Title: The Unrecognised Hero
Rating: Teen
Word Count: ~13,000
Warnings: None

Summary: Teenage Sam and Dean have to handle a hunt in their father's absence. Outside POV.

Author's Notes: Written for chiiyo86 for the 2014 summergen challenge.

She ran, breath coming fast in a stilted, staccato rhythm. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, beating so fast it was painful. There was a sickening crack behind her, and the wind whipped her long hair around her face as a terrifying whistling sound pierced the air, but she didn't dare look back, intent on getting as far away from it as possible. She had no idea what it was or how she had ended up in this situation, but what she did know was that her life was in danger right now and she had to run.

It was almost pitch black; there were no streetlights out here, not this far out of town, out in the woods. That was partly what had drawn her to the remote, peaceful location in the first place, but right now she was regretting her decision to live out here alone, in the middle of the woods a couple out of miles out of town.

Who knew what could be living out here… Foxes? Bears? Something else? Because whatever was chasing her right now… well, she was pretty sure it wasn't any kind of fox or bear. Not that she'd had much chance to get a look at it, what with all the screaming and the running, but she was pretty sure that bears didn't screech or whistle or, you know, look human.

Which this thing did… kind of. At least, the tiny glimpse she'd managed to get of it before had.

She knew she shouldn't do it, especially not when she was running through a forest, legs pounding on the uneven ground, arms pumping back and forth in an effort to gain more speed, but when the sounds behind her seem to cease, she couldn't help it. She looked behind her. And promptly tripped over a tree root, tumbling to the ground. Her knees hit first, before she had a chance to break her fall with her hands, and the breath rushed out of her with a hefty 'oof', pain rushing through her ankle.

"Shit," she muttered frantically.

The movement behind her started up again, seemingly even closer than before, and a feeling of both fear and dread washed over her as she felt herself being pulled off the ground by some kind of invisible force. She felt sweat beading on her forehead, as she tensed in preparation for whatever horror was coming.

This was it; she was about to die.

Five days earlier

"All right, all right… settle down, guys." Jenny motioned for her senior class to take their seats. "I haven't got all day."

"Hey, Miss Bradley, you like parties?" piped up Jake, a lanky kid with shoulder-length hair who, despite his high grades, was known more for his ability to sleep in class than for actually doing his work. "Cos there's this big party at The Warehouse Friday night and maybe you could—"

"Jake," Jenny cut him off with a pointed look at the chair beside him. "Take your seat."

Jake was basically a good kid, but he could occasionally get carried away with his chatter, especially when it involved trying to get her to socialise with the students. She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised that she got invites to parties, especially from the senior classes, considering that she was young, only twenty-six and in her second year of teaching high school, having graduated from Brown with a degree in physics four years ago, followed by a masters in education, and then her first teaching job here at Middleton High in Charlottesville, Virginia right after that. Add to that the fact that she was slim and blonde and was known for her friendly teaching style, and she guessed the older kids probably tried to see her as more of a peer than an authority figure. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but it did mean she had to make sure she exercised that authority when it was required. Which it was right now.

It took a couple of minutes, and another sharp instruction from her, for them all to sit down, but the classroom soon grew quiet and seats were finally taken… all except one. Jenny glanced quickly at the empty seat next to Sarah Jacobson at the back of the room, pursing her lips slightly, before calling attention to the front of the room.

"Okay, class, today we're going back to basics with trajectories and equations of motion. Please open your textbooks to page 36 and—"

The classroom door opened suddenly and her one missing pupil strode in, seemingly unaware that he was in any way late or disturbing the class as he walked to the back of the room and slid into the empty seat beside Sarah, immediately slouching down in the chair and looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Winchester," she said pointedly. "I hope we haven't inconvenienced you too much this morning."

His features scrunched into a scowl for a moment, before he plastered on a cheerful smile and retorted, "Oh, not at all, Miss Bradley. It's a pleasure."

"Right." She nodded, a hint of sarcasm in her tone as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. "If you could get your book out and open it to page 36, that would be much appreciated."

"Sure thing, ma'am." He flashed her a smile and motioned to the book he'd been holding as he entered the room, dropping it onto the desk and flicking through to the correct page, before slouching back in the chair again.

Jenny eyed him warily for a moment, before turning to the rest of the class and beginning the lesson. After talking them through the five equations of motion and the different scenarios in which it would be appropriate to use each one, she set the class some problems to work through and took a seat at her desk.

The classroom was quiet, only a few murmurings amongst the students as they tried to answer the questions, and Jenny took the opportunity to sit back and observe them. Glancing around the room, her gaze landed on Dean, who still looked as bored as anything, barely even glancing at the book in front of him, instead his attention focused on the view outside the window. She wondered what was so fascinating about it, considering all you could see from the window was a red brick wall and part of an oak tree.

Every now and then, Sarah would nudge him, giving him a smile as she nodded to the book in front of him, and in response, he would shrug, look at the book for a moment, jot something down in his notebook and then go right back to staring out of the window again.

To be honest, Jenny didn't quite know what to think of Dean. He'd only been in her class for a couple of weeks, having transferred here with his brother last month, and in all that time, she still had yet to figure out how on Earth he had ended up in her physics class, known for being pretty tough, when he didn't ever seem to actually do any work. He'd also missed the last two homework assignments and as she had a three strikes policy, he was in danger of failing. However, when she'd mentioned this to him earlier in the week, he'd just shrugged and seemed completely unfazed by the prospect.

His brother, Sam, on the other hand, was pretty much a model student. He was in her freshman class and so far had been a pleasure to teach. He was enthusiastic and hard-working, always asking questions and occasionally even mentioning more advanced topics and concepts that weren't even on the ninth grade curriculum. If her conversations with his other teachers were any indication, he was obviously striving to be a straight-A student across the board. It was interesting to compare her colleagues' opinions of teaching Sam compared to Dean. One brother was a teacher's dream, the other, their nightmare.

On her way home from the school later that afternoon, Jenny stopped by the small public library to return a couple of books and looked around, sidling surreptitiously over to the romance section, a little wary of being caught there, but at the same time, reprimanding herself for the feeling; after all, there was nothing wrong with being a romance novel fan. Sometimes it was nice to lose yourself in a book like that and escape from the real world. As she was browsing through the modern fiction section, searching for the new release from her favourite author, a familiar-sounding voice caught her attention. She frowned, not expecting to hear that particular voice in a library of all places, and peered around the end of the aisle to take a look.

Sure enough, Dean Winchester was sitting at one of the tables, facing her, a few yards away, books strewn out across the tabletop. His brother was sitting beside him, head bent over a book, writing something in his notepad, focused entirely on the text in front of him.

"Dude, are you done yet?" Dean asked, looked over at Sam with an impatient expression. "I need some help here."

Jenny frowned; surely Dean wasn't asking his little brother for help with his schoolwork, was he? She knew Sam was smart for his age, but seriously?

Sam gave Dean a withering look. "Dean, I have homework, remember? You know, for school? It's important."

"No, this is important," countered Dean, pointing to the book in his hand. "This is our homework, remember?"

"Since when? Dad's not even here." Sam rolled his eyes. "And he didn't even ask us to do this stuff."

"What, I can't use my own initiative now?" Dean looked annoyed.

Sam sighed. "You know we're not supposed to be hunting on our own."

