There had been others. Mantha was no doe eyed virgin being kissed for the first time. There'd been idiots and good guys, even some bad guys. Not to say she'd gotten around, because most had been first, some even second, base. Not one to part her legs, she hadn't really gotten far save for one or two men. They were meager thoughts now. This. Whether it was him or her, radiated so much more than a simple kiss. Her hand gripped tight to his hair slid to his shoulder to grip the collar of his jacket. The skin of her body was tingling with it, with some kind of power she didn't understand.

As they embraced, she felt an oddly painful sharp shock to her lips. To his. They snapped back, simultaneously, and stared at one another. They were both heaving air from their lungs, and her pale blue hues met his hazel ones. Confusion matched their features.

"The hell..." she whispered, "Was that?"

Something shocked, as her vision began to wane. The sight before her, Sammy staring at her in confusion, dimmed and another took it's place. Back and forth, she snapped from reality to something else entirely and she reached her uninjured arm to her head.

"What...?" she breathed before a mind numbing pain scorched behind her eyes. Dimly, she heard a door open, but she couldn't focus. It was as if someone had just beamed her skull with a two by four, from the inside. Her back arched with the pain, and panicked voices met her ears, but she wasn't there.

Dark hair, black eyes. A figure stood in a lone kitchen of granite counters and white linolium floors. Too clean, too perfect. Adorned with a long grey jacket, with large buttons, he stood in front of his refrigerator, and various papers littered the surface. A poster for a musical, "The King and I" Shawnee Metropolitan Theatre. Bloofield, Indiana. The man stared at a photograph in his hands. It was a picture of a woman holding her daughter, embracing, laughing. A cruel smirk marred his lips and he threw the photograph to the ground, the ornate frame snapping and the glass shattering in different directions. Then, as if sensing someone watching, he turned, glanced to her. The smirk grew and he slowly raised a black gloved hand, long finger extended over his lips. Evil. It radiated from him, and though his skin was far from perfect, marred with small tears on his face, he smiled at her. Slowly, he approached her, and a hand moved over her eyes. Another hand grasped at her arm, and an intense burn flooded her body. A scream of pain and terror met her ears, and she snapped back to reality.

Gasping, she blinked rapidly and recognized the scream was her own. Sam held her on the ground beside the bed. Her arm throbbed, and she felt contorted with the pain. Sarah was at her other side, gripping her hand in her own, her face horrified. Dean stood just at her feet and they were all staring. It took her a moment to catch up, and her head still pounded. What just happened? The pain in her brain was dulling to a migraine, but she hurt. Looking down at her arm, she noted that just above the stitched cut was a indented burn, a brand. A deep triangle marred the skin there, on the inside of her bicep. In the inside of the triangle, what looked like...an eye. It was moderately disfigured because of the intensity of the flesh, still sizzling, but it was there just the same. They all stared at it now, shocked. Turning, she shoved, as best as she was able, Sam away from her. Leaning against the side of the bed as he lost his balance and fell to his ass, she glared at him.

"What. The fuck. Did you just do to me?!"

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Sarah was sitting on the chair by the window, glancing outside every few moments. When she turned back to the room again, she noted Dean was staring at her as he moved. This was so not the time, but she felt her face flush with color. Shaking her head, she turned back to the others. Mantha was laying on the bed, a cool washcloth over her eyes, and Sarah knew she was trying to quell the headache behind her lids. Sam sat on the other bed, his head in his hands, and they were bickering.

"Well you obviously did something, because whatever the fuck that was? That has never happened to me. Ever."

Sam grew aggitated, Sarah could see it in his eyes and in the way he clenched his jaw. Dean was pacing back and forth before foot of the two beds, clearly freaked, and not pleased that he had no idea what just happened. None of them did and the air was thick with tension.

"You mean when we kissed? You've never been kissed before?"

Dean and Sarah shared a look of surprise before she spoke to Sam, "You kissed her?" Mantha groaned in aggitation.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him to his feet. Body nearly shaking with frustration, he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number, leaving the room, and dragging Sam with him. When the door slammed, Sarah rose and moved to the bed beside her sister.

"So...you kissed him?"

"Didn't he just say that?"

"Oh, don't you get snippy with me," Sarah muttered before grabbing her sisters arm to stare at the mark again. "What happened?"

"I have no idea," Mantha answered, gesturing with her other arm. "We were kissing, which by the way was amazing, and then he shocked me. Like...his lips did. And I'm only saying this once, so you can go ahead and explain it to the Hardy Boys. We pulled away, because we both felt that, and were really confused," she pulled the cloth from her eyes and moved to sit up a bit, leaning against the head board. "And then...I wasn't here. I was...somewhere else." Sarah watched her eyes squint as she tried to remember what she'd seen, "Some guy standing in the middle of a really clean kitchen. He was looking at a picture and then he threw it on the floor. He walked to me, covered my eyes, touched my arm and that was it. I snapped out of it."

