Author's Note: Okay, so it turns out I'm a glutton for good reviews. They make for excellent motivation. I'm glad you are all enjoying so much.

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Sam shot out of the car and over to his brother. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to get a coherent explanation out of the still tipsy, and slightly hysterical, Emily. At which time, he'd grabbed the keys and headed out, agreeing to meet Emily back at the parking lot. The sight that greeted his eyes was not what he'd been expecting. Six bodies, including one of the largest men Sam had ever seen, were strewn about the parking lot like so much flotsam, and Dean was standing nonchalantly amid the carnage.

"What, the hell! Are you okay?"

Dean grinned. "Aren't I always?"

"Well what happened." Sam searched Dean's face for signs of injury. Aside from a nasty looking bruise beginning to purple along his jaw, and a slightly 'battered' air, he seemed fine.

"Damn" Sam bent over, breathing hard, his heart had been in his throat the whole way over, turning a five minute drive into eternity. He'd imagined the worst, after all, Emily had said there were four guys. Sam looked at the bodies littering the pavement.

"Nice work" he said impressed. But Dean was shaking his head.

"I had help". Sam raised his eyebrows, and Dean pointed to Reggie, who was no longer looking quite as impressive as she had only moments ago, and held up three fingers.

Reggie blinked in the glare of the headlights. Thank God. It was over. Looking at the ruin around her she began to feel queasy. A voice in her head began to run over all of the very bad ways this could have ended. Her hands began to shake. Emily's tear-stained face appeared before her.

"Oh my God! Oh My GOD! Reggie, are you alright? You're bleeding everywhere". Reggie barely heard her, or Sam, as she sank slowly to the ground. All of a sudden she was exhausted. The crystalline clarity that had dominated her senses during the fight began to fade into fuzziness. It was all becoming a blur in her mind. Action and reaction, the details were murky, and she was tired, so tired. She smiled slightly at Sam as he scooped her up and deposited her in the front seat of the SUV. His concern was palpable, and she roused herself enough to pat his arm reassuringly.

"I'll be fine Sam. I'll see you later". Somewhere in the distance she heard Dean talking to Emily.

"She'll be okay. It's aftershock. From all the adrenaline. A good night's sleep and she'll be back to normal. You go on, and I'll follow you home to make sure you get there okay".

Emily climbed into the seat beside her and started the engine. Reggie watched Dean climb into the impala in the side view mirror. She closed her eyes.

"Don't worry hon" Emily's voice was breaking. "We'll get you home. Take care of you".

Something inside Reggie began to rebel. She hated being taken care of. She hated feeling like an invalid. Angry with herself for being so weak, she forced her mind out of the foggy dreamland where it had retreated, and clamped down with her will. She looked at her hands, forced them to stop shaking, and deliberately calmed her ragged breathing. By the time they were pulling into the hotel parking lot half an hour later, she was feeling better. She turned to look at Emily.

"Em" . "Yes" came the immediate response. Reggie looked into her eyes.

"Look, could you do me a favour and not tell the others about what happened tonight". Emily looked shocked and opened her mouth to protest, but Reggie held up a hand.

"Please Em. I don't want to upset them. And I don't want them fussing." She grinned.

"Besides, Colin will probably give me a lecture and then I'll have to punch him in the nose. And then were will we be". That made Emily grin because it was so true. Colin would lecture. He's get that slightly condescending tone to his voice and a superior look in his eye. Emily smiled.

"Are you sure? Right now, I kinda feel like he deserves one". Reggie laughed.

"I'll teach you and you can do it yourself."

"Deal", they shook hands and Emily pulled Reggie into a tight hug.

"That was the bravest thing I've ever seen" she whispered. Reggie squirmed.

"Dean did all the work".

"Really" Emily smiled wickedly, "I'm kind of sorry I missed that".

Reggie rolled her eyes, "It was a disgusting display of testosterone. Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted".

The two girls climbed out of the truck and walked into the hotel. Emily looked back and raised a hand to Dean, sitting quietly in the impala. Reggie didn't see him.

Dean started the engine and called Sam as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, yeah. They got here fine. Mhmmm. I know. Well, we don't know that the demon is after her. She should be alright here for now. I mean, like you keep saying, she doesn't fit the pattern. Yeah. I'll see you when I get there." Dean snapped the phone shut and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and he was hurting. He couldn't wait to crawl into bed.

Sam closed his phone. He knew that Dean was right. Reggie didn't fit the pattern. She probably wasn't connected to the demon. As to what she had to do with his vision, well, they'd figure that out tomorrow. Sam was worried about Dean. He'd heard the tiredness in his brother's voice, and knew that the cut on Dean's arm, while not serious, must be sore. He wondered if they had any hot water bottles. That would help to ease some of the muscles he knew would be aching.

Sam was feeling guilty. He should have gotten there sooner, been there to help his brother. Rummaging through the bathroom cupboards and coming up empty, he decided to check at the front desk. It wasn't like this place had room service. Grabbing the keys and stepping over the salt line across the door, he headed for the main building. Stepping into the tiny lobby and up to the front desk, he smiled at the pretty, middle-aged woman working there.

"Hi, I'm staying in room nine with my brother. He's had a little mishap, bit clumsy" he improvised, not able to resist needling Dean, even in his absence. "I was wondering if you had some hot water bottles we could use?"

