Dean held Shaun close to his chest as they walked down the bridge. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said, looking over the edge of the bridge. Shaun pulled her hoodie tighter, shivering from the cold mist of the river below them. "So, you think Dad would've been here?" Sam asked. "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?" Dean walked away from the edge. "Now we keep digging until we find him. It might take a while." Dean replied. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by-"

"Monday, right, the interview, I forgot… you're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?" Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know about you, I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam's look darkened. "No, and she isn't ever going to know." Dean scoffed. "Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want Sammy, but sooner or later you'll have to face up to who you really are."

"And who is that?"

"One of us." Dean held Shaun up for effect, but Sam shot her a glare. "No, I'm not like you guys. This is not gonna be my life!" Sam argued, walking in front of Dean. "Well, you have a responsibility."

"To Dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looked like. And what difference would it make? Even if we find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone." Shaun's eyes widened and she quickly tried to get Sam to shut up. "Sam, don't-"

"And she isn't coming back."

Dean lunged at him, using one hand to pin Sam to a support beam, the other one tightening uncomfortably around Shaun. "Dean-"

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Dean!" Shaun choked out, his fist clenching slightly. He quickly unclenched his fist, lightly rubbing her arm with his thumb in apology. He turned away from Sam, still looking at Shaun, but as soon as he turned around, her focus was elsewhere.

"Dean, Sam.."

Constance stood on the edge of the bridge. They all watched as she jumped off, running over and looking over the edge. "Where'd she go?" Suddenly, they heard an engine. They turned around. "What the…"

"Wh-who's driving the car?" Shaun stuttered. Dean pulled out his keys, eyes never leaving the Impala. Shaun paled. The car began driving towards them. "Go, go, go!" Dean and Sam leaped over the edge of the bridge, Dean holding Shaun close. Shaun still managed to fall out of his grip, and hit the water a little ways away from Dean; but she couldn't swim.

Sam, who had been smart and grabbed onto the edge of the bridge, grunted as he pulled himself up. "Dean!" He called down to the water. Dean emerged, coated in mud. "Are you alright?"

"I'm super. Wait… where's Shaun?!"

"Wasn't she with you?"

"Yeah! Sammy, she can't swim!"

Dean dove back into the water, blindly feeling around. He came up for air, diving back under almost immediately. Finally, he found something soft and slightly warm at the bottom of the river. Shaun's foot had been caught under a rock, and she was still conscious, thrashing around, screaming what looked to be 'DEAN!'. Dean wrapped one hand around her, using the other to remove the rock.

Dean emerged, breathing deeply, and waded over to the shore, quickly running back up to the road, laying Shaun on the hood of the Impala. She began coughing up water, sitting up slowly, shivering like crazy, also covered in mud. "I-I-I-I'll k-k-kill her, I-I-I s-swear.." She muttered angrily, teeth chattering. Dean breathed out laugh.

"I-I-Is the c-car alright?" She asked. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, it's fine now. That Constance chick…" Dean replied. "I-I kn-kn-know! W-What a BITCH!" Shaun yelled. "Well, she definitely didn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So, where's the trail go from here genius?" Dean threw up his hands, slapping them down on his thighs. He looked down, disgusted, at himself; he was covered in mud. This caused Shaun to look down at herself too. "Dude, you smell like a toilet." Sam commented. "P-p-p-pretty sure I do t-t-too.."

"One room please." Dean told the motel clerk, tossing down his credit card. The clerk looked first up at Dean, who was still coated in muck, and then down at the card. "Are you guys having a reunion or something?" He asked. "What do you mean?"

"That other guy, Bert Aframian; he came in and bought out a room for the whole month."

The lock clicked as Sam picked it. Standing up, he opened the door, looking around. He grabbed Dean, who was keeping watch, by the back of his jacket and yanked him into the room, closing the door. Dean looked around, pulling his hand-and Shaun-from his pocket.

The room was trashed; papers and books strewn across the walls and floors and bed, and as Dean turned on the lamp, he spotted a half eaten cheeseburger, which he smelled, and immediately drew away from. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Shaun commented, also catching a whiff of the burger.

Sam stood from the floor after examining a salt circle on the floor. "Salt, cat's eye shells? He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in." Dean walked along the wall, looking over the papers on it. "What do you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean replied. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common..?" Shaun rambled. Sam looked around, an article-actually the same article they had found-on Constance Welch catching his eye. Above it, was a small piece of paper that read "Woman In White". He scoffed lightly in disbelief.

