Apologies for the delay in updating!

Song quotes in this chapter are from 'Lord I'm Discouraged' by The Hold Steady.

Chapter Three

Oct 31st 2130

Busy night.

She sipped at her drink, comfortable in her seat at the bar. Watching the crowd around her, fluttering in the last fleeting instants of their lives.

Too many souls, slipping away, torn free like cloth dancing in the wind.

Torn free by Sam Winchester.

Tessa grimaced, smoothing her hair back from her face, twisting on her seat to look at the man, huddled like a frightened victim in the corner. It was because of him that she was here.

Sam was here, coming here because of him. Searching, seeking for him.

Killing because of him.

She watched as Sam walked into the bar, that girl trailing in his wake, an obedient little dog at his heels. He looked around, searching, seeking, and she fought to control her shiver, almost cowering back on her stool as that dark, dangerous, powerful gaze swept across her.

She was safe, she told herself. Sam Winchester was not powerful enough to tear through the Veil.

Yet.

She was safe. Even his pet demon, even Lilith herself, wasn't powerful enough to see her, hidden in the shadows of human perception. Watching like a ghost, patiently, not interfering.

She knew she was supposed to be neutral, but...

Sam Winchester frightened her. Scared her to her very soul, her very core.

He was powerful. Strong and growing stronger. And if he got his hands on i....

From across the bar, she watched Sam and the man talk, his posture all arrogance and power, leaning over his frail opponent. Intimidating, wearing him down.

She saw him shake his head, saw Sam's eyes darken with anger and fury, his face contorted with darkness, his soul lost and swallowed by the rising, raging demon.

She brushed her hair back from her face and waited for the killing to start.

xxxXXXxxx

Nov 1st 0100

Sam stood in the middle of the small shop, staring helplessly at the collection of relics and fakes, all just means of prying money from desperate people, playing on their hopes and their fears.

Their faith.

Where would a man like that hide something that precious?

Absently he lifted an antique from the shelf, feeling it pulse, fragile beneath his fingertips. Throwing it over his shoulder, already looking away as it shattered, joining the mess, already broken and discarded on the floor.

"Any luck?"

"No." Ruby shook her head, her voice trembling. "They're not here."

"Dammit!" He felt the rage, the anger start to grow, hot as hell, and fought it down. He needed to think. "They must be somewhere."

If ever she'd prayed, Ruby prayed that he kept control. His temper could be frightening, raging out of control. Closing her eyes as he stepped closer, leaning over her slight form, trembling with rage and power.

If he chose to kill her, there'd be nothing she could do to stop him.

"Where else would he hide them, Ruby?" His voice was soft, the low rumbling growl of a wolf, ready to pounce. Reaching out a hand to pull her dark hair away from her face. "Where else would they be?"

A man like that....

A man who could do something like that...carry that burden of guilt, all those years...

He'd...

She found her voice. "He'd hide them in plain sight."

xxxXXXxxx

Nov 1st, 0015

"Lord, I'm sorry to question Your wisdom,

But my faith has been wandering

Wont You show me a sign

Let me know that You're listening."

Nothing answered his prayer, his plea for help, assistance. Nothing but the silence, the stillness of the cold, empty church.

Just an empty shell of a building. Nothing here but bricks and morter. Nothing here but unanswered prayers, wasted words blowing in the wind.

"Hello, Detective Flack."

"Fuck!"

He sprang to his feet, reaching for his gun, pulling it from his holster, finger tightening on the trigger, steadying it with his free arm, aiming down the aisle of the church, standing in the shadow of the cross.

She smiled as she walked towards him, her hair red, gleaming like a beacon. The only light in the dark of the night, leading him to salvation.

"My name is Anna."

xxxXXXxxx

Nov 1st 0030

This couldn't be him. This couldn't be his baby brother.

Dean sighed, walking carefully though the carnage, all neatly, tidily preserved by the NYPD. His brother couldn't have done this. Couldnt have left similar scenes across New York.

All the way from New Orleans.

He smiled bitterly, grimly.

"He's not my brother anymore."

His brother, Sam, Sammy Winchester, was gone.

"What have you done, Sammy?"

