Alright, we've got 5 more chapters to go (including this one) before I wrap up season 2 and this story! This chapter might be one of my faves that I've written so far, so I hope you enjoy reading it.

Thank you Shazza19 and Angeleyes31102 for your reviews on the last chapter and for reviewing this story regularly. I really, really appreciate it :)

13. Born Under A Bad Sign

My cell phone rang. I stretched out to pick it up instantly from the passenger seat. "Hey."

"You got anything yet?"

I wished I had better news for him, but I'd come up empty at every turn. "I've been to the places you asked me to go. No one's seen him."

"Goddammit. I'm sick to my stomach."

Dean had called me two days earlier, frantic. Sam had been missing for a week and Dean had asked me to check out a few places and talk to a few hunters he knew to see if they had heard anything. After I chewed him out for not calling me sooner, I hightailed it out of the motel I was staying in, thankful I was in-between cases at the time. If I had been in the middle of something else, I probably wouldn't have stayed to close it out. Over those two days, Dean had been checking in, getting more and more worried as time went by. And who could blame him? Sam was not the type to just wander off without saying anything. No one needed to say it: Sam was in trouble. Wherever he was.

"I'm on my way to you now," I said, driving through the torrential downpour that had me worried my windscreen was gonna shatter. "I should be—"

A beep sounded over the line.

"Hold on," Dean said. "I'll call you back."

I put the phone down on my lap, knowing Dean would keep to his word. He'd been Mr Communication the past forty-eight hours. Truth be told, I was worried about Sam too. And that was the thing with getting to know people, forming connections: when shit went south, as it always did, you were left with this deep pit in your chest. Sam could take care of himself, no doubt. But the fact that he hadn't contacted his brother in all this time, was unsettling to say the least. I didn't know how Dean hadn't completely lost his mind yet.

A minute later my phone rang again and I snatched it back up.

"I found him."

The breath I didn't even realise I'd been holding whooshed out of me at Dean's declaration. "Where is he? He all right?"

"He's at some motel. He seems ok." I could hear the relief clear as day in Dean's voice. Though there was still an underlining trace of concern. "At least until I get there and kick his ass."

I chuckled, more out of my own sense of relief than actual humour. "Yeah, give him a kick from me too, would ya? Call me if you need anything else."

He took a deep breath. "I will. Thanks."

I pulled over to the side of the road, now having no destination. I could have carried on to meet up with Dean, but I figured he could handle his brother. The important thing was that he was found. The rest Dean could deal with. Right then, what I wanted most was to get off the road. It was getting a little too gnarly out there to continue driving, and a drink and some sleep wouldn't have gone amiss. I was currently in Minnesota and knew I wasn't too far from a familiar face—if she was still there. With not much else to do, I turned the car around and headed east.

I pulled up outside the Sandpiper, a bar on the edge of town by the ports. It was late in the evening, so the car park was almost full. I hopped out and went into the bar, being met with the sound of guitar riffs from the jukebox and the clatter of pool balls sinking into the pockets of the pool tables. I weaved my way through the tables, heading to the bar. I sat on an empty stool at the far side of the bar and thumped my fist on the top to get the attention of the blonde bartender who had her back to me.

"Hey, do hunters get a discount on beer?"

Jo turned around and when recognition hit, she smiled and headed over. "Hey! How are you?"

I got up to lean over the bar and we hugged. We had spoken a time or two on the phone since the Holmes case, and even met up once, spending most of our time hustling men out of their cash in poker games. That evening in particular ended up with us covered head to toe in milk, stinking of garlic, and killing a wraith with multiple blows of a hatchet to the head—best not to ask questions; it's a long story.

"Well, I'm alive," I said. "I didn't know if you'd still be here. How you been?"

"I've been good and figured this was a good a place as any to settle for a little while," she said as she put a bottle in front of me.

"How's the hunting been going?" I asked.

"I've been getting my hands dirty, doing a bit here and there. And hey… I'm still alive."

"I'll drink to that." I raised my bottle in salute and took a drink. "I'm glad it's all working out for you. Heard from your mom?"

She smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind her eyes. "We tend to talk via postcard, these days. I've discovered we get on a lot better with a little distance between us."

I wasn't sure Ellen would ever be comfortable having her little girl go off hunting after all that she'd lost. "I can imagine. So, tell me more about these hunts you've been on?"

We talked in between Jo serving her customers, but while she was busy, I had a look around the room. I thought it best to leave it at two beers for now and could occupy myself another way. When Jo got back from clearing glasses and bottles from an empty table, I beckoned her over before she went behind the bar.

"So who's up for the taking tonight?" I asked, knowing Jo would know what I meant.

"Depends," she replied. "You fancy pool or poker?"

"Oooh, tough choice." I scanned the room again. There was a table where a few guys and a girl were quietly playing poker, and a couple of pool tables where raucous chatter and laughter emanated. "Let's go with pool."

She nodded like I'd picked the right option. "Then you wanna play with Eddie over there."

I looked over to where she pointed. The loudest of the bunch, aka Eddie, stood a good half a foot below the other guys he played with. Everything he wore was denim and he somehow managed to manoeuvre himself so his beer gut wasn't completely getting in his way. Yet it was his choice of facial hair that really drew my attention.

