Two weeks later, they ended up in Chicago investigating the death of a girl who had been ripped limb from limb by a killer that managed to get in and out of the apartment without leaving any trace behind- no weapons, no prints, nothing. "I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found the article, I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said. The EMF meter in Dean's hand started beeping frantically the second he finished talking. "I think I agree with you," he said.

"Daddy, I hungy," Mack whined. She'd protested the hiking backpack and so she was standing back by the door watching her father and uncle work. "We'll get food in a minute, bug," he told her. "Just as soon as me and Uncle Sammy finish working." She gave a huff, sitting down on the floor and playing with her rabbit's ears. "So, you talked to the cops?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean smirked over at his brother. "I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah? What'd you find out?" Dean's voice turned dreamy as he answered. "Well, she's a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean- wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo-"

"Dean!"

Dean jumped, looking over at his brother, who cast a pointed look at Mack before glaring at him. "What? Yeah," Dean relented. "Uh, nothing we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers." Sam raised an eyebrow curiously. "Hm?"

"Meredith's heart was missing," Dean said. Both brothers glanced at Mack again, but she appeared to be distracted. "Her heart?" Sam questioned quieter. "Yeah. Her heart," Dean hissed back. "So, what do you think did it to her?" Dean shrugged. "Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was- werewolf?" Sam shook his head. "No, no werewolf, the lunar cycle's not right. Plus, if it was a creature, it would've left some sort of trace. It's probably a spirit."

Dean studied the blood spattered across the carpet, frowning. "See if you can find any masking tape around," he said. When they tracked down some tape, Dean used it to connect the pools of blood. When he finished, it created a symbol with an eye shaped circle in the middle with two curved spikes circling it from either end. "Ever seen that symbol before?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head. "Never."

"Me neither."

They stopped at the bar where Meredith worked to get Mack some food and see if they could get any more intel that could help them with the case. Asking around proved pretty fruitless, however. Meredith was liked by everybody she came across. There had been one previous victim that had died in the exact same way, but there were no obvious connections between him and Meredith that they could find. And the research Sam had conducted on the symbol so far hadn't come up with anything, either.

"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's number," Dean smirked. Sam had become distracted by something on the other side of the room. Dean looked around, but was unable to spot what had caught Sam's attention. "What?" he asked. Sam got up, walking away. "Sam?" Dean called, but was ignored. The younger Winchester headed over to another table, stopping and talking to a young woman with a short blonde pixie cut and pretty features.

"Ah done," Mack announced, pushing her bowl of macaroni and cheese away. "Nice job. Come on, bug." Dean picked her up, heading over to Sam and the blonde woman. "Oh, I did," she said in response to something Sam said. "I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar." Sam furrowed his brow. "Who?" The young woman dismissed him. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while." Dean cleared his throat behind Sam, but was ignored.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked. "No, Massachusetts- Andover," the young woman informed him. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?" Sam gave a short laugh, which came out more forced than it probably should have. "Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." She smiled, "Well, I'm glad you were wrong." Sam nodded and Dean cleared his throat again, louder than before. "Dude, cover your mouth," the young woman snapped.

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg," Sam told her. "This is, uh- this is my brother Dean and his daughter Mckinley." Meg looked shocked as she took in Dean and the toddler on his hip. "This is Dean?" she asked. The elder Winchester gave her his most flirtatious smile. "Yeah," Sam nodded. "So, you've heard of me?" Dean asked. "Oh, yeah. I've heard of you," Meg growled angrily. "Nice- the way you treat your brother like luggage." Dean's smile fell, replaced by a look of confusion. "Sorry?"

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green Earth." Sam stepped further in front of Dean to put space between him and Meg, addressing her. "Meg, it's alright." The three of them looked around quietly and Dean let out a low whistle. Mack gave a big yawn, nuzzling into his side. "Okay, awkward. I'm gonna go over there now," Dean said, casting a puzzled look at Sam before walking away. He headed out to the Impala, climbing into the back with Mack to wait for Sam.

"Daddy?" she asked sleepily. "What, bug?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair. "Who that?" she asked. "Who was that?" he repeated the question. "Yeah," she nodded against his chest. "I don't know, baby. One of Uncle Sammy's friends." She yawned again, nuzzling closer to him in his arms. "I go seep now?" she asked. "Yeah, bug. You can go to sleep now."

