"She doesn't look good," Sam commented as he pulled a clean shirt from his bag.

Dean refused to look up at his brother, but didn't ignore his statement. "No, she doesn't. Don't forget to put the weapons up high, I'm sure Jess can open closet doors by now."

Sam dropped to his bed and rested his elbows on his knees. "Do you think? God, it's hard to believe how much she must have grown since we last saw her."

"Don't, Sam. Just don't. I did what I did to protect those kids as much as Sara. I won't back down now. We'll catch an hour of sleep and be on our way before the kids even realize we were here."

Dean resolutely ignored the look of pain that graced his brother's features. Ignoring the stab of guilt that hit him square in the chest, Dean moved toward his bed. He'd been surprised to say the least that Sara hadn't changed the room at all. It looked the same as it had the day he'd walked out except for one thing. The snapshot he'd had of himself and Sara lying in the hammock in the back yard was gone. Sam had snapped the pictured one lazy Sunday afternoon. Once he'd decided to leave he'd removed the picture from his wallet and had left in tucked into the mirror frame. It was gone now, and honestly, Dean wasn't sure what to make of that.

He dropped down on his bed and stretched out on his back, his bootless feet crossed at the ankles. He'd thought long and hard about what he needed to do to make this right and the only thing he'd come up with was to leave just as soon as humanly possible. Even if Brian were on vacation, he and Sam would use Sara's jeep for the time being and hide out at the hotel. At least then he wouldn't involve the kids in his mistake. With a plan of action to follow, Dean rolled on to his side, his hand automatically slipping beneath his pillow. "Just get some sleep, Sam, we'll be out of here before you know it."

888

One minute Dean was asleep, his hand resting lightly against his knife, and the next he was standing up blinking in confusion. The early morning light that shined through the windows let him know that he'd only been asleep maybe an hour and a half. Sam was blinking groggily, his hair sticking up at all angles.

"What's going on, Dean? What's with Jack?"

That's when it registered that the noise that had awoken him had been Jack. The dog was going bezerk, his barking had reached new heights, and he was apparently throwing himself against something. Dean didn't bother with his boots but grabbed his knife. He'd secured his gun in his duffle bag and had placed it in the closet for safety's sake but now he regretted the action. As he darted out of the bedroom and into the dining room, the noise increased. He was making his way toward the living room when he saw Jimmy dart down the stairs, his intention clearly the front door. Without thinking, Dean launched himself toward the boy, grabbing him just as Jim managed to get the door open.

Jack, seeing the opening, began to earnestly claw at the door. Afraid that the dog was about to claw his way through the door, Dean just about tossed Jim to Sam and grabbed Jack by the collar. Arms straining, Dean planted his feet and began to pull Jack from the doorway. Step by step he worked to force the one hundred and eighty pound dog away. Problem was every time he thought Jack had relented a bit he would ease up only to have the animal lunge again. Dean knew the dog was choking from the pressure on its throat but it still continued to snarl and snap.

If it weren't for the fact that Jack's rage was directed at the front door Dean would have thought the animal had gone crazy. It was then that Mike leapt between the dog and the door. It was as if someone flipped a switch in Jack's head. One minute it was all Dean could do to keep him from charging the door and then he just stopped. Dean could feel the strain in his forearms from the effort he'd put into holding the dog and he wondered just what he could have done if the dog hadn't stopped.

"Jack, behave," Michael scolded his small thin arms wrapping around the dog in a big hug. "You know Mom said you'd have to stay locked up if you didn't behave."

The dog, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, rolled his eyes at Mike and whined a bit. Just like that Jack dropped to the ground in a heap. The only sign of his earlier rage was the slight growl that still rumbled deep in his chest. Dean didn't have a chance to wonder about the animal's behavior for long. One moment he was trying to catch his breath and the next Michael had let loose a squeal of delight and was throwing himself at Dean.

Michael's arms wrapped around Dean's neck in an embrace tight enough to choke him, Dean couldn't care less as he lifted the seven year old off the ground with a growl.

"What the hell are you doing to that child?"

At the sound of the voice, working on pure instinct alone, Dean swung Michael to his side, using his own body to shield Sara's son. "Who the hell are you?" Dean snapped as he felt Sam step up beside him.

The man that had pushed open the front door stood in the entry. He was tall, closer to Sam in height than Dean. His hair was dark with just the lightest bit of silver threaded through the sides, his eyes were very pale blue and his features were pulled down in a frown. "Put that child down," the man's voice brooked no argument and he took a step forward.