"Dude, I'm 18, I think I can handle this without him." Dean huffed in frustration. Jenny suppressed a smile at the disgruntled look on his face. "What, you wanna wait for him until god knows when and allow other people to get hurt?" He looked down at the book with a determined expression. "No, I'm not gonna let that happen if there's a chance I can stop it." He pointed to the book he was holding. "We're hunting this thing ourselves."

Jenny's eyes widened at that. People getting hurt? Hunting what thing? What was he talking about?

The two boys sat in silence for a few moments, Dean seemingly cross-referencing something between books as he took some notes, while Sam, who had been writing quickly, exhaled in frustration and put his pencil down.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Nah." Sam made a face at the notebook in front of him. "Just…"

Dean sighed, resting his hand on the book in front of him and looking at Sam. "Look, if you need help, just ask, okay?"

"Wouldn't want to tear you away from your 'important' research," Sam retorted sarcastically, folding his arms and kicking at the table leg in frustration.

"Dude, come on." Dean rolled his eyes. "What's the problem?"

"Question four," Sam admitted reluctantly. "I don't get it."

"Lemme see." He reached for Sam's textbook, scanning the page.

Jenny straightened when she saw the book cover and realised Sam was doing the homework she had set his class that morning. Unlike Dean, it seemed, who was apparently going to do anything else but his physics homework.

"Okay, so it's giving you the speed of the car here, 15 metres-per-second," Dean pointed to the page, "and it has a constant acceleration of 5 metres-per-second-squared, so you need to use those two numbers to work out the time that it has been travelling for." He looked up from the textbook and over to Sam. "So, what's the equation you've been given for working out acceleration?"

"Um…" Sam searched through his class notes and tapped a finger at something on the page. "Acceleration equals velocity divided by time."

"Right." Dean nodded. "Then there you go."

Sam frowned. "But this equation just tells me what the acceleration is, and I already know that. But I don't have one for working out the time."

"Yeah, you do." Dean said encouragingly, his voice softer now. "It's right here in front of you. You know the acceleration, and the velocity, but not the time. So, you need to rearrange the equation so that you get it in terms of time. You know, so that T is on one side of the equals sign, and A and V are on the other."

"Okay." Sam still looked confused, his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up. "But how do I do that?"

"Here, I'll show you." Dean reached for a blank piece of paper and Sam's pencil and started scribbling. "See, here you have A=V/T. Now if you multiply both sides by T, you get A x T= (V x T) /T, but T/T = 1. So it cancels out and gives yo = V. Make sense?"

He looked to Sam, who nodded, albeit slightly hesitantly.

"Then if you divide both sides by A, you get T = V/A. And you already know what V and A are, so you can calculate T. Just stick the numbers in."

"Oh, okay. I get it now." Sam nodded in understanding, then smiled at his brother. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean just shrugged, looking a little self-conscious, and ruffled Sam's hair before turning back to the book he had been reading. "No problem, kiddo."

Jenny watched the exchange with her mouth hanging open. Since when did Dean even know how to manipulate equations, let alone have the ability to teach someone else how to do it? The boy sitting a few yards from her now, helping his kid brother with his physics homework, was so far removed from the cocky, uninterested teenager she knew from her class that she almost couldn't believe he was the same person.

She continued to observe them as Sam worked through the rest of his homework problems, occasionally looking to Dean for help when he got stuck. Meanwhile, Dean continued to read through the books strewn across the table, occasionally writing down some notes, and while he would act inconvenienced every time Sam asked him a question, Jenny noticed that he would always answer patiently and give his brother his full attention until Sam understood the question he was trying to solve.

After a while though, Dean began to get fidgety and eventually turned to Sam.

"Hey, dork, you done yet? I could still use some help with this. You know you're better at Latin than me."

Latin? wondered Jenny. He knows Latin too? Who is this kid and what has he done with Dean Winchester?

"Give me a minute, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes as he scribbled on his notepad. "Some of us actually care about school, you know."

Dean sighed, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then his gaze moved in her direction and Jenny quickly ducked out of sight. Realising that she was blatantly eavesdropping and probably shouldn't be, she reached for the book she'd been looking for and slipped away.

As she headed for the checkout desk, she heard Dean's voice proclaim, "You are such a dork."

"Jerk," claimed Sam.

"Bitch."

"Shut up, Dean."

She couldn't help but smile at the playful banter as she left the library, but as she headed home, her mind was reeling from what she'd just witnessed. It seemed there was much more to Dean Winchester that she'd originally thought… although she couldn't quite figure out what exactly that was.

The staff room was busy when Jenny arrived the next morning, her colleagues scattered about the room, chatting casually and drinking coffee ahead of the school day, most likely trying to prolong the inevitable. She greeted a couple of them with cheery smiles as she walked past, before joining David and Catherine, who were English and History teachers, respectively.

"Morning, Jen. How's things?"

"Good thanks, Cathy," Jenny greeted her best friend, smiling warmly. "You?"

"Can't complain," replied her friend, "Although that may change after first period." At Jenny's inquisitive look, she elaborated. "I have the senior class this morning. On the whole, they're good kids, it's just that a couple of them… well, they're kind of hard work."

"Lemme guess: Dean Winchester's in your class?" asked David, knowingly. When Cathy nodded, with a raise of her eyebrows, he continued, "Yeah, he's a handful, that one."

"How so?" asked Jenny, her interests piqued over the kid who, after last night, was now even more of a puzzle to her than ever. "I mean he's in my class too, but other than a general lack of interest, he's not been all that bad… although I still haven't seen much evidence of his actual ability in the class."

"Really?" was David's response. "He's a nightmare with me. Won't ever listen, fidgets all the way through class, never writes anything down and spends half the time either flirting with Christine Anders or making smart-ass comments like he's trying to be funny."

"Yeah, he can be a pain most of the time," added Cathy. "Although, it's strange because it's like he never pays attention to anything, but then suddenly out of nowhere, he'll pipe up with some really obscure historical fact… something that's not even on the syllabus. I don't even know where he gets it from."

As Jenny absorbed this new information, attempting in her mind to create a fuller picture of who Dean really was, Maisie, one of the Biology teachers hurried up to them with a rumpled newspaper.

"Hey, have you seen the news this morning?" She pointed to the story on the front page. "There's been another disappearance; another woman, blonde, mid-twenties… just like the other two. Went missing last night, the police think she was abducted from the park near the woods around sunset."

"Oh, geez," said David, glancing over the story. "What the hell is going on in this town?"

"Who knows?" Jenny said. "It's terrible. I didn't think this kind of thing ever happened here, I'd heard that this was supposed to be a safe town."

"Yeah, it is… usually."

The bell rang just then, interrupting their conversation, and as Jenny made her way over to the science classrooms for her first class, she couldn't help but cast her mind back to the discussion she'd overheard in the library yesterday. Sam and Dean had been talking about hunting and people getting hurt… and translating Latin apparently. Surely, that didn't have anything do to with these disappearances, did it?

Later that morning, her senior class were hard at work on a pop quiz she'd set them that period. Well, most of the class were working hard. Dean, on the other hand, just looked bored, his ankle tapping out a rhythm against his chair leg, the pencil in his hand playing out the same beat against the test paper.

Jenny frowned; when she'd seen him writing at the beginning of the test, head bent over the paper, she'd had a small amount of hope that he might actually do some work today. Considering what she'd overheard in the library yesterday, she was beginning to wonder if his devil-may-care attitude was just a cover, a barrier he put up to shield his real self. After all, she'd seen Dean very correctly explain equation manipulation to his little brother just last night, yet he gave the impression of not caring about school or being bothered to learn anything at all. Her hopes were dashed however, when Dean sat up less than 10 minutes later, leaned back in the chair and adopted his usual casual stance, barely looking at the paper again.

