hello again everyone. sorry for the long wait, but i've been on vacation. thank you all once again for the great reviews, i am glad you are all enjoying the story. on with the show. :)

NOT ALL AS IT SEEMS

Chapter 2

Kerri sat in the room off the back of her kitchen, legs crossed, easel set up before her. She had been trying to draw for the better part of the past two hours, but with her right arm still in a sling, she ended up producing nothing but frustration. She had been shot a mere three weeks ago, but to the twenty nine year old, it felt like it had just happened the day before. She could still hear the sound of the gun shot, still feel the overwhelming pain radiating through her body. Hell, she had even woken in the middle of the night, sure she had been shot again the pain was so intense.

And, worse still was that she could still see Dean, still see him on the marble floor, writhing in pain as the connection between them and the painting was broken. It was almost like he was dying as well, Tir-na-nog ripping from his soul the youth and life it had given him, pulling it from him with no thought to his life at all. But it was nothing compared to what the painting had done to William Bramhurst, and for that, Kerri was grateful. Because, she wouldn't know what she would do if Dean Winchester were turned to dust because of her.

She sat up a little straighter, cracking her back while she stared at the paper, left handed drawing really not working out. She had only been in the sling for a few weeks, but she was already going stir crazy. She usually spent her days doing a mixture of activities, whether it was making her stained glass windows, filling out an order for ammo, or researching a hunt for a passing hunter, there was always something to keep her busy. But now that she couldn't use her right arm, all that changed. Working with metal was a definite no, as was any kind of drawing or painting. And so, she had decided to catch up on the research requests that had been piling up on her desk. But, without the other, usual distractions, all her research took a grand total of eleven days. And now, well now she was just plain bored.

Kerri stilled the moment she heard it, the sound she had memorized over two decades before. The deep rumble, the way the tires crunched the gravel beneath them, the sound of the suspension, everything, even down to the creak of the doors. It was the impala. She stood up slowly, listening as the brothers' voices floated in through the back window on the early evening air. Dean told her they'd be back, but there was still a part of her that didn't believe him. After all, Sam and Dean were hunters, and she knew that there were no promises in that life, no matter how many times Dean tried to tell her different.

She had been around hunters all her life, and, despite her protests, the brothers had managed to get her to go on a few hunts with them. She knew the dangers of the job, knew the reality that each day could be your last, no matter what. But still Dean promised, still he took on both heaven and hell to keep his word, and Kerri was both grateful and scared. Because, in all honesty, she was afraid of the lengths to which Dean would go to keep those promises.

Kerri made her way out of the back room just as the brothers began climbing the stairs. She could heard their footfalls on the old wood, the sound bringing back a myriad of memories. She had always based her assumptions of people on how they walked, on the sound, the way they climbed the stairs. Some climbed with heavy feet, almost as though they were reluctant to go forward, forced to take each and every step. Those were the broken men, the ones that had lost too much to ever be whole again.

And then there were those who bounded up the stairs, their footfalls still heavy, but moving forward with determination and life. And Sam and Dean were among those men. They weren't defeated yet, hadn't given up on hope, on the possibility that things could all work out. And Kerri prayed that neither of them ever did. They were what kept her believing, what kept her from giving into the void that had become her life. So much was gone, taken from her, erased from her world, but she always held on to the naive belief that the boys would come back. And they did.

"Kerri?" Dean called from the kitchen, just as she rounded the corner.

"Hey."

"Hey? This is the second time I've broken into your house. Did you not listen to anything I said last time?"

"Wow, nice to see you, too."

"Come on, Kerri, this stuff's important."

"I know it's important, but I'm fine here, Dean."

"How's your arm?" Dean asked after a few moment's silence, his weight shifting from one foot to the other, hands resting on the counter.

"It's been better. Where's Sam?"

"I'm right back here." Sam answered from the door, smiling at Kerri. But she was at a complete loss for words at the sight that greeted her.

It was definitely the last thing she ever expected, but there it was, right in front of her eyes. There in Sam's arms, smiling and hanging onto the man's shirt was a little boy.

"Oh." Sam began, obviously seeing the way she was staring at the kid. "This is Jake."

"He's cute, Sam." Kerri smiled, watching as the baby tried to wave at her and Dean, his little hand opening and closing without much rhythm. "How old is he?"

"We don't know."

"You don't know?"

Realization dawned on Sam when his brother began to snicker, his eyes growing wide, mouth opening and closing a few times, almost like he was a fish searching for water.

"He's not mine." Sam nearly shouted, making the little boy on his hip jump. "Why'd you think he was?"

"I'm sorry. It's just--."

"Just what?"

"Oh man." Dean laughed, walking over and taking the kid from his still stunned brother, and saving Kerri from the younger man's interrogation. "You're gonna make a great dad someday. And before you ask, he's not mine either."

"If he isn't yours then where the hell'd he come from?"

"Um, we found him."

"You found him? Dean, he's not a puppy."

"Oh really? Because, you know, I couldn't tell."

"Do you know how many people are probably out looking for him?" Kerri asked, her voice rising as she spoke. She had always considered Sam and Dean pretty smart guys, a little reckless, but still pretty sharp. But now she wasn't so sure.

