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Sam reached the Impala and threw open the boot. Every second counted, he knew that. There was no way Dean could handle all of the demons on his own. He pawed through the boot desperately, his eyes darting from side to side.

Rock salt gun, rock salt gun...

Slowly, he stilled and leant back. It wasn't in there. He thought back to when he and Dean had got out of the Impala, when Dean had been showing off his new back window. Sam had rolled his eyes and muttered something about Dean being obsessed as they buzzed Matt's flat... as Dean pushed their rock salt gun into the waistband of his jeans. Sam closed his eyes for a moment, fighting down the urge to scream in fustration. When was Dean going to stop treating him like a kid? Grabbing a gun from the boot and slamming the door shut, Sam whirled to run back into the flats. And froze.

Chelsea stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed on him. A slow smile spread across her face, making Sam take an immediate step backwards. She stepped forwards, mirroring him.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Where's Dean?"

"Playing with my friends," she replied. "Not that he should be the first thing on your mind right now."

Sam's grip tightened on his gun. He knew it wouldn't do much, but it might slow her down enough to let him push past her and return to Dean and the others. He took a deep breath, holding her gaze, and then snapped his gun upwards.

Before he could shoot, Chelsea launched herself forwards and barrelled into him, knocking them both to the floor. His gun flew from his hand, and he realized with a jolt that he was defenceless without it. He forced his body to go rigid, freezing, and Chelsea grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the floor, kneeling above him.

"Ooh," she said, smirking "This is nice."

Sam forced himself to look up at her. "Snap out of it."

She laughed. "Oh, please. Don't even bother."

"Please?"

"Sorry, Sammy, but you're stuck with me until five'o'clock."

Sam sighed, clenching his fists. "Okay," he said quietly. "Then I'm sorry, Chelsea."

"Yeah? Whatcha gonna do, spit on me?"

Sam gritted his teeth. See, the voice in his head taunted. This is why you should have cut everything off when you had a chance. Sam pushed the voice away. Then he jerked his leg up, his knee connecting sharply with Chelsea's back. Chelsea gasped and her grip on his wrists lessened. Sam pulled free and, before she could grab him again, sent his fist flying out into her face.

Chelsea tumbled away from him and he scrambled up to his hands and knees. The sound of a window opening above him made him look up to see Matt standing on a window sill a few storeys up, his red eyes glinting. He grinned. Panic lurched through Sam's chest, and before he knew it he was running before he was fully standing. As he rounded the corner, he heard Chelsea's sharp, quick footsteps behind him and felt the first drops of rain land on his skin.

Shit, he thought.

His vision was finally coming true.

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Dean winced and opened his eyes. It was some comfort that he wasn't tied up or being held down in any way. But not much.

He blinked a few times, trying to remember what had woken him. A raging guitar solo drummed into his head and he rolled it to the side blearily. His mobile? He forced a heavy hand down to his pocket and managed to find the mobile and answer it before his answering machine came on.

"Hurro?" he slurred.

"Dean!"

"Bobby?" he frowned. Why was Bobby calling him?

"I just got Sam's message, but he's not answering. Listen to me - you have to stop this job right now."

Dean blinked slowly. "Job?" Then the memory came rushing in on him, and his eyes snapped open wider. "Sam!" he yelled, scrambling up. His head seared and the room spun dizzyingly around him. He sank back onto his knees, letting out a low groan. His eyes flicked quickly around the room. Ursula, Matt and Joe were gone.

"Damn it."

"Dean, what's going on?"

"They're going after Sam. Bobby, they're after Sam!"

"I'm on my way now. You said you were going south, right?"

Dean nodded and quickly told Bobby their location. As he spoke, he managed to rise to his feet and stay there this time, his head throbbing painfully.

"Okay, I'm coming Dean. Don't do anything stupid."

Dean hung up. It was only after he had done so that he realized that he had forgotten to ask why it was so terrible to Bobby that they were on the hunt anyway. It didn't matter now anyway - he just had to find Sam. Clenching his jaw, he took a shaky step towards the door. His head whirled madly and he stretched out a hand to hold onto the wall for support.

