(Disclaimer: Don't own the boys or the concept. Do own the story)

Battle Weary.

Chapter Eleven.

Jay refused to be drawn on the subject any further. No amount of yelling, screaming, threats of violence (she'd laughed hard at that one) would persuade her. She'd already opened up too much to these three and she was at that point of uncomfortableness that always plagued her when her mouth had gotten ahead of her.

Sam had been particularly forceful in his approach, she understood that, but once she decided she was finished with something, there was little anyone could do to change her mind. She'd allowed Sam to yank her from her chair, she didn't say anything, just stared at him as he yelled at her, shaken her, his face inches from hers. It had taken Dean and Gus fifteen minutes to convince him to let her go. The fact that she'd remained calm during the whole encounter only served to piss Sam off more.

Gus had tried to reason with her and she listened to his argument, nodding in all the right places until finally turning to him and saying 'No'. His exasperated curses were still filling the air as he stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Dean had pretty much let her be. He wanted answers….but didn't. Wanted to know what it was she'd half-figured out…but didn't. Wanted confirmation of his suspicions…but didn't. Wanted to know how she fit into all of this…that was an answer he did want, he just didn't know how to voice the question.

He'd tried to convince her to take his bed but agreed that Sam would probably try to kill her in her sleep….then they'd laughed at the irony of that and she'd taken the couch while he headed to his room, leaving his door ajar in case she decided to do a runner.

He'd lain in bed listening to her move around the house, make coffee (he'd laughed quietly when she burned her tongue on the hot liquid and swore), he heard her put more wood on the fire and then the scratching of pen against paper. He listened to that for a long time before he heard her pad quietly back to the kitchen, wash her cup and then the sound of her footsteps getting closer to the room. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, not wanting her to know he'd been listening.

He heard her move away from the door, the sound of her rummaging through her bag and then, after a few minutes, the squeak of the couch as she settled herself. He tried to concentrate on what tomorrow would bring. This was going to be the biggest battle of his life…of his brothers life but something was niggling at the back of his mind…something he knew was in that journal of hers. Her journal. Hers. Her.

He waited another hour before he slowly rose from the bed. He slipped his jeans on, walked quietly to the door and peeked around. She was asleep on her stomach, one hand resting on the floor, the other tucked underneath the pillow, a leg hanging precariously off the edge of the lounge. He saw a scar that stretched from the side of her knee and ran up under the blanket that half-covered her. He edged slowly towards her bag, the journal had to be in there. He watched for any indication that she wasn't asleep but her breathing was even ...he had to do this quickly.

He crouched near her bag, pulling the zipper back as quietly as possible, glancing repeatedly towards her. He opened the bag and looked around, dammit, it wasn't in there. Where the hell could it be? Knowing her, it was probably under the damn pillow. He looked over at her and stopped, she was staring at him, a small smile playing around her lips "I can play possum just as well as you can, Dean"

He sat back on his heels and tried a smile, it didn't really work. She sat up, pulling her legs underneath her and the blanket around her. She patted the couch next to her and he got slowly to his feet "Beer?" She nodded and he came back with two and sat next to her.

"I'll answer what I can" she said quietly.

He didn't say anything for a long time. She waited him out. She knew he was struggling, trying to come to terms with what he'd done. Not quite understanding what it was and she wasn't completely sure either but the little she'd worked out from Zeke's clues…wasn't good. Wasn't good at all.

"I don't know if I want answers to my questions" he said, not looking at her as he sipped his beer.

"Fair enough. What is it you do want then? And if you go there, I'll slap you" she laughed quietly as he grinned at her "You just can't help yourself can you?"

"Nope"

"Dean…"

He sighed "Whatever we discuss, you cannot tell Sammy. Promise me"

She got up, pulling the blanket around her and went and shut the door to his room "Don't check out my arse"

"Too late"

She heard the grin in his voice as she turned. She shook her head with a smile and went and sat next to him. "I promise. Now go"

"I … how did you know I wasn't….." he trailed off.

"In control?" she asked and he nodded. She reached under her pillow and removed the journal, he had to smile. She smiled back "Where else was I gonna keep it?" she flicked open to a page and leaned towards him "Here…Zeke wrote 'Small Pinnochio' "

He frowned "I don't like puppets…small or large".

She laughed "Me either. They're unnatural. But you did get the puppet part right. The 'small' bit took me a while to figure out. Small, tiny…compact." She looked at him "I'm guessing it means that you were like a puppet during the pact. Not in control of your actions" he nodded slowly "But the problem here is, Dean...Zeke, he wrote this before he made the pact. He knew but he did it anyway." She shifted on the couch "And then here" she pointed to the page again.

Dean leaned over and looked "Pocket money?" he looked at her and she pointed to the page again "A Phoenix Remington? What the hell is he talking about?"

She laughed softly "See what I'm dealing with?"

