Author's note: Um, okay so it's been forever since I last updated... Only excuse? I lost interest. I get bored really easily. I got Season 5 of Supernatural for Christmas and watched it. And the obsession just came back. I had a chat with my co-writer and we decided to try and continue the story. For how long this time? I'm not sure. But hopefully it will be a while.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Supernatural, those rights go to Eric Kripke. But I do however own the personalities of both Sara Collins and Jamie Leslie.


Chapter Seven: Highway to Hell

MILES FROM GRAND RIVER CITY

"We could have taken them! Why did you stop me? We ran from them like cowards! He is not going to be happy about this, Lucius."

Lucius stayed leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. His tall frame was relaxed, which only further angered Missy. She stood by his side for centuries and they rarely disagreed on anything, but this time it was different. Running away from the Winchesters was a poor decision, especially when the women were there for the take. Hell, Jamie Leslie was there too, dammit. How could Lucius run away and pull her along from such an opportunity.

"Answer me!"

He opened his eyes then. "There is no need to raise your voice. We have time."

Missy wanted to rip him into shreds, but she fought the urge. Instead, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest to rid away the temptation.

Lucius stepped away from the wall and approached her. She craned her head to look up at him. Why did he choose to possess such a tall man? Missy looked extremely small in comparison, but she liked this body, it matched her well.

Then, he grabbed her chin and kissed her roughly. It had been a long time since they've been intimate—ever since the damn Winchesters showed up a second time. The anger slowly simmered away and when he pulled away, she wished he hadn't. She still had a hint of a rage inside her and sex was the best way to satisfy that rage. But they didn't have the time. They needed to find a way to get rid of the Winchesters once and for all, so they could finish what they started.

Missy gazed into Lucius' gray eyes, and she hated the colour. She loved his black eyes; they always had so much power over her.

Now calm, Missy asked, "What are you thinking, Lucius? What should we do?"

Lucius' hand traced her cheek, down to her neck, collar bone and shoulder. Missy shivered, longing for his touch. "We will deal with the Winchesters first, and if we plan this right, Collins and Leslie should walk right toward our doorstep."

"Jamie Leslie especially," Missy reminded him. "He wants her the most."

"If Collins comes, Leslie will follow. We'll have them both and have the Winchesters dead before long." He grinned then, the sinister, devilish grin Missy always loved.

Missy grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a hungry kiss. He immediately responded, rising up her small frame against his body. She barred her teeth into a sly smile. Maybe they had time for sex after.


GRAND RIVER CITY, LOUISIANA

After the undesired ordeal with the demons, Dean sped the Impala as fast as he was able to back to the River Lodge Motel. He didn't focus on parking straight as he stopped the vehicle into a slot. In that instant he turned off the engine. Both brothers were out of the car in a mere second.

"Sara, are you okay?" Jamie asked, rubbing her back soothingly.

Sara was crouched forward, one hand holding onto her shoulder blade, the other arm wrapped tightly around her stomach. She was rocking back and forth, the infliction still very much present. She was inhaling deeply, making Jamie worry more. Her door then drew open, and Jamie looked up.

"C'mon," Sam whispered as he lent out a hand. His big eyes held concern and care, his brows furrowed with worry. His tall frame was slouched with reserved exertion. Jamie didn't say anything when she took his hand, and he pulled her out of the car.

Dean reached the side of Sara's door, pulling it open. She flinched at the sound of it creaking, her face buried into her knees, a curtain of chestnut brown waves concealing her face.

"Sara," Dean whispered and knelt down to her level. "Sara, c'mon."

Sara unburied her head then, turning to look at him. Wet streaks crossed her cheeks and down to her chin. She'd been crying.

Sara caught her bottom lip in between her teeth, her eyes glazed over. "It hurts."

"I know, sweetheart," he soothed. He lent out his hand and brushed her elbow. "C'mon, you'll be safer in the motel. Can you stand?"

Sara was hesitant to answer. "I d-don't know."

"Dean."

He looked up, seeing Sam watch him with desperation and urgency. Just like Sam, he didn't feel safe being outside either. In one quick motion, Dean swooped Sara into his arms and closed the door to his Impala. Sara had gasped, but not with surprise. She gasped in horror, clenching her shoulder tighter, just where it rested against his own. Dean practically jogged into room number nine.

Sam quickly unlocked it. "Is she going to be alright?"

Dean looked up at him, his brows bunched. He hoped the look on his face would give him the answer. Immediately he entered inside.

"Here, put her on the bed," Jamie said, pushing away a few of her magazines.

Dean set her down gently onto the mattress and she winced. "Sara, did they hurt you?"

Sam had closed the door, and began filling in the line of salt that had been broken.

When Sara didn't answer, Dean looked up to Jamie for help. She nodded once and sat beside her friend, whom had been crouched over just as before.

"Sara, hon, let me help you take off your jacket."

Dean looked at Jamie with confusion, finding her sentence completely out of place in the situation. Sara was reluctant when Jamie began tugged at her brown leather biker jacket from her, positioning her arms to slide it off. Dean's eyes widened, the white t-shirt she wore underneath drenched in blood at her left shoulder blade.

"Shit," he gasped. "I'll go find something to bandage you up." Dean stood up.

Sara caught his hand and held it tightly. "No. Wait." Her voice was drained, the pain in her eyes still evident. She looked up at him. She looked so tired.

Weakly, she pulled on his hand, gesturing him back to the bed. "Sit," she whispered.

Dean looked at Sam questionably. But his younger brother only looked more bemused than he was. Reluctant, Dean took a seat on the edge of the mattress beside her. He squinted at the red splotch on her back, so emphasized against the white of her shirt.

"I have something to tell you guys," she rasped. She inhaled a big gulp of air and didn't say anything for a while.

"Go on, honey," Jamie said, her hand on her shoulder.

For a brief moment, Sara looked up at Sam and then Dean. She looked frightened. Bringing her hand from her shoulder, she looked down on it. Blood had begun to soak her finger tips. Dean gripped the sheets of the bed to try and stop himself from jumping on his feet and finding that damned first aid.

"The day I was attacked by the demons…They did something to my shoulder." Sara inhaled again. "Jamie, can you help me?"

Quickly, Jamie helped Sara tug the back of her shirt over her head so her whole back was exposed. Her long hair fell back into place, and she strained herself to pull her hair around her neck. Her left shoulder blade was red with blood. Before Dean could blink, Sara brought her hand to the blood and wiped it. A muffled groan came from between her lips.

"Th-they gave this to me."

Under all the blood, Dean could see burnt flesh. But it was something he'd never seen before. It looked like a brand, a brand of an inverted pentagram surrounded in a circle. A face of a goat appeared inside of the pentagram.

The Sigil of Baphomet.

Her shoulders sagged as she lowered her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Dean hadn't realized Sam was beside him, looking down at the branded demonic symbol. His jaw was taut, his eyes squinted.

"That explains the symbol being in your sketchbook."

Sara jerked her head up. "You looked through my sketchbook?" Her voice wasn't outraged as Dean would have expected it to be. Instead, it was alarm.

Sam sighed and sent her a look of apology. "I'm sorry. That was one of the reasons why we interrogated the both of you earlier. We didn't know."

Dean reached out to touch it, and Sara immediately recoiled away. He frowned. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yes," she answered. "I have...something else I need to say." Her brows furrowed. Her hands held tight on her shirt that she held clenched over her chest. "This thing had begun hurting randomly ever since we got here. That's until I realized it wasn't random at all." She closed her eyes. "I feel the pain whenever the demons are near. Missy, the demon girl, had me down on the ground in just a few seconds after I felt the pinch on my shoulder. I think they have control over it, whether it will hurt me or not."

