A/N: Thanks to darksupernatural for being an awesome beta and a true friend. :D Enjoy!

Chapter 6

The first thing he noticed upon regaining consciousness after the girls cleaned up the room was lying on the most unbelievably, ridiculously comfortable bed he could ever imagine. Sinking deeper within the warm cocoon of the blankets, he was just about to drift back off to sleep until his hunter's instincts made him open his sleepy-filled eyes and focus them on the concerned puppy dog eyes of his younger brother.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice low, strained and rough with the sound of sleep, "you alright? It didn't get you?" As he tried swallowing, he remembered exactly why he gave up that task in the first place when he first woke up: his damaged larynx would not allow him that simple pleasure.

"Hey," Sam returned, smiling in relief at seeing his brother awake and talking, "how do you feel?"

"You didn't answer my question, Sam."

Shaking his head at his brother's sense of protectiveness, he said, "I'm alright Dean. It didn't get me," and knowing that Dean was going to be asking about Bobby and the girls, he quickly added, "and everybody's fine. Now how do you feel?"

"I feel fine, Sam," Dean said automatically, clearing his throat and ending up wincing. In truth, he did feel fine; he wouldn't even be surprised if his wounds had fully healed. And that was what was troubling.

Remembering back to what happened, he knew he should have been dead, if not, then grievously injured. Actually, come to think of it, he did die. He was sure of it. How else did he catch a small glimpse of Hell if he didn't die? But how was he still alive?

"Are you sure you're okay Dean?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah sure, why wouldn't I be?" Dean cocked an eyebrow, and as if to prove a point, he quickly sat up in bed, wincing and grunting along the way.

"Dean! You shouldn't be getting up so soon. The doctor gave you specific orders to stay in bed at least for a couple of more days," Sam said getting up and preparing to keep Dean from getting out of bed.

"Doctor?" Dean asked, both brows raised and stopping short from placing both feet on the carpeted floor. Looking around, he noticed his arm was attached to IV's, his chest was hooked to a heart monitor and, to his dismay, he was wearing a hospital gown, "What the –? Oh hell no!" Well, at least the room didn't look like your average typical hospital room.

Sam was trying very hard not to crack a single smile at his brother's expected outburst, but Dean, taking notice of how hard Sam was trying not to laugh, snap crossly, "Well at least tell me we're not at some damn hospital."

Yep, Dean's back to his old self, Sam thought, sighing as he sat back down on a recliner that was positioned near Dean's bed.

"What do you remember?" He asked, sitting on the edge of his seat and looking over his brother carefully.

"Would that be before or after someone apparently couldn't resist my charms enough to strip me off my clothes and have me wear a gown?" Dean smirked.

"Dean," Sam said pleading exasperatedly, using his infamous puppy dog eyes on his brother.

Try as he might, he couldn't resist. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair before replying, "Everything, up until I lost consciousness on the way here – wherever here is." Good, better not tell Sammy about the whole seeing Hell crap – no sense in having him worry.

"But first," Dean said, cutting Sam off, knowing his brother was going to tell him everything that had happened, "I want a double cheese burger with extra onions, Samantha."

"Okay jerk," Sam replied, amused, "you'll get your burger if you stay in bed by the time I come back, and I can guarantee you're not going to believe what I've found out."

"Fine bitch," Dean huffed as he found a remote to the 37 inch plasma tv. As he surfed the channels, he couldn't help but worry about what his brother had 'supposedly' found when he watched his brother exiting the room.

"I can't. I just can't"

"What do you mean you can't? Of course you can."

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say," Elizabeth huffed; arms crossed as she stood her ground and stared challenging back at her sister.

"Damn it, don't act like this is your first werewolf. You and I both know you've killed plenty. Why are you making such a big deal of it?" Monica demanded.

