"I don't know." Missouri the psychic sighed. "But there's a family livin' there now. They're in danger."

"I-I don't understand. Who told you about Dean's old house? How did you even get my number?"

Dean had been listening closely to Jessica's side of the conversation. She was getting tenser the longer it went on and he was prepared to grab the phone and demand to know what was going. When he heard Jessica mention his old house, every muscle in his body tensed and he stood, reaching over to snatch the phone.

"You tell Dean to sit back down," Missouri ordered, like she had a right to. "I'll be able to tell you everything I know once you get here. Make it quick, though. I don't how much longer that family will be safe."

Before Jess could say anything to that, Dean wrenched the phone from her hands.

"Who the fuck is this?" he growled.

He waited a breath scowling then pulled the phone from his ear and snapped it shut. "They hung up."

Jess took in a shaky breath. "Dean, I think we're gonna have to go to Kansas."

He clenched his fist around the phone. "What the hell was that?"

"It was a psychic called Missouri. She said there was something wrong in your old house. That a family was in danger."

Dean hissed through his teeth. "This lady just called you to tell you that? How did she even know your number?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don't know!" Jess frowned up at him. "Why do you sound like I had something to do with this? I didn't even know you were from Kansas!"

"Jessica, random psychics don't just call people out of the blue talking about people's old houses."

"Don't get mad at me!" She shoved him back away from the bed so she could stand. "You don't think I'm just as freaked out about this as you are? I'm the one she called, why didn't she call you if it's your house!"

Jess had never actually yelled at him before and it shocked Dean out of his angry haze. He deflated. Lifting a hand to rub over his face, he sighed wearily. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be getting angry at you."

"Damn right you shouldn't," Jess snapped still not happy with him.

His jaw ticked, but he didn't snap back at her. She had a right to be pissed at him. It wasn't her fault the mere thought of going back to Lawrence made his gut clinch.

"So, what did this psychic tell you?" he asked reluctantly, forcing himself to keep his tone level. "Did she tell you what was going on with- with my old house?"

Jess held onto her frown for another second then picked up Dean's olive branch. "She didn't say much. Just that there was something wrong with the house. That a family was in danger."

"Yeah, that's not annoyingly vague or anything," he grumbled.

Jess lips quirked amused. She'd forgiven him already.

"Well." Dean clapped his hands together trying to make light of the situation. "I guess you're not going to get your sailing practice in after all. We're going to Kansas."

---

They searched the web and couldn't find any articles of anything weird going on in Lawrence, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Usually they didn't find their hunts until someone had already died. The psychic, Missouri, had just said the family was in danger, not that bodies had started dropping.

Jess let the drive continue in silence. The atmosphere in the car was tense and Dean's brow was wrinkled the entire way, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. She could tell he was upset just from the fact that he hadn't even twitched a finger to turn on the radio.

They made the drive in ten hours nonstop with only bathroom breaks and a short fill up in between. Jess would have protested if she didn't already know that Dean was struggling.

His words, the way he'd told her about how his mother died, how tight his voice got when he told her he'd carried Sam out of the house. They played over and over in Jess's head stuck on a loop. She was having a hard time with the thought of going back to the place where everything, this fucked up life had started. She couldn't imagine how Dean had to be feeling.

By the time they hit Lawrence city limits it was too late to either check out the house or find the psychic. They pulled into the first motel they passed and got a double queen room like every other room they'd ever rented.

They had grabbed fast food on their way to the motel so there wasn't anything to occupy their time with except thinking. About the thing that might be in Dean's childhood home or about the nightmarish memories of the last time he'd stepped foot inside it. Either option wasn't good and Jess could almost physically feel the roiling emotions coming off Dean.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Jess asked quietly as she watched Dean paw through John's journal restlessly.

"I don't know," he muttered dropping the journal on the bed next to him and scrubbing his face roughly with both hands. "I don't know. I have no freaking idea what the hell we're even doing here."

"We should go talk to Missouri," Jess suggested. "She's the one that called us in the first place."

Dean blew out a long breath. "Yeah. Maybe." He dropped his head back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling unseeingly.

Jess let the silence hang between them for a moment before she decided to speak. "What do you know about psychics? Are there really people that are actually psychic?"

Dean lifted his head and turned to look at her. "Psychics are real," he confirmed. "There's different kinds. Ones like Whoopie or Zelda Rubenstein. Some can get messages from the dead, read palms, minds, auras, you know the usual gigs. Our dad used to leave us with a psychokinetic. Dude could control the physical, manipulate material things anyway he wanted."

"So Missouri could be a real psychic."

"That's what I'm betting on." Dean nodded. "But I don't get how she knew to call you. And why you and not me?"

"And why would she even care to find a way to contact us in the first place," Jess added.

Any answers either of them could come up weren't comfortable to think about. Suddenly, Dean frowned and picked up John's journal again flipping to the first page. His face smoothed out in revelation.

"Missouri," he started. "That name, it kept nagging me. I couldn't figure it out, but I just remembered. Here, on the first page of my dad's journal."

Jess stood up and moved to sit next him on his bed leaning over to look at the journal reading, "'I went to Missouri and I learned the truth.'"

"I always thought he meant the state," Dean mused. "But a psychic makes more sense."

Jess smiled. "Yeah, I guess it would." She looked back down at the entry and hummed in thought. "So, Missouri knew your dad. Maybe that's why she noticed that there was something wrong. She's more sensitive 'cause she has a connection."

Dean tossed the journal away again. "Just as likely as anything. Guess we'll find out tomorrow."

Jess relaxed back against the headboard her shoulder pressed to Dean's, sharing warmth. She picked up the remote off the bedside table and turned the tv on. Neither of them were going to get much sleep that night so they might as well get caught up on their shopping channel products and infomercials.

"Hey, wait go back." Dean patted the back of his hand against her leg. "That looked interesting."

"Dr. Sexy MD?" She asked dubiously.

He just shrugged. "It's not like I'm gonna buy a Slap Chop or anything."

Jess looked back at the hospital drama playing on the screen and figured, what the hell, why not. She set the remote down and settled into watch.

---

Missouri Mosely was in the phone book right under the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. She worked out of her house, a homey two story that looked satisfactorily new age. There was a tinkling wind chime hanging on the front porch, crystals sitting inside on the windowsills, and wind ornaments in the suspiciously herby garden.

"Those don't look like cooking herbs," Jess commented as they walked up the front step.

Dean eyed them and snorted. "That's 'cause they're not."

There was a welcome sign on the front door that said, "Come right on in," and there was a welcome mat with ancient looking symbols on it.

Dean saw her eyeing it. "Celtic symbols for health and good fortune."

Jess shrugged, figured it wasn't all that much of a stretch for a psychic that called total strangers because a random family was in danger to have symbols like that on her welcome mat.

They walked in the door and found a comfortable waiting room. It looked just like a regular old parlor with couches that were cared for, but obviously broken in. The only thing that really screamed waiting room were the out of date magazines, National Geographic and Oprah respectively.

Jess considerately ignored Dean's shifty look as he picked up an Oprah magazine and started flipping through it.

They only had to wait a little over ten minutes before they heard a door sliding open and two pairs of footsteps coming toward them. It was an average unremarkable looking man followed closely by a short, plump black woman. Two guesses which one is the psychic and one of them doesn't count.

"All right, there. Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you."

Jess recognized her voice from the phone, still wispy and light.

The man left with a thank you and no sooner had the woman closed the door she turned around and sighed.

"Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

Dean looked puzzled. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"People don't come here for the truth," she said. "They come here for good news."

Jess didn't know how true that was. After all, John's journal had said he went to Missouri and learned the truth.

Missouri looked them both up and down and suddenly her expression softened.

"Dean and Jessica, I'm glad you came."

"You knew we'd come," Jess replied. After all, the way Missouri had just hung up on her she seemed pretty confident her summons would be heeded.

"Mostly." Missouri shrugged with a smile. "Well, come on. We ain't got all day."

Dean and Jess shared a look before standing up in sync and following the short woman further into her home.

They followed her all the way through a beaded curtain and into a cozy den. Missouri turned around and eyed Dean up and down.

