Hey, guys! So, I know MJ was sort of absent from the first chapter and she's not really in this one either, but she'll be back soon:) The next chapter is coming along nicely so it should be up soon. Happy reading!

Chapter 2

"Well, we're about to find out because the results are in!" Sam heard Maury's announcement blaring from the living room TV as he strode by, making him stop in his tracks and take a step back. He peeked into the room to see two sets of socked feet propped on the old, scuffed coffee table. He took a step into the room as MJ sat up on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

"I'm telling you, Shaun is the daddy. Baby looks just like him." Dean argued, before taking a drink of his beer.

MJ shushed him with a wave of her hand as Maury peeled the envelope open.

"When it comes to 9 month old Jaden, Shaun you are not the father." Maury's proclamation was met with uproarious applause and shouts from the audience.

Sam drew level with the couch, eyeing his brother and sister incredulously.

"Damn it!" Dean grumbled digging his wallet out of his back pocket and putting a ten dollar bill in MJ's outstretched hand.

"Told ya." MJ said with a triumphant smirk, pocketing her winnings before looking up at Sam. "Where's the pizza?" she asked him. Dean looked up expectantly.

Sam just looked back at the screen. "Are you guys seriously watching this crap?" He asked looking back at them and fixing Dean with a 'you're kidding, right?' look.

"I'm not just watching. I'm taking Dean's money." MJ said eyes still on the TV as the mistaken mother ran crying from the stage while her fiancé did a celebratory dance for the audience.

"Alright," Dean said sitting up straighter. "Double or nothing Shaun forgives her, they kiss and make up and go home together."

MJ was shaking her head before he'd finished speaking. "You're on. Shaun is walking for sure."

Dean looked up at his brother. "Seriously, dude, where's the pizza?"

Sam just walked out of the room, shaking his head. He returned with the pizza he'd picked up and, of course, Dean's pie and they ate in front of the TV. Bobby had left on a hunt earlier that day, so it was just the three of them. Dean and Sam hadn't really spoken since this morning's blow up, but were cordial enough toward each other that MJ didn't seem to notice. After Maury ended and MJ had collected all of her winnings from a less than thrilled Dean, they watched Clint Eastwood movies while Dean polished off the remaining pie. Somewhere in the middle of Dirty Harry MJ passed out, leaning on Dean's shoulder.

Dean nudged her awake gently as the movie ended. "Time to hit the hay, kiddo." He said quietly.

MJ stirred and stood up, stretching. She kissed her brothers goodnight and headed upstairs as Sam began cleaning up. Dean stood with his hands in his pockets, hesitating.

"Listen Sammy-"

"Look, Dean," Sam cut him off. "I get where you're coming from. I do." He straightened up, walking toward the kitchen. "And I'll go along with you on this one." He placed the dirty dishes in the sink before turning to face Dean. "But you can't shelter her from everything. Not forever." Sam stood facing Dean, arms crossed over his chest. "And if it comes down to it and we've exhausted every other option, then we have to get her to talk."

Sam knew his brother well enough to know he'd never back down on this, so he wasn't going to fight it, but he was definitely going to make sure Dean knew he didn't agree with him.

At first Dean just stared back. "Fair enough." He finally agreed. He went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. "But in the meantime, I got a plan." He turned handing Sam a beer before opening his own and settling in one of the kitchen chairs. He motioned for Sam to join him. He waited until Sam was seated across from him to continue. "We gotta find Jenna and Wendy. See what they know about this demon and what it wanted with MJ."

"The demon's dead. How could its plans for MJ still put her in danger?" Sam asked calmly.

Dean shook his head his eyes wide and his face determined. "I don't know, but it's a place to start. Dad said there were still threats and if you and Bobby's…theory about her is right, then it seems like we should start at the source. We gotta find out why he was so hell bent on having her."

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I just don't know if you're gonna get the answers you're looking for this way, Dean."

Dean stood and began pacing the kitchen. Sam followed his movements with his eyes.

"I don't know either, Sam." He said throwing his hands up in frustration. "But I can't do nothing. And this is the only lead we got."

Dean could clearly read Sam's expression, knew he was thinking "not the only lead". Dean's face reddened. Sam, knowing Dean was about to light into him again, put a hand up in surrender.

"Okay." Sam placated. "I can find Jenna. And as far as we know Wendy's still in Chicago. But Dean, do you think bringing MJ around her mother is a good idea?"

Dean stopped, looking down at Sam. "No. Which is why she's staying here with you. I'm going alone."