"You mean Mr Eighties Porn Star Moustache?"

She laughed. "The very one. He doesn't take losing to a woman too badly. Can get a little handsy if you're not too careful."

"Noted." I took my final sip of beer and began to wander over.

"Have fun," Jo called out. I stuck my thumb up in the air.

I walked up to the pool table and braced my arms on the opposite side of where Eddie was lining up his shot. "How much on a game?"

He raised up from his position, looking me up and down. "For a pretty girl like you? Twenty bucks."

I scoffed. "That's a little insulting. And the price is not worth my time." I trailed my hand across the edge of the table as I started to walk back to the bar.

"Ok little lady, how much you willin' to lay down?" he said.

I stopped and turned back to him. "Hmm. Let's say... two hundred?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "You're on. But don't say I didn't warn ya. Let me finish teaching this guy who owns these tables, and I'll be right with ya."

I stood back with my arms folded and watched him play. It didn't take him long to clear the table and his opponent handed over his money like he'd lost to him more than once. Wordlessly, I set the table up as he strutted around like a peacock in front of the small group of people that had been watching the game. When it was ready, I picked up my cue and waited for him to do the same.

Once he was ready, cue in hand, he winked at me. "As I'm a gentleman, I'll let you break."

I shrugged and got into position. I pulled the cue back ready, then sent it through with as much force as I could. A crack rang through the air and the balls scattered. Two stripes landed in opposite corners.

I stood back up and sent him the sweetest smile. "Guess I'm stripes."

I continued sinking balls, with Eddie looking on with a mix of fascination and wounded male pride, until I missed the sixth ball, and he shook off all fear of losing and swaggered into position. The man certainly had a way of walking around a pool table.

For a moment, I was slightly concerned—but only slightly—that he might beat me. I wouldn't have argued about it; fair is fair. But there was something a little more fragile than male pride… hunter pride. Thankfully he missed his sixth ball too.

As I lined my shot up, ready to sink both balls that were left, I felt Eddie hovering near me, and Jo's warning replayed in my mind.

Without taking my eyes off my shot, I said, "If that hand comes any closer to my ass, I'm gonna shove this stick somewhere you won't find comfortable."

He whooped in response. "You got a little fire in you."

"Oh you have no idea." With that I sunk my last ball and got ready to pocket the black. Eddie tried distracting me, talking nonsense that I could easily block out. My cue struck the white ball, the white went careening into the black, sending the black disappearing down the middle pocket.

I stood back up and walked over to Eddie, palm outstretched.

With a muttered, "Damn girl," he handed me my winnings.

I stuffed the money in my back pocket. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Eddie had already lined up another game by the time I was halfway back to the bar. Jo met me with a high five and a fresh beer.

I sat back down on the stool, pride fully intact. "Sometimes it really is like taking candy from a baby."

"Good night. Thank you."

The last of the customers began trailing out the door. Jo had offered me her sofa for the night, and I was more than willing to accept.

"Alright, I'll help you grab the glasses but I gotta visit the little girls' room first." I got off the stool and headed to the back where the bathrooms were. It had been a nice change of pace that evening. I didn't often hang around with people, much less get to talk shop with another hunter without actually being on a case. I could see myself becoming friends with Jo. We were more similar than I had realised, both happy to have our own company most of the time.

I did my business then went back to help Jo close up. I stopped in my tracks. To my surprise, someone had joined her.

"Sam?"

He turned from his spot at the bar.

"Rae! I didn't realise you were here." He looked from me to Jo and back again. "Huh. It's like a two-for-one."

I walked over to give him a hug. It was a relief to see with my own eyes that he was ok. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with Dean."

"Yeah, I was." He winced. "We had a little disagreement, so I needed a little space."

There was something strange about how he had responded, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe something more than a 'little disagreement' had happened. Wouldn't be the first time. "Are you alright? You had us worried. I thought Dean was gonna have a stroke over it."

He shook his head and did an over-exaggerated shrug. "Just a misunderstanding. That's all."

Huh. Ok. I should have long ago stopped questioning whenever something strange happened when the Winchesters were around. Whatever had really happened, they'd make up in time.

"You still haven't told me why you're here," Jo said as she placed empty bottles on the top. "I mean we didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

After the Holmes case, I remember Jo and Dean having some sort of disagreement. Actually, it was probably more than that; Jo had been majorly pissed. I never did find out what had happened, and it obviously hadn't been resolved.

"Right. Um, well, that's why I'm here. I kinda wanted to see if we could square things, you know?"

"I'll start the clear up while you guys talk." I headed over to the far side of the room but as this place wasn't all that big, I could still hear what they were saying. But hey, at least they had the illusion of privacy.

"That looks like it hurts."

Sam had taken off his jacket and Jo was looking down at something on his arm.

"No. Nah, just had a run-in with a hot stove."

"So you were saying something about squaring things?" Jo said.

"Yeah. Um... look, I know how you feel about my dad. And I can't say I blame you. He was obsessed, consumed with hunting. And he didn't care who got caught in the crossfire. And I guess that included your dad. But that was my father. That's not me."

Damn, that didn't sound good. I knew Jo's father had died while on a hunting trip, and from the sounds of it, John was with him when it happened.

"What about Dean?" Jo asked.

