A/N: Hello, hello! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I think it's my favorite so far:) Thanks!
MJ heard a loud bang, followed by plaster breaking close to her head. She opened her eyes, looking slowly to the left and taking in the hole in the wall where Dean's fist had gone through it. She turned her head back, once again catching Dean's eye. His expression was still murderous, his breathing fast, but he finally released her arm and turned, walking quickly toward the exit, shaking his head in outrage.
MJ turned toward Sam, whose eyes were wide with shock as he looked back at her. "We're leaving." He said shortly, holding out his arm, telling her to lead the way. He left no room for argument.
MJ spared Patrick one final apologetic look before heading out the door.
Sam looked back at Patrick, holding his hand out for MJ's cell phone.
Patrick handed it over; looking up at Sam's pissed off expression.
"I didn't know…" Patrick said weakly, as Sam turned to walk away.
"I don't care." Sam snapped, not bothering to turn back as he made his way out the front door. He would've liked to stay and interrogate this joker. How could he not tell she was underage? Never mind that she had been passing for early twenties for the last several months, in Sam's mind, this was no excuse for Patrick taking advantage of his sister. But Sam didn't have time for that right now. Dean was angrier than he'd ever seen him and he didn't know what to expect from him. He needed to be there to mediate. He heaved a sigh as he approached the Impala, both siblings already seated inside, staring straight ahead, not even acknowledging the other's existence.
Yeah, he thought, this is gonna be fun.
No one said a single word as they drove back to the motel. Dean cut the engine and got out, leading the way to their room radiating hostility, his gait fast and determined. Sam and MJ followed him into the room, standing in the doorway, watching Dean as he flew around the room, tossing things here and there. He pulled out the laptop, opening it and placing the web cam on it. Then he turned, gathering up the duffle bags and finishing packing them hastily.
"Your session got moved up." Dean called out without looking at her as he zipped the last duffle closed. "We'll be in the car." He gathered up all the bags and waled toward them, still not making eye contact with either sibling.
MJ bit her lip, her heart racing. She had forgotten all about the God damn therapy session. This was truly the very last thing she needed right now.
"Put some make up on those bruises." Dean said, shouldering past her, averting his eyes.
MJ chanced a look up at Sam, silently pleading with him not to make her do this right now. Sam looked back at her, sympathy in his eyes, but told her with a quick shake of his head that he couldn't intervene on her behalf. Not this time.
Dean seemed to sense, rather than see this exchange. "Sam, now." He spat, not turning around as he headed out the door.
Sam ground his teeth together when he saw a single tear run down MJ's cheek as he handed her her cell phone. "We'll be right outside." He told her, following Dean out the door.
MJ let a sob escape her throat as she stood there, alone, unable to move. After a minute or so of crying, she took a deep breath and set about composing herself, pushing all of the pain and fear down inside as best she could.
Ten minutes later, MJ was seated in front of the laptop, the webcam on.
"Hello, Mary Jane," Tricia began, smiling widely. "How have the last few days been?"
MJ thought about all that had gone on in the last 72 hours. Hell, in the past 12 hours. She smiled, hoping it didn't look forced. "Fine." She lied.
Tricia nodded her head. "Anything you'd like to say before we get started?"
MJ shook her head silently. She expected Tricia to pry, but instead the woman gave a small smile.
"Okay." She said, glancing down at her notebook. "Where did we leave off last time?" She looked up. "I think we were talking about traveling with your brothers and how you were doing with that."
MJ looked at the woman, confused. As she recalled, they hadn't talked at all about her current situation, moving from place to place. MJ decided to let it go, though. Therapists were weird like that. Maybe she had jotted it down in her notes as a reminder to bring it up during their next session or maybe this was one of those reverse psychology things they used to get their patients to talk about things they didn't want to: pretend they had already brought it up.
Tricia looked up again, smiling again at MJ. The smile didn't reach her eyes. "So how are you doing with that? Moving around so frequently?"
MJ shrugged. "I guess I'm getting used to it. Doesn't really bother me." She wasn't really lying, either. So far she'd been quite content to pick up and leave a place before they'd even really gotten settled.
"Don't you miss having a home?" Tricia's eyebrows shot up; as if she were shocked MJ could possibly be okay with this transient lifestyle.
MJ was quick to answer. "Wherever my brothers are is home. It doesn't matter where we go." This time it was the absolute truth, and she didn't even have to stop to think about it. This realization devastated her. She really did consider them her home, but that didn't mean she could stay…
"Yes, but isn't there anywhere you consider your home? A real, physical place? Somewhere you would go right now if you and your brothers had the choice?"
Well, she had certainly never come across this technique before. Normally her therapists would latch onto her response and dissect it, asking her why she thought she felt that way, except in about twenty different ways. She's never had someone challenge her responses like this. And while Bobby's came to mind immediately, she was suspicious enough with this line of questioning not to divulge that information.