Sam scoffed. "Screw that, I'm going with you, Dean." Sam said, standing up. "MJ can stay with Bobby."

"Sam, the whole point of this is to keep MJ safe. And as far as I'm concerned, she's only safe when she's with us." He said pointing between them. "Until we get some answers, we don't trust anybody." Dean said turning away from his brother.

Sam took a step toward him. "Dean, I know we gotta be cautious here, but Bobby?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

Dean turned back toward his brother. "Bobby doesn't know anything about what Dad said and we're keeping it that way." Dean lowered his voice, his expression almost desperate. "The fewer people who know about this the better. It's not gonna sit well with hunters that she's got these…visions or whatever."

Sam was quiet for a moment before reluctantly nodding, thinking of his own abilities and knowing Dean was right. They hadn't told a soul about his visions. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, not to mention the fact that she's some kind of demon spawn, people hear that and they'll shoot first and ask questions later." He mused darkly.

Dean stiffened slightly. "You know I don't like you calling her that." He lightly chastised. He knew Sam didn't mean anything by it, but the word spawn…it grated on Dean. "I do trust Bobby. I just think for now we keep this one to ourselves." Dean sighed heavily, sitting back down in his vacated seat. "The only way I can do this is if I know she's with you. Otherwise I can't leave her at all." He looked up, eyes pleading with his younger brother. "With Dad gone…we're all we've got."

Sam couldn't argue with that logic. Dean's mention of their father brought a question to the forefront of Sam's mind. He'd been thinking about it since Dean's confession that morning. Sam sat down, resting his arms on the table. "Dean," he started quietly, not wanting to antagonize his brother any further. "You sure Dad didn't say anything else…anything about me?"

Dean held his brother's gaze for a moment before replying. "I'm sure, Sammy. Sorry." He answered simply as he stood back up.

Sam looked down, nodding.

"Now let's find Jenna." Dean said, clapping his hands together.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The door opened a crack, Jenna's eye peeking out before she quickly slammed it shut again.

Dean sighed, knocking again.

"Go fuck yourself, Dean Winchester!" She called through the door. He heard the chain lock sliding home.

"Come on, Jenna. I just need to talk to you. Please." There was nothing but silence from the other side of the door. Dean ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "I drove all the way to Georgia from South Dakota. I'd rather not have this conversation with your front door, but I will!" He looked around at the well-manicured lawns and expensive cars in the neighboring driveways. There were a few people out doing yard work. "I'm guessing you don't want me to air our dirty laundry in front of your neighbors." He called loudly, winking at the woman two houses down who was looking at him curiously, garden hose in hand.

Jenna opened the door and stood in the doorway, one hand on the door, ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice. "We" she said pointing between them, "don't have any dirty laundry, Dean." She fixed him with an icy glare.

Dean shrugged. "Technically, no," He conceded, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "But I doubt your brother wants his neighbors to hear mention of his sister's involvement with demons." It was a low blow, Dean knew. But he was desperate.

Jenna glared at him for another moment before stepping aside to let him in. Dean sauntered inside, letting out a low whistle as he took in the entryway. "Nice digs. What does your brother do again?"

"How did you find me here?" She asked eyeing him suspiciously as he continued to look around the house, seemingly intrigued.

He turned to her with a smirk. "It's kinda what I do, remember?" He asked. He was the picture of calm and confidence, but Jenna knew better.

Jenna closed the door. "He's a contractor." She answered his question as she crossed her arms. "Now what the hell do you want, Dean?"

Dean paused, looking her in the eye for a moment. "I need your help." He tried, thinking a straight forward approach might work best.

Her eyes widened. "Oh." She nearly laughed. "You need my help? Why didn't you say, so?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air. "Of course, I'll help you out. Why wouldn't I?" She was practically shouting now as she stared him dead in the eye. Behind the anger Dean could see the fear in her eyes. "I lost my job! My reputation." She shook her head, taking another step toward him. "I was attacked by a crazy…" She paused, struggling to find the right word, "person because of you!" She yelled arms crossed over her chest. "I'm just dying to help you out!"

"Who's this guy?" Dean turned toward the entryway from the kitchen and saw a man about Sammy's height- and twice his width- staring down at him. Dean knew this was Jenna's brother. He looked a lot like Jenna. Same nose, square jaw, and right now, same pissed off look in his eyes. He took a step into the entryway, eyes on his sister as he jerked his thumb in Dean's direction. "Is this jerk off the reason you had to leave Chicago?" He asked.

He clearly intended his question to be intimidating to Dean as he moved to stand enxt to Jenna. Dean rolled his eyes. He really didn't have time for this crap.