"You know why. Look there's still time before the next full moon; we can still try to save him –"

"Goddamnit Elizabeth, if you had the chance to kill it when we did, none of this would've happened! We wouldn't have been tracking it and it wouldn't have destroyed so many families. Don't you realize it's too late to save him?" Monica seethed aggressively.

Not one sound came from the werewolf as it entertained itself by greedily watching the two sisters go toe to toe with one another in the cold, damp basement littered with the usual protective spells.

"Your sister's right, Elizabeth, it's almost four years too late to save him. Might as well put a silver bullet in his heart right now," Bobby said, stepping forward and taking out his gun as if he was going to do that gruesome task himself.

The wolf chastised himself when Bobby's voice made him jump, apparently forgetting about the two more presences that came down into the basement with the sisters that are now fighting over what to do with him.

"Don't you even dare, Bobby, or I'll cut off your balls," Elizabeth viciously threatened, stopping Bobby in his tracks.

Even though it wasn't the first time she threatened him this way, it was indeed the first time she mentioned his genitals. With that in mind, he decided for once to step back and not see if she would really go through with her threat.

"Elizabeth," Jennifer, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chastised her sister, "how could you say that? He's a friend for god's sake!"

"Lizzie, just listen to me," Monica beseeched, "he's dead, alright? There's nothing you can do about it, and this one here," she said gesturing to the wolf, "is a monster that's in dire need to be terminated. We destroy evil, and just like what we did back in Kansas, we have to do the same thing here."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth looked at Monica in disbelief, "How do you sleep at night? Must I remind you that you were the one that killed her? Are you that itchy to kill our family?"

"You know why I had to kill her, right? Or must I remind you whose life was at stake there? It was either her or Jenny, and quite frankly, it wasn't all that hard to do," Monica said, voice lowering in a menacing manner, "so if you want me to kill him, I will, and nothing neither you nor Jenny will have a say in it."

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, finally realizing that this isn't something she could fix overnight, "No, I want to do it. I have to do it. But not now. I want to wait a couple of days until Dean is well enough so they can clear off."

"Well that's gonna be a bitch to pull off," Jennifer stated.

"How so?"

"Because Sam's already suspicious enough as it is," Monica said, reading her sister's mind, "he's going to find out sooner or later about what we're planning to do to the werewolf."

"Not if I can help it. Don't you three worry about it, I'll make sure to keep Sam away from the basement at all costs necessary," Bobby offered.

"Thanks Bobby, for everything. Oh and I apologize for what I said earlier, but seeing as this is our problem and not yours or the Winchesters, I think we'll handle it. And you two ain't gonna like it," Elizabeth said this last with ominous smile.

"What do you have in mind?" Monica asked suspiciously.

"I want you, Monica, to stay with Dean at all times and keep him occupied by any means necessary. And I want you, Jenny, to do the same with Sam, by any means necessary as well," She ordered them sternly.

"And what? Seduce them? Is that even going to be in the job description?" Monica huffed, clearly not amused.

"What? No! Just do what you always do, y'know, spy on them, pretend to be their girlfriends or something. Just no sex, okay? Or I'll be tormented for the rest of my life that no amount of therapy will cure, and I'll disown either one of you if you do," Elizabeth said trying to intimidate her sisters.

"Now wait one minute, Elizabeth. What did I say about hurting the boys?" Bobby demanded aggressively.

"Don't worry, Bobby, we're not going to hurt them, right girls?" She said sweetly.

"You're shittin' me?"

"Nope. Apparently the girls have more secrets than the DaVinci Code."

"So the werewolf's in the basement? Huh, I wonder what they're going to do with it. I just hope they don't intend on keeping the thing," Dean said in between mouthfuls of his greasy cheese burger.

Sam, who's also eating a greasy burger of his own, only nodded in agreement. When he left his brother to go in search of some beer in the refrigerator, he couldn't help but overhear some of the girls' conversation coming from the basement. Even though he didn't hear all of it, what he did manage to hear, made him feel on edge. Apparently it seems that the girls, more specifically Elizabeth, were not looking to destroy the werewolf. Sam had wanted to stay rooted to his spot in hopes of catching more of their conversation, but the thought of his brother getting out of bed and risking pulling his stitches, made him grab the beer and hurry on to his brother's side.

