Okay, here's the final chapter for You'll Accomp'ny Me. I'm planning to begin the second part of the story very soon. hope you all enjoyed reading this. Thanks:)

Chapter 42

"Mary Jane."

MJ stirred, his warm breath tickling her jaw line as he breathed her name, his face so close to hers that his lips brushed her ear.

"Come on, baby. Time to wake up."

MJ was close to fully conscious, but squeezed her eyes closed as tight as possible. She knew that voice. This was all too familiar. His voice. His scent. The excitement radiating off of him. Except this definitely wasn't a dream. This was real. And MJ had never been so frightened in all of her life.

He caressed her head lovingly, like a father gently cupping the head of his newborn baby. "Mary Jane. You're safe. Open your eyes."

He retreated and MJ could sense that there was a distance between them now. He was still there, she could tell. But he had moved away. This unnerved her and she opened her eyes, just a little, squinting at the room around her.

Her first thought was that perhaps this actually was a dream, because she was sure a room this immaculate and comfortable could not exist in real life. Everything was pristine and white. The carpet. The walls. The curtains billowing in the soft breeze floating in from the balcony. The sun was shining into the room, warming her, and she could hear…waves? New panic rose inside her at realizing she had no clue where she was. She squeezed her eyes shut again, fighting back the tears, taking a deep breath, before fully opening her eyes and looking around her once again. He was there, standing across the room, his stance relaxed, and his arms at his sides. He was trying to appear politely benign, but it did not reach his eyes. They gave away his excitement. The gleam of anticipation in them as he stared at her was akin to ecstasy, and MJ knew a whole new level of fear and discomfort. It didn't matter that he had not so much as touched her or that she knew he had no intention of hurting her like Carl, or any of those other men had. And even though she knew his intentions were in no way sexual, that he had no immediate plans to cause her any physical pain, looking up at him now, standing across the room, silhouetted by the sun streaming in the window behind him, MJ saw him for what he was: a predator. And not just any predator. The worst kind.

MJ took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She tried to look relaxed; lying there on her side, looking up at him with what she hoped was a politely curious expression.

"Why do you want me?" She asked. Hoping it sounded like a simple question, void of accusation.

He smiled kindly down at her, taking a slow, cautious step forward. He reached out slowly, as if trying not to frighten her, and brushed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Maybe I should show you."

With one swift swing of Sam's arm, Dean's water pitcher went flying off the table and across the room. Sam was so red in the face, that Dean was worried he might have a stroke.

"Sammy-" Dean hissed as he sat up in bed, cursing the damn IV that tugged at his arm with the movement. "Just calm down, okay?"

"He's going after the demon, Dean! MJ's been kidnapped! You can barely stand! And all Dad can think about is getting his revenge!" Sam had taken to pacing the length of the room at the foot of Dean's bed. He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "This is so typical of him." He spat with disgust.

"Come on, Sammy. You always get like this with Dad. You guys are always at each other's throats. Now you don't know why he asked about the Colt. You just assume the worst because that's what you guys have always done."

Sam stopped, hands on his hips, facing his brother. "You know what? I am sick of you sticking up for him."

"Yeah? Well, I'm sick of always having to get in between the two of you!" Dean shouted. "Now why the fuck are you wasting time having a hissy fit, when we should be out there, finding our sister?!" Dean bellowed, finally succeeding in yanking the IV out of his arm. "Mother-"

"Excuse me!" a nurse admonished from the doorway, looking between Sam and Dean, clearly disapproving. "What is all the shouting about?" She moved to Dean's side. "Mr. Johnson, what have you done?" She asked picking up the ruined IV. She shook her head, looking very much like a mother of small children at her wits end with their behavior.

Sam turned away, still fuming, while the nurse checked Dean's vitals. She gathered up the tubing and discarded needle and looked between them. "I'll be back to fix this." She said, clearly a warning.

The nurse walked swiftly out, leaving silence in her wake. Sam remained with his back to his brother. The interruption seemed to have taken the steam out of both of them, anxiety and dread taking its place.

Dean heaved a sigh. "Look, Sammy- we're gonna find her, okay?"

Sam turned around, not quite looking at Dean. "How? I mean, where do we even start, Dean?"

"Where we always start." Dean said, trying to sound calm and confident, which were two things he definitely was not at the moment. He swung his legs off the bed with some effort. "Research, Sammy."

"John, John, John…" the demon shook his head, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Making deals with demons? What would your boys think?"