Jack's low growl grew, the dog gained his feet once more, his gaze locked on the man that had entered the house.

Dean shifted Mike slightly ensuring his right hand was free and shifted his glance toward Sam. Jimmy stood at Sam's side his arm locked around his brother's waist. Dean's attention focused once more on the intruder. "Listen, pal, I don't know who the hell you are, but I'm not the one that just walked unannounced into someone's house."

"That's Greg," Mike whispered in Dean's ear.

Greg, great thought Dean, not only did the kids now know they were here but he had to witness the man that Sara was dating walking into her house 6:30 in the morning. Really, though Winchester luck was never good, Dean could usually count on it being a bit better than this. "Greg, huh?" Dean said as he gave Mike one last squeeze and released him. "Hey, kiddo, why don't you take Jack back to our room and shut him in. He doesn't seem too happy."

"K, come on, Jack," Michael said as he grabbed the dog by his collar.

"Michael, I don't think you should be touching that dog. He seems upset," Greg said as he stepped closer to Jack obviously intending to interfere.

"I wouldn't do that unless you wanna lose a hand, Jack's obviously not a big fan of yours," Sam piped up.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's honesty. If it had been left up to him, the dog would have been welcome to take a chuck out of the bastard's hand. "Jim run upstairs and let your mom know you've got company."

Jim obeyed instantly stopping only long enough to wrap his arms around Dean's waist for a quick hug. Dean squeezed the boy in return and ruffled his hair. "Go on now."

Though Greg looked relaxed his eyes never left Michael as the boy physically drug Jack out of the room. It was a testament to Jack's love and loyalty that he went with him. Dean didn't understand, Sara had trained Jack well and Dean had never seen the animal so upset over someone he'd already been introduced to.

Dean felt his brother shift closer, Sam's shoulder was nearly touching his own now. Dean knew it was Sam's way of backing him up and if he were honest, he could use the support. He had expected to be long gone by now, not standing in Sara's living room entertaining her new boyfriend.

"So, Sara, doesn't care that you walk right in?" Dean asked, trying his best to sound normal.

Greg was about to answer when a pair of feet came flying down the stairs. At the sight of the tiny, bright purple, slippered, feet scrambling down the stairs, Dean moved forward. He knew Jess was moving too fast to stop herself but he was too far away to do anything about it. Just as she came fully into view, the inevitable happened and she tripped.

Greg, closest to the stairs, was the one that snagged the little girl out of the air. Wrapped securely in his arms, Jessie proceeded to let loose a cry that resembled the yowl of a cat being stepped on. Greg seemed surprised when Jess began to beat her feet against him, her cries of protest growing in volume. At last, the bewildered man gave up trying to calm her and released her.

In a flash Jess was across the room, her face red, her nose snotty, her breath hitching in her chest she threw herself against Dean. He never hesitated. Up and into his arms he pulled her. As her tiny arms wrapped tight around his neck she continued to sob. Though Dean considered himself close to all three of Sara's children, Jess had always held a special place in his heart. As different from her mother in appearance as it was possible to be, Jess, nonetheless, was Sara's exact copy. Their shared traits included everything from the way they both regarded the world with equal amounts of suspicion and wonder, to their sensitivity to others and their needs. Watching Jess grow up was like catching a glimpse into Sara's past.

If he allowed himself to consider, for even a minute, everything he'd missed in the last six months his heart would break. Instead, he turned his back on Greg, trusting Sam to keep watch and moved toward the living room fireplace, his big hand making soothing circles on the little girls back. "Shhh, I got ya, Sweet."

Jess's noises ceased to sound so much like cries and began to resemble words. Dean was suddenly glad he was fluent in 'Jessiespeak' as she began to babble. "Dee, you were gone." Seemed to be the complaint she voiced most often. It was also the one that pierced Dean's heart every time he heard it.

Unable to do much else, Dean put his lips to the little one's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry, honey."

Jess released her stranglehold a bit and pulled back, staring into Dean's green eyed gaze. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "That's k."

Like that the tears ended, the only sign she'd ever been upset was her snotty nose. Out of the blue a handkerchief was handed over Dean's shoulder. As he accepted the clean cloth from his brother, he worked on gaining his composure back. He gently began to wipe the little girls face as he listened for Sara. After all the racket they'd made he couldn't believe she hadn't thundered down the stairs with a loaded weapon in hand.

"Dean," Sam said, as he reached out to grab Jess from him.