At a groan from his brother, Sam snapped out of his reverie, rushed over to his brother and asked worriedly, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Whoa dude, what did I tell you about personal space?" Dean groaned again as his flexed his left arm muscle, "Dude, how long did I sleep in one position, no less?"

Smiling that nothing was seriously wrong, Sam said cheerfully, "Almost twelve hours. Y'know, I think that was new world record for you."

"Shut up," Dean said. After a loud pop of his neck, he sighed contently and resumed eating after settling on watching True Lies.

"Dude, you can't be serious?" Sam almost whined when he saw what was showing – but almost.

"What? It's perfectly good movie," Dean said defensively, "Hey, you don't suppose Monica was anything like that Arnold Schwarzenegger character in that movie?"

"Don't you mean that Jamie Lee Curtis character?" Sam snickered.

Dean couldn't help but shudder at that thought as he tossed his trash in a bin, "Nah dude, that's too Mary Sue for me. Besides, I think she'd go all terminator on that Curtis chick character."

That stopped Sam's snickering as he thought back about what he had heard in the basement. He hadn't told Dean about it, and he wasn't going to, not unless he has substantial proof of the girl's deceitfulness.

"What's a matter Sammy? That burger didn't sit too well with you?"

"Like it always does with you?" Sam threw back, covering his tracks from his brother's careful gaze.

"Not bad Sammy. I must say it's not a great comeback, but with the right feminine attire to match your girly attitude, let's just say that there might be hope for you yet," Dean said in his most serious tone, hazel eyes carefully scrutinizing his brother and wishing that Sammy would tell his older brother whatever that was bothering him.

Sam had barely finished his meal when a small knock sounded on the door. Almost sighing in relief in thinking that he was saved from his brother's interrogating eyes, he never bothered to ask who was on the other side as he swung the door open wide.

"What are you doing here?" he asked apprehensively.

Dean tried looking curiously over Sam's towering frame from his position on the bed, but he pretty much guessed who would that be when a voice answered.

"Hi Sam, nice to see you too. But if you haven't noticed, you're under Elizabeth's roof, so if you don't mind –" Monica said as she moved past Sam and invited herself in.

"Jennifer wants you," she threw over her shoulder at Sam.

"Why?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Now if I knew that, would you think I'd have told you?"

At Sam's raised eyebrows, she said, "Don't answer that. But just to let you know, I wouldn't keep her waiting if I were you."

Dean was smirking at his brother as he watched the inner struggle he knew his brother was having between wanting to stay and take care of his older brother, and knowing he should never keep a lady waiting, especially if it was Jennifer.

Deciding that it was best to find out what she needed, he sighed resignedly, "Fine, but you," he pointed at Dean, "are not to get up from that bed until I say otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Dean said, almost bored as he turned his attention back to the tv.

"I mean it Dean, I don't want you to tear those stitches out before you even have a chance to heal," Sam said sternly. Once he was satisfied that Dean was going to listen to him for once, he stepped out of the room, but was shortly halted by a small hand on his forearm.

Clearing her throat, Monica said in a low voice so as not to let Dean overhear, "Listen Sam, about earlier...back in the park…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I can see how close you and your brother are, and it wasn't right of me to intrude –"

Shaking the apology aside, Sam said, "Listen. I should be thanking you. Whatever you did, you kept him alive. I mean, you three even gave us a roof over our heads, and you even patched Dean up. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Monica said, waving the gratitude aside. Geez, what the hell can I still do to get him off of our tails?

Sam just smiled at her as he went to see what the youngest sister wanted. Ahh, the things I do for Dean. Kissing his girlfriend's ass and I still didn't get what I was looking for. Maybe Jennifer might be an easier prey.

