A/N: Hey, everyone! So, I must say I had so much fun writing the next couple chapters. Happy reading!

Chapter 22

"I thought we were 100% screwed." MJ said, holding her drink up in front of her.

Sam clinked his beer bottle with her root beer with a chuckle. "Me, too," He said before turning to his brother, "and hats off to Dean for his fine use of his stitched wound as a visual aid to further prove his story."

Dean raised his own beer with a smirk. "That's why I make the big bucks."

MJ giggled. Despite her brothers being livid over Scotty's letter, their collective mood had improved considerably since meeting with Jenna. The anxiety and tension had eased once they were certain Jenna was being honest with them and wasn't going to snatch MJ away from Dean and Sam. Dean had suggested they go out to celebrate, and to MJ's surprise, Sam had agreed. MJ had a fake ID, but to this point she had used it strictly for cases. She practically fell over when he handed it to her at the motel after dinner and told her to hurry up and change. Of course, he wasn't letting her wear a skirt to a bar, so she had reluctantly changed into jeans. He also wasn't letting her drink, the ID was strictly so she could get in, but she intended to make the most of staying sober by hustling some drunken fools out of their hard earned money. This place had pool tables and dart boards, and she had the hundred bucks she had won the last time tucked in her pocket. Oh, where to begin?

As MJ scanned the bar for potential suckers, a petite blonde approached their table.

"Sam?" She asked with a smile.

"Oh my God, Meg?" He said standing, leaving his siblings to give each other questioning looks behind his back. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm sort of living here now. For a while."

"What happened to California?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's attempts to get his attention with a fake cough.

The girl shrugged. "Not all it was cracked up to be." She nodded toward him. "What about you? How'd you end up here?"

"Uh, well, we're visiting family." He lied.

"We?" Meg looked past Sam for the first time, fixing first Dean then MJ with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Oh, sorry." Sam said, "This is my brother Dean and sister MJ."

"Dean, huh?" She asked, looking unimpressed. "So you pulled him back in huh?" She asked, setting her beer down on the table with a thunk. 'Why can't you just let your brother do what he wants to do?"

Everyone just stared at her for a moment. Sam recovered first.

"No, Meg, it's okay, really."

"No it's not, Sam. You're a person, not a piece of luggage."

Dean cleared his throat. "Awkward." He said, before fixing Sam with a questioning look.

Meg crossed her arms, her eyes on Dean, ignoring Sam's attempts to steer her away from his siblings. "He's a person, ya know. An adult who has a right to make his own decisions."

MJ moved out from behind Sam and stood in front of Meg. She slowly looked the shorter girl up and down, her expression a mix of disgust and apparent amusement at what she saw. "What the hell makes you an expert on my brothers? You don't know the first thing about either of them. So why don't you take your push up bra and denim jacket and put them to work on someone who's willing to fall for the innocent, good girl act?" MJ smiled down at Meg, feeling tall for the first time since joining her brothers.

Meg smiled back up at her. "Why don't you run along and let the grownups talk, sweetie?"

MJ took a step forward, but Dean interrupted before she could say anything.

"Pretty sure I've heard enough." Dean said grabbing hold of MJ. "Meg, it was truly a pleasure. Sam, we'll catch up with you later." He said before turning and walking away, MJ in tow.

"Who the hell was she?" MJ asked, craning her neck to get one last glimpse of the chick before Dean pulled her to a pool table where Sam and the girl were no longer visible.

"Some broad Sammy met when he left to head back to California." Dean cleared his throat as he gathered up the balls, placing them on the table. "You know, when we had that fight."

"Right, I got it." MJ said quickly, not needing any further clarification. She remembered the night well. "So who does that skank bitch think she is acting like she knows you?" MJ asked heatedly grabbing a pool cue.

"I got a better question," Dean said, racking up the balls. "What did Sammy tell her that made her call me out?"

