Dean was shaking my shoulder, trying to get me to wake. I REALLY didn't want to, but I obliged him by groaning and cracking open one eye. It was the middle of the night, but I could tell we had slowed down. A sign flashed by, advertising a Kansas rest stop up ahead.

"Kansas?" I grumbled, sitting up. "I've been out for two days?"

Dean frowned. "No, only a couple of hours."

I was trying to calculate the math in my head when he said something that made my blood freeze.

"Nebraska isn't that far from Kansas."

Nebraska? I had met them in Nebraska? But I thought...no, Midi, calm down. You can't afford to freak out now.

I decided to distract myself by asking a question that had bothered me since we had left Sam behind. "Dean?"

"Yeah, kid?"

It took all my willpower to not slap him. "How did Celeste, I mean Charlie, die?"

Dean slammed his foot on the brake, causing me to fly forward. I heard a pretty crunch sound come from my wrist, and I bit my lip to stifle the scream.

He was staring at me, I know it. But I couldn't help it. I NEEDED to know.

"Charlie died doing something Sam asked her to do," he began, his voice full of hurt. I glanced over and saw his green eyes beginning to fill with tears. "But it was my fault Sam asked her to do it in the first place."

"Sam said he was sacrificing himself to atone for Charlie's death..." I recalled, drawing comparisons between both Winchesters' grief. They both felt responsible. What had happened?

Dean looked over, concern etched in the lines on his face. "Why would he say he needed atonement?"

I hesitated, but the tingle pressed me on. "Well...Charlie died saving you and I'm her sister. By saving the closest amalgamation of Charlie he could find (her blood and her work), maybe he felt that he could fix the fault he had in her death?"

Dean's face was crestfallen. The tingle told me that Charlie's death wasn't just difficult; it was recent. Like the past couple of days recent.

"It's all my fault..." he whispered.

Before I could ask him what he meant, a semi truck squealed past us, it's horn blaring in the late night air. We both jumped. We were still on the highway, and not out of danger yet. Dean hit the gas and pulled back on the highway.

But I still had one question.

"Dean, who's Cas?"

He smirked. Good. At least he was cheering up. I knew it wouldn't last long though.

"Cas is a, uh, friend." He stated, before pursing his lips and flicking his eyes over to me. I knew he was leaving out information, but I knew it wouldn't last long, not with a look like that.

He sighed, obviously giving up. "Cas is an angel."

Angel?

"Wait, angels exist?" I looked out at the night sky, expecting to see some cherub looking boys flitting about in the night.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, they do. I didn't believe they existed for the longest time, not until I met Cas. Castiel has helped us out of several scrapes in the past. I only hope he was able to help Sam." His hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.

We sat in silence for the next few minutes while Dean pulled off the highway and onto a little dirt road. He pulled up to a heavy looking garage door set in a hillside. I could see a building the size of a factory rising up over the hill. I wonder if the two are connected?

Dean punched a button on an old remote, and the garage door slid open without a sound. Lights began turning on automatically as we drove in, and the door shut behind us. I could hear locks clicking into place, reminding me that this was a bunker, meant to protect against large scale attacks.

Dean parked at the end of a row of very nice old cars. He then proceeded to hop out and rush around to my side, holding the door open. His lip was twitching.

Something was off, and I knew what it was. He was coming to.

I snatched up my bag and the dagger before getting out of the car. Dean led me through the garage and into the main building. I caught a glimpse of a large open foyer type place with a column of twisting stairs at the other end of the room before he was leading me through the various twists and turns of the underground bunker. The tingle informed me that this bunker was built by the Men of Letters in the forties, using the factory above as a disguise to hide their operations. I didn't care so much, because Dean had started to radiate hatred.

He knew what had happened, he just didn't know why. All he knew was that I was the cause. I wasn't sure how long I had before he snapped.

"Here," he grounded out, fighting for control. We had stopped at a room that was sparsely decorated, but the decorations it did have matched my tastes. All geek, no chic.

I stepped inside to investigate when Dean suddenly dove forward and snatched the knife out of my hand. I whipped around, terror filling me when I saw his eyes.

They were no longer green.

They were wholly black.