John made no acknowledgement of the demon's taunt. He stood his ground, taking a deep breath, the Colt grasped firmly in his hand. "It's a good deal and you know it. You get the gun and I get my daughter back." John tried to sound cool and collected. On the inside he was screaming. Every second that son of a bitch had MJ…every second's worth of torment and terror and pain she endured at his hands, was like an agonizing lifetime to John. He didn't think he could bare another minute of wondering what he was doing to her…what he had planned for her…he swallowed, focusing all of his energy on not flipping out and losing it.

"Let's just suppose I'm generous enough to do this." The demon said casually, considering John with a slight smirk on his face. Tracking them down, killing this thing…it won't be easy. You would really need to make it worth my while."

John was quickly losing patience. "Meaning what?" He snapped.

"Meaning," the demon said, taking a step toward John, staring him in the eye. "You'll need to sweeten the pot."

MJ could barely breathe. She was rooted to the ground in front of the grimy window. She didn't know how she had gotten here, or where here was for that matter. One moment she was lying on the bed, the demon standing over her, reaching out toward her. The next she was standing on the fire escape of an unfamiliar building, looking into a bedroom. She knew he was behind her, watching her for her reaction, but she didn't care. She only had eyes for the little blonde girl on the other side of the window. She watched intently as a man sat beside her on the bed. A familiar horror flooded through MJ as the man reached out a hand, slowly placing it on the small child's thigh. MJ felt her blood boil when she saw the look of fear on the girl's face.

She barely registered the demon's hand on her shoulder. "Can you feel it?" He whispered in MJ's ear. "Can you?" He repeated his voice full of ill-concealed excitement.

MJ didn't know what he meant, nor did she care. Her focus was still on the child. Then the little girl looked up at the man, and MJ saw it. Unmistakable shame in the little girl's eyes. And all at once she knew exactly what he meant. She could feel it. It felt like a fire, heating her body from the inside out. It started in her stomach, and spread, until she felt as if her fingertips were aflame. And somehow, instinctively, she knew what she could do. She reached up, placing her hands flat against the glass, staring hard at the man. His reaction was instantaneous, and MJ heard the cry of joy from the demon as the man on the other side of the glass clutched his chest, agony etched on his face as he collapsed onto the floor. Seconds later he stopped moving all together and his eyes remained wide open and lifeless. MJ stood there, shocked by the knowledge that she had just made that happen…somehow.

"You know how." The demon practically hissed in her ear, as if reading her mind. "Deep down, you know how you were able to save that child."

His choice of words jarred her out of her shocked silence. "Save her?" She repeated in disbelief, her gaze locked on the dead man lying on the floor at the child's feet. "I killed a man." Tears welled in her eyes. "I didn't save anyone."

The demon grabbed her shoulder and roughly yanked her around so she was facing him. He took a step forward, pinning her between his weight and the window. "You stopped a grown man from violating a helpless child, from taking from her what he has no right to take. You did this world a favor by disposing of him." He reached up slowly, wiping a tear from her cheek before taking hold of her chin. He stared into her eyes for a long moment before speaking again. "I know you understand that." He said slowly.

Dean was in his hospital room, attempting to dress himself so he could get the hell out of there. Sammy had left to do some recon on the demon that had their sister. He would be back in 30 minutes and the plan was that whether he'd found a lead or not, they were hitting the road and finding MJ. Of course, whether that 'we' included their father remained to be seen since he hadn't shown his face all morning. Dean shook his head, thinking about refereeing that argument if John didn't agree with the plan. Sammy was dead set on moving, and Dean couldn't really argue. He wasn't good at sitting around and wasting time on any case. When it came to MJ his instinct was to move, even if they had no idea what direction to move in. Dean was painfully pulling on a shirt when there was a soft knock at his door. There was a short, disheveled looking woman standing in the open doorway.

"Can I help you?" He asked, looking up at her as he buttoned his shirt.

She took a small, cautious step into the room. Her eyes were wide and she had a strange, panicked expression on her face as she hesitantly approached him.

"Dean." She said her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean's hands froze and he stared wide eyed at the woman. He could see it now. Behind the haunted, sunken in eyes, the sallow skin, the shaking hands. Beneath the ragged, baggy clothes. She looked so much older and thinner than last time he'd seen her. She was barely recognizable until he noticed the resemblance she bore to his sister.

"Wendy?" He asked disbelief plain in his voice.

She stood there, halfway across the room, chewing her lip, her fingers fiddling with the cuffs of her dingy, too big sweatshirt. She never really looked him in the eye as she spoke. "I know he took her. I know-" she swallowed audibly, frantically looking around the room, her eyes darting aimlessly. "You gotta find her."

