Sam eased into the front seat of the Impala, careful not to slam the door. He didn't want to risk drawing Dean's wrath if he could in any way avoid it. In fact, it seemed as if he'd spent the last six months trying to dodge his brother's temper. A temper that had only increased in the four days since they'd landed in Shartlesville, Pennsylvania.

Their return to Pennsylvania for the first time since Dean had broken things off with Sara had apparently come too soon for Dean. Sam would have been happy to hand this hunt off to Bobby, but Dean had been strangely insistent that they be the ones to handle it.

The town located only an hour from Sara's home town of Haycock boasted little in the way of entertainment, unless of course you could call a haunted Dairy Queen entertainment. Ralph Post, the owner of the ice-cream shop had been having problems with his father-in-law's spirit. Apparently, the old man, who'd had a heart attack while tossing out the trash, had been unable to deal with the fact that his son-in-law was set to inherit his shop. Dealing with Clyde, the whip cream throwing father-in-law was the easiest job the brothers had done in a while.

Not that Sam was complaining. The free ice cream they scored after ridding the owner of his father-in-law's ghost had been the best payment the brothers had received in awhile. Sam snorted as he admitted to himself that technically it had been the only payment they'd received. Regardless of how thankful people were when you dispose of their unwanted, long-dead relatives, they were never quite thankful enough to pay.

It was a little after five in the morning when they pulled out of Shartlesville. Sam, anxious to avoid his brother's surely attitude, quickly took advantage of the Impala's roomy cab, stretching out for some much-needed sleep. An hour later, Dean tapped him awake and shoved him toward a hotel room where he'd promptly collapsed on the bed farthest from the door.

Sam managed another eight hours before the need to relieve himself became overwhelming. As he made his way toward the bathroom, he sneaked a peak at his watch. Noting the time, he decided on a shower as well. Knowing Dean, his brother would be up and ready to find something to eat soon anyway.

Sam was right, within the hour Dean was showered, dressed, and ready to go. It wasn't until they left the hotel that Sam realized where his brother had chosen to stop. "We're in Quakertown," Sam said, stating the obvious.

"Thanks for the update, I hadn't realized," Dean snapped as he'd stepped up to the car.

Sam rolled his eyes and automatically followed, settling into the passenger side of the car, a million questions running through his mind. Dean had spent the last six months denying Sara's very existence. Sam couldn't imagine what had changed enough for his brother to pick a hotel only miles away from her house. As they drove into town, Sam pulled out every trick in his bag to get Dean to talk to him. His stubborn brother remained mute however, even managing to ignore Sam's puppy eyes.

Dean continued his silent act all through the drive and even into the restaurant. Finally, they were settled into a back booth at the local diner. Sam felt swamped by a wave of homesickness as they'd walked into the familiar restaurant. Though, it wasn't Sara's favorite, the one Dean chose boasted a kind wait staff and always had room for large parties. Twice over the time they'd known Sara they'd been invited on a family breakfast to this same place. Sam couldn't help but smile as he remembered the first time he'd dined out with Sara, her kids, her parents, and her brother's family.

"Stop staring at me, Sam."

Sam shrugged and glanced away unsure of what to say. Dean normally avoided speaking of the Power's family in any way. He decided to take their locale as a good sign, and dove in with both feet. "Do you remember the first time we had breakfast with them all?"

"I remember you panicked at the sight of all those kids. I swear I've seen you face vampires with more courage," Dean said with a smile.

If Sam had been anyone else his brother's causal smile would have seemed genuine. To Sam, though, it did nothing to hide the pain that caused his brother's jaw to tighten and his gaze to shift slightly. Sam, desperate to coax a true smile, played it up. "Yeah, well if I remember right, you weren't exactly Mr. Cool. You nearly choked to death when her father asked what you did for a living."

Dean's smile turned genuine. "Yeah, well, it's not like I've met a lot of overprotective Dads in my time."

Sam grinned, and cocked a finger. "Only the one's holding shotguns, huh?"

Dean's boom of laughter rang out over the low murmur of the other patrons. "Not me, Sammy. I've never needed to creep out of bedroom windows, I've always been smart enough to stick with the ones who know the score."

As soon as the words left his mouth, all the laughter died out of Dean's face. Sam's stomach dropped with disappointment as Dean rubbed a hand over his too thin face. Now that Sam really took the time to look he could see what the past six months had done to his brother. He'd lost weight, his normally rough beard was a bit longer than normal and his eyes were ringed with circles of exhaustion.

Sam leaned slightly forward, trying to form the words that would ease his brother's pain. He understood what Dean was going through. If anyone understood the pain of losing someone you loved, it was Sam. Though, Sara still breathed, the torture of staying away from her was killing his brother as surely as Jess's death had ripped Sam apart.

Unable to offer any words of comfort, Sam simply picked up his menu and asked, "What're you getting?"