I screamed, dropping my bag as I scrambled backwards, tripping over the desk. I landed heavily on the floor and heard my bad ankle and my wrist both snap in protest.

However, my scream must have resolved something inside him, for he blinked and his green eyes returned. He looked momentarily confused before shutting the door with enough force to make the pictures around me rattle.

I limped over to the door, trying to turn the handle. It was locked, and wouldn't budge.

"Dean! Let me out!" I shouted, listening to his retreating footsteps. I pounded my good fist against the door, hoping against hope that he would come back.

He did, after a minute. But I could hear the chair being dragged along for the ride. The door jolted under my hand, and my tingle unhelpfully updated me, saying he had just jammed it under the handle.

I wasn't going anywhere.

"Dean..." I whispered, feeling the fear creep up my throat, cutting off my voice.

"I'm going back for Sam and Cas. I'll be back in 12 hours. I don't care if you're hungry or have to go to the bathroom. You'll starve and hold it. And when I get back, you're going to explain to me what happened." He informed me through the door, his voice laced with venom and rage.

I heard his footsteps recede down the hall and a distant slamming of a door.

Then silence.

I couldn't help it. I screamed out his name, begging him to come back, to let me out, that I was sorry.

I screamed myself raw, even bashing my injured hand against the door over and over again until I was numb to the pain.

I finally stopped after an hour or so, choking on my tears. I wasn't even upset that he had left. No, I had deserved that. I was, however, terrified by my situation.

I turned to face my fear, only to see the room walls move closer together, my space getting smaller and smaller. I knew it was only a trick of my mind, but I couldn't help it.

Claustrophobia.

I passed out due to hyperventilation.


I awoke to the sound of footsteps.

"Dean?" I called out, picking myself off the floor. My ankle was sore and my wrist was swollen. I still hadn't bandaged them because I hadn't had time. So much had happened...

I hobbled over to the door, calling out once more.

"Dean? Can you let me out now? I'm sorry for earlier...I'll tell you everything, promise!"

The footsteps paused. My heart soared. I would be getting out of this confining room.

My door flew open and I almost ran out, except the man standing in the doorway was not Dean.

Or Sam.

I barely had time to register the black eyes and handsome features before my good foot connected with his nether regions.

The man doubled over, allowing me to bash his nose in with my knee. He crumpled to the floor, giving me time to move.

Black eyes equal bad. Bad equals Darkness. I ran over to my bag where I had dropped it earlier and kicked it under the bed. Hopefully I could distract the intruder long enough for the Winchesters to come back. I'd relocate the bag then.

I ran back to check on the guy to find a flaw with my plan. I heard more footsteps coming down the hall.

I did the only thing I was good at. I ran out of the room and ran away from the approaching steps. It was difficult, my ankle screaming the whole time.

"Grab her!" I heard a voice yell. Before I could look around to get a good look at him, I ran into an outstretched arm, which promptly threw me down.

My head bounced off the floor, and I went unconscious for the fifth time in 24 hours.


"Wake up!"

I was shocked awake by a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head. I gasped, my eyes flying open to see a handful or so black-eyed men and women gathered in a loose semi-circle around me. The one who had dumped the water had dried blood crusted on his upper lip. It was the guy I had nailed in my room. He simply snarled at me before joining the others. I looked down to see I was tied to a chair, the rope cutting off circulation in some places. The tingle informed me that I was in the main foyer, and I could see the staircase rising behind the intruders.

A woman hopped off a table in the center and sauntered forward, her black eyes calculating. (Well, at least I THINK they were calculating. It was hard to discern with all the black.)

"Where are the Winchesters?" She purred, slowly stalking further towards me. I had see several feral cats do that to unsuspecting mice. I wasn't stupid.

The tingle changed my answer before I realized why.

"Ne-North Dakota." I stuttered.

Her eyes narrowed. "You hesitated."

My teeth started chattering of their own accord. "N-no. I'm c-cold." I managed to get out, looking accusingly at the man I attacked earlier.

This time, she hesitated. "Why would you give them up so easily?"

I glared at her. "For your r-record, I was th-their p-p-prisoner!" That wasn't true, but I knew the tingle was protecting both me and the Winchesters.