"Dad figured it out."

Dean turned around, walking towards him. "What do you mean?" He asked. Sam looked back at the article. "He found the same article we did; Constance Welch. She's a Woman In White." Dean turned back to the victims on the wall. "You sly dogs...alright, if we're dealing with a Woman In White, Dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness." Sam pointed out. "No, Dad would've wanted to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Sam scanned the wall. "No, not that I can tell." Shaun looked at the caption of Constance's picture. "If I were your Dad, I'd go ask the husband." She supplied. "If he's still alive."

"Alright, why don't you and Shaun see if you can find an address, I'm gonna go clean up." Dean said, heading toward the bathroom and placing Shaun on the desk. "Hey, Dean what I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry-" Dean put a hand up. "No chick-flick moments." Sam scoffed. "Alright...jerk."

"Bitch."

"Shitheads."

They both turned to Shaun. Dean grinned. Shaun blushed, looking back down at her laptop. Dean shook his head and laughed, entering the bathroom. Sam smiled, picking up an old picture of him, Dean, their Dad, and a little Shaun perched on Dean's hat.

Sam listened to Jess's voicemails the next morning, and Shaun was face-down on a pillow, laptop next to her. "Hey man, I'm starving. I'm gonna go grab a little something to eat from that diner down the street, you want anything?" Dean asked, heading toward the door. "No." Sam replied. Dean stopped by Shaun, chuckling lightly. "Shaun, come on." He nudged her with a knuckle gently. "Nooooo, it's too comfortable here." She whined. She didn't sleep, but beds were quite comfortable.

He gently picked her and her laptop up and lowered his hand into his pocket, leaving it there for her. "Are you sure? Aframian's buying." Dean asked Sam. "Mnh-mnh." Dean exited the room. Looking around, he spotted cops, and then a man pointed at him. Turning around, he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, calling Sam. "What?"

"Dude, five-o, take off."

"What about you?"

"They kinda already spotted me. Go find Dad." He hung up, whirling around to face the officers. "Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" One of them asked. "Partner? What-what partner?" Dean asked back. The other officer headed toward their motel room. Shaun fidgeted nervously in Dean's hand, not feeling that the pocket was safe anymore. "Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs."

Dean was slammed into a car hood and handcuffed, his hand leaving Shaun. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." As they searched his pockets, both Dean and Shaun grew intensely nervous. The man patted down the pocket she was in, and she bit down a scream. The cop still found her. "What the hell?!"

"Leave her alone! Don't you touch her!" Dean growled. The cop smirked. "So, we've found your weakness." Dragging Dean along with him, the cop opened the trunk of his car, searching until he found a jar, opening the lid and depositing Shaun roughly in it. Dean glared murderously at the cop, and Shaun pulled herself into a ball, trembling. Dean looked at her, sending a worried and scared smile. "It'll be alright, I promise."

"So, you wanna give us your real name?" The interrogator asked, bringing in a box and tapping annoyingly at the glass prison that held Shaun. "I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." Dean said through gritted teeth. "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in."

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or "squeal like a pig" trouble?" The cop took the jar, spinning it and examining Shaun. "You've got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall, along with a bunch of satanic mumbo jumbo, and let's not forget this unidentified specimen. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"Yeah, that makes sense, because when the first one went missing in '82, I was 3." Dean pointed out. "I know you've got partners, and one of 'em's an older guy, maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me, DEAN…" He slammed the jar down on the table, sending Shaun on her ass, and Dean glared. He tossed a book onto the table. "Is this his?"

It was John Winchester's journal.

"I thought that might be your name. I leafed through this and found out the little I could. I mean, this is nine kinds of crazy. And you're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means." The cop said, turning to a page reading 'DEAN 35-111'. It was a blank page, with only Dean's name and some numbers, circled. Shaun got a look at it from her place in the jar, and recognized it immediately as coordinates.

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you; it's my high school locker combo." Dean lied, still staring at the page, occasionally glancing at Shaun. "Are we gonna do this all night?" Another cop walked in. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford road." The interrogating cop sighed. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"Good." He handcuffed Dean to the table and left. He looked at John's journal, seeing a paper clip sticking out. Smirking, he pulled it out. He grinned toward Shaun, who was still trembling and aching all over. After getting free of the handcuffs, he quickly opened the jar, carefully pulling Shaun out, hugging her to his chest. "Oh my god, I never EVER want to even see a jar for the rest of my life."

