DaeIchor Here! Welcome back.

It has been a wonderful Tuesday, if I may say so.

I returned from a case with Sammy only to pass out in the hallway and have to be carried to my room. I personally would not have been insulted if he'd left me there, as that's what I would do if he'd suddenly collapsed. He's huge! I wouldn't have a choice! We're safe here, in the bunker, so a little floor nap won't hurt.

You know those guys that are 6' and look like they've earned it? This guy—Sammy—has earned his height and then some. He's ripped—shredded—even for a hunter. He hasn't been Dean's little brother in years. If you saw him working out you'd faint.

...Just so you're aware, I am not at all concerned that he will be interrupting my blog today. He's with Dean, doing some grocery shopping. When they return I'll know it with enough warning to hide my blog and the last pie. Which is a terrible crime around here, especially when one knows that 'pie' was not written on the grocery list. Dean is going to be so mad.

And that means he'll hunt me down.

He'll probably threaten to throw me out on my ass, again.

Or say something that we both know he doesn't mean, like that I'm just another average evil witch that he should've put down when he first met me. He's silly like that. He likes to imagine I haven't improved his life.

To get back on topic, I guess I should mention exactly why I passed out when we entered the bunker.

We (me and Sam) encountered a case wherein a small Amish community were being attacked in their homes, at night, with no sign of intruders. The victims were found with their chests crushed, but the cause of death seemed to be heart failure...

They died of fright before whatever wanted them dead could cave in their ribcages.

I mentioned that this was not a PG blog, right? Well, now you know. Sorry, kids.

Anyway, we decided on the first night that we wouldn't sleep and would watch the townsfolk on an organized patrol. Half of the settlers were camped in the great hall, afraid to sleep alone. We were more worried about the families that detained themselves in their own homes.

Now, it was lucky they let us wander their community as we did. We had free reign as long as we didn't interfere with their day-to-day. Sam did get a lot of looks, which pissed me the hell off, but we were mostly just curious guests.

Walking into a home to check on sleeping people was still frowned upon in the community, especially for outsiders. That made the job a lot harder.

And...

And I wish we'd just left those families alone. No children had been attacked, and the adults who refused to stay in the great hall were too stubborn to deal with. But we wanted to save everyone, as usual.

I tried to watch over everyone. I used what magic I could without scaring the locals, which was barely any. Without knowing what we were dealing with, I had even less spells to choose from.

When we checked on one family, in the corner of the community housing zone, we missed our first chance to catch the creature that haunted the community.

We didn't hear a scream. We weren't sought out. No one said a thing or moved from their spots. When we stepped into the hall, an hour after the incident, just following our patrol route, we found the entire community knelt around the victim's body.

When we asked them why they couldn't have tried to find us, they just gave us dirty looks and started huddling together, speaking in hushed voices.

The vic, crushed ribs and face frozen in terror, was set aside to be ceremoniously buried later as per the custom.

We were no closer to figuring out what happened, especially when no one would tell us what they saw or heard.

Fuck. I gotta tell you. I am never going back there. Not that I would be permitted to.

Sam could visit whenever he wants. He's not a proud witch.

(I had a very heavy argument with one of the children. I tried to convince them that not all witches are evil. I guess not everyone can see the beauty in power.)

I tried to protect the people. I did.

We learnt nothing, and we went without sleep for another night, once again failing to save someone. We were beat.

I told Sam to sleep, during the day, just outside the limits of the community. He was in my car, a little inconspicuous grey Camry. They hate it, but I like not drawing attention on the road.

I was just outside, doing research on Alps and such, when I heard him struggling.

Dean would never forgive me if he knew that I almost got his brother killed.

The tiny, Tolkien-esque goblin was on top of Sammy's chest, hissing at him with a gnarled snout. Its fingers were curled around Sam's arms, holding him down. The thing was strong.

I couldn't open the car door, at first. Sam was struggling, trying to reach a knife, a gun, whatever we had in the back seat. I quickly chanted, trying to quell the creature's power.

It didn't even look at me as it seemed to grow heavier over his chest. Sam was losing breath, gasping and groaning at the pain in his ribs.

I admit. I was terrified.

