A/N: I really struggled with this chapter, but I think I'm okay with it. I was sorta stuck for a while, but I think I've got it figured out:) I'm super excited about the next few chapters! As aways, enjoy!

"Well we're all pulling for him, Mr. Cole. Thanks for the update." Sam said, flipping his phone closed.

Sam turned to Dean, who had just come back inside from loading the car. They had stopped at a motel around four in the morning to grab a few hours' sleep. MJ was the last one up, despite having slept in the car the night before. She was showering while Sam and Dean got ready to go.

"Looks like Spencer's going to make it." Sam told his brother. "No permanent damage."

"That's good news." Dean commented, grabbing his coffee off of the table.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at his brother who was facing away from him, washing his face in the kitchenette sink. He opened his mouth to say something and stopped, looking down at his feet and taking a deep breath.

"Hey, Sam" Dean said, splashing water on his face. "Spit it out before I beat it out of you."

"I'm not trying to be a nag here Dean, but don't you think you should talk to MJ about this meeting with Jenna. Tell her what Jenna told you last night?"

Dean turned, toweling his face dry. "Why?" Dean asked his eyes on his brother.

"Um," Sam started an incredulous look on his face, "I don't know. Maybe so she isn't freaking out about it."

Dean shook his head. "No way. I don't want her to get her hopes up. Jenna might still change her mind. We're not in the clear, here."

"Last night, you were genuinely relieved. Now you're skeptical about it? What gives?"

Dean shrugged as he walked over, sitting down on the bed opposite Sam. "I don't know, Sammy. When I was talking to her I really felt okay about things. But, how many times in our lives could we rely on strangers? Strangers who work for the government, no less." Dean shook his head. "There's no guarantees. I can't afford to trust her."

"You seemed pretty willing to put your faith in her last night." Sam said, trying and failing to hide his grin.

"Hey, Sam."

Sam looked up, managing a straight face.

"Shut it before I put my boot up your ass."

Sam put his hands up in surrender as MJ emerged from the bathroom, the faded Royals hat once again firmly in place. Dean noticed she looked a lot better than she did last night. Less pale and her eyes weren't so puffy.

"You guys wanna grab breakfast before we get on the road?" Dean asked.

"Um, you mean lunch?" MJ asked, checking her watch. "It's 11:45."

"I think there's a Cheesecake Factory down the road." Sam said.

Dean was about to protest. That would take much longer than a quick burger at a diner. Then he saw how MJ's eyes lit up. He had forgotten that was her favorite restaurant. When she was a kid, and they went to visit, Dad always brought them all to Cheesecake Factory as a special treat.

"Whatever, as long as its food. I'm starving." Dean complained heading to the door, keys in hand. Sam smiled at MJ as they followed Dean out of the motel room. Dean was always trying to play it tough, but to his siblings he was transparent. He'd do anything to make them happy.

Even as MJ scanned the menu her stomach churned. She knew she should be hungry, and had been looking forward to coming here, but now that they were in the restaurant, seated in a booth, the thought of food made her nauseous. She was worried about going to Chicago. Worried that they wouldn't let her leave again with her brothers. She could tell that Dean was worried, too, which intensified her own anxiety. Dean was the king of hiding his emotions. The master of the poker face. The fact that she could tell he was nervous did not bode well with her. Although, the longer she was with him, the easier she found him to read. Maybe he wasn't that freaked out, she was just more sensitive to it. Whatever the case, she wished they could just go to Chicago right this minute and get it over with. The suspense was killing her.

"You okay?" Sam asked, eyeing his sister.

"Yeah, just tired I guess." She fibbed, her attention on her menu.

Dean knew she was lying. She was so easy to read. She was clearly anxious about something. What that something was, Dean thought, was a different story. He thought of the laundry list of shit she had to deal with over the past few weeks. He would've been shocked if she wasn't upset.

"You know, Spencer's gonna be fine. Sam talked to his dad this morning."

"You did?" MJ asked, looking to Sam.

Sam nodded. "No permanent damage."