"No, Sean. It's fine, really." Jenna tried, shaking her head.

But judging from the look Sean was now sending Dean's way, he had heard Jenna's rant. "Did this joker hire someone to attack you?" Sean asked as he adjusted his stance so he was standing in front of his sister, blocking her from Dean's view as he pointed over his shoulder at Dean.

Jenna was shaking her head furiously. "No, Sean, you misunderstood."

Dean took a step toward them. "Hey, who you callin' a joker?" He asked, agitated. He really didn't like what this guy was suggesting.

Jenna looked around her brother's massive form at Dean. "Not helping, Dean." She chastised, as Sean turned away from her to come face to face with Dean.

"What kind of sick, twisted son of a bitch are you?" Sean demanded hands balled into fists at his sides.

Dean stood his ground, sighing. "I never hurt your sister, pal. Just calm down." He said evenly. He really didn't want to go around with this guy.

"Don't tell me to calm down! You got 10 seconds to get your pansy ass off my property before I pump it full of lead!" He threatened, jabbing a finger into Dean's chest.

"Pansy?" Dean asked, all pretense of calmness forgotten, now toe to toe with Sean.

"Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa." Jenna wedged herself between the two men, trying and failing to push them apart. "Knock it off, both of you!"

They seethed at each other over her head as she looked between them.

"Dean, I think you should go."

Dean just looked down at her as Sean took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for Dean to leave.

"Please." She added, not quite meeting his eye.

Dean felt his stomach flip at the clearly pained look on Jenna's face. Guilt swept over him as he turned toward the door. He knew that just being here was making everything worse for Jenna…but MJ…

Dean stopped, turning back toward her, hoping Sean didn't have his gun on him.

"It's for MJ. Just hear me out, I'm begging you."

It took some persuading by Jenna for Sean to allow Dean to be alone with her. He settled on letting them sit on the patio by the pool while he watched from the sliding glass door.

Dean looked around the yard, not sure how to begin, not really looking at Jenna sitting across from him, dark sunglasses over her eyes. "This is a nice place…hotter than hell, but nice."

"Cut to the chase, Dean." She ordered, her legs crossed and her foot bouncing up and down impatiently.

Dean looked up at her face. He didn't like those glasses at all. It was stupid to cover up those eyes…he shook his head, focusing on his purpose for being here. "I need to know what you know about the demon's plans for MJ."

Jenna's foot stilled and even though he couldn't see her eyes he knew she was staring back at him. She said nothing.

Dean leaned over the small table toward her. "I know it's probably the last thing you wanna talk about, but I have to know. I can't keep her safe if I don't know."

Jenna heaved a sigh, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. She was silent for another minute or two before speaking, her gaze cast downward, making her dark blonde hair fall like a curtain over her face. She spoke to the ground.

"I'll tell you what I…saw. I can't make sense of all of it, but I'll tell you what I remember."

"That's all I'm asking." Dean encouraged, his eyes glued to her.

Jenna took a deep breath, pausing for several moments before finally speaking. "When he was inside of me it was like…like his thoughts were my thoughts. Like I was working out my next move, but at the same time I was…horrified at the plans I-" she grunted in frustration, sitting back in her chair and impatiently shoving her hair back behind her ear. "I mean he was making."

"What kind of plans?" Dean tried to keep his voice calm, his demeanor casual. He knew he had to be patient with her, and truthfully he felt horribly guilty that she had endured that kind of horror, but he was so close to having some answers, it was hard not to rush her.

Jenna gripped the arms of her chair, taking another deep breath. "He wanted to find MJ. He wanted you to bring her to him." She barely whispered and Dean found himself leaning forward even further toward her.

"What did he want her for?" Dean asked urgently.

Jenna uncrossed her legs, relinquishing her death grip on the armrests and fiddling with the hem of her skirt. That's when Dean finally noticed how badly her hands were shaking. Dean's gaze shifted to her face and he saw her lower lip trembling violently.

"Um," she started, her voice breaking.

Dean was up, moving toward her, crouching in front of her in a flash. "Hey." He soothed, taking her hands in his without hesitation. "It's okay. Take a breath. Relax." Holding both her hands in his left, he reached up with his right hand slowly removing the sunglasses. Her eyes were red and swimming with unshed tears. She was determinedly looking anywhere but at Dean.

Dean heaved a sigh, getting to his feet and pulling his chair over next to hers. She continued to studiously avoid his gaze.