Shaking her head in acceptance that she'd been wrong, she checked her watch. "Okay, class, you have two minutes left. Make sure your names are at the top of each sheet before I collect your papers."

There was a soft groan from a handful of the kids and a few of them started scribbling faster, frantically trying to finish their answers. Jenny stole another glance towards Dean, only to find him focused on Sarah Jacobson beside him. He had an appreciative smile on his face as he watched her work, one that didn't even falter when she looked up and caught him staring. Instead, the smile widened and in response, Sarah's lips twitched and she looked away again, ducking her head coyly, which only caused Dean to grin widely. Jenny bit her lip in an attempt not to smile herself; with the amount of time he spent flirting with girls, most of whom seemed to fall hook, line and sinker for his charms, Dean was definitely going to be a ladies man when he was older. Just a shame about the lack of time and attention he paid to his schoolwork.

She stood up, calling time on the pop quiz and moved around the room, collecting the papers. When she got to Dean, he just held out his test, eyes focused on the front of the classroom, barely acknowledging her. She frowned slightly but took it and moved on to Sarah, who handed her paper over with an open smile. However, as Jenny was placing Sarah's test on the pile, her eyes caught sight of Dean's beneath it and her eyes widened. She glanced back at the teenager in surprise. He wasn't paying any attention to her, of course, his focus back on Sarah again now, and Jenny forced herself to continue gathering the papers.

The bell rang just as she was returning to her desk and the class began to file out of the room, but she called out to Dean when he started to move past her.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?"

He looked annoyed for a moment, before his expression flattened out and he shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure thing, Miss Bradley."

He nodded to Sarah, who had been walking with him, and she left the room with the other students. Dean turned to stand before her, hands shoved in his pockets, head slightly lowered, as he waited expectantly. She lifted his test paper from the pile and handed it to him.

"Dean, what's this?"

He frowned as he looked down at the paper and then up to her, his expression bemused. "Uh, my test paper? What about it?"

"I don't know," she hedged, taking back the paper from him. "Care to tell me why you never pay any attention in class, don't write anything down, and haven't submitted any homework, yet you complete this entire test in less than 10 minutes, and from what I can tell at first glance, it looks pretty much all correct?"

Dean shrugged, looking away, eyes fixing on the Forces and Mechanics poster pinned to the wall.

"Dean." Jenny moved around the desk and came to a stop in front of him. "What's going on?"

He turned his attention back to her again, this time with a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Nothin's going on, miss. Just never been any good with school."

"Could've fooled me." She gave a small smile and held the paper up. "Dean, this is good work; in fact, I'd say this is better than good. You solved equations here that took me months to fully grasp when I learned them." She watched him carefully. "You know, I think you could be a really good student if you just applied yourself."

He snorted, shaking his head. "'S'not gonna happen, Miss Bradley. Sorry."

She frowned as she placed the paper back on the desk behind her, unable to understand why he was refusing to even try. "Why not? I know school isn't the most exciting thing in the world, and I'm sure there are many more things you would rather be doing instead, but if you just put in a bit more effort, you could really help yourself. You know, get your diploma; maybe even go to college."

This time he laughed out loud, a deep chuckle that resonated around the room.

"Really, Miss Bradley; I appreciate the concern, but school isn't exactly high on my list of priorities. And college? Nuh uh, sorry, not gonna happen."

She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the edge of the desk.

"Why not? If even your answer to the first question on this test is any indication of the rest of it, I'd say if you put in the effort, you could excel in physics, Dean."

"Look, I have more important things to worry about than my grades, okay?" insisted Dean. "And I'm no good at this school stuff anyway… that's Sammy's forte, not mine."

It was on the tip of her tongue to mention what she'd seen in the library last night, to tell him that she knew he was lying, that she knew he was more than capable of being a good student, at least in physics anyway, if only he would believe it; but she stopped herself just in time.

"Plus, it's not like I'm going to be here that long, anyway," he added quietly, almost to himself.

Jenny leaned forward a little, wondering if she'd heard that correctly. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Never mind." He shrugged it off. "Can I go now?"

She sat back against the desk again with a sigh. "Sure."

Her eyes followed him as he nodded and left the room. She shook her head, feeling like she'd just been talking to a brick wall.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly for Jenny, and all too soon, it was Monday morning and she was being rudely awakened by her radio alarm blaring out the latest No Doubt song. She groaned, turned onto her side and reached out her hand to put a stop to the offending sound.

Groggily, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. As she dressed and blow-dried her hair, her thoughts flitted to the reports of missing women that had been front-page news over the last few days. Another had disappeared over the weekend, bringing the total to four now, and no one had found any trace of any of the women, nor any evidence that they may not have survived. Gathering her coat and bag and leaving the house, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she lived in a remote area on the outskirts of the town, and that all of the women were of similar age and appearance to her.

Jenny threw herself into her classes in the hope that the day would pass fairly quickly. She even refused to get annoyed when Tim Jones decided not to sit down all through class, or when Becky Swanson spent all of third period passing notes to Kara Thomas instead of listening to her. There was a slightly awkward moment in the senior class when she caught Dean's eye and he quickly looked away, pretending for the rest of the period that she wasn't even there, but other than that, the day went smoothly.

It wasn't until later that evening when, after dinner, she ventured out for a walk in the woods, that things took a turn for the worse. An evening walk in the woods was something she did often, as she enjoyed the peace and quiet of the countryside, and it was a pleasant evening, with spring beginning to blossom and the temperature starting to warm up a little, Plus, she was only going to be out for a few minutes, so what was the harm? In hindsight, she should have known better than to go out into the middle of nowhere without telling a soul.

And that was how she found herself running for her life, scared out of her mind, and tripping over that damn tree root. Sprawled out on the floor, her heart pounding frantically in her chest, her ankle throbbing with pain and the offending root taunting her mercilessly from two feet away, she closed her eyes, preparing for the worst. She felt her body rising from the ground against her will, a cold chill suddenly surrounding her as some invisible force dragged her upwards and something pressed against her neck, preventing her from being able to breathe.

But there was no attack, no painful death. Only a rustle of leaves and a male voice filtering through her foggy mind as whatever it was that had her in its grip let go and she fell back to the floor, pain shooting through her ankle as she landed.

"Are you hurt?" it asked. The voice got closer and she felt movement beside her. "Hey, ma'am, you okay?"

"Help me! It's trying to kill me!" she managed to gasp frantically, scrambling to get up, but quickly falling to the ground again as her ankle gave out. "Ow, shit!"

"It's okay." The voice assured her as a comforting hand landed on her shoulder. "You'll be safe now."

She nodded and, feeling a little calmer now, looked up toward her saviour. And stopped, gasping in shock. Kneeling in front of her, expression determined and confident, was Dean Winchester.

"Dean?!"

His eyes widened in recognition and for a moment, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Miss Bradley."

"What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously. He looked quickly behind him as a gunshot fired and Jenny jumped in response to the sound. "What the fuck?"

Dean shook his head. "We don't have time right now. We need to get you out of here."

"But, my ankle… I can't walk."

He looked down at where her leg lay twisted on the ground, and swore under his breath.

