It was a long drive to California. Jo amused herself from Nebraska to the Silicone Valley by asking 'are we there yet?' on the dot at each half hour. She didn't mean to, but it was an instinctive thing she'd done since she was small and Dad would be forced to bundle up his girls in the middle of the night and move somewhere new. It was a way to deflect her own thoughts by only thinking as far ahead as the next rest stop.
Funnily enough Sam didn't seem to mind. Any company broke him out of his shell and forced him to once again become another person, unlike where his usual schedule consisted of sleep, coffee, study, lunch, kill something, sleep. And in the morning he'd wake up and do it all over again. In hindsight, it was much like his pre-law schedule… without the 'kill something' bit.
Jo reached for a folded section of paper sitting on the seat beside Sam's laptop bag.
"You've read it five times already. You won't change what it says, you know."
She gave him a dirty look and began to read anyway. Sam looked back to the road. He knew what it was on the paper. He had it almost memorised since he saw the title 'Macabre Killing at Stanford University', so much more gory and attention grabbing then Jess's 'Tragic Fire Claims Life.'
Jess. Here he was, almost thirty years old, and Jessica Moore was still haunting him. He thought he could get away from it all, try to forget somewhat, but the dead kept coming back to try and claim his soul. Stanford. It's coming to Stanford to kill her.
He was no longer one of the Demon's children, though his dreams were a constant reminder of what had been done to him. Since failing to protect Dean, he'd hit the ground running and hadn't stopped since. You get in the way and it's going to kill you too.
They're going to catch you, and drag you screaming down into the pit. He was a soldier without direction. Without someone to tell him to stop.
"STOP!" It was shouted in his ear, and a foot stomped painfully over his on the clutch and brake. Jo was almost sitting on his lap and wrested the steering wheel to the side, taking them off the main road. Sam blinked and looked into her face. Her cheeks were an angry red and her eyes glinted dangerously.
A four-wheel drive flashed past, the driver leaning on the horn and his passenger yelling out the window.
"What the hell happened?" She cried. "Are you trying to get us killed? Didn't you hear me calling?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said simply. What else could he say? He still saw Stanford, and the girl. A dark shadow descended over her and she was gone. Jo noticed the glazed eyes and waxy quality of his skin.
"What was it?" She asked in a quiet voice.
"We have to get to Stanford. There's something evil on campus."
"From what I've seen, most frat boys are evil."
"Jo, take it seriously for once. A woman is going to die if we don't get there now."
"Right." She said, and got out of the car.
"Jo-?" Sam asked in surprise as she walked around the bonnet and stuck her head though the driver's window.
"Budge over, Allison Dubois. It's my time to drive the chariot." He slid over wordlessly and Jo got over into the driver's side. "And just maybe we won't bash into a tree," She muttered softly. Turning the key in the ignition, she gave a satisfied smile as the engine roared into life. "Oh, yeah."
Jo stared up at the building, with its archways and rolling green lawns. "So this is Stanford."
"This is Stanford." Sam said. He was looking nervous.
"What's up?"
"I hardly left here under pleasant circumstances."
"Mmm. I hear this is where Dean first went dark side."
"Say it a little louder." He frowned at her. "And for your information, that was a shape shifter."
"I only know what was in the papers at the time. Believe it or not, I wasn't avidly waiting for the next instalment in 'Sam & Dean's Excellent Adventure'." She sniped back.
"Hey!"
Jo blew the hair out of her eyes and tossed the keys over to Sam. He hadn't seen much in his vision, but he'd told her the basics. 'She's got red hair.'
'Oh, good.' Jo had replied, rolling her eyes. 'She won't be hard to find at all.' And then they'd arrived at the university. Redheads doing study group, redheads doing gym, redheads reading, redheads strolling across the lawn… She felt like taking him to one side and thumping him.
"Look." Sam pointed to a stout man wearing a paunch-concealing suit. "He must be the new dean."
"Great. Let's go introduce ourselves." Jo said sarcastically. Sam cocked an eyebrow at her.
"You know, that might actually not be a bad idea."
"Excuse me?"
But Sam was off, strolling across the lawn like he owned the place. Jo grumbled under her breath and followed his long strides across the grounds.
"And so you are interested in joining our student body, Miss Harvelle?" The dean looked her over suspiciously before waving them after him in a tour of the main complex.
Sam elbowed her in the ribs and Jo jerked back into wakefulness. "Oh, yes, Dean Harris. My… friend Tom here attended some years back and recommended it."
The dean eyed Sam and Sam forced himself to grin. The university had appointed a new man to the post. Dean Cole would have recognised him away and welcomed him with open arms, just before he gave himself and Jo a police escort off Stanford's property.
"What do you plan to major in, Miss Harvelle?" The question caught her off-guard. Never in a million years did she think that one day she would be stuck at college, choosing her subjects. But it was probably safer if Sam didn't tell anyone who he was.
"Ah-"
"JB was telling me that she's interested in pursuing History." Sam put in smoothly. It was the subject the dead girl had been studying. Jo nodded.
"Right."
"You're in luck. A position in that area has recently become available."
"You mean that one that belonged to the dead girl?" Jo asked. The look Sam gave her clearly said You have no tact.
The dean stiffened. "What-?"
"It's in the campus paper."
