A/N: Here it is. After months of waiting, I give you chapter ten. Chapter eleven has already been betaed and will be posted ASAP. I want to thank tenaciousmetoo for being my incredibly sweet and patient beta as well as a kickass friend. And now...please enjoy chapter ten...

Chapter Ten - Can You Hear Me Now?

Sam cursed aloud as darkness engulfed him. He waited a moment, hoping that the lights might come back on but, to his chagrin, the hallway remained dark. He took a deep breath and placed the photograph of Jess, Jenna, and Ellie in his back pocket before feeling around in the darkness for something solid. He took a tentative step forward and bumped his knee against a table.

He winced and bit his lip as his leg began to throb in pain. Ignore it, he coached himself. Just focus on your priorities. You need to find Dean...preferably alive.

As if on cue, there was a loud thump to Sam's right, followed by a muffled voice murmuring, "Ow! Son of a bitch!"

Sam let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Dean?"

"Sam!" Dean sounded relieved as well. "Dude, get me out of here! I can't see a damn thing."

"Where are you?" Sam asked, a small smile playing on his lips at Dean's impatient tone.

"I don't know. A closet maybe?" There was a rustling sound. "Yep, definitely a closet. There's a bunch of coats hanging over my head." A doorknob rattled. "The door must be locked from the outside."

"What happened to you?" Sam asked, following Dean's voice through the darkness.

"One of those yellow-eyed dudes attacked me when I started to leave the bathroom. I didn't even have a chance to react. It was just like, BAM! Right in the kisser. Whoever the hell he was, I have to hand it to him...he's one strong motherfu--"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, fumbling in the dark for a doorknob. His brother's voice was now coming from somewhere right in front of him. "Focus. How'd you end up in the closet?"

"Keep your panties on! I'm getting there! I tried to fight back, but I could barely see straight, let alone throw a decent punch. So the dude hit me a couple more times, effectively beating the shit out of me, before telling me that you and I should hit the road. You know, the usual 'don't-interfere-with-my-evil-doings-or-you'll-be-sorry' lecture. After that, I think I just blacked out."

Sam snorted. So the thumping Ellie had heard was the yellow-eyed attacker dumping his brother in the closet before making a run for it. Nice. His hand finally found the cool, smooth metal of a doorknob in the darkness. He unlocked the door and swung it open swiftly. Through the darkness, he could vaguely see Dean's outline, huddled on the floor in the fetal position. He waited patiently for his brother to stand up, but when Dean didn't move, he cleared his throat.

"Dean," he prompted, slightly annoyed, "the door's open now. Let's go. We don't have all day."

After several long seconds, Dean finally spoke, his voice high with panic. "Shit, Sammy. I can't see anything! I'm blind! That bastard blinded me!"

Sam quickly stifled a laugh. "Dean, relax. The storm knocked the electricity out. I can't see anything either."

"Oh." Dean cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed by his hysterical outburst. "Um, could you give me a hand?" he asked, his voice suddenly deep and gruff in what Sam assumed was an attempt to save his bruised masculinity. He found Dean's hand in the darkness and hauled him to his feet.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a few bruises, I think. I've had a lot worse. Where's everyone else?"

Sam quickly reviewed everything Dean had missed: Luke and his friends leaving, the conversation with Detective Reed in the kitchen, the thumping sound Ellie had heard coming from the ceiling, and finally, the strange figure that he and the girls had seen sneaking out of the house. "It had to have been the guy who attacked you," he surmised, playing with the hem of his t-shirt. "I tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone before I could get a good look at him. I left the girls in the kitchen while I looked for you, because...we weren't sure...you know...about what condition you might be in when we found you."

"I can't believe that the cops just up and bolted, leaving Ellie alone while there's some murderous psychopath on the loose," Dean muttered. "What a bunch of cowards."

"Well, in all fairness, Detective Reed did station a cop out front to watch the house."

"Considering that some stranger managed to break in and lock me in a closet, I don't think he's doing such a hot job with the surveillance work. But, then again, that's just the kind of crackerjack police work I've come to know and love from our nation's finest," Dean muttered, sarcasm etched into every word. "The asshole probably went on a quick doughnut run while I got my face pounded. Although I guess it was all worth it, since I overheard Ellie and Lukehaving a very interesting conversation in the living room."