"Okay… um…" He looked around for something, but then seemed to give up. "Sammy! Sam, get over here!"

A couple of seconds later, there was a rustling behind them and a flustered Sam Winchester came into view, a backpack slung over his shoulders and a shotgun in his hand.

Jenny's mouth dropped open. What the hell was a fourteen-year-old kid doing out in the woods at night with a shotgun?

"She's hurt." Dean nodded towards her. "We need to move her."

Sam stopped short, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Miss Bradley?"

"Hi, Sam," she ventured, suddenly feeling embarrassed about her predicament.

Dean sighed in annoyance. "If you two are done with the reunion, can we get a move on, please? Sam… some help here?"

"Oh, right."

Sam sprang into action and moved to one side of her, sliding an arm around her waist as Dean lifted her from the floor and they began to help her along. Jenny winced at the pain in her ankle as it brushed the ground, not quite able to comprehend the fact that she was currently being carried through the woods by two of her students.

"Are you able to walk at all?" asked Dean, urgency in his voice. "We need to move quickly."

"I can try."

She was able to put full weight on her left ankle, but the right one was out of the question, and she cried out in pain as she tried to stand on it.

"Okay, never mind." Dean shook his head. "We'll just have to do it together."

Jenny clung to both of them as Sam and Dean manoeuvred her through the woods as quickly as they could.

"Sam!" shouted Dean suddenly, his voice echoing in her ear, as a horrific-sounding wailing echoed through the trees. "Three o'clock!"

"On it!"

Jenny watched in horror as Sam lifted the gun in his hand, pointed it into the shadows to his right and pulled the trigger. The rebound from the shot reverberated through her and she shuddered, an involuntary yelp escaping her lips.

"Did you get it?" asked Dean.

"Not sure," responded Sam, slightly breathlessly.

"Be sure." It sounded like an order.

"Yes, sir," Sam muttered under his breath, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. There was more movement from the right and he aimed the gun again, getting off another shot.

Ignoring the attitude from Sam, Dean turned his attention back to Jenny again. "Where do you live? We need to get out of the woods."

"Just through the clearing over there." She nodded in the direction they were heading. "It's not far."

"Okay. We're gonna get you back there," he assured her. "Sam, you get it?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Might've scared it though."

Dean sighed. "Okay, we need to be faster than this. Sam, you cover us; I'm gonna carry her."

"You're gonna what?" was Jenny's immediate reaction as Sam let go and Dean hoisted her up, one arm around her back and the other supporting her legs as he cradled her to him. "No, you can't."

Dean glanced down at her. "I can, and I am. You ready, Sammy?"

"Ready." Sam was standing at attention, gun aimed and ready.

"Okay, let's go."

Jenny found she had to grab onto Dean, her hands around his neck, in order not crash to the ground when he broke into a run. She shouted directions to him as they headed in the direction of her house. Sam followed behind them, staving off… well, whatever it was that was after them.

After what seemed like an eternity, the familiar sight of her cottage came into view and Jenny was filled with relief at the sight.

"You got a key?" came Dean's voice close to her ear as they got to the front door.

"Um, yeah, it's…uh…"

"Never mind." He rolled his eyes… and promptly kicked the door in. "Sorry, no time. I'll get it fixed."

They entered the house, Sam following.

"Salt, Sammy. Quick!" Dean called over his shoulder as he carried her into the living room and gently placed her on the couch.

Jenny barely even had the chance to wonder what on Earth salt had to do with anything, because Dean was looking her over for injuries, his hands landing on her ankle, deftly pulling off her shoe and running his fingers over the swollen flesh.

"What are you doing?" The words spilled from her mouth without thought.

Dean looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and a deadpan expression. "What does it look like? I'm making sure you're okay."

She nodded, suddenly feeling stupid. "So, what was that out there?"

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked directly at her. "That was the cause of all the missing women in this town. If we hadn't found you, you would have been next."

"It is?" She took that in, realising how close she had just been to danger. "What is it?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but his brother chose that moment to interrupt them.

"Dean, we need to get back out there. We don't have much time," said Sam, walking into the room with the now-empty bag of salt Jenny kept in the pantry. She wondered what he had been doing with it and what it had to do with that… thing… out there in the woods."

"Okay, Sammy." He turned back to Jenny, nodding to her ankle, which was still encased in his hands. "We're gonna get you some ice for this, okay? You need to keep it elevated. Sam? Ice?"

His brother nodded obediently and slipped out of the room again, returning a couple of minutes later with a bag of ice from her freezer wrapped in a tea towel. He handed it to Dean, who stood up, placed a couple of cushions under her ankle and wrapped the towel-clad ice around it. Jenny winced at the sudden coldness mixed with pain.

"Thanks."

"Sam and I have to go back into the woods and find this thing," Dean told her as he moved toward the door. "You'll be safe here, though. It can't get in."

"Wait," she called out, her mind a confused jumble. "What exactly are you going to do… I mean, what's out there? It's gotta be dangerous, right?"

Dean's mouth lifted in a wry smile. "Don't worry about us. We know what we're doing. Just stay calm and look after that ankle. We'll be back soon, okay?"

Before she could protest any further, the boys had disappeared and the house grew silent, leaving her to try to make sense of what had just happened.

It was almost three hours before there was any sign of the Winchester brothers and Jenny had been driving herself crazy on her own in the house, stuck on the couch with her ankle going numb from the cold trying not to panic. She had no idea what was going on, or what had been chasing her in the woods. Or for that matter, what two teenage boys, her own students no less, were doing getting involved with it in the first place.

She had tried to distract herself from her thoughts by turning the television on, but not even the new episode of Melrose Place could hold her attention. She'd thought that thing out there was some kind of animal, but it didn't make sense for it to be the cause of the missing women. After all, what kind of animal would be smart enough to only go after blonde women in their mid-20's… surely they wouldn't care what their victims looked like?

She jumped as the front door, which apparently hadn't been too damaged when Dean kicked it in earlier, since it was still standing, slammed open with a loud crash and Sam and Dean appeared in the living room, looking slightly worse for wear. Dean had a nasty-looking cut above his brow and was cradling one arm against his chest, while a large bruise was beginning to colour the side of Sam's face.

"What happened?" she found herself asking, although she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. "Are you boys okay?"

Dean nodded, leaning against the end of the couch, wincing as he did so. "It's finished." He looked over at Sam. "Can you go get the first aid kit from the car?" At his brother's nod, he added, "Thanks, buddy."

"Finished?" Jenny enquired, curiosity burning inside her.

"Yeah. Thing's dead, we found the missing women—"

"Oh my God, are they okay?"

"Yeah… well they're all alive so…" He cleared his throat. "They were being kept in this backwoods cabin… man, it was creepy in there." He shuddered at the thought. "We got them out, took them back to the car and got them to the nearest hospital."

"Wow." She didn't know what to say, it was so much information to take in at once. "So, um… what was it—the thing that was after me, the thing that took those women?"

"At first, we weren't sure, but we had a few ideas."

"Ideas?" she echoed disbelievingly—how many things did they think it could have been?

He shrugged. "Well, first thought was a wendigo, but they live up north… you now, Minnesota way. They aren't found in Virginia. So, then we figured perhaps a werewolf… but that didn't make sense either, because there have been no bodies found and no hearts missing; then finally we made a breakthrough and realised it was actually a ghost."

"Huh? A… a ghost?"