"I see. Well, don't let that dreadful business put you off. A very unfortunate accident." Sam and Jo exchanged glances. The dean opened a door to his right. "Perhaps speaking to one of our History professors will help you make up your mind." He motioned them to follow him inside.
"Professor Devlin?"
The woman looked up from the papers on the desk. The eyes behind the frames were angry at the disruption, though the rest of her face remained calm.
"Dean Harris." She acknowledged.
"Professor, this is Joanna Harvelle and her friend Tom." The professor rose to shake their hands. "Joanna is interested in studying history here. Convince her, we need the money."
She gave a patient smile at the dean's small joke, but her eyes brightened upon hearing that Jo wished to take her subject. "Are you now?" There was a distinctly un-American twang to her voice.
Professor Devlin's grip was firm and she and Sam smiled politely at one another as they shook hands. If she disapproved of the torn jeans and band tee shirts, she didn't show it.
And then he recognised her.
It was the girl from his vision.
Step two was to find the girl that discovered the body. When Sam asked around, all he got were grunts and blank stares, but after ten minutes talking to the boys on one of the debating teams, Jo came back with a name and address scribbled on her hand.
And so the two shot off to the other side of the campus.
"Louise Tucker, dorm 37. She's going back to Maryland tomorrow, if she hasn't already, so you better work your magic quick." Jo said as they reached the door. "Then you can get back to saving your red haired professor."
Sam knocked. "Louise Tucker?" No one moved beyond the door. Sam and Jo glanced at each other.
"Louise?"
Jo pulled out her wallet and extracted a credit card.
"You know that doesn't actually work."
"Ha! It's all a matter of leverage. Watch and learn."
And amazingly enough she unlocked the door in two minutes. "Give me that." Sam felt the card. "Jo, this is brass."
"Darn you, you've found out my secret. So I cheated." She opened the door and swiftly deactivated the alarm.
"How did you-?"
"The access codes were on the dean's desk. Fancy that, leaving them out in the open where any lowlife could see them."
Sam just gave her a look. "The place is suspiciously empty. I'd say she's already left."
"Mm." Jo pointed to stains in the carpet. "Looks like the other girl tried to escape."
Sam crouched down to inspect the spatter pattern. "I think I know what it is." He said. "Have you ever heard of a-?"
The lights flicked on.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
It was Professor Grace Devlin. She stood in the doorway looking completely shocked.
"Looking at possible accommodation?" Jo asked hopefully.
"At eleven thirty at night?" Professor Devlin took a step back.
"No, really – we were just – " Sam started. "Hold on, why are you here?"
Professor Devlin drew herself up to her full height. "I, mister, am a Professor! Get off Stanford property before I call the cops!"
"Professor Devlin-"
But she was already walking away down the stairs. "First thing morning, I'm speaking to the dean. I don't know who you are, but I can sure as hell keep you out of this school, Joanna Harvelle. The same for you, Sam Winchester."
"I thought you didn't tell anyone your name!"
Sam stopped and stared after the strange woman marching indignantly back to her car. "I didn't."
Grace had reached the side of her car when the boy behind her crumpled to the ground. She looked back as the blonde girl knelt quickly and slapped him across the face.
She opened the door.
The darkness was crowding in, threatening to drown him. Sam peered out through a fog of shattered images.
"Stop her." He croaked to Jo. This time she gave no witty reply and broke into a run, reaching into her jacket. He saw it now more than ever. Grace Devlin was in danger.
The moon was blacked out as Jo began to close in on the professor. She instinctively stopped moving, as Sam and Grace did.
The creature was above them, floating on silent wings. It seemed to absorb the blackness of the night, making it loom large in their vision. It snapped it's long jaws, as if it could already taste their flesh.
Jo found she couldn't move. Fear coursed through her, pure, undiluted fear. She tried to forced her hand to reach for the knife, but her body refused to obey her commands.
And then it screeched, loud and long and earsplitting.
"Get in the car!" Sam screamed at her.
Jo finally moved. "Professor!"
Professor Devlin stood her ground, gazing up at death with a grim determination.
"Professor!"
"Grace!"
And as suddenly as the creature appeared, it vanished into smoky tendrils that wormed their way into the stonework.
Jo stared at the professor as Sam crunched up the courtyard beside her. The professor's head was bowed and she was swiftly muttering something she couldn't hear. She turned her head to look at them.
"Grace." Sam said in his most reasonable tone. "You have to come with us. Something is after you."
Professor Devlin turned her calm, unworried eyes on him. "I know."
Sam and Jo stared at the woman standing calmly among the chaos. Grace sank tiredly into the leather interior of her car.
"Grace-" Sam took a step toward her. She glanced up at him and their eyes locked. And he knew in that instant she was not all she seemed. The professor looked away.
"It won't hurt you." Professor Devlin said. "You aren't of any interest to it."
"How can you say that?" Jo exploded. "That girl is dead!"
The professor rounded on her. "Don't you think I know that? It was supposed to come after me! I wanted it to come after me!"
"That's why you came here." Sam said. "You were going to track it from the dorm room."
"All this time it's been chasing me." The professor hissed. "And now because it's seen you with me, it'll chase you too."
"But we can help-"
"No one can help me." Professor Devlin slammed the car door. "Leave me alone."