Sam isn't just a hunter, or a work partner. We're not as close as we could be, because none of us like to let people into our hearts, but we're friends! Seeing him in pain, his life at stake, I couldn't keep myself under control. My magic took over.

It's a scary thing for everyone involved. In this case, it was worse. I started another chant, speaking faster.

I stood directly in front of the back door, eyes burning from the golden ichor tainting them, and I reached through the glass window. The creature finally noticed me, reaching towards it and intending to strangle the life out of it, and it vanished.

I unlocked the car from the inside, dragged my hand through the slowly solidifying window, and opened the door. Sam still couldn't breathe properly. There were tears in his puffy eyes. He grasped at his chest, yelling and cursing. I can't imagine the pain he was in.

The locals helped me settle him down. I left him in their care for the time being. There was little I could do until we had a place where I could do an actual ritual. A place where I wouldn't get burned at the stake.

I was out of time. I was exhausted. I was at a disadvantage because I couldn't use magic.

Luckily, I had the internet.

Iron, for all you wanting to know. For a night hag like the kind we were facing, iron was the only thing I found that could hurt it. The other problem, I discovered late in the evening, was that I needed the creature to be in a corporeal form. Basically, I had to use Sammy as bait.

Never. Tell. Dean.

I mean it! Don't!

We won't. Sam promised it would be our little secret.

I felt like a shit friend for using him like I did. He was already hurt. It wasn't right. But we had more than just him to worry about. There was an entire community of people to save. There was a night hag to murder.

Sam understood that, and agreed to be my guinea pig. He was also somewhat happy to get another bout of sleep. I was on night 3 without.

Holy crap, never do that! Sleep is very important! Your body starts to shut down when you don't sleep and you are so much more vulnerable to all sorts of evils, and that's if you don't lose to your own body first. Sleep. Please. It's the best way to keep yourself in top shape to fight demons all day.

Which, Dean told me, is not something I'm supposed to be endorsing.

Sam slept. I watched him, iron stabby implement in hand.

It was so boring. I nearly fell asleep. Nearly. Until Sammy's breathing changed.

I had a single moment to kill that thing. I knew that once it noticed me it would be gone again. But if I didn't move fast enough, it would finish the job and break Sam's ribs.

I plunged the iron dagger into its flesh, and it roared so loudly it made me dizzy. I held strong to the dagger, twisting it around. The most terrifying thing was when it turned around. It didn't turn, actually. Its body moved through itself until, instead of facing Sam's wriggling limbs, it was reaching for me and staring into my eyes. I don't know what it saw, but I know what I saw. I saw Sam's nightmares—the things it had been feeding off of.

I gotta tell you; NEVER LOOK INTO A WINCHESTER'S NIGHTMARES. YOU WILL NEVER LOOK AT THEM THE SAME. YOU WILL WANT TO RUN AND SCREAM AND HIDE. YOU WILL WANT TO CLAW YOUR EYES OUT AND BLEACH YOUR OWN BRAIN.

IT IS NOT WORTH IT.

We made it back alright, after our goodbyes. I treated Sam once we were far enough away. He was still in pain when we made it back to the bunker, but there was no serious damage. There was just a little slight bruising left that made him uncomfortable.

The brothers are back now, so I have to go.

Thinking about all of this, I want to give Sammy a hug. I don't care how sore his ribs may be. I almost lost him.

I almost lost Sam.

Hey, this is Dean. Dae is terrible at locking her laptop. It's enchanted not to let certain hostile people get on it, and she thinks that's enough. I'm not mad at her for using Sam like she did. Okay, maybe a little. We all do things on the job that we don't enjoy. We all put our lives on the line.

Being a hunter is not a glamorous gig. We get hurt. We hurt each other. We lose each other. We see more death and evil in seven days than anyone should have to see in seven lifetimes.

The three of us, and Cass, and Jodie, and whoever else is in our crazy family these days, are all looking out for each other. We're also always preparing ourselves for the day when there is nothing we can do. What matters to me is that Dae got Sam back alive, and that Sam got Dae back alive. Tomorrow we'll see what happens. For now we are going to watch Heathers and pretend our lives aren't total shitfests.

(I made Dae go out to buy more pie.)