Jamie sighed and stood up. "I'm going to find something to clean the blood." She left toward the bathroom, coming back in a few short seconds with a wet cloth. She dabbed it onto the brand and Sara moaned. It was still tender.

"Oh God," Sara whispered. "It hasn't stopped hurting." She bit down on her bottom lip, and inhaled sharply through her nose. Her eyes began to water again and she flinched every time the wet cloth touched her.

Dean found himself placing his hand on her arm for support. She suddenly grabbed it, and held tightly. He welcomed the pressure. Her face was so contorted in pain. He wished he could do something. Letting her squeeze his hand as Jamie dabbed away the blood was the best he could do.

"Maybe…," Sam started, his eyes thoughtful, "maybe they're using that symbol to track us down, like their own little homing device." Sam brought a hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched as if it hurt for him to think. "Maybe the pain your feeling, Sara, is their way of looking for you. The more it hurts, the closer they are."

Sara had craned her neck to look up at the younger brother. Again she looked frightened. "That would mean…" She covered her eyes with her hand just before the tears that hung from the rims of her eyes began to fall. "Oh my God. They must have been close to the motel when I…" Her voice broke.

Dean gently squeezed her hand. "When you what, Sara?"

Sara only shook her head, her eyes still covered.

"One night she texted me," Jamie spoke up for the first time in several minutes. "While she was in the shower, the brand began bleeding. She told me she felt a terrible pain. And in just a few minutes it was gone. Just like that."

Dean looked back at Sara, who shuddered. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"I wanted to," she whispered. She was silent then and Dean expected she wouldn't say anything more.

"She was scared," Jamie answered for her. She looked up at Dean then, her eyes held understanding. "She was afraid of what you might say, keeping something like this from you. She didn't want to worry you, saying that you already had enough on your plate. I wanted her to tell you, but then I realized how the outcome would be if she did." Jamie looked away and began dabbing again, Sara's back going rigid. "We understand you don't trust us, Dean. Sara was worried how you might have reacted because of that fact."

Dean could see pain on her face, the same look of pain she had when he accused her of lying, forcing her to tell him why she truly ran away from home when she was a little girl. The same pain she held when she looked at him with tears in her eyes before leaving out the door and slamming it behind her. He felt his stomach churn.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know I've been a pompous dick to both of you." Sara looked at him then, Jamie doing the same. "It's just, the stress of finding our father and not knowing why the hell demons are looking for you and how they know you…I just didn't know if I could trust you two. And when Sam came up to me, telling me about your ability to see the spirit before he did, and finding the Sigil of Baphomet in your sketchbook, Sara, I just snapped." He looked at Jamie apologetically. "I'm sorry I attacked you like that, Jamie. If I knew you had been…" Dean couldn't say the words.

Jamie's bottom lip trembled, and she sniffed back the tears that were beginning to form. "I forgive you. Sara was right. I overreacted. There was no way you could have known about my past." Her voice wavered, and her eyes looked very far away. Sara brought up her other hand, resting it on her knee. Jamie smiled then, but it didn't reach her eyes. She brought her attention back on the blood, and continued cleaning it away. "Can I ask something?"

"Go ahead," Sam spoke. He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down, facing the three of them.

"How does one have paranormal sight?" Jamie's voice was small, strained. She still refused to look at them.

Dean exchanged a soulful look to his brother. Sam looked back toward Jamie. "Sometimes, but rarely, they can be born with it. Or in most cases seeing death, or even being near death can sensitize a person to gain psychic tendencies, giving them the ability to see the other side."

Clearly, Dean could see Jamie's body tense and Sara's hand on her knee tightened. Sara looked at Jamie, and she returned the stare. Both were having a silent discussion. Dean knew the looks well. Sam and he had them often.

A look of anguish struck Jamie's face. Dean visibly saw her swallow hard and her jaw tightened. He saw a look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. The same look of pain returned and Dean found his heart tightening. She was remembering something of her past, Dean decided. He couldn't imagine what she had gone through as a child. John Winchester wasn't father of the year, Dean knew, but he was still a good father. Jamie never had the opportunity to have a loving father.

Sam then cleared his throat. "We need to know what our next move is going be."

Dean let out an audible sigh. "We can't stay here. The demons know where the motel is. For all we know they could be outside the door."

Sara shook her head. "No, I don't think they are." Her hand in his loosened and she slipped it away. "The pain is weakening."

Sam frowned. "No matter where we go, because Sara has that brand on her back, they'll know where we are. They'll always be a step ahead."

"Maybe not," Dean said. "We can use it to our advantage." He looked at Sara then. "You can help us, Sara. Whenever you feel it hurting, you can warn us." He looked back at Sam. "We'll have the advantage. We'll always be a step ahead."

Sara gave a small smile. "I guess this ugly thing isn't such a curse after all."

Dean stood up. "We need to get packing, find another motel to stay for the night. In the morning we'll get moving again."

Jamie had finished dabbing away the blood. She looked up at him. "Can you grab Sara's bag from your room? So she can change into a clean shirt?"

"No problem." Dean sent his gaze toward his younger brother. "Sam, c'mon and help me bring the bags to the car."

Sam stood and averted his eyes back at the women. "You two stay here. We'll get you when we're packed." Dean walked to the door, Sam at his heels.

Walking to his room, Dean unlocked it and grabbed his duffel bag from the floor, throwing it to Sam. He pulled Sara's bag into his hand. He examined the room, looking for anything else they might have forgotten. For a brief moment, Dean stared at the washroom.

Sara's phone.

"Sam, here." He gave the bag to him. "Take it to Sara and put my bag in the trunk."

Sam nodded his head and turned to go out the door. Dean sauntered toward the washroom, flipping on the light. He looked down; Sara's phone still lay on the tiled floor, faced down. He bent to pick it up and turned it over in his hand. The small screen on the surface was written with bolded, pixel written words.

Three missed calls.

Dean's jaw went taut. The sonofabitch was calling again, even when he told him directly not to. Every time he did, he was putting himself in danger. If the demons knew about Sara's boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—they'd use him against her. Despite the pain Andy had inflicted on her, she still cared for him. Demons would use anything necessary to get their way. Sara didn't need the guilt of putting him in danger.

Dean shoved the phone in his pocket and exited out the door. He gave the room another onceover before exited and closing the door behind him. Sam was just throwing his bag in the trunk. He looked up at him as he heard Dean's footsteps. He let out a breath, relieved that it wasn't anyone but his brother.

"Jamie is helping Sara change out of her shirt," Sam explained.

Dean nodded his head. "Give me the keys to your room. I'm going to take them to the front desk."

Sam reached inside the pocket of jeans and dropped the keys in his hand. He watched his brother walk away before closing the trunk and walked back into the motel. Jamie exited out of the washroom along with Sara who almost looked drained of colour.

"Does it still hurt, Sara?" Sam found himself asking.

"A little," she answered and leaned against Jamie who had her hands on her shoulders, supporting her. "I'm just so tired."

"Dean is just returning the keys. We'll be out of here soon. You can rest in the car."

"Let's get going."

Sam turned at his brother's voice. He was standing the doorway, jerking his head to the car.

The group followed him to the Impala and slid into their seats. Dean started the engine and drove out of the parking lot and back onto the road, driving at a speed over the legal limit. Taking the steering wheel in one hand, Dean reached into the pocket of his coat with the other, he reached behind him to the back seat, gesturing Sara's cell phone to her.

She looked up then.

"Andy called three times," Dean said, his gaze toward the road. "I don't want you to call him back." He took his eyes off the road, and looked back at her, pleading. "Please."

Sara was reluctant to take the phone in her hands, her eyes reflecting concern. She placed the phone in her coat pocket, nodding her head to him.

"Okay."


"Can we get a room with two queens?"

