Wooden floor boards creaked loudly under careful footsteps. Dean cursed silently under his breath. The witches would hear them coming and have time to escape. He held his pistol out in front of him, gun loaded with witch killing bullets. They seriously needed to find a better name for them. Dean looked around the corner into a side parlor. Something should have jumped out at them by now. Sam came up behind him, his own gun trained up front. The brothers continued their search, coming up empty at every turn. Dean was beginning to suspect that the witches had high tailed it out before they even got there.

"You sure this is the right place?" he whispered.

"I'm pretty sure," Sam whispered back.

"You stay down here, I'll go upstairs," Dean said.

Sam nodded and they split up. Dean crept up the rotting staircase. He could hear Sam move around down below. The eldest Winchester reached the top floor, gun swinging around looking for something to shoot. He peeked around the corner into the first room. Nothing but an old bed and the remains of a bedroom set. The second room, same thing. Dean growled in annoyance. There was no one here. The witches were gone. And so the hunt continued.

"Dean!" Sam suddenly cried out.

Dean hurried back down the hall and over the stairs as fast as he could. "Sam?" he called out.

"Dean!"

Dean ran through the house until he came to the sunroom. He stopped short in the doorway. Sam was on the floor, writhing and coughing up blood. Dean looked from his brother to the person at the other end of the room. She was just standing there, watching his brother die.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," the woman greeted in an even tone. "We meet at last."

"Let my brother go, witch," Dean growled, aiming his gun.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" the woman asked in amusement.

She waved her hand as she mumbled a Latin word. The gun went flying out of Dean's hands. The woman tutted as if she were talking to a naughty child.

"Did you honestly expect me to just let you kill me?" she asked, walking over to where Dean was standing. "Now, you're here, and your weapon is all the way over there. With me between you and it."

Dean stood his ground. "Where are the others?" he demanded.

"Why? So you can kill them too?" the woman asked.

"Sooner or later, you're all gonna die," Dean promised. "So, release my brother, and I'll make yours swift and painless."

His eyes drifted upward and he noticed a security camera. What would an abandoned house be doing with security cameras? Dean smirked. He pointed up at the camera.

"Friends keeping an eye out?" he asked.

The woman looked over her shoulder for a moment but was blindsided when Dean slammed his fist into her stomach. She crumpled to the floor. Dean ran for his gun. The witch yelled out in Latin and Dean stopped dead in his tracks, as though his feet were suddenly glued to the floor. He grunted as he tried to move.

"Hitting a lady when she's not looking? That's not very manly," the woman commented as she got to her feet.

Dean knelt down and reached for the gun. His fingers just brushed the hilt. He could hear the woman approaching, as well as Sam's hacking. Neither one was doing his already frayed nerves any good.

"Now, you die, Winchesters," the woman said, beginning a chant.

A hot wave of nausea swept through his body. Dean began to hack up blood as his insides began to boil. His fingers wrapped around the gun. With great effort, he turned around as much as he could and fired. The woman stumbled back in surprise, eyes wide. Sam gasped as his hacking stopped. The spell holding Dean in place lifted and he was able to move again. The woman collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Dean walked up and looked down at her, spitting the rest of the blood out of his mouth before wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said.

Sam struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. "You're kidding, right?"

"We don't know where the others are, Sam," Dean reminded him.

Sam walked up to his brother. "I wonder how high up she was," he mused.

"Doesn't matter, either way. She's dead and we're not," Dean said.

"Go, team," Sam stated.

Something suddenly sparked within the room. The brothers looked around for the source of the spark.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. A voice sounded from out of thin air.

"You took something special from us, Dean Winchester," the voice said. "She was our chosen. She was going to kill you two."

"Then, why is she dead and not us?" Dean asked the disembodied voice.

Several voices began to chant. Sam and Dean glanced at each other in confusion. Then, slowly, Dean's face began to twist in pain. He gripped his shirt above his chest, gasping for breath.

"Dean?" Sam asked as his brother collapsed. "Dean!"

Dean gasped for breath as whatever had a hold on him suddenly let go. The voices stopped chanting.

"For taking our chosen, you will watch as the thing you love most be taken from this world," the voices yelled.

He coughed harshly. Sam slapped him on the back. Dean swatted his brother's hand away. He pushed himself to his feet and fixed his shirt.

"That was uncomfortable," Dean grunted.

Sam looked around but couldn't see anything. "Whatever spell that was seemed to have backfired," he commented. "They didn't even finish their spell."

Dean grimaced in disgust. "Let's go home. This hunt was a bust."

"Sorry, Dean," Sam apologized as they headed for the front door.

He brought up short in Dean's back, almost knocking his brother over. Sam was about to protest when he noticed something was missing. And by the way Dean was shaking in rage, Sam knew Dean saw it too.

"Where's my car?" Dean demanded.

"Uh..." Sam stammered, suddenly very afraid.

"Dude, what the hell?! Where's my car?!" Dean yelled. "Someone stole my car!"

"Dean, calm down," Sam said.

Dean whirled on his brother. "Don't tell me to calm down! I am calm!"

Sam held up his hands and backed away. Dean stormed around the property looking for the Impala. Sam stayed where he was standing. No one came between Dean and the Impala. Mess with the Impala and you had the full wrath of Dean Winchester coming down on your head. Sam knew that better than anyone. He turned to see Dean come stalking around the corner of the house. Sam could practically see the smoke coming out of his brother's ears.

"I'm gonna put a bullet in the brain of the wiseass who stole my car," Dean cursed.

Sam sighed, seeing no other option. "I guess we start walkin'," he said.

The brothers began the long trek back to town. Dean continued to grumble and curse. Sam couldn't blame his brother for being upset. The Impala was his baby. Their Dad had entrusted her care to Dean before he set off on his own to hunt. The car had been Dean's rite of passage from trainee to full on hunter. She was his pride and joy.

Sam looked up at the starry sky. If someone did end up stealing the car, he wanted to be there when Dean found them. Sam couldn't help but grin. That would be a sight to see.

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