Dean continued to button his shirt, feeling the rage washing over him, drowning the shock and making it nearly impossible for him to think. His hands shook with the effort of keeping his temper under control and he could barely finish buttoning his shirt. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, finding this did nothing to calm him down. Okay, he thought, it wouldn't help MJ right now if I beat this woman to death. It would only slow us down. Not to mention, she is a woman, and you've never hit a woman in your life. Another deep breath. He looked determinedly at his hands, not daring to look at her. Besides, look at her. She's so strung out she looks like she's knockin' on death's door anyway…of course maybe just a little push would help get her to the other side faster, Dean found himself thinking. He shook his head. Dude, you gotta keep it cool. He finally looked up at her with her head down and her eyes still darting around the room. She looked truly pathetic and if she were a stranger to him he would've no doubt taken pity on her. Then something occurred to Dean and he took a step toward her.

Wendy immediately flinched and moved back a step, cowering like a dog who knew a beating was coming. She still didn't look at him as she spoke, her words rushed and agony clear in her voice. "Please, do whatever you want to me, I don't care, but just find her. You have to find her."

Dean stood frozen in front of her for a moment. "How do you know he has her?" He demanded.

Wendy continued to chew on her lip, a tortured look in her eyes. She was silent.

Dean's hands curled into fists at his sides and he took another deep breath. "Wendy." He all but shouted. "Tell me how you know. Right now."

Wendy whimpered, looking around frantically for an escape.

Dean shook his head, quickly losing what little patience he had. "You're not leaving here until all of my questions are answered and by God I will get answers any way I can." He paused, making sure she knew he meant what he said. "Now tell me how you know."

She took a ragged breath and focused her eyes on the floor. Her hair fell like a filthy curtain in front of her face. "I could feel it. I knew the second she was with him."

"What do you mean you could feel it? Like a feeling that MJ was in danger?" Dean asked thinking of stories he'd heard about mother's sensing when their children were in danger. Somehow he wasn't buying that Wendy had that much of a maternal instinct.

Wendy was shaking her head. "I can feel him." She barely whispered. "I've always been able to feel him." She ran a shaking hand through her knotted hair. "He's really happy right now, but…" her head dropped again, her eyes on the floor.

"But what?" Dean yelled down at her.

She finally looked up at Dean, desperation in her eyes. "But he's losing patience with her."

They were back in the white room. MJ was sitting stock still on the edge of the bed, exactly where she had sat before they'd left. The demon was pacing in front of her. His hands clasped behind his back, his expression carefully void of emotion.

"Do you see now how valuable your gifts could be? How truly extraordinary you are? You and I could help so many people together."

MJ was staring straight ahead, replaying what she had just done over and over in her head. She had taken a human life. She was horrified, disgusted. Yet, there was another feeling there, overshadowed by the guilt and disdain, but still there. She couldn't name it, but it made her feel…powerful…like no one could ever hurt her again. Like she was almost invincible.

"When you're with me your full potential is realized." He paused in his pacing and turned to face her, leaning down so he was eye to eye with her. "And I can help you become even stronger. You could become so much more powerful, Mary Jane. Saving that precious little child was only the beginning. You could do so much more." He took hold of her face in both hands. "You could be stronger than all of the things you and your brothers hunt combined. More fierce than any evil dwelling in the dark. You have that inside of you. You only need to embrace it."

There was silence for several moments, the demon still holding her face. Mary Jane looked into his eyes as his words tumbled around inside her head. Powerful. Extraordinary. Fierce. Evil.

"People would be afraid of me." She said, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"You would be revered, respected. Only those who harbor ill will toward humanity would have reason to fear you."

He sat beside her on the bed. "All you have to do is say yes. You'll never be a victim again. You will never feel powerless or weak. Imagine never having to depend on someone to save you." He leaned in close to her. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he whispered, "Never needing someone you love to risk their life for you."

MJ felt a shiver run through her. He was good. He knew what would get her attention. What would appeal to her the most: a world where she would never be a burden to Sam or Dean or her father again. A world where she never had to rely on anyone but herself…

The tears were streaming down her face now as she stared straight ahead. And as she contemplated the possibility that what he described could be real, she heard a voice in her head, clear as day.

"You know you're safe with me, right?... I just don't want to see you get hurt… They're not taking you. They can try, but it's not gonna happen. … Take it easy, Kid. It's gonna be okay, I promise… You know that if something is bothering you, anything, you can tell me and I'll take care of it… We're not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Whatever this thing is, it's not going to get anywhere near you… Like I told you before we want you here, MJ… 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… I'm only gonna say this one time, Mary Jane, so listen up. You deserve to be taken care of. So let me take care of you… This is where you belong, kiddo. This is home.

And this time she really heard Dean…and she knew that he meant it all those times he told her she belonged, that he would always take care of her no matter what. That she was safe with him and Sam.

