On the long drive from Oregon to Kansas, John couldn't help but think this might be a distraction more than anything. It had been a long time since they had had any leads on the yellow-eyed demon. Hunting was good: it saved lives, it kept them strong and sharp, and with each hunt, they learned more. When it came to the final fight, they would be ready. But still, it had been a long time since they had made any real progress toward the ultimate goal.

John wasn't worried about Dean. Kid could wrap up the case on his own, and a little ghost hunt in Kansas didn't require two people, even if it was at a billionaire's house. They'd meet up after this was over. If Dean needed to go somewhere, he could grab a rental car. The credit cards would still be good.

John wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but the size of the mansion made him whistle. Smallville really was a cow town, and it smelled like it, but the mansion looked like someone had shipped a European castle out to the middle of nowhere.

He was stopped at multiple checkpoints before he was ushered into an underground parking garage, and then a guard led him up to the mansion itself. John left his baggage in the car, other than small bag with a few items he'd need for the hunt itself.

They reached a large double-door entrance into a lavishly decorated library, and a man in a suit with long, wild hair came down the steps from a desk to hold out a hand. "You must be John Winchester."

"In the flesh." John shook his hand.

"Lionel Luthor. Thank you so much for coming out. I assure you, I intend to generously compensate you for your time." He waved away the guard, who closed the door behind himself.

"That won't be necessary," John said. "Can you tell me anything more about what you've seen?"

"Well, to be frank, I've only caught glimpses. It's her voice I remember most of all."

"What is she saying? Is she threatening you?"

"Well, yes. Blaming me for her death. But... she died of a heart condition."

John frowned. "Lionel, often times when spirits are tied to this earth, it's because they feel they have unfinished business. Is there anything that could be keeping her here?" It wasn't typically the first question he would ask, but given the vague nature of the haunting and the fact that she hadn't killed anybody yet, it was worth having more information about where and how she might strike.

Lionel sighed. "It could be any number of things. Our second son died when he was an infant, our firstborn son was never the same."

"Is it possible she's here because of them?"

"Something to do with my parenting?"

"It's worth considering every option."

Lionel smirked. "My oldest would tell you as much. I always pushed him, to keep him strong and safe. But... you know how sons are."

"That, I do." John still lost sleep over Sam, but at the end of the day, he knew he had done the best he could. He found himself sympathizing with Lionel—maybe the news coverage hadn't done LuthorCorp justice. "Where is your wife buried?"

"She was cremated."

"Did you keep any of her with you? A lock of hair, maybe?"

"No."

John swore under his breath. On one hand, that meant she was likely tied to an object, which would prevent her from traveling too much. On the other, it meant they had a lot of work to do figuring out what that object was. "When do you usually see her? At night?"

"Well, yes."

"That's typical. Listen, I'm going to scope out the mansion for EMF, and I'm going to look for any signs of other supernatural activity. It sounds like a pretty ordinary ghost to me, but we want to rule out any other possibilities."

"Of course."

"Typically, when I'm working a case, I find a local motel, but tonight I'd like to stake out. It might be advisable for you to clear out for the night."

"Leave you here alone?"

"This is what I do."

"I don't think that will work, John. I've left the mansion in the care of servants, she doesn't appear to them. Her quarrel is with me."

John winced. He didn't love using people as bait, but if it was the only option…

"I've prepared a guest room for you," Lionel said. "I'm sure it will be more comfortable than a hotel, anyway."

John nodded. Given the size and smell of the town, he didn't doubt that. "I'll get unpacked."

The first thing Dean did was to try every phone number he knew for his dad. Nothing got through, which only increased his dread. He mostly knew Lionel as the man who had abused his best friend, but reading between the lines in the news told a different story, and Lex told an even graver one. The question wasn't whether Lionel was up to no good—it was only the scale.

As soon as Dean knew he wouldn't be able to get through, he called for a few extra days on the rental car, and he took off.

Not toward Kansas. That would be next. Instead, he took a detour. He headed for California.

Maybe Dean could have handled this alone. It wouldn't be the first hunt he'd ever been on alone. He'd have Lex to back him up, along with Clark and Chloe.

But Clark could be easily taken out by Kryptonite, which Lionel could know about by now. Lex was too close to the situation emotionally—and he was a researcher, not a hunter. And Chloe was a kid, like Clark but without powers. Dean wanted another hunter on his side. Besides, Sam would want to be brought into this. It was their father's safety at stake. Even Sam would care enough to want to be in on this.

Maybe Dean didn't need Sam. But maybe, when it came down to it, Dean was just searching for a reason to pull Sam back in. At the end of the day, he'd missed his brother.

Dean didn't have to ask around to know which dorm was Sam's. He and their dad had driven by it a million times to make sure Sam was still okay. He didn't bother with knocking, either—the drive had been long, and it was the middle of the night. He picked the lock and walked inside.

Sam's reflexes were sharper than he'd expected them to be, after years away from hunting. Sam attacked him in the dark, and after a few exchanged blows, Dean pinned him.

"Whoa," Dean teased. "Easy, tiger."

Recognition and horror filled Sam's eyes as he panted on the floor. "Dean?"

Dean laughed.

"You scared the crap out of me," Sam panted.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

One blow later, they'd switched positions, Sam pinning Dean.

Dean just laughed again. "Or not. Get off me."

Sam helped him up. "Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"

The lights flicked on, and a gorgeous blond girl in a tank top and underwear stepped into the room. "Sam?"

Dean couldn't take his eyes off of her. Maybe he'd been wrong about this whole college thing.

"Jess. Hey." Sam turned to Dean. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait, your brother Dean?"

Dean took a step toward her. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on."

"No, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." He stepped back. "Anyway, I've gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But nice meeting you." He gave her his best winning smile.

Sam and Jessica shared a long look, then Sam said, "No."

Dean glared. So Sam was going to do this.

"No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay." Dean could work with those terms. It shouldn't be too hard to convey the importance of why he'd come. "Um, Dad's on a hunting trip alone."

"Yeah, so? He hunts alone all the time, he'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean looked down, then back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip. Alone." He looked Sam right in the eyes. "With Lionel Luthor."

Sam stared at him for a long moment. Dean just held his stare.

Finally, Sam broke the silence:

"Jess, excuse us."