"Let me look at you." She hummed pleased. "Oh, you grew up handsome, boy. And Jessica," she reached out and took Jess's hand in a soft grasp. "You certainly are beautiful."

She was completely sincere and Jess couldn't help but smile. Then Missouri turned and grabbed Dean's hand as well. He tensed.

"Oh, honeys, I'm so very sorry about Sam. He loved you both very much." She frowned suddenly looking from Dean to Jess, something unreadable flickered in her expression then it was gone. She turned concerned before either of them could give much thought to it.

Dean cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, his body almost radiating tension. "How'd you know about Sam?"

Missouri looked saddened. "Well, you were just thinking about just now."

"Do you know what killed him?" It came out sounding almost angry, demanding. "Do you know what killed our mom?"

Jess could tell Missouri was truly sorry she couldn't give them an answer. Dean however, wasn't satisfied.

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic aren't you?"

Her face became pinched as Missouri scowled in affront. "Boy, you don't see me sawing some bony tramp in half. You think I'm a magician? I read thoughts and sense energies. I don't just pull answers out of thin air."

She turned away sharply and gestured to the couch pressed up against one wall. "Sit. Please."

Dean looked part chastised and part pissed still. Jess decided it was probably best to just follow Missouri's instructions and sit down. She pressed a hand to Dean's back and pushed him in the direction of the couch. He glanced at her sullenly, but was soon taking a seat next to her.

"Boy! You put your feet up on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon."

Dean's scowl deepened and he dropped his boot back down to the floor. Jess looked back at Missouri, curiously. The woman somehow got her number and called her up out of the blue because she knew she was traveling with Dean. That in itself was suspicious, but no matter how good a mind reader you were, there was no way she could have known Sam loved either of them, just from their biased thoughts and memories floating around in their heads.

Jess was inclined to like this short brusque woman despite all the unanswered questions, because she also had a kind manner about her. It was plain that she cared about people, and she cared about using her powers for good things.

But idle threat or not, Jess had spent too damn long on the road fighting creatures from your worst nightmares side by side with Dean. A whack with a spoon was minor compared to a wendigo's claws, but that was twice she'd jumped down Dean's throat and Jess had grown a might protective of her partner.

And if she kept that up, Jess's generosity with her good will was going to run out.

"Ms. Mosely," Jess spoke into the sullen silence. "You called us saying a family was in danger. That there was something in Dean's old house."

Missouri sat back and nodded. "I did. I've been keeping an eye on the place and I noticed that something was wrong. The energies in the house took a dark turn. I called you because you can help."

"You knew my dad, didn't you? That's why you even noticed," Dean cut in. "That's why you called us. He came to you for answers, so you knew he would believe you."

Missouri nodded slowly. "It wasn't long after the fire that your daddy came to me." She pursed her lips, remembering. "He wanted the truth so I told him what was really out there. I guess you could say I pulled back the curtains for him."

Dean swallowed thickly. "And the fire. Do you know what killed our mom?" He asked again, trying to be calmer.

Jess saw Missouri's frown unhappily and she already knew the answer.

"He took me to your house hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of the thing."

"And did you?" Dean's voice was strained and his knee started to bounce up and down. Jess reached over and stilled it, squeezing lightly in comfort.

"I don't know what it was." Missouri shook her head. "But it was evil."

A shiver went up Jess's spine. It wasn't like she didn't already know the thing that killed Mary Winchester and Sam was evil incarnate, but hearing it whispered from a psychic like that was unsettling. Under her hand the muscles in Dean's leg tense. He wasn't liking the implications either.

---

After their uneasy meeting with the psychic, Dean and Jess pulled into a gas station to fill up before driving over to the house. Jess wasn't quite sure how they were going to get the family to let them in to talk, but she was confident that one way or another they'd get in the house.

Slowly but surely Dean was letting Jess take more and more liberties with the Impala, but she was still nervous that she'd do some obscure thing wrong and Dean would make her ride in the trunk as punishment. So it was that she was paying so much attention to just how much gas she was filling up the tank it took a while to notice that Dean was spending way too much time taking a leak.

Even still, she waited until the gas cap was safely screwed back on before she went hunting for him.

When she found him she almost wished she hadn't.

"I don't know what to do." Dean had his cell pressed so hard against his ear his fingertips were white. His voice was strained and quivering and Jess knew he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad."

He took in a shuddering breath before he snapped the cell closed and shoved it roughly back in pocket. His shoulders were hunched and Jess could just barely make out a fine tremor in them.

As quietly as she could, she backed up then turned and hurried to car. By the time Dean came around the corner, Jess was sitting in the passenger seat trying very hard to look like she hadn't just been eavesdropping on him calling his father for help.

"Ready to go see the old house?" Dean slid into the seat and started up the engine.

Jess thought she was the one that should be asking him that. "Are you?"

He paused with his hands on the wheel, then nonchalantly shifted gears and pulled away. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

She didn't say anything more, because she knew any answer she could have given him wouldn't have been received well. They drove the ten minutes to the old Winchester family home in silence.

When they pulled up to the curb and finally looked at the house where it all started Jess didn't know what she had been expecting. Obviously the house wouldn't look like a burned out shell like her apartment. It was over twenty years ago that the fire had ravaged the house and the chances of someone not buying it and fixing it up were slim to none.

Whatever she'd been expecting she was still surprised at the sight of a pleasant looking two story with a mowed lawn and clean windows.

She cast a glance at Dean and saw him frowning as he stared at the house.

"Does it look like it used to?"

Dean flexed his hand around the steering wheel never taking his eyes off the house. "I don't really remember. I was four when we left."

He was four and had just watched his home go up in flames.

"How do you want to play this?" Jess asked.

Finally Dean tore his eyes away and looked back at her. "FBI? Termite inspectors? Gas company? Take your pick."

Jess wrinkled her nose. "'Cause that's not sketchy at all."

Dean huffed. "Well what do you think we should say?"

Biting her lip Jess leaned forward and looked across him at the house again. "It's not unheard of for a house's previous owners to stop by to take a look. We could just tell the truth."

His dubious expression said plainly what he thought about that idea.

Jess sighed beleaguered and shoved him in the shoulder while opening the car door. "Just trust me. Come on."

"Fine." Dean grumbled under his breath the entire walk across the street but the second he stepped on the front walk he fell eerily silent.

The front porch was clean and free of debris. Taking a peek into the front window, Jess saw a bunch of packing boxes scattered around the sparsely furnished living room.

"They just moved in," she murmured to Dean, he looked in the window at her prompting, the stressed frown never leaving his face.

"Great. Let's knock on the damn door already."

It took an appropriate length of time before the deadbolt was unlocked and a young blond woman with tired shadows under her eyes and a polite smile opened the door.

"Can I help you?" She looked from Jess to Dean, remaining polite through her uncertainty.

Jess waited a moment for Dean to speak, but when he didn't she saw the expression on his face. He almost looked scared.

"Hi." Jess stepped forward with a smile pulling the other woman's attention to her and not at Dean's wavering face. "I'm Jess and this is my friend Dean. He used to live here," she said for once telling the absolute truth. "We were driving by and saw that someone had moved in."

The woman's face cleared and her smile became a little more genuine. "Wait. Dean? Dean Winchester?"

Dean snapped out of his daze for the first time and looked at her warily. "Yeah. How did you know that?"

"I think I found some of your old pictures," she told them, genuinely excited at the prospect.

"You did?" Dean asked, surprised and little bit trepidatious.

She nodded. "Yeah." She hesitated for a second then stepped to the side, gesturing deeper into the house. "Why don't you come in?"

Walking through the house, they followed after the woman. The entrance way was empty, but there were a few family photos already hung up on the wall.

"I'm Jenny, by the way." The woman glanced over her shoulder at them as they followed her into the kitchen. "How long ago did you live here?"

Dean's shoulders were tense and his eyes scanned around them continuously. Jess wondered if he was seeing his childhood home instead of Jenny's.

"We uh- we moved when I was four." He answered almost reluctantly.

Jenny frowned a little, confused. "That's a long time ago."

Dean tried to smirk disarmingly. "You never forget your first. Ow!"