"Listen, I didn't mean to be so...pushy about this. It's just when it comes to MJ…I guess I didn't even stop to think about how awful this was for you." He paused, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry to make you hash it all out again."

Jenna sniffed, still not looking at him. "I want to help you, Dean. I really do. I just…whatever this thing is…whatever it did to me…it fucked with my head. And that," She stood up, pacing the patio angrily, "pisses me off, Dean." She shook her head, pointing a finger at him. "I mean it really pisses me off." She stopped, facing him, pointed back at herself. "My life is literally destroyed because of him and the kicker is I don't even know who…or what the fucker is!"

Dean just stared silently back at her, his face expressionless.

Jenna stood there another moment, chest heaving and face red with anger. Finally, when she knew he wouldn't answer she returned to her chair, seeming somehow deflated and tired. "I just…I don't want to be afraid anymore."

Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees watching her angrily wipe the tears from her face. "I never wanted you to get involved in all of this. I mean that."

"I know." She said quietly, letting out a shaky breath.

"If it's any consolation, the demon who possessed you is gone. He can't hurt you or anyone else ever again."

Jenna just stared back at Dean, a pensive look on her face. She said nothing.

Dean looked down, shaking his head. "I wish I could tell you he was the only one, but there's plenty more like him out there."

Jenna matched his posture, leaning forward. His chair was so close to hers her forearm grazed his where it rested on her leg. "And that's what you do for a living? Track down demons and kill them?" Jenna guessed.

Dean took a deep breath. "Something like that."

"And MJ," She hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. "She's…different? They think she's special." She barely whispered it.

Dean's eyes were trained on her, his heart beating rapidly. "What did you see, Jenna?" He asked quietly.

She turned away from Dean, her eyes unfocused, looking out over the pool, clearly seeing the images the demon had planted in her mind. "He wanted to change her. He knew if he could get her to trust him, he could make her do things for him. He thought she was really powerful. Unstoppable. He envisioned himself…winning, but I don't know what he was winning…or who he was winning against." She swallowed, her forehead scrunching up in concentration. "The MJ he pictured…she wasn't our MJ. She was angry and… destructive." She turned toward Dean, focusing once again on his face. He saw anguish in her eyes. And fear. "She could kill with her mind, Dean." She said the words broken as a sob escaped her lips. "I watched her kill and not because he made her, but because she wanted to."

Dean stared back at her, frozen in shock and disbelief.

She brushed a tear off her face. "It's like she wasn't human, Dean." She whispered.

Dean composed himself, clearing his throat and shoving the panic down. "Listen" He said urgently, taking hold of her hand. She looked up at him, a pained expression on her face. "What you saw." He shook his head determinedly. "That's not gonna happen. I'm not gonna let it. MJ's not changing, okay?"

She nodded, making attempts to regain her composure. She sat up straight, pulling her hair back, away from her face. After a moment, she let out a humorless laugh. "No wonder you lied about what you do. Anyone in their right mind would think you were a complete psycho. Hell, I'm still questioning my own sanity."

Dean stood, still somewhat dazed from what Jenna had described, but trying not to let it show.

"Listen, thanks. I mean, I know this was the last thing you wanted to do, so…just thanks." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Jenna stood, smoothing out her skirt. "Of course. MJ's such a good kid, I just want her to be okay." She said sincerely.

Dean knew she meant it, making him regret getting her involved in all of this that much more. He gave his best attempt at his signature smirk.

"You're a good egg, Cullen. Take care."

He turned to leave when she called after him.

"Dean, listen. I still talk with some of my co-workers. MJ's case has been reassigned. With Wendy back and your father…" She took a tentative step toward him. "I don't think they know he's passed away, but it's a matter of time…" She bit her lip.

Dean tensed. "What are you getting at?"

"Just don't be surprised if you get a phone call soon. In the meantime, I wouldn't stay in any one spot for too long. Make yourselves scarce."

Dean nodded. "That's the general idea." He agreed.

"I'm sorry about your dad." She said, stopping him once again from leaving.

"Thanks." Dean answered, awkwardly, turning back so he was facing her, but keeping his eyes cast downward. No one spoke for a moment, Dean wondering at this woman who despite being possessed by a demon and having to completely uproot her life, despite living in constant paralyzing fear, still managed to put other people first. He looked up at her finally, to be met with caring, sincere eyes. He took a step back toward her, something she'd said earlier stirring in his mind: 'She wasn't our MJ.' Our.

"You really do care about MJ don't you?" he asked her quietly.

She gave him an incredulous look, like this was the stupidest question he could've asked. "Of course." She said simply. "She deserves to be happy. You all do."