"Certainly sir" she batted her eyes at him. "I just have to grab them from the storage closet. How many would you like".

Sam pulled up an image of the battered Dean in his mind's eye, "Four, maybe five?"

The woman raised her eyebrows, "That must have been some mishap."

Sam grinned, "Oh he's always tripping over his own feet. Took a header down a flight of stairs".

"Oh my" the woman shook her head, opening a door across the room marked, 'Housekeeping', she produced several orange, rubber hot water bottles and passed them to Sam. The phone began to ring.

"Tell your brother I hope he's feeling better" she said as she hurried around the desk to answer. Sam nodded his thanks and headed for the door. He heard the woman say brightly,

"Motor Inn, may I help you". Sam had his hand on the door handle.

"What was the name again? Thorpington?"

He stopped. "Hmmmm, Thorpington, Regina. Thorpington, Thorpington, Thorpington. No I'm sorry, I don't see that name here. Yes. No problem, have a nice night". Sam stood frozen in the doorway.

The woman bustled back around the desk. "I'm sorry dear, was there something else you wanted?" Sam looked at her blankly, and icy fist squeezing his heart.

"What, no, no, I'm fine" he mumbled, and dashed out of the office. He barreled into the room and snatched his cell phone from the night stand.

Dean was humming along softly with Led Zepplin when his phone rang again. Hell. Sam was worse than an old woman. He flipped it open.

"Dean. Dean!" Sam sounded panicked, Dean went from drowsy to full alert in the space of a heartbeat.

"What is it Sam?"

"Dean, I just overheard a call at the hotel. Someone is trying to find out where Reggie is staying". Dean cursed under his breath.

"Yeah, someone or something".

The tires of the impala spewed gravel as Dean jerked the wheel, spinning the car in an abrupt one-eighty, speeding back the way he had come.

Emily waved to Reggie from the doorway of her room across the hall, and watched until she went inside. Reggie closed the door to her room behind her and let out a sigh of relief. Bed, Thank God. Then, she froze. Where was Camille? Feeling alarmed she cast her gift out, searching, and leaned back against the door in relief. She was with Janet and Milo, they were fast asleep. Probably decided to watch a movie or something. Silly she chided herself. You're still all wound up from earlier.

Earlier, Reggie looked down at her bloody clothes. Gingerly, she peeled her hoodie away from her lacerated arm. Ouch! I guess I'd better take care of that. Reggie walked into the bathroom and ran the taps in the bathtub. Carefully, she shimmed out of her clothes. Sitting on the floor by the tub, she gently pressed a washcloth over the worst of her scrapes. When the dried blood loosened enough to allow it, she carefully whipped away the grit and gravel coating her wounds. She hissed softly as she awkwardly applied antiseptic to a ragged abrasion on the back of her right thigh, and looked in the mirror, so she could see to apply it to the raw patch on the back of her right shoulder. That was where she had taken the brunt of the impact while avoiding Moby's fist. The image of it, big and burly, flashed before her eyes. "Do not got there!" she told herself out loud.

The whole scenario was ridiculous. It didn't seem real. What she was doing now was so pedestrian. Maybe if she pretended it hadn't happened, she could get herself to believe it. Hell, she barely believed it now. It was so insane. I'll deal with it tomorrow. She concentrated on applying band-aids, and where they wouldn't do, surgical gauze, to her wounds. Finally finished, she threw her ruined, bloody clothes into a garbage bag and stuck them in a corner. She didn't want to send Camille into a panic in the morning. Shivering, she slipped into a pair soft, blue and white stripped flannel pajamas, cleaned up the worst of the mess in the bathroom and prepared to climb into bed, her brain had already all but shut down. The sudden sound of someone knocking on the door nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Dean pulled the impala to a screeching halt behind the hotel. He studied the small, three story building as he climbed out of the car, noting its balconies and the fire escape. Jogging into the lobby he smiled at the young receptionist.

"Hi.", quick glance at the name tag, "Michelle. I was wondering if you could tell me what room my friend is staying in? The name is Thorpington, Regina Thorpington". He prayed the room was registered under Reggie's name, and that Michelle was as vapid as she looked and wouldn't give him any trouble getting the information. Of course, that would mean that she'd probably give it to the demon too.

"Are you the guy who called earlier?" asked Michelle, confirming Dean's fears.

"Uh, yeah" He smiled again, and looked sheepish. "I know it was only a few minutes ago, but I've completely forgotten already." He tapped the side of his head, "Mind like a rusty sieve". Michelle giggled,

"It's rooms 241, 242 and 243 remember?"

"Yes, right, 241, 42 and 43. Thank you Michelle", Dean was already on his way to the elevator. All the rooms were registered to Reggie's name. Dean sprinted down the hall, and came to a halt outside the door to room 241. What in the hell was he supposed to say? Hey there Reggie, long time no see. I'm afraid you're gonna have to come with me because there's someone tryin' to find you and I think it's the demon that killed my Mom, Sam's girlfriend and possibly, your Granny. Dean shrugged, semantics, one way or the other, she was coming with him. He knocked on the door.

Reggie eyed the door suspiciously. She could not believe what she was feeling. She knew, without a doubt, that Dean Winchester was on the other side. He was stressed out, worried, and, a little bit afraid. This had better be good. Against her better judgment, she threw open the door.

"What are you doing here?"