"I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it anyway except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance."
― Beryl Markham
As the team busied themselves, Reid and Morgan found the Winchester's childhood home. A large tree hung outside the building.
"If you look there, the wood is different, must have remodelled it after the fire," Morgan told his partner, nodding to the second floor of the house.
"Well, let's see if the tenants know have seen the boys."
The duo rush forward, knocking on the door and awaiting an answer. A young teen opened it, looking around the same age as Jane Doe.
"Hello, we're looking for Jenny Richardson?"
They hold out their badges.
"Mom!" She yells, not allowing the two agents inside, she stared at them judgmentally.
"What Sari?" Said a woman coming in, whom they assumed was Jenny.
"Ms Richardson?" Morgan asked.
"Yes? How can I help you?" Jenny pushed the teen aside taking her place.
"We're from the FBI, we'd like to ask you a few questions, may we come in?"
Soon they were seated in the living room, each holding a glass of lemonade as Jenny awaited their questions.
"Do you know of Sam and Dean Winchester ma'am?" Morgan tilted his head slightly.
A flash of recognition showed on her face as Reid laid out their mug shots.
"Urm, yes. This is their childhood home..." She trailed off her eyebrows furrowing. "I thought they'd died."
"They've been assumed dead before ma'am... when was the last time you saw them?"
She paused in thought, "About um, eight... maybe nine years ago?"
"What were they doing here?"
That's when Jenny stiffened, her hand playing with the sleeve.
"They just wanted to see how it was doing... passing through." Came the reply.
Reid gave Morgan a look, it was obvious she was holding something back, but that wasn't important. Finding the little girl.
"When they came, did they happen to have a little girl with them? Aproxamitly seven, bright green eyes?"
"Belle? Is she okay?"
A name, both of the agents tensed.
"Belle?" Morgan breathed.
"Yeah, she's Dean's daughter. Um, she came along with them, bright young thing... is she okay?"
"I'm afraid she was abducted."
"What?!"
Jenny was speechless she sat there her mouth agape slightly.
"Do you know if anyone wanted to hurt Belle?" Reid asked.
"I didn't know her long, she passed through so long ago, I wouldn't know but Missouri Moseley would. "
"Missouri Moseley?"
"Yeah, she's a friend of the boys, she's a local psychic."
They bid the woman goodbye and made their way to the SUV Morgan paused and then called Garcia.
"Oracle of Quantico. Speak if you deign to hear the truth."
"Hey, baby girl you ready to work some magic?" He flirts.
"Oh my chocolate god, I can work all kinds of magic."
That resulted in a heart filled laugh from Morgan.
"I bet you could, can you find me, Missouri Moseley?"
"I'm insulted, okay searching now." There was a pause. "Check your phone my dear crime fighter."
"Thanks, Dollface."
"Worship me later!" Garcia sang and ended the call.
Meanwhile, Spencer was telling Hotch they were following a lead.
"We good pretty boy?" Morgan asks, getting into the driver's seat as they head off into the direction of the psychic.
"Uh, yeah, everything's fine."
"Now I know you ain't lying to me. What's up?"
Spencer frowned, looking at his lap, a frown on his face.
"This case... when it's over. If we find her, do you have any idea how hard her life will be? She's grown up with a serial killing family. She'll pay for this, for the rest of her life." Tears burned at Spencer's eyes, not falling. He didn't know why this hit home so much for him, but his heart ached.
"Whoa, whoa. There is no if. We will find her. I promise you that. Also, yeah this is one of those cases that will stick with us, but." Morgan stopped, tearing his eyes from the road. "I think this is going to end well. I don't know why it's just a gut feeling. Things are gonna be different."
"Thanks."
Soon enough they arrived at the address, it was cliche, most definitely a psychic's place.
As they clambered out and moved to go knock the door opened to a warm woman. She looked at them and looked around them before smiling, a soft southern drawl coming out of her mouth.
"Agents, come on in."
Morgan raised an eyebrow, turning to Reid who gave him an awkward tight-lipped expression before following. The elder man huffed a laugh and walked in.
"You know fifty-seven per cent of Americans believe in ESP, most under the age of sixty-five but still quite a staggering percentage," Reid informed Morgan.
"Well, I'm part of the forty-three per cent. "
"Of course you are, Agent Morgan, Chicago boy thing huh?" Missouri peeped, handing him a cup of coffee.