The lady leaned in close, and whispered a terrifying phrase that stilled my teeth.

"I don't believe you."

She leaned back and lashed her nails across my face. Three burning lines of pain flared on my cheek, and I cried out. I felt blood trickle down my face.

Protect the Winchesters.

I don't know why that was my goal, but I knew it was important. They had risked their lives to save me. I had to do the same for them. No matter what, I would not reveal their location.

I raised my eyes to those of the hateful bitch who had marred my face. "I'll never tell you where they are. I'd rather die."

She raised one perfect eyebrow. "So be it. I'll just torture it out of you then."


The torture lasted for hours. They used silver blades, slowly dragging them along my arms, laughing at my screams. The blades cauterized the wound as it went, meaning I wasn't bleeding out by any means.

At one point, after I had managed to get a leg free and perform an encore on my original attacker, he whistled. Suddenly my bad leg (which was the one I kicked him with) was on fire. It felt like an invisible Rottweiler was trying to rip my leg off. The tingle told me hellhound, then made the connection to demons from there. I was surrounded by demons. A vision of Dean's black eyes flashed behind my eyelids, and it scared me enough to tear my leg free and kick the hellhound in the face. It must have only been a puppy, the way it whined and scampered away (it was hard to tell, since it was invisible).

The demons all laughed, petting the hellhound as it passed by them. I realized that I had no idea how to kill a demon. How was I ever going to get out of here?

The torture varied from mind-numbing terror/pain to mild annoyances. But with each passing hour, as the methods began to drift towards almost killing me, I began to worry that Dean might come back. And I had no idea where he would stand. Would he help me? Or would his eyes turn black as he joined in the fun?


"Stop."

They removed the water soaked cloth from my mouth and righted my chair. I coughed up as much water as I could, knowing the potential of dry drowning.

A handsome demon with chocolate skin approached, his smile kind (so I knew it was a lie). He was the only one who had yet to participate.

"Ma'am, what is your name?" he drawled politely, one of his hands snaking out to gently grab a lock of my wet hair. Creeper.

"Midi," I responded automatically. I felt the tension on that lock increase, and I found my head being slowly drawn back to look him in the eyes. They were like two black marbles: lifeless.

"Tut, tut." He whispered, his white teeth abnormally bright against his dark lips. "Full name, not nickname."

I frowned. My tingle started going off like crazy, but I couldn't help but be honest to this man.

"Pandora Harmony Middleton."

He released my hair as if he had been burned. The room was full of a hissing sound, which I realized was coming from all of the demons combined, as well as the one hellhound. The bitch from earlier rushed over, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Anthony, could it be?" she whispered, eying me with awe. I saw similar expressions on those of her colleagues.

The words that the Coven had imparted came back to me, and I realized what a mistake I had made.

"Mara, fetch me a blade." Anthony said, almost with a sort of reverence. The lady dashed off towards the table, grabbing a silver blade quickly.

I started struggling against my bonds. Shit, why did I have to open my stupid mouth?!

"Restrain her better!" Anthony barked, taking the blade from Mara. Two more demons rushed forward with rope and duct tape. They taped my mouth shut and redid the bonds on my legs, ignoring my muffled screams of protest and pain. No...this can't be it!

Anthony grabbed the back of my chair, tipping it forward. I found myself staring at the tiled floor.

I knew we were in a large room, with the library just next door, but I hadn't realized how well sound travelled. Perhaps it was on purpose, so all would know when an attack started, or so that no secrets could be kept here. Whatever the reason, it allowed me to listen to my death sentence with burning clarity.

"Fellow demons!" So, I was right. Yay for me. "We came here looking to kill the Winchesters, only to find the secret to immortal life!" Anthony's voice echoed down the halls and reverberated back, making it seem like thousands of Anthony's were trying to speak at once.

I saw a drop of water hit the ground below me. I pretended it was from the drowning treatment, but I couldn't hid the truth from myself. I was about to die and cause the end of days. Crying was totally normal.

"Prepare for endless death!" He boomed, bring the blade to my throat. The room roared with approval.

I closed my eyes, and waited for the end.