Shit, he thought, his heart thumping hard. This is so not good.

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Sam ran.

His breath rasped in and out of his lungs way too fast, leaving him gasping for air. His legs pounded the tarmac of the road, his limbs screaming as he pushed himself faster and faster. Sweat glistened on his forehead, half from his fear, half from the running. The rain pelting down on him ran it into his eyes and mouth, so that he could taste salt on his lips. Overwhelming panic rushed through him, threatening to destroy him completely. He tore around a corner, keeping to the middle of the road, and a bullet grazed the wall beside his head.

He ducked his head, letting out a short yell, and sprinted onwards, the gunshot setting loose new fear. Where did she get the gun from? Had she taken his?

Keep running. Just keep running.

Typical to ignore his own advice. He chanced a tiny glance over his shoulder.

Chelsea's eyes leapt with a rage-filled fire, and her teeth were bared in a snarl of disgust. Her long, black hair flew out behind her as if it had a life of its own, lifting right off her shoulders and blowing about her face, slicked into thin strands by the rain. She lifted the gun in her right hand again, ready to shoot. In his nightmares, it had been fear that had made Sam falter. Now, it was the agony of knowing that she was trying to shoot him down and that she wouldn't stop until she did that made him stumble on the wet ground, slowing slightly and skid hard onto his knees. He felt his jeans tear, felt a stinging pain on his skin.

Terror spurred him back up to his feet as Chelsea drove in on him, letting out a wordless scream of detestation. Her reaching fingers missed him by inches, and a bullet glanced off the tarmac beneath his feet. Sam lurched away from her, and heard her trip and falter. Hope flared up inside him and he ran around another corner into an alleyway. Water splashed upwards, soaking one leg as he raced through a deep puddle and he staggered away, panting hard. He emerged out onto another wider road, panting hard, and his speed finally gave out. He stumbled a few more meters before swaying and coming to a shuddering halt, just managing to stay upright, his legs trembling wildly.

Before he had even turned his head, he knew what he was going to find at the end of the road. Sure enough, there they were. How they had gotten there before him and Chelsea he would never know. Ursula, Joe and Matt stood sihouetted against the pounding rain, their hair slicked to their heads, their red eyes glowing with satisfaction and triumpah.

Sam took a fumbling step backwards, fresh horror rising in his chest. His body turned of its own accord, even though his sinking heart was screaming at him that there was no way out. Chelsea had already emerged into the road behind him. She stood still, her weight rolled onto her right leg, her gun resting at her side, her eyes burning red to match the others.

Sam swallowed hard, glancing around. There was no way out. No escape… from them, or the outcome of his vision. He looked over his shoulder to see the three demons starting forwards, their eyes flaming. His head snapping back to the right, he saw Chelsea take a slow, deliberate step forwards, a sweet smile curving her mouth upwards.

Sam took a sharp step backwards, struggling to control himself, struggling to think of something that he hadn't been able to muster up in his nightmares. His chest was so tight that he could hardly breathe. He caught sight of a glint of metal as Joe drew a long, shining knife. On his other side, Chelsea began to lift her gun. Sam pulled back sharply, shaking.

No. I have to stop it. I have to do something, or I'll never get back to Dean and-

He didn't even manage to finish his thought. A gunshot echoed through the air around him and agony exploded in his right knee. He let out a harsh scream as the ground rushed up to meet him, the hard tarmac grinding against his skin. He rolled onto his back, struggling to control his whimpers, managing to mould them into one, quiet moan. He could hear Chelsea laughing from his right, heard a slow, sarcastic clapping from his left. Then Joe came into sight above him, grinning.

"Hey, Sam. Bet that hurts, huh?"

Sam could feel tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He felt as if a vice were closed over his chest, restricting every gasping breath he took. Joe nudged his injured leg with his toe, and another yell ripped from Sam's throat.

"Whoops. Sorry, pal."