Jenny's head was spinning at all the information he'd just unloaded on her and she looked back and forth between Dean and Sam, who had re-entered the room with a battered-looking bag, in confusion.

"Wait, hang on… ghosts are real? And werewolves… and uh, wen—wendigos?" Whatever they were.

"Yep."

She exhaled heavily. This was a hell of a lot to take in.

"Well, fuck me."

Dean's brows rose as he tried to hide a grin. "Wow, Miss Bradley, you always use that kind of language around your students?"

Jenny just shot him an incredulous look. "I think after what's just happened, I'm entitled to do a little cursing. So, you boys gonna tell me how all this is possible, and how exactly you knew about it?"

She watched as Dean and Sam exchanged a look and a nod, before Dean spoke, "We're hunters."

"Hunters?" She let the word roll around her tongue, before she shook her head, giving a small, nervous chuckle. "As in deer and rabbits and things, right?"

"No… monsters, generally," clarified Dean. "Ghosts, werewolves, you name it, we hunt it."

"Monsters? Seriously?" She scoffed. "I mean, ghosts, well… I guess I can believe that… I mean, lots of people believe in ghosts, but monsters? Werewolves… wendigos? I don't know."

"It's true," confirmed Dean. "How else do you explain what happened out there tonight?"

"Well, I, uh…"

"Exactly."

"Okay." She nodded, taking a calming breath. "Okay. So, you hunt monsters."

"Yeah," piped up Sam. "Our dad's a hunter too, he takes hunting jobs all over the place… wherever there's something to hunt, that's where we go."

Jenny was surprised. "He takes you with him, on these hunts? Isn't that dangerous? I mean, hunting monsters isn't exactly child's play, right?"

"Yeah, he does," said Dean, somewhat defensively. "So what? We're fine. We go to school while he's on hunts."

"And this is what you do…with your lives?" She looked to Dean. "This is why school isn't your priority?"

Dean looked down, shifting on the end of the couch, adjusting the position of his injured arm "Yeah. I've been doing this pretty much forever; it's my future too. The family business."

"Right," she said faintly.

"You know, you're taking this pretty well," he commented.

"Yeah…" she said. "I think I'm kinda in shock right now." She looked between the boys as Sam opened the first aid bag and started pulling out gauze and bandages. "So it was a ghost? In the woods?"

"Yep," said Sam this time, making a sling for Dean's injured arm, while Dean attempted to clean up the cut on his forehead with a wad of cotton wool. "It was the spirit of a man who died there almost exactly a year ago… at the cabin we found the women in, actually."

"Yeah," added Dean. "Turns out he found out his wife cheated on him, so he murdered her, then killed himself. Nice guy, huh?"

"Yeah…" Jenny murmured softly, not sure she really wanted to know this stuff after all.

"Seems he didn't get enough revenge when he was alive, so he took it upon himself to hunt down women who resembled his dead wife and lure them to the cabin. For well… I don't even know what."

"Right."

As Sam finished with the sling and taped up Dean's cut, then moved to Jenny to bandage her ankle, Dean filled her in on a few more details of the ghost hunt and hunting in general. Some of which, to be honest, she would rather not have heard. When Sam was finished and Dean had told her more than she wanted to know, the two of them made her a hot drink and checked that she was going to be all right, helping her up the stairs, before wishing her a good night and leaving the house.

Jenny settled into bed the best she could with a busted ankle and tried to process everything that had happened that evening, everything she'd just learned about the Winchesters… and about the world in general, she supposed. She found herself torn between being pretty amazed at what those two boys dealt with on a daily basis, and feeling a little sorry for them, for how they had been forced to live their lives, moving from one place to another, never having a steady home… all for the sake of hunting monsters and ghosts and whatever else might be out there in the dark.

Jenny called in sick the next morning, her ankle still painful and throbbing and unable to bear weight. She just about managed to drag herself out of bed, shuffle down the stairs on her bottom and hobble into the kitchen for a mug of coffee and some breakfast, before the pain flared up again and she had to grab some more ice and get herself back to the couch again to rest it.

By mid-morning, she was thoroughly bored and frustrated, unable to do much else but sit on the sofa and flick through the crappy morning TV shows. She was unable to concentrate on any of them though, her thoughts too full of ghosts and hunting and the Winchester boys. She was in the process of trying to distract herself with The Price is Right, when a loud thump came from the front of the house and she jumped in both fear and surprise. Clutching the TV remote tightly in her hand, as if that would protect her somehow, she sat up cautiously, unable to do anything other than stare at the living room door, praying that nothing would come through it.

There was a sudden knock at the door and she breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar voice sounded through it.

"Miss Bradley? You here?"

"It's open," she called out. "Come on in."

She heard the door creak open and then close softly, before footsteps sounded in the hallway as Dean appeared in the living room doorway, clad in his usual attire of worn jeans, flannel shirt and that brown, oversized leather jacket.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked hesitantly, hovering in the doorway.

She shook her head and gestured to the armchair next to the sofa. "Go right ahead."

She watched him as he gingerly took a seat in the comfy chair. He looked a little more worse for wear in the daylight, the cut on his forehead no longer taped up, but still looking bruised and nasty. Jenny noticed that although he wasn't wearing a sling anymore either, he was carefully cradling his arm against his ribs.

"I, uh… sorry about your door," he said, looking a little sheepish as he glanced in the direction of the hallway. "I'll, um, pay for it."

He looked a little pained to be saying it, and Jenny had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" she asked gently.

He shrugged, giving a self-conscious smile. "Came to check you were okay."

"I'm okay, she assured him, before raising an eyebrow. "Thanks. But you really had to cut school to do it?"

Dean rolled his eyes at that, but nodded anyway, giving her a quick grin. "Guess so."

"Right. Of course."

Dean looked down at his injured arm for a moment, as if contemplating something, before he lifted his head to look at her again, his expression serious. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened last night. If only we'd figured it out and ganked the SOB sooner, you wouldn't have had to be involved."

Jenny felt a tug in her chest at the guilty expression on his face and felt the need to reassure him. "Dean. It wasn't your fault. You and Sam… you did the best you could. I mean, you saved my life last night."

"Yeah, maybe," he murmured, still not looking convinced. "But still, we weren't on the ball… I mean, if Dad had been here, he would have—"

"Your Dad's pretty tough on you boys, huh?" Jenny cut him off gently.

Dean caught her eye for a moment, before replying, "Yeah, well, he has to be. In this job, you have to be on the ball, all the time. One slip-up can get you killed."

"Okay, I can understand that," she conceded. "But you and Sam, you're only kids, you know. You shouldn't have to worry about having that kind of responsibility."

"Hey, I'm 18. I'm an adult." Jenny pressed her lips together to prevent herself from smiling at the defensiveness in his tone. "I can handle this kind of stuff myself."

"I didn't say you couldn't, I just meant that you shouldn't have to."

There was an awkward moment of silence between them as Dean looked down at his hands again and Jenny shifted her position on the couch.

"So, um, your dad's away a lot?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "He drops us off at motels, you know, while he works hunting jobs, and Sammy and I go to school."

Jenny frowned as something came to her. "What about your mom?"

At Dean's knee-jerk reaction, she immediately regretted the words. He had stiffened, his back ramrod straight, eyes downcast, looking for all the world like he wanted to be talking about anything else.

"Mom's dead," he said tightly, deliberately not looking at her.

"Oh, Dean. I'm sorry." Jenny cursed herself for putting her foot right in it.

