Chapter 1

The boy ran. The cold night wind howled in his ears as he pushed through the underbrush and around the large forest trees. His lungs burned but he only ran faster.

It had to be close. He knew it had to be close.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and ducked behind a large oak, hidden by the underbrush.

For a while everything was quiet. The wind rustled the tree branches and the dead leaves on the forest floor whipped up around the boy in his hiding spot. The sinisterly thin grey clouds moved quickly overhead but oddly enough seemed to avoid covering the nearly full moon which was casting eerie blue-gray shadows all around. For a few seconds the boy thought he might be safe and strained his ears for any indication to assume otherwise.

The wind rustled the bush to the boy's left. No, not the wind.

The boy stopped his heavy breathing and tried to slow his racing heartbeat because that was the type of thing it would be listening for. The low growl resonated through the boy's entire body but he didn't move. A tall, dark, slender silhouette emerged from the trees only two feet away from the oak tree.

"Fine!" it shouted, and the boy nearly jumped. "You're not the one I'm after! I got what I came for…" And with that, it was gone.

The boy sat, huddled, for several more minutes until he was positive it had left. He climbed out of his hiding spot and looked around.

"Anna!" he whispered. No answer. Where could she be? If she wasn't out here, she had to be back at the motel. Of course, she was back there waiting for him, probably worried about where he'd gone off to. The boy laughed to himself, smiled and ran off in the opposite direction. Then he heard it.

It was a scream like nothing he'd ever heard before in his life. It curdled his insides and for a few moments, he thought he was going to be sick.

Fear like he'd never felt before racked his whole body. He ran, faster than ever, away from the sound. Nothing human could have made her scream like that. He knew where he had to go, and he let the adrenaline carry him through his panic, back through the forest.

Sam awoke suddenly, his head burning so badly his eyes watered. His back was stiff from the way he'd been laying in the front seat of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala. It was dark outside and Sam could only see the brake lights of the few scattered cars on the road in front of him.

Dean looked over at his little brother. He'd been watching as Sam whimpered and moaned in his sleep for the past twenty minutes. He didn't dare wake Sam for fear of interrupting something that may be useful later. He loosened his grip on his steering wheel so Sam wouldn't see how nervous he had been.

"You okay?" Dean asked, looking back at the road.

"Yeah…" Sam said.

Dean looked back over at his brother. "Yeah you look it." He watched him painfully.

"They're getting worse," Sam said quietly.

"What do you mean 'worse'?"

"More intense," Sam said, rubbing his head. "They hurt like hell." Sam turned green and bent forward, his head between his knees.

"Whoa!" Dean said slowing down and pulling off on the side of the road. "Dude, don't you dare do that in my car!"

Sam pushed open the door and stumbled out onto the shoulder of the highway. He sat at the edge where the gravel met the grass, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Dean pulled the key from the ignition, checked his mirror, then got out and came around next to his brother. "You want some water or something?"

"No," Sam said weakly. The cold night air washed over him and he began to feel better.

"Good because we don't have any." Dean leaned against the open passenger side door unsure of what to do. He watched his brother take several deep breaths and screw his eyes up in pain. Sam was right; his visions were getting worse. For the last couple weeks Sam had been dreaming about a young boy being followed in a forest late at night and every time Sam awoke from one of these dreams he'd almost thrown up from the pain. Dean had watched, helpless, unable to do anything except promise to look into who the boy was to see if they could stop the visions.

"Did you see anything new this time?" Dean asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Sam answered, lifting his head out of his hands and not looking as pale. "Yeah, there was someone else there this time."

"Someone else? Another kid?"

"No, it was just a silhouette. Tall, dark. It was whatever was following the boy."

"Well, what'd it look like? Was it the demon? Did it do anything?" Dean asked anxiously.

"I couldn't see it. But it said…something."

"What, Sammy? What'd it say?"

Sam screwed his eyes shut once again, trying desperately to remember. "It said that it wasn't after the kid. It already got what it came for…"

"'Got what it came for'? What does that mean?"

"I don't know, Dean."

"Well, was there anything else?"

"A scream." Sam looked up at his brother. "Dean, someone's in trouble."

"Don't worry, Sammy," Dean said, helping his brother to his feet. "We'll find out what's going on."