He scowled at Jess rubbing a hand over the sore on his ribs she'd just stabbed with her elbow. She just glared back and turned back to Jenny.

There was little girl seated at the kitchen table drawing in a coloring book and a toddler bouncing up and down in a play pen on the other side of the kitchen. He was chanting juice, juice, juice, with a childish grin. Jess felt her lips twitch in amusement.

"That's Ritchie. He's a bit of a juice junky." Jenny turned to the fridge and pulled out a sippy cup of juice. "At least he won't get scurvy."

The little boy took the juice and started mainlining it like it was going out of style.

"This is my daughter Sairie." Jenny stroked a hand over the little girl's head. Sairie glanced up at her mom and smiled back. "Sairie, this is Dean and Jess. Dean used to live here."

She looked at them and gave a shy smile. "Hi."

Jess grinned at her and waved a little. "Hi, Sairie."

If anything the introduction of the kids made Dean even more uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet and tried to keep his focus on Jenny and not on how much the kitchen looked the same and different than the last time he'd watched his mom bake an apple pie here.

"So you just moved in?" He finally settled his attention on Jenny. If she noticed the oddness of his behavior she didn't mention it.

"Yeah," Jenny's expression mellowed, saddened, then she pushed the emotions away. "Just moved from Wichita."

"You have family here or…" Dean trailed off. Jess glanced at him. He looked like he was starting to get his own emotions under control to concentrate on gathering information.

"No, I uh…" Jess saw it when Jenny glanced down at the gold band on her left ring finger for a split second then looked back up at them. "I just needed a fresh start. So, new town, new job, new house."

Dean caught the motion as well and they shared a look, before he looked back to Jenny. "How are you likin' Lawrence so far? How's the house treating you?"

Jenny hesitated for a second weighing her response. "Well, all due respect to your childhood home, but the house has its problems."

Jess's burgeoning hunter's instincts tingled and by the expression on Dean's face so did his.

"Oh, really? Like what?" He bent his expression into curiosity, but it looked forced, almost painful.

"Well," Jenny shrugged. "The sink's backed up, the lights keep flickering, and I'm pretty sure there's rats in the basement."

Dean swallowed thickly and his voice came out strained. Jess ached for him even though her mind was already running through all the different monsters that could cause all those things.

"Well, that's too bad."

Jenny looked regretful. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No, it's alright," he assured her even though it was obvious her words had hit a nerve. "Have you actually seen the rats or just heard the scratching?"

Jenny frowned. "Just the scratching, I guess."

There was something about the invisible rats that rang a bell for Jess, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The fact that Dean had focused on the rats, meant it was significant.

"Mom." Sairie's voice was quiet in the way that little kids had when they thought they were being discreet.

"Honey?"

"Ask him if it was here when he lived here." She flicked her eyes at Dean and when his eyes met hers she looked away shyly.

"What?" Jenny asked, confused.

"The thing in my closet," Sairie whispered fearfully.

"Baby, there was nothing in his closet. Right?" She looked at Dean asking him to back her up.

"No, there wasn't anything in my closet," Dean agreed regardless of his almost visible need to dig.

"See? There isn't anything in your closet." Jenny looked like she'd had to contend with the invisible thing in the closet before. Jess was sure she thought that Dean's words would reinforce her assurance.

"Yes, there is," Sairie burst out, frustrated at not being believed.

"I'm sorry." Jenny looked back at Jess and Dean. "She had a nightmare the other night."

"It wasn't a nightmare! It came out of my closet and it was on fire," Sairie said, looking right at Dean her expression trying to convince him.

He didn't need to be convinced. Jess felt a shiver race up her spine and her chest hitched. All thoughts that this was just some random coincidence that brought them here flew from her mind. There was no way a figure on fire coming out of a closet in a house where a mother died burning on the ceiling was anything other than related.

One glance at Dean and Jess knew he was too shocked by this revelation to even begin to follow procedure. Jess was struggling with her own shock and horror, but she shoved everything down with the resolve to try and treat this like any other case. First step, gather information. Second step, check out the scene of the crime.

"That sounds pretty scary," Jess murmured sympathetically to Sairie stepping closer and crouching down to eye level with the little girl.

Sairie nodded and pressed her shoulder into her mom's stomach where she was standing next to her chair. "It comes out on fire and stands there staring at me."

"I would be scared too, but you know what?" Jess gestured over her shoulder. "Dean is a monster hunter."

Dean looked at her in surprise. Jess jerked her head toward Sairie pointedly.

"Uh- Yeah." Dean stumbled not as quick on the uptake as usual. "I am. I get rid of closet monsters all the time."

Jenny looked like she didn't know exactly how she felt about where this conversation was going, but one look at her daughter's hopeful expression and she decided to play along.

"Sairie, I bet if you asked nicely, Dean would look in your closet for you."

Sairie hit Dean with those big shiny eyes. "Can you? Look in my closet?"

Jess had already known he was going to look in the closet, but Dean was a big softy for kids and now, come hell or high water, he was going to look in that closet for that little girl, even if he hadn't already had reason to look into it.

"Sure." He nodded and gestured back toward the doorway to the kitchen into the rest of the house. "Why don't you show me your room?"

Sairie jumped up and raced past them her mother trailing after her with a wry regretful expression. Dean and Jess followed behind in tense silence.

The walk up the stairs was quick and in a blink they were standing in a little girl's room. There were flowers and stuffed animals and pink decorations spread around. Dean looked mildly uncomfortable in the midst of all the girly-ness and any other time Jess would have been amused, but the circumstances were too serious.

"There." Sairie pointed from where she was standing next to Jess as far away from her closet as she could get. "That's my closet."

Dean looked around the room and Jess realized that it wasn't just the pink that was bothering him. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but Jenny beat her too it.

"Was this your room?"

Dean grimaced, but his expression cleared before he looked at Jenny to answer. "No, this- this was my little brother's nursery."

"Sammy, right?" Jenny smiled until she caught the brief flicker of sadness across Dean's face.

He smiled at her though, before she could apologize. "Yeah. Sam."

Her sympathies were in her expression, but thankfully they went unspoken in front of her daughter.

Like the expert he was, Dean shook away the memories and smiled at Sairie. "Alright, let's take a look at your closet."

He was all hunter's confidence and showmanship for Sairie's benefit as he strode over to the closet and yanked the doors open.

Not that she was actually expecting anything to jump out at them, but Jess still felt herself relax when all that was revealed was miniature clothes and shoe boxes.

"Nothing, yet." Dean hummed. "Gotta look a little closer just to make sure though."

He stepped inside and ran his hands across the shelves and along the walls, rapping his knuckles against the paneling. Getting down on his knees he felt along the baseboards and knocked against the wood flooring. Jess watched him intently, not completely sure how much of this was actually relevant and how much was just for Sairie's benefit.

Seeming done with his examination Dean stood up and came out closing the doors behind him. "I couldn't find anything, Sairie. Your closet looks monster free."

He wasn't lying about it looking clean, but Jess could tell that he wasn't the least bit convinced of the lack of any other supernatural presence.

"But I saw it!" Sairie burst out again. "I did. I'm not making it up."

"I believe you, Sairie," Dean assured her, only barely placating her. "And I'll tell you what, I'll give your mom my number so if the thing comes back, she can call me and I'll come over and get rid of it."

She looked dubious, but hopeful again. "Really? You'll come?"

He nodded, deadly serious. "I promise. Cross my heart." He actually crossed his heart and Sairie seemed appeased.

Jenny escorted them back down the stairs, Sairie returning to the kitchen when they reached the bottom.

Before Jenny could open the door and see them out, Jess was handing Dean her little notepad from her purse along with a pilfered motel pen.

"Oh, you don't actually have to do that."

"It's no problem, Jenny," Dean said and ripped out the sheet handing it to her, waiting until she finally took it and looked at it. "That's my number and Jess's. We're going to be in town for a while, so if you have any problems-"

"Closet monster related or not," Jess cut in when Jenny started to look suspicious.

Dean cast her a look and finished. "Just give us a call."

Jenny looked back down at the paper in her hand and finally nodded, giving them a smile. "Thank you, for this. And thank you for indulging Sairie. You didn't have to do that."

