A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. They are truly appreciated. Jenna's in this chapter. I have worked in the child protective field, and always hate the way CPS is portrayed in movies, books and tv shows, so I've tried t write Jenna as the ultimate caseworker:) I plan to bring her back from time to time, so feel free to tell me what you think of her.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Enjoy!

Dean was aimlessly driving, changing directions at random. After their fight, and Dean hauling MJ back to the car, the siblings went back to their tense silence. This time MJ had no intentions of breaking it. Dean did stop at a relatively clean gas station. MJ got out of the car without a word and headed inside as Dean got out to pump gas. Sam joined MJ, buying a box of powdered sugar doughnuts and three coffees. Once back in the car, Sam helped himself to a doughnut before passing the box silently to MJ. He then placed the box in the middle of the dash and pushed it toward Dean. Dean eyed the box, but never took his hands off the steering wheel, his anger toward Sam still plain on his face. He did take the coffee, though.

Around ten in the morning, Dean started to head west into Pennsylvania. They made two more short stops throughout the day, and nine hours later they arrived in Dayton, Ohio, and Dean announced they would stay there for the night. Dean must have been running on pure adrenaline and fury, driving fourteen hours straight after being up all night.

Dean pulled up to a bar called Little Stevie's just outside the city limits. It looked like a real dive, but the worn sign said they served food, which was really their only criteria. Dean parked the car and headed inside, Sam and MJ following in his wake. MJ was dead on her feet. She was longing for a comfortable bed, and dreading closing her eyes all at once. Dean picked a booth in the back and immediately grabbed a menu. After they ordered, the silence continued. It wasn't nearly as tense and awkward as it had been in the car, since the restaurant was so noisy, but it still irritated the hell out of MJ. After about ten minutes she huffed and swiftly got out of the booth.

"Bathroom." She snapped as she stormed away. Dean scanned the bar area, watching MJ as she made her way into the ladies' room. Dean then busied himself with gawking at a group of girls gathered at a high top table in the bar area.

Sam couldn't hold it in any longer.

"You know what, Dean? This is bullshit." Sam said, looking his brother in the eye. Dean just looked back at him, completely bemused. "Do you even comprehend what happened to her back there?" He lowered his voice. "What he almost did to her? And your solution is to scream at her and then ignore her?" Sam shook his head. "She's hurting Dean."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean asked leaning across the table toward his brother. "What would you have me do? She doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't want me in her business. She made that clear when she went to you and kept me in the dark."

"She's a kid, Dean. She doesn't know what she wants. What she needs."

"Exactly. Which is why I blame you for not coming to me instead of promising her you wouldn't."

Sam made no response.

"You know what? You talk to her." Dean said sliding out of the booth. "She prefers you anyway." He said before walking away.

Dean went straight to the front door and stormed out. He strolled across the parking lot, running his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths. He felt like a grade A asshole, no two ways about it. He was frustrated with MJ for keeping him in the dark about McWhorter. He was furious with Sam for not coming to him right away. Most of all, he was completely disgusted with himself for reacting the way he did. Give him a monster, he'd kill it. Someone messes with one of his siblings, he'll lay them out. It was the aftermath of the fight where he was lacking. He and his father didn't discuss their feelings. It simply wasn't done. But he didn't want MJ keeping that all locked up inside, eating away at her. Considering he couldn't beat it out of her, he had no idea how to help her work through it.

Dean made his way back inside, went to the bar, and ordered a shot of tequila. He downed it quickly, and returned to the parking lot, his throat still burning. Before he could think better of it, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

She answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Jenna, hey. It's Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Hi, Dean. Is everything okay with MJ?"

Dean started to say "Fine" but instead a frsutrated, growling sigh escpaed his lips.

Jenna laughed. And rather than becoming annoyed, Dean found that the sound of her laughter actually put him at ease. "I know that sound." She said. "That's the 'I have an angsty, hormonal teenager whose stubborn as hell' sigh. What'd she do?"

