Paste your docum

First of all, I am ashamed as of how late this update has been. I have had massive computer issues (needed a total clean out and had to wait for the money to do that) plus I have had some personal issues which made this sequel a little hard to write. After writing the prequel, a cancer fic, someone within my family was diagnosed, and since, died, of a cancer similar to that of Dean's (only in this case it was the kidney and not the liver). Needless to say, writing the sequel has been very trying. Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

"Hey, Dean. Check this out."

Dean looked up from his text, rubbing his tired eyes. He'd never been one for research, and he could definitely not pull off the hours of time Sam spent behind the computer or nose deep in a book, even when he was sleep deprived. It was long past lunch, and the majority of the library's patrons had left for a quick bite. Stretching and taking of sip of long cold coffee, Dean leaned against the oak table to see what his brother had discovered.

"We know that we've been seeing a pattern of demonic activity in the state," Sam began, scooting closer to his brother with the newspaper. "Cattle mutilations, weird weather patterns, the usual MO." Dean nodded, looking impatient, and Sam rolled his eyes, continuing. "Tornadoes on the west coast, sudden drought in the middle of October, that kind of thing."

"Sounds rather demonic, but we already knew that, Sam." The younger Winchester nodded in agreement, and continued. "But there's more to it. Look." He pushed the paper aside, pointing to a weather map." The signs are initially in the eastern part of the state, closer to the Nevada border. And there's usually a rest period between. Two, sometimes three weeks. But lately, the omens are moving west. And the further to the coast, the faster the frequency of this demon. Whatever it wants, it's increasing in intensity. And if you follow the pattern…." Sam pulled a text towards him and followed traced the pathway with the tip of his pen, tapping the epicenter rather grimly. "The demon's on the way here, Dean."

"You sure?" Sam nodded, and Dean noticed the worry in his hazel eyes. "It's almost the 2nd, Dean, and that thing that killed Mom is heading this way…"

"But you can't be sure it wants you. California's a huge state, and Palo Alto is a fairly large city." But Dean knew that any words of comfort would, for the first time in years, fall on deaf ears. Sure, Dean Winchester was no Rhodes scholar, had passed high school only with a GED, but rarely did his gut feelings fail him. And he was terribly afraid that Sam's hypothesis was a correct one.

"So, we take some precautions. Salt and ward the shit out of your apartment. Who cares if Jess questions you," at Sam's rather rueful glance, "she's gonna find out sooner or later if you marry her. May as well be now. I promise, Sam, we're gonna find Dad, and we're gonna gank the sonofabitch who killed Mom." Sam nodded, and Dean smiled, patting his brother on the shoulder. "Good. Not let's blow this place and get something to eat. I'm starving."

XXX

"Um, what exactly are you doing, Dean?"

Jessica was standing in the open door of the bathroom, watching as Dean poured a generous amount of salt on the window sill. For a moment, he ignored her, concentrating on ensuring a thick, even layer of the condiment along the ledge. A moment later, satisfied with the result, he closed the tab on the salt box and turned to his brother's fiancée. "Protection."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how you wasting table salt is really going to protect me."

"Salt's a purifier. Keeps all the dark shit out. Demons, spirits, that sort of thing."

Jess nodded her head, but still looked confused. "How much did Sammy tell you, Jessica?"

"Just that some demon who killed your mother might be heading this way." She tried to brush it off, act casual, but Dean could tell that the young woman was worried. "He said something about this stuff, but I kind of tuned out after the whole homicidal demon bit."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's kinda hard to believe, huh?"

"Uh, maybe just a little." But Jess was smiling faintly, and Dean retuned it with a small grin of his own. Again, he realized just how lucky his younger brother was to have a woman as great as Jessica Moore. While some may have completely lost their cool at the news that the supernatural really did exist, Jess seemed to be handling the situation quite well. She was frightened, and rightfully so. To dismiss the truth as hogwash, or deny it, could be a matter of life and death. Hysterics were also dangerous; on a few occasions Dean had nearly been hurt badly, even killed, by a civilian who had totally lost control.

"This stuff needs to be around any area where a demon could come in. Doorframes, window sills. Plus we need to draw some of these around here too. It's called a devil's trap." Dean handed Jess a slip of paper with one of the traps carefully drawn on it. "Once a demon steps into one of those things, it can't get out. You need to be sneaky, though. No demon's gonna just walk right into one. So we try to hide them under mats, on the ceiling above doors, in invisible ink."

Jess looked down at the image on the sheet, closed her eyes. "This is unbelievable."

"Yeah, well you better believe it, 'cause if Sam's right, this thing is heading this way."

For a moment, the young woman hesitated, and Dean thought that she might finally lose her cool. But a moment later, she looked up, grim determination in her eyes. This was scary as hell, but there was no way she could leave Sam, or even Dean. For better or for worse, Jess. And this definitely falls under the 'for worse' category.

.

XXX

The demon with the yellow eyes watched from the shadows, a look of contempt on his vessel's face. Not surprisingly, the Winchesters had pinpointed his next move. Were warding Sam's apartment at this very moment. For a moment, he cursed himself for his foolishness. Of course they'd figure it out. They were John Winchester's boys, after all. His trail had been far from obscure. But in retrospect, the demon was actually pleased. It would be far too easy to just drop in unannounced. This would be the perfect opportunity for a little game of cat and mouse. The demon would just have to lure the lovely damsel away from their little love nest. It wouldn't take too much. The girl had to work eventually; while the cost of the older Winchester's cancer treatment had been for the most part covered, the love birds had had other expenses to deal with. It would be then when he'd make his move.

XXX

It was well after midnight when John finally checked in to his latest cheap motel and dropped his duffel on the floor at the foot of his bed. He was exhausted, but knew that there would be little sleep that night. The demon was somewhere in southern California, and he had a good feeling that its next stop would be Palo Alto. And if his suspicions were correct, Sam could very well be in serious trouble. He was still a few hours out of the city limits, and he wanted desperately to continue the drive, but exhaustion was overwhelming, to the point where he'd nearly ditched his truck a few times. Frustrated, John pulled off his boots and collapsed on his bed, willing himself to at least grab an hour or two of rest. But as tired as he was, the hunter was unable to sleep. Without fail, just as he would drift off, an image of Mary, burning on the ceiling, would flash before him, followed by those of his sons, lying in pools of their own blood, abdomens slashed by the demon.

On several occasions, he thought of calling his boys, to give them a fair warning of the threat. At one point, he had actually picked up the phone, thumb posed above the send button. Eventually, he decided against the idea. His deal would be coming due sooner than John would care to admit, and there was no way his sons were going to learn the truth; they'd only try to come up with a plan to break the deal, and that was out of the question. As soon as either one of them broke the contract, he'd be in Hell in his stead. But, in all honesty, he also couldn't bear to see his sons one last time. It would be too much for him to handle, enough to perhaps even make him try to come up with some last minute stay of execution. And then both of his boys would be downstairs. Not happening. With a sigh, John tossed the phone on his night stand, burying his face in the pillow. His boys were smart; he'd raised them well. They'd figure out what John had already discovered, right?

Finally, just before dawn, he slipped into a restless sleep. And when he finally awakened after only a few hours, John Winchester was once again on the road.

ent here...