"Well, Dean's more like my father than I am, but he…" Sam chuckled faintly. "Boy, you're really carrying a torch for him, aren't you?"

Oh God, I really didn't want to be here for this conversation. Jo and I had avoided all Winchester talk when we had spoken before, specifically Dean Winchester talk. It had been obvious that Jo had a crush on him during the Holmes case and there was a little tension between us at first. But I'd honestly shrugged it off. And then I went off with Dean and did… that. Yeah, this was awkward.

I picked up the glasses I'd collected and brought them back behind the bar, keeping my back to them as I worked.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sam said. "It's too bad. 'Cause see, Dean, he likes you, sure, but not in the way you'd want. I mean, maybe as kind of a… a little sister, you know? But romance? That's just out of the question."

I paused in the middle of throwing empty bottles in the trash. What the hell was wrong with Sam? It wasn't like him at all to be so cruel.

"I mean that's why I'm so surprised to see you two all chummy."

At that I turned my head, knowing he was talking about Jo and I.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Oh you don't know?" Once again, he looked back and forth between us and I knew from the look on his face, I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "She's screwing Dean."

Holy shit! The bottle I'd been holding smashed to the floor as I spun towards him. "Sam, what the fuck?!"

"I'm sorry," he said looking anything other than sorry. "I didn't—"

I couldn't believe what he had said. Couldn't believe he would act that way. And the crux of the matter was… Sam would never act that way.

Slowly, not taking my eyes off of Sam, I took out my knife from its sheath at my back. "Jo, get away from him. That's not Sam."

Jo backed up from him, eyes wide.

"Rae, it's me. I was just saying…"

I locked eyes with him, my grip tightening on my knife. His eyes dropped down to it. In a flash, he was up. He leaned over the bar and grabbed the collar of my jacket with both hands. As I went to slash out with the knife, he hauled me up and threw me over the front of the bar. I landed with a painful thud and was sent rolling across the floor.

Glass smashed as Jo's cries rose in the air.

"Sam, get off me! Sam! Get off!"

I grabbed my knife from the floor where it had landed and got back up. Sam had Jo pinned over the bar, her hair clenched in his grasp.

"Let her go."

Sam turned to look at me. He raised an eyebrow. "Let her go? Ok."

He clenched his hands tighter in her hair and without taking his eyes off me, he slammed her head onto the counter. She fell to the floor, out cold.

"So you're the Winchesters' puppy," he said, creeping towards me, "following them around, waiting for a pat on the head for a job well done. Kind of sad, isn't it?"

I backed up as he moved forward, not sure what I was dealing with. Was it a shapeshifter again? There was only one way to find out. "Whoever you are, whatever you are, you're not going to be wearing Sam's face for long."

I sprang forward, lashing out with my knife. Sam jumped backwards. Every cut I tried to make, every stab I lunged to make, Sam dodged. I threw my knife to my other hand, catching him off guard and managed to slice his arm. I looked up at him. There was no reaction to the silver. He only smiled. But this smile was pure evil. He grabbed me by the hair, just as he had done with Jo. I tried to get out of his grip, but it was like his arms were steel banded around me.

He leaned closer to me. "Night, night."

He threw me at the pillar next to us. A terrible, blinding pain raced across my head as it made contact. I felt myself falling back when everything went dark.

"Our dads were in California: Devil's Gate Reservoir. They were setting a trap for some kind of hellspawn. John was hiding, waiting, and my dad was bait."

I heard the voices before I fully woke up. My head was pounding and when I opened my eyes, the room was spinning.

"That's just like John. Oh, I'll bet he dangled Bill like meat on a hook. Then what?"

It wasn't a shapeshifter, but that thing wearing his face looked just like Sam. What the hell is going on? I then noticed my current situation. I was tied to the column I'd been thrown face first into. Across from me, Jo was in the same position.

"The thing showed up," she was saying. "John got too eager, jumped out too soon, got my dad exposed, out in the open. The thing turned around... and killed him."

So John had messed up on the hunting trip. No wonder she hadn't been talking to the boys. Still, it was hardly their fault. Sometimes we really did pay for the sins of our fathers.

Sam, or whatever it was, stood beside her, leaning in closer and closer, all the while playing with her hair with a knife. "Hmm. Not quite."

"What?" she asked.

"What? Oh. See, it hurt him. It didn't kill him." He chuckled. "You really don't know the truth, do you? I bet your mom doesn't either."

"Know what?"

"You see, Bill was all clawed up. Was holding his insides in his hands. He was gurgling and praying to see you and Ellen one more time. So my dad... killed him. Put him out of his misery like a sick dog."

This was sick. Agony weighed on her with every word Sam said. Even from here I stood, I could see the tears she was so desperately trying to hold back. Whatever it was that was playing Sam, the son of a bitch was enjoying every minute of it.

"You're lying." Her voice trembled.

"That's not Sam," I said. "It's lying to you."

Sam barely spared me a glance. He looked at Jo, almost pleading with her. "I'm not lying to you, Jo. I wouldn't do that. It's all true." Then he started to sing in a psychotic, child-like way, "My daddy shot your daddy in the head."

"How could you know that?" she asked with a hint of fire.

"I hear things," he said with a casual shrug.

"Whatever this thing is," I said, "it's trying to get into your head. Don't listen to it."