Tricia leaned forward, the smile faltering. "Oh, come one. You've gotta land somewhere. You can't run forever."
Okay, something was definitely off.
Dean drummed the steering wheel, a persistent, impatient rhythm, Sam seated beside him trying his best to tune it out as they both stared at the closed motel room door. Neither was expecting any activity from the room any time soon, but as there was nothing else to occupy them, staring down the door seemed like their best option.
Fifteen minutes in, Sam shifted in his seat. "We gotta do something different, man. This isn't working." He said eyes still on the motel room door.
"Ya think?" Dean asked sarcastically. He shook his head. "I really don't want to talk about it, Sam, okay?" There was a note of authority in his voice. Sam ignored it.
"I think we need to talk about it, Dean." He gestured toward the motel, and his sister, "We can't keep doing this."
Dean finally turned toward his brother. "I said I'm not talking about it!"
Sam just stared at Dean for a moment, saying nothing.
Dean sighed, running his hand over his face. "Look." He said, "I need to regroup. If I try to deal with this now…" He trailed off, the maniacal look in his eyes telling Sam that he wasn't currently capable of a rational conversation. "We'll head to Bobby's. It'll give us some time to sort out this giant clusterfuck we've gotten ourselves into."
Sam knew that was all Dean was going to say on the subject, so he let it drop. He really couldn't expect much more from his brother right now. "Okay." Was Sam's only response as they settled back in to watch the closed door.
After about twenty minutes of this, Dean's cell chirped, breaking the silence that had settled over them again.
Dean pulled it out, checking the display. Chicago area code. He groaned, flipping the phone open.
"Hello?" He answered, trying to sound like he wasn't on the verge of murdering someone.
"Dean."
That one word put Dean immediately on high alert. It sounded broken, frightened and pained all at once. Dean sat up straighter in his seat.
"Jenna, what's wrong?" He asked urgently, his eyes still glued to the motel door.
"I don't know- something's not right." She managed. Dean heard tears in her voice.
Dean's heart was hammering in his chest. "Jenna, you gotta tell me what happened." He insisted, trying to keep his voice calm. He could feel Sam's eyes boring into him, alarmed at Dean's tone.
She whimpered. "He tried to make me do things." She said, barely a whisper. "He got inside my head. Tried to make me call you and tell you to come back here. He wanted MJ."
Dean's blood ran cold. "Who, Jenna? Who did this?"
"I don't know!" She cried, clearly at her wits end, unable to make sense out of what was happening to her. "He was…trying to control me. I could hear his thoughts. What he wanted to do to her." She took a shaky breath. "I wouldn't let him do it. I fought it and then he…was gone. I could feel him leave." She said all of this as if she was skeptical it even happened, despite experiencing it for herself.
Dean closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. So there was a demon after MJ. Wendy had been right. And the bastard had possessed Jenna to try to get to her. "Are you okay?" Dean asked, truly concerned. He hated the thought of Jenna getting caught up in this.
"Fuck, no, I'm not okay. Probably never will be." She said her voice shaky. "But right now I'm more worried about MJ. When it…left," She struggled with her wording, never having needed to explain something quite like this before. "MJ's therapist was here. Tricia. I passed out as soon as he…it was gone. This was last evening, Dean. I just came to. My cell phone is missing and-"
"So you didn't send me that text last night?" Dean cut her off, his hand already on the car door handle, the pieces coming together in his head, giving him a sick feeling in his stomach.
"No." She answered. "Dean what the hell is going on?"
Dean dropped the phone, launching himself from the car and drawing his gun at the same time.
Sam was right behind him, running toward the motel room. "Dean, what's happening?" Sam asked, afraid to hear the answer.
Dean didn't respond. He reached the door and kicked it in, not bothering to check if it was even locked. He burst into the room, gun raised, to find MJ standing, frozen in shock, in front of the computer, her chair knocked to the floor. Her eyes were glued to the screen and her face was frozen in a mask of horror. Without hesitation Dean pulled MJ behind him, standing in front of the screen, his gun raised.
The woman's eyes were pitch black and her face contorted in rage, even as she threw her head back in an evil cackle. She looked back at Dean, a horrifying smirk lingering on her lips.
"I hate to break it to you, Dean, but that gun is pretty useless in this situation."
Sam stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with Dean, blocking MJ from the camera's view.
"What do you want?" Dean spat, lowering his gun.
She shook her head, the smile vanishing. "I'm only trying to claim what's mine, Dean." She answered as if she were being more than reasonable. "So why don't you stop trying to interfere and just bring her to me, hmm? No one else has to get hurt."
