Missouri should have knocked on wood when the thought that things are going well crossed her mind. She thought her biggest worry was getting Dean to agree to take Xander along with them, and though he hadn't agreed yet, she thought he might be finally wearing down.

As far as she was concerned, things could be a lot worse. And like in any clichéd movie, where simply saying it out loud seemed to make the situation manifest, a jinx was formed.

Little did she know that Dean Winchester's stubborn streak was about to become the least of her problems, because Dean's stubbornness didn't hold a candle to the whirlwind that was a Sam Winchester tantrum. A cynic would have said that she should have seen this coming, and she lamented that, while foresight could be helpful, hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Missouri and Dean had continued to argue the merits of having Xander as a traveling companion while they washed the dishes. They had just finished drying the last plate and pulled the plug to drain the sink, when the crap hit the fan, so to speak. The sound of the front door slamming open echoed into the kitchen, and Missouri knew well before she saw him that she was in big trouble.

Dean's instincts kicked in, and his body tensed with alertness at the sudden noise.

Sam marched into the kitchen, his face lit with the fury of a hurricane, and shouted at Missouri, "How the hell could you keep something like this from us?" Xander followed after, hot on Sam's heels, with a vague look of confused guilt in his eyes.

"Sam, what the hell is going on?" Dean asked before Missouri could attempt a defense. When Sam had left, he'd been upset with Dean, and now he'd returned furious with Missouri, confusing Dean with the sudden shift of focus.

"All that time we were here, you knew how worried we were and you didn't say anything. Hell, you practically lied right to our faces! All that faked sympathy about how our dad was missing." Sam's words were like the sharp edge of a knife, bursting out of him with such force that his shoulders were nearly shaking with anger.

Dean looked at Missouri, and understanding dawned in his eyes. Missouri didn't say anything, but the guilt on her face spoke volumes. Dean's expression turned stony, but instead of saying something to Missouri, he turned to Xander and said, "Hey, Xander, could you give us a few minutes?" It must have been a strain to get the words out so evenly.

Xander's eyes flew back and forth between the room's occupants, searching for some clue as to what was going on. He attempted an easy shrug which he only barely managed to pull off and said, "Sure, I'll…uh…I'll just wait outside." He turned around and moved to leave the kitchen, sending a concerned glance back over his shoulder as he went.

When he was gone, Dean looked between Sam and Missouri and asked, "Does somebody want to tell me exactly what the hell is going on here?"

"Dad was here," Sam said, looking briefly at Dean before turning his burning gaze back to Missouri. "Back when we were here helping Jenny, Dad was here too. Why the hell didn't you tell us?" Sam asked her.

Missouri held his gaze, "Your father didn't want you to know."

"Why not?" Sam's eyes flashed, and he threw his arms up in an angry, questioning gesture.

Missouri had asked John that same question and had wanted to slap him silly for his unreasonable stubbornness. "I don't know what goes on in that head of his. You'd have to ask him."

Sam's rage seemed to boil over at that, and he quickly advanced on Missouri, "Well we can't, can we? We don't even know where the hell he is!"

"Hey!" Dean shouted, quickly stepping between the two and pushing Sam back out of Missouri's face. "Just calm down, man."

Sam shoved Dean back, "What the hell do you mean calm down. Haven't you heard anything I've said?"

"Yeah, I heard, but you need to take a deep breath and step it down notch. And you sure as hell don't need to be bitching at Missouri about this. Dad wouldn't have asked her not to tell us if he didn't think it was important that we not know."

"What the hell?" Sam scoffed humorlessly, shooting Dean a confused, betrayed look. "Are you defending him?"

"All I'm saying is that Dad knows what he's doing and if he didn't want us to know he was here, there must have been a damn good reason." John wasn't even present, and yet Dean was still playing mediator between his father and his brother.

Sam brought a hand up and momentarily pinched the bridge of his nose before giving Dean a look of absolute incomprehension. "We've been searching for Dad for months, Dean! We didn't know if he was in some kind of trouble…hell, for all we knew he could've been dead. What the hell kind of reason could he have for not at least letting us know that he's alive. Especially with everything that happened in that house while we were here. And why didn't you tell us?" he asked, turning renewed anger on Missouri.