Chelsea arrived and crouched down beside him, her long hair falling over her shoulder. She ran one hand down his face, smiling. "You shouldn't play hard to get, Sam."

"Let... her go," Sam forced out.

"Yeah, right," the demon replied, rolling her eyes.

"His brother's up in the flat," Ursula mentioned, Matt right beside her as she joined them. "I thought you might want to play for a bit, Chelsea. You know, after taking Sammy here down."

"Oh, Ursula, you're so sweet!" Chelsea gasped, leaping to her feet and clapping her hands like a five year old.

"Leave him alone!" Sam yelled, making a grab for her ankle. "Don't you dare touch him!"

"Now, Sammy, if you're gonna be a problem we'll have to help you be quiet," Matt scolded laughingly. "Don't get be wrong, I'd be happy to."

"Go to hell."

Chelsea was ignoring him. "I'll meet you guys back home, then?"

Joe nodded. "Be careful, sis. Deanie might give you evils."

They all burst out laughing, and Sam's face twisted with fury and pain. "If you touch him I swear to god I'll-"

"Last warning, Sammy boy," Ursula said, tutting.

Chelsea turned and strode back the way she had come. Joe reached down and grabbed Sam's collar, but Sam lashed out at him with his fists. Joe blurred out of the way, and before he knew what had happened Sam was pinned against the tarmac.

"We warned you," Joe snarled into his ear. "No more special treatment, pal."

He heard the rustling of clothing, and a few moments later Ursula knelt down beside him, pulling a syringe from her pocket. She squirted it into the air a little, and then leant forwards.

"What the hell is that?" Sam hissed.

"Don't worry, Sammy," Matt drawled from somewhere above him. "This'll make it aaaaawwwwwwlll better."

Sam jerked backwards as much as he could as Ursula plunged the needle into his neck. She depositied the liquid into his bloodstream and then ripped it free again, tossing it aside. After a few seconds, a wave of dizzyness rolled over him and Sam felt his eyelids drooping. He fought to keep them open, fought against the darkness closing in on him.

"See ya later, Sam," Joe sang above him.

Then the darkness swirled in on him, and he fell backwards into nothingness.

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Dean staggered out onto the street, breathing hard. Instantly, a thick sheet of rain pelted down on him, soaking him through in moments. He let out a strangled snarl as the rain pounded against the wound on the side of his head and stumbled back against the wall.

Shit. Gotta find Sam, gotta stop them...

He suddenly realized that he could hear thumping footsteps coming towards him from around the corner. Jerking into fight mode, he moved over to the Impala and crouched down behind it, kneeling in a large puddle that came up past his knees. He looked under the car, and watched as a pair of black heeled boots came into sight. Chelsea? It must be. He rose up a little, chancing a glance through the car windows. Yes, Chelsea. He pulled out his gun, tightening his grip on it, and steadied himself. He was going to have to move fast, and his head wasn't going to like it.

He waited, listening as she drew closer and turned towards the block of flats he had just left. She paused outside, and he heard the click of a gun as she checked her bullets.

She has a gun? Shit...

He took a deep breath. Then he pushed himself upwards and sprinted forwards. He grabbed her by the back of her jacket and whirled her around and down to the ground, slamming her against the tarmac. She let out a gasp of shock, taken by surprise, and he ripped the gun from her fingers. He tossed it aside and aimed his own gun at her, his teeth bared.

"Where's Sam?"

She choked out a laugh. "Well, hi Dean. I was just about to come and see you..."

"WHERE IS HE?!" Dean screamed, shaking her.

Chelsea's face twisted into a cruel smirk. "You're too late," she whispered. "They've already got him. You're too late."

Dean stared at her in horror for a few moments, his eyes searching hers. "You're lying," he whispered.

"Am I?"

Dean sucked in a shuddering breath. Then, letting out a short scream of fury and grief he brought his gun down on her forehead. She slumped back onto the ground as he released her, breathing hard. He turned towards the way she had come.

"Sam!" he yelled. "SAMMY!"

The pounding rain was his only reply.