The desk clerk looked up at Dean momentarily over her black rimmed glasses. Her eyes averted toward Jamie, Sara and Sam that waited patiently at the door, their duffel bags over their shoulders. Dean followed her gaze, and then looked back at the older woman with a smug grin.

"There a problem?"

The clerk's gaze returned to Dean, her face contorted in a sneer. "Having more than three people in a room with two beds is against motel policy."

Dean's mouth gapped open. "Are you kidding me? What the hell kind of policy is that?"

The clerk shrugged. "Health issues. I just work here, hon. I don't make the rules."

His fist clenched, Dean opened his mouth to retort when he felt a grip on his arm. He turned his head and looked up at Sam.

"Dean, we don't have time for this," he told him. He looked at the clerk and said, "Do you have two rooms available?"

She smiled. "We sure do, sweetie."

"We'll take them."

The woman smiled briefly, typing in the computer in front of her. "Will you be paying by cash or credit, hon?"

Sam pulled out his wallet. "Credit."

"Are you sure being separated is such a good idea?" Dean whispered toward his brother.

Sam shrugged. "We don't really have a choice do we? Look, either of us can stay with Sara or Jamie, watch over them. We'll just get through the night then leave again in the morning." Pulling out one of his forged credit cards, Sam handed it to the desk clerk.

"Okay fine. Are we flipping a coin with who stays with who?"

"Does it matter?"

Dean ignored him, pulling out a quarter from his pocket. He gestured it towards his brother. "Heads, you get Sara. Tails, you get Jamie."

Sam pursed his lips as Dean flicked the coin in the air, as if it were inappropriate.

"Okay, so you have room 13 and room 7 available. Enjoy your stay." The woman pulled two of the rooms' keys out, handing them to Sam. She smiled toward him before going back to the magazine she was reading.

"Thanks."

"Tails," Dean announced, catching the coin in his hand. "You're staying with Jamie tonight."

The four left through the entrance, back into the cold night. Sam threw Dean his key.

"C'mon Sara," Dean said, lightly touching her arm. When she looked up at him he gestured his head to their room, his face more solemn than it had been since she met him.

"Good night guys," she whispered, a worried glance sent toward Jamie and Sam. Jamie returned the expression, Sam nodding.

Dean placed a hand on Sara's back, leading her toward room 7. "Do you want me to take that?" When Sara stared at him, he pointed toward her duffel bag.

"I got it, Dean. It's alright."

From the look she gave him, Dean believed Sara's answer was directed to more of a deeper understanding than the question he asked.

When they entered the room, Dean closed the door behind him, immediately locking it. He unzipped his duffel bag, grabbing a can of salt and began pouring a line in front of the door. He went for the windows next, making sure the locks were securely fastened. Taking a few steps back, Dean took in his handiwork, making sure he hadn't missed something. When he was satisfied, he dropped the salt into his bag and hesitantly turned toward Sara.

Sara had her back to him, going through her bag, her other hand stroking her shoulder absently. Dean approached her slowly. He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder but hesitated, touching her arm instead. He felt her slightly jump under his touch.

"How is it?" he said quietly.

Sara turned around to face him, finding that he was a lot closer than she expected. His scent filled her nostrils. He smelled faintly of dirt and exertion. Neither of which, bothered her.

"How is your shoulder?" Dean asked again.

His expression was serious, his lips a straight line. Sara stared up at him for a moment, her eyes holding a questionable gaze. Almost immediately, she looked away.

"I don't feel them anymore. It stopped hurting," Sara finally replied.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Do you mind if I see it again?"

Sara sent him a confusing glance.

He brought his hands up defensively. "I just want a better look. I'm not trying to be a perv or anything."

Sara blew out a breath—one that she didn't know she was holding—before she turned away from him and pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her back in front of him. Dean bent closer, studying the brand on her left shoulder. She could feel his breath against her skin, making her swallow. Sara bit her tongue. What was wrong with her?

It's just the adrenaline still in your veins, she told herself.

"When did the demons give you this?" Bringing his fingers to the burnt flesh, Dean began tracing the image branded on Sara's skin. She shivered, making him stop for a moment. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. You're hands are just cold," Sara lied.

"Sorry."

Sara closed her eyes, feeling idiotic. Why of all the times, would she react from Dean's touch now? She tried to clear her thoughts, focusing on the brand on her shoulder.

"The day when the demons attacked me, when they had me on the ground...before I passed out, the demon, Missy, grabbed my shoulder." Sara licked her lips, closing her eyes again, still feeling Dean's fingers trace the brand. "I could feel her hand burning me. I only saw it when we got back from the hospital to meet up with Jamie and Sam at the motel."

Sara could hear Dean inhale before his touch slipped away and he took a step back. Sara pulled her shirt back down.

"Did the demons say anything to you? I mean, before we got there tonight?"

"Nothing in particular." Sara sat down on the edge of one of the beds. "They know us Dean. More than we think." She looked up at him. "I think they want Jamie, more than they want me."

"Why would you say that?"

"The way they talk to us, like they need us for something. And they were...happy to find both of us there. But one of them said that having Jamie with me was a 'bonus', as if she's who they really want."

"Where ever you go, she's with you," Dean whispered. "Which is why the demon put that demonic tracking device on your back." The older Winchester began pacing. "Still, it doesn't make any sense. Why do they want you two so badly?"

Sara shrugged with disgruntlement. She had no idea.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He looked tired and frustrated. "You should get some sleep, Sara."

She nodded her head, grabbing some clean clothes from her bag. She retreated to the washroom to clean herself up.

She doubted she would get much sleep, but it didn't hurt to try.

When Sara exited the washroom, she looked up to find Dean parting the curtains to scout through the window.

"Aren't you gonna get some sleep?"

Dean looked back at her, seemingly surprised by her concern. Sara frowned at him. He was acting differently, strangely. Sara didn't know Dean long enough to understand him yet, but she was making an effort.

"In a bit. Don't worry about me. Everything's going to be fine. Just get some sleep. I'll wake you in the morning when we leave."

Sara nodded her head, throwing her bag off the bed and slipping under the sheets. She closed her eyes, curling comfortably. She yawned then.

"Thank you, Dean. For being there."

Dean turned to her once again. With her eyes closed, she looked at peace for once. She was safe, away from danger. For how long? He didn't know.

Dean sighed, wishing more than ever, that he had the help of his father.


Sam had been staring out the window when his cell phone began to ring. He shoved his hand in his pocket, pulled out his phone. Caller ID displayed Dean's name and number. Sam answered at once, his heart beginning to beat really quickly.

"Is everything okay?" Sam said into the phone.

"Sammy, relax, everything is fine...for now anyway."

Sam's brow came together in confusion. "Then what's up?"

"Where's Jamie?"

"Washroom. Why?"

"Sam... This might be a whole lot bigger than we think it is. There is something these demons want from them. And they want it bad. I'm worried, man. Until we know what it is, protecting them is just going to get harder and harder."

Sam took a moment to answer. "Do you think they want Jamie for her ability to see spirits?"

"I doubt it. Since when did demons need anything from spirits?"

Tilting his head, Sam could only agree.

"Sara said that the demons know them. I mean specifically know them. Probably every detail about them."

"And we know jack squat," Sam whispered.

"Listen, she also said that the demons want Jamie more than they want her. I think Sara's right. Think about it, man. They went after Jamie first, Sara just happened to be there at the wrong time. Second time they had a chance to take Sara, but they didn't."

"Because they were waiting for Jamie to show..."

"Exactly. They can't have one until they have the other. They're both necessities but Jamie—"

"Is high priority," Sam finished for him.

Dean took in a breath. "We could be wrong, but for now, be extra careful, Sammy. They might come for Jamie first."

"I will, don't worry."

With that Sam hung up his phone, just in time for Jamie to exit the washroom.