"Maybe I should have," Missouri admitted. "Lord knows I wanted to, but once your father gets something in his head…" she trailed off. "He thought he might be on to something, and he wanted to keep you boys out of harm's way until he knew more."

"That's assuming he ever had any intention of telling us. Meanwhile, we're running around, wasting our time on some wild goose chase, and he's keeping us completely in the dark! We have just as much right to hunt this thing as he does."

"Dad will let us in on this when the time is right," Dean told him firmly. "In the meantime, we still have a job to do."

"No, Dean, the only person who thinks this is just a job is you. It's a hell of a lot more than that to me."

Dean's eyes flared with righteous indignation, and he stepped in closer to Sam. "You think I don't have just as much invested in this as you? This is our family. You, me, and Dad. I'm in this just as much as you are, and in case you've forgotten, you're not the only one who's ever lost someone."

Sam's hands clinched into tight fists, and for a tense moment Missouri thought he was going to take a swing at his brother, but then the air rushed out of his lungs in a shaky breath, and he ran his hands over his face. When he pulled his hands away, his expression had fallen to one of defeat. "You know what? Just forget it," his voice came out rough and strained, and he waved his arms dismissively before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Missouri and Dean heard the front door open and close, and Dean turned to her. His expression was unreadable, and he simply stared at her for a long moment before turning and following in the direction Sam had gone.

Not long after, Missouri heard the front door open and close again, and she moved to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat down heavily. Propping an elbow on the table, she leaned her head in her hand and closed her eyes. "John Winchester," she muttered bitterly. "Wherever you are, your boys need you."

*****

Sam was moving so fast that he was halfway down Missouri's front walk before Xander even registered that he'd come out the front door. Xander stood from his seat on the Missouri's front steps and called after him, "Hey, are you all right?"

Sam just waved him off and continued on. The front door opened again, and Xander turned around to see Dean. "Should we go after him?" Xander asked, jerking a thumb in Sam's direction.

"No," Dean looked to where Sam was now making his way down the street and shook his head. "He'll be back once he's cooled down a bit." Dean's eyes continued to trail after Sam, and Xander shrugged, sitting back down on the steps.

After a few minutes Xander looked up at Dean, whose eyes were still focused presumably on Sam somewhere in the distance, and cautiously voiced, "So, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess I'm not exactly seeing the big picture here."

Dean looked down at him, and Xander got the distinct feeling that he was being measured up, like he was weighing Xander's trustworthiness. Just when Xander was sure Dean was going to stonewall him again, the older man surprised him by sitting down on the steps next to him.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Did Sam tell you anything about our dad?" he asked, looking at Xander.

Xander shook his head, and Dean said, "Well, let's just say that Sam and our Dad rarely see eye-to-eye on anything. When Sam decided to head off to college, Dad got pissed. He thought Sam should stick close to the family."

Xander gave a surprised breath. "My dad would be happy to get me out of the house. Well, I mean, my step-dad I guess," Xander corrected, not really sure what to call Tony anymore. There was Tony, for whom the term dad had never really been a fitting title, and now there was John, whom Xander hadn't even met yet and, therefore, didn't feel particularly comfortable labeling him as dad either. Basically, it left him with two father figures, neither of which seemed capable of filling the role at the moment.

Dean gave him a considering look, and Xander once again got the feeling that that Dean was testing him or trying to figure him out. "The two of you didn't get along?" Dean asked carefully.

"He always kind of treated me like a stray that you just can't get rid of because you fed it once and then it wouldn't go away. Willow says my puppy-dog pout would get me almost anywhere," Xander joked, missing the way Dean's jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.

"He sounds like a jerk, no offense," Dean remarked.

"Yeah," Xander shrugged a shoulder. "But at least with all this," he said, referring to the revelation of his true parentage, "it makes more sense now."

Dean just shook his head, and Xander remembered Dean's story, bringing their attention back to the original subject by saying, "So what happened when Sam left?"

Dean got back on track and continued, "Some words were exchanged, and basically, Dad told Sam if he left, he shouldn't come back. They haven't spoken to each other since."

