CHAPTER 1: Diner talk

Sitting in the dark

Shaking in a cold wind

Dying to be well

Keep trying but I'm broken

A kiss on my lips that used to thrill me

If I go another day it's gonna kill me.

It was chance.

Either that or he's the most paranoid person I've ever met. Whatever the reason, there I was grabbing a bite to eat at the smallest diner in the state, when the young man chatting with the matronly waitress at the counter muttered under his breath.

"Christo."

I flinched.

His eyes found me so fast I was too shocked to move. Who was this guy?

By the time I got over my surprise, he was standing beside me with the blade of a knife surreptitiously pressed against the back of my shoulder. I smiled.

"For a second there, I thought you were smart," I informed him sweetly, "but you're making a huge mistake if you think that knives scare me."

His eyes hardened into a dark green. "It'll be your mistake when I kill you with it, bitch."

His memories flashed through my mind. A blonde wielding a knife, stabbing a man with dark eyes in the throat, the wound glowing gold as he falls to the floor ... a man, expression fierce, stabbing a woman in the ribs from behind, again the wound glowing gold ... the same man, looking a little the worse for wear, holding a knife triumphantly before the angry blonde in a Devil's Trap ... and the same carved knife from all of these memories, falling silently from limp fingers to clatter forgotten to the polished wood floor –

His mind was closed to me abruptly.

I met his hard stare in surprise. His gaze was steely, revealing nothing, and my curiosity was piqued.

"Okay, tough guy," I conceded. "We'll do this your way." I stood up from the booth slowly and the knife disappeared, but I had no doubt it remained within easy reach.

"Smile," he bit out under his breath as we made our way towards the door.



"What?" I threw over my shoulder. He didn't answer and I followed his gaze to the waitress he'd been speaking with earlier. She was regarding us carefully. I gave her my friendliest smile. A bell rang and she turned to the pick-up window, satisfied.

As the hunter steered me into the street, I was aware of the way he towered over me and his bruising grip on my upper arm. "Careful of that grip, sasquatch."

"Shut up!" he ordered sharply, without looking at me. And, if anything, held my arm tighter.

I realized I was walking a fine line with his nonexistent patience. But, by nature, I couldn't resist testing him.

"Don't I at least get to try to explain myself?" I was starting to actually be worried. Sasquatch knew what he was doing. My arms tugged against the bindings again, but I was helpless – the Devil's Trap painted onto the floor made sure of that.

"I don't care about anything you have to say," he replied from where he leaned against the wall of the warehouse. "You're a demon. You want me dead, I want you dead." He took three steps towards me, until he was leaning over my chair threateningly. "But unlike you, I'm actually going to get what I want."

His smile scared me. For the first time I worried I wouldn't get out of this.

But there was a memory attached to something he had just said ... for a moment I caught a flash of the same man who had held the knife in the other memories –

"Well, I've had enough of this fun, time to send you home." He stepped back a little. I expected him to pull a book from somewhere, or at least a piece of paper, and start reading me an exorcism. What I didn't expect was for him to start reciting one from memory ... and for the words to burn inside of me.

"Wait! Stop! You're... making ... a mistake," I panted through the pain.

He continued chanting.

"No, really. I'm not like ... the others."

I raised my bowed head to meet his eyes. I could see in them that there would be no mercy, no reaction to my pleas. If he felt bad for what he was doing to me at all, he was locking that emotion so deep down he'd never feel it. I knew then that I was really going back.

But as our eyes were locked, I realized that with his concentration on the exorcism, I could again see into his mind. Flashes of memory assaulted me.

A young boy held a baby and ran with him from a burning house ... Two young boys in a motel room alone, the older making dinner, getting the younger ready for bed, holding him through the nightmares ... Brother ... Protector ...



... The man pulling his grown-up younger brother from a room awash in flames while a young woman burned on the ceiling ... A vision of a dark demon above a baby's crib, letting blood fall from his wrist into the baby's mouth ... The man holding his brother, Sasquatch – Sammy—as a vision of death tore through his head ... Two brothers riding in a car, salt guns and holy water in the trunk ... A dark, empty town and a figure melting out of the darkness and stabbing the younger brother in the back ... his older brother catching him as he fell to his knees ...

... A graveyard and a Devil's Gate ... "I killed you." ...

... "Did I die?" ... "Did you sell your soul for me like dad did for you?" ...

"One year. I got one year."...

...and finally, hellhounds, ripping that man, that big brother, protector, best friend, tearing him til he bled all over the pristine wood floor ...

Dean

My head had bowed as I concentrated on the images, thoughts, and feelings, but as they ended the agony of the exorcism tore into me again and I raised my eyes to his ... Sammy's.

"It was you."

He paused for a moment, surprised.

"You were there when the Gate opened."

For a second, guilt flashed across his expression. "I couldn't stop it in time. But now I'm here making it right. Sending you back."

I thought for a moment. We watched each other in silence. He seemed to be waiting for a retort.

"Okay," I said simply. "I'll say hello to Dean for you."

He couldn't hide the pain this time. For a moment he floundered, unsure of how he should take what I had just said. I watched the emotions war within him ... trust ... gratitude ... hurt ... betrayal ... anger.

He chose anger. I didn't expect him to believe that I was honest. But I was. So I bowed my head and prayed for this Sam to take care of the woman I embodied ...

... and for the agony to end soon.

TBC



Lyrics from Day of Fire's Dark Hills (Although I originally fell in love with the electric version, the acoustic version can be viewed live here /watch?v-eiRfx1wLmU . The song is not yet recorded.)

Please let me know what you thought of this. All criticism is appreciated. ;)