"It was no problem." Dean waved her thanks away.

"We just hope it makes her feel better." Jess smiled.

"I think it will. Thanks again."

They all exchanged polite goodbyes and two minutes later, Dean and Jess were back in the car and pulling away from the curb.

The silence around them was heavy and Jess was worried Dean's face would get stuck like that if he didn't stop scowling so hard.

"I'm thinking it's not a coincidence that there's something wrong with the house," Jess said, breaking the silence.

"No," Dean agreed darkly. "Definitely not a coincidence."

Jess bit her lip really reluctant to ask. "Do you think it's the thing that killed your mom and Sam?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted reluctantly. "I just know the flickering lights, the scratching in the walls, that's all signs of a malicious spirit."

"But do malicious spirits usually target their victims twenty years later on the other side of the country?" Jess asked dubiously.

"No," Dean growled. "No, they don't."

"But the figure on fire. What are the chances that isn't related to your mom's death?"

"I'm guessing not very high."

"So what's the connection?" Jess frowned, trying and failing to come up with an answer. This was way out of her comfort zone. And it was glaringly obvious it was out of Dean's comfort zone as well.

She had an uneasy feeling about this whole thing, and it was becoming apparent this was only going to get more complicated as they went along.

Dean's scowl ratcheted up a notch. "I have no freaking idea."

---

All they could really do at this point was their due diligence. They talked to John's old business partner and got pretty much nothing they didn't already know. The only thing that could have been noteworthy was that Jess had to practically hold Dean back from decking the older man.

Not that Jess really begrudged him his anger, but punching a guy in face for being worried about a couple of helpless kids wasn't exactly conducive to being inconspicuous and not getting arrested.

All the news articles about the house they could dig up at the library weren't much more helpful. Other than Mary Winchester's death and the devastating fire at the house nothing even remotely interesting had happened in the house.

It had two previous owners, one of them a family as well, but neither had reported any freak accidents or deaths. Whatever was happening in the house was definitely a new development.

Finally, Jess couldn't stomach the look on Dean's face any longer and she dragged him away with the lure of food. If anything could have made her even more worried about him, on top of the entire emotional clusterfuck he was suffering, Dean only ate about half his burger and picked at his fries halfheartedly. He didn't even ask if they had any pie.

She was going to be so very glad when this was all over, because the only other time she been this worried about Dean had been in aftermath of Sam's death.

The surreptitious glances he kept casting his phone didn't help either. In fact it just added a healthy layer of anger on top of everything else she was feeling.

After their lackluster dinner, Jess brooked no argument when she suggested they pack it in for the day and head back to the motel.

Dean was in no position to protest when Jess called first shower. He just sat on his bed and sullenly started flipping through the minimal chancels on the tv. It wasn't until she came out of the bathroom dressed in her stretchy leggings and oversized t-shirt for bed with wet hair that Jess decided the silence had to stop.

Dean hadn't moved an inch and was now staring blankly at a documentary on penguins. The narrator kept mispronouncing penguins as "pengwings" and Jess was pretty sure Dean couldn't have cared less about their eating habits.

"I think we should take Missouri to the house tomorrow," Jess said sitting down on her own bed and started brushing out her hair. "She said she read the echoes or whatever for John. Maybe she'll be able to shed some light on what's in the house now."

Dean punched the tv off and tossed the remote to the side rubbing tiredly at his face. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Of course it is." Jess exaggeratedly flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I came up with it."

He snorted, vaguely amused, and Jess grinned to herself happy with her little triumph.

"I've been thinking," Jess said as she started braiding her. "This doesn't sound like the standard malicious spirit. Usually, there's a pattern of violence, but so far all Jenny and the kids are getting is creepy taunting."

"Yeah." Dean nodded finally getting off his bed and pulling off his boots. "The only thing that glares ghost is the flaming closet monster, but even that hasn't caused any damage yet."

He started rummaging through his duffle pulling out his sweatpants and his dopp kit. "It's definitely some kind of spirit though and it's going to get violent sooner rather than later."

"So for a lack of other options we take Missouri to the house and get a reading."

"That's the plan." Dean disappeared into the bathroom, conversation done.

Jess climbed under the covers and curled up around her pillow getting comfortable. The sounds of Dean getting ready were strangely relaxing and by the time he came out and climbed into his own bed, she was already on the cusp of sleep.

"'Night, Jess," he murmured as he settled down into the only marginally comfortable mattress.

"'Night." Apparently all the reminders of grief and death were exhausting, 'cause despite the emotional turmoil she was asleep before he flipped the light off.

---

The next morning Jess was in the process of flipping through the yellow pages looking for somewhere to have lunch. They'd decided not to try and impose on Jenny until the afternoon. Missouri had been informed of this plan and was waiting to be picked up around four.

Dean was at the kitchenette table flipping absently through John's journal when his cell rang.

He glanced at the screen and flipped it open. "Hello?... Oh, hey, Jenny. Is something wrong?"

Jess glanced over curiously.

Dean listened for a second then straightened in alarm. "What? When did this happen?"

Tossing, the phone book on the nightstand, Jess stood up and grabbed her shoes shoving her feet into them. It was obvious they were going to miss lunch, because Dean only ever sounded like that when the shit was starting to hit the fan.

"No, no. Stay there. We'll be there in twenty minutes." He snapped the phone shut and grabbed up his jacket shoving his gun in the inside pocket.

Jess hurriedly slipped her shoulder holster on and holstered Sam's gun. She grabbed her little purse and her jacket jogging after Dean out of the motel room.

"Let me guess." Jess slammed the passenger door even as Dean was already reversing out of the parking spot. "The spirit just got violent."

"Upped the ante with a plumber's hand in a dispose-all."

Jess felt a little queasy at the thought. "Gross."

"Call Missouri." He made a sharp turn and Jess had to grab the door handle to keep from sliding. "Tell her we're picking her up a little early."

They made it to Missouri's in seven minutes and Jess was pretty sure he'd broken the speed limit by thirty miles an hour.

Missouri was waiting for them on her porch and when she saw them pull up she started down the stairs. She walked stiffly, like she had bad knees or a stiff hip and just as Jess registered that Dean was already out and rounding the car. Meeting her halfway down the walk, he slipped an arm under hers and almost carried her the rest of the way. He opened the backdoor for her and waited just until she pulled her feet inside before slamming it closed and practically sliding over the hood to get back in the car.

They made it to the house in eight minutes and forty seconds.

They were almost to the front door when Jenny opened it.

"You didn't have to come," she made a jittery protest.

"It's alright," Jess assured her. "We told you, you could call us." She put a restraining hand on Dean's arm trying to keep him from rushing the door and bullying himself inside.

Thankfully, Jenny didn't leave them standing on the porch she readily stepped aside. When Missouri stepped across the threshold escorted by Dean, Jenny asked, "Who are you?"

"Jenny, this is Missouri," Jess introduced. "She's a family friend."

"And a psychic," Dean added gruffly not even bothering to ease her into it.

"A psychic?" Jenny repeated in surprise looking between them warily. "I don't understand."

"You'll have to forgive him, honey. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed," Missouri broke in before either Jess or Dean could say anything. "Why don't we go sit down and you can tell us what's happened."

Jess's hackles rose and she sent Missouri a look. That was the third time she'd said something disparaging about Dean and despite the seriousness of the situation Jess couldn't help but be distract by how not happy that made her.

She could tell that Missouri caught some of the disapproving angry vibes Jess was sending her way, because the older woman glanced at her with an unreadable expression before she turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

"I don't really know what to tell you. I don't even know why I called you, it was just an accident," Jenny said as she led them into the living room. She was obviously a little shaken despite her words.

Missouri took the lone armchair and Dean stayed standing as Jess and Jenny took the couch.

"On the phone you told Dean something happened to the plumber," Jess reminded her, trying to keep her expression comforting.

Jenny swallowed thickly. "Yes. He came to fix the sink. He wasn't here twenty minutes when I heard him start screaming."

"That's when you came in and found him short a couple fingers," Dean finished.