MJ hadn't thought that far. She was stuck on the girl's rude behavior toward her brother. Now that she considered it, the only reason this Meg person would have a bone to pick with Dean was if Sammy had complained to her about his brother.

"Hmph." She said as she set up to break. MJ's preoccupation with Meg cost her three games in a row to Dean. She thought back to the argument they'd had the night Sammy had left. It wasn't any worse than some of the other fights she'd witnessed. Okay, so Sam had never taken off before, but she had known he wouldn't stay away for long. And he hadn't, coming back a couple days later, just in time to save them from the freaky pagan god in the orchard. MJ hadn't dwelled on it. She knew that her brothers would get over their crap. She only ever got really upset when they fought physically. There was just something about trading blows that seemed to equate a line being crossed. But she wasn't shocked when her brothers resorted to physical violence once in a while. It seemed…normal, at least for them. But to air their business to a complete stranger? That didn't seem like Sammy at all.

MJ was a little surprised at just how irritated she was getting over this Meg situation. After the third game, Dean went to get them more drinks, and apparently got lost on the way back. MJ spotted him chatting up a lanky brunette in the corner.

"Well, then," She said to herself, seeing he wouldn't be tearing himself away from her anytime soon, "Time to make some money." She scanned the other tables for someone to swindle. Her eyes stopped on a man who looked to be in his forties, leaning over the table in the corner, lining up a shot. She could tell by his posture he thought he knew what he was doing, but really he had no clue. She took in his pager and cell phone, both clipped to his straight leg, light wash jeans waistband and shook her head. This is going to be so easy, it really isn't even fair, she thought as she watched him take a swig of his Genny Cream Ale.

MJ sauntered over, twirling a finger in her hair, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. The guy looked up after taking a terrible shot and sinking one of his opponent's balls, his look of irritation quickly replaced with a grin as he took in her appearance.

"Can I play, too?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," the guy said yanking the cue from his friend's hand and placing it in hers. "I'm Buddy."

"Christy." She said, smile still firmly in place. "So," she said, pulling out a wad of bills, "I thought it'd be super fun to play for money."

Buddy looked skeptical. He glanced at his friend, who nodded his approval. Buddy turned back to her and shrugged. "If you want, but not too much. I wouldn't feel right about cheating you out of your hard earned cash."

"Yay!" She cheered, placing a twenty down on the edge of the table.

She was up $200 when Buddy and his friend finally called it quits, grumbling as they walked away with their tails between their legs. Not bad for an hour's work, she thought as she racked up the balls. She had noticed Dean keeping one eye on her while he chatted up the brunette. She was surprised he let it go on for as long as it did. He must really be into the girl, she thought. She hadn't noticed the guy in the baseball cap, sitting in the corner alone, nursing a whiskey. He barely took his eyes off of her all the while she was playing. Had MJ not been so focused on playing dumb, she most certainly would have registered the excessive attention he was paying her.

After Buddy and his pal scurried away, MJ got busy taking some "practice" shots, keeping her aim crappy in hopes of attracting a new victim. The man in the baseball cap now approached her from behind as she lined up a terrible shot and leaned a little further than necessary over the table. She only knew he was there when she felt his weight pressed up against her back.

"Try it like this," he said, in her ear, making her jump as he covered her hand with his, correcting her aim. He squeezed her wrist harder than necessary.

MJ tried to shrug him off. "I got it, thanks." She said, pulling her hand out from under his. He thwarted her efforts to wiggle free of his hold by pressing himself even closer to her body. MJ looked to where Dean had been sitting, hoping to get his attention. Her heart sank when she didn't see him anywhere.

"Where's your mama?" the man whispered in her ear, his goatee scratching along her jawbone. "Where's she hiding out?"

"I don't know." MJ whispered, a different kind of terror filling her. This wasn't just some creep. This was someone who knew Wendy. She could smell whiskey on his breath as she struggled to turn her face away from his. "I swear I haven't seen her in months."