In that moment, the demon's intentions became as clear to her as if she had had a vision. Looking into his eyes, she could see him molding her into his weapon, using her to frighten other demons into following him. He wanted to use her to gain power and destroy anyone who stood in his way.

The demon was silent now, sitting stock still beside her and she knew he was waiting for her answer. She took a shaky breath, her entire body trembling as she turned slowly to face him. He was staring back at her, his eyes shining in anticipation. She swallowed, looking silently up at him, unable to make her voice work. He slowly reached out, cupping her cheek with his hand and wiping away her tears.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers and whispered, "Just say the word and I'll make it happen." He leaned further so his forehead was resting on hers. MJ closed her eyes, shivering. "Mary Jane," he said, barely audibly. "I am your future."

MJ took a breath, slowly opening her eyes. She steeled herself, her heart pounding madly in her chest. She held his gaze for a long moment before speaking. "Never." She said with as much conviction as she could muster through the haze of fear and panic.

There was dead silence for a beat. She saw the light in his eyes go out. His expression turned murderous and in one quick movement he was standing over her. The careful façade was gone and MJ had only a second to register that he was going to kill her before he flicked his wrist and she was flung to the wall behind her, the force causing the paintings there to rattle. The breath was ripped from her lungs and she found herself pinned there, unable to move even her pinky finger. She watched him closely, and while he didn't appear to move, he was suddenly standing right in front of her. His right hand flew out, clasping down on her throat. She gasped for breath as he leaned into her.

"You'll join me, or you'll die." He spat, a vein in his neck bulging out and his eyes pitch black. "You'll die," he repeated, "but not before you watch me skin your brothers and father alive!" He squeezed harder and her head swam as she was overcome with terror. "You'll beg me to let you die when I'm through!"

She was beginning to grow faint when suddenly a man appeared behind the demon. MJ's vision was blurred both from the tears and from being on the verge of unconsciousness, but she watched as the man lazily waved his hand, as if swatting at a fly and the demon released her, his eyes growing wide with shock as he took a step back away from her.

MJ crumpled to the floor sucking in air as quickly as her burning throat and lungs would let her. She lay there in a heap, trying and failing to pull herself to her hands and knees. She turned her head, looking up at the men standing in front of her.

The demon was now standing beside MJ, his back against the wall. He looked up at the man who had appeared in awe.

"Azazel." He said, reverence in his voice, his head slightly bowed.

The other man took one step forward, his expression almost bored. He reached out his hand and touched the demon's forehead. Almost instantly the demon collapsed, landing beside MJ on the floor.

MJ scrambled away from him, looking up at the man who was now staring down at her. That's when she noticed his eyes…yellow. She gasped, trying like hell to get to her feet, to get away, but she couldn't. He moved toward her, leaning down, nearly smiling as he crouched down in front of her. He considered her carefully for several moments, looking her over, making MJ shiver with unease.

"Well." He finally said. "Today's your lucky day, kid." He reached out suddenly and before MJ could react, everything went black.

"Okay, here's the deal!" Dean had to shout to be heard over Sam and his father who were one step away from an all-out brawl in the middle of Dean's hospital room. Wendy was standing in the corner, biting at her nails, looking frantic. Dean moved between Sam and John, a hand on each of their chests. He turned toward his father. "Sam and I are going, Dad. That's that. You can stay here if you want, but I cannot sit here another second while she's out there with that thing, having God knows what done to her." John opened his mouth, but Dean spoke over him. "I won't!"

John stayed quiet as Dean grabbed up his duffel bag and turned to Sam. "Sammy, let's go." He said.

Dean turned toward the door, intent on walking out without another word to his father. He was pissed and he knew any more talking and he would say something he'd really regret. Dean was nearly out the door, Sammy following behind him, when Wendy's scream stopped him dead in his tracks.

MJ was disoriented. She didn't know where she was and she was far too weak to move. She was able to register that she was lying on a cold floor before she heard a loud scream and was scooped up off the floor and pulled into a tight embrace. She still couldn't open her eyes as someone rail thin held her tightly and cried hysterically in her ear.

"Oh, baby, thank God!"

And through the exhaustion and confusion MJ recognized that voice.

"Mom?" She forced her eyes open and saw Sam and Dean standing over her in shocked silence. Her gaze shifted to John who was across the room. Peering over Wendy's shoulder she locked eyes with him. He smiled, looking relieved, as he took a step toward her. MJ gave a weak smile back wanting to reach out to him, but not able to make her body move. Suddenly John stopped short, his expression becoming saddened, the color leaching from his face. MJ watched in horror as the light left her father's eyes and he collapsed to the floor.