"Hey don't forget the extra onions this time huh?"

Dean slipped Sam some money. Sam swiped it with a touch of annoyance.

"Dude...I'm the one who's gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions."

Dean smirked, knowing the last time that happened, Sam had to ride in the back seat the entire 50 miles of the journey under a blanket, screaming for Dean to roll down a window. Sam opened the door, ignoring his brother's gleeful look and turned back as Dean declared his ever wanting need for sustenance.

"Hey see if they got any pie!"

Sam grunted, wishing his brother would just go get his own damned pie for once. Sammy was always the gopher and it was annoying. If he was not around Dean would drop dead from malnutrition.

"Bring me some pie!"

Dean shouted at his baby brother as Sam exited the car. The slam of the door was the only sound in the sparsely filled parking lot. Sam rolled his eyes and trudged his way across the cement lot to the diner. The chill in the air nipped at his neck, making Sam pull his jacket tighter around himself. A single red pickup sat to Sam's right. He noted this for future reference.

Dean smiled like a school boy at his prom, mumbled about loving him some pie, then turned the stereo up louder. The music danced throughout the Impala, and Dean tapped his fingers to the beat. He just hoped his little brother would not be too long in getting his beloved pie.Hmm, hope they have rhubarb.

Opening the front door, Sam slipped in to the brightly lit ranch-style restaurant. The bell over head tinged, causing Sam to jump slightly. A single person sat by himself by the door, wearing a jean jacket and a ball cap. He glanced up as the new customer entered, checking him over then returned back to his dinner.

Sam stepped up the small counter, taking a seat not bothering to remove his jacket. For one thing it was still cold, even in the establishment, and two he was only in there to get Dean his pie. Rolling his eyes yet again, Sam waited for a waitress to sway on by so he could catch her eye. After a few moments something caught his.

In a booth at the end of the diner, he saw a young woman with her back to him. She kept playing with her napkin, folding it until it was too small to fold any more, then would start all over again. Sam studied her for a minute or two, then moved from where he was and cautiously walked up beside the young lady. As he was about to ask her a question, she looked up at him and his heart nearly hit the floor. It was Jess.

"So, I see you found me."

Sam nearly collapsed to the floor along with his heart. The only woman he ever truly loved, whom had died right before his eyes two years ago, was sitting directly in front of him just as beautiful as the day he met her, if not more so.

Jess stared up at him, catching the disbelief in his eyes and stood gripping his arm. Her touch was immensely warm and soothing. Sam touched her hand just to prove to himself that she was real and grabbed her, pulling her tightly to himself. Years of emotions welled up inside him, not only from her death, but from his mother's, flowed from him and he lost all composure. Jess struggled to hold his massive frame and tried to sit him down.

"Sam it's okay...I'm here now."

She looked at him, and he feigned a smile. It was hard to believe that she was there, even if he had been able to feel her. Her hazel eyes almost a mirror image of his own. That was the first thing he had noticed about her when he had first seen her at the Stanford campus. Her eyes. There was so much mystery about them, so much life. Once he had delved into them, there was no way back. Sam had fallen, and hard.

"How, how did you?? You died, at Stanford..."

Sam wiped at his eyes, stuttering, his tongue fighting back the words that he had been holding so long. He never thought he would ever have to say this out loud, at least in this way. Yes Sam had said it to Dean, as much at it pained him, said it millions of times in dreams. Yet never could he have imagined he would have to say it to Jess herself.

"What you saw Sam, what you saw that night was not real. It was only a mere illusion. Something contrived by that damned trickster to screw you over good. He has been playing with you boys for years, not just since your last encounter."

Sam eyed her cautiously. Now he began to wonder if he really was seeing her or if he was sleeping in the back seat of the Impala and Dean was still driving to the diner. Seeing the look on his face, Jess shook her head.

"Sam, look. I know what you boys have been going through. I have been following your cases since that day. I have just been staying out of sight, thinking it would be better for the both of us that way."

A look flashed on Sam's face. He was no longer saddened, but angry. How dare she decide what was best? He thought he had lost her in '05, now here she was saying she thought it in her best interest to stay clear of him? She had no right.