Jamie looked at the phone in his hand. Something flashed in front her eyes before she spoke. "Is everything alright?" Her voice was pressing, concerned.

"Yeah," Sam answered, placing his phone on the round table away from him. "Just Dean warning us to be careful."

Jamie seemed to calm after that.

Sam took a seat in one of the chairs, organizing the thoughts in his head. He looked up at the woman in front of him, the memory of her tears, the expression she sent Dean before she left the room, weighed in his mind. She was so distraught, so hurt. Sam didn't know if he had ever seen someone look like that. Look like they were trapped, ambushed, and betrayed. That moment, in that motel room, when Dean accused her of lying, she looked so fragile. Sam could see it, the way she looked a moment ago, like it was burned in his skull.

Sam looked down, absently picking at his nails, thinking of what to say. "Jamie, about earlier..."

A weak smile traced her lips. "It's alright, Sam. Dean apologized. We can put it behind us now."

"I know. I just wanted to apologize for starting it in the first place. I guess this whole situation just goes to show you how little we know about each other."

Jamie was silent as she sat on the edge of one of the beds. She stared into Sam's face before slipping her eyes away and lowering her head. She folded her hands in her lap.

Sam gazed at her for short moment before standing.

"You should get some—"

"I was eleven when I ran from home."

Sam paused, staring at Jamie. She had her head still bowed as she spoke.

"It was just...day after day. It got worse and worse. I was just a kid. I was so terrified of him. Every time he came home from work, he—" Jamie stopped.

She was talking about her father. Sam could hear the strain in her voice as she mentioned him, as if the memories of him abused her also.

Sam approached her, sitting beside her on the bed. He placed a gentle hand on her back. "It's okay; you don't have to tell me."

Jamie looked up, tears glazing her eyes. It broke his heart to see her like this. He could see the fear in his eyes, eleven years worth of fear. Her eyes were dark, clouded and it was then that Sam noticed that her left iris was hazel, while the other green. However, the alternative colours of her eyes didn't bother him. The way she looked at him did. Like she was about to break.

"You said people become more sensitive to spirits when they have near death experiences, right?" Sam opened his mouth to answer, but she didn't give him the time. "He... He nearly killed me once." She bowed her head again, before looking up at the ceiling, avoiding Sam's eyes. Tears fell down her cheeks quickly. "It was six months before I decided to run away. I was sent to the ER. I stopped breathing. It took the doctors a while to resuscitate me. I barely made it, they said. He was there watching. The look on his face... He wanted me dead."

"And no one questioned your father?" Sam asked, appalled.

Jamie shook her head. "My father was a cop. Everyone in town respected him. No one thought twice." She inhaled deeply. "People would accuse my mother before ever accusing my father. They would say she was negligent, careless, didn't know how to take care of her own child... All those bastards were wrong." She looked up at him then, her eyes red. "She was the only one that ever cared for me."

Sam frowned as they locked gazes. The fear in her eyes faded, replaced by sadness and guilt. "What happened to her?"

Jamie stood up, pulling away from his touch. "She died."

Sam hesitated; startled by the way she recoiled from him. "I'm sorry."

Jamie had her back to him. "I ran away. I left my mother with that monster. And he killed her."

"Jamie..." Sam stood and grabbed her shoulder as she sobbed. "Why...You don't have to tell me any of this. Why are you?"

Jamie sniffled. "This is why I needed the painkillers. I haven't had nightmares about it in a long time. But they're back. They've been back since this all started."

"Since the demon attack."

Jamie nodded.

She turned to him, wiping the tears away with her sleeve. "You want to know the truth, there it is. I met Sara when we were twelve at the orphanage. We lived together and separated when we both got accepted into college. We haven't seen each other for three years until she came over when the demon possessed my boyfriend and had me tied in my own house. That's it."

Sam frowned, looking into her face with contemplation.

"Believe me, Sam. I have no idea why demons are after us. Nothing. I don't—"

Sam grabbed her shoulders, cutting her off. "Jamie, it's okay. I believe you. We'll figure it out together. We'll just get through tonight first. One step at a time, okay?"

Jamie bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"Just, get some rest. We'll be out of here in the morning."

Jamie nodded once again, pulling away from his hold and going toward her bed. Sam stared at her as she went, sliding under the sheets and turning away from him. His heart ached. Jamie seemed normal at first, well adjusted, happy. He never guessed how morbid her past had been. And how much it still effected her.

Sam sighed and walked back toward the window. The night was silent, deserted, which wasn't always a good thing.


It was just a few minutes before five in the morning. He couldn't sleep. He was too worried something might happen if he did.

Dean took a glance at Sara. She was quiet, fast asleep.

"At least one of us is getting some sleep."

Dean slouched in the chair he sat on, leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling, trying to think.

Someone wants these girls. What did Sara say? Back in Colorado...Think Dean, think! She mentioned a he. Maybe the demons are working for someone. Maybe...

Dean's eyes began drifting closed. How long had it been since he had a good night sleep? He was just resting his eyes, he told himself. Just a few minutes.

His mind going blank, Dean's body began to relax.

Suddenly he heard rustling, and someone dry heaving.

"D-Dean..."

Dean's eyes flashed open as he immediately got to his feet. He turned, finding Sara sitting up, crouched over. She cried out. Having the feeling back in his legs he ran toward her, kneeling in front of her.

"Sara?"

Looking around, Dean grabbed the lamp by the bed, switching it on. The white sheets were soaked in blood. The back of Sara's shirt was soaked also.

"T-they're... they're..." Sara struggled to say the words.

"It's okay, Sara, just breathe." Dean got up, running to the washroom and grabbing some towels. He ran back to Sara's side. Dean was hesitant before pulling her shirt off her shoulder and placing the towel against the brand that had been soaked in blood.

"Oh God," Sara managed to say.

Dean bent down, looking into her face, but strands of her hair were in front of her eyes. Dean brought up a hand, tucking her hair behind her ear. He placed his hand on her cheek, grabbing her attention.

"They're here, near the motel?" he asked.

Sara looked up at him, her teeth biting her lower lip. She nodded once.

Dean grabbed one of her hands that had been gripping the sheets tightly and placed it atop the towel. "Here, keep pressure on it."

Sara could only wince as she grabbed the towel.

Standing up, Dean pulled his phone from his pocket as he jogged to the window. He peered through the curtains as he dialled Sam's number and brought the phone to his ear. It rung once before Sam answered.

"The demons are here."

"How—"

"The sigil on Sara's back started bleeding. She's in a lot of pain right now. They're close by, Sam."

"Do you see them?"

Dean scanned the parking lot, the sun slowly rising. He saw nobody.

"No. Where's Jamie?"

"Still asleep."

"Wake her up. When the coast is clear, we get out of here."

"Shouldn't we stay?"

Dean frowned, disagreeing. "If we stay, we could be here all day."

"Dean, this is suicide. If we go out there we could be ambushed."

Sighing, Dean took a final glance outside before reaching to Sara's aid. "I know, Sammy, but we don't have a plan B."

"They can't get passed the salt. We can stay here. Eventually, they'll give up."

"And what if they don't?"

Sam only answered with silence.

Using his shoulder, Dean pinched his cell phone to his ear. He rested beside Sara. "How is it?" he asked her.

Sara didn't answer. Her eyes were tightly shut, her teeth clenched tightly together. The hand holding the towel was shaking as Dean lifted it. The towel was wet and sticky, warmed from Sara's blood. He slightly peeled the towel away from her shoulder. The sigil looked oddly and freshly burnt.

"How is she?" Sam finally said through the phone.

"It's really bad, Sam." Dean applied pressure onto the brand making Sara cringe. "Shit. Sam, if we stay here, Sara is going to bleed to death. So, if you got a better plan, I'm all ears, man."