"Otay," she whispered through another yawn, closing her eyes. Dean smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she succumbed to her exhaustion. As gently as he could, he transferred her over to her car seat and strapped her in just as Sam exited the bar and headed over. As soon as Mack was strapped in, he climbed out to confront his brother. "Who the hell was she?"

"I don't really know," Sam shrugged. "I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird." Dean frowned. "And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, are you bitchin' about me to some chick?" Sam sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen-" Dean wasn't listening, though. "Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?" Sam tried again. "What?" Dean snapped. "I think there's somethin' strange going on here, Dean." Dean scoffed. "Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me." Sam rolled his eyes. "No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."

"Why do you say that?"

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam pointed out. Dean shrugged. "I don't know, random coincidence. It happens." Sam scoffed that time. "Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl I can't quite put my finger on." Dean smirked.

"Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Sam rolled his eyes, laughing as Dean continued. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" Dean pointed to his head and grinned. Sam became serious again. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor. I'll drop you and Kinley at the motel."

"And then what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna watch Meg," Sam answered. Dean laughed, "Yeah, you are." Sam gave a huff of frustration. "I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry." Dean was still laughing. "Alright, you little pervert," he said. "Dude," Sam groaned. "Okay, okay." Dean got into the passenger seat, tossing Sam the keys. Sam dropped both him and Mack off and then took off again.

After getting Mack situated in his bed, Dean sat down at the table to complete the tasks Sam had given him. He called him a few hours later. "Hey," Sam greeted him. "Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" Dean asked. "No." Dean waited quietly until Sam relented. "Yes." Dean snorted. "You've got a funny way of showin' your affection."

"Did you find anything on her or what?"

"Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" Sam ignored the comment, pressing on to the other issue. "What about the symbol? Any luck?" Dean rolled his eyes, pushing aside the laptop and pulling over his research. "Yeah, that I did have some luck with. It's, uh- turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like thousands of years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva."

"What's a Daeva?" Sam asked. "It translates to 'demon of darkness'. Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes- kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls," Dean informed him. "How'd you figure that out?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasin' around here." Sam snorted. "Oh, yeah? Name the last book you read. And the kiddy ones you read to Kinley don't count." Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. "No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, alright?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway, here's the thing- these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured."

"So, someone's controlling it?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," Dean said. "And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." He got distracted briefly as Mack made a noise in her sleep. "So, what do they look like?" Sam asked. "Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me."

"No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though-" Sam hung up on him. "Sam? Are you-?" Dean hung up as well, tossing his phone down. He sighed, running a hand over his face as he looked over at Mack again. She was clutching her rabbit- which she had recently named 'Skittles' after her favorite candy- tightly as she slept. He loved that she was talking more as her birthday approached. However, he wished she could have a more normal childhood instead of getting dragged along on cases like this.

He stretched, rolling his neck and shoulders before hunkering down to do some more research into the victims the Daeva attacked to try and figure out why the demons went after them. When Sam returned to the motel room a short while later, the brothers spoke in unison as they made eye contact with each other.

"Dude, I gotta talk to you."

Sam went first, explaining to Dean what he had seen when he followed Meg to an abandoned building. "So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean asked. "Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing," Sam confirmed, nodding. "So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl," Dean chuckled, earning an eye roll from Sam. "And what's the deal with the bowl again?"

"She was talking into it," Sam explained. "The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone." Dean frowned. "With who? The Daeva?" Sam shook his head. "No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse."

Dean thought for a moment, glancing back at the research he'd been doing and what he'd found, realizing it could be connected to what Sam was saying. "Holy crap," he breathed. "What?" He looked up at Sam. "What I was gonna tell you earlier- I pulled a little favor with my-" he cleared his throat, "friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims- we missed something the first time."

"What?" Sam asked again, coming over to look at the records. "The first victim, the old man- he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born." Dean pointed to a spot on the page in front of him. "Lawrence, Kansas," Sam read aloud. "Mmhm," Dean nodded, picking up Meredith's file. "Meredith, the second victim- turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from?" He showed the second file to Sam- her birth place was also listed as Lawrence. Sam sank into the chair across from Dean at the table. "Holy crap," he breathed.

"Yeah."