"Yeah." Jenny ran shaky hands over her cheeks. "I mean I've always heard you're not supposed to stick your hands down the dispose-all, but I didn't actually think…"

"And why should you, honey?" Missouri commiserated. "That poor man getting hurt? I think you know there was nothing accidental about that."

Jenny's eyes were wide and she was shaking her head back and forth, but Jess could see in her expression that she was trying so hard not to believe what Missouri was saying.

"Jenny," Jess reached over and held one of her hands. "There's something in the house. Something here that wants to hurt you. You know it, don't you?"

"I-I don't…" Looking from Dean's grim expression to Missouri's sympathy to Jess's confidence, Jenny finally nodded slowly. "There's something really wrong here."

Dean stepped over and crouched down in front of the shaking woman. "Jenny, we can help. That's what we do." He looked her in the eyes and let his expression soften. "Me and Jess, we help people."

"You help people with evil houses?" She asked with an incredulous chuckle.

Dean's lips twitched up in a small grin. "Not the strangest thing we've come across."

"So the thing about you being a monster hunter?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned full on now. "Closet monsters are actually pretty tame compared to."

Jess felt herself start to smile as she watched Dean slowly help Jenny relax. He gave her something not horrible to concentrate on, he lifted the mood, and before their eyes, Jenny was loosening up and not looking so overwhelmed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jess could tell that Missouri was watching her. When she turned she saw the speculative look on the woman's face and Jess just ignored her. Whatever woo-woo waves the woman was picking up from her were less important than making sure Jenny and her kids lived through the day.

Jess stiffened suddenly. "Where are your kids, Jenny?"

Turning her attention back to Jess, Jenny answered, "Sairie's at school and Ritchie's-" Her eyes widened with horror. "He's in the kitchen."

Almost faster than Jess could see, Dean was off the floor and running. They were just a couple steps behind him, but they all saw Ritchie's playpen open and empty.

"Ritchie?" Jenny pushed into the kitchen and looked around the kitchen frantically. "Ritchie, where are you!?"

"In the fridge!" Missouri directed from where she'd finally come up at Jess's side slower than the rest. "Dean, the fridge!"

He almost ripped the door off the hinges, the child safety lock was definitely destroyed, and there was little Ritchie crouched on the bottom shelf with a juice cup gripped in his hands.

"Ritchie!"

"Mommy!" Ritchie held his arms out to his mother dropping the juice cup to the floor.

In a flash Jenny had him in her arms rocking him back and forth, her eyes tearing up from the fear. Dean cursed under his breath and slammed the fridge closed.

"Great, the thing's escalating."

Jenny glanced at him. "What?"

"This thing, it's just going to keep getting more and more violent," Dean said, scowl firmly in place. "Eventually it's going to kill someone."

"Boy! Don't you see you're scaring the poor girl?" Missouri scolded, glaring at him.

"She should be scared," Dean tossed back before turning back to Jenny. "Jenny, we need to get you and your kids out of here. You're all in real danger now."

Jenny was wide eyed and trembling. "Okay, okay. But what are you going to do?"

"We're going to figure out what exactly this thing is and then we're going to get rid of it."

"How are you going to do that?"

Missouri stepped forward. "I'm a psychic, dear. I'm gonna read the energies of the house and hopefully that will tell us what kind of evil is here."

Jess could see it in her eyes, that Jenny was getting overwhelmed again. She walked to Jenny and put a gentle hand on her back. "Come on, let's go call Sairie's school. You can pick her up early and take her and Ritchie out for the day."

Jenny swallowed and adjusted her hold on Ritchie as she nodded. "Okay. Yeah. I'll go call them now."

In less than ten minutes Jenny was in the car pulling out of the driveway with Ritchie in his car seat on the way to pick up Sairie from school. Dean turned from the window watching her drive away a determined look on his face.

"Let's get this show on the road."

They started in Sairie's room, in Sam's old nursery. Jess didn't feel any more comfortable in the room than she had the last time she'd stood in it. She didn't know how Dean was keeping his expression so schooled, she knew he had to be hurting even more than she was, but there wasn't a hint of it on his face.

Sometimes his ability to hide his emotions from the world was a little unsettling.

Missouri walked around the room with a distant almost dreamy look on his face. She ghosted her hand over the various and sundry things littered around. After a thorough circle around the room, she dropped her hand from hovering over Sairie's little red corded phone and turned back to them with a regretful expression.

"I'm sorry, but I this isn't the thing that killed your mom and Sam." She breathed deep, her eyes fluttering. "Its energies are different."

"Well, can you tell what it is?" Dean asked, trying to keep his impatience from his voice. From the scowl Missouri threw him he hadn't been successful.

"Not just it," she responded cryptically. "Them."

Jess swallowed thickly. She didn't like the sound of that at all. "Them? There's more than one."

Missouri nodded. "There's two of them. The first one is definitely what's after Jenny's family, but the second…"

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she moved to the closet and opened the doors wide stepping inside then turning to face them.

"I can't quite get a read on it."

Dean huffed frustrated and gritted his teeth. "But you know what the other spirit is?"

Missouri glared at him again and opened her mouth about to respond something scolding and harsh, but Jess put paid to that by mentally projecting as harsh a warning as she could at her.

The older woman's eyes flicked toward her and she closed her mouth with a click. She took a steady breath and moved back to the subject. Her expression sobered with the knowledge of what they were up against, her quibble with Dean forgotten.

"It's a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

Jess's spine stiffened and her stomach knotted up. A poltergeist. It made perfect horrible sense. The scratching, the lights, the plumbing issues. It must be powerful to cause that many omens. Glancing over at Dean to gage his reaction to the news, she didn't feel any better at seeing how grim he looked.

They were in for a difficult hunt that much was obvious.

"How do we get rid of it?" She asked biting her lip. "I'm guessing we can't really burn a poltergeist's bones."

"I think purifying the house of its negative energy should take care of both spirits," Missouri answered.

Jess pasted on a tight grin and clapped her hands in anticipation. "Great. Now how do we do that?"

Apparently they did that by making a bunch of hex bags. They retreated to Missouri's house where the psychic's collection of occult cooking supplies were.

Missouri had pretty much everything they needed to make the hex bags; including the leather squares and cords to wrap the ingredients in.

Jess sat at Missouri's kitchen table and surveyed their supplies. Missouri kept her herbs and things more haphazardly organized than Dean did. Jess couldn't really see her system, but she did recognize a couple of the herbs laid out.

"Okay, so how do we make these hex bags?" Jess picked up a bundle of what she thought was dried lavender and sniffed it absently.

"We just gotta put the ingredients together." Missouri picked up a leather square from the pile and opened a jar pulling out couple of crooked thin roots. "Angelica root, van van oil," she pour a thin stream of cloudy oil from a glass stoppered cask. "Crossroad dirt," she sprinkled a pinch over the whole thing and snapped a few leaves from the sprigs of lavender Jess still held. "And lavender. All in that order."

It was fascinating. Ever since Jess had grasped the hex bag Dean has gifted her in the hospital and felt its power wash over her she'd been curious. She read all the books Dean had about rituals and magic like that, researched as much as she could on the internet though she could never tell what was bull and what was legit. But you could do all the research and academic exploration in the world and it still wasn't as good of a teacher as hands on experience.

She looked up at Missouri, not even trying to hide her eagerness. "Teach me."

Missouri get her a kind smile and sat next to her at the table. She gestured for Dean to join them. "Well, come on, boy. It's good you learn this too."

Dean didn't protest. Just pulled up a chair and promptly proceeded to pinch some odd looking seeds out of a bowl in front of him. He sniffed them curiously and stuck them in his mouth.

Missouri smirked at him in amusement. "That's a good laxative if you need it."

Jess didn't try to stifle her laugh at the look on Dean's face as he spewed the weird looking seeds everywhere.

It took them a little over two hours to get the hex bags finished. They would have been finished sooner, but Jess took longer on hers. She'd never made a hex bag before and she didn't want to mess it up. Dean on the other hand had made a fair few of different ones in his life and Missouri, of course, was very experienced.

They called and told Jenny to stay out until they called with the all clear so when they made it back to her house it was empty and dark.