Sam's eyes widened in the darkness. "Really? What'd they say?" He leaned against the wall and listened intently as Dean repeated back the conversation to him, conveniently leaving out any mention about himself and Ellie.

After he was finished, Sam ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully and said, "Okay, let me see if I've got all of this straight. Ellie despises Luke and thinks he's a 'monster.' But Luke's still in love with Ellie, and so he's been trying to protect her from the very people that he's in league with. Meanwhile, Evan -- who is, presumably, one of those people -- wants revenge on Ellie for something she did, and he plans on including her in some bizarre ceremonial ritual that they're holding tonight after sundown in order to exact said revenge."

"Yep. That about covers it."

"Well, at least we're finally getting somewhere. It explains why I'm supposed to be protecting Ellie."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Dean said, confused. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Sam put his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers across the glossy surface of the photograph. "When I came up here to find you, I found a picture at the end of the hall. It was a photo of the girls from my dream." Sam paused and took a deep breath. "On impulse, I took it out of the frame and looked at the back. Someone had written the girls' names there: Jess, Jenna, and Elizabeth. Dean, I think Ellie and Lizzie are the same person: Elizabeth."

"Jesus Christ," Dean whispered, sounding a bit like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

Sam hurried on. "And the Jenna from the photograph? She's Jenna Murphy, Ellie's best friend."

"The perky blond kid from yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Damn..."

"Exactly."

"So...what are we gonna do?"

"I don't know. It's obvious Ellie knows more about what Luke and his buddies are up to than she lets on. Maybe you could question her while I work on convincing Jenna to come over. That way we can keep an eye on her."

"Wait a minute. Why do I have to be the one to question Ellie?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Before Dean could answer and/or punch his brother, a voice drifted up the stairs from the first floor hallway. "Hey, Sam? Are you okay up there?" It was Lillian.

"Yeah! I found Dean! He's okay!"

The brothers heard Lillian relay this information to Ellie who murmured something unintelligible back. "Ellie says that there are flashlights in a box in the bottom of a closet up there. Third door on the right!"

Sam heard Dean scoff in disbelief. "You mean I was sitting right next to a box of flashlights the entire time? Are you freakin' kidding me?"

Sam found the open closet door and felt his way through the doorway to a box on the floor. After a moment's groping, he found two flashlights. He flicked one of them on and heard Dean curse behind him. He grinned and handed his older brother one of the flashlights. "Let's do this."

--------------------------

By the time the brothers entered the kitchen, the storm outside had already subsided. A few puddles in the yard and several dark clouds on the horizon were the only proof that there had even been a storm in the first place. Lillian and Ellie (whose glasses had mysteriously disappeared from her face) stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by flickering candles. Dean sniffed the air. Ah, cinnamon-scented...

Suddenly, Ellie was in front of him, inspecting his bruises. "Dean! Oh my God, are you okay? What happened?"

Sam glanced at his brother and saw for the first time just how badly he had been beaten. His bottom lip was swollen and bloody, and he was developing a nasty bruise on his cheekbone. He was also sporting a fairly deep cut over his left eye.

"Better question," Dean said, staring at Ellie amusedly. "Where'd your glasses go?"

Ellie rolled her eyes and dug her hand into her back pocket. "The stupid things fell off in the dark, and while we were looking for them, someone stepped on them." She glanced furtively in Lillian's direction as she held up her glasses, which had been broken clean in half. Dean and Sam stifled a laugh, and Ellie returned to being concerned about Dean's face. "These bruises look really bad, Dean. Are you in any pain?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," Dean said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Ellie smiled slightly as she shook her head. "I hope so because it looks pretty bad. Does this hurt?" She gently pressed her fingertips against the bruise on Dean's cheek, causing him to flinch and turn away.

"No, not at all," he said through gritted teeth.

Ellie's smile grew wider. "That's what I thought. Sit down. I'll get you some ice." Dean obeyed and plopped down on one of the kitchen stools while Ellie fished around in the freezer.

Meanwhile, Lillian was pacing around the room, her open cell phone in hand. Sam, his eyebrows arched in amusement, watched from the doorway. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, trying to keep any traces of laughter out of his voice.

Lillian glanced up briefly. "Trying to get a damn signal. The phone lines are down, and I'm still trying to get in touch with the Chief to tell him about our intruder friend. But this stupid phone doesn't have any service out here." She took a deep breath and slapped her phone down on the counter. "I freakin' hate technology."