Dean was pacing the parking lot, engrossed in his conversation. "It's what she isn't doing that's got me going." he said. "She won't talk to me. I mean she talks to me, but she won't talk to me, ya know?"

Jenna mercifully did not laugh at Dean's struggle to explain. "She's still not opening up. She's keeping important things from you?"

"Bingo. And there was some pretty serious stuff going on that I found out after the fact. She put herself in danger by keeping it from me." Dean said. A voice in his head was telling him to shut up. Asking him what he was doing telling the child protective worker that MJ had been in grave peril. But a louder, more prevalant voice was cheering him on, fueled by the overwhelming sense of relief and comfort that came from confiding in her.

"Is she in danger now?"

"No, I took care of it, but it was a close call."

Jenna paused before responding, taking a deep breath. "Dean, do you remember when you first came to get MJ? I showed you the conditions MJ was living in."

"How could I forget?"

"I didn't show you that for dramatic effect. I wanted you to get a sense of what your sister had been through. She hasn't had an easy life, Dean. And she hasn't had anyone that she could trust to take care of her. She learned that she could only count on herself. That's not something you can remedy in a few short months.

"Well what do I have to say to convince her I'm not going anywhere? That she can trust me?"

"Well, for starters you can say just that. 'I'm not going anwhere. You can trust me.' Tell her that everyday. Every hour on the hour, if need be. Whenever she's being defiant or tight lipped." Jenna paused. "But more important than what you say, is what you do. Dean, you have to be excessively patient with her, but persisent. Show her that she can't push you away and that no matter what kind of crap she pulls, you're not going to toss her out like yesterday's trash. That's what she's waiting for. For you to get sick of taking care of her and give her the boot."

Dean scoffed. "She knows I would never do that no matter what she did."

"Are you sure about that, Dean?"

"That I would never give her the boot? Yeah, I'm sure."

"No, that she really believes that."

He made no response.

"You've got to earn her trust, Dean. She's not going to make it easy. But I have a feeling you Winchesters like a challenge."

"Mmm. True. The problem is I can't win this one with brute force and that's my usual MO."

"Dean, I have complete faith in you. Now go prove me right."

Dean talked with Jenna for a few more minutes. She not so subtly reminded him that MJ needed to keep up on her school work, which Dean was certain she hadn't touched since before they were at Bobby's. Jenna also asked about counseling and Dean explained that with all the moving around, it was difficult to get her established with a therapist. He left out the fact that MJ told the last counselor that if she spent another minute talking to him she would be forced to hang herself, and promised Jenna he would get her back in to see someone.

Dean headed back inside, the knots in his stomach and pounding in his head slightly lessened. Now starving, he walked swiftly past the bar toward their table. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the bar, hoping he had been mistaken. MJ was seated on a bar stool, leaning in towards a guy in army fatigues. They were watching something on his smartphone. Well, MJ was focused on the video. The guy was enjoying the view MJ's posture had created. His eyes were practically glued to her chest. MJ either didn't notice or didn't care. Dean stood there, frozen, as the bartender brought them two shots, and after toasting one another, they slammed them. MJ shivered slightly and whooped before setting the glass back down, and laughing hysterically at something the guy had said. Dean considered her carefully. She was drowning her pain. And she seemed frighteningly comfortable doing it. Trying to keep his cool and Jenna's advice at the forefront of his mind, Dean made his way over to them. He stood behind them, his arms crossed, wiating for her to notice him. They were back to watching the video on his phone, and Dean saw it was footage from a kickboxing match. Dean rolled his eyes when he recognized one of the fighters as the tool sitting in front of him.

"Another shot?" the guy asked her when the video ended. She looked up to answer him and caught Dean's eye. Her smile vanished and she sighed heavily as she got unsteadily to her feet.

"Hey, Dean." She said to him before turning to the guy. "AJ, it's been real. See you around."

AJ turned toward Dean as MJ stumbled forward, Dean grabbing her arm to steady her.

"Boyfriend?" He asked Dean, incredulously.