"That's the thing." Sam broke in. "There wasn't anyone looking for him."

"What?"

"Big empty forest, little guy in the middle of it all alone." Dean began, rubbing Jake's back when his bottom lip began to tremble, the raised voices obviously scaring the small child.

"There wasn't anyone, anywhere?"

"Not a soul."

"Then, how do you know his name?"

"It was printed on the tag of his coveralls." Sam answered, now standing a good couple feet from the child. "Jacob Robinson."

"Well, let me do a search and find out who he really belongs to, I'm sure they're worried sick." She couldn't believe that the brothers would have taken a baby from the middle of the forest without at least trying to figure out where he belonged. That's what police stations and hospitals were for. But then, no matter how smart either of them were, the boys sometimes lacked a little bit of common sense.

"Alright." Dean began, shifting the boy in his arms, leaning him towards Kerri. "Here you go."

"What do I want him for?"

"You're gonna go look for his parents, right?"

"Yeah, but what's he gonna do, help me type."

"Yeah, but--."

"But nothing, Winchester. You brought him here, you look after him." Kerri smirked, knowing full well that Dean was better equipped at caring for children than she was. After all, he'd done a damn good job of raising Sam. Evelyn, well that was a different story. "What were you two doing in the forest anyway?"

"Hunting."

"Hunting what?"

"We have a theory."

"Dean, has a theory." Sam corrected, his older brother glaring at him.

"And what's that?"

"Well, a bunch of couples have gone camping in this one place. Then, a few days later, they all turn up dead in their homes."

"What do you think it is?"

"Hitchhiking ghosts. But you know, the homicidal, non-disney world kind."

"Hitchhiking ghosts? That's kind of weak, Dean."

"Whatever, you go figure out where cracker kid belongs. We'll be here looking for some dinner."

"Fridge is all yours."

"I'll come and help." Sam chimed in, following Kerri up the stairs, leaving Dean and Jake alone.

"So." Kerri began a few moments later, both she and Sam weaving their way through the narrow halls. "Couldn't talk Dean into leaving him somewhere?"

"Actually, it was my idea to keep him with us."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't now, I just have this feeling."

"Like he's got something to do with the hitchhiking ghosts?"

"Yeah, and the fact that I'm positive that whatever's behind it isn't a hobo from an amusement park ride."

"You gotta admit, though, Dean knows his pop culture."

"Yeah, a little too well if you ask me."

"Hey, Kerri?" Sam began a few minutes later, the pair turning into her room. "Why'd you ask if it was Dean that wanted to keep the kid?"

"Same reason I asked if he was yours." Kerri stated off hand, surprised when Sam still looked a little clueless.

"Sam, he looks just like you."

"What?"

"Well, all except for the blue eyes, he's like a mini you. You didn't notice?"

"No."

"Yeah well, check out some of the pictures around here and you'll see. Now, let's find out who he belongs to." Kerri began, taking her laptop and sitting on the bench of the bay window. Sam sat down beside her, but instead of leaning in to see the computer he stared, almost transfixed out the window, lost in thought. Kerri just sighed, turning back to the screen, knowing Sam would join in when ready.

The pair searched the internet as best they could, scouring page after page of information, the night growing darker beyond the large window. Needless to say there were a lot of 'Jacob Robinsons' in America, but, after about an hour and forty minutes of searching, Kerri spoke up.

"There he is. Jacob Robinson. He's from Colorado."

"How old?"

"Uh, twenty two months. There's an address and phone number here too, Sam."

"Yeah, alright." Sam mumbled, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"Look, Sam, I know that you have a weird vibe about all this, and I believe you, I do. But we can't keep this kid from his mother."

"I know, you're right. It's just….. I don't know, something's not right about all this." Sam sighed, turning to the other side of the room, leaving Kerri alone as he called the little boy's parents. A few minutes later, Kerri heard him speak.

666666666666

"Hello, may I please speak with a Mrs. Robinson?" Sam began, his voice indifferent, ready to take the conversation wherever he needed to to get answers.

"This is she." A chipper voice answered, taking Sam by surprise. She really didn't sound like a woman with a missing child.

"Um." Sam began, trying to figure out who he was going to be today, when the woman broke in.

"Jake, honey." He heard her yell, a loud noise sounding from somewhere in the distance. "Jake, we don't throw things, baby."

Sam froze listening to the woman as she spoke, the tell tale sounds of a baby in the background. But it couldn't be, Jake was here with him.

"I'm sorry, Sir. You were saying?"

"Yes, my name is Sam Peters, I'm with the Medicine Bow national park." Sam began, shaking his head as Kerri gave him a puzzled look. "We have in our records that you stayed in the campsites recently."

"Yes, Sir, is there a problem?"

"Oh no, I just wanted to know if you enjoyed your stay."

"Oh yes, it was wonderful. It was our first time there and we loved it."

"May I ask who you were camping with?"

"My husband and son."

"And do you just have the one child?"

"Yes, just little Jake."

"One last question ma'am. How old is your son?"

"He's twenty two months. We thought that maybe he was too young for it, but he did great. He's even got more energy since we've been back. My husband keeps joking that camping has turned him into a little monster."