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

Like Father, Like Daughter, A Plan In Action

After finding nothing at the motel, Dean decided to head into town to see if anyone's seen his daughter. The first place he went was a diner about two miles away from the motel. It was very crowded and there was only one waitress on duty, rushing from table to table. She didn't look like she was out of her element, though. Dean pulled a picture of Jack from his wallet and walked up to the waitress, not caring about her busy hands.

"Excuse me." Dean interrupted, tapping the woman on the shoulder. She turned quickly, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, placing down a plate on someone's table.

"I'm looking for this girl." Dean said, displaying the picture to her so she could see it properly. "Have you seen her, by any chance?"

She shook her head almost before he asked the question, "Sorry. Haven't seen her." She walked away speedily, nearly dropping all her trays. Dean was suspicious. She was conning a professional conman. She was hiding something.

The waitress came back, her hands empty now, and a towel over her shoulder. "Is she in any trouble?" Dean shook his head, pulling out his fake badge.

"She's a relative of mine and we are very worried about her." Dean said, looking down at the picture. He could still hear her voice and see her smile, and he hoped that the last memory he'd have with her wasn't of them fighting.

"I'm very sorry. But," she started, seeming almost sympathetic. "But I really haven't seen her."

Dean nodded, "Okay, thank you." Dean put away his badge and his picture, walking out of the diner and walking around the back. He walked through smoke from the kitchen and spotted a couple of storage units just a few hundred feet away. One was smaller, but the other one could fit at least two cars, one in front of the other.

Dean turned the corner of the diner, but the waitress started toward the storage units. He fell back behind the building and decided to come back at nightfall with the sliver knife covered in lamb's blood to kill the bastard that took Jack.

As Dean sat down in his car, he pulled out his phone and dialed his brother's number. It rang a few times and Dean didn't think Sam would pick up.

"Dean. I was just about to call you." Sam answered, panting. "I literally just got in the car."

"I'm good. I found where Jack is." Dean sighed, pulling out his daughter's picture and looking at it.

"Well, why haven't you stormed the place?" Sam asked, nearly yelling into the phone. "You know what will happen if you wait too long."

"I know, I know. I'm gonna wait until sundown, though." Dean sighed, the engine turned over. "It's guarded. And if I go in now, they might just . . . slit her throat."

"Yeah, but I bet the djinn are getting high on her demon blood." Sam chuckled, Dean pulling out of the parking lot.

"Okay, that's just gross." Dean sounded disgusted. "Hey, uh, how's the other kids?"

Sam laughed a little, "Kat, the witch, went to Louisiana. Apparently, she's Cajun and guess who was her great-grandfather?"

"Who?" Dean asked, but then, an answer popped into his head. "Benny?" Sam laughed a little on the other end.

"Yep. And the angel, Mathias, yeah he's going stir-crazy." Dean's brother continued and Dean started to grimace while making a right onto the turn-pike.

"I'll bet. Missing his girlfriend, right about now." Dean laughed. "Well, he ain't gonna get within two feet of her if he wants to keep his batteries."

"Dean. You realized Jack's nineteen years old, now. She's a grown woman, an adult. She's old enough to buy her own house."

"So?" Dean asked, not seeing where Sam was going with that.

"'So,' you're telling me you weren't . . . out-and-about at that age?" Sam asked, rhetorically.

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying this is different. She's my daughter, Sam. No one's gonna hurt her while I'm alive." Then Dean hung up, not wanting to hear anymore sass from Sam. "You've got no idea what it's like, Sammy."

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After lunch, it was pretty damn easy to get the lamb's blood. The adults were drunk off their butts in the living room and Matt was taking a nap in my room, so all I had to do was grab a silver knife from Mom's utensil box and dip in in the blood.

The adults were passed out on the couches as I slipped on Dean's leather jacket, taking the blade along with a pistol with coated silver bullets, and I headed for Matt's car.

I sat in the driver seat and started to check everything: seat, mirrors, pedals. I was about to pull off when the passenger-side door opened and Sam sat down.

"And where do you think you're going, little lady?" he asked, seeing the knife, pistol, and blood red jar in my lap. "What's going on?"

I slid my hand onto the barrel of the gun. "I'm sorry, Sam." I threw my hand and the gun at the side of his head as hard as I could and knocked him out. His body fell limp in the seat and a little blood trickled from a small cut. "But I have to set things straight."

Time to get my old Winchesters back. And I ain't going down without a fight. No way.