"I've got a better idea," Dean answered his voice deadly. "How about I hunt you down and send your ugly ass back to hell?"
She growled deep in her throat, and when she spoke again, they could hear the demon's true voice coming through. "She is mine. She will always be mine. You cannot keep us apart forever!"
"Watch me." Dean said, reaching out and snatching the camera off the lap top. Although the demon could no longer see them, he still stared out at them, through Tricia's eyes.
"Maybe I'll pay Jenna another visit." He said with a smirk. "But first I should trade this body in for something a little bigger and more intimidating. Then maybe I can convince her to help me out." He taunted.
Dean pointed a finger at the screen. "Don't you fucking touch her again! You stay away from her!" he shouted, not caring that the demon could neither see nor hear him.
Every trace of humor vanished from the demon's face. "I will find her Dean. You can't hide forever." He said before disconnecting.
Dean stood there, seething, unable to move. Sam quickly walked around his brother, snapping the computer closed and grabbing it up.
"Dean, let's go. We gotta move." He said urgently.
Dean turned toward Sam, his anger still evident on his face. A terrible possibility suddenly occurred to him. "Can he track us with that?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe, if he's good with computers." Sam swallowed. "Or if he possesses a hacker."
Dean grabbed a still shocked MJ and pulled her out the door, Sam on their heels.
Three hours of driving with no one saying a single word. Dean had called Jenna as they were leaving Lincoln and told her to take a vacation far away from Chicago and not to go back until she heard from him. They had stopped once for gas, Dean disappearing inside the gas station for twenty minutes. Sam had used that time to grill MJ about what the demon had said to her, trying to figure out what it wanted with her. She hadn't been much help. After that, Dean returned and they fell back into a tense silence. Sam and Dean were operating on no sleep, and MJ was hovering somewhere between denial and panic as she stared, stone faced out the car window, not really seeing anything beyomd the glass.
They made it as far as Elk Point. Only an hour from their destination.
This is when Dean pulled the car onto the gravel shoulder of the quiet back road and threw it into park, before getting out, and walking several yards off the road into the empty field. There was no traffic and no houses anywhere nearby. The term middle of nowhere came to MJ's mind.
MJ slowly got out of the car, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She looked up at the mid-afternoon sky. It looked like dusk, the sun was nowhere in sight, hidden by heavy, dark clouds that promised a fantastic summer storm. The air was already thick around them and thunder rumbled in the distance. The wind played across MJ's face, as she looked out at Dean, walking determinedly further into the field as if he had an important destination in mind. Sam got out of the car, standing beside MJ.
Dean stopped suddenly, jamming his hands in his jeans' pockets. He turned his head skyward.
"Fuck!" He screamed, the angry word echoing in the open space.
MJ and Sam shared a loaded look as Dean turned back toward them, making his way quickly back to the Impala. He stopped in front of MJ. Standing mere inches from her. He crossed his arms in front of him, fixing her with an angry stare. Sam tensed, but didn't move.
"I talked to Dad when we stopped for gas." He started. "I talked to him about what he said before. About sending you away." Dean shrugged. "After everything…I'm starting to think it's not such a bad idea."
No one made a sound for several seconds.
"What do you think?" he asked her, his expression unreadable.
Sam took half a step toward them. "Dean-"
Dean held his hand up, silencing his brother. He turned his head toward Sam. "I asked her." He said simply. Sam still looked displeased with this conversation, but didn't say any more.
"Well?" Dean asked, looking back at MJ.
She was shocked, but tried not to show it. Of course, she didn't want to go. That was the last thing she wanted to do. How could Dean even suggest it? She bit her lip, realizing where this was coming from. What had happened last night had put him over the edge. It had been the last straw and he was done now. She swallowed, feeling her heart plummet into her stomach. She had gone too far this time. Well, she wasn't going to make a spectacle of herself and beg. She wouldn't make this harder on them than it already was. She took a shaky breath, staring back at her eldest brother.
She nodded ever so slightly. "Okay." She said quietly. "I'll go."
Sam couldn't stay quiet any longer. "MJ, no-"
MJ turned to him. "It's okay, Sam. It's no big deal." She said before looking down at the ground, trying hard not to let her devastation show.
Everyone was silent. The rain began to fall slowly, a few drops wetting MJ's face. She still didn't look up.
Suddenly, Dean reached out, grabbing up handfuls of her sweatshirt in his fists, pulling her toward him. Her head shot up, looking at Dean, slightly shocked. He stared at her, a death grip on her shirt. His face had gotten even redder, his jaw clenched tight, as a muscle twitched in his cheek.