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started," Sam pointed out. "So, you think Meg is tied up with the demon?" Dean nodded. "I think it's a definite possibility." It was Sam's turn to frown. "But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?" Dean shrugged. "Beats me. But I say we trash the black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly interrogation."

"And we're bringing Kinley with us?"

They both looked over at the toddler still sleeping soundly on Dean's bed. "Don't really have another choice," Dean sighed. "We gotta take care of this, and I can't leave her alone." Sam hummed, a contemplative look on his face. "We should change our tactic. We shouldn't tip Meg off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her. Plus, if we just keep an eye out initially, it could potentially be safer with Kinley there."

Dean nodded in agreement. "I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone."

While Dean called John and left a voicemail, Sam headed down to the car to fill their duffel bags with supplies from the arsenal. "Jesus, what'd you get?" Dean asked him when he returned. Sam chuckled. "I ransacked the trunk. Holy water, every weapon I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

Dean nodded, and they began loading their guns silently. "Big night," he commented. "Yeah," Sam nodded. "You nervous?" Dean shook his head. "No. Why, are you?" Sam also shook his head. "No. No way." They fell silent again. "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?" Sam asked. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, alright?"

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school- be a person again." Dean looked up at his brother, blinking. "You wanna go back to school?" he asked. "Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," Sam nodded. "Huh," Dean grunted, going back to loading his gun. "Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?"

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over," Dean said, pausing his work once more. "There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt." Sam frowned. "But there's gotta be somethin' that you want for yourself-" Sam pressed. "Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean snapped, getting to his feet and walking over to the dresser. "Dude, what's your problem?"

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh?" Dean asked, turning back to face Sam. "I mean, why do you think I came and got you from Stanford in the first place?"

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, but it's more than that, man," Dean sighed. He turned and paced back to the dresser once more, before facing Sam again. "You and me and Dad- I mean, I want us... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again." Sam let out a huff. "Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. I mean, you have a kid to think about now." Dean swallowed, looking over at his daughter. "You seriously telling me you don't want a better life for her when this is over?"

Sam had a point. Dean had just been thinking about how he wished he could give Mack a normal childhood. But he also wanted Sam and their father to be a part of that. It had been so hard saying goodbye to Sam the first time he left for school. He didn't want to have to go through that again. "Besides, I don't want it to be like before," Sam continued when Dean didn't immediately reply. "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

Mack was in the hiking backpack on Dean's back as he and Sam scaled the elevator shaft to the top room where Meg and the altar were set up. Sam squeezed through the space between the elevator gate and the wall first. Dean took the backpack off, taking Mack out and handing her to Sam before squeezing the backpack sideways through the crack and getting through himself. Sam finished getting Mack situated back in the backpack, but Dean didn't put it back on right away.

Meg was speaking a foreign language as she stood in front of the altar on the other side of the room. The Winchesters were hiding behind some crates, Sam and Dean both with their guns out. "Guys," Meg spoke, and the brothers exchanged a stunned look. "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well, that didn't work out like I planned," Dean hissed. Meg turned around to face them, staying by the altar. "Why don't you come out?" she suggested. Sam and Dean moved out from behind the crate. Dean left Mack where she was, hidden out of Meg's view, in hopes that that would keep his daughter out of harm's way. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship," Meg purred.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam scoffed. "So, where's your little Daeva friend?" Dean asked. "Around. You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good." He smirked, "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon." Sam chimed in, "So, who is it, Meg? Who are you waiting for?"

"You."

The Daeva's shadow formed on the wall before they could react, knocking Sam to the ground and throwing Dean back into the crates. It left a claw-like scratch on Sam's face. Dean came to first, both him and Sam tied to two separate posts. His heart dropped in his chest when he saw Meg sitting in a chair in front of Sam, Mack sitting on her lap. "Oh, look," Meg smirked. "Daddy's awake."

Mack squirmed on her lap, trying to get away and over to her father. "Daddy," she whimpered. "Let her go," Dean growled, tugging at the ropes fastened around his wrists. "Oh, but where's the fun in that?" Meg chuckled. Sam was finally waking up as well, quickly assessing the situation. "Hey, Sam?" Dean addressed his brother, still tugging at his restraints to get to Meg and his daughter. "Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend... is a bitch."