He shook his head and sipped his beer, trying to ignore the feel of her leg against his "Jesus, he's worse than Dad"

"Okay that makes no sense to me but I can maybe guess what Zeke was trying to say" she shifted on the couch, sitting cross-legged, her journal open between the two of them "Alright, what's pocket money?"

He groaned "Don't make me guess. Just tell me"

She smiled "Nope. Self-realisation is a good thing. Now tell me"

He sighed, she just couldn't help but be annoying, he smiled, sipped his beer and thought on it "Pocket money….cash for chores….cash…." he smiled "alms…an offering"

She smiled "One hundred dollars to the man in the back row. And Phoenix?"

He grinned "Well that's easy. It…" he stopped, the smile now gone from his face.

"Yeah"

"Shit. It rises from the flames…reborn" he took a long swig of beer.

She watched him as she saw the realisation sink in. She went to take his hand but thought better of it. He turned to her "Remington?"

She smiled "Oh come on…that's the easy part" she waited, he said nothing "Remington? What's the most common use of the word 'Remington' you know?" he shrugged "Dean….."

"Winchester. And you can keep your hundred bucks"

"There's more"

He laughed "Of course there is" he got up suddenly, went to the kitchen and came back with the bottle of tequila and sat back down. He took a looong swig and offered her the bottle. "I'm gonna have a hell of a hangover tomorrow"

She took the bottle and drank "Actually, you won't. One of the benefits of self-healing. So drink up, I say" she grinned and handed the bottle back. "Now speaking of…" she paused, this was where it got tricky "I think Zeke knew we were gonna cross paths…somewhere down the line"

"What?"

"Look, this is all supposition on my part. But…you've never heard of Zeke before right?"

"Nope, but then we wouldn't know all the hunters that are around" he paused "Though an Australian working over here you'd think would spread pretty quickly through the community"

"So how would he know about you? You mentioned your Dad earlier…he's a hunter as well I'm guessing"

Dean shook his head "Was"

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't know" he nodded "I think… maybe the man Zeke spoke with about my …gift, was your Dad" he looked at her "Yeah, I know it's a leap but how else would he know about you?"

"My Dad wouldn't have told your brother anything about us. He wouldn't"

"Are you sure?" she flicked to another page "Look"

He looked, it was a phone number…well co-ordinates disguised as a phone number. Co-ordinates for that crappy town and the word 'nativity' "Nativity?" he asked.

"The co-ordinates are for this town, how would Zeke know about this place? It's in the middle of freakin' nowhere. It's not even on most maps. But here you and Sam are"

"And nativity? 'Fess up" he drank again.

"Yeah, well…that means birth"

He looked at the co-ordinates then back to her "It's your birthday today?"

She looked at her watch "Well… yesterday"

He grinned "You killed yourself on your birthday"

She laughed softly "Saves money on the headstone inscription"

He shook his head at her "And Zeke sent you here…on your birthday?"

"I'm guessing the birthday thing was just co-incidence but...he must have figured out the date you were gonna make the pact,...don't ask me how"

"So…"

"He knew you'd be there"

"And he sent you to help because he…."

"Knew you'd do the same thing he did. Now whether he wanted me to stop you or to help you …I don't know. The fact that he knew you'd be here and when you'd be here is hard enough for me to get my head around. He's been missing for two years"

"Is this the first time you've been past here?"

"Yeah, I only worked this birthday thing out day before yesterday, drove like a crazy woman to get here. Didn't know what I was looking for…and then I saw you"

"And you knew?"

She laughed "No, actually I didn't. But …" she shrugged "I think Zeke knew I'd stop. He knows I do stupid things like pick up strangers and stuff." She looked at him "But we're avoiding the big question aren't we?"

"Are we?" he took three big gulps of tequila and passed her the bottle.

"Dean"

"Drink up. No hangover remember?"

She took a big swig of tequila "Well?"

"What do you want me to say? That I was meant to pick this pact so that you would find me and give me the ability to heal myself so that I can beat these bastards? That you were sent here by your brother who, by all accounts has spent the last two years in 'Hell' . How could he possibly know? Huh?"

"Shhh. You'll wake Sam" she paused "Look, I don't know how he knew but he knew. I think he knew about the other hunters that were like him…like you and Sam. I think he also knew that you three were the last one's left. That you would do the same thing for Sam that he did for me…"

"And he wanted to stop me"

She shook her head slowly "I don't think so. And would I have been able to?"

"No"

"Didn't think so. I wouldn't have been able to stop Zeke either. You're just as stubborn as he is"

He gave her a short smile "So what is it then?"

"You know Dean"

He sighed "Tell me anyway" he took the tequila from her and drank heartily.

She watched him drink, knowing he wanted to hear the words from somewhere else, that hearing it spoken in another voice would make it more real "It's the Phoenix part" he nodded "Rising from the flames"

He looked at the tequila bottle "I didn't trade my soul"

"No. You traded Sam's"

This time she did take his hand.

To be continued...

(Note: This story has about three or four chapters til it's finished. Just letting you know that the end really IS in sight. ...grins...)