Jess stamped viciously down on her nerves. She had a few hunts under belt so this should be a piece of cake. Just put her hex bag in the walls upstairs on the four directions of a compass.

Dean had the first floor and Missouri had the basement. It should be a piece of cake.

Jess snorted internally. She really had to stop saying that. She was starting to get an aversion.

"Remember," Dean murmured to her as they closed the front door behind them. "Get it done as fast as possible and if anything moves-"

"I know," Jess nodded taking just as much comfort as annoyance at Dean's protectiveness. "Shoot the shit out of it."

Dean stared at her seeming to think something over then he just shook his head and reached out to grasp her shoulder. "Be careful."

Jess nodded seriously and wrapped her hand around his wrist giving it a squeeze. "You too."

They separated, Dean into the living room and Jess toward the stairs with her shot gun held tightly in her hand. Before she stepped up, she saw Missouri looking at her with an unreadable expression.

"What?" She asked curiously.

The older woman gave her a smile and shook her head. "Nothing, honey. Just be careful."

Jess nodded, "Thanks. You too," and jogged up the stairs.

Gouging a hole in the drywall with a crowbar on the landing at the top of stairs and shoving a hex back inside was easier than she thought it would be. She waiting a breath to see in anything jumped out to try and kill her. When nothing did, she hurriedly moved to Ritchie's room.

When she got to the hall bathroom she cringed. She had to shove the crowbar into the wall and pry a couple of the shower tiles off to get to the drywall. That was going to be a bitch to repair, but she figured Jenny would rather be safe in her house and have to retile her bathroom than not.

She'd moved through the upstairs quicker than she'd thought. It almost seemed like she'd be able to get it all done without having any problems.

Almost.

She was kneeling on the floor in Jenny's bedroom about to stab the crowbar through the flowery wallpaper when she was smashed in the back with a heavy ceramic lamp. The impact dropped her to the floor, little shards of ceramic scratching at her neck and arms. Her shotgun had gone skidding across the hardwood floor and she scrambled for it.

Her fingers just barely brushed the worn wooden stock when a thick electrical cord whipped itself around her neck and yanked her onto her back.

She couldn't breathe. The cord was wrapped three times around her neck and it was squeezing so tight she could barely get her fingers between it and her skin. She tugged and pulled strained, but it wouldn't budge. In fact it just got tighter. It was a blink from cutting all of her air supply and her mind was a mess of jabbering panic.

Distantly Jess could hear a frightened scream from downstairs in the basement and a clatter of silverware from the kitchen.

She had to breathe. She had to get that hex bag in the wall. She had to not to let Dean down. She had to freaking breathe!

She couldn't even grab for her knife to try to slice through cord because if she even moved her fingers for a second she knew the cord was like to take her head clean off. There were black spots in her vision, her lungs were burning, and her mind was so full of panic she was just screaming inside.

When the cord finally cut off her air supply entirely her body went limp and all she could think about was that she failed and Dean would die.

She came-to held upright against Dean's chest sucking in air like it was going out of style. He had an arm around her shoulders keeping her pressed against him and his other hand cradling the back of her head keeping it steady.

"Jeeze, Jess. Just breathe. You're okay. Just breathe with me."

Jess sucked in a painful breath the motion making her throat ache. "I'm okay." She gasped. "I'm okay."

Dean pulled back his eyes flicking over her face, his palm warm against her cheek. "Take deep breaths. Slowly."

She made an effort to do as he said and stop herself from panting. It helped. The fog lifted from her head and she started to shake, shock getting to her. Fisting her hands in Dean's shirt, Jess forcibly pushed down the lingering effects of her panic.

"Did we get it? Is it over?"

A gust of air escaped Dean, his shoulders loosening and his stiff hold on her eased. He made sure she was steady sitting up on her own and pulled away. "Yeah. I kicked a hole in the wall. There was a flash of bright light and poof, no more poltergeist."

He nodded toward the boot sized hole in the wall smirking. Jess could tell the expression was fake.

Rubbing a shaky had over her throat she gave him a forced grin. "Good. Breath play isn't really my thing."

Dean burst out in surprised laughter. Jess's grin turned real and she gave a croaky chuckle as well.

"Come on." Getting to his feet, amusement still alight in his eyes, Dean reached down and pulled her up. "Let's go check on Missouri. Make sure it's really done."

Jess was a little unsteady on her feet and Dean let her lean on him as they made their way down the stairs. Missouri met them at the bottom a little out of breath.

"Whoo. I don't want to do that again anytime soon." She put a hand on her hip and wiped some dust from her forehead.

Jess snorted and shook her head.

"I hear ya', sister." Dean grinned at her.

Everyone was relatively unharmed. Dean had a sharp slice across his cheek and Missouri had a limp, and not to mention the truly spectacular bruising starting to appear around Jess's throat, but they were all in one piece.

They wandered into the kitchen and Jess got a look at it. It looked like a bomb had gone off. There was food spilled all over, the table was on its side pin cushioned with kitchen knives, not to mention the mine field of shattered dishes on the floor.

"Well, this is lovely."

Missouri snorted and pointed at Dean. "Boy, you're going be cleaning every last inch of this kitchen. Just look at this mess." She tisked.

Dean looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"You're the one that made it. And don't cuss at me," she snapped at him.

And Jess was just so done. Her throat hurt, she was tired, and she was still slightly shocky from her most recent brush with death. Missouri had officially worn out Jess's dwindling well of patience. Dean was hers and damned if she was going to let a self-righteous know-it-all psychic treat him with any less respect than he deserved.

"That is it." She angrily rounded on Missouri. "Not one more disparaging word to him or you won't like what I'll do to you."

Missouri's eyes widened and there was a flash of defiance in her expression.

Jess narrowed her eyes. "Just try it, lady. I dare you."

There was a tense silence while they stared each other down. Jess gave no ground, her protectiveness of Dean flaming in her eyes. Missouri caved first.

"I've been told I'm a little abrasive."

Jess sneered. "No shit."

Missouri looked at her for a long moment, held her gaze again like she could see everything that went through Jess's mind. Which she could.

Her face softened and regret came into her eyes. She turned to Dean.

"I'm sorry, Dean." She gave him a small smile. "I shouldn't be so hard on you. You're a good man and you don't deserve that."

Jess could read every ounce of sincerity on Missouri's face. The woman wasn't hiding anything from them, her feelings were out on display as if they were the mind readers.

It went a long way to cooling Jess's temper. She liked the woman, wanted to foster a friendship with her, but she wouldn't stand for any threat to Dean. Even if it was just the threat of some harsh words.

Dean on the other hand looked like he didn't know whether to be shocked by Jess's outburst or uncomfortable with Missouri's apology.

In the end he just nodded acceptance and murmured, "Thank you."

Missouri smiled at him again and nodded back. She looked at Jess waiting for her judgment.

Jess's lips quirked up and she nodded as well in forgiveness. "I'd like to be friends, Missouri. I think if you keep a civil tongue in your head we can be."

Missouri's face lightened and she grinned. "I'd like that too, honey."

The rest of the evening was spent cleaning up the kitchen and duct taping cardboard over the holes in the walls. Jenny had come home twenty minutes after Jess had put the call out. She looked so relieved that it was all over she didn't even care about the devastation in her kitchen.

It was well past Sairie and Ritchie's bed time by the time the kitchen was in relative order and Jenny was ushering the three of them out the door.

"Thank you so much."

"It's nothing, darling," Missouri assured her. "We're just happy we could help."

"Still, are you sure there isn't anything I can do to repay you?"

Jess put a hand on Jenny's arm and squeezed in comfort. "This is what we do. We help people."

Jenny took a deep breath and finally nodded. "Well, thanks again."

Dean was almost to the porch steps with Missouri leaning on his arm when he turned back.

"Jenny, keep our numbers and if anything comes up, if you need our help again, don't hesitate to call."

Her eyes were soft on Dean and she nodded. "I will."

Dean and Jess escorted Missouri back to the Impala in companionable silence. All of them were a little achy but satisfied with a successful hunt.

Jess didn't say anything about the sad wistful look Dean shot back at the house before he pulled away from the curb and drove away.