Sam pulled his own phone from within his jeans pocket and found that he didn't have a signal either. "Maybe there's better reception in the living room," he said giving Lillian a meaningful look paired with a small nod in Ellie and Dean's direction.

Lillian caught on quickly. "Of course! What a great idea! Let's try the living room," she said, a bit too enthusiastically as she grabbed Sam by the arm and tugged him towards the door. "We'll be right back!" she called over her shoulder to Dean and Ellie. Sam tried desperately not to laugh out loud as Lillian pulled him all the way down the hall and into the living room. Finally, they arrived in the living room, and Sam shut the door behind them.

Lillian bit her lip. "Do you think they bought it?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Yeah, you're right. We suck at subtlety."

Sam laughed. "Definitely. So, any signal yet?"

Lillian closed her phone and then flipped it back open so that it glowed in the darkness. "Nope. Still nothing. This is so weird. My phone was working perfectly before the storm. Maybe a tower got knocked out or something?"

Sam studied his own phone, which was also still without signal. "Maybe." He glanced at his glowing screen and sighed in disgust. "My battery's almost dead."

There was a long pause. Lillian's silence was so discomforting that Sam shone the flashlight beam in her direction to make sure that she was still standing there. "What's wrong?" he finally asked.

"My battery's almost dead too."

"Huh. That's kinda weird."

"No, it's really weird. It never runs down this fast. I mean, I just got it off the charger before I came over here. The battery was full."

They don't want us to be able to communicate with the outside world, Sam thought, thinking about the yellow eyes from his dream. They've done something to our phones so that we can't call for help...

An image of Jenna flashed into his mind, and, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "We have to find a working phone. It's a matter of life and death."

Lillian raised an eyebrow. "The guy who beat the hell out of Dean wouldn't dare to come back so soon...would he?"

"I don't know," Sam said slowly. "But I think he and his friends are going to hurt someone else - someone that I'm supposed to protect."

Lillian's eyes narrowed as she shoved her cell phone into her pants pocket. "Okaaaay... you've totally lost me. What are you talking about?"

Sam paused. Lillian didn't seem like the type to believe in the supernatural. Proof of that was her earlier tantrum, during which she had accused Dean of murder and nearly shot him. But, then again, he felt like he and Dean were going to need all the help they could get on this one; and, since Lillian had helped them just the night before without asking any questions, he felt like he could trust her. The question was, would she believe him?

"Lillian? Do you believe in people having visions? Like...psychic visions?"

Something in Lillian's eyes flickered for a moment as if she couldn't believe the question that had just left Sam's lips. After studying him for several seconds, she said, "Where is this going exactly?"

Sam sighed. "For a while now, I've been having dreams. Some of them are about people that I know, others are about people that I've never met. And afterwards... some of them come true."

Lillian lips twitched slightly, and Sam noticed that she was wringing her hands tightly together; but she remained silent, so Sam decided to continue. "I dreamt about my girlfriend's impending death weeks before it actually happened. I should've tried to stop it... but I just wanted them to be dreams...not visions, you know?" Sam swallowed, pushing back the flood of emotions that threatened to spill out of him. "Anyway, lately I've been having visions about Ellie and Jenna Murphy. I think that their lives are in danger, and that the guy who broke in and beat up Dean is in on it. Jess...my girlfriend...she was in one of the visions. She was friends with Ellie and Jenna when they were kids, and she wants me to protect them." Sam dug the photograph of the three young girls out of his back pocket and passed it to Lillian, who took it with a trembling hand. She examined the photograph for a moment before she finally spoke, her voice shaking.

"You and Dean...you're not just a couple of college kids with a morbid obsession for crashing wakes, are you?"

Sam smiled. "No. We're not."

"Then who are you? Truthfully?"

Sam bit his lip, thinking. What was the proper response? Hunters? Vigilantes? Ghostbusters?

"We're just a couple of guys who are trying to save others from the same fate that life dealt us."

Sam smiled at the confused and bewildered look that crossed Lillian's face. "I know, I know. I sound like a total crazy person; and before you ask...no, I'm not on any medication."

Lillian snorted. "Maybe you should be." She began fishing through her pockets. "God, I could really use a cigarette."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You smoke?"

"No, but I'm thinking I should start." Lillian ran her hands through her thick curls and turned away. Sam felt his heart sink. She didn't believe him. She thought he was a total lunatic.