"Okay, okay, we can pack. Throw everything in the Impala while Sara and Jamie stay safely inside the salted rooms. When we're ready, we can make a break for it—head to Mississippi or Arkansas, any state that's closest."

"Alright, be outside in five." Dean pulled the phone from his ear, flipping it closed and shoving it in his pocket. "Everything is going to be fine, Sara. I'm going to get you out of here, away from the demons."

Sara replied with a whimper. Dean got up, grabbing his bag, throwing his things inside. He picked up Sara's bag from the floor. Quickly he peered into the washroom making sure he wasn't missing anything. Dean walked out, stalking across the room. He grabbed the knob on the door and stopped. He looked back at Sara, still holding the towel against her shoulder. As if aware of his stare, Sara looked up, her eyes meeting his. Dean saw desperation, fear, pain and hope.

Dean's brows furrowed before he turned and exited the door.


"Is that everything?" Sam asked, picking up the duffel bags.

"Yeah, I think," Jamie replied, still a little disoriented. "Did Dean tell you how Sara is doing?"

Sam met her eyes then. "She's not doing so good."

"It's because of the demons."

"Yeah. This is why we need to get you two out of here and quick. Dean said she's losing a lot of blood."

"Dammit." Jamie stood, approaching the door.

"Where you going?"

"With you," she answered, as if his question was an odd one to ask.

"No, you have to stay here where it's safe."

"But Sara—"

"Will be fine," Sam cut her off. "Dean and I just need to get everything packed in the Impala. You and Sara are safe in the rooms. When my brother and I get everything we'll get you."

Jamie looked like she could refuse, but she took a step back, seemingly defeated.

"Fine."

"I'll be back, don't worry," Sam reassured. He waited for her to nod before exiting out the door, avoiding the line of salt, and closing the door behind him.

"Great," Jamie whispered and collapsed on one of the beds.

The sun had just arisen and already the demons had begun wreaking havoc. Jamie could only think of Sara, in the other motel room, bleeding and in pain. But, Sam told her to stay put, until he came back. Jamie looked at the line of salt against the door, and on the window sills.

What do the demons want?

Jamie thought about calling Sara's phone, but she doubted she'd pick up, and it wouldn't be long before she saw her in the Impala anyway. So Jamie waited.

And waited.

"What's taking him so long?" Jamie wondered. It had been longer than it should have been. She got up, and peered through the window.

The sun had become bright quickly. She could see the Impala clearly, but she was alone. There was no sign of Dean, no evidence of Sam. Jamie narrowed her eyes. She couldn't see any of their bags near the car. They were gone.

Jamie stepped away from the window, contemplating. If she stepped out of the room, she was putting herself in danger. Maybe it was nothing, she assured herself. For all she knew they were in the room with Sara, helping her to the car or something. However, there was a feeling in Jamie that she couldn't shake. And it wasn't a good feeling.

Jamie looked at the clock by her bed. She'd wait, just for a few more minutes before she decided.

Knocking came at her door, loud and quick.

Jamie shot her sights on it. Sam knew it was unlocked.

Cautiously, Jamie approached it. As long as the line of salt wasn't broken, they couldn't get in.

"Jamie? Are you in there?"

"Sara?" Jamie called before opening the door. "Wha—"

"Are Dean and Sam in here?" Sara asked, her expression troubled.

"What? No," Jamie answered. Sara entered the room, closing the door. "I thought they were with you."

Sara shook her head and began to pace. Jamie saw the blood on the back of her shirt.

"Sara."

She turned to her at the sound of her voice. Jamie's eyes were wide and Sara looked like she understood.

"It's okay," she explained. "It's dry blood. It stopped bleeding before I came to see you."

"I don't understand," Jamie said, exasperated. "Where are Dean and Sam?"

Sara stared at her for a long moment. "Dean left to pack his and my bag into his car. I was still in too much pain to do anything. He was gone for a lot longer than he should have been... Jamie, I don't feel them anymore."

"The brothers?"

"No, the demons."

Jamie stiffened. "They're gone." It wasn't a question.

"Shit," Sara cussed, her voice cracking. "What if they got attacked? What if..."

Jamie shook her head. "Okay calm down. Look, we need a plan before we decide on anything. Did you see anything walking here?" she asked rationally.

Sara shook her head. "I was too worried. I ran here. I didn't see either of them outside."

Jamie sighed, rubbing her eyes, thinking. "How's your shoulder?"

"Normal. The demons aren't here anymore. They were, with that I'm sure, but their gone now."

Jamie grabbed her coat from her bed, slipping it on. "We need to go outside, check the Impala. You sure it's safe out there?"

Sara nodded. "Safe from demons anyway."

"Okay."

Jamie opened the motel door and stepped out. On impulse, she surveyed the area anyway, just to make sure. Nothing looked out of the ordinary; it was just how it looked the night they came here. There were no demons, and definitely no Winchesters.

Jamie began approaching the Impala, Sara close behind her. Leaning against Dean's vehicle, she peered into the interior. Nothing.

"The doors are unlocked," Jamie informed.

Sara circled the car, observing anything strange and out of the ordinary. Frustrated, Sara couldn't find anything. She took another step, her boot hitting something. The object jingled and skid a few inches away. Sara looked down, seeing silver. She bent and grabbed keys that had been left on the floor.

"Found anything?" Jamie asked, exiting out the passenger seat and closed the door.

"Keys."

"To what?"

Sara looked up, showing her. The keys hung from her finger. "To the Impala."

"Dean wouldn't just leave that on the floor..."

"Exactly."

Sara made her way toward the trunk. Using the keys, she unlocked it and lifted it up. All their bags were in there, none missing. Jamie came behind her. Both bewildered.

"Alright," Sara said. "Any thoughts?"

Jamie frowned. "None of them good."

"Gimmie one," Sara replied, her eyes still on the bags, her hands shaking.

"Dean and Sam are missing." Jamie voice was weak, strained. "And the demons are behind it."


Dean inhaled sharply. Groggily, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred. He blinked a couple of times, focusing his sight. He groaned, the pain in his head throbbing. He adjusted his composure.

He couldn't move his arms. He couldn't move his legs.

Realization struck him.

Dean was tied down on a chair, his hands behind him. He looked around, observing his surroundings. He was in a room, dark, dusty and broken. Abandoned. Dean turned his head, seeing if he could see anything else behind him. From the corner of his eye, he could see hair, and a face.

"Sam?"

Sam was on a chair, back to back against his, his arms and legs restrained. He was out cold.

"Sam! Sam, wake up."

Dean nudged him as hard as he could. Sam moaned and he began to move.

"Wha—?"

Dean could hear his chair creak as he began to struggle against the binds.

"Dean? Where are we?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Do you see anything on your side?"

"A door, and a doorway" Sam replied.

"Fantastic." Dean sighed and began working on the knots of his binds.

"Dean, what the hell happened?"

"I can answer that."

In unison, Dean and Sam looked up. Stepping away from the shadows, the redheaded demon appeared. Her eyes were ebony black, her smile sinister and mocking. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she began circling around them.

"Comfy?"

"Oh, bite me," Dean spat.

"You...," Sam whispered with recognition.

"Hi, I'm Missy, pleased to meet you again, Sam and Dean Winchester."

"How do know our names?" Sam asked.

"Please. You two have been a real pain in my ass."

"Hate to break it to you sister, but we'll continue to be a pain in your ass." Dean smiled smugly.

Missy laughed aloud. "Not for long, boys."

Suddenly the door drew open, the male demon entered, ignoring the Winchesters entirely.

"Have they called yet?"

"No, Lucius," Missy replied. "But they will."

"You're using us as bait," Sam observed.

Missy smiled. "Well, nothing sure gets passed you, does it?"

Dean looked up at her hatefully. "What do you want with them?"