Dean relinquished the babe with a kiss to the top of her head and turned toward the stairs. Jim stood there, a slightly panicked air about him. "Mom's not in her room."

"No, worries, buddy. Go check the bulletin board in the kitchen. If she left to run an errand, it'll be on the board." Ignoring the man that still stood by the base of the stairs, Dean exchanged glances with Sam before he moved toward the steps. He knew Sara would never have left without letting the Winchesters know, especially when she was unsure of how long they'd be staying. As he put his foot on the riser a hand snaked out and held him tight.

"Who are you, and what gives you the right to search Sara's home?" Greg's tone implied that he knew perfectly well who Dean was but he wanted to hear it from the elder Winchester.

"Who I am is none of your business. In fact," here Dean threw off the hand that held him, "why don't you just get gone. Sara'll call you later."

"So what you just waltz back in here and I'm supposed to roll-over?" Greg's tone suggested he had no intention of letting that happen.

Dean stood, his back to the stranger and gritted his teeth. What he wanted to do was to turn and throw a punch at the man that was forcing his hand. What he should do was pack up Sammy and get gone. Torn between the two, Dean shelved the issue and continued up the stairs. As he made his way up he strained his hearing trying to figure out of Greg was bold enough to follow. Instead of hearing Greg he heard his brother say, "Hey, Mike why don't you let Jack out?"

Dean had to grin, apparently, Sam wasn't all too happy about the stranger that was obviously interested in something more than Sara's friendship. Jack's loud growls filled the room below once more ensuring that Greg wouldn't be breeching the second floor. As Dean approached Sara's open bedroom door he found himself hoping beyond hope that she was in the shower and Jim just hadn't thought to check.

Thoughts of Sara in Gordon Walker's hands filled Dean's head as he searched the bedroom and found nothing out of place. As he glanced at her bed, he noticed she had gotten a new bedspread. He found his mind skittered away from what might have made her want to change bedding they'd slept in together.

Dean stepped up to Sara's adjoining bathroom and knocked on the closed door. Unable to hear the shower, he stood undecided. He hadn't even planned on still being here, and now, he was about to barge in on her. Drawing a deep breath, he swallowed hard and entered the room. Sara's bathroom was tiny to say the least. There was barely room for the toilet, sink with a cabinet underneath and the shower stall that took up one full wall.

Relief flooded through him as he heard the sound of the shower. Content that she was okay and simply hadn't heard the racket, Dean began to back out of the room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized the hazy figure he could see through the frosted glass was slumped on the shower floor. "Sara?" he called. Fear clenched his chest when his call produced no reaction.

In a heartbeat, Dean stepped forward and rapped his hand on the glass door trying to summon a reaction from the woman inside. All he could imagine was that she had somehow fallen and bumped her head. At the sound of his knock Sara, literally, jumped a mile.

"Shit," she cried out as she rolled back one side of the shower door and poked her head through.

Her cry perfectly echoed Dean's own sentiment. Dean held up his hands in surrender and pasted a somewhat weak smile on his face. "Whoa, Sara, sorry I called out but you didn't answer", Dean said, figuring in this case the best defense was a good offense.

"I…I guess I didn't hear you. What are you doing up?" Sara asked her voice still breathless from her fright.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on edge. A glance around the bathroom showed him a towel sitting on the edge of the counter top. For his own self-preservation, he reached out, snagged the towel, and passed it to Sara.

Trying to gather his now splintered thoughts, Dean turned his back on her as she began toweling off. Though the door was nearly opaque, her outline was more temptation than he needed. "Everybody's up."

"The kids are awake, what time is it?" Sara asked.

"About seven, Jack woke everyone up," Dean answered as he reached out and grabbed her thick, white, terry-cloth robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door. "You've got company," he said as held out the robe to her.

"Company?" she asked the surprise in her voice to genuine to be contrived.

The flash of her slender arm and her smooth shoulder as she leaned out to accept the robe from him was enough to make Dean lose his train of thought again. "Huh?"

"Who's here?" Sara asked enunciating each word as she slid the shower door wide open.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off her as she stepped out of the shower and faced him. Last night in the dim light, he'd noticed a slight change in her appearance, but here, now, in the harsh light of the bathroom the changes were tenfold.

Sara was a woman that loved the outdoors, gardening, lawn work, playing with her kids and simply sunbathing were pastimes she loved and did often. Normally, her skin reflected that love in the form of a year round tan. Not now, though, now, every bit of color seemed leached out of her skin. All except the dark bruise-like shadows that encircled her eyes. Her cheekbones appeared more defined and the vee of her bathrobe allowed him to see that her collarbone was more pronounced than ever.