"Good." MJ said, her eyes dropping back to her menu.

Dean sighed, frustrated with MJ's lack of a response. He tried again. "That crap with Carrie…that wasn't your fault, Kid. You know that right? I mean, it sucked royally, but you weren't to blame for what happened to her."

"I know Dean." She said robotically, not even looking up.

"Hey." Dean said sternly. He waited until she looked up at him before he continued. "What's got you so worried?" He asked, his face all business, but his green eyes giving away his concern for his sister.

MJ took a deep breath. "The same thing that's got you all worked up, Dean." She answered, staring him down. She half expected him to say he didn't know what she was talking about, that he wasn't worried about anything.

And that was Dean's instinct, to lie and tell her he wasn't worried at all. To simply tell her not to worry about it. But looking at her face now, he knew he had to be honest with her and find a way to reassure her that everything would be okay. It was one thing for him to obsess over the outcome of this meeting, but he could spare her that grief.

"You listen carefully." Dean began, his voice quiet, but steady. "I am worried about this meeting, okay? I'm worried that I've screwed up one too many times and they're going to change their minds about you staying with us." MJ looked at him, her expression unreadable, drinking in every word he said. She'd been waiting for this, Dean realized. "But Jenna called late last night and promised me that was not what this meeting was about."

MJ's expression brightened ever so slightly. "Really? She said that?"

Dean nodded. "I don't know if she's telling the truth or just trying to give me a false sense of security or what, but I know one thing for sure." He leaned forward across the table, eyes locked with MJ's. "They're not taking you. They can try, but it's not gonna happen. No way. Am I worried they'll try? Yes. Am I worried they'll succeed?" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Not a chance." He growled.

MJ felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. The twisting in her stomach lessened and, though she hadn't even registered the tightness in her chest before, she now felt her breathing become easier as that too eased.

"Hey there, folks, I'm Matt and I'll be taking care of you. Have you been here before?"

MJ was suddenly ravenous. She looked up at the waiter and smiled. "We're ready to order now." She announced. "I'll have the orange chicken and could we get some of that amazing brown bread, too?"

Matt didn't even bat an eye as he wrote down their orders. Dean did not miss the wink he tossed at MJ when he promised he'd bring the bread right over.

"So? Are we clear?" Dean asked her.

She looked up at him. "Crystal." She said a small smile on her face. It was impossible to question Dean's sincerity and MJ couldn't help but feel reassured by his promise.

The waiter returned with their drinks and bread. He jerked his head toward MJ as he set the items down in front of them. "Royals fan, huh? I like that hat, its old school. "He said with a grin. "Are you from Kansas City?"

"Actually," Dean answered for her, even though it was plain the question was only for MJ, "She borrowed the hat from me. So I guess I'm the one you should be hitting on. Although something tells me I'm not your type. But I am a more appropriate age for you." Dean said no trace of a smile on his face.

"Dean." MJ admonished quietly.

"Whoa, I was just making conversation. I'm sorry if I offended you." Matt said, turning beet red as he quickly escaped from their table.

"Nice Dean. Hope you like spit on your burger." MJ said, crossing her arms.

"What?"

"You know what."

"He was hitting on you." Dean defended. "Sammy, back me up, here."

MJ and Dean both looked to Sam, waiting for his response.

"He might've just been being friendly." Sam said, careful not to look at Dean. He reached out, picking up the bread knife and cutting a slice. "Bread?" he asked offering the loaf to Dean.

Dean gave his brother a dirty look as he snatched the bread out of Sam's hand.

They stayed in Gary, Indiana for the week end, just laying low until Monday morning. Dean didn't want to stay in the city longer than necessary, and MJ was in wholehearted agreement. She didn't exactly have fond memories of Chicago.

On Sunday morning, Sam took her to a hair salon at the mall. She didn't have high hopes that they'd be able to make her look presentable, but she hoped to at least make the bald patches less noticeable. She was pleasantly surprised with the results. It was by no means perfect, but the short cut definitely made the damage less obvious. After paying for the hair cut, Sam led MJ back toward the car.