888

It wasn't long after the waitress had cleared their plates and Dean had drunk his third cup of coffee that he finally broke the silence. "I've been dreaming of Sara lately."

If Sam hadn't been covertly watching his brother, he might have missed the softly spoken words. Dean's eyes were pinned to his cup and both hands were wrapped tight around it. Sam opted for silence, content to wait to hear the reason they'd come back to the area.

Dean looked up. "I've been dreaming about her. Bad dreams."

Sam, unsure of what Dean was saying, offered, "Dean, I dreamt about Jess a lot, after. It's not surprising."

Dean shook his head, leaning forward to press his point. "No, you don't understand, Sam. These aren't 'crap I've made the biggest mistake of my life' dreams. They're nightmares." Dean turned to look out the window as he continued speaking, "She's in the woods and I can't get to her." Dean paled even farther, as he relived the dream. "She needs me, Sam. And I can't…" Dean's voice dropped to a whisper, "I can't save her."

Sam sat back, floored, as memories assaulted him, beating him down until he felt ready to vomit. He'd dreamed about Jess for days before she'd died. Repeatedly, he'd dreamt of her fiery death only to dismiss the visions for nightmares. Instinct took over, Sam reached into his pocket pulled out his money clip and tossed a couple of bills on the table. Moving to stand, he was surprised when Dean reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Sam, wait."

Sam looked at him in confusion. "What, Dean, we need to make sure she's okay."

Dean tugged on Sam's arm, pulling the younger man back into his seat. "Just listen to me. When I found out we'd be in the area, I called Bobby and asked if he'd seen her lately."

Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise, as far as he knew, Dean hadn't talked to Bobby about anything even slightly resembling Sara in months. The older hunter had been way too vocal about Dean's decision to leave the woman Bobby considered to be family. "You called, Bobby?"

"Yeah, I wasn't going to come even this close if everything seemed on the up and up." Dean signaled to the waitress for a refill.

"God, Dean, you're going to end up with an ulcer," Sam said referring to the fact that Dean'd been mainlining coffee for a couple of months now.

Dean grimaced down into his coffee cup before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right, let's just get out of here."

Sam nodded his accord and followed his brother out into the cool night air. Glancing up, Sam admired the bright orange full moon that hovered near the horizon. It was the familiar sound of the Impala's door opening that caught his attention. A glance toward the car showed Dean already in and waiting. After one last look at the moon, Sam followed suit.

Once settled inside the Impala, Sam hesitated, unsure of what he should say. At last he settled for a question. "So has Bobby talked to her?"

Dean nodded, his hands resting lightly in his lap, as he stared out at the nearly empty parking lot. "Yeah, he talks to her at least once a week. I got the impression he's still concerned that Gordon's disappearance might be traced back to her."

Sam nodded in understanding. He'd spoken to Bobby several times in regard to that same subject. Though they both felt sure Sara was safe, neither one was willing to relax just yet. Even a chance link between Sara and Gordon, or even Sara and the Winchesters would be enough to put her and her family at risk. Gordon might not have had a lot of close friends but the few he did have were dedicated to finding out what had become of the hunter.

The fact that he'd been shot and cremated on Sara's property, his ashes buried deep in the woods, only increased everyone's unease. So far, luck had been on their side. It seemed as if Gordon hadn't spoken to anyone about his vendetta against Sam. Bobby figured he'd been too embarrassed about coming out on the bottom after each encounter with the brothers to say much to anyone.

"However, he hasn't seen her in a month or so. He's been in the western part of the country and hasn't gotten back this way," Dean said, his hands reaching up to grip the steering wheel.

"Yeah, but if Bobby's talking to her, I'm sure she's fine." Sam wasn't sure, but other than reassure his brother, what else could he say. He had little doubt that Dean's dreams were simply manifestations of guilt and unhappiness. After all, his big brother wasn't the psychic in the family.

"Not good enough, Sam. You know Sara, even if something was wrong, she'd never say a word. That's why I stopped here in town. I need to make sure she's okay."

Sam lifted a brow in surprise. "You wanna stop by the house?"

Dean seemed to consider Sam's words for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I think that'd be best."

Sam nearly whooped with joy at the idea of going home. He'd missed Sara and the kids more than he ever could have imagined. Unable to tear himself completely out of the Power's life he'd been e-mailing the kids. Careful to exchange no more than silly stories and observations about the countryside, he'd learned very little in return. Unsurprising as seven year olds weren't very observant of the world around them. Oh, he knew what movies they'd last seen, what each was up to in school, and the fact that Jessie'd moved out of her crib and into a 'big bed', but that was pretty much it. He had no idea how Sara had handled Dean's leaving or of the repercussions Gordon's attack'd had on her and her family.

"Of course, we can't let her know we're there."

Dean's statement shot down Sam's every hope. "What?"