His low whispered voice, disturbing the ghosts, the shroud clustered around the scene. He could almost imagine them, wailing and crying in the darkness, in the shadows.

He wouldn't cry.

His brother was long gone. Sammy, whatever made him Sammy, was long gone. Buried and forgotten beneath the demon, beneath the lies and the bitterness.

Beneath whatever poison Ruby had fed him.

Whatever was left in his place, it wasn't Sam. Not anymore.

Whatever was left, it was tearing New York, America, apart, searching for something with the same cunning and intelligence he'd brought to the hunt.

"What are you looking for, Sam?"

He had to hunt his brother.

xxxXXXxxx

Nov 1st 0030

She couldn't believe it.

Lucy asleep in her arms, tiny fingers wrapped around her shirt, Lindsay paced across her apartment.

She couldn't believe it.

Not Sam. Not him. It couldn't be him. He'd always been such a sweet kid, so desperate to impress his elder brother, his father.

And now this.

She couldn't believe it.

It'd be like Mac taking a bribe, planting evidence. Or Flack being corrupt. Or Danny...

Or Danny...

She bit her lip, glancing nervously over her shoulder. Feeling like a traitor, like she was unfaithful for even thinking it. Like she was betraying him. Railing up old failings from the past.

And yet...

And yet.

Once the idea wormed its way into her head, it spread its wings, flourishing in her mind, spreading the word like gospel.

Spreading to parts of her she thought were faithful.

She sighed, settling into one of the chairs. Glancing at the clock, at hte window, at the city outside, at the lights gleaming like jewels in the dark sky.

Try as she might, she couldn't get it out of her mind. Try as she might, she knew Danny's history, knew what he was capable of. Knew what he had done.

But Sam...

She needed to know.

She needed to know. She needed to know the truth.

xxxXXXxxx

Flack walked back into the squadroom, still hearing the echoes, the last lingering breaths of his prayer.

The walls were still adorned with the now familiar dead faces, the list of names written belowe his in red ink, the names and faces he saw in his sleep, his nightmares.

Now...

"Flack? Where'd you do to?"

"I went for a walk, Danny."

He reached out a hand, pulling a pinned photo from the notice board, staring at it.

'I can catch this bastard. I can hunt him down and..."

"Flack..."

"Go home Danny." He replaced the photo and stepped back from the board. Planting his hands on his hips, staring at the puzzle, looking at it with fresh eyes. "Go home and see your family."

"What about you?" Danny staring at his friends, his eyes oddly penetrative, perceptive behind his glasses.

"I'm going to stay for a bit longer."

Dawn followed even the darkest night.

xxxXXXxxx

Oct 31st 2135

He had always been a good soldier. Marching through to her side with all the discipline and poise he could muster, the memory of a thousand forced marches still imprinted on his muscles.

Tessa was waiting on him, her white dress contrasting with her raven dark hair, blowing in a gentle breeze.

Safe, for the moment, from the carnage. From Sam Winchester's anger.

"Hello, Jack."

"So this is it?" He looked around, non plussed, preparing to spit, then changing his mind after glancing at her. "I'm finally dead."

"Yes."

He frowned, his skin creasing, contorting like a map, folding in on itself as his life flittered away. Dead. Finally dead. After all this time.

"And what about down there?"

"Down there..." She turned her sad eyes on the wreckage of the bar, the scars of Sam Winchester's wrath. "Doesn't concern you anymore."

At least until Sam Winchester mounted his attack.

And then all of Earth, and all of Heaven would tremble at his coming.

xxxXXXxxx

Nov 1st 0130

Sam hunched over his laptop, his eyes fixed on the screen, his fingers hovering, not quite touching the keyboard.

This had always worked in the past.

And when it hadn't....when it hadn't worked, Dean had always been there, been able to chase down a lead.

Round about now, just as he was contemplating through his laptop across the room, the phone would ring.

His phone started to ring.

He stared at it for a second, wondering if he had fallen into a trap, a haze of his own memories, his own needs, addictions. Ruby had warned him....

Then he realised his phone was ringing.

He snatched it up, flipping it open, listening, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Hello, Lindsay."

End of Chapter Three.