"Eight months, Mary Jane!" He shouted, fighting to control his anger. "Eight months! And in that time, I haven't pushed you. I've kept my mouth shut, every time you wake up screaming, or get all weird, and I want to grab you and shake the truth out of you!" He relinquished his hold on her – much to Sam's relief – and walked away from her, pacing a few feet in front of her and Sam. He shook his head. "You won't tell me anything! Anything about what happened, what you want. After all this time, you don't trust me enough to fuckin' talk to me."
She shook her head. "That's not true, Dean." She said quietly. The rain began to pick up and thunder rumbled overhead.
"Then talk!" He strode back toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, giving her a quick shake. "Talk to me!"
"What do you want me to say?" She shouted, tears springing to her eyes.
"I want you to tell me what you want! Not what you think I want, or what Dad wants, or what you think is the easy thing to do. I want to know what you really want!" He shouted down at her, still gripping her shoulders tightly. "Why did you say you'd go? Is that what you really want?" He asked. She squirmed out from under his grasp.
"I don't know!" She said turning away, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Tell me!" He followed her as she moved toward the trunk.
"Just forget it, Dean!" She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, her back to her brother, avoiding Dean's gaze. Sam shadowed Dean's movement toward their sister. He was torn between intervening and hanging back as he took in Dean's flushed, angry face and MJ's tense posture and red eyes.
Dean didn't even acknowledge Sam's proximity. He grabbed MJ's arm and spun her around so she was facing him. "Tell me, MJ!" He screamed.
"Stop it, Dean!" She tried to pull away, but he held fast to her.
"Dean, what the hell?" Sam asked as he moved toward his siblings.
Dean put his hand up, signaling for Sam to stay out of it, while keeping his eyes on MJ. "Tell me what you want!"
"I don't know, God damn it!" She matched Dean's volume.
"Tell me!" He growled, shoving her hard against the trunk.
"I want to stay with you and Sam!" She screamed up at him, the tears now streaming down her face. "I don't ever want to leave you guys!" Her breath hitched as she sobbed, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"Dean, that's enough!" Sam gave his brother a withering look as he pushed between him and MJ. He stood in front of MJ, facing Dean. "What are you doing?"
"Move, Sam." Dean said quietly.
Sam shook his head, crossing his arms.
Dean just looked up at him, his eyes softening and the anger melting from his face as his jaw finally relaxed.
"Sammy." He said calmly.
Sam considered his brother for a few moments before shifting to the side. He stood next to MJ, still watching Dean.
MJ was sobbing, brushing the tears from her face with her sweatshirt sleeve.
Dean moved forward a step. "Hey," he said, waiting for her to look up. "For the record, I wasn't gonna let you go, even if you wanted to. But I'm glad to hear you say you want to stay." He said. "And I don't ever want to hear that you don't care or that it doesn't matter because it does, God damn it." He placed his hands back on her shoulders, determined to get his point across. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but just as determined. "You don't always have to silently obey and when you're upset you don't have to hide it. You're allowed to complain and have an opinion. You're allowed to disagree." He took a deep breath, keeping his hold on her. "I'd rather argue with you about the stupidest things, than have you stuff it all down inside until you can't take it anymore and you go do something stupid and get yourself hurt." MJ looked down, her eyes on the ground and Dean grabbed hold of her chin, refusing to let her look away. "I'm only gonna say this one time, Mary Jane, so listen up. You deserve to be taken care of." MJ saw tears swimming in her brother's eyes. Her own face was wet with a mix of tears and the rain that was now pouring down, soaking them all. Dean swallowed, taking a deep breath. "So let me take care of you."
MJ stared at Dean for what seemed like forever, trying to process all of this. She wanted it. So badly. She wanted to give in and let him worry about her and take care of her. God, it would feel so good to let someone else share the weight of the anxiety and fear and anger she was carrying around…
After what seemed like an eternity to her brothers, MJ nodded, still sniffling. Dean pulled her toward him in an uncharacteristic hug. "This is where you belong, kiddo. This is home." He pulled away and cleared his throat, looking around. "Well, maybe not this exact piece of highway, but you know what I mean." He said, the beginnings of his signature smirk taking shape on his drenched face. He turned to Sam. "What the hell are you doing standing in the pouring rain? Let's hit the road."
MJ smiled as she walked back around the car, and slid into the backseat. Sam closed her door behind her before looking over the roof of the car at his brother. "You never even talked to Dad, did you?"
Dean paused with his hand on the door handle. He winked at Sam. "You're not the only one who knows how to deal with teenagers, Brainiac. I've got some tricks up my sleeve, too."
Sam shook his head as he slid into the car. Truth was, he was relieved they'd finally had it out. It had been a long time coming, and he felt like they could finally move forward now, instead of running in circles.
Dean drove on toward Bobby's, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was still tense, worried about this piece of shit demon that was after MJ. But for the first time in a long time he felt like MJ was really going to be okay. Everything else, they'd take in stride. He drove on, breathing a little easier the rest of the way.