He finally took notice of me. He stood there looking at me as if he was unsure what he was going to do with me. He hadn't known I was here; he'd come for Jo. I wasn't part of his original plan.

He turned back to Jo and stuffed a rag in her mouth, tying it around the back of her head. "Good girl. You stand there quietly playing bait. Just like your daddy."

Then he came over to me, his eyes piercing mine. It felt like minutes had passed before he spoke.

"You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

"I think I'd remember," I snarled.

"No, no, no," he murmured, getting closer. "It's your eyes. I know you."

I didn't know what this piece of shit was talking about, but we definitely weren't acquainted. The only thing that he was going to get acquainted with was the sensation of my knife as I buried it in its chest.

"Oh well." He stabbed the knife into the pillar, embedding it above my head. "Do you ever wonder what they think of you? Sam and Dean, I mean. Because you were right, sort of. See, I am Sam, but I'm not. It's a little complicated right now."

What the hell was this thing?

"I know what they think of you. Should I share with the class?" he said wearing a maniacal grin.

"I think you're mistaking me for someone who gives a damn about what other people think."

He chortled, head shaking in wonder. "I genuinely think you actually believe that. So if I told you that they sit around and laugh at you; that Dean thinks you're only useful for a good lay… that doesn't bother you?"

Over the years, I'd learned to toughen my skin. So maybe it may have pissed me off a little, but hurt me? No. Not that I believed a thing this asshole was saying. I shook my head and grinned. "Not in the slightest."

He laughed as he leaned closer again. "Oh you are gonna be so fun to play with."

"Go to Hell," I snarled.

All laughter fled his face. The first sign of the monster beneath the facade crept to the surface. "Been there, done that," he growled.

In that moment, it clicked. It was with picture perfect clarity. I think I know what you are. And then I realised how much trouble we were actually in.

Suddenly the door burst open. Dean came in, gun in his hands. "Sam!"

Sam yanked the knife out of the wood and held it to my throat. "I begged you to stop me, Dean."

"Put the knife down, dammit." Dean and I made eye contact. I tried to shake my head, telling him not to shoot him, but the blade restricted my movements.

"I told you I can't fight it!" Sam screamed, putting on a show. "My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean, kill me, or I'm going to kill Rae. Then I'll kill Jo. Please. You'd be doing me a favour! Shoot me." He took the knife from my throat and spread his arms wide, begging for Dean to pull the trigger. "Shoot me!"

"Dean, don't. It's—"

Sam pressed the knife back against my throat, harder this time, cutting off my words.

Dean stood, gun steady. There was a heavy pause before he spoke. "No, Sammy, come on." He lowered the gun and turned away.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean?" Sam screamed. "Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let them die?"

Dean turned abruptly, flinging water from a flask directly at Sam. As it hit him, steam rose around him, and he hissed in pain.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!"

Sam raised his head and my breath caught in my throat when his eyes appeared solid black. When he seemed so pissed at me telling him to go to Hell, I figured he was probably a demon. But seeing it, seeing Sam like that, was horrible.

Dean flung more holy water at him until the demon couldn't take any more. He turned and ran straight at the window. He burst through it and fled. Dean sprang into action. He grabbed a knife and quickly cut through Jo's bindings.

"Cut Rae loose," he said as he ran for the window.

Jo pulled her gag out as she came over to me. "He was possessed?" she asked Dean.

He turned to look back at both of us, and without a word, jumped through the window.

"Dean!" Jo called after him, but he was long gone.

She cut through the rope around me. "Do you have holy water?" I asked frantically as I pulled the rope away.

"I don't know, I—"

Not waiting for her to continue, I dashed out the door and ran to my truck. I opened the trunk and rummaged through everything I had, knowing I had some holy water in there somewhere. Goddamnit, why don't I keep anything organised?! Eventually I found two bottles of it hidden underneath my shotgun. I grabbed them and a pistol.

I ran back to the bar and threw one towards Jo. "Here. Stay here in case he circles back." Then I followed the boys out of the window.

Above the sound of the lapping water, I could hear voices coming from the warehouse next to the bar. I stalked inside. It was dark and damp and eerily silent save for the echoing voices of Dean and Sam.

"Well, I hope you got your kicks," Dean said. "'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that."

I ducked down behind some wooden boxes, gun at the ready, unable to tell exactly where they were. I crept closer to where I thought Dean's voice had come from when I heard Sam's voice somewhere off to my right.

"How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother. Unless you want to follow Daddy's orders and waste him."

I froze. What did he mean by that? Daddy's orders? That didn't make any sense.

"See, I think you're gonna die, Dean," he continued. "You and every other hunter I can find. Just like the one you thought Sam had murdered. One look at Sam's dewy, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right through the door."

There was a sound of a door swinging open then closing shut. Hurried footsteps followed. There was no more talking, so I straightened and ran in that direction. Before I could get there, a gun went off. My heart skipped a beat. I picked up my pace, no longer caring if anyone heard me coming. The door led to a dock. It was empty. Someone had just shot off a shot out there. But Dean, though armed, would never have shot Sam, so that meant…

"Dean!"

I ran to the edge of the dock. The water below was pitch black. I couldn't jump in. I couldn't. I had a deep-rooted fear of open water ever since I nearly drowned as a child. But even if I did jump in, I wouldn't have been able to see a foot in front of me. "Dean!" There was no sign of him. I raced back to Jo.