Hating that he might be the cause of these changes, Dean dropped his eyes and shrugged, "Some older guy, named Greg." As Sara's eyes fogged over in confusion, Dean made a break for the bathroom door. Just before he left, he blurted out, "I'm sorry, Sara, I wasn't planning on staying, but Jack was going nuts."

"Greg's here?" Sara asked it was obvious she was still struggling to catch up to the conversation.

Dean said not a word, just nodded and left.

888

As she watched Dean walk out of the bathroom, Sara struggled to figure out what was going on. The appearance of Dean in her bathroom had left her out of sorts to say the least. As an added bonus, she had no clue as to why Greg might be here, especially so early. Still fighting confusion, Sara headed out to her bedroom expecting to find it empty. Instead, Dean stood at the doorway, facing out into the hall, his back to her. When she entered the room he asked, "Do you need Sam and I to leave?"

Sara schooled her emotions, carefully, before she allowed herself to answer. "You're always welcome here." The scary thing was, despite the ravages his leaving had left on her world, she meant it.

Dean didn't acknowledge her, he just left, shutting the door softly behind him. Suddenly, Sara couldn't dress fast enough. Ripping through her closet, she kept an ear out for anything signifying the two men that were now in her living room were coming to blows.

Not that either one was interested in her that way. Dean had made it clear he no longer wanted her, and she was fairly certain after seeing her in the harsh light of the bathroom he hadn't changed his mind. Greg had also made it known that he was only interested in friendship. So really, there was nothing to worry about. These reassurances didn't stop Sara from throwing on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt and running a quick brush through her hair. Still barefoot, she darted out of the room and down the hallway in record time.

Down the steps she went, slowing once she neared the bottom. Noting the empty living room, she headed for the kitchen. A pang of homesickness shot through her at the smell of fresh made coffee. It had been over six months since she'd awoken to that smell. It seemed a lifetime had passed since she'd been anything other than a mom.

Impatient with her own weakness, Sara ran her hands under her eyes wiping away any signs of her upset and stepped into the kitchen. It took only a minute to realize that things were even worse off than she'd thought.

Greg stood by the doorway one shoulder leaning against the wall. He seemed completely at ease except for the tiny muscle in his jaw that jumped uncontrollably. Dean stood near the window sipping from a coffee cup. Jess rested on Dean's hip and he seemed to be listening to her intently. Sara would have been a lot more willing to believe Dean's nonchalance pose if it wasn't for the fact that Sam stood right next to him. Sara had learned long ago that the brothers' body language, in regards to each other, conveyed a wide range of emotions. Only problem was, Sara wasn't sure if Sam was offering comfort or if the younger man was by his brother's side to stop Dean from doing something stupid.

The tableau was finished off with Jimmy sitting at the table drinking a glass of juice and chatting away to the Winchesters, while Mike lay on the floor near Jack, stroking the big dog's head. Jack was another male in her life that seemed content but she knew better. He was more likely just waiting for an excuse to rip into Greg.

Sara was unsure of the cause, but for some reason Greg and Jack just didn't hit it off. She thought it might be the fact that Greg wasn't overly fond of the dog. Jack was too hairy and slobbery for Greg and the Saint Bernard's size seemed to make him nervous. Jack, in return, seemed to go out of his way to be nasty to the older man.

Judy, Sara's mother-in-law, had introduced her to Greg about three months ago. At first, Sara, sure that Judy was trying to fix her up with the handsome man, had kept her distance. It was only as she continued to run into him around town that she came to actually enjoy his company. He seemed to be genuinely interested in her children and he never pushed for anything approaching a romantic relationship. New to the area, Greg had asked Sara to act as a tour guide for him. She'd happily accepted knowing that time spent with him was less time she had to contemplate the black hole in her life that Dean's loss had created.

However, lately she had to admit she was a bit thrown off by his sudden boldness. Though he professed otherwise it seemed as if he were in fact looking for more than friendship. So far Sara had ignored his advances. She was confident that if she relegated him to the role of friend, he would eventually accept it and look for romance elsewhere. Now when faced with him in her kitchen at seven o'clock in the morning she found her confidence wavering. Not bothering to hide her annoyance she asked, "Greg, what are you doing here?"