"You should really watch your language around your kid," Meg told him tauntingly. "Impressionable mind, and all that." Dean clenched his jaw as Mack whimpered again, trying to get out of Meg's grasp some more, but Meg just tightened her hold on the child. "This, the whole thing, was a trap," Sam said, changing the subject. "Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Meg laughed. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?" he asked. "It doesn't mean anything," Meg informed him. "It was just to draw you in, that's all."

"Unca 'Ammy," Mack whimpered, trying to get to him next, since she hadn't had any luck getting to Dean. "Hush, little one. The grownups are talking," Meg told her, putting a finger to Mack's lips. Dean squirmed more, tugging as hard as he could against his restraints. "You killed those two people for nothin'," Sam snarled, getting the conversation back on track. "Baby, I've killed a lot more, for a lot less," Meg purred.

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller Time," Dean smiled, despite the fact his heart was still trying to escape his chest having his daughter in the clutches of the bad guy. "But why don't you kill us already?" Meg's smirk widened. "Not very quick on the uptake are we?" She leaned forward in her chair. "This trap isn't for you." Dean blinked, puzzled. After thinking for a second, Sam seemed to realize what she meant. "Dad. It's a trap for Dad," he stated. Dean's eyes widened as he looked from his brother back at Meg, who smiled at him.

"Oh, sweetheart- you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good." Meg hummed, standing up and strapping Mack back into the hiking backpack which had been moved beside her chair. "He is pretty good. I'll give you that," she said, finishing strapping Mack in and walking over to Dean, straddling his legs. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?"

"You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody- nice and slow and messy," Meg smirked. "Well, I got news for ya," Dean said. "It's gonna take a lot more than some... shadow to kill him." She chuckled. "Oh, the Daeva's are in the room here- they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see."

"Why you doin' this, Meg?" Sam asked. "What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?" She looked over in his direction, the confident smirk she'd been wearing the entire conversation still on her face. "I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do- loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy- and Jess."

"Go to hell."

"Baby, I'm already there." Her smile widened, and she climbed off Dean's lap, sliding over to Sam. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty," she purred, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me- changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"

"Get a room, you two," Dean called over, but was ignored. "I didn't mind," Meg continued, voice low as she spoke in Sam's ear. "I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun." She began kissing his neck. "You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now," Sam quipped. Meg pulled back briefly to smile at him before going back to kissing him. However, a noise on Dean's side of the room made her stop.

She rose, walking over behind his post, finding a knife in Dean's hand. She took it away, tossing it into the corner. When she swung around to the other side of the post and grinned at him, he chuckled guiltily. Meg slid back over to Sam. "Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" she asked. "No. No," Sam shook his head. "That's because I have a knife of my own."

Meg looked at him, confused, as he broke free of his ropes and grabbed Meg's shoulders, knocking their heads together. She fell to the floor and he groaned in pain. "Sam! Get the altar!" Dean cried. Sam headed over to the altar, overturning it. The Daevas reappeared, grabbing Meg. They dragged her across the floor and she crashed through the window, falling down to the ground below. Sam grabbed his knife, cutting Dean free. The father immediately rushed over and unstrapped Mack from the backpack, clutching her close to his body.

He and Sam headed over, peering out the broken window at Meg's mangled body on the sidewalk. Dean made sure to keep a hand against Mack's head, keeping her face buried in his neck so she wouldn't see. "So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," Sam said. "Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed. "Hey, Sam?" Sam tore his gaze from Meg's body to look over at him. "Hm?" he asked. "Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?" Dean smiled, walking away.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked Sam. He was carrying Mack while Sam held the duffel full of weapons. "I said it before, I'll say it again- better safe than sorry," Sam replied. Keeping a firm grip on Mack, Dean used his free hand to unlock their door and led the way into the motel room. A silhouette of a man was standing by the window, his back to them. "Hey!" Dean called out. Sam turned on the light and the man turned to face them. Sam's eyes widened and Dean's breath hitched in his throat- it was John.

"Dad?" Dean breathed. "Hey, boys," John greeted them. Dean just stood there, frozen, clutching his daughter and staring at his father. "Hi, Sam," John greeted his younger son, not giving his elder son a second glance. "Hey, Dad," Sam replied softly. Sam slowly lowered the duffel from his shoulder onto the floor. "Dad, it was a trap," Dean finally found his voice. "I didn't know, I'm sorry." John nodded, no hint of emotion on his face as he looked at Dean. "It's alright. I thought it might've been."

