Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. I am just borrowing them for fun.

This story is set early in Season 2. Rated T for swearing. You know, for Dean.

I'm still new to the fandom, so if you see any continuity or other errors, please drop me a line. My thanks to Demented MK for beta-reading. Any remains errors are mine.

A/N: Woo! I actually wrote something with a plot for once. :D I have one more chapter planned after this.


Sam squinted at the small print and rubbed his eyes. They'd spent two days in town, trying to track down a connection between several recent deaths in this dusty old library. Despite their exhaustive research, they'd turned up nothing suspicious. The Donovan estate had been turned over to the county after the death of the last male heir and was subsequently turned into a library. The town was so tiny that the library served as a central hub of activity. Sam and Dean had seen more people pass through the doors of Donovan Library than any other place in town, including the local burger joint, Dean's latest greasy obsession.

Having long grown bored with such tedious work, Dean had offered to pick up lunch. He was convinced they were on a wild ghost chase and told Sam as much. This left the younger Winchester alone in the basement of the near-abandoned building, eyes watering, his allergies clearly getting the best of him.

Ignoring the pain behind his eyes, Sam sniffed and opened another box of files. A layer of dust scattered about the small space, coating everything in a fine layer of powder. Sam sneezed.

"Bless you, young man."

Sam whirled about the room. He couldn't see anyone. "Hello?" he ventured cautiously.

"Over here," the voice replied.

Sam's eyes travelled to the corner.

"George, it's so good to see you again, my love," the voice said with delight. Laughter filled the small room. And then the lights went out.


Dean felt a sudden stabbing sensation in his chest, right about where his heart was. He slowed the Impala and pulled over to the side of the road. Glancing at the empty cheeseburger wrapper on the seat beside him, he wondered in a detached way if his eating habits had finally caught up with him. Clearly, he was having a heart attack.

Then he heard the voice. *Dean?!* Sammy's voice. Directly in his mind.

Oh, crap, thought Dean. He rubbed at his chest and tried to slow his breathing.

*I don't know if you can hear me ...* Dean swallowed and washed a hand down his face. *I need your help, Dean.*

He had the Impala in gear by the end of that sentence. Flipping the car around with a expert hand, he raced back to the library.

Hold on, little brother, I'm coming.


"Where are we?" Sam asked. His fear had ratcheted down a notch when the spirit hadn't attacked him, but his hands were still bound and it was pitch black. He'd been maneuvered through at least two doorways - which he'd noticed because he tripped over the sills - but after that, he'd lost track of where he was.

The voice cackled in delight. "The correct question, my dear, is when."

Sudden illumination revealed an ornate ballroom. Lanterns and candles filled the space with flickering light. White roses in cut crystal vases decorated a long wooden table. Sam recognized the filigree on the walls. Despite his fear, his curiosity was piqued. "Is this the library? It looks so different."

"Wasn't it grand? Look."

Sam watched as a young couple entered the ballroom. The woman wore gloves and a dress that fell to her knees. The man, tall with a shy smile, wore a dapper suit and chewed a cigar. He pulled out a chair for the woman. Neither seemed to notice Sam standing in the corner with his hands bound, even when he rattled the chains. Sam noticed, with nausea swirling in his gut, that his body didn't appear entirely solid. He fought down the urge to call for help. It appeared unlikely that the couple would hear him anyway and Sam didn't want to risk pissing off this spirit, especially since it seemed to be able to alter his perception of time and space.

The voice sighed. "My George. So handsome."

"Is that you?" Sam could see the young woman's cheeks turn pink when the man said something to her. The couple shared a smile.

"Those were better days," the voice said.


Dean thudded down the stairs of the library, earning a glare from the elderly librarian. "Shhh!" she admonished.

Dean ignored her as he strode toward the small room in the back where he and Sam had been working. "Sammy!" he called out. No answer. Dean's pace quickened as he peered into each of the rooms leading off of the main hall. No Sam.

Finally, he pushed open the door at the back to find Sam asleep at the table, his head resting on a stack of old files. He blew out a sigh. "Rise and shine, Princess."

When Sam didn't respond, Dean stepped closer to him and shook his shoulder. "Sam?"

*Dean!*

The man in the leather jacket stared at his brother, who hadn't spoken a word and appeared to be sound asleep. I must be losing my mind. "Sammy?" He shook his brother more forcefully this time.

*Right here, Dean.*

Dean ignored the helpful little voice in his head and checked his brother's vital signs. Pulse was elevated, breathing erratic. Dean placed a hand on Sam's forehead. The kid was burning up.

"Shit."

*Dean, you've got to bring me back.*

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean said, trying to propel his gargantuan brother into a standing position. "Let's get you out of here and we can treat that fever."

*Dean! You can't do that!*

"What?" Dean was so annoyed at Sam's tone of voice that it took him a few minutes to realize that he had responded aloud to the voice in his head. "Great, I really am losing my damn mind." He set Sammy down and ran a hand through his hair.

*No, you're not. I'm the one who's lost my mind. I'm trapped in the library. She's taken me.*

Dean stared at his Sasquatch of a brother. "You're right here, Sammy. I got you. You're just delirious. You're running a high fever and it's making you do some odd psychic shit. I need to get you out of -"

*Dean! Listen to me. I can't leave the library. I'm not inside my body anymore. She's taken me back in time.*