Missy approached Dean, grabbing his chin. She narrowed her eyes at him. "We don't want anything to do with them. We're just following orders." Dean pulled away from her grip and she stepped back. "And because of you two, our master is pissed. How hard is it really to capture two defenceless women?" Missy then threw a fist against Dean's jaw, whipping his face to the side.

Dean looked back up at her, her smile was gone, her face angry. "So, the boss is mad at you? Guess you won't be getting that big promotion, huh?"

"He won't be mad once I fix our little problem."

"Do you really think your plan is going to work? Jamie and Sara will never come here, they'll know it's a trap," Sam inquired.

"Any idiot would know this is a trap. But, they're obligated to come here," Missy said. "You think they're going to stay at the motel like good little girls? No. They'll think of some stupid plan to save you two, because they have to. And once they come here, we'll have them, kill you two and be on our way."

"You bitch," Dean hissed.

"I'm the bitch?" Missy asked, mockingly hurt. "You two were stupid enough to intervene. This had nothing to do with you!"

"You think that we were just going to let you take them?" Sam replied, annoyed.

Missy turned her sights on the younger brother, and approached him slowly. She grabbed either side of his chair, leaning toward him until her face was inches away from his. Sam flinched for a moment as she blinked, her black eyes revealed.

"You should have."

The brothers remained silent.

A guitar riff broke the quietude. Dean lowered his head, recognizing it all to well as the guitar riff from the song Not Going Away by Ozzy Osbourne.

It was the ringtone to his phone.

"Shit," he cussed, closing his eyes.

Missy smiled. "And the show begins."

Lucius grabbed Dean's cell phone from the table beside him, throwing it toward Missy whom quickly caught it.

"Hm, looks like they called Dean first. Sorry, Sam. Looks like the older brother wins this round. And let's see which one of the girls is calling, shall we?" Missy looked at the phone, reading the caller ID. "Sara." Missy's eyes shot to Dean's, a grin creeped the corners of her lips. "She sure fancies you, doesn't she? Why don't we make this a conference call?"

Flipping open Dean's phone, the redheaded demon pressed the center button, the screen flashed, SPEAKER PHONE on the screen.

Sara's voice came out loud and clear, anxious and concerned, through the speakers.

"Dean? Dean! Are you okay? Dean?"

"Sara, don't come—!"

Missy backhanded Dean before he could say anymore. He spat blood from his mouth, landing a vicious gaze back at the demon.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, worried.

He didn't answer him.

All the while staring at the older brother, Missy brought the phone close to her lips. "Dean Winchester can't come to the phone right now, but perhaps we could talk?"

Sara didn't reply.

"Tell me, honey, how's your shoulder?"

"Screw you," Sara hissed.

"You know what the best part of me putting that sigil on your back is? Is the fact that you idiots thought you can use it to your advantage. A demonic symbol on your back will never be a good thing, but it was nice of Dean to lie on your behalf."

"What did you do with them?"

"Relax, they're here. Nice and comfortable. Say hi, Sam." The demon brought the phone near Sam's lips.

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't listen to her, Sara."

It was moments before Sara said anything. "What do you want from us?"

"I want you and Jamie Leslie to come here. We'll let the Winchester's go, safe and soundly. In exchange for you two. Fair trade, don't you think?"

"Sara, no—!"

Whipping her hand against Dean's cheek again, Missy grabbed his chin with a bone crushing grip.

"One more word and I will rip that snarky tongue right out of your mouth. Understand?" she told him, her voice dripping with venom.

"You have to promise me...," Sara whispered through the phone, between Dean and the demon, "to let them go, without a scratch."

Missy leaned away from Dean. "Anything for you, darling. Not one scratch."

Don't do it Sara, I'm begging you. Don't.

"Fine. It's a deal."

Dean shut his eyes tightly and lowered his head.

Missy smiled widely. "You'll find us, in an abandon shack just four miles west of the motel. We'll be waiting."

She flipped closed Dean's phone, and stared at the two brothers.

"Unfair, isn't it? Both of you worked so hard keeping them from us, only to have them come straight to our doorstep in exchange for your safety. I love naive humans."


"It's a trap."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," Sara nearly shouted, throwing her phone against the bed. "What are we going to do? Goddamnit, what the hell are we going to do!"

"Calm down!" Jamie yelled angrily.

Sara quieted, lowering onto the edge of the bed.

"We just have to think," Jamie whispered. She blew out a breath and began pacing. "Right now, we know they haven't killed Sam and Dean yet."

"They won't kill them until we get there," Sara chimed.

"We have to think of a plan, to get them out."

Sara looked up at her friend, incredulously. "Are you insane? Sure, we'll make a half-baked plan to rescue Dean and Sam from demons that nearly killed us. Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds? We got nothing, Jamie! The brothers are our only defence, we don't stand a chance!"

Jamie's brows bunched together, furiously. "Well, then you think of something! I rather try than stay back and wait for them to kill Sam and Dean and then come for us! They've protected us for this long, Sara. Half-baked or not, we need to help them."

Sara ran a hand down her face. "I know... But what do you suggest? We're not the Winchester's, Jamie. We're not hunters."

"No. But we're all they've got."

She stared long at Jamie. This was crazy, suicidal. But Jamie was right. If they didn't save the brothers, no one would. Sara thought about Dean, the way he looked at her before he left their room. He looked desperate and distressed, like he'd do anything to protect them. To protect two women he barely knew.

Sara could only return the favour.

She stared hard at Jamie, giving one nod. "What's the plan?"

Before a briefing could begin, Sara grabbed a clean tanktop from her bag of clothes. She did as much as she could cleaning the dried blood off her shoulder, the brand looking normal as before, as normal as it could be anyway. Jamie began sorting out their artillery in the Impala's trunk when Sara stepped out, tying up her brown wavy locks.

"So, what do we know?" Jamie asked her. "About demons," she added.

Sara leaned into the trunk and grabbed a silver flask, "Holy water burns the little bastards."

"Sam and Dean used salt to keep them from coming in the rooms..." Jamie grabbed one of the shotgun shells. "Do you think rock-salt works on them?"

Sara took the shell from her hand. "It won't kill them, but it'll definitely hurt like hell."

"Holy water and rounds of rock-salt," Jamie confirmed. "I guess this is when we get creative."

Sara placed the shell back, closing the secret compartment and then the trunk. She rounded the Impala and stopped at the driver's side, pulling out the keys from her pocket.

"We can't decide anything until we know what the place looks like."

"Let me drive," Jamie pleaded. "The closer we get to the demons... Your shoulder might begin to bleed again."

"No."

Jamie frowned. "Why not?"

"'Cause," Sara gave her a guilty smile as she lifted Dean's keys in her hand, "I've been wanting to drive this black stallion since I first laid eyes on it."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "You scratch it, and Dean will kill you."

"I rather that then the demons killing all of us."

Jamie couldn't argue with that. They both entered the Impala. Sara entered the keys in the ignition, turning on the vehicle. The Impala purred to life. Sara reversed from the parking lot and exited out of the main road, speeding as fast as she could.

"There's just forest out here, why would there be an abandon shack in the middle of nowhere?" Sara questioned as she drove.

"It's probably a hunting shack," Jamie answered.

"You mean, a shack, full of hunting tools to kill and skin animals."

Jamie looked at Sara oddly. She took her eyes from the road, locking her eyes with Jamie's. Both minds thought of the same gruesome possibilities. Torture.

Both women looked back at the road, both silent.


"That sigil you burned into Sara's shoulder... You used it to get us out of the motel," Sam whispered, staring at the floor.

"You always seemed like the smarter brother," Missy exclaimed. "You think it burns when we're near?" She laughed. "I wouldn't put something like that on her if it gave us away every time we were close. It only burns when I want it to burn. It burns when I'm looking for her."

