Chapter 3

Sam felt the heat against his face, not overwhelmingly intense but sweat inducing nonetheless as he felt the beads occasionally drip down his brow as he struggled to drag himself from the deep state of sleep he'd fallen into, not really sure he wanted to come out of it just yet. It was peaceful, and he was actually enjoying it. He wasn't sure where he was, but he was sure that wherever it was it was pretty damn warm, wherever exactly that may be. He cracked open one eye at a time, and rather slowly at that, as the fuzziness started to dissipate from his head and looked around rather warily. Directly in front of him burned a roaring fire, the crisp smell of cedar filling the air as the wood blazed away, the glow from the fire the only source of illumination in the entire room. The room itself, from what he could see, was cozy. Above the fireplace were numerous photos in neat little wooden frames, just a little too far and a little too dark to make out, but obviously family photos nonetheless. There was a dark beige couch on one side of the hearth and a equally dark beige chair on the other, a large brown animal fur rug laying over the hardwood floor spread out between the two, and Sam just prayed it wasn't real. The couch had light blue throw pillows and a darker blue quilt thrown over the back for decoration, making the picture complete. It was very country, very homey, and pretty much what you'd expect from a house deep in the woods. He thought about that for a minute, trying to figure out how he'd gotten into a house deep in the woods since he really couldn't piece together the last few hours when he saw her, cross-legged on the floor with her elbows resting on her knees and her chin in her hands, staring up at him with a deep look of curiosity. Her gaze never left his face, even when he'd opened his eyes fully and stared right back, his brain not really being able to pull together any cognitive thoughts at that very second.

"Hey Ilsa, I think he's awake," her call finally dragging him from his trance, but not his stare, as the blonde girl on the floor spoke to someone that Sam just couldn't see, not once breaking eye contact with him. The stare was unnerving, and after a few long moments, Sam just couldn't stand it anymore, so he forced himself to look away.

He tried to move his arms, each and every effort coming up seemingly useless and looked left to right to see if he could figure out why. Both limbs were spread out wide and pinned down to a thick wooden board with plastic ties, steadfastly secured not only at the wrist but at the elbows and the upper arm at the shoulder. He met the same result when he tried moving his legs, finding them just as immobile as they were held tight against an opposing wooden beam at the ankles and knees. The only thing he found he could move were his fingers, and unfortunately for him, they were numb and he couldn't feel them anyway. He stood upright, somehow attached to the wall behind him, his neck stiff from his head hanging low and practically resting against his chest.

"Don't bother, you aren't going anywhere," she casually said to him, like he was some kind of circus sideshow strung up for her amusement.

Memories of a certain crazy family that liked hunting humans started flooding his mind, and somehow he knew he was in some serious trouble. That and the fact that his brother was no where to be seen or heard put him firmly at strike two. He tried to recall what had happened before he woke up in the easy-bake oven he found himself in, the temperature in the house easily above eighty degrees, not that he was complaining since it was brutally cold outside. 'Brutally cold outside, where exactly is outside anyway? Montana, that's right, we're in Montana. We're supposed to be checking out something, something Bobby asked us to. Oh yeah, the Yeti. I knew that was a load of crap!' The thoughts started making their way back to him as images bombarded his head one after another. Stranded in some crap town for two days with his overly irritable brother, constantly bickering with Dean, Dean's irritation at telling him repeatedly about where they were going, Dean getting all pissy when the tire blew and refusing to let Sam help him change it when he knew he was getting sick, Dean laying passed out on the snow covered shoulder of the road… 'Shit, where the hell is Dean?'

"Where am I, and where's my brother?" He demanded, trying to sound like he was totally in control, even though he really wasn't in any position to demand anything.

The blonde on the floor just continued to stare as the one last detail of what he'd forgotten finally hit Sam's scattered brain. She was the last thing he'd seen before things went black, her standing over Dean as he was sprawled out on the cold pavement with what Sam would describe as a sneer spread across her face. His answer came to him, but not from her as she just sat there in silence staring. He was somewhat shocked to see her twin approach him and catch his stare and he instantly knew exactly who was in charge.

"Where you are isn't important, Sam Winchester. Just know that you are our guest for the time being, and if all goes well, we'll let you go. Don't worry, we have no intentions of harming you, unless you make us," she told him in a sweet, soft voice that was making Sam's skin start to crawl, especially the way she'd said his name. 'How the hell does she even know my name?'. She was young and petite, barely out of her teens, but somehow there was an intelligence behind those eyes that defied time and age itself.

"What have you done with my brother?" He asked again, fear starting to churn in his stomach when she didn't answer him the first time.

"We haven't done anything with your brother Sam, for now we only want you."

"What do you mean you haven't done anything with my brother? You didn't leave him on the side of the road to freeze to death, did you?" Fear was starting to give way to terror at the thought of his brother laying out in the cold and dying alone while he was trapped with Barbie and Skipper.

"Don't worry, he'll survive. You and Dean come from though stock, don't you?" She replied, her smile spread wide as she said it. 'Great, not only does she know me, she knows Dean too. This just gets better and better.'

There was something else in her eyes that he could see as she spoke, and he knew it was something very wrong. Sam could feel it more and more with every word she spoke. There was a hidden maliciousness to her tone, and he couldn't help but wonder just what exactly that crack was supposed to mean, and wondered how this young girl could possibly know what kind of stock he or his brother had come from.