"Jess I loved you, no strike that, love you. You just can not make a decision like that and deem it the right one. You can not be the deal breaker here. There are two parties in this relationship, and I have a stake in this factor, don't I?? Or was I mistaken in that?"

Sam was flustered, not thinking straight. Jess flinched as Sam slammed a fist on the table when she did not answer.

"Sam...I'm sorry, but there are some things better left unanswered, and sadly, this is one of them."

Jess' mood changed and she reached for Sam's hand slowly. As she touched it, all warmth was gone. He felt a slight tingle in his fingertips that edged its way up his hand, through his arm and into his shoulder. Then it sped into his head. He grunted as a bright light crashed against the back of his eyes, blinding him. The light increased its intensity, then went out all together.

A moment later Sam could feel a pain surging in his corneas. The pain radiating into his lenses and pulsed fast. He struggled against Jess' hold, but she never let go. Then a vision erupted behind the pain. Quick flashes of the man sitting at the booth, the only other patron. He was eating, then suddenly lying slumped on the table in his own blood. His neck was slashed. Sam tried to scream, but nothing happened.

Another image. This time a waitress was serving coffee to a man who looked to be dressed as a janitor. She smiled at the man, then smiled broader as he handed her a ten dollar bill. The man waved her away when she tried to give it back. The next image was of the woman lying on the floor covered in blood.

The final, and most gruesome image, was of the cook. He yelled over the back counter for something, calling for the waitress. A split second later, he was lying on the floor behind the front counter, his throat sliced from ear to ear, blood pouring out everywhere. Sam could feel tears cascading down his face, the connection between him and Jess broken.

"Why, who are you...you're not Jess."

Before she could say a word, Sam slid to the floor in a dead heap, enveloped in a white light. Jess stood over him smiling sweetly.

"Poor, sweet boy. You are going to need all the rest you can get where you are going."

Outside Dean's stereo began to go haywire. He stared at it for a moment as static and feedback cut through his tunes. In all his years with the Impala, it never went screwy on him. Even when he accidentally spilled beer on it on a drunken night in Albuquerque, it still functioned. So why now?? He thunked it, but still it continued to act up. That was when he registered the fact that something was wrong, way wrong.

Dean looked up at the diner and saw that there was no one in side. Not even Sam. Sam was not one to skip on his older brother, he was too smart for that. Dean leapt from the car, gun in hand. Yanking the front door open, he scanned the place, then called for his brother. His own voice came back at him as a mere echo. The place was empty, or so he thought. Walking slowly down the center of the diner, Dean saw a scene that made his stomach do a back flip. Lying face down in half of his 10 pints, was a man clad in a jean jacket. His ball cap was just to the left of him. Dean swallowed hard as he called for Sam again, yet got no response.

Dean moved past the customer and slipped toward the back door, when he caught site of what was behind the front counter. Dean struggled to stay upright, despite his strong stomach. The cook and the night waitress were both slaughtered. The waitress had been stabbed to death and the cook's throat had been sliced completely open. Dean was now in utter terror for his brother.

Touching the back door, Dean noticed a familiar substance, and it was not good in the very least. Sulfur, and it could only mean one thing. A daemon was in the vicinity, and he had Sammy. Dean rushed out the front door and down the parking lot screaming his brother's name. The night air held no response, but only sent back his despair.

In the darkness two shadowy figures loomed watching Dean stuff his gun into the back of his jeans. He slipped his phone from his pocket knowing there was only one alternative: Robert Singer. Dean called the older hunter, then jumped in his car taking off a little too fast, his tires spinning on the wet lot.

"Do you think it worked?"

Jess asked the other figure. He smiled as Jess' features began to melt away, revealing a man with a wicked smile, hazel eyes, and a penchant for causing trouble in his wake. The other man shrugged.

"Well son, we shall see as the day comes. But as Sammy soon realises his potential, then we will know if everything up until this point has made much of an impact."

The first man nodded, then watched the second man, dressed in a blue janitor's uniform, slip quietly into the night.