888

Sam stood shoulder to shoulder with Dean absentmindedly answering Jimmy's questions. Earlier, as his brother had gone upstairs to fetch Sara, Sam had been surprised to find that Greg was confident enough in his relationship with Sara to boldly step after his brother. On impulse, Sam had found himself calling out to Mike to let Jack loose. Like a bullet, the dog had shot from the back corner of the house to plant himself in front of the stairs and Greg, with a low growl. Sam didn't bother to hide his grin. Turning from the handsome man, he'd headed for the kitchen to make some coffee.

Sam, with Jess still holding him tight, had been pouring Jim a drink when Dean had returned from the upstairs. His brother's overly casual, "She was in the shower," did nothing to hide Dean's anxiety from Sam. Greg, however, seemed to buy it with no problem, if the man's red-hot glare was any indication. Sam had given Jess over to Dean and had made himself a cup of coffee before settling beside him to wait.

Now, as he watched Sara enter the kitchen, Sam understood just why his brother was so upset. Sara was nothing but a pale comparison of what she once was. Too skinny, too pale and obviously overtired, the normally beautiful mother of three looked older than her years.

"Greg, what are you doing here?"

As she spoke, Sam noticed her voice sounded a bit rougher than normal. He found himself wondering if she was sick or if it was stress from the current situation that was causing the roughness. Sam watched the interaction between Sara and the stranger carefully, hoping that her question would cause him a bit of embarrassment, but the man answered confidently.

"I thought we were bike riding today?" he answered taking a step closer to Sara.

A flicker of a smile crossed Dean's face as Jack let loose a threatening growl. Greg stepped back with a nervous glance toward the animal.

"Knock it off, Jack," Dean said a hint of laughter in his voice as he turned to Sam and handed Jessie to him. "Here, Jess, I'm gonna make Mom some coffee, Sam'll hold you."

Jess held her arms out to Sam with a grin and automatically asked, "Panicakes, Sam?"

"Please," Mike, echoed as he jumped up from Jack's side.

The moment Michael moved away from Jack, the dog gained his feet and began growling in earnest, his dark brown eyes focused on Greg. Sam really couldn't fathom just why, the normally placid, Jack was upset, but the animal's fierceness set his nerves on fire. Catching Dean's eye, Sam was glad to see that he was taking Jack's dislike seriously. At his brother's slight nod, Sam turned toward the kids and said, "Pancakes it is."

The chorus of "yay's" that greeted his statement made the house feel like home for the first time since they arrived. Sam pulled out a chair at the table and dropped Jess in the seat, with a wave of his hand he said, "Out of here, boys. I can't have you learning my secret recipe."

Both boys grumbled good naturedly as they skipped out of the room. As they filed out, Jack made as if to follow them only to stop at the last second to stare back at Greg. Sam's unease grew at the dog's obvious reluctance to let the man out of his sight. Dean's low, "Go, Jack," seemed to be enough for the animal.

The level of noise went down considerably as the boys and the dog filed out. Sam set about gathering the necessary ingredients, his secret being Aunt Jemima's pancake mix, and began to make breakfast. Dean, in the meantime, pulled out Sara's favorite mug, and filled it. He then opened the cabinet and retrieved the chocolate flavored creamer that Sara preferred. Sam couldn't help but notice that the more Dean fussed over the mug, the angrier Greg seemed to grow. The angrier Greg grew the more that Dean fussed. Sam wanted to laugh as he noticed that his brother's grin seemed brighter than it had in months.

"I thought you were going to call when you were ready?" Sara asked, as she accepted the cup from Dean.

Sam knew that Greg couldn't be happy with the fact that Sara looked so comfortable. She had taken a seat at the table and was now sipping her coffee while jess babbled away on her lap. In fact, if Sam ignored the stranger in the room it seemed like nothing had changed. Unfortunately, the stranger was hard to ignore.

The older man frowned and answered, "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would be a problem. I was figuring on taking you all out for breakfast before our ride. I see now that I should have called first."

Sara seemed oblivious to Greg's irritation. "We're going to have to cancel, no way are the kids going to want to go, now."

Dean's grin grew a little wider. As he reached out to grab Sara's now empty cup, he offered, "Sara, if you have plans…"

Sara shook her head as she assured Dean, "No, we'll stay home. But you can stay for breakfast if you'd like, Greg."

A snort of laughter burst from Sam as Dean's expression went from overconfident to incredulous. So deadpanned was Sara's delivery that he would have believed she was truly oblivious to the tension in the room, if she hadn't chosen that moment to tip Sam a wink. Sam couldn't help but grin, after all, the girl deserved to get a bit of revenge.