"Whatever you want from me you may as well forget it right now. If you know what kind of stock we come from, then you know that Dean will stop at nothing to find me," Sam said defiantly, trying to convince himself that his brother would come for him as much as he tried telling them, the words themselves somewhat quelling the doubt he felt inside.

"Is that so? Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" She sneered again, her tone no longer soft and sweet but harsh and deadly.

"Oh we will. Dean will come, you can count on that."

"That's exactly what we are counting on Sam, believe me, we're looking forward to it."

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The trek through the snow was hard and slow, each step more difficult then the step before. The snow cover was uneven, some spots only ankle deep but others covering his calves up to the knees, making it nearly impossible to walk more then a few inches at a step. His boots were soaked through to his feet along with his jeans making the fabric heavy and even harder to move. He had no feeling in his toes anymore and fully expected that to just start working its way up anytime now. He was breathing harder and harder with each step, finding it almost impossible to keep warm, other then the fire in his chest. Add that and the fact that the Tylenol he'd taken hadn't even scratched the surface of his headache yet and he was ready to just head back to the car and call it a day. Well, until he saw the ever expanding blood trail he was following.

It weaved left and right, through trees and clearings, but never once went completely out of sight. For that at least, Dean was grateful. If he lost the trail, he'd lose Sam, and he just couldn't lose Sam. So, onward he continued, feet numb, legs soaked, chest on fire, freezing his ass off, not planning on letting up until his brother was safe. He never heard his phone in his pocket singing it's Motley Crue'd tune until the third time it went off, the ringtone not catching his attention but the vibration he'd finally felt doing the trick instead.

"Bobby, wha…" was about all he could spit out before the hacking started, the pain in his chest with each cough driving him to his knees in the knee deep snow, almost burying him to his neck in the freezing white fluff. It seemed to go on for an eternity before he finally caught somewhat of a breath, the rattle with each inhale more pronounced with each intake. "Bobby, whatcha got for me?" He finally finished what he'd tried to say earlier, a few small hitches still escaping in-between words.

"You want me to wait while you pick that lung up off the ground an put it back where it belongs?" The concern was obvious in the older man's voice. "What the hell was that Dean? How long you been doing that?"

"Couple days. It's nothing, I'm fine. You got any news for me?" He lied, knowing full well he was anything but fine, the multicolored mess he'd left in the snow confirming that point. It was no longer just greenish-brown, now it had an added tinge of pink.

"The hell you're fine. Do you even know the definition of that word?" He shot back, full on irritated with the young man at the lack of concern he had for himself.

"Bobby, now would not be the time to try giving me an English lesson. You got anything for me or did you just call to shoot the shit?"

"Yeah, I got something for you, but you ain't gonna like it." His voice sounded almost grim, and Dean knew he didn't like it the second he heard it. He definitely didn't need the older man to point that out to him.

"Now why am I not surprised?"

"Cause you never seem to like anything I tell you when you call for info, that's why. Seems that in just about twenty-four hours from now there's gonna be a full solar eclipse. Guess where it's supposed to be centered," Bobby wasn't liking what he was hearing from the other end either. Dean was obviously trying very hard to hide his wheezing now.

"I'm betting it ain't Miami, is it? I just can't get lucky like that."

"You'd be betting right. I'm not trying to scare you or anything, but I sure hope that doesn't mean what I'm thinking it may mean. If I get on the road now, I can be there in half a day." If Dean didn't know better, he'd swear he heard the jangling of keys as the man was already prepared to walk out the door.

"I appreciate it Bobby, but I don't even know where the hell to look yet. I'm just following this trail and hoping it leads me to wherever I need to be," Dean's tone went blank and Bobby could tell he was hiding something else too, not just his own health problems.

"What trail, and don't lie to me. What trail are you following?"

Dean made the mistake of taking in a deep breath before he tried to answer, this fit not lasting nearly as long as the first one, but it was just as productive and just as painful. It was getting to the point that he couldn't even touch his own chest without it hurting anymore, and truth be told, he'd love nothing more then the seasoned hunters help. When the bout had finally passed, Dean started telling Bobby everything slowly, not wanting to start another. He told him about the bogus text he'd been sent that had Bobby's name on it, the now obvious sabotage of his beloved black beauties' tires that caused the blowout, the she-devil woman that shot him full of something and apparently threw him into his car to sleep it off while she took off to god knows where dragging Sam behind, the blood trail his only lead to his little brother's whereabouts.

"Well, at least she left you IN the car instead of under it. How much blood are we talking about here anyway Dean? If what you're telling me is right, sounds like Sam should have bled out a long time ago." Leave it to Bobby to be the morbid voice of reason.

"It's just trickles here and there, I honestly haven't made it very far yet," again with that blank tone, the one that made his hairs stand on end.

"No bullshit, how far have you made it Dean?" He asked, not really sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"About a mile, maybe a little less."

That was all the older man needed to hear. He did actually have his keys in his hand, and now he was walking out the door. It had been hours since he'd talked to Dean the first time, and for him to only have gone a mile in that amount of time was not a good sign. "Dean, you continue following that trail and call me if you find anything. I am on my way. Don't do anything stupid until I get there. If I'm right, Sam's alive and breathing, at least 'till tomorrow."

"But Bobby…"

"NO BUTS BOY! I'm on my way!" He said nothing else, just slammed the phone shut and started the long drive, knowing full well Dean would do more stupid things then he could count before he got there and hoping none of them would get him killed.