---

Their motel room was oppressively silent when they finally got back. Jess didn't bother to take her boots off before she flopped down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Dean had gone straight to the bathroom and turned the water on to start scrubbing clean the few cuts he'd gotten from the flying cutlery. Jess concentrated on her deep breathing through the stiff soreness of her throat listening to sound of him moving around in the bathroom.

She'd meditated herself into a daze so when a wet ice cold beer bottle was pressed against her neck she jerk up with a surprised yelp.

"Fuck! That's cold!" She snatched the bottle away from him and glared accusingly.

Dean just waved a hand and went to grab up their first aid kit. "The cold will keep the swelling down. Keep it there."

Jess, still frowning sullenly, pressed the bottle back to her bruised neck.

Dropping the first aid kit on the bed next to her, Dean popped it open and reached for her with the wet washcloth he'd had in his other hand. She flinched away from him but he just chased her and started scrubbing at the little scrapes and nicks across her right cheek and neck.

"Hold still. Gotta get 'em clean and make sure there's no lamp still stuck in them."

She grumbled but did as she was told, switching sides with the beer bottle when he moved down to scrubbing at her arm. The cold was helping numb the ache and she was breathing a little easier without the constant tightening. When Dean pulled out the rubbing alcohol and started swabbing it over the little wounds, Jess didn't even flinch.

Over the months on the road she'd gotten used to the sting of alcohol on an open wound.

Dean collapsed back on his own bed when he was satisfied she wasn't going to die from infected nicks and scrapes. Jess lay back down on her bed as well and they both just stared up at the ceiling blankly.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Jess broke the silence.

"On a scale of one to fuck-we're-dead, how bad was that poltergeist?"

Dean thought for a second. "I give it a five point nine. It didn't do much structural damage, but the guy with his hand in the disposal gets extra points."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Jess nodded. "But it was still pretty bad."

"You should have seen Jerry Panowski's poltergeist. That thing was literally pulling up the floor boards and bursting pipes in the walls."

"Yeah, that sounds worse than getting strangled by a lamp cord."

Dean turned his head to look at her his expression dark. "There is nothing worse than you getting strangled by a lamp cord."

Jess's stomach flipped and she turned her gaze back up to the ceiling. "Thanks, by the way. For saving me."

There was a shift of fabric on fabric like Dean was shrugging. "You're my partner," he said. "Of course I wasn't gonna let you get killed by a crappy Kmart lamp. It would ruin my reputation."

Jess snorted and switched sides with her beer bottle again. It was starting to get warm, but she wasn't ready to get up and get a new one just yet.

"Well, don't worry. Your reputation is fully intact."

Suddenly Jess's pocket started to vibrate and ring. Dropping the beer bottle to the mattress cover, she struggled to pull her phone out of her tiny, girl jean pocket. She glanced at the caller I.D. and a spike of adrenaline hit her.

She flipped it open quickly.

"Missouri?"

"You need to get back to Jenny's house, Jess," Missouri said urgently. "Somehow we didn't get rid of it and it's going to kill them!"

Jess snapped the phone shut without responding and jumped off the bed. "We have to go back!" She jogged to the door, Dean already following without needing to be told. "It's still there."

Cursing, Dean slammed the motel door behind them and jumped into the Impala revving the engine and speeding away.

They made it to Jenny's house in record time. When they pulled up in front they could see Jenny on the second floor banging on her bedroom window and screaming. Dean and Jess were out of the car almost before the engine had even turned off.

Running up the front yard, Dean overtook Jess and barreled through the front door with his shoulder without stopping.

"I'll get Jenny! You get the kids!" Dean yelled as he bounded up the stairs Jess not three feet behind him.

She skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs in front of Ritchie's room she burst into the room and found the little boy standing up in his crib with tears down his cheeks. Grabbing Ritchie up, Jess held him on her hip cradling the back of his head with her hand.

Darting across the hall, she heard a gunshot from the end of the hallway but she didn't slow down. She knew Dean would get Jenny out.

She shoved the door to Sairie's room open and stumbled to a halt. There standing at the end of Sairie's bed was a figure on fire. It was in the shape of a human, she could see in the split second she was staring at it in shock, and it was completely engulfed in flames.

A whimper snapped her back to attention. Sairie was sitting up in her bed, crying, her eyes pinned on the figure burning up in the middle of her room.

"Sairie!" Jess edged into the room, keeping her eyes on the figure she reached out her free hand toward the little girl. "Sairie, come on. We gotta go!"

Jumping, Sairie lunged out of her bed and grabbed onto Jess's hand like a lifeline.

Pulling the girl behind her, Jess edged sideways back toward the door still watching the figure as it turned to watch them. It didn't move until they got to the door then it took a step forward. She didn't wait to see it move again, she turned around and ran down the stairs as fast she could with a little girl holding onto her hand and a little boy wrapped around her torso.

They hit the bottom and Jess took a step toward the door when she felt her legs freeze up and a chill race up her spine.

"Sairie," she pried Ritchie off her and shoved him at his sister. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can." Something grabbed her ankles and her eyes widened. "Go, Sairie! Go."

She didn't even get to see if the little girl followed her order because the thing that had her ankles yanked her to the floor and dragged her back into the house. The sound of the door slamming reached her ears before it swung her around and sent her flying into some cabinets.

Outside Dean stood with his hands gripping Jenny's arms to keep her from running back into the house after her kids. His heart was racing and the adrenaline was keeping all of his senses sharp. He was on a pin's head as it was from this whole fucked up hunt and the fact that Jess hadn't beat them out of the house was just making it all that much more scary.

When he saw Sairie and Ritchie run out of the house without Jess, he felt his gut clench.

"Sairie, where's Jess?"

"It took her!" Sairie cried. "It dragged her away."

The front door slammed shut with a bang and Dean felt his face go cold as all the blood drained out of it. Straightening up, he turned on his heel and skidded across the lawn to the Impala. He almost gouged the paint job with the trunk key as he hurried to get it unlocked.

It didn't take more than a second before he had a shotgun in one hand and an ax in the other. He ran through the small group of neighbors on the lawn drawn toward the disturbance and jumped the stairs up to the porch. Dropping the gun, he gripped the ax with both hands and swung it as hard as he could.

The blade sunk in an inch and he didn't pause between swings. Distantly he could hear the shouts of alarm from the people gathered on the lawn crowding around Jenny and the kids, but he was solely focused on chopping down the fucking door to get to Jess.

He swore nothing was going to happen to Jess. He'd dragged her out of a fire from underneath his brother's burning body, he protected her in the hospital, taught her how to survive the life of a hunter. He resisted eating a bullet because she needed him. He needed her just as much if not more than she needed him.

Hacking away at the door, Dean gritted his teeth and sped up as the first slivers of the entranceway could be seen through the wood.

Jessica had saved him. She made life worth living again. She was his partner, his friend. She was his family.

A fucking poltergeist haunting his old childhood home was going to take her away from him over his dead body.

He dropped the ax when the lower half of the door started falling away and kicked the rest of the way through with his boot. Snatching up his shotgun again he stooped down through the opening shouting into the dark house.

"Jess! Jessica!"

A scream and the sounds of a body and furniture being tossed around came from the back of the house.

"Dean!"

"I'm coming!" He pounding down the hall through the house and bounced off a wall when he tried to take the sharp turn into the living and dining room.

Jess was curling into herself with her arms up trying to protect her head while shards of china and glass from the china cabinet flew around her.

Dean raised the shot gun. "Jessica, down!"

She dropped, a blast of rock salt above her head and the china and glass fell out of the air. The chairs and wood from the cabinet scattered around the room began shaking furiously as Jess raised her head looking at Dean with wide frightened eyes.

He made to move toward her as she tried to scramble to stand, but suddenly a chair slammed into Dean knocking him off his feet.

Hitting the floor painfully on his shoulder, Dean rolled on his belly and tried to get to his feet again. Somehow he'd kept ahold of his shotgun so when another chair came flying toward him he angled his wrist and pulled the trigger. The shot made his ears ring but it stopped the chair from smashing over his head.