"I can't find Dean. I think Sam shot him."

She grabbed a pair of flashlights and immediately started calling Dean. Why hadn't I thought of that? Not that I would have expected an answer. We split up, searching high and low across the dock. I was getting more worried with each passing second. We made a lap around the place and met back up where we'd started.

"Nothing," I said.

She tried calling Dean's cell again. His ringtone sounded out from behind us. We ran down the side of the dock and saw Dean slumped unconscious against a ramp, half in the water.

"Dean! Dean!" Jo called as we hunched over him.

He started coughing and groaned as he rolled over.

"Here," she said. "Take it easy."

Dean, shuddering with the cold, said, "Where's Sam?"

"We don't know," I answered. "We've been looking for you. Come on, get up."

We helped him to stand, taking his weight as he leaned between us. He groaned and clutched his shoulder as we started back to the bar.

"You got a kit?" I asked Jo when we got Dean settled in a chair. Thank God the demon had shot him in the shoulder; it would hurt like a bitch for a while, but he'd live.

"Yeah, in the office at the back."

I hurried through to the office and found the med kit in the bottom drawer of the desk. When I got back to the front of the bar, Dean had shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeve to expose the bullet hole that Jo was pouring alcohol over. He grimaced through the sting. I handed Jo the kit and she started patching him up.

I paced up and down the bar by the pool tables, wondering how any of this had happened. Sam had been missing for a week. Did that mean this demon had been inside that long? And that begged the question of what the demon had done in that time. In the warehouse, Sam had said something about a hunter being murdered. That could lead to a whole other host of problems.

Dean let out a loud yelp. Jo was trying to dig the bullet out of him, and he wasn't being the easiest patient. Go figure.

"Don't be a baby!" Jo reprimanded him as she continued trying to get the bullet out.

"God!"

"Almost. All right, got it." She dropped the blood-soaked bullet into a glass.

"God, you're a butcher," he said, then drank a healthy dose of alcohol straight from the bottle.

"You're welcome."

"All right, are we done?"

"Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." She began to tape gauze to his shoulder. "So, how did you know? That he was possessed?"

"Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him."

I should have spotted it earlier. I mean I thought something was off, but I'd dismissed it. I should have stuck with my gut and then maybe Jo and I wouldn't have ended up with matching goose eggs on our heads.

"Hey, Dean?" Jo said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"I know demons lie, but… do they ever tell the truth too?" she asked. I knew why she was asking him, but she wasn't going to get the answer she hoped for.

"Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess," he replied, taking another swig from the bottle. "Especially if they know it'll mess with your head. Why do you ask?"

"They lie too, Jo," I added. "Don't go there." She shouldn't have to carry the weight of the picture the demon had painted of her father's final moments. Maybe the demon had been lying, maybe not. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.

She met my eyes, before quickly looking away. I hadn't forgotten the other bit of information the demon had dropped. And neither had Jo.

"So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?" she asked as she finished patching him up.

"Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so… closest one I know lives in South Dakota."

"Okay good, I'm done. Let's go." She stood up, eager to leave.

Dean stood up too, gingerly putting on his jacket. "Yeah, you're not coming."

I wasn't surprised at his order; he'd been protective of Jo on the last case. That wasn't going to change anytime soon.

"The hell I'm not," she said, standing her ground, crossing her arms. "I'm a part of this now."

"I can't say it more plain than this: you try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight." Oh, classic Dean Winchester line. "I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue but thought better of it. She silently, but bitterly, watched Dean walk away.

When he came to go past me to the door, I stood at the side, glaring at him. "Don't even think about it." If he thought he could lay that same speech on me, he had another thing coming.

He glared right back at me, and we stood there in a silent battle of wills until he eventually sighed and walked out the bar shaking his head. I knew I had to hurry after him. He wouldn't hesitate to leave me in the dust, but I couldn't go without taking to Jo first.

I turned to her and tried to brace myself for the awkwardness that was about to consume me and the entire room. "Jo… about what that thing told you, about Dean and I? It was one night and it didn't mean any—"

She held up her hand for me to stop. My mouth snapped shut. "Can we… can we just not?" She shrugged. "It is what it is, right?"

What else could I say? I didn't want to press it any further; didn't want to rub salt into the wound. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. "I'm gonna…"

"Go. It's fine."

It was anything but fine.

"I'm sorry," I said as I turned and went after Dean. So much for our budding friendship.

I got outside just as Dean was climbing into an old, dusty car. Sam must have taken the Impala. The fact that he hadn't bitched about that showed just how worried for Sam he was.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked as I walked up behind him.

He paused with his hand on the open door. "To help my brother."

"Get in the truck."

He turned, his lips curled up in disgust. "No."

"Your shoulder—"

"Look," he said, and I knew I was about to get a similar talking to that he'd given Jo. "I don't need Jo, I don't need you. This is my problem, my brother, and I'm gonna fix it." I jabbed his wounded shoulder. "Ow!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Also, it wasn't too long ago you were telling me what scared you most and here we are." I vividly remember sitting on that motel bed, Dean telling me how he feared this whole situation with the yellow-eyed demon and what might happen to Sam. He wasn't going through this on his own, whether he liked it or not. "Now stop playing the goddamn martyr and get in the damn truck!"