Xander brow furrowed in confusion. "But Missouri said-"

"Yeah," Dean cut in, bitterness tingeing his voice. "See, several months ago, Dad kind of went off on his own, and I wasn't really sure what had happened to him. That's when I went and got Sam, and we started looking for him."

Xander was stunned. No wonder Sam was so volatile; first his girlfriend dies, and then his dad, whom he hasn't spoken to in years, goes missing. "So, if you guys didn't come to Lawrence together last time…" Xander trailed off, trying to fit the last few pieces together.

"Dad was here, Sam and I just didn't know about it."

"And Missouri knew," Xander stated, finally getting the whole picture, "but she didn't tell you guys."

"Bingo," Dean said as Xander summed up the situation. "Add it all together and shake it up, and you've got one pissed off Sammy."

"What about you?" Xander asked. Dean regarded him with a raised brow. "I mean, are you, um…okay?" Xander asked awkwardly.

"There's something we need to get straight right now," Dean said firmly. He stared at Xander seriously, and Xander got the sick feeling that he had somehow walked into an out-of-bounds zone without meaning to. Dean waited a beat, then said stoically, "I don't do chick flick moments."

Xander blinked at him, a few seconds passing before the words finally sunk in, and he gave a relieved snort. It would seem his newfound half-brother was a bit of a smart ass, but Xander had to grudgingly admit he was already starting to like the guy.

"Then I should probably warn you," Xander said, "that both of my best friends are chicks."

"Hey!" Dean raised his hands and attempted to set the record straight, "I didn't say I had anything against the chicks themselves. Now," Dean clapped his hands his hand then rubbed them together in a mischievous fashion, "tell me about these girls of yours."

Xander eyed him warily for a moment before finally sharing. "Well, I already mentioned Willow-"

"Who's pretty," Dean remember.

"And taken," Xander warned.

Dean shrugged, and Xander continued, "And then there's Buffy-"

"Buffy?" Dean burst out laughing, once again cutting Xander off. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

"I wouldn't ever mention that to her if I were you," Xander advised.

"Why?" Dean asked. "She's not built like a linebacker or something, is she?"

"No, she's rather short and slim, but she can pack a hell of a punch," Xander warned.

"Mmm…a firecracker, huh? I like girls with some attitude."

"You don't know the half of it," Xander muttered under his breath.

Xander suddenly noticed that he still had Missouri's mail in his hands, and he held the envelopes up and said, "I guess I better take these inside to Missouri."

Dean nodded at him, and Xander stood to go into the house. He found Missouri sitting quietly at the kitchen table and laid her mail down in front of her. Xander paused, considering, then said, "I'm sorry if I let the cat out of the bag just now."

Missouri looked up at him with reassurance in her eyes, "You don't have any reason to be sorry, you didn't know. And, besides, that secret was bound to come out sooner or later."

Xander worried his bottom lip with his teeth and shuffled his feet. He still wasn't clear on what was going on between Sam, Dean, and John, but he wasn't sure if he should pry.

"Well, are you going to stand there all day? Or are you going to sit down and ask what you want to know?" Missouri finally pushed.

Xander smiled and pulled out a chair. "The thing is, I'm not really sure what to ask. I guess I just don't really get what's going on between them. I mean, why wouldn't their dad want them to know where he is?"

Missouri grimaced, "Well, I'm afraid there's not a lot I can tell you. It's not really my place to tell. John has his own way of doing things, and can't nobody tell him different. Winchester men can be as stubborn as mules, and John Winchester is the most stubborn mule of the whole lot." Xander laughed, and Missouri looked crossly at him, "What are you laughing about? The stubborn gene didn't miss you either."

Her tone was scolding, but instead of feeling repentant he felt happily included.

"Well, I hope Dean isn't giving you a hard time," Missouri commented.

"Hey," Dean called out, walking into the kitchen at just that moment (which is probably why Missouri made the remark in the first place). "Give me a little credit. I can be nice guy sometimes."

Missouri regarded him disbelievingly. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Dean thumped Xander on the shoulder and prodded, "Tell her."