He shook his head, seemingly pushing aside his emotions as he looked back up at her again. "It was a long time ago. Sammy was just a baby."

"I'm still sorry," she apologised again. "We don't have to talk about it."

For a long moment, Dean looked like he wasn't going to say anything else, but then he started speaking softly. "It was a fire. In Sam's nursery. She was pinned to the ceiling somehow. The police called it an accident, some kind of an electrical fault or something, but my dad had been there, seen it. He knew better. Something killed her, something not natural."

"Oh." Jenny's eyes widened in realisation. "Like a monster or something."

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "We don't know for sure. Afterwards… my dad took Sammy and me and went looking for answers. He's been trying to find the thing that killed her ever since."

"Oh, Dean." Jenny shook her head sadly. What have these boys been through? No one deserves this kind of life. "So, then, if you're dad's off… hunting… all the time, what about you and Sam?"

"Well, we hunt with him sometimes too, but when we're not… we, you know, we take care of each other." Dean shrugged. "I mean, Sam's still a kid, so it's more that I take care of him. But that's okay; it's my job, my responsibility to look after him; make sure he's safe."

Wow. Jenny didn't know what to say to that. No wonder Dean didn't make school a priority, what with all that other weight on his shoulders.

"And your dad? How do you feel about him leaving you behind?" She knew she might be pushing it, digging too deep, but he seemed to be opening up to her and she didn't want to waste the opportunity to learn a little more about him.

Dean raised his eyes to hers, an expression of pride on his face as he answered earnestly, "My dad's the best. He does what he does because it's necessary, he doesn't have a choice. He saves lives. He's a hero."

That had been the last time she'd seen Dean Winchester. By the time her ankle was healed and she was back at work a few days later, the Winchester boys were gone; they had just up and left the school altogether. Several of her colleagues were speculating over the reasons for their disappearance: everything from Dean being arrested, to them going on the run, to a death in the family, but Jenny knew better. She knew that their father must have returned and taken them on the road with him, searching out their next case.

She hadn't expected to hear anything from them again, but a couple of weeks later, an envelope in the post arrived in the post. It contained a wad of bills and a note with the words: 'For the door. Sorry.'

Nine years later

"Hannah, sweetie, stay where I can see you, okay?" Jenny called out to her four-year-old daughter, who was running excitedly across the small park towards her best friend, Daisy, long, blonde hair flowing in the breeze as she ran.

"She's growing up so fast, isn't she?" commented Cathy from her seat beside her on the wooden park bench. "Seems like just yesterday she was a baby."

"I know."

Jenny shook her head with a smile as she watched Hannah having fun on the slide. Some days she couldn't believe it herself. So much had happened in the last few years; meeting Ben, moving with him to Illinois, then getting married and having Hannah. It had been a whirlwind, and even now, four years later, life had yet to slow down. After leaving Virginia back in 2000, she had gotten a job teaching high school physics here in Bloomington, but since Hannah had come along, she'd been a stay-at-home mom, Ben supporting the three of them with his job at the bank.

She had a new life here in Illinois, what with Ben and Hannah taking up most of her time, but she was still in contact with a couple of her friends from Charlottesville, and Cathy would come out to visit for the weekend now and then. This visit however was just a fleeting one, as Cathy was on her way to a wedding a couple of hours away in Effingham and had just stopped by for a short time on her way down there. They'd had brunch in the café across the street earlier, and then decided to enjoy her friend's last couple of hours in town by soaking up the early afternoon sunshine in the local park.

Jenny watched Hannah for a moment longer, before turning back to Cathy. "So, how's life back at Middleton High?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." Cathy shrugged. "Nothing much happening in my area of the world, as usual. Not like here in the Midwest, it seems."

"What do you mean?"

Cathy perked up, turning to face her more fully. Jenny knew the expression on her friend's face. It was her 'I have gossip and I have to tell you right now' expression.

"You didn't hear about that murder spree down in St. Louis the other week?"

Jenny frowned, shaking her head. "No, I don't think so."

Cathy looked surprised. "Seriously? It's been all over the news."

Jenny shrugged unapologetically. "Cath, I spend all my days with a four-year-old, remember? All I ever do is watch kids TV and read kid's books. I can't even remember the last time I actually sat down to read a newspaper or watch the news."

"Wow, so you're seriously out of the loop then?" Cathy leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, there were these freaky murders in St. Louis a couple of weeks ago. Two women were tied up and beaten to death in their own homes. They arrested the husbands; apparently there was all this evidence that it was them."

"Oh my God." Jenny's eyes widened in shock. What kind of people could do something like that to their own family?

"Yeah, I know. But then there were all these weird similarities in the cases, things that couldn't have just been coincidence, and so when a third woman, who wasn't even in a relationship, survived and gave her statement, they discovered it was just one guy, a serial killer, who was going after all of the women."

"Wow, that's messed up." Jenny shuddered at the thought.

"That's not even the worst part," said Cathy. "You remember that kid and his brother who went to Middleton for a while, just before you met Ben? They just disappeared one day and never showed up again. Dean Winchester, his name was?"

The words sent a rush of surprise through Jenny. Wow. Dean Winchester. She hadn't heard that name in years. Memories of another time flooded her mind; memories of ghosts and woods and two teenage boys, older than their years, who hunted monsters and saved lives.

"Dean Winchester?" she echoed faintly. "Yeah, I… I think that name rings a bell."

"Well, if you didn't remember before, you definitely will now." Cathy gave her a pointed look. "They say he was the guy who did it, he was the one who killed those women."

"What?" Jenny straightened, her mouth falling open in shock. No way. "No, that can't be right."

Cathy shook her head. "Totally true. They found his body at the third woman's house. Positive ID and everything."

His body? Dean was dead? Jenny shook her head. She refused to believe that.

The whole story just didn't seem to ring true to her. Something wasn't quite right. There was no way that the boy who had saved her life from an angry, wife-murdering ghost all those years ago, the boy who had thought his father a hero for saving people, who had felt it was his job to keep his brother safe, would ever deliberately murder innocent an woman.

She hadn't seen or heard from Dean or Sam since they'd left Charlottesville nine years ago, but she had occasionally thought of them over the years, usually whenever she'd heard of a so-called 'haunted house' story or news reports of strange creature sightings, and she'd always hoped they were still out there, hunting monsters and doing good in the world.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Cathy that Dean Winchester couldn't be who she thought he was, to reason that he couldn't possibly have been responsible for those murders, but she couldn't… she had never told anyone about what had happened that day in the woods, never even hinted that she knew anything more about the Winchester boys than any of the other teachers at the school.

"Seriously?" she said instead, letting her gaze slip back to where Hannah was laughing with her friend as they played in the sandpit. "Wow. Guess you never really know a person, do you?"

"Guess not," replied Cathy as she looked at her watch. "Look, sorry, hon, I really gotta get going. I have to be at the hotel by six." She leaned over to give Jenny a quick hug, before standing up and shifting her handbag onto her shoulder. "It was lovely to see you and Hannah again though."

"You too."

Jenny called Hannah over to say goodbye to Cathy and they walked her to her car, waving her off with promises to see each other again soon.

"Okay, Hannie," Jenny said to her daughter as she took her hand. "It's time to go home now."

"No, I wanna play some more." Hannah looked up at her, bright blue eyes wide and lower lip pushed out in a pout. "Please?"