Sam could barely move the rest of the drive. He sat slumped in his seat, staring at the roof of the car as his brother tried to find a cheap motel to stay the night in. Dean pulled off the interstate and into the Marshwick Motel parking lot.

"Wait here; I'll go get a room." Dean got out of the car and headed inside the front office.

Sam rolled down his window and felt the cold air pour in. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The branches swayed as the wind howled louder but the boy was safe in the underbrush. It was gone now, he couldn't hear it anymore. He crept slowly out from behind the tree. "Anna!" he whispered urgently. "Anna!"

"Sam!"

Sam awoke and sat straight up. Dean was outside his window looking at him, concerned.

"It's got a girl, Dean."

"What does?" Dean asked, opening Sam's door for him and offering to help him out.

"Whatever it is in my visions. The boy went after a girl but it's got her. Anna…"

"Anna?"

"He was calling for Anna right before…right before she screamed…"

"How do you know it was her? Did you see her, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but I know it was her." Sam paused. He had this weird feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. "I just know."

"Come on," Dean said, helping his brother up and lightly kicking the door closed with his foot.

They crossed the parking lot and headed to room 34. Dean unlocked the door and helped Sam inside. The room was fairly large with two twin beds in the middle, a small kitchen area, a low wooden table with three odd chairs and one single window by the door. Dean let Sam take the nearest bed, watched as he collapsed upon it and then went back to the Impala to grab their bags.

The wind had picked up a little when Dean left Sam in the room to get their stuff. The moon hung low in the early morning hours, not quite full yet, Dean noticed, as he unlocked the trunk. He pulled out two green duffle bags and set them on the ground. Dean looked around to double check no one was close then turned in the combination to unlock the hidden weapons cache underneath. He pushed it open, bracing it with a heavy shotgun and took out several pistols and silver knifes. He shoved them all quickly in a small blue duffle bag and re-locked the trunk. He went back around front, rolled Sam's window up, then locked the doors.

Dean went back into the motel room quietly so not to disturb Sam who was sleeping soundly for the first time in a while. Dean sat down the three bags, shoving the one with the weapons in it under the table and out of sight. He walked up to Sam's bed and pulled off Sam's shoes. He took the comforter off his own bed and threw it over his brother. Something in that moment of watching Sam sleep reminded Dean of when Sam was little and how he used to kick all his covers off in the middle of the night. Dean couldn't count how many times he'd woken up just to put more blankets on his brother's bed.

The nostalgic smile that had come to Dean's face quickly faded with the jump back to reality caused by a grunt in Sam's slumber. Exhausted, Dean pulled out Sam's computer and sat down at the table by the window. "Anna" wasn't much of a lead, but it was better than nothing, and if she knew something that could help Sam, it was well worth looking into.

Sam awoke late in the morning, an odd noise coming from somewhere in the room. He was still in his clothes from the previous day, his shoes lay on the floor off to the side of his bed and he was twisted in a heavy comforter. He sat up, still rather exhausted, and located the source of the strange sound.

Dean was laying spread eagle on top of his sheets, in nothing but his boxers, snoring.

"Dean," Sam called trying to shut his brother up, but the snoring continued. "Dean!" Sam took his pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. Dean's snoring stopped and he rolled over on his left side, still sleeping. Sam lay back down, relieved and closed his eyes. That's when Dean's snoring started again.

"Seriously?!"

Sam kicked his way out of his sheets and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower and some clean clothes, Sam was happy to find the snoring had stopped.

"Find anything?" Sam asked when he noticed his brother was up and at his computer.

"Well, a first name isn't really much to go off of, especially online…" Dean answered.

"But?" Sam asked as a sly smile spread on Dean's face.

"But," Dean said, "Dad knew an Anna, knew her pretty well by the looks of it. She's all over his journal."

"Really?" Sam asked, walking over to the table and sitting down. "I never noticed that before."

"That's because he never uses her name."

"What?"

Dean passed the journal over the table. "It's a code."

Sam picked up the journal and looked at the page Dean had opened to. He studied the page. There was a long scribbling about werewolves on one page and a cut out newspaper article about a poltergeist haunting on the other. Sam looked back at Dean, not seeing anything suspicious.

"Look at the signature under Dad's writing," Dean said, nodding down to the journal.