"How did you?" He was cut off as she began.
"You're here about Belle, aren't you?"
Now, this lady was suspicious, Morgan was forming theories in his head.
"Boy I did not hurt a hair on that girl's head, try and accuse me of it and I'll whack you with a spoon." The woman snapped.
"I didn't!" He said defensively, raising his voice slightly.
"You were thinkin' about it."
Spencer cracked a smile, laughing lightly at the look of disbelief on the agents face.
"Heh, Ma'am, what do you know about Belle?" The younger man asked, sitting on the sofa.
"Belle, she was a good kid. Met her idiot of a father when she was seven, her mother passed away and the girl managed to track him down."
A look was shared. "So you know a lot about her childhood?" Spencer said in an excited manner.
"Yes, I saw her not too long ago, maybe a year ago. We got to talking, she's an amazing kid."
"Can you tell us about her? Why did she come in contact?"
Missouri sighed. "Settle in, it's a bit long."
*5 years ago, Lawrence Kansas, with the Winchesters.*
A young girl watched as her father and uncle argued in the front of the Impala.
"Come on kiddo!" Dean called to her, she sighed, placing her book to the side and exited the car.
She was shorter and adorable. She had been dressed in a white shirt and jeans, matched with small black boots and a leather jacket. Her long obsidian hair was swept into a ponytail, freckles dotting her cheeks. The most striking feature was her candy apple green eyes, which she, of course, had gotten from her father.
They walked to a house that had flashing letters and looked quite homey.
A round woman was ushering a man out, a smile present on her face.
" All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The man thanks her and she closes the front door behind him.
"Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener." She informed the three that watched her.
"Why didn't you tell him?" Her Dad queries.
" People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." Missouri stated.
"Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day." Belle watched and Dean pulled her behind him protectively.
"Well, lemme look at ya."She laughs."Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She points a finger at Dean."And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." Then her attention moved to the child nestled behind the man.
"You must be Belle, it's nice to meet you, you live up to your name." Missouri smiled at the blush that covered her face, then she buried she eyes in the crook of her father's back.
Dean glares at her while Sam smirks.
"Sam."She grabs his hand.
"Oh, honey...I'm sorry about your girlfriend." She continued ignoring the boy's shock. "And your father –- he's missin'?"
*Present Day, Lawrence Kansas, with Spencer and Derek.*
"They came because John Winchester was missing?" Reid asked, leaning forward.
"Yes, they found him, but he died soon after."
"Wow..." Reid trailed.
"Those boys have had a hard life."
"They're suspected of killing dozens of people," Morgan informed her.
"I'm not defending them by any means." She answered.
"You said Belle was here a year ago?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
*One year ago, Lawrence Kansas, With Missouri Moseley*
Missouri heard the roaring of the motorcycle, knowing who it was immediately.
She made her way to the door, looking out at not one but two people on the contraption.
One was Belle, her demeaning look obvious, freckles even more prominent in the light.
The second, she didn't know.
She was older than Belle, her cinnamon skin soaked up the sun, blue eyes flashed out as if staring at your soul, strands of hair curled tightly.
They made their way to the door, in an unnatural sync, the unknown girl looked like she was ready to jump at anyone that was going to harm Belle, and Belle just looked tired.
It wasn't just an 'I haven't slept because I was on my phone all night' tired. It was a mature tired. Ageing her young complexion and draining the light in her face.
Missouri opened the door before they reached it smiling when she saw Belle before her.
"Missouri." Came the delighted greeting.
"Oh, dear Belle, come inside! Your friend too, I've been expecting you."
"I bet you have, this is Jaibrian."
Jaibrian nodded awkwardly to the psychic.
They soon were sat on the couch.
"Look, Missouri, I need to know. Is there such thing as-"
*Present Day, Lawrence Kansas, with Spencer and Derek*
"Such a thing as what?" Morgan asked when the woman cut herself off.
"That isn't important. You boys are gonna get a call on your self-phone."
Reid went to insist on the question but was interrupted by his phone.
"Reid? Yeah, we're on our way."
"What's going on?" Morgan asked.
"We got another video, addressed to us this time.
"Us?"
"Yeah, Hotch wants us back now."
They moved to get up, pulling on discarded jackets.
"Boys? You get that girl back safe. You hear?" She told them sternly.
"We will."
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."
― Albert Einstien