"Oh, yeah," Xander backed him up. "He was a totally decent guy for at least a full five minutes."

Missouri gave Dean a gloating smirk, and Dean turned to Xander with a betrayed expression, placing a hand over his heart. "That hurts, dude. You're causing me some real pain here."

Missouri looked at her watch to find the time was quickly nearing noon. "Sam better hurry back if he intends to get any lunch."

"Sam's not likely to come back till he's damn well ready," Dean informed them.

"What are we having?" Xander asked. Like any young man, he was always ready to eat.

"Dean's going to fix some sandwiches," Missouri said, drafting Dean without bothering to ask him first.

There was a chirping noise from Dean's pocket, and he dug his cell out as he said, "Woman, why are you always harassing me?"

"Because you usually deserve it," Missouri told him. "And if you don't, then it's only because you haven't gotten around to doing something to deserve it yet."

When Dean didn't offer up the expected comeback, Missouri and Xander turned to look at him. He was staring at the display on his phone with an engrossed frown.

"What is it?" Xander asked.

"It's a text message," Dean said absently.

"Who's it from?" Xander asked.

Dean didn't answer, instead he looked up at Missouri and asked, "Do you a U.S. map?"

Missouri nodded, went to retrieve the map, and came back seconds later. She handed it to Dean, who took it and spread it out on the kitchen table. His fingers traced over the map's perpendicular lines, coming to rest at some point in the southeastern states. "Huh," was all Dean said, which didn't really clear up anything for Xander.

The younger man looked to Missouri. She didn't look quite as lost as he did, so either she knew more about what was going on than he did or her psychic link giving her some insight that Xander wasn't privy to. Either way, he was extremely curious. "What's going on?"

"It looks like Sammy and I just found our next job," Dean told him.

"That's what the text message was about?" Xander asked.

Dean nodded, "We've got a location."

"So who sent the message?"

Dean sighed and gave a slight shrug. "Sometimes Sam and I get coordinates from our dad…places where we can find jobs."

Xander's eyes widened in surprise, "Is he going to meet you there?"

Dean gave his head a slight shake. "I don't know. He's done this once before…and he didn't show then. I guess we won't know this time till we get there."

"So I guess you'll be leaving. Got room for an extra traveler?" Xander asked, trying to keep the hopefulness from his voice.

Dean glanced up at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the map. "Not this trip, Xander," his words were apologetic, but firm.

"Dean Winchester," Missouri began, her tone making it evident that she was just gearing up for a long rant, but Dean cut her off with a stern voice.

"Missouri, we've been over this. The answer is no."

Xander laughed nervously, trying to stall any fighting on his behalf. "Hey, no worries. I've got places to go, oddities to see."

"Mule," Missouri muttered at Dean.

Dean's jaw clenched, but didn't say anything in return. Without looking at either of them, he folded up the map, stuffed it in his pocket, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Xander. It isn't over till the fat lady sings," Missouri advised.

The corner of Xander's mouth quirked up in a half-smile, but there was no humor in it. Xander couldn't help but feel that the only chance he had of finding his real father was slipping away from him.

*****

Sam had set off with no particular destination in mind and didn't stop walking until he found a small park, several blocks from Missouri's house. He dropped onto a park bench, hunched over till his elbows rested on his knees, and leaned his head into his hands. He focused on his breathing, trying to expel his anger with every exhale.

They'd been on the road for about seven months now, and Sam was beginning to feel like he was at his breaking point. Dean kept telling him that he needed to have patience and stop carrying his anger around like a security blanket before it destroyed him, but the image of Jessica, pinned to the ceiling and engulfed in flames, was always in his mind's eye, and he just couldn't shake it. Sometimes she even haunted his waking moments, not that Sam would begrudge her that. He would see her standing on a street corner, or sometimes, just out of the corner of his eye, he would see a brief flash of white gown and long blonde hair. She was never far from his thoughts.