Sam looked again. The signature wasn't a signature at all. It was a series of letters and numbers.

(A+0)+2(A+13)+(Ax1)

"Is it some sort of logarithm, Dean?" Sam asked, still not sure how to figure it out.

"Nope," Dean answered, pulling the journal back to him, ripping out a spare page and writing quickly. He passed the journal and paper back to Sam. "It's an alphabet code."

A+0 A

2(A+13) N, N

Ax1 A

ANNA

"You think it's her?" Sam asked, impressed with his brother's quick deductive reasoning.

"I do," Dean answered smugly, "and more than that. She was obviously someone important to Dad. He took the time to hide her name but she's in here everywhere, different code every time but it always comes out to her name." Dean started flipping through the journal, pointing out other seemingly random number and letter combinations on pages about possessions, chimeras, Kapres, and even Engkantada.

"They must have worked some jobs together. Whoever this chick is, she was with Dad just before we met back up with him." Dean leaned over and turned a few pages in the journal to the new entries their dad had put in about signs from the demon. John had added these just after meeting up with them during the vampire incident in Colorado.

"You think she was helping him with the demon?" Sam asked, noticing that most of the weather reports and newspaper articles had been dated just days before Daniel Elkins' death.

"If so it may explain why your visions are connected to her and that kid."

"You, uh, you think Dad ever had a thing with her?" Sam asked.

"Nah," Dean said. "Dad wasn't like that. Besides we all know I'm the ladies man in the family."

"Right," Sam said, rolling his eyes at his brother. "Well, according to Dad's journal they were after something in Wisconsin before he left."

"It's a start," Dean said, closing Sam's laptop and pulling out a map.

"Dean that was months ago."

"Like I said, Sammy, it's a start."

"Where are we now?"

"Just outside Bricelyn, Minnesota. Where do we have to go in Wisconsin?"

"Crystal Springs," Sam answered, closing his dad's journal and throwing some scattered clothes back into his duffle bag.

"We're looking at a six hour drive at least," Dean said, marking a spot on the map and then rolling it back up. "Hope you slept well 'cause you're driving. I stayed up most of the night trying to find your mystery girl."

"Fine, just don't snore anymore, I can't take it."

"What?" Dean said, standing up and looking skeptically at his brother. "Come on, Sammy, I don't snore."

"Dean, I think you nearly woke half the motel this morning!"

"Eh," Dean said with a wave of his hand. "I'm too adorable to snore." He smiled and raised his eyebrows to his brother.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Dean."

Dean's smile faltered and he looked at Sam a little hurt. "Come on," he said, "we should get moving. We don't know if this Anna woman's still going to be there or not."

Together Sam and Dean packed all their stuff hastily back into their duffle bags and left the room. Sam went to get the car while Dean turned the key back in and paid for the room under the name of Lou Gramm.

To Sam's annoyance, Dean slept, and snored, nearly the entire six hour journey. Not even the greatest hits of mullet rock could drown out the incessant racket. Near eight o'clock that evening, Sam pulled in to a tiny rustic looking motel. Sam looked over at his brother. Dean's head flopped to the side, his mouth wide open, and Sam wondered how on Earth it was humanly possible to make a sound so atrocious. He leaned over and pinched Dean's nose. It took a few seconds then Dean coughed himself awake. He sat up awkwardly and rubbed his nose while Sam laughed to himself.

"Are we here?" Dean asked, looking around sleepily.

"Yup. Crystal Springs, Wisconsin."

"Heh, that drive didn't bother me at all." Dean smiled and ignored Sam's pissed off look. "Come on, Sammy, let's get a room."

Sam shook his head but stepped out of the car. The sun was just starting to set in the western sky behind a tall line of trees that marked the beginning of a thick forest.

"What force on earth made you pick this motel, Sammy?" Dean asked, looking quizzically at the happy, smiling bear on the sign next to the name Happy Harry's Hideaway. When Sam didn't respond he turned and found his brother staring at the sunset. "Sammy?"

"What?" Sam asked, turning away from the woods. "What'd you say?"

"Are you okay, man?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why don't you go grab a room and I'll get the stuff."

"Sure," Dean said slowly. He walked away and Sam turned his attention back to the forest. His stomach felt uneasy. He looked back at the car, trying to place his exact feelings but he couldn't. He took the bags out and waited for Dean to come back.

