Dean was in a room, white walls, blindingly bright, stone silent, icy cold. Some parts of hell weren't hot, the frozen parts held their own agonies. The air phased in front of him and a demon appeared, wait it was a man, a human. There was something not right here, but he couldn't seem to grab onto the thoughts hovering in the back of his mind.

The man walked up to Dean, painfully close. He could hear the man whispering in Latin quietly. Without warning the man shoved his hand into Deans chest between his ribs. He was powerless to move, the pain was all consuming.

"They say there is evil in hell, but you are the evil on earth. I am the last of my line, but I will outlive you Dean Winchester."

The man twisted his hand and pulled, and Dean saw his heart still beating ripped from his chest. He felt himself fall to his knees with the shock and agony. He reached up to cover the gaping hole and felt his life flowing out between his fingers.

A sound crept into his awareness and he latched onto it. It all ran together but it let him breathe, made the pain dim. He could almost feel his heart back in his chest. It was music, he had heard it before somewhere. It was a hymn, he knew it. This couldnt't be real, because there were no hymns in hell, only wailing screams or a crushing void. He let the sound roll over him and the pain and the blood washed away. He looked up at the man and he saw his heart dissolve into nothing in his hand.

"I am coming for you," the man said smiling." There is nothing that can protect you from me, and the magic to kill a warlock has been forgotten for centuries, I will drag you to hell myself. Oh the times we will have! You and I will be very special friends again Dean. This will be the last face you see."

oo000o0o0oo0o0o0o

They were running out of fluids. There was no way to lift more from the EMTs, the hospital would be much more careful after everything they had stolen. Sam had wandered out to pick up food and supplies. The bar staff had been told that he was the new tenant so he could come and go without notice. Kim figured that leaving the place closed would draw more attention than that little white lie. Life downstairs was going on as if nothing had happened, as if there were no demons, no magic, no curses or monsters. No half dead hunter on the bed. Had she ever been that naive?

She began to hum to herself. It was a nervous habit but no one was here to see it. She took her iPod out and hit shuffle, Josh Grobin popped up first and You Raise Me Up started to play through the tinny speaker. She sang with it briefly then gave up and went back to humming while she gathered supplies.

"Dean, Dean honey you need to roll over so I can change your dressing." she said, not expecting a reply. She rolled him over with some difficulty and peeled off the tape. She had enough supplies for maybe two more days and with any luck that would be all they needed. She put on gloves and pulled the gauze out of the wound, fairly pleased that the drainage was no longer a product of infection, the hole still gaped but it was healing from the inside. The scar would be horrific but he should live. He shouldn't be delirious, the whole thing made no sense.

Dean mumbled with the change in position, there was a look of distress on his face, he maybe even looked confused. She considered rolling him on his side since she was done. As she packed up the mess she looked at Dean for the first time, really looked at his face. The swelling was gone, the bruising was faded to yellow. He was really very pretty, almost beautiful. Too bad he was such a miserable jerk. She pushed him onto his side and jammed pillows behind him to stop him from rolling back.

On his shoulder was the most bizarre scar, in the shape of a hand print. She ran her finger over its raised surface, wondering what could have caused it. Her first thought was chemical burn, but no, it wasn't a heat injury either. It was raised, but not tight like a ropy scar from sharp injury. She placed her hand directly over it, judging it to be the size of a man's hand not a woman's. It looked angry but felt soft. How odd.

His hand shot up and covered hers. She tried to pull back but he held her there. When she looked at his face his eyes were open..

"Cas." he mumbled.

"No, its not Cas honey, can stay awake up for me Dean?" He mumbled again and she climbed onto the bed to try to hear what he was saying as a crease of frustration or pain formed between his eyes. He grabbed at his chest and screwed his eyes shut, grimacing.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, they were the purest mossy green. "Warlock."

"No, no I'm not! Sam will be right back Dean. Try to stay awake for me." she said as his eyes drifted shut again.

Kim grabbed Dean's phone off the table and saw the only saved number was Sam's. She called it.

"Dean?" Sam answered.

"Ya, not quite." she responded . "Look I don't know if this is important, but Dean came around for a minute and thought I was someone named Cas. He said something, warlock, just that one word. He is out again now, I couldn't keep him awake."

"There are no warlocks, they are extinct. There are male witches yes, but not warlocks. I'm coming back."

As she put the phone in her pocket Dean roused again and pulled out his IV, he reached back and pulled the dressing off she had just sealed then reached to yank off the one covering his shoulder.

He attempted to struggle off the bed and managed to almost make it to a standing position before his knees buckled. His eyes frantically scanned the room. "Sam?" he said. Then "SAAAAAMMMM!" loud enough to shake the walls.

"Shhhhhhhhh, Dean, you have to calm down, someone will hear you, we're hiding remember?"

"SAAAAAAAM!" he yelled before his eyes rolled back.

Blood leaked from the IV site onto the formerly clean sheets, he was half off the bed and probably way to heavy for her to lift. She wondered what else could go wrong until she heard banging on the door.

"Hey is everything alright in there?" mans voice demanded."

Perfect, she thought, just perfect.

O0o0o00oo0o0o00o0o0o

"Hey, what's going on?" Kim said opening the door with a plastic smile.

"Oh, I didn't know you were up here, is everything OK? I heard yelling." The burly bartender looked over her shoulder into the room trying to push past her.

"Its all good. He was just having a nightmare, PTSD, you know. I've got it."

Sam jogged up the stairs and paused seeing that they had company.

"You must be the new tenant. I'm Jack the bartender downstairs." The man offered a hand shake.

"Constantine." Sam said in greeting.

"Ah." the man said sizing Sam up. "My neighbor Natalie mentioned you. I'll just get back, nice to meet you." He said with a smirk, heading back down the stairway.

"Oh, you suck." she said to Sam.

"You started it." He said.

Sam locked the door behind him and lifted Dean back onto the bed." So tell me what happened."

"I already did, he got a little agitated after that, but that's it."

Out of the blue a crack of thunder shook the walls. Sam turned to the window and saw clouds rolling in to cover a clear blue sky. Lightening struck a utility pole outside the building as torrential rainfall began to fall. The lights flickered off.

"We have to put up wards to keep whatever this is out. There are too many windows, I don't think I'm gonna have time."

"Can I help? What the heck is a ward?" She said watching people outside run for cover from the storm.

Sam grabbed a marker and drew four symbols on her forearm. Copy these onto the door, and under the windows. Be exact or they wont work."

Sam grabbed a can of spray paint from his bag and ran to begin placing the wards across the walls. If they hurried maybe they would have a chance.