Just as soon as Sam walked out that door, Dean turned to Monica, begging, "Quick, get me outta here before he comes back."

"Sorry, no can do. You're all on your own on that one."

"So if you're not here to bail me out, then why are you here?"

"Company," Monica said simply.

"Let me guess, your big sister set you up for this?" Dean asked knowingly.

"I have no idea what you mean," she said, feigning innocence as she sat down on the recliner that Sam used when he sat vigilant by Dean's side, waiting for his big brother to show some sign that he was going to be alright.

"Ah, denial. The best answer in the world," he stated as he turned up the volume, "So how are you really?"

"What?"

"You were thrown into a tree. So…how bad are you hurt?"

"You're not seriously considering watching this movie, are you?" she asked, ignoring his last question.

He took a moment to look at her – she seems okay – before Dean sighed, "Why? You have a problem with Schwarzenegger?"

"Nah, it's more like I have a problem with Jamie Lee's character."

At Dean's bewildered look, she stated, "Too Mary Sue for me."

"What do you mean by that? She practically took care of herself and dealt with the bad guys," he refuted.

"Yeah, after all that kicking and screaming she did at first," she shot back.

"So what did Jennifer want Sam for?" he asked, deciding it would be the perfect time to change the subject.

"To go to Portland with her to help her bring back Bobby's truck and the Impala," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Wait, you left the Impala there all by herself?"

"Your baby's fine, Dean. Uh, do you mind changing the channel?"

"Well, it's either this, Bourne Supremacy, or Golden Eye. Which do you want to see?"

"He told you, didn't he?" Monica said perspicaciously, looking at him as she folded her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean?" Dean said feigning innocence like what Monica did earlier.

"Ah, denial. The best answer in the world," she said, reciting his earlier words.

"Well then, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

"Can't."

"Why not?" Don't all women love talking about themselves?

"It's complicated."

"How complicated can it be?" Dean persisted, turning off the tv and giving her his full attention.

Taking a deep breath, Monica said, "Fine. What do you want to know?" Ah what the hell.

"So let me get this straight, your mom was a model? I thought she was a dental hygienist?" Dean asked bewildered.

A little over two hours after many persuasions, drilling, and non-stop constant questioning, he had finally managed to get Monica to open up and talk about – at least – her parents. She's one tough cookie to crack, he'll give her that, but he enjoyed the challenge it gave him.

"It was a ruse that my dad made up. You see, his family wouldn't want him to marry someone who was beneath him or he'll be disowned and disinherited, so he made everyone believe that his model wife was a dental hygienist. Sad to say, she perfected the role amazingly," Monica said bitterly.

"I take it you don't like your mom, do you?"

"Let's just say she and I weren't exactly close," she said, refusing to say any more.

Respecting her in her wish not to comment any more on her mother, Dean inquired instead, "And what about your dad? What was he like?"

She gave him a tiny smile at that even though he couldn't make out what was being unsaid in her eyes, "He was a great man. Easy to talk to, easy to ask a favor of him, just basically an all-around nice guy. He was the smartest man I knew."

Well that helped, Dean thought unbelievably, shaking his head. He was hoping to hit pay dirt with what he was going to find out. He knew his brother was still wrapped around the thought that if they weren't careful, the sisters might one day stab them in the backs. He had hoped, with the information he thought was going to get, that, that would alleviate his brother's worries and consider the girls alright.

Unfortunately that didn't seem to be the case when he tried prying information out of Monica. To best sum it up, it was like talking to a brick wall. All he found out was how her father got started in the real estate business that made him into the billionaire everyone knew and respected. And let's not start on her mother; Dean could not even begin to believe how someone like her father could ever marry someone that was a very selfish, very vain, very ignorant, and an all-around brainless person such as her mother. Wait, didn't Sammy say something about her parents being MIA?

"May I ask what happened to your parents?" Dean started delicately and subtlety as possible.