That statement was like a punch to his gut, but Dean had long ago mastered the art of not showing his true feelings around his father. Any crack in his shell earned him a punishment- most of the time verbal, though God knew John Winchester wasn't afraid to get physical, even as Dean grew older. "Were you there?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," both he and Sam spoke in unison. John nodded. "Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before." Sam furrowed his brow. "The demon has?" he asked. "It knows I'm close," John confirmed. "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to Hell- actually kill it." Dean swallowed. "How?" he asked. John smiled, and even though it wasn't for him, Dean still basked in seeing that expression on his father's face, pointed in his direction. And he hated himself for it. "I'm workin' on that," John answered.

"Let us come with you. We'll help," Sam said. Dean shot his brother a warning look, but it was ignored. "No, Sam," John shook his head. "Not yet. Just try and understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt." A pang ran through Dean's chest. John never once expressed the desire to keep him safe from harm. Hell, there had been countless times before he went missing that his dad had actually used him as bait for the monsters they were hunting- and a lot of the time, he didn't tell Dean he was the bait until he'd already left Dean behind.

The worst part- it happened more after Andrea had left Mack with him.

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," Sam said. Again, a pang ran through Dean's chest. Sam obviously hadn't realized like he had that John didn't really care about Dean- only about him. "Of course I do," John smiled a little, eyes trained on Sam. "I'm your father." He paused, eyes flickering to the small child in Dean's arms briefly before refocusing on Sam. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time," John smiled. "Too long," Sam agreed. They embraced, both with tears in their eyes. Dean averted his gaze, chest tight. When the pair pulled apart, the Daevas suddenly appeared in the room, attacking John. He was thrown into a set of cabinets and fell to the ground. Sam was also attacked, falling. "No!" Dean cried. He turned, shielding Mack with his body as the demons attacked him next.

All three Winchesters cried out as the demons continued to claw and tear at them. Mack was the only one that hadn't been harmed thanks to her father. Sam crawled across the floor to the duffel of weapons he'd brought up, grabbing a flare out. "Shut your eyes!" he yelled. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!" He lit the flare, and the room was instantly filled with smoke and bright light. The demons vanished and the Winchesters felt their way out of the room, coughing and sputtering.

"Dad!" Sam called. "Over here!" John called back. Dean carried his daughter and the weapon bag while Sam helped John to his feet, aiding him out of the room. They made their way down to the alley where John's truck was parked near the Impala. Dean froze up at the sight of that truck. Something told him that truck was dangerous, though logically that didn't make any sense. He loaded Mack into her car seat in the back of the Impala, putting the duffel bag on the seat beside her.

"Alright, come on. We don't have much time," Sam said. "As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back." Dean shut the back door of the Impala, turning back to face his father and brother. "Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait," he protested, then looked over at their father. "Dad, you can't come with us."

"What? What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked. "You boys- you're beat to hell," John noted, observing both Sam and Dean's injuries. "We'll be alright," Dean told him- the response was almost automatic. "You still have her around?" John snapped at him, eyes going to the Impala where Dean had just put Mack. "Yeah, Dad. I still have my daughter around," he answered, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. John at least no longer referred to Mack as 'that thing' any more, but he and Dean were still having the same old argument.

"Dean, we should stick together," Sam argued, forcing Dean and John to put a pin in their own argument for the time being. "We'll go after those demons-"

"Sam!" Dean snapped, cutting him off. "Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He- he's stronger without us around." Especially without himself around, though he wasn't about to say that part out loud. "Dad- no," Sam protested again, putting his hand on John's shoulder. Dean watched the pair sadly.

"After everything- after all the time we spent lookin' for you- please," Sam begged. "I gotta be a part of this fight." John looked at Sam with an expression he'd never used with Dean- one filled with sadness and regret. "Sammy, this fight is just starting," he replied. "And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've gotta trust me, son." Sam shook his head no as John continued. "Okay, you've gotta let me go." All three men had tears in their eyes, and Sam looked down at his hand on John's shoulder. He patted it once, letting go and taking a step back.

John headed over to his truck without giving Dean another glance, then turned back briefly. "Be careful, boys." He climbed into his truck, driving away. "Come on," Dean told Sam. They got in the Impala, backing out of the alley and driving out of town in the opposite direction John's truck had gone.