"Sam? Do you swear that everything you just told me is the truth?" Lillian asked tentatively, her voice slightly shaky.

"Yeah," Sam said, slightly surprised by the question. "Of course."

"And you really have psychic abilities?"

Sam sighed. "Yep. Unfortunately."

There was a long pause before Lillian turned back to face him with tears shining in her eyes. "Then I guess I'll help you."

Sam was speechless. "Wh-what?" he stuttered.

Lillian smiled despite herself. "You sound surprised."

"Well...yeah. I honestly didn't think that you'd believe me."

Lillian laughed and shook her curls out of her face. "Trust me, Stringbean, I didn't think I would either. But I can't help myself. You're like a damn puppy dog with those eyes of yours."

Sam blushed and grinned. "So I've been told. But seriously...why do you believe me about this, when you didn't believe that Dean was wrongfully accused of murder?"

The tears in Lillian's eyes threatened to spill out over her cheeks. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Because, once upon a time, I knew someone just like you. She had dreams like yours, and she tried to warn me about something... Of course, being the skeptic that I am, I ignored her. But as a result, I lost someone very close to me. It was the worst mistake of my life. The way I figure it, this could be my chance to make it right."

Sam sighed and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Oh, man. Lillian, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Really," Lillian said shakily, handing the photograph back to him. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

Sam pocketed the photograph and told Lillian everything, from his visions to the conversation Dean had heard between Ellie and Luke.

"Whoa," Lillian said after Sam finished, her eyes wide. "This is intense. Do you and Dean have a plan?"

"Well, Dean's supposed to be questioning Ellie for more information about Luke and his buddies, and I was planning on calling Jenna and giving her some lame excuse to get her over here, so that we could keep an eye on her. But the damn phones aren't working..."

Lillian crossed the room to an antique-looking rotary phone sitting on one of the end tables. "It's been a while since we've checked them. Maybe they're fixed by now," she said, her tone hopeful. She lifted the receiver and pressed it to her ear. After listening for a second, she replaced the receiver back in its cradle. "Never mind. The line's still dead."

She hadn't even had time to remove her hand from the telephone when it suddenly rang, its shrill sound reverberating throughout the room. She shrieked involuntarily and ran to Sam, clutching at his arm. They both stared at the phone, dumbfounded, as it continued to ring.

Sam swallowed and glanced down at Lillian, whose fingernails were digging deeply into his arm. "So," he said, his voice strangled. "Do you want to answer that? Or should I?"

---------------------------------

Dean grinned as Sam and Lillian disappeared through the swinging door. He turned to Ellie who had finished filling a small bag with ice and was now tying it shut. "Wow. Could those two be more obvious?" Ellie giggled and Dean's grin grew wider. He liked the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed.

"Okay," Ellie said, holding up the bag of ice. "This is probably going to hurt a bit at first."

Gingerly, she placed the bag against Dean's cheek. He winced and groaned as the frigid bag came into contact with his skin.

"Shhh," Ellie whispered, her voice soothing. "Just give it a second, and it'll feel better. I promise."

Trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his cheek, Dean took a deep breath and studied the girl in front of him. Her tousled brown hair sparkled in the candlelight, and her pale grey eyes seemed to glow. For the first time, he noticed a small scar along her jaw line. It looked like it had once been a pretty deep cut.

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked, impulsively reaching up and tracing the scar with his thumb.

Ellie blushed at Dean's touch. "I was walking through the woods, and I tripped over a tree root. I scratched my face on a stick. I'm sort of a klutz."

"Huh," Dean said, raising an eyebrow. "It must have been some nasty stick."

Ellie frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that looks like it was caused by something a hell of a lot worse than a stick."

Ellie backed away slightly, her eyes guarded. "Well, it wasn't."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, rising off his stool. "Because I'm thinking it might have been your boyfriend."

Ellie looked like she'd been slapped. "How dare--"

But Dean interrupted her. "You can quit with the indignant act, Ellie. I know everything."

For a moment, Dean could've sworn that Ellie's eyes were filled with panic. But as quickly as it had come, the panic was gone, replaced by a genuine look of confusion. "Know what?" she asked, placing the bag of ice on the counter.

"I heard you and Luke talking earlier. I know that you're in danger."

Ellie's mouth hung open in shock. "What?"

"If you let me, I can protect you," Dean said quickly before Ellie could say anything else. "From Luke. From Evan. From all of them. But in order to do that, you're going to have to fill me in on what's really going on here."

