Heaven And Hell{Sequel to "Born to Be a Hunter"}

Djinn

I woke up the next morning at around 6:30. Man, I was starving. I looked in the phone book and found some diner near my motel. Once I got there, I saw that it was pretty packed, but I was seated pretty quickly at the counter.

"Agent Leopard? Good morning." I heard from across the room. Ruby wore a waitress uniform and a broad smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Simpson." I laughed as she poured a customer another cup of coffee.

"Please, call me Ruby." She said, putting the coffee pot down and picking up a note pad. "Can I get you anything?"

"Two eggs over easy, uncut toast, with a side of bacon, and a glace of apple juice." I ordered, handing her the menu.

"Sorry, we're all out of bacon. Is sausage alright?" she asked, apologetically.

"No bacon?! Shit, I'm outta here." I joked, but she seemed generally concerned. "That was a joke."

"Oh," she laughed, nervously. "Right." She looked at a clock, wrote on her notepad frantically, then rushed back to the kitchen. I saw her walk out the back, I reached into my leather jacket and cocked my gun. I was suspicious, so I followed her and walked out behind the diner. She had stopped and was trying to pull out a cigarette, her hands clumsy and quivering.

"Ruby?" I asked, reaching my hand out to put it on her shoulder. She jumped and turned around. Her skin was covered in blue tattoos, now. "Where did those come from?"

"You shouldn't've followed me, Agent." Her voice wavered, then a blue-tattooed had grabbed my bare arm. I don't remember anything after that.

Dean was on the road. He knew he needed to help Jack on this case. She wasn't as experienced with djinn as he was and he wasn't willing to let her be killed by this monster.

He'd been worried about Jack ever since she drove away and he was feeling worse and worse as he passed town after town. He and his daughter had a spotty relationship to say the least, but it didn't mean he didn't care. If only she could see that. Since Dean didn't really get to be in Jack's early life, he wanted to be in her present one as much as possible. He wanted to be a better father than his own. Much better.

Jack had once told her father that she grew up with the concept of hunting just like he did, but unlike Dean, she wanted to become a hunter. He wished he had that choice when he was younger, but now it didn't matter. Jack liked to hunt. She said it took her mind off of emotional crap she always avoided. She kept it in . . . just like her old man.

The instrumental intro of Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water" started to play and Dean immediately reached for his phone.

"Hello?" he asked, switching hands on the steering wheel and holding the phone to his ear. He made a left onto a highway and continued down the old asphalted strip.

"It's Sam. Have you gotten to Jack?" Sam asked as he -or what sounded like- walked down stairs.

"No. Not yet. My ETA is going to be around eight tonight." Dean sighed. "I should have left earlier."

"It's not your fault that she stormed out like that. She a teenager . . . and a Winchester. Do you remember what you were like at that age?" his little brother asked, chuckling a little.

"Yeah. I was a reckless bastard with a sharp tongue and a give-'em-hell-attitude. Your point?" Dean beamed, forgetting that Sam couldn't see him.

"My point is that she's no different than you." Sam assured his older brother. Sam knew how scared Dean was, but he knew his brother would never admit it.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Dean shut off his phone and just kept his focus on the road.

I woke up in a bed with a thick, blue comforter and multiple fluffy pillows. I opened my eyes and saw a room full of 1D posters.

"What the Hell?" I said, unable to say anything else. I lifted my hands and reached for my long hair. I got out of bed and walked to a vanity. I looked into the mirror and saw that my hair was dirty-blond, my eyes were light green, my lips were slimmer, and . . . I was fourteen again.

"Son of a bitch." I whispered. I shook my head, "No. This is a dream. A sick, sick dream." I pinched myself and closed my eyes. "Wake up, Jack. Wake. Up." But it didn't work. There was a knock on the door and I instinctively reached for my knife in my waist band, but it wasn't there.

"Jackline? Are you up?" Dean's voice came from the other side of the door. I didn't recognize it, though; it had less grit in it. The door opened slowly and he walked in wearing a black V-neck and faded jeans as usual. "Good morning, baby."

I smiled, "Hey, Dean." He walked closer and crossed his arms.

"You want breakfast? Your mother made eggs and bacon: your favorite." He laughed, swinging his foot over the other.

"My mother?" I asked. Small footfalls started up a staircase, but I didn't know that there was someone else in the house.

"Is she awake?" called a soothing voice came from the staircase and a woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was blonde and her eyes were a chocolate brown. She walked up behind Dean and slipped an arm around one of his.

"Morning, baby girl." She said, her smile spreading to her eyes.

"Jo." I breathed.