Just like Jo had, he looked like he wanted to argue but knew he wasn't going to win. I could see that his shoulder was killing him, so there was no way he was going to make the drive in time. Reluctantly, he strode over to my truck, flung open the passenger door and climbed in.

I got in, started the truck and pulled out of the car park. "Whereabouts in South Dakota am I heading to?"

"Sioux Falls," he grumbled in response.

"What hunter lives in Sioux Falls?"

"Bobby."

The name rang a bell. The boys had mentioned him a time or two before.

Dean pulled out his cell from his pocket. "Dammit, I've got no signal out here."

"Try again in a little while. And seeing as we've got a long drive, I have some questions."

"Great."

I took a deep breath before beginning. "I heard what Sam—what that demon said earlier, when you were in the warehouse. He said something about you following your dad's orders to waste Sam." It sounded bizarre to even say. "Please tell me he was lying." I took my eyes off the road for a second to look over at him. I didn't like what I saw. His eyes were closed in pain. But I knew the pain wasn't from his injured shoulder.

"You've got to be kidding me! John told you to kill Sam?!" I yelled, instantly furious and disgusted. How could that have been true? Why on earth would John tell Dean that?

"It's not that simple," he said quietly.

I huffed. "Sounds like a pretty simple instruction from where I'm sitting. Explain. And I swear to God if you even think of telling me it's none of my business, I will leave you on the side of the road. I have had Sam's back before. Don't shut me out now."

He sighed, resigned to the fact he wasn't escaping this conversation. "All he told me was that I had to save Sam, and if I couldn't… I'd have to kill him."

"Save him from what?"

"I dunno. Best guess is this yellow-eyed demon crap." He sat there, staring out the windshield, sullen.

I didn't think I would ever wrap my head around John telling Dean that. No matter how many times I heard it.

"When the hell did he tell you this?" I asked.

"In the hospital, just before he died."

The picture flooded back to me. Dean had just gotten out of his coma and I was watching John in his room. "I was sitting outside. He leaned down to whisper something to you. Then?"

"Yeah."

My blood boiled. This story was just getting worse and I could no longer hold myself in check. "So knowing he was going to die, he left that little nugget for you. Jesus! Don't get me wrong, I know your dad was a great hunter, hell he even saved my life and looked out for me over the years, but lately I've come to see what an asshole he could be."

He spun towards me, his own eyes lit with anger. "Hey!" He growled the word at me.

I shoved my finger in his direction. "Don't you 'hey' me in that tone! Your father, in his last moments on this planet, told you to do the one thing that would absolutely destroy you to do. Killing Sam would kill you too. If I know that, then he knew that too! That is the definition of an asshole move. So yeah, don't 'hey' me."

Dean seemed to deflate, the anger leaving him. Maybe it was harsh of me to say, but I knew I wasn't wrong. And he knew it too.

I drove in silence. Dean continued trying to get a hold of Bobby but without any luck.

A few minutes later, I remembered I had another question. "Did… did you tell Sam we slept together?"

"What?"

"You heard."

"No!" he scoffed. "Why would I? Why are you even asking me that?"

"Because Sam told Jo."

"And?"

"And she obviously has a thing for you. It hurt her feelings."

"Well I'm sorry but she's a big girl and she's gonna have to suck it up. My brother is possessed by some demon. You think feelings are more important to me right now than that?" he sneered.

"I didn't say it was more important. Just… just forget it."

We were back to weighted silence. Every time I felt we were taking a step forward in our… friendship? Partnership? Acquaintance-ship—Was that even a goddamn word? —the next time we met, we took ten steps back. The man could infuriate me like nothing and no one else.

He started trying to move his shoulder in a circular motion and groaned all the way through it.

"You know, I'm gonna try and break every speed limit there is from here to Sioux Falls, but it's still gonna be a long journey and I can't have you whining all the way."

A look of shock covered his face. "Whining?! I got shot!"

"There's a bag on the floor behind my seat. There should be some painkillers in there."

He shook his head in amazement at me before leaning over behind my seat. "Telling me I'm whining," he mumbled. "I'd like to see her get shot. See how she likes it." Just as he was about to pull up the bag, he stopped. "Short stack, you do know someone has drawn all over the back of your chair, right?"

Trust him to notice that. "I'm aware." My tone made no room for continuing that line of conversation.

Dean directed me through the archway of a salvage yard. I drove through the sea of rusted, totalled cars, before pulling up in front of a worn-down blue house. As soon as the car stopped, Dean was flying out the door, racing up the front steps of the house. I was right behind him.

"Bobby!" Dean called out as soon as we got inside.

We skidded to a stop just past the doorway. The house was gloomy, but a fire roared to life inside a room that was stacked with piles and piles of books. Sam was out cold on the floor. A man, who I assumed was Bobby, stood over him.

"You took your time," he said. "Here, help me get him in the chair and tie him up."

Dean and I jumped into action, helping Bobby lift Sam's lumbering form onto a wooden chair. Bobby passed Dean a length of rope and I helped to wind it around his wrists, tying it to the arms of the chair.

"And you are?"

I looked up to find Bobby gazing down at me.