"Demons using hocus pocus to find a couple of girls. What happened to old fashioned looking?" Dean said.

"It went right out the window with you boys showed up." She crossed her arms. "It was really inconvenient, when you did. I would love to know how. You boys were there at the right place, right time. A little suspicious, don't you think?"

Dean lifted and turned his head, staring at Sam in the corner of his eye.

At that moment, Sam looked away.


Sara pulled up into a dirt road and stopped the Impala. The road led to a sharp turn. She couldn't see anything beyond that.

"I can't see with the trees in the way."

"Binoculars," Jamie replied and got out of the car.

"What?" Sara exited also.

"I saw a pair of binoculars in the trunk." Jamie rounded the Impala, lifting the trunk and then the lid of secret compartment. She grabbed the binoculars and began walking. "C'mon."

Unaware of Jamie's thoughts, Sara followed anyway. She entered the forest at the right side of Impala, taking slow steps, avoiding twigs and branches.

"Do you see that?" Jamie asked, pointing toward a small shack at a distance through the trees.

Sara took the binoculars from her hands and looked through the lenses. The shack looked filthy and broken down. The wood was rotting, the roof falling apart. She saw small windows, both covered with curtains from the inside. Sara took a few steps closer and knelt down beside a tree to take a better look. There was a crack between the curtains in one of the windows. She narrowed her eyes, focusing through the crack of visibility. She saw the back of someone's head, their arms bound behind them.

"I think I see Sam."

"Is he alright?" Jamie questioned.

"I don't know." A figure walked by, her view of Sam blocked for a moment. She saw that same orange hair she would always remember. "The demons are in there, waiting."

"C'mon, let's get back to the car."

The two ran back, meeting at the trunk, supplying themselves.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's strange," Sara answered. "The demons are there, but nothing. I don't feel anything."

Jamie furrowed her brow and looked at her left shoulder, Sara's tanktop exposing the sigil entirely. She saw no blood, nothing different. Jamie looked back into the trunk. She picked up one of the knives.

"Knives won't hurt them, Jamie."

"Not unless they were dripping with holy water." Jamie smirked.

Sara slightly laughed. "Maybe there is a hunter inside of you after all," she said, grabbing a sawn-off shotgun. Remembering how Dean had loaded it earlier, she opened it up, sliding in rock-salt shells.

"Okay, I'm going to go through the back," Sara began, "and try to get the demons attention."

"What? Sara, no. That thing on your back, they'll use it against you like last time."

"I know which makes me useless but a good decoy. You can go through the front. Chances are Sam and Dean are tied down on chairs or something. You can cut them loose."

"And then?"

Sara sighed. "We let the guys take over, I guess."

Jamie nodded, unsure.

Sara stopped for a moment, a slight pinch at her shoulder. She brought her hand to the burnt flesh.

Jamie looked up at her. "What's wrong?"

"They know we're here." Sara exhaled and then slammed the trunk shut. "Wait until I'm inside, then help the guys."

"How will I know when you're inside?"

Sara lifted the shotgun in her hand. "Listen for a loud bang." Sara looked back at Jamie, studying her before turning.

"Sara." Jamie grabbed her arm. "Be careful."

Sara looked back and nodded her head. "I will."

Sara ran up the dirt path, keeping close to the trees. She could see more clearly through the windows. It was indeed Sam she saw, sitting down. She saw another body behind him.

Dean.

With one final look, Sara slipped around the shack, staying clear from the windows. Behind it, there were chopped logs, and an axe pierced into a stump. Sara looked up, seeing the back door. She sighed, tightening her hands on the shotgun.

Okay. This is completely insane, but that's alright. Insane is good. I think...

Sara told herself to calm, trying to focus her thoughts. She approached the door, peering through the glass. She saw another room, vacant. Sara brought her hand to the knob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked. With one hard push, Sara slammed the door open, the door slamming hard against the wall. She flattened against the wall by the door way and waited.

"Lucius, check it out."

Sara held her breath and waited, hearing the footsteps as they landed on the creaky hard wood floor. She waited until they were loud enough, close enough.

Slowly, she mouthed the numbers in her head.

"One, two, three."

Sara quickly pulled away from the wall and into the doorway. She only glimpsed at the male demon before lifting up the shotgun and pulling the trigger. The recoil stunned her for a second as she watched the impact hit Lucius and he slammed onto the floor hard. He groaned in pain, holding his chest. Sara walked into the room, stopping beside the demon. Lucius looked up at her, his eyes becoming black slits.

"Rock-salt won't kill me."

"No," Sara agreed. "But it hurts like hell, doesn't it?"


Sam and Dean both jerked their heads at the loud bang. Missy stepped away from the wall, her eyes narrowed.

"Lucius..."

She walked and made her way out of the room.

Dean began struggling hard against the ropes, exerting his body to break or loosen them somehow. He inhaled, catching his strength for a second.

"Anything?" he asked, feeling his brother struggle against the ropes as well.

All movement stopped as the brothers heard a loud cry of pain. Dean recognized it instantly, his eyes going wide.

"Sara!"

The front door suddenly drew open, Sam and Dean glancing its way. Jamie entered in the room.

Sam opened his mouth to say something when Jamie brought a finger to her lips, silencing him. She pulled out a knife and reached the brothers, kneeling down between them and began cutting the ropes.

"Jamie, quick, Sara—"

She cut Dean off. "I know I know. I can hear her."

"Lucius, check on the Winchesters."

Jamie eyes went wide.

"Jamie, run," Sam whispered.

But it was too late. Lucius entered the room, his eyes locking onto Jamie.

"I wouldn't do that, sweetheart. The boys are having a time out." Lucius lifted his hand.

Quickly, Jamie slipped the knife into Sam's hand just in time for her to be thrown away from them. She hit hard against the wall behind Lucius, falling to the ground. She coughed out, sitting herself up. Lucius walked up to her, bending down and grabbing the collar of her shirt.

Jamie pulled her wet knife out, slicing it deep in his wrist. Lucius pulled back with a wince. He examined his sizzling cut before looking back at the blade of the knife, dripping with clear liquid.

"A blade soaked with holy water," he said. "You girls are smarter than I give you credit for."

Jamie swiped at him again, only to have the knife knocked out of her hand and across the room.

"Sam, NOW!"

Lucius turned. Both brothers broke through the severed ropes. Sam ran, tackling Lucius to the ground away from Jamie. He straddled him and threw a fist against his jaw.

"Dean!" Jamie called. "Here!"

He turned to her in time for Jamie to throw a shotgun to him.

"Help Sara."


Sara held onto her shoulder, pinned to the ground. She could already feel the blood dripping from the sigil. Missy stood a few inches away, her hand held in front of her, closed into a fist. A crashing noise erupted behind her, making her lose her focus.

"Lucius?"

Bang.

Thrown by the force of the shotgun, Missy slammed into a wall and down to the ground. Dean ran past her toward Sara whom was just trying to sit up. He knelt down in front of her, either hand cupping the sides of her face to look at her.

Her eyes opened slightly as she breathed deeply.

"C'mon." Dean threw her arm over his shoulder, helping her up.

Missy stood up, recovering. Her teeth were gritted together as she lifted her hand. Quickly, Dean pulled his shotgun up and pulled the trigger again, hitting Missy square in the chest.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

Dean took a step toward the other room before Sara stopped him.

"Dean, back door...safer..."

Nodding his head, Dean broke into a slight jog toward the back door, exiting outside of the shack. They jogged around it. The front door opened, Sam and Jamie running out.

"The Impala is down the road," Jamie informed.

"Okay, go, go, go," Sam said, pushing Jamie forward.