Monica looked at him in the eyes as she took her time before replying, "You may ask, but I can't guarantee that you'll be satisfied with my answer."

Taking a deep breath and making sure anything on her face is completely unreadable, she continued, "My parents went missing a few years back, and even now I have no idea where they are or what have become of them."

"How did you get into hunting?" Dean fired at once.

"How else?" Monica asked casually as she shrugged her shoulders, "All hunters get into hunting out of either revenge or obsession."

Dean tried not to shudder as he remembered hearing Bela saying something closely similar to what Monica said.

"So what's your reason?" Dean asked after he found his voice.

"Righteousness."

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't we talk about you?" Monica asked abruptly, changing the subject.

"You see? That wasn't so hard after all, now was it?" Monica said getting up.

After four hours of talking non-stop of his up-bringing, the trials and tribulations of raising Sam, and every little thing about himself including his fears, Dean was amazed that he… felt good – for the first time in a long time. He had to giver to her – she was as much as a good listener as he was, if not better, as she encouraged him and prodded him by asking questions of her own as well as advised him and empathized with him. Hell, she acted as if she was his psychiatrist. A pretty damn good psychiatrist. Damn, I have never opened up like this before – not even with Cassie.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked as she placed her hand on the knob to open the door.

Monica made the mistake of looking back at him as the forlorn expression on his face was so pitiful that she couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Now what's so freakin' amusing?" he asked irritably as he finally got out of bed.

"Dean! You shouldn't be out of bed until Elizabeth had a chance to check you over," she reprimanded as she made to push him back on the bed.

"I'm fine," he huffed as he sidestepped her, "it doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Now look at what you've done," she said, shaking her head at him as he grunted when the forgotten IV's pulled.

"Just sit down, you arrogant jerk, before you aggravate the situation further," she said agitatedly, "and might as well let me check your wound," she added as an afterthought.

"What?" he asked when he saw the concerned, puzzled look on her face when she removed the bandages on his abdomen after removing the IVs and the heart monitor.

Biting her lip in deep thought of how to tell him, she began slowly, "I'm no doctor, but I think you're completely healed. There doesn't seem to be a trace that there even was a wound…"

"You did WHAT?!"

After getting Elizabeth and then Bobby to check Dean over, he was given a clean bill of health and was ready to hit the road when Sam and Jennifer brought back Bobby's truck and his very own pride and joy, but after much persuasion from Bobby himself, he and Sam had agreed to stick around a little longer.

Monica mused that Dean and Sam were no doubt in the large game room upstairs which they'd spent the better part of two hours as she cornered her sister in the family office.

"Did I stutter? Would you want me to speak slowly for you?"

"How could you?" Monica seethed, ignoring her sister's smart-ass retort.

"Oh stop being such a hypocrite, Monica," her sister threw over her shoulder spitefully as she crossed the room and headed towards the door.

As she opened the door, she turned to her sister and asked coldly, "Don't tell me you never did it in the profession you had? "

She was surprised that the door slammed shut when she opened it half-way. Finding the source of it, she quickly located the hand that was placed on it and followed it to its owner that was now towering over her in pure rage.

"You leave when I tell you too," Monica spat lividly. Apparently her sister didn't notice her striding over to keep her sister from leaving.

"Or what?" she asked hatefully as she tried to cover up how scared she felt, "What can you possibly do to me that you haven't done to Mom?"

"You think I'm worse?" Monica asked incredulously, thinking of all the evil sonsofbitches they killed.

"You're the one with the mounting body count," she pointed out defiantly, "besides, who could possibly be worse than you?"

"We can bring Lizzie into this if you want," Monica said, threatening her little sister.

"You wouldn't dare," Jennifer gasped, shocked.

"Try me," Monica challenged.

Jennifer couldn't hide the quiver in her voice any longer when she said, "Please, don't tell Lizzie. She wouldn't understand. Let's just keep this between you and me okay?"