His anger was his other constant companion. It built up in him like a bonfire and raged until it nearly consumed everything around him. He was angry with the thing that killed Jess and his mom, angry with himself, with his father, with Dean, with Missouri. He was starting to run out of people to be angry with, and destroying random ghosts and demons just wasn't enough anymore. Given enough time, every fire will burn itself out, and the fury that burned in Sam's blood was running dangerously low on fuel. And when Sam wasn't consumed with anger, he felt hollow and tired. Dean wanted Sam to let his anger go, but Sam had to hold on because once the anger was gone, he would have nothing left. Even guilt and rage were better than feeling completely empty.

As the minutes ticked by, Sam could feel his anger subsiding. The relief he felt was short-lived, however, as he felt the dissipating anger being replaced by a cold numbness that was becoming alarmingly too familiar these days. Sam was almost afraid that if he completely let go of his anger, he'd stop feeling altogether. The only thing driving him was finding and destroying Jessica's killer, and Sam worried about what would become of him when they finally accomplished that.

Sam ran his hands through his hair and sighed. The day wasn't even half way over, and already he felt exhausted. His sleepless nights took a daily toll on Sam's strength. He could barely remember what it was like not to feel tired down to his very bones.

After another ten or fifteen minutes had passed, he pushed himself off the park bench and slowly began plodding his way back to Missouri's house. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, avoiding the yards of happy families where children chased each other and the homes full of people who could enjoy the sun's light without worrying about the monsters that would come out when the sun set. His return trip took longer than his exodus had, but eventually Sam once again found himself in front of Missouri's gate.

Dean was sitting on the steps of Missouri's house, and as Sam made his way down the front walk, Dean stood up to meet him. "We need to talk," Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked with a tired sigh. Dean looked at him as though were reconsidering what he was about to say in light up Sam's almost apathetic mood. "Just say it."

Without further preamble, Dean said, "I got a text message from Dad. Coordinates."

"Like how he sent us to Lost Creek?" Sam asked.

"Or maybe he's going to meet us there this time," Dean suggested.

"Or maybe," Sam contradicted, "this is his way of keeping us occupied while he tracks down the thing that killed Mom and Jess." The words should have come out angry, but Sam could only manage to instill them with weary frustration.

Dean looked at Sam and frowned. "The way I figure it, we've got two options: we could try searching for Dad though I've got a feeling Dad's not going to be found until he wants to be found, or we can follow these coordinates and maybe help some people. Now, you're the college boy; which one do you think sounds more productive?"

"What about Xander?" Sam asked. Sam didn't know yet where this new relation was going to fit in, but he had to admit that Xander had perked his curiosity. And this was the first time in a long while that Sam had shown interest in something that wasn't about hunting or vengeance. Sam didn't know yet if he wanted to pursue any kind of relationship, but he wasn't ready to dismiss the possibility yet either.

Dean looked at him as if he'd gone off track, "What about him?"

"Are we just going to leave him here?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't see what choice we have."

Sam thought a moment, "Why can't we just take him along?"

"And the job?" Dean asked.

"Maybe we could tell him," Sam suggested. "And if there's a chance that Dad will be there…don't you think Xander should be there too?"

Dean pursed his lips and looked at the ground for a long moment. When he looked back up at Sam his expression was serious, and he spoke in a calm, quiet voice. "Okay, let's really think about this for minute. Say we tell him, and by some miracle he doesn't think we're completely nuts. We're not talking about fairies and unicorns here, we're talking about making nightmares a reality for him. Once he knows about this stuff, he'll never be able to go back. Are you really ready to force that on him?"

Sam dropped his eyes to the ground, already knowing that Dean was right. Sure, they'd told people the truth before, but it was always in circumstances where the situation had forced their hand. There was an obvious choice here, and was it really fair to just arbitrarily change someone's life when it wasn't really necessary?

The front door opened, and Missouri leaned out the door. "You boys better get in here and make yourselves a sandwich." She shut the door back.

Sam took a shaky breath before looking back up at Dean and thickly forcing out his next words, "I don't think I can I do this anymore." Dean looked startled, either at the strain in Sam's voice or the words themselves, but Sam continued anyway, "If you want to go to these coordinates, go ahead. But I can't go with you this time." His words came out in a simple, matter-of-fact sort of way, without any anger, but Sam still had to look away from the pained expression on Dean's face.

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered before moving past Dean, up the front steps, and into the house.

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