"Rae." I introduced myself while continuing to tie the knots. "Badass hunter and occasional Winchester babysitter. Although I'd like to point out this didn't happen on my watch."

"How long's he been out?" Dean asked.

"Not long. You gonna tell me what the hell happened?"

"I don't know what the hell's goin' on. All I know is that some demon chose the wrong body to possess. We sending this thing back to hell or what?"

"You've done this before?" I asked as the boys prepared for what sounded like an exorcism. I didn't have much, or any, past experience with dealing with demons, so this was all new territory to me. I was kind of excited to see how it happened, though I wasn't going to admit it out loud.

"Once or twice," Bobby replied. "Your first rodeo?"

I nodded.

"Well sit back and enjoy the ride."

I took a step back to the side, happy to let them handle it. It was then that I noticed the symbols on the ceiling. It was a Devil's Trap—I'd seen them numerous times in books.

Dean stood in front of Sam and with an almighty whack, slapped him in the face. Sam instantly shook awake.

"Hey."

Sam looked up at the Devil's Trap, then lowered his gaze back down to stare at Dean. A smile rose on his lips. "Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach." Then he turned to me and smiled. "Hi again, Pup." I wanted to knock the smile right off his face.

Dean drew his attention back his way. "How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?"

"Oh, careful, now. Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."

"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much." He turned to pick up a bucket. No prizes for guessing what Bobby had loaded that up with. "You, on the other hand..."

He tossed the holy water onto Sam. He roared as it soaked his skin. I knew it wasn't hurting actual Sam, but I couldn't help the wince at hearing his screams.

"Feel like talking now?" Dean asked.

"Sam's still my meat puppet," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll make him bite off his tongue."

"No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby."

Dean gave the order and Bobby immediately started reading from a book in Latin. Dean stared at him with eyes I'd never seen so cold and dead before, while worry began to line Sam's face.

"See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up?" Dean said. "You're not getting Sam. You understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first."

All of a sudden, Sam stopped struggling. He threw his head back and laughed. All three of us froze. Even Bobby stopped reciting the spell that would exorcise the demon from him.

"You really think that's what this is about?" Sam said. "The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan."

Dean nodded at Bobby and he continued reading

"Oops," Sam said with gleeful calmness. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." He bowed his head and started speaking in Latin. We all looked at each other in confusion.

The fire behind Sam flared, the lights started to flicker, and the room shook violently.

"Erm, is this supposed to happen?" I asked as I moved closer to Dean and Bobby.

"What's going on, Bobby?" Dean asked. Guess that's a no to my question.

Bobby desperately searched around Sam. He noticed something and grabbed his arm. There was a burn mark there—the one Jo had spotted earlier. "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"

"What the hell do we do?" Dean asked.

"I don't know!" Bobby roared back.

Sam threw his head back and bellowed. A crack ran through the ceiling, breaking the trap. When he lowered his head, the room quietened. His eyes were back to soulless black pools.

"There. That's better."

He jerked his head to the left and Bobby went crashing into the wall. He turned his head my way, and before I could blink, I was soaring through the air. I crashed into something hard in the hallway and fell to the floor. I was vaguely aware of another thud before my vision started swimming. I really didn't need another hit to the head.

I didn't know how long I lay on the floor, but when I started to drag myself up, I caught on to what the demon was saying.

"But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless."

I finally pulled myself up to stand. Sam was leaning over Dean, repeatedly hitting him in the face. Blood poured down from Dean's nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bobby getting up. He headed over to the fireplace and drew out a hot poker.

"You couldn't save your Dad," the demon continued. "And deep down, you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

I grabbed a lamp standing on the desk by the doorway. Before Sam could land another blow, I swung it at his head, knocking him off balance.

"I'm no one's puppy." I threw the lamp to the floor and grabbed Sam's arm, stretching it out. Bobby ran over and placed the poker on it, instantly singeing the mark.

Sam reared back and let out a tortured scream as black smoke billowed out of him. It travelled across the room and escaped up the chimney. It felt like the air finally became breathable, the sense of dread flooding out of me.

Sam startled, rearing back to sit up against the cabinet. He grabbed his arm, wincing in pain as looked around the room in complete confusion.

Dean pulled himself up to sit. "Sammy?"

"Did I miss anything?" he asked.

Instead of responding, Dean reared back and punched him in the face, then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and Dean collapsed.

Sam sat there stunned, his hand cupping his cheek. "What happened?" he asked us.

Bobby and I looked at each other, neither knowing where to start.

Sam and Bobby helped to lift Dean onto the couch in the other room, then they began to tidy up. Sam was still walking around in a daze.

I sat on the edge of the couch cleaning up Dean's cuts while he was still out of it.

"Not so pretty now, huh?" I mumbled to myself as I wiped the blood from the cut on his head.

"So you're the pain in the ass, know-it-all, mouthy hunter."

"Excuse me?" I asked, feeling a little more than pissed off.

Bobby shrugged. "His words not mine. He's mentioned you once or twice."

I looked back down at his sleeping form. I pressed down a little harder than I should have as I continued to clean him up. "Asshole."

"So how was your first exorcism?" he asked.

"I'd give it a solid eight out of ten."

I expected him to walk away, but he remained standing there. "You been hunting long?"