Monica looked at her sister for one full minute, compassion etching across her face until her stoic expression she mastered so well replaced the compassionate one, knowing her older sister deserves the right to know what Jennifer did, "I can't guarantee it. But please just tell me you used protection?"

Jennifer grinned, "Of course! I wouldn't have had him any other way."

"What are you grinning about?" Dean asked Sam when he looked at his brother over the pool table.

"What? Nothing," Sam said a little too quickly, wiping the grin off of his face.

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, and deciding not to press his brother, he asked, "So, what have you found out?"

"About what?" Sam looked perplexed.

"You're kidding me, right? You wouldn't have agreed to go with Jennifer unless you wanted to get her alone to interrogate her. So, what did you find?"

At Sam's averted gaze, he grew suspicious, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Sam said.

"Nothing," Sam repeated persistently, when he caught Dean's disbelieving eyes.

"So what did you find out?" he said, desperate to change the subject.

Shaking his head as he resumed the play, Dean said, "Nothing useful."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam questioned.

"It means, Sam, that I think I might have screwed up" Dean admitted, disgusted at himself, the game forgotten, "I mean, spending over six freakin' hours alone with her, and all I did was spend four freakin' hours talking about myself while all she talked about was her parents. Nothing about her or her sisters except what we already knew," he finished agitatedly.

Sam stood, gaping at his brother, "You mean to tell me you dished all your heart and soul to her?"

"Sam –"

"You had a chick-flick moment, did you?"

"Sam –!"

"Wow man, you let her get one on you, did you?"

"SAM –!"

Once Dean had the younger hunter's attention, he threatened, "If you tell this to anyone, I'll kick your ass."

Sam took his brother's threat like a grain of salt, "Dude, you have to admit, no one – and I mean no one – has been able to get you to open up about anything, but all of a sudden this chick comes along and you up and told her everything?"

"Hey, she is not just some 'chick' –"

Sam ignored him and continued, "I thought you liked her? But there you were trying to get some information from her when she turned the tables and have you squealed like a pig."

"Look whose talkin'. You were the one that didn't trust them at first remember? Always askin' questions, it's like you're the one that's asking not to be trusted. And FYI, I do like her."

"Does she know?"

"No, and she's never going to."

"Well that's healthy. Why?"

At Dean's intense stare and his locked jaw, Sam answered his own question, "You're protecting her, aren't you? You're distancing yourself from her to protect her?"

When Dean refused to say anything more, Sam continued despite his brother's growing temper and discomfort, "You're afraid you'll go to Hell and leave her, right? You're afraid of hurting her, right? You're a real selfish jackass, y'know that?" Sam fired, hitting Dean below the belt, "Listen Dean, you are not going to Hell. We'll get you out of your deal and you can be with Monica – that I promise you. Hell, we can still get the girls to help –"

"Sam," Dean said in a harsh tone, "I don't want to hear it –"

"Well that's too bad Dean," Sam argued, getting frustrated more and more at his pig-headed of a brother, "For once, you're going to listen to me if –"

The next thing Sam knew was a blinding, throbbing pain as his jaw connected with Dean's hard-worked, calloused hand.

Sam, who used to be the most mild-tempered one in the family and used to always forgive and forget, decided that now was not the time to play the nice guy.

Dean ducked just in the nick of time as Sam's swung his fist around, hoping to connect with anything that's Dean's.

The crashing noise of the very expensive, priceless pool table caught the attention of Bobby and Elizabeth who had been holed up in the library pouring over books on how to get rid of their uninvited guest for the past several hours.

Thinking that they better interfere before the boys' start killing each other, they rushed in but stopped just as Sam was rolling on top of Dean to get in a better right hook. Dean blocked his brother's right hook and lodged his knee in Sam's ribs to throw the younger man off of him. The grunting and groaning with the additional sounds of breaking furniture and equipment, clashed onto one another almost like a crazed symphony orchestra.