They walked across a small, vacant courtyard filled with scattered picnic tables and vending machines of various products and up to room 126. Dean unlocked the door and headed inside, Sam on his heels. The room was a little bit smaller than their last, no kitchen area, but a little loveseat sat in the corner and a small table stood solitarily by the door. There was a window in the front and another in the back over both beds. The walls were paneled with dark wood and the carpet was a swampy green. The beds were lined with crimson sheets and the loveseat was cushioned in royal blue. And that wasn't the worst part. Almost every part of the room had been decorated with the same happy smiling bear from the sign outside, even down to the little bear-headed door knobs. Dean and Sam looked at each, both a little hesitant.

"Well, I think it's safe to say Robin Leach isn't visiting Happy Harry anytime soon…" Dean said, dropping his bag and patting the bed before sitting on it. The mattress was so old it sank under his weight.

"Right," Sam said, "what do we do now?"

Dean looked at his brother. He seemed rather pale again. "Why don't you get some sleep, you look beat. We'll start when you get up."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "We're not going to get much more done right now then we could tonight anyway. Get some sleep and I'll see if I can get anything else out of Dad's journal."

"Okay." Sam walked over to his bed and lay down. He put his arms behind his head and stretched out. It felt good to just relax, even if the wind was cold. The moon was nearly full and the shadows it cast moved on the forest floor. He was breathing hard but there was a sound behind him now, a rustling in the bush to his left. The low growl preceded the dark silhouette out of the brush. He could hear it sniffing and knew it must be listening but he didn't move. He stayed still and controlled his breathing. He wasn't afraid and he wasn't anxious. He was patient and he waited until it had left. And even after he couldn't see it anymore he still waited, not out of fear, out of experience.

"Fine!" It shouted. "I'm not after you anyway. I got what I came for…" And then it really was gone, receding into the darkness.

He crawled out from behind the oak and listened. Then his face relaxed and he actually smiled. He walked quietly and quickly through the brush but his attitude was more relaxed, more at ease. The wind was harsh but there was no mistaking the noise that rang clearly through the forest. His insides seemed to freeze and melt at the same time. He shook, uncontrollably, nothing having to do with the chilled air. The scream… it was her. He knew what he had to do. He ran.

Sam sat up in bed. His eyes were burning and he couldn't see anything. Everything was blurred and his head pounded. He leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet and felt his stomach lurch.

"Sammy?" Dean was standing over him. "Sammy, you okay?"

Sam sat back up and wiped the sick from his mouth. Dean hurried and grabbed him a towel and Sam pressed it against his face, partly so Dean couldn't see how much pain he was really in. After a few minutes of stunned silence, Sam removed the towel and looked at his brother.

"That one was really bad," Sam said.

Dean's eyes were wide. He didn't know what to do. He stared at his brother, never feeling more helpless in his entire life. He grabbed his arm and helped Sam back to the bed.

"We're gonna figure this out, Sammy," he said calmly. "We're gonna make these stop, okay? We will."

Sam nodded. He knew Dean wanted to help but he also felt like he wasn't going to be able to take many more of these visions. They were still getting worse. He felt like his head was going to explode. Sam sat back on his bed and took deep, calming breaths.

"Did you find anything?" Sam asked. Dean noticed his voice was weak and he looked away from his brother not sure how much longer he could watch Sam be in this much pain.

"Not really," Dean said, trying his best to control the anger in his tone. "Look, why don't we just get out of here for a few hours. There's a bar next to the motel, let's grab some beers."

"Yeah," Sam said, rubbing his head. "Yeah, that sounds good." He leaned over and grabbed his coat.

Dean watched as Sam slowly put on his coat, his face still showing signs of pain. He grabbed his own jacket off the loveseat and waited for Sam to stand up. They crossed the room to the door and Dean pulled it open but instead of going out, something else fell in.

Dean's hand was in his coat and clasped around his gun before he realized it was just a kid. The young boy had been sitting outside, leaning up against the door and apparently crying.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, reaching down and pulling the terrified boy up by the shirt collar.

"Dean…"

Dean turned to face his brother. Sam's face was pale and his eyes were locked on the young boy's face.

"Dean, that's the kid."