"That bitch owes me money. I intend to collect one way or another. You be sure to tell her that Biz needs to see her." MJ stood stock still as he buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply. "If you want you can pay off Mommy's debt for her. I could make six bills a night off your sweet ass, easy."

MJ looked around, desperate now to get away from his man. She tried frantically to catch the eye of another patron, to convey with a look of panic that she needed help. She knew to anyone around her, it appeared that the man was simply helping her line up a shot.

After what seemed an eternity, the man backed away a few inches, enough for MJ to scramble away from him and around to the other side of the table. She looked at his face, immediately recognizing him as one of her mother's dealers.

"I'll take that as a no. I'm here most nights if you change your mind." He said, smoothing his fingers over his goatee. "You'll see that she gets the message?" He asked, the smile on his lips not reaching his eyes as he returned to his seat in the corner.

MJ stumbled toward the bar, relief sweeping through her when she spotted Dean ordering drinks, his back to her. She approached him as he turned around a beer in one hand and a soda in the other.

"Hey, I was just gonna come break up your game if you didn't call it quits soon." He handed her the soda with a smirk. "You were a little obvious don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah, you're probably right." She glanced to her right, seeing that Biz was still sitting there, talking to a waitress, one eye still on MJ. "Hey, do you mind if we go? I have a headache."

Dean looked her over, his expression suspicious. "Are you okay? You're all flushed."

MJ nodded. "Yeah, it's just kind of warm in here, and ya know, just a headache. That's all." She almost subconsciously turned to check again that Biz hadn't moved. He was still there, still staring at her.

This time, Dean followed her gaze and saw the guy staring at her. He jerked a thumb in Biz's direction. "You know that guy?" he asked.

MJ shook her head. "No." She said, swallowing hard. The bartender leaned toward them, handing a glass to MJ.

"This is from the guy in the back." She said, canting her head toward Biz. "He says thanks for your help." She said with the air of someone who was delivering a compliment.

MJ took the frosty glass, unable to utter a single word in response.

Dean took in the telltale celery stalk protruding from the tomato juice based drink. MJ saw that his jaw was clenched tightly as he looked back at Biz before turning to her. "A Bloody Mary?" he asked, "Is that supposed to be a joke? And what does he mean, 'thanks for your help'? What help?" When MJ didn't respond to any of these questions, Dean grabbed the drink from her hand and slammed it down on the bar before striding over to Biz. Dean stood in front of the man, arms crossed over his chest. MJ snapped out of her shocked silence and followed behind him.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, as MJ stood next to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Dean, please, let's go." She begged, barely more than a whisper. Dean didn't budge, his gaze fixed on Biz.

Biz sipped his drink, seemingly unfazed by Dean's attempts at intimidation.

"I asked you a question." Dean snarled, still ignoring MJ's attempts to pull him away.

Biz shrugged. "I'm just an old family friend. I've known Mary here since she was a little girl." Biz said, turning his gaze back to MJ and looking her up and down. "She grew up nice." He said with a smirk. "Real firm."

Dean launched himself forward and at the same time, Biz stood quickly, pressing a switchblade to Dean's stomach. Dean froze quickly, knowing full well that the guy had intentionally goaded him to get him to go after him.

MJ took a step toward them. "MJ, stay back." Dean said evenly, never taking his eyes off Biz. MJ froze, watching the two men carefully.

"Wendy owes me five hundred dollars." He said calmly. "Now I doubt she gives a shit about you," He said, leaning in close to Dean, "but I will take what she owes me out of your precious little girl over here." He nodded toward MJ. "I hope I'm being clear." He said pressing the blade closer to Dean's skin.

MJ took another deliberate step toward them.

Dean groaned. "MJ get out of here!" he hissed.

MJ held up a wad of cash in front of Biz's face. "Here's three hundred. Put that toward her debt. We'll get you the rest just let him go, please." MJ begged. Biz didn't back away, eyes back on Dean. MJ continued, pleading with the man. "I'll pass on the message, you'll get your money. Please let him go."