They carefully and quietly snuck away and out of the station, going to a phone booth. Dean called Sam. "Fake 911 phone call, Sammy, I don't know. That's pretty illegal!" Sam laughed. "You're welcome." He said proudly. "Listen, we gotta talk-"

"Tell me about it! So, the husband was unfaithful. I talked to Joseph and we are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet..."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean snapped. "What? How do you know?" Sam asked. "We've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Same old ex-marine crap that I can't understand." Shaun sighed, pulling out her own phone and calling Sam. "Hold on Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Coordinates. That's what your Dad wrote in the journal."

"Coordinates? Where to?"

"Uh, not sure yet, I'm working on it."

"Shaun, what the hell is going on?"

Shaun opened her mouth to answer but she heard Sam shout and tires screech. "Sam? Sam!" Shaun yelled. "What happened?" Dean asked. "I don't-" Shaun heard faint talking and heard the car moving. "Dean, we gotta go." Shaun said, hanging up the phone. "Where?" Dean asked. "To the Welchs' old house, go!"

She jumped out of his hand, using her super-speed fairy power thing to run really fast. Hearing Sam scream as she got to the house, she felt the inner pockets that she installed into her hoodie, finally pulling out a salt shotgun. She ran under the car, finding what she was looking for. She crawled up on the pipes underneath the car, and found the hole under the seat, using it to enter the car, standing on the floor of it and shooting Constance, who was on top of Sam.

At the same time she did this, Dean shot the driver's side window, also hitting Constance. "Dammit Dean, making me waste my ammo…" She mumbled. "I'm taking you home." Sam said firmly, flooring it toward the house. "SAM!" Shaun yelled, hearing Dean yell as well. Sam focused, driving straight into the house.

Shaun groaned as she was thrown back under the seat, and fell through the hole she had entered in. "Sam?" She heard Dean yell. "Here!" Dean helped Sam out of the car. "I heard Shaun in the car with me." Sam said. "Shaun!" Shaun coughed. "Under the car, shitheads!" She yelled, coughing and panting. Dean reached a hand under the car, and she flopped forward onto it.

"Sam, you're a bitch." They both laughed, but immediately stopped, seeing Constance holding a picture of her family and glaring at them. She tossed the picture aside, making a large dresser pin them against a wall. The lights flickered as the boys groaned. They all looked around. Water began pouring down the staircase, and two children stood at the top, holding hands. Constance walked toward the staircase, staring longingly at her kids. "You've come home to us, Mommy." They said. They teleported behind her, hugging her. She screamed, and in scary flashes, they all turned into a puddle of water.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, pushing the dresser over. "So, this is where she drowned her kids?" Shaun asked. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them." Sam said. "You found her weak spot." Dean patted him on the chest, where Constance had dug her fingers. "Ahahahaow! Wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey, saved your ass!" Dean pointed out. "And wasted my ammo." Shaun grumbled. "I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up our car; I'll kill you." Shaun said. Sam laughed.

They all sat in the car, Shaun sitting in the middle of the bench with John's journal, Sam shining a flashlight over her. She stared at the numbers, and then at the map, finally marking the point the coordinates pointed to. "Okay, here's where your Dad went; it's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." She announced. "Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked. "600 miles."

"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning." Dean said, looking at Sam. Sam's face fell. "Dean..um…" Dean's face fell as well. "You're not going?" Sam sighed. "The interview is in like, 10 hours, I gotta be there." Dean nodded disappointedly. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

They reached Sam's apartment. "Call me if you find him?" Sam asked as he got out of the car. Dean nodded in response. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right." Dean said flatly. Sam patted the door and turned away. "Sam!" Dean called after him. "Yeah?"

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah."

Dean turned and drove away. Shaun sighed, crawling toward Dean's thigh and leaning against it, patting it sympathetically. Suddenly he turned around. "Dean?" Shaun asked, sitting up in alert. "I've got a bad feeling."

Dean kicked down the door, shotgun in hand, Shaun in his breast pocket. "Sam?!" They heard Sam yelling. "Jess! NO!" They entered the bedroom, which was engulfed in flames. "Sam, come on!" Shaun pleaded. "Jess! No, NO!" Dean dragged Sam out of the flaming room.

The police and the fire department arrived. Dean and Shaun walked toward the Impala, seeing Sam around the back, loading a rifle. Dean looked at the rifle, then up at Sam. Sam looked back at Dean, face stoic, and sighed. He turned back to the trunk, tossing the rifle in and slamming the trunk.

"We got work to do."