Jenny shook her head. "Sorry, honey, we need to get home so I can finish making dinner." She crouched down in front of Hannah, still holding her hand. "Look, how about we get some ice cream on the way home? Would you like that?"

Hannah's expression lit up excitedly. "Yes, please."

"Okay, then. Ice cream it is." Jenny chuckled at her daughter's response. Ice cream was always a winner.

They walked the two blocks to the ice cream shop, Hannah chattering excitedly the whole way about playing in the sandpit with Daisy. Jenny ordered two cones, handing the strawberry one to Hannah, and leaving her Rocky Road in the holder on the counter so she could pay. As she was handing the money to the cashier, movement from the entrance caught her eye and she turned to see Hannah heading towards the door.

"Hannah, wait for Mommy, please," she called. "Don't go outside, okay?"

It was too late. Hannah had ducked underneath the arm of a lady who was holding the door open, chatting on her cell phone, and was walking out into the street. The scene unfolded almost in slow motion, and before she had even had time to run out of the shop to grab her, Hannah had collided with a tall man walking down the street. Jenny's eyes widened as she watched her daughter's precious ice cream scoop topple over and land right down the poor man's jeans. She sighed when she saw his expression turn into one of annoyance, as he held his hands out to the side and looked down at the mess, then rolled his eyes at his companion, an even taller man standing just behind him.

"Hannah!" she gasped quickly, making her way out of the ice cream parlour, her own ice cream forgotten.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," she apologised quickly as she reached her daughter, who looked to be on the verge of tears at the loss of her precious cone. She dug into her pocket for a tissue, and handed it to the man. "Here, use this. Hannah, what do you say?"

"Sorry," whimpered Hannah softly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Didn't mean to."

"Hey, it's okay." The ice-cream-splattered man smiled then, relaxing a little as he took the tissue from Jenny and began swiping at the rapidly melting mess on his jeans. "It's only a little ice cream."

Jenny was a little surprised at the warmth in his tone. From his earlier expression, she had expected him to be more pissed off than this. He crouched down in front of Hannah, so he was almost eye-level with her.

"Hey, it's Hannah, right?" She nodded sadly, looking up at him. "Well, Hannah, I'm real sorry about your ice cream. I didn't mean to walk right into it. I can be a real klutz sometimes, just ask my brother."

He glanced up toward his companion and Jenny saw the other man's lips twitch in amusement. She found herself hiding a smile at the interaction as well.

"Here, let me make it up to you, okay? I'm gonna go get you another ice cream," he told her. Hannah's eyes lit up in pleasure. "It was strawberry, right?"

At her nod, the man stood up and turned towards the store. Jenny reached out a hand to stop him, her fingers landing on the soft, worn leather of his jacket.

"You don't have to do that."

"No, it's okay. I want to." He flashed her a winning smile, before turning to Hannah. "One strawberry ice cream coming right up."

He wadded up the tissue in his hand, tossing into a nearby trashcan, before disappearing into the ice cream parlour, leaving Jenny standing on the sidewalk with his friend… his brother, it seemed.

"Mommy?"

Hannah tugged on her hand, looking up at her with wide eyes, tears still shining in them. Jenny hoisted her daughter up into her arms.

"You okay, sweetie?" she asked. Hannah nodded, burying her head in her shoulder. "The nice man is going to get you a new ice cream."

"I'm really sorry about this," apologised the other man, still standing in front of her, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets.

"It's not your fault." Jenny shook her head. "She shouldn't have gone out into her street on her own… should you, honey?" Hannah shook her head against her shoulder.

As they waited for the replacement ice cream, Jenny took a moment to observe his friend standing before her. He wasn't so much a man as a boy, she noted. Despite his gangly height, his appearance was youthful, shaggy brown hair falling over his forehead, his attire baggy jeans and a hoodie. He looked more like a college kid rather than a fully matured adult.

"Okay, here you go." The other man appeared beside them, holding two cones. He handed the fresh strawberry one to Hannah, who took it eagerly and then shrugged at the one in his other hand. It was her abandoned Rocky Road cone. "The, uh, cashier said you left this one."

"Thanks," smiled Jenny, letting her daughter down so she could take the ice cream from him. "I'm sorry, again."

He just held up a hand in dismissal. "Really, there's no need. It's forgotten."

He crouched down in front of Hannah again, his expression soft. "But you gotta listen to your mommy, okay? She gets scared if you run off like that."

"Okay." Hannah nodded solemnly.

"Okay then." He smiled widely and ruffled her hair.

Jenny smiled at the interaction, warmth flooding through her at the interaction. For all the tough demeanour he seemed to be displaying, what with the leather jacket and workman's boots, and the way he carried himself, he certainly seemed to have a way with kids. He stood up and turned to his friend.

"You ready to go, Sammy?"

The younger man shot her a quick smile as he shrugged. "Sure thing, Dean."

As they walked past her, Jenny frowned in recognition. Sammy… Dean… it couldn't be, could it? Everything suddenly clicked into place. The familiar leather jacket; the shaggy hair surrounding that youthful face. Of course it was them. And Dean was definitely alive and well, just as she had thought.

"Wait!" The two of them stopped, turned back towards her in unison. "Sammy… Dean…. Winchester?"

They both froze, eyes wide, mirroring startled expressions on their faces. Dean swallowed harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so.

"What?" he said tightly, expression cautious.

"It is you, isn't it?" Jenny took a step forward.

"I don't know what you mean." Sam feigned innocence.

"Jenny Morris." She pointed to herself. "Well, I was Jenny Bradley back then. I was a teacher at Middleton High in Charlottesville, VA. You boys saved me from a ghost in the woods about nine years ago."

They both frowned for a moment, before Dean's expression cleared into one of realisation. "Wait… Miss Bradley?"

"Yep, that's me. You can call me Jenny, though."

"Wow." He smacked Sam's arm with the back of his hand. "You remember, Sam? That case we worked when Dad was on that job in Augusta?" He turned back to Jenny. "You were the physics teacher, right?" She nodded. "Wow, long time, no see."

"Yeah," she agreed. "So how are you boys?"

She watched as they exchanged an uneasy glance, before Sam shrugged. "Yeah, we're all right."

"Look, I don't live far from here. Why don't you come in for a coffee and a slice of home-made chocolate cake?"

Sam's expression was hesitant as he said, "Thanks for the offer, but I think we should—"

He was cut off by Dean's elbow in his side, as he grinned at her boyishly. "What are you talking about, Sammy? We'd love to."

As Sam and Dean settled down onto the comfy sofa in her living room, and Hannah settled herself on the floor of the den next door with a few of her toys, Jenny fixed some coffee and cut them each a slice of the cake she'd made that morning before Cathy arrived. She had been saving it for dinner tonight, in case her friend had decided to stay, but she might as well offer it to her unexpected guests instead.

"Okay, here you are," she announced, entering the living room and placing mugs and plates down on the coffee table in front of the Winchesters.

"Thanks, Miss—uh, Jenny." Dean grinned sheepishly as he caught himself and she smiled in response. She wasn't Miss Bradley anymore; hadn't been for a long time.

"Not at all." She gestured to the plates. "Please, go ahead."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Sam rolled his eyes as Dean picked up his plate and eagerly dug in, before reaching for his own place and cut a small mouthful of the cake.