After what seemed an eternity, Biz backed away from Dean and snatched the cash out of MJ's outstretched hand. MJ had a feeling he gave in not because of her compelling argument, but because quite a few people were watching them warily. He quickly tucked the money into his pocket and gave them a curt nod. "Pleasure seeing you again." He said before turning and walking out the door.

Dean watched him go before turning his wrath on MJ. "Who the hell was that guy?" He demanded. When MJ didn't respond, he took a deep breath. "If you don't start talking I swear to God I'm going after him." He threatened.

MJ put her hands up. "Okay, okay. But can we get out of here, please? I promise I'll tell you everything in the car."

Dean dragged MJ with him to collect Sammy, who made a hurried apology to Meg, who gave Dean a dirty look as Sam followed him out. Dean hauled his sister outside, only relinquishing his hold on her when they'd reached the Impala.

"Dean, what is the hurry?" Sam asked as Dean screeched out of the parking lot onto the road.

"Okay, explain." Dean demanded of MJ, ignoring his brother.

MJ let out a long sigh. "His name is Biz. He's one of Wendy's dealers." MJ shrugged. "I guess he's been looking for her because she owes him money. He recognized me and thought he could get to Wendy through me."

"What? What happened?" Sam asked, confused.

Dean continued to ignore him, addressing MJ again. "He pulled a knife on me over five hundred bucks?" he said in disbelief.

MJ shook her head. "It's not just five hundred bucks. He thinks she's buying from someone else, maybe selling for someone else too. He figures by threatening to hurt me, he can scare her into coming back to him."

No one spoke for a moment. Dean shook his head. "I should've followed him and kicked the shit out of him." He finally growled.

"It only would've made it worse, Dean." MJ said quietly. "He's got connections. Friends. We would've been hunted if you had retaliated."

"Nice company your mother keeps!" Dean shouted without thinking.

MJ made no response. Sam just gave his brother a warning glance.

"Forget it," Dean said more quietly. "Let's just get the hell out of Dodge."

"Uh, actually, Dean, I think we need to stick around for a while." Sam said.

Dean looked over at his brother. "What? Why?"

Sam shook his head. "There's no way it was just coincidence that we ran into Meg tonight. Something's up. We need to stick around so I can look into her."

MJ felt the adrenaline ebbing away, leaving a sick feeling in her stomach. She tried to breathe through it, willing the nausea away. "Dean," She said between breaths.

Dean ignored her, turning to Sam. "You think something's up with her? Like our kind of thing?" Dean asked.

"Dean-" MJ tried again, but she couldn't seem to make her voice loud enough to be heard over the roar of the Impala's engine.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, but what are the chances we run into her in a random bar in Chicago?"

"Dean, pull over!" MJ shouted before clamping a hand over her mouth.

Dean turned and took in the sickly green tint of her face. "Shit." He said, braking and quickly pulling onto the shoulder.

MJ bolted from the car, barely making it a foot before falling to her knees and retching violently.

Sam quickly got out of the car and knelt beside her, Dean not far behind him. MJ let out a strangled sob, trying to catch her breath between heaves.

"Easy, easy, Kid." Dean said rubbing soothing circles on her back as Sam pulled her hair back, away from her face.

After several minutes, MJ straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You okay?" Dean asked, taking in her frightened expression.

"Dean," she rasped, her eyes wide with panic, "what if she's dead?"

Dean placed a hand on the back of her neck, searching her face. It took him a moment to figure out who she was talking about.

"Look at me." He said, turning her head to face him. "Your mother's alive. Okay? She's alive."

MJ continued sobbing uncontrollably, kneeling on the hard ground. Dean pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and gently stroking her hair.

"Shh, take it easy, Kid. It's gonna be okay, I promise." Dean soothed, his comforting words in sharp contrast to his murderous expression, as he looked up at Sam, standing over them. Sam knew why Dean looked so angry, because he felt it, too. Even when she was nowhere to be found, Wendy was still managing to cause MJ pain.