"Brother." Dean answered, placing a hand on MJ's back as she wobbled again. "And by the way," He said turning back to the guy. "She's fifteen. So, no, she won't be seeing you around." He gave the guy a death glare before guiding MJ back to their booth.

"How much did you have?" Dean asked.

"Three...I think." She said, looking down at her feet.

"Inside of twenty minutes, that's really great MJ." Dean said disgusted, as they reached Sam.

"Where were you guys? Your food's cold." He asked.

MJ groped at the table, trying to maneuver into the booth.

"What the hell happened to her?" Sam asked, watching MJ as she giggled to herself.

"She's drunk, Sammy. What, did you think she was in the bathroom all this time?"

"I figured she was with you." Sam defended.

Dean just shook his head. He turned to MJ. "Eat your dinner. You need something in your stomach to soak up the alcohol."

"How the hell did you get served?" Sam asked as MJ shoved french fries into her mouth.

"Some doucher was feeding her shots." Dean answered.

"His name was AJ," MJ said, her mouth full. "And he was not a doucher. He's a kickboxer."

Sam tried to hide his amusement by going back to his salad.

"Yeah, I'll give him kickboxing." Dean said, digging into his burger.

"Whatever, Dean." MJ said, She reached for her water, knocking it over, sending it spilling all over the table. Sam hurriedly tried to mop it up as it dripped over the edge, onto Dean's lap.

Dean jumped up. "Damn it!" He yelled, wiping at his pants with a napkin.

"I'm sorry." MJ said getting to her feet with difficulty. "I'm sorry I ruin everything." She walked as quickly as she could past the bar and out the front door.

Dean watched her go before turning to Sam. "Jeez, I thought she was moody when she was sober." He said before following her out. He scanned the parking lot and spotted her making her way toward the road, in the opposite direction of the Impala. MJ was picking her way along the stone parking lot, when she suddenly pitched forward, falling face first on the ground.

"MJ!" Dean yelled making his way quickly toward her. When he reached her, she was sitting on the ground, her legs pulled up to her chest, crying. Dean noticed fresh scrapes across both knees. He crouched down in front of her. "You okay?" He asked.

She struggled to her feet, pushing Dean away when he tried to help her up. She turned and continued on her way.

"MJ, come on. Let's go back to the car, get a motel, get you in bed."

MJ turned back suddenly, nearly smashing into Dean who had been following behind her.

"Why did you tell Scotty about my mother?" She asked, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "How could you?"

Dean looked at her, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"You told him about my mother, how she left. You told him about Dad not coming for me." She yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. "How could you?" She repeated.

Dean cleared his throat, feeling awkward. "MJ, it was just talk. We had a few beers, he asked how you ended up with us. If I had known who that son of a bitch was. What he would do-"

"Do you know what it was like for me when he put his creepy hands on me, and told me he knew how I was feeling?" She asked.

Dean ran his hand over his face. "MJ, I am sorry for telling him about your mother. I didn't mean anything by it. But if you had come to me, told me what was going on with him-"

"I can picture it. Commiserating with him over a beer. Telling him all about how you got saddled with a bratty teenager. How I'm cramping your style."

Dean was taken aback. He didn't answer right away, searching her face, hoping she didn't really believe what she was saying.

"Is that what you think?" He finally asked.

"That's what I know, Dean." She answered, wiping away the tears. "You and Sam had a good thing going. Hunting. Drinking. Women." He raised his eyebrows and she continued. "Now that's all shot to shit because of me."

Dean just looked at her, his expression turning from dubious to outraged. "That's why you didn't come to me about McWhorter? You thought I would be annoyed. That I'd think you were a nuisance."

MJ stared at the ground, avoiding Dean's angry stare.

"Look at me." Dean ordered. When she didn't meet Dean's eye, he took hold of her chin, jerking it up. "Look at me!" MJ met his eye reluctantly, her cheeks burning red.

"I may not have planned on having you along for the ride and I definitely wouldn't have chosen this life for you. But now that you're with us, I wouldn't have it any other way. You're not going anywhere as long as I have a say in it." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm not going anywhere. You can trust me."