"Hey, Sam?" MJ asked as they strolled along the corridors on their way to the car.

"Yeah?"

"How was she able to do it? Carrie?"

Sam didn't answer right away. He looked over at MJ, then turned straight ahead before answering.

"I think she learned some things growing up. And I think that she had a lot of anger about her life. That kind of rage can make someone really powerful if they know the basics, which she definitely did."

"Sabrina never had anything to do with it. But Carrie knew I suspected her and she used that to lure me to the school." She shook her head. "I should've known. Maybe I could've stopped her before-"

Sam stopped, grabbing MJ by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Listen. There is nothing you could have done. None of this was your fault." MJ looked determinedly at her feet. Sam continued. "You couldn't have saved her MJ."

MJ looked up at him, tears welled in her eyes. "How do you know?"

"Because she was sick, MJ. Obsessed. And when people are that determined to do something, there's nothing anyone can do to stop them."

MJ just nodded, not really convinced.

They lolled around the rest of the day and left for Chicago Monday morning at 7 AM. Despite Dean's continued reassurances that all would be okay, MJ's stomach was in knots as they drove into the city. When Dean didn't even complain about parking the Impala in a shady open lot, manned by a greasy, toothless guy who was drooling over the Impala, MJ knew he was distracted.

The lobby of the government building was all too familiar to MJ. She had spent time here with Wendy, applying for housing assistance, or to get their heat bill paid in the dead of winter. As she sat beside her brothers in the waiting room, she noted that it smelled exactly as it always had: stagnant and depressing.

"Mary Jane?" Jenna called from the doorway. The siblings stood in unison and made their way toward the caseworker. Jenna held up her hand. "Just MJ for now. I'll call you both in shortly."

MJ hesitated, feeling Dean stiffen beside her. The last time they had been here to check in, Jenna had talked to MJ alone, so it wasn't an unusual request, but all of the anxiety of the last few days made her leery of being separated from Sam and Dean. Apparently Dean felt the same way.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Dean said quietly, eyes on Jenna.

"Dean, I just want to chat with MJ, make sure things are going okay, then you guys can join us." She placed a hand on his arm. "I need you to trust me, Dean." She waited for a response, but Dean just looked back at her, unconvinced. "Fifteen minutes, tops."

Dean reluctantly nodded and sat back down with Sam to endure the most excruciating fifteen minutes of his life.

MJ sat rigid in her chair, Jenna taking a seat across the table from her. MJ watched the young woman open her notebook, smiling warmly over at MJ. She seemed completely at ease, despite MJ's obvious discomfort.

"I love your haircut. When did you do it?"

"Oh," MJ's hand went automatically to the carefully hidden bald patch. "Thanks. Just yesterday, actually."

"It suits you." She said with a smile. "So, tell me what's been going on since we last talked?"

Silence. MJ didn't know where to start, for one because so much had gone on, and two, she didn't know how much to fabricate. MJ sat there, looking down at her hands, marveling at how comfortable Jenna seemed to be with the silence.

MJ looked up finally. "We visited my Uncle Bobby for a couple weeks. That was nice."

"Uncle?" Jenna asked.

MJ shook her head. "That's just what we call him. We're not really related."

"I see." Jenna scribbled something down. "Have you had any contact with your father?"

MJ's head snapped up. "Have you?" She shot back, annoyed.

"No. But I think he would call you before he calls me." Jenna said calmly.

"No, he hasn't called." MJ said.

"That must be difficult, wondering where he is, why he isn't reaching out to you."

"Am I in therapy right now?" MJ snapped.

Jenna held her hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm not the enemy, MJ. I'm just trying to catch up with you. I only have 11 minutes before Dean comes barreling through that door and I'd like to make the most of it."

MJ considered the woman carefully. No matter how closely she looked, she couldn't find anything but concern and genuine interest in Jenna's face. She sighed. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." Jenna jotted some more notes before looking back up. "So, I'll cut to the chase," she said, making MJ look up. "Tell me about Scotty McWhorter." Jenna was no longer smiling.

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