My brows quirked in suspicion. I looked up at him. "Long enough. You?"

"More than long enough."

Again I thought that was the end of his questioning, but then he asked, "How did you say you got into huntin'?"

I shrugged. "I didn't. You done sizing me up?"

He smiled, knowing he'd been called out. "For now."

"Great. Glad we had this little chat." I got up to throw the bloody cotton away and end the interrogation. In fairness, Bobby didn't seem all that bad. I had a feeling he put on a tough front, but I could see he cared about these boys.

Not too much later, Dean woke up, groggy and pissed, but relieved his brother was back and safe—not that he let him know the latter. We gathered around Bobby's desk, each of us with our own ice bags—we really did look like a pathetic bunch—while Dean filled us all in. Apparently, the demon that had possessed Sam was called Meg. They'd sent her to Hell a while back and she'd been out for revenge. Sam's eyes widened the more Dean told him. I filled him in on what had gone down at the Sandpiper. By the end of it, he looked exhausted.

Bobby got up to answer a call in the other room.

Sam turned to me. "Rae…"

"Don't start, Sam." I knew what he was going to say; the puppy dog look on his face said it all.

"I'm really, really sorry for hurting you."

I put my ice bag down and turned to lock eyes with him. "It wasn't you."

"I was awake enough to know—"

I leaned closer towards him from where I was perched on the edge of the desk. "Hit me."

"What?"

I made a 'give it to me' gesture. "Hit me."

"Wha—no!"

"Exactly. It wasn't you. You wouldn't do something like that. Hell, you'd probably feel guilty if you accidentally stepped on my toe." The look on his face told me that's exactly how he'd feel. "There's nothing to apologise for." And that was the whole-hearted truth. Sam didn't have it in him to hurt anyone intentionally or otherwise.

He turned to look at his brother. "By the way, you really look like crap, Dean."

"She gets an apology while I get a 'you look like crap?' Well, right back atcha." He grumbled while holding the ice pack to the side of his face. To be fair to Sam, he really did look like crap.

Bobby walked back in, eyes marred with concern.

"What is it, Bobby?" Sam asked.

"You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?"

Both the guys fidgeted in their seats.

"Why do you ask?" Dean asked.

"Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that?"

"See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. Just like the one you thought Sam had murdered."

The demon had been taunting Dean, talking about a dead hunter. This couldn't be a coincidence. Had that demon actually done something like that while in Sam's body? If so… shit.

"No sir, never heard of the guy," Dean said firmly.

"Dean–" Sam whispered.

"Good," Bobby said "Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

Dean and Sam nodded, Sam more reluctantly than his brother. Then Dean caught my eye… and he knew that I knew.

"We better hit the road," he said standing up. "If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car."

"Here. Take these." Bobby handed the boys a small metal charm. I was taken aback when he handed one to me too.

"What are they?" I asked.

"Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya."

"That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks." It sounded like Dean was feeling better.

"You're welcome. You boys be careful now," he said before turning to me. "And you too."

"Thanks Bobby. Stay safe too." There was a frosty look coming from Bobby, who didn't return Sam's smile.

Dean tossed his ice bag back to Bobby before he watched us walk out. As we got outside, I went to follow Sam down the porch steps, before Dean's hand at my elbow pulled me to a stop.

"I know you've put two and two together about that hunter. Don't—"

Dean hadn't spoken with any heat in his words; they'd sounded more like a careful reminder, which was why I chose not to completely bite his head off. "Don't insult me by telling me not to say anything."

He simply nodded in response. At least I'd seemed to earn enough trust with him that he believed me. I knew how important his brother was to him, so he wouldn't have taken any risk or threat to him lightly.

We both walked down the steps and stood beside Sam.

"You okay?" Dean said, nudging Sam's shoulder. "Is that you in there?"

Sam looked off into the distance. "I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes."

Sam sounded like he was drained of all emotions, but inside, I knew he'd be anything but.

"That must have been awful," Dean said.

"That's not my point. I almost carved up Rae and Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot."

"Damn right he didn't," I said.

Dean smiled at my comment. "It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you."

"Yeah, this time. What about next time?"

"Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you... it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you."

The moment was important, heavy, which was why I was so surprised when Dean started chuckling.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, still finding something funny.

"Am I missing a joke here?" I asked.

"Dean, what?" Sam said a little more forcefully.

"Dude, you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week."

Sam frowned then cracked. They both started full on laughing.

"That's pretty naughty," Dean said.

I looked up to the heavens with a resounding sigh. "And that is my cue to leave. You're like a couple of teenagers." I turned away, walking to my truck, hiding my smile. "By the way, you two should really wear collars with little bells on and a tracker or something. You keep losing each other and its getting kind of ridiculous."

I heard them both laugh again.

"Hey, Rae?" Sam called out.

"Shut up, Sammy," I called back without turning around. I wasn't gonna give him another opportunity to apologise.

I got back in my truck and met Dean's eyes through the windshield. He nodded at me with a small smile. I nodded back. It seemed like I'd put myself in the position that when the Winchesters needed help, I'd come running. They strangest thing of all? I was happy to. This wouldn't be the last time they needed my help. Eventually this demon thing was going to blow up in their faces. And it appeared as if I'd be standing by their side when it did.

I guessed that made me an idiot.