"What should we do?" Elizabeth asked, merriment dancing in her brown eyes as she became an onlooker to the brothers' fight, not caring that they were dismantling the game room.

"Ah let them be," responded Bobby, unsure if he should be pissed off, concerned, or amused at their fight, "they'll tire themselves out before they kill each other."

Neither brother seemed to realize they had caught a crowd, nor seemed to realize they had lost them.

A few more minutes past before both brothers were lying next to each other on the floor and panting out of exhaustion, both supporting new bruises to their handsome features.

Sam was the first to break the silence, "And FYI big brother, it wasn't Monica I didn't trust. It was her sisters."

"What do you mean?" Dean inquired, looking at his brother and noticed him sporting a real nice shiner – a shiner he gave him.

"I overheard the sisters talking in the basement when I was looking for the beer, and it seems that Monica's the only one that's gun-ho in killing the werewolf, but it looks like her sisters aren't too keen to see that happen," Sam admitted, feeling around his ribs to make sure they were still intact – 'cause they hurt like shit!

"So that's why you went with Jennifer? To question her about that damn wolf?"

"Yeah, only it didn't work."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Dean muttered out wearily.

"Now before you have an aneurysm –" Sam began, but Dean cut him off.

"Don't tell you and she did –" Dean started, but stopped.

Starting again, he asked as calmly as possible without trying to raise his voice and alert the older sister, "Please tell me you used protection."

Sam grinned, "She wouldn't have wanted me any other way."

"You don't trust us?" Elizabeth asked, shock and disbelief written all over her face as she stared hard at Bobby.

After spending almost twenty-four hours searching one supernatural book after another for a way to deal with the werewolf with running on nothing but caffeine and the little reprieve they took when watching the brothers' fight, the answer that they had been looking for had finally been found, alleviating both Bobby's and Elizabeth's fears that the mystery of the werewolf might stay hidden.

"You know I do. It's just that I don't trust you and Jennifer when it concerns that damn wolf," Bobby countered as he slammed the book he was looking at and left the library.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth demanded, following Bobby.

"Do you really want to know?" Bobby stopped in the kitchen and turned to face her.

At Elizabeth's raised brow, he continued, "You remembered what happened last time you had that werewolf in your clutches? Both of you jumped Monica and trapped her in a bathroom to keep her from putting a bullet in him."

"As unfortunate as that was, I can assure you it won't happen again," she promised him, eyes narrowed and jaw set in a stance that clearly meant that she didn't want to discuss it further.

"It better not, which is why I want Dean and Sam involved in this," Bobby growled out.

"Why? What do you hope to gain with the Winchester's involvement?" Elizabeth inquired.

"At least to make sure you two don't screw up this time. Now get everyone down there while I set up the ritual," he ordered as he continued towards the basement.

She stood there a moment longer with her mouth agape, staring at the space where Bobby had occupied a minute earlier before she went in search of her sisters and the brothers.

The werewolf stared defiantly at the group that surrounded him, sizing each up to find a weak link in which to get himself free of. Settling his sights on the eldest sister, he sneered when he found his ticket to freedom.

He could see it in her eyes that she didn't want to do this, and the fear radiating off of her was like a breath of fresh air of freedom to him.

Elizabeth was truly afraid, not for herself or her sisters, but for what might happen after she loses him.

"You know you don't have to do this," Monica offered, sensing her sister's distress.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and replied, "No, I have to do this. It doesn't matter on whether I want to or not – it's just something I have to do.

Monica smiled understandingly as she squeezed her sister's shoulder in comfort.

After Elizabeth waited until Bobby was done prepping the ritual, she took a moment to steady herself, taking in a deep shaky breath, before walking up to the werewolf who was smiling evilly at her.

Bending down slightly so that their eyes meet – eyes filled with pure unconditional love meeting eyes filled with pure unconditional evil – she smiled sadly, "Hi daddy."

TBC...

A/N: Please let me know what you think! :D