Dean approached, still firing at her.

Constance glared at Dean and vanished, then reappeared, and Dean kept firing until she disappeared again.

Sam managed to sit up and start the car. "I'm taking you home," He drove forward.

Dean stared after the Impala.

Sam smashed through the side of the house.

Dean hurried through the wreckage to the passenger side of the Impala. "Sam! Sam! You okay?"

"I think..." Sam muttered. "Yeah. Help me?"

Dean leaned through the window to give Sam a hand.

Constance picked up a large framed photograph.

Dean helped Sam out of the Impala. "There you go," He closed the car door.

They looked around to see Constance; she looked up.

Constance glared at them and threw the picture down.

A bureau scooted towards Sam and Dean, pinning them against the Impala. The lights flickered; Constance looked around, scared. Water began to pour down the staircase.

Constance went over to the stairs.

At the top were the boy and girl from the photograph.

The children held hands and spoke in chorus. "You've come home to us, Mommy,"

Constance looked at them, distraught.

Suddenly the children were behind her; they embraced her tightly and she screamed, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children melted into a puddle on the floor. The bureau was pushed and the boys fell to the ground.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean noted.

Sam nodded "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them,"

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy," Dean slapped Sam on the chest where he'd been injured and walked away.

Sam laughed through the pain. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey. Saved your ass." Dean leaned over to look at the car "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" He twisted around to look at Sam "I'll kill you,"

Sam laughed.

***

The Impala tore down the road; the right headlight was out.

Sam had the journal open to Dean 35-111 and a map open on his lap and was finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder. "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado,"

Dean nodded "Sounds charming. How far?"

"About six hundred miles,"

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,"

Sam looked at him, hesitating "Dean, I, um..."

Dean glanced at the road and back "You're not going,"

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,"

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road "Yeah. Yeah, whatever." Dean glanced at Sam "I'll take you home,"

Sam turned the flashlight off.

They pulled up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning.

Sam got out and leaned over to look through the window. "Call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right." Dean sighed.

Sam patted the door twice and turned away.

Dean leaned toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat. "Sam?"

Sam turned back.

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there,"

"Yeah," Sam smiled.

Dean drove off.

Sam watched him go and sighed.

***

Dean drove the Impala his eyes went to the picture he had taken out of his dad's journal. He became looked down in confusion when his radio started to go out...he fiddled with the knob until the signal became clear.

"Dean,"

Dean slammed on the brakes seeing the girl in his rearview mirror, his eyes shifting between her and the picture, they were the same...the same red hair and the same emerald green eyes. "Rae..."

"Turn around." Rae ordered "Sam's in trouble,"

Dean didn't question it as he made a U-turn, arriving at the apartment he saw the smoke. He looked back but Rae had disappeared once more. Dean hurried into the apartment, kicking the front door open. "Sam!"

"Jess!" Sam screamed.

Dean came running into the bedroom. "Sam! Sam!" He looked up and saw Jess.

"No! No!"

Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and bodily shoved him out the door, Sam struggling all the way.

"Jess! Jess! No!" Sam exclaimed.

Flames engulfed the apartment.

***

A fire truck was parked outside the building, firemen, and police keeping back gawkers.

Dean looked on, then turned and walked back to his Impala.

Sam was standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun.

Dean looked at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face was set in a mask of desperate anger.

Sam looked up, then sighed, nodded, tossed the shotgun into the trunk. "We got work to do," He shut the trunk.

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