Kayenta, Arizona

Consciousness returned to Sam slowly. Muffled voices grew louder and louder with each passing second until they became deafening. He raised his arm to stiffel it, only to feel incredilbly sore. Especially his chest. It felt as if a linebacker was sitting on top of it. He shifted slightly, alerting those in the room that he was waking up. Shuffled feet made their way towards him.

"Sam?"

He immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Bobby.

"I'll get Dr. Krill," said another, huskier voice that Sam didn't recognized.

As he blinked, images slowly came into focus.

"You gave me quite a scare there boy," Bobby said as he grabbed Sam by the hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"I heard he's awake," said a softer, obviously feminine voice from the other side of the room.

"Yeah, just now," Bobby said turning in the direction of the voice, his hand never leaving Sam's.

"Hey, there Sam. Its nice to see you up and around," she said extending her hand out to Sam. "I'm Dr. Stephenie Krill. "

"Like the fish?"

"Yeah, like the fish," she laughed. "I have my ex-husband Burt to thank for that one. Please, call me Stephenie."

"Its nice to meet you Stephenie," Sam shaking her extended hand.

"Do you remember what happened?" Stephenie replied as she let go of Sam's hand and placed a clipboard on a nearby table.

"Bobby and I were on our way here. I had this dream . . . and the pain. There was a lot of pain."

"Yeah," Stephenie said as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you tell me a little bit more about that dream?"

Sam gave Bobby a hesitant look. Catching on to his wary behavior they elder hunter gave an approving nod.

"My brother," Sam whispered for the first time noticing the weakness in his own voice. "I had a dream that he was in trouble."

"What kind of trouble," Bobby asked curiously.

Sam swallowed before slowly recounting to those in the room the nature of his dream about Dean. Taking note that each reaction was slightly different. Bobby, who squeezed his hand even tighter, was frought with concern and fear. Two nurses and an orderly whose nametag read ED, seemed to go about their business as if the story he was telling was something more commonplace. He then turned to the good doctor, whose face was blank, but whose eyes gleamed with a strange knowing. As if he was confirmiing something she had long suspected. When he had finished, he turned to the doctor, his face scrunched in anger.

"You don't seem very suprised by this?" he said as his anger began to rise up within him. "Why?"

Stephenie looked to Bobby, who let go of Sam's hand.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he stated as he got up and abruptly left the room.

"Bobby - "

Stephenie turned to the others in the room.

"Leave us and close the door behind you!"

Sam was taken aback by the sudden authority of her voice. The others in the room stopped what they were doing and did as she asked. When the door was finally shut, Stephenie turned to him, a look so hideous it could kill sprang across her face.

"After a full exam and consultation with your previous medical records, I found that your illness was not caused by your accident."

"But the other doctors were certain that it was."

"Your other doctors said what they did because it was the closest thing they could think of that made any type of sense to them. They wouldn't know what it was they were really looking at."

"And you do?"

"Its called Áńt'į. Corpse poison."

"Corpse poison?"

"Yeah, its made from grinding up the bones of the dead, particularly children. Its a substance used often in The Witchery Way, Navajo witchcraft, particulary in hexes."

"I've been hexed?"

"Not in the sense that you understand it. More like supernaturally poisoned. You would have had to ingested it."

"Is there an antidote?"

Stephenie looked to Sam sadly, "No."

Sam tried to keep his emotions from getting the better of him. "But when? And why?"

"Does the name Molly Leonard ring a bell?"

Sam nodded as painful memories began to resurface, "Yeah, I knew her. I got her killed."

"She's also the reason you were hexed. Her father Cyrus is a known practioner of The Witchery Way."

"So I'm being punished for getting her killed?"

"No, you're being punished for killing her."

"But I didn't."

"Cyrus doesn't know that. He knows of your shaky past and your sudden, mysterious return from the depths of Hell. Its not that much of a stretch for him to think the worst."

Sam hung his head in guilt and shame as free tears began to spill from his face. Stephenie looked at him with saddenend, yet resolved.

"You didn't kill Molly. She wasn't targeted because of you."

"I highly doubt that."

"I know that. The thing that you were hunting is something else my people know all too well. Its why I made everyone leave the room. To speak of it is forbidden. To even mention the creature by name strikes fear in the hearts of many."

"But not you?"

"I've seen many things. There is very little that frightens me anymore."

"What kind of creature is this?"

"Its called Yee Naaldlooshii. Or to put it simply: Skin-Walker."

"I've read about those. They're like the Native American equivlaent to shapeshifters."

"Actually, more like Native American equivalent to werewolves. Long ago, practioners of the Witchery Way used to use pelts of animals to transform themselves into that animal as a way to spy on enemies or deliver curses to their victims. It is said that one day a Practioner crossed paths with The Dark Man. And that The Dark Man showed the Practioner that if he were to drink the blood of the animal instead of simly where it pelt it could transform at will. So the Practioner did just that. And just as The Dark Man said he could transform into that animal at will. However the transformation did not last long and the Practioner drank more blood. He continued drinking until finally he had drank so much that he found he could no longer turn back into human form. That he had become the animal. Desperate and frightened, he looked for a way to turn back. He went to The Dark Man who told him that what he said that if he want to turn back into a human, he had to drink the blood of a human. And so the Practioner did just that. But like it was with the animal, the transformation did not last long. However, no matter how much human blood the Practioner drank he would never fully turn back to a human being again. He realized he had been tricked by The Dark Man. This was not a gift. It was his curse. It would be the price he and all those who descended from him would pay for his insatisable greed. And so the Skin-Walkers roam, feeding on the living, in the hopes of one day consuming enough blood to break them of their curse."

"And you think that's what killed Molly?"

"I know it is. And not just her. We maybe hear of a dozen deaths a year we can link directly to a Skin-Walker. Within the last eighteen months there has been eighty seven confirmed dead. All localized in and around the Four Corners."

"But what does any of this have to do with my being poisoned?"

"There is nothing medically that can be done for you. Its what makes the curse so nasty. But if we can find this Skin-Walker, they may be our only hope of saving you."