As they ate, Jenny observed the two young men before her. They'd certainly grown up in the last nine years, Sam especially, having gone from a scrawny 14-year-old, barely 5 feet tall, to the lofty, lean man in front of her. He would be 22 or 23 by now, she supposed, and he had to have grown to well over 6 feet, taller than Dean, even. Despite the overall bodily transformation he'd been through since then, she noticed that his facial features hadn't changed all much after all. Even his hair was still styled similarly to when she'd last seen him. Dean on the other hand, now that she was looking at him properly, really hadn't changed much at all; he'd just matured. His features were more defined now and his body had filled out; he'd grown into himself, she though, and he carried himself more confidently than he had before. She was surprised she hadn't recognised him immediately outside the ice cream parlour earlier.

"So, Dean, I'm guessing the fact that you're sitting here means you didn't die in St. Louis recently?"

Jenny cringed as Dean froze, forkful of pie halfway to his mouth. The words had spilled from her lips without even thinking about them.

"Uh, you heard about that?" He lowered the fork and placed the plate back down on the table.

"Not really," she shrugged. "I've been pretty busy with Hannah lately, no time to watch the news. But my friend, Cathy mentioned it earlier this afternoon."

"What happened in St. Louis was a misunderstanding. That wasn't me, it was a shapeshifter." He looked up at her, apparently seeing the confusion on her face. "A shapeshifter is basically human, but it can change its shape to look like anyone. This one went after women, changing his form to look like their husbands and boyfriends so that they would take the fall for the murders, not him."

"Wow, that's just, uh…wow." Jenny didn't know what to say to that. Shapeshifters? That was a new one to her, although it meant that things were starting to fall into place a little more now. "So, this, um, shapeshifter… it changed itself to look like you? Set it up so that you would get caught?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Dunno. It knew we were on to it, I guess." Dean shrugged. "And the third woman, Becky, she's one of Sam's friends from college."

Jenny hid her surprise at hearing Sam had apparently gone to college. She had assumed, like Dean had said, that college wasn't in the cards for either of them.

Dean continued, "Her brother was the first victim's boyfriend. The shapeshifter impersonated him, but he was the one arrested. The shifter later changed and went after her while he looked like me. I killed him, but the body was left behind… which means the cops now think I did it."

"Wow… that's kind of..."

"Crazy? Yeah, we know," said Sam, leaning forward and putting his plate down. "We're having to lay low now, considering everyone thinks Dean's a serial killer… not to mention that he's supposedly dead too."

"Geez…" Jenny whistled under her breath. "That's really messed up." She looked between them. "But, other than that, you boys are doing well? You're still hunting with your dad?"

For the second time in the last few minutes, Jenny immediately regretted her words, their reactions pretty much saying it all. They both stiffened, looking uneasily at each other for a moment, before Dean spoke.

"Dad's missing; has been for a couple of months now. We don't know where he is or if he's even…" he trailed off, looking down at his hands, before straightening his shoulders. "But we'll find him. I know we will."

"I'm sorry, Dean… Sam," said Jenny sympathetically. "I'm sure he's okay."

"Yeah, we hope so," added Sam, hands pressed together, forearms resting on his knees.

The Winchesters exchanged another glance, and Jenny got the feeling there was more to the story than that, but after her epic foot-in-mouth faux pas just now, she wasn't going to push it.

"Mommy?" Hannah's soft voice from the doorway caught her attention and she turned to see her daughter standing a couple of feet away, fingers curled around favourite teddy bear, Snuggles.

"What is it, sweetie?" she asked gently.

"Can we play a game?"

Jenny gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, honey, maybe later, okay? We have guests right now."

"You know what, Hannah? How about I play a game with you?" Dean piped up then, causing Jenny to turn to face him in surprise. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah!" Hannah's mouth curved into a wide smile, as Sam and Jenny exchanged bemused looks. "Come on."

Dean shot Sam a look that said 'what?' as he allowed Hannah to grab his hand and lead him over to the far corner of the room, where Jenny kept the board games. She and Sam watched for a moment as Hannah selected Snakes and Ladders and Dean helped her set it up and get the game started.

"He's pretty good with kids, isn't he?" said Jenny softly a moment later.

"Yeah." Sam's voice held a hint of wonder, as if this was a fairly new thing to him as well. "I guess so."

"So, uh, you went to college then?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah, I did."

"From what Dean said back then, I didn't think it was something you would be able to do."

"Yeah, well… not for him," admitted Sam with a shrug. "He loves this life; always wanted to be a hunter. But me… I wanted to get out. So, I worked my butt off and got myself a full ride to Stanford."

"Wow, Stanford? Good for you, Sam."

"Yeah, well…" He looked down at his hands uncomfortably. "It was good until recently. I was getting good grades, applying to law school, making a new life for myself, but then… well, Dad disappeared, and then my girlfriend died right after that…"

"Oh my God, Sam. I'm so sorry." Jenny felt a painful tug in her chest at his admission. "What happened to her? It wasn't something… you know…was it?"

Her heart sank when he nodded. "Yeah, it was. We don't know what did it… it was a fire… she burned on the ceiling."

A fire on the ceiling? That sounded familiar. Her mind flashed back to what Dean had said the day after the ghost incident.

"A fire… like your mom?"

Sam's head snapped up at that, gaze piercing. "How did you know about that?"

"Oh, um…" She shifted uncomfortably on her chair, then nodded toward Dean. "Dean told me. He came to see me the next day, after the ghost thing."

"He did?" Sam looked over at his brother in surprise. "Wow, I didn't know. He almost never talks about that stuff."

"Really?" Jenny murmured softly, wondering why Dean had felt the need to tell her about it.

"We think maybe what killed Jessica was the same thing that killed Mom, and maybe Dad knows something about how to find it. We've been looking for him, but we don't know where he is."

Jenny nodded and was about to say something else, but it seemed Sam had decided the conversation was getting a bit too heavy for him, and he quickly turned the focus onto her, and what she'd been up to over the last few years. They chatted for a few minutes longer, while Dean finished up his game of Snakes and Ladders with Hannah. He helped her tidy everything away and then stood up.

"Hey, Sammy, we should get going."

"Oh, of course." Jenny stood up. "You probably have somewhere to be. Don't let me keep you."

"Thanks for the coffee, Jenny." Sam smiled warmly.

"And the cake." Dean grinned.

"My pleasure." Jenny gave them a warm smile. She glanced down at the pinkish stain on Dean's jeans. "And sorry again about the whole ice cream incident."

"No big." Dean shook his head. "I've had to deal with much worse than a bit of ice cream on my jeans before." Jenny wasn't even sure she wanted to know what that might have been. He looked down at Hannah, who was standing beside her now. "You have a great daughter, Jenny."

"Thank you." She smiled, running her hand over her daughter's hair.

Dean bent down to Hannah's height. "You take care of your mom, now."

Hannah nodded, burying her face against Jenny's leg.

"You boys take care of yourselves too," Jenny said as she walked them to the door. "I hope you find your Dad."

"Us too." Sam nodded.

They said goodbye and as she watched them walk away, heading back to where they had parked their car, she found herself smiling. Despite what she imagined most people thought of them, they were good boys; good men, she corrected. The moment Cathy had said Dean's name earlier, she had known in her gut that what she was saying couldn't have been true, and the last couple of hours with them had only confirmed those suspicions.

She hoped that they would be able to continue helping people and doing good in this world for a long time to come, even if their actions largely went unnoticed and unrecognised by the world. It sounded like they had been through so much in their lives already and they deserved to find their father and to catch whatever it was that had killed their mom and Sam's girlfriend. They deserved to be happy.

End