Jess called his name in fear and he jerked his head around in time to see the dining room table slide across the floor and hit her in stomach hard enough to knock her back into the wall. It pinned her there. Her breath whooshed out of her with the impact and she scrabbled her hands against the edge trying futilely to shove it away.

"Dean!" She sounded half suffocated darting panicked frantic looks at him. "I'm stuck!"

Cursing under his breath he released the empty shotgun and shoved himself to his feet. He had made it three feet toward Jess when the burning figure turned the corner and stepped into the room. His heart was pounding. His fear for Jess and his drive to protect her had him reflexively pulling out his pistol and aiming it at the figure, his gaze hard.

It turned its burning head toward him but before he could pull the trigger it started to change. It was like a gust of wind blew the flames away to reveal a beautiful blond woman in a long white nightgown looking at him with soft blue eyes.

Dean lowered his gun in shock. "Mom?"

He didn't think he could breathe.

Jess stared from Dean to the ghost of the woman in flames and tried to force words out with the table still pressing her diaphragm into her spine.

"Dean? Is that…"

"My mom," he breathed in awe.

The woman, Mary, smiled softly at Dean and flickered closer in that eerie way spirits had. Jess's chest hitched and her eyes widened.

Mary's gentle blue eyes were staring at Dean like he was of one the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.

"Dean," she murmured tenderly, her voice had an echo.

Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman that gave birth to him, that held him when he cried, always told him she loved him. He blinked hard trying to keep the tears in his eyes from blurring her image.

It felt like his chest was too tight for his heart to keep beating.

Mary's gaze slid past Dean and landed on Jess still pinned to the wall watching the scene with wariness and awe.

She took a step toward Jess her image flickering forward until she was standing next to the table keeping Jess in place. Dean's eyes followed her like a flower to the sun.

Jess looked at the woman standing in front of her. She was beautiful; soft lips, freckles across her nose and cheeks, high cheekbones, and long wavy hair. Jess could see Sam in her chin and brow, but it was obvious that he took more after John. Dean looked so much like his mom it was startling.

Mary ran her gaze over Jess's face and gave her just as gentle a smile as she's given Dean.

"Thank you," she murmured, gratitude reflected in her clear blue eyes.

Jess's heart clenched and she held the woman's gaze in confusion. "For what?"

Mary just smiled a little sadly and glanced back to her son who was watching them like he couldn't believe his eyes, like he was afraid to blink.

"I'm sorry," she murmured pain and regret in her voice. Then she looked away.

She moved flickering every other step to the center of the room and looked up at the ceiling with an expression of righteous fury on her face.

"You let go of my son's girl," she ordered. "And get out of my house."

Dean and Jess watched with wide eyes as Mary Winchester burst into flames and exploded into the ceiling disappearing without leaving behind a mark.

Suddenly the table against Jess's belly shifted back with a scrape on the wood floor and she could take a full breath again.

She shoved it away from her and stumbled toward Dean grabbing his arm tightly.

"Dean?"

Slowly, as if in a daze Dean looked away from the spot on the ceiling where Mary had disappeared and back down to Jess.

"I think it's over," he said voice rough and green eyes still glistening. "I think she destroyed it."

Jess dropped her forehead to Dean's shoulder and breathed slow, fine tremors running through her body. They stood silently together in the middle of the chaos strewn dining room until firefighters broke down the rest of the door and burst into the room.

---

Jenny, Sairie, and Richie were safe. Their house was poltergeist free and they knew they would never forget their saviors for the rest of their lives.

The grateful smile on Jenny's face as she watched them climb into the Impala and drive off would stay in Jess's mind for a long time to come. The almost painfully tight hug Sairie gave her around her bruised middle and the childishly thankful offer of a juice box from Richie were what made the entire horrifying case worth it.

It was the look on Dean's face, however, as they drove away from the old house that made Jess ache with satisfaction.

The ever present shadows that haunted his expressions, darkened his eyes, and made the lines and creases of his face stand out too starkly for a man in his twenties, had lessened. His shoulders were loose and his hands were light on the steering wheel. His elbow was propped up on his window and he was stretched in his seat relaxed in a way he hadn't been since they'd gotten that ominous phone call.

Jess studied him surreptitiously from her seat. Maybe it was the satisfaction of saving a young family, or the gratifying success of banishing a poltergeist. Or maybe it was that Dean had found a measure of closure from this utterly fucked up case.

She didn't know if it was possible to find closure when your mother had been burned on the ceiling by an unknown evil, when your entire life changed in the course of a night, when your dead mother destroyed herself saving you from a murderous spirit.

But looking at Dean, at the relaxed expression on his face and the comfortable sprawl in the driver's seat as he guided his only home down the blacktop highway, Jess knew she would be forever thankful for this utterly fucked up case.

The Impala gave a small bounce over a bump in the road causing the wooden box on the backseat to creak. Jess turned and looked at it debating with herself whether she wanted to open that potential can of worms. It was almost like an itch beneath her skin, the want to see what the Winchester family at been like once upon a time.

"Go ahead." Dean shifted in his seat and gave Jess a little smirk. "I know you want to."

That was all the permission she needed. Stretching over the seatback she hefted the heavy box with a strained grunt.

Falling back into her seat with the box in her lap, Jess flipped the lid open without fanfare and stared at the contents. It was a picture of a little boy in a recliner holding a little baby. Dean and Sam.

Her throat tightened up for a moment then she swallowed thickly and pushed it all back down. She turned to Dean brandishing the photo.

"I didn't realize your hair was so blond."

He took a quick glance at the picture and snorted. "Why do you think I keep it short? Looked like a damn pretty boy with all that wavy blond hair."

Jess looked back down at the photo grinning. Picking up another picture she looked at it and laughed. She held it up for Dean's perusal.

"Well, with eyelashes like that, who wouldn't think you were pretty?"

It was school portrait of him for preschool and sure enough you could see his annoyingly long eyelashes. He snatched it away from her and tossed it in the backseat scowling.

"Shut up. It's not like yours are much better."

Jess just chuckled and went back to perusing the photographic evidence of a happier time. She decided not to mention that since she was, in fact, a girl she was expected to have delicate features. She didn't think Dean would have appreciated that.

---

Missouri stood at her living room window and watched the hummingbirds flitter around the feeder hanging from her porch. She felt the presence of Jess and Dean's cracked, battered, but unbreakable souls get farther and farther away.

"Why your daddy didn't let them know he was here, I don't know." She turned away from the window and regarded the spirit in her living room shrewdly.

Sam Winchester shrugged, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Who knows with him. I stopped trying to figure him out a long time ago."

"You know John loves you boys something fierce."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean he's not a dick."

Missouri huffed at him. "Boy, don't you talk about your father that way."

"I'm dead, Missouri. It's not like I can piss him off anymore."

Missouri sighed and moved back toward her armchair. Sitting down she lifted her mug of tea from the coffee table and took a sip.

Sam followed flopping down on the couch and stretching out propping his feet up on the coffee table. Missouri lifted an eyebrow and him and he quickly dropped them back to the floor with a sheepish smile. She went back to her tea.

"Sam," Missouri spoke up after a moment of quiet. "Why didn't you want me to tell them you were here? I know they would have dearly wanted to talk to you."

Looking down at his hands in his lap, Sam frowned. "I know they would."

"Then why have me keep it a secret?" She pressed. "You're the one that had me call them about the thing in your old house."

Sam took a deep breath and looked back up at her, sadness in his eyes.

"Because they would have wanted me to go with them," he said quietly. "They would have forgotten all that they'd been through together, they would have forgotten all they are to each other now, how much they have healed. Because they would have wanted to be with me."

Missouri's heart ached for him. "Oh, honey."

He shrugged and gave her a self-deprecating smirk. "They're not ready to know I've still been around."

"You must miss them something terrible," she offered, gazing at him in sympathy.

"God yeah," Sam breathed, feeling though it was no longer corporeal, like his heart was breaking. "I miss them so fucking much."

Missouri decided to let the language slide and smiled understandingly. "But you love them more."

He gave a strained chuckle and nodded. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he looked back at her and smiled wryly.

"But I love them more."

---

TBC…