Ellie paled and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, Jesus, Ellie, don't do this. Don't lie."

Ellie's face hardened. "I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are. I can tell. You can trust me, I swear. I'll do everything in my power to protect you, but first I need you to tell me what's going on so that I can stop it. Please."

For several seconds, Ellie stared up at Dean defiantly, her jaw clenched with anger. Finally, she murmured, "Don't get involved, Dean," and abruptly turned away, dumping the bag of ice in the sink.

Dean's heart began to race with frustration. "Like hell I'm not getting involved! I already am involved! These bastards tried to kill me, too, y'know!"

Ellie kept her back turned. "Exactly!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp. "So why the hell are you still here? Why don't you leave now, while you still have the chance?"

"Because I'll be damned if I'm just going to leave you here to get fucking murdered!" Dean shouted, grabbing her by the arm and roughly turning her to face him. "Jesus, Ellie, what the hell is the matter with you? Why won't you let me help?"

"Because you can't help me, Dean!" she cried, becoming hysterical. "I thought you could, but you can't! No one can! They killed Josh, and now I'm next! There's no point in you or Sam putting yourself in danger for me. So, if you want to help, get the hell out of here now before something happens to you, too!"

Their faces were just inches away from one another. Dean could feel Ellie's breath on his face. "I'm not leaving you," he said quietly, his expression grave. "Get used to it."

They stood there for a moment, staring at one another, chests heaving in anger. Then, before either of them could comprehend what was happening, they were kissing feverishly, their bodies pressed firmly against one another. Dean pinned Ellie against the sink, his pulse racing uncontrollably as his fingers got entangled in her hair. She let out a low moan of pleasure as his tongue found hers, Dean's hands moving to her waist. He hoisted her up onto the sink, his hands getting lost beneath her shirt as the kiss deepened even further. Her soft, warm skin felt like butter beneath his rough, calloused fingers.

Everything that they'd been arguing about just moments before was forgotten as Dean kissed his way down Ellie's neck, intoxicated by the smell of her hair. She let out a sigh, breathing his name as her hands slid down his chest to claw at his belt...

BRIIIIIIING! The sound of the phone ringing loudly interrupted them.

"Ignore it," Dean breathed between kisses.

But Ellie was pushing away, looking regretful. "No, I need to answer that. It might be the police or something." She slid off the counter, her body brushing against Dean's, and he shivered from the touch. But he stepped aside, allowing her to move across the room to the ringing phone, wiping her mouth as she went.

As Dean straightened his clothes and belt, his brain began to catch up with his body's actions. I thought you'd decided that she was just a cute kid, Dean. You said that you didn't think of her like that at all. So what's up with you jumping her bones in the middle of the kitchen? Get it together already!

It wasn't until Ellie had picked up the receiver that a terrible thought struck Dean: If the phone lines are dead because of the storm, how the hell is someone calling here?

"Ellie, wait--"

Too late. "Hello?" Ellie asked.

Even though Dean was standing on the opposite side of the room, he could hear the voice on the other end of the phone as clear as day. It was the same voice that he'd heard just seconds before passing out.

"Hello, Elizabeth."

Ellie's face hardened, and her eyes flashed with a steely glint. "What do you want?" she asked coldly.

The voice chuckled creepily. "I want you, Ellie. We all want you, in fact. We can't wait until you join us tonight. I bet you taste really good."

Ellie blanched, and anger raced through Dean's veins. He crossed the room and snatched the phone out of Ellie's hand. "Listen here, you perverted bastard. If you touch a single hair on her head, I will beat the living hell out of you! Do you hear me?"

"You. Didn't I tell you to get out of town?"

"I've never been the greatest listener," Dean spat. Next to him, Ellie stood on tip-toe and pressed her cheek next to his so that she could hear the voice on the other end of the phone as well.

"Well, I suggest you listen now, and you listen good. Because I've got someone who wants to say hello. Go ahead, honey. Say hi to your friends."

Dean and Ellie's eyes locked in horror as a terrified female voice came over the line. "Ellie? Ellie, please help me! PLEASE! They're going to kill me! ELLIE!"

There was a scuffle as if people were wrestling in the background, and then the male voice came back on the line. "Such a dramatic little wench, that Jenna. We're not going to kill her...at least not yet... Tell Elizabeth we'll see her soon."

And then, with a click, the line went dead yet again.