The four began running, Dean supporting Sara who tried her hardest to keep up. They panted as they ran against the cold dirt when Sara slipped out of Dean's grip and collapsed on her knees. She dry heaved. Her eyes were wide.

Dean looked back.

Missy stood from a distance. Her face was angry, her fist in front of her. She twisted her fist slowly.

Sara let out an ear piercing scream, more painful than any cry she had ever let out before. Distinctly, Dean could see sizzling sparks of fire on the burnt flesh of the sigil on her shoulder, before it began pouring out blood. Sara screamed again, curling into herself.

Dean looked back at Sam and Jamie. "Go!"

Hesitating, Sam took Jamie's hand and began running.

Dean bent down, sliding his arm under her legs, and his other around her torso. He lifted her up and began running. He could feel her blood seeping through his clothes. Sara cringed against him, tears pouring down her cheeks. As soon as he saw his black Impala, Dean picked up the pace.

Missy tightened her fist harder, straining the muscles in her hands, feeling the power burn.

"Stop!"

Ignoring Lucius, Missy twisted her fist.

Lucius grabbed her wrist quickly, pulling her hand away. "Stop it. You'll kill her."

Missy growled, pulling her hand from his grasp. "I don't care!"

"Master wants them both alive," he explained calmly.

"What's so important about them? They're just women! They're useless to us!" Missy shouted, her face contorting into a sneer.

Lucius grabbed her chin, staring down at her. "The only one that gets the satisfaction of killing Sara Collins and Jamie Leslie is him."


Dean laid Sara on the back seat, sliding in beside her before Sam started the Impala and pulled off the dirt road.

"Sara?" Dean patted her cheek a couple of times. Her eyes were closed, her face drained and pale.

"Dean? How is she?" Sam asked, glancing at the rear-view mirror.

Jamie turned back, her eyes glistening.

Dean placed a finger under Sara's nostrils, feeling the warm air of her breath against his skin. "She's still breathing. She's just knocked out cold."

"The way she was screaming...," Sam whispered.

Dean looked down at Sara, sliding the hair away from her face.

"We should take her to the hospital," Sam inquired.

Dean shook his head. "No."

"Dean—"

Looking up, Dean stared hard at his brother's reflection in the rear-view mirror. "The demons will follow us there. Just keep driving."

Sam only nodded his head, his eyes drifting back onto the road.

Jamie's eyes caught Dean's, both holding gazes of anguish. The older brother slipped his eyes from hers, lowering them to his clothes, soaked with Sara's blood.


LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS

Sam leaned against the doorway to the washroom, staring at his older brother. Dean was at the sink, rubbing off the blood from his t-shirt with a damp cloth. The faucet was running, water sliding down the drain, the clear liquid tainted with red. Dean looked up at Sam's reflection in the mirror he stood in front of.

Sam opened his mouth to say something when Dean interrupted.

"How is she?"

Sam exhaled the breath he was holding. "She's still out." Dean didn't say anything, looking back down at his shirt and continued scrubbing. Sam adjusted his composure. "She's been out for more than eight hours Dean, I'm worried."

"You and me both."

"I'm just saying, maybe the hospital—"

"Sam"—Dean dropped his shirt and stared at his brother's reflection again—"we've talked about this already. No. It's not safe."

"It's not exactly safe here either."

"It's safer."

"Dean—"

"No." Dean turned away from the mirror, facing his brother. "I'm not arguing with you on this anymore, Sam. The sigil on her shoulder stopped bleeding. God knows what those demons have done to her but all she needs is rest. We're staying, end of story."

Sam stood there for a moment before Dean turned away and returned back to his shirt. Shaking his head, Sam walked out into the main room. Jamie sat on the side of the bed where Sara laid. Jamie stroked her forehead and cheek with the back of her hand, Sara's face paler is comparison to Jamie's skin.

Jamie looked up at him. He gave her a small smile.

"How you feeling?"

"Little bump to the head, I've had worse," Jamie replied. "How about you? You were tied up for a while."

"I'm fine." Sam took a seat on the bed opposite of Jamie. "Dean got most of the hits. He never did know how to keep his mouth shut."

Jamie smirked. She looked down at Sara, the corner of lips lowered. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Sam frowned, lacing his fingers together and leaning his elbows against his legs. "I've got to say, I was impressed."

"With?"

"Dipping the knives into holy water, it was pretty smart."

Jamie smiled at him and shrugged. "I improvised." The two were silent for a moment. "We're not taking her to the hospital, are we?"

"Dean, he...doesn't think it's safe." Sam stood, walking toward the window. "We just got to take it easy, wait for her to wake up. Then we'll move again, as far as we can go."

"It would be a good a time as ever to have your father, wouldn't it?"

Sam looked back at Jamie, his expression thoughtful.

Jamie had no idea how right she was.

By the time Dean exited out of the washroom, Sam decided to leave to buy some food for the group. He didn't refuse, only told him to be careful out there. Jamie was lying on the couch, taking a nap in front of the television.

Dean threw his shirt atop his duffel bag and walked across the room. He switched off the television, the motel room becoming silent. Pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, Dean placed it on the vacant table. His eyes slipped toward Sara. Before he knew it, his legs began to move until they stopped in front of her.

Her screams echoed in his head, the same screams that made his ears ring when she collapsed on the floor. The demons almost killed her. But why would they risk that? Dean lowered himself beside her. Slowly the colour was coming back to her face. Dean brought his hand to her cheek. She was warm again. Dean let out the breath he didn't know he was even holding.

Sara then moaned, reaching her hand to her face. She held Dean's hand to her cheek and opened her eyes slowly.

"Dean?" she whispered. "I thought you were Jamie. Your hands are warm..."

Dean chuckled. "How you doing, kiddo?"

"Can't complain." She weakly smiled. "How was our amateur rescue plan?"

He grinned. "I got to say, two chicks jumping in, taking two demons on. It was kinda hot."

She laughed slightly but when she looked up at him, her face became serious for a second. She looked away uncomfortably and moved slightly. She groaned. "What did they do me?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me."

Sara furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "Ripping..."

"Ripping?" Dean questioned.

"I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside..."

Her hand holding his began to tremble as she remembered the pain. For a second, seeing her like this, Dean thought he almost understood. The pain was unbearable, torturous. He didn't feel it, but he could see it in her eyes.

Just then, the door opened and Dean suddenly pulled away.

"Hey, you're awake," Sam said, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Sam," Sara greeted. She looked back at Dean whom stood up from her bed. Disturbed by his sudden withdraw, Sara looked away from him.

"I brought some food, in case you were hungry."

Sara smiled slightly. "Sounds good."

"Better be a cheeseburger in there." Dean grabbed the paper bag from Sam's hand and looked inside.

Sara tried to sit up, her body sore. She bit her button lip trying to adjust herself.

"You okay?" Sam asked, coming to her side.

"I will be," she replied. "Hand me a cheeseburger. I'm starving."

"She's definitely okay."

Jamie got up from the couch, grinning. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve and took a seat beside her friend. She pulled a strand away from Sara's face and smiled down at her.

Dean placed the paper bag on the table, reaching Sam's side. The brothers exchanged a soulful look. Having those silent discussions they always seemed to have. Both traded a sign of agreement before they looked back toward the two women.

"Sara, Jamie... Sam and I wanted to thank you," Dean began, "for risking your lives, to save ours."

"We didn't do much. We just knew we couldn't just stand around and do nothing," Jamie said.

"A part of me wanted you to stay out of harm's way," Dean explained. "But I'm glad you both came."

Jamie smiled. "We do still need you two. Who else is going to help us find John Winchester?"

"We need to make a truce," Sam said. "No more secrets, from both sides."

Sara and Jamie nodded their heads. Everyone exchanged a look of agreement.

Dean cleared his throat. "Okay, enough with this sentimental crap. Let's eat."