Dean glanced toward Sam, his face drawn tight. "I can't just pop in and say, 'hey how's things?' then leave again, Sam. It's not fair. The only way to do this is for her to never know we're there."

Sam snorted, his frustration with his brother quickly overcoming his pity. "What're we gonna do? Hide in the bushes and peek in her windows?"

"Worked with you," Dean said, anger filling his tone.

Sam jerked around to face Dean, anger rolling right over his earlier frustration. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

In the face of Sam's fury, Dean seemed to calm. "What'd you think, Sam? I let you go off to Stanford without keeping tabs on you. Come on, I spent 18 years watching over you. You walking out of that door wasn't going to change anything."

"But, you said Dad…" Sam sputtered, unbalanced by the idea that Dean had snuck around campus checking up on him.

Dean paused for a moment before turning the key in the ignition. "Dad's the one that said, 'Stay Gone', not me." Dean's low voice was barely discernable over the roar of the engine.

Sam leaned back in his seat unable to formulate a response. On one hand, the fact that his brother'd had his back during one of the most difficult times in his life reassured him in a way he'd never be able to understand. On the other, the idea that Dean had felt he still needed looking after re-awoke the long dormant urge to be free of the confines of his family. Sam blew out a breath and pushed everything away, now wasn't the time. He was sure he'd have plenty of other opportunities to wonder at just how abnormal his life was another time.

"Seriously, Dean, do you even have a plan? Cause I'm not going to peep in Sara's windows." Sam crossed his arms over his chest, hating just how defensive his voice sounded.

"Of course I have a plan."

888

"Dean, this is stupid and immature," Sam spoke low into the cell phone he held to his ear as he edged closer to the brightly lit kitchen window.

"Just shut up and do it, Sam. We need to get out of here before Jack realizes anyone's around."

Sam cursed as he tripped yet again. "Tell me once more, why we can't just go to the front door and knock?"

"You know why, Sam."

The pain in Dean's voice was enough to make Sam relent. Though he still thought this the stupidest of ideas, he couldn't help but feel pity for his brother. As he moved ever closer to the kitchen window, his cell phone pressed up against his ear, he silently berated himself for ever agreeing to this. "I still don't see why I couldn't just walk up to the door, Dean. I mean I get why you don't feel you can, but she--"

"Will you just cut the crap and do it already, Sam? My God, just take a look make sure everything's okay. That's all I'm asking."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's irritated voice, but the gesture was wasted on the cell phone. No matter, he planned to do plenty of eye-rolling when he got back to the car. He still didn't understand how he'd ended up here in Sara's back yard, cell phone in hand as he peeped in her windows.

At last, Sam eased toward the house, careful to just barely peep over the windowsill. In an instant, his earlier feelings of homesickness returned with a vengeance. Sara stood by the kitchen table, Jess on a stool by her side. The two of them were focused on the bowl that Sara held. Jess was nearly dancing she was so excited. He was so used to the footy pajamas she usually wore that he was shocked to see how grown up she looked in her tiny, ruffled, pink nightgown. Jim sat at the table, a notebook spread out before him as he worked on what was obviously homework. His hair was longer than normal, though his dimpled grin hadn't changed a bit.

A moment later, Mike came running into the room. He had a Spiderman backpack slung over one shoulder and was shouting something to his mom. As he dropped his bag at the table, he chatted as he pulled papers from his backpack. Sam felt an ache in his chest as he realized just how much he'd missed Mike's chatter.

As he watched, he was surprised by the sound of a vehicle coming down the drive. For an instant he thought it was the Impala, or maybe he just hoped. Instead, the low smooth growl of an expensive engine filled the night air.

"Sam, you've got company," Dean's voice hissed through the night air.

Sam nodded before realizing the futility of the gesture. "Got it," he whispered, ducking down a little to ensure he wasn't seen.

He heard the slam of car doors and the low mutter of voices. A moment later, Jack sent up a fuss and the kids began to clamor in excitement. From his vantage point, Sam could easily see the front door. He watched as Jess jumped from her perch and went running toward the entrance, her tiny legs pumping fast to ensure she reached it first.

Unfortunately, she couldn't compete with her brothers and her squeal of fury echoed through the house as Jim ducked in front of her and wrenched open the door.

She stood near the kitchen table, only her profile visible to Sam. As he watched Sara's mother-in-law Judy stepped into the kitchen reaching out for a hug. Sam smiled softly as he watched the two women. He knew Sara well enough to know she barely tolerated the woman, and that little bit only for the children's sake. Though Sara's husband had been gone for nearly four years now, Judy still tried her best to direct every aspect of the Power's family. Only Sara's constant vigilance had kept the overbearing woman from running roughshod over her these last couple of years.

Sam's bout of nostalgia ended when he saw a tall man step up behind Judy. At first, he assumed it was Judy's husband. It wasn't until the bright glow of the kitchen lights illuminated the man that Sam realized it wasn't.