"So wait...like a vision?"

"Oh fuck, Sarah, I don't know. We've been friends for a long time, have I ever had a vision? Like...ever?!"

Sarah sighed and she glanced to the door where the guys had disappeared, and looked back to her, "No...but didn't the books say Sam was psychic?"

"Yeah...so?"

"I don't know. It's just weird that he would be and then you have a vision after kissing him."

"What...like he shared that? Oh fucking great. That's awesome."

Wincing as she did so, she rose from the bed and moved to the table. Grabbing a glass and the large bottle of whiskey, she poured half a glass and tipped it back. Sighing with the burn, she did it a second time. Shaking her head, she all but slammed the glass down.

"So what, we're supposed to go to where this guy was? Fuck that, Sarah. That shit hurt."

"Obviously."

Silence descended and they both left one another to their thoughts. Sarah was utterly confused and she rose to the laptop that Sam had left there. Sitting, she pulled the chair close to the table and opened the top. Opening the browser, she moved to the search bar and typed. Samantha watched her fingers fly over the keys but she didn't bother asking what she was doing. They had almost the same brain, so she already knew. Moving to her small bag, she removed new clothes from it, holding them tight in her hands. Staring at them for a moment, she took in a deep breath and then blew it out in one stream of air.
"I'm going to shower," she spoke, turning and moving to the small motel bathroom.

" 'Kay," Sarah responded, without looking up.

Samantha moved into the bathroom, removing her bloodied shirt from her skin and tossing it to the trash. Fuck housekeeping, she thought. They'd have something to gossip about now. Nearly growling, she peeled her pants and the rest of her clothing from her and turned on the shower, stepping under the blasting heat. Heaven. True heaven. Losing herself in the ritual of cleaning herself, she shut her mind off completely, ignoring everything that was going on around them.

Fingers continued to fly over the keyboard in steady succession. It was clear Sarah knew how to type, how to research, and her mind was going a mile a minute. Shaking her head periodically, she exed out of the browser to open another and start again. Searching everything, she finally came up with something. She'd typed in 'Identifying Marks AND Psychic AND Mythology.' The brand like burn on Mantha's arm came into focus in digital picture form. Sarah ran a hand over her face as she leaned back, "Crap..."

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Sam pulled himself from Deans grasp, with a rough shrug of an annoyed shoulder. Deans face was focused on the conversation he was having, but Sam only crossed his arms and leaned against the building. His mind was on what had happened. Is that what he looked like when he'd had visions in the past? Yellow eyes was dead, and everything should have been over, so he hadn't had a vision since. That didn't mean he didn't remember how they felt. Like your skull was going to split open. Even so, he'd never had one that had manifested itself physically.

"Yeah, it's a pain in the ass, I get that, Bobby," Dean growled into the phone, "But we're dealing with so much more than a typical hunt here. We've got Angels up our ass."

Bobby must have said something that pissed Dean off, because he threw his head back and stared at the sky, "Dammit, Bobby, just tell me if you've ever heard of a...psychic," he said the word with obvious distaste and caught a pissed glance from Sam, "Passing it on to someone else."

Dean groaned then, shaking his head and placing his hand on his brow, "No, no it's fine. Just keep looking."

Hanging up the phone, he turned to Sam, "He's got zilch. Nothing. What exactly happened in there?!"

"I don't know, Dean!" Sam shrugged away from the wall and paced to the car, running a hand threw his hair, "We kissed."

"And then she went all you a year ago?"

"No...it was...I don't even know how to explain this. I was sewing her up, everything was great, there was chemistry. Then, our lips shocked. Kind of like a static shock, only stronger. It actually hurt. I pulled back, so did she and then boom. Her eyes rolled back and she was gone. You saw the rest."

"It doesn't make any sense though, your...visions, never affected your body. Not in a 'attacked in the vision' way. Can you explain that?"

Sam turned to Dean, opened his mouth prepared to answer. He had absolutely no clue. But the answer was taken from him.

"I can."

Both men turned, on the offensive, already annoyed. Another figure they'd yet to meet, and Dean pulled his gun from it's place to hold it at his side. The figure was not overly tall, but his eyes were shadowed. In a brooding sort of way. A soft shadow of beard danced over a cleft chin, rising to the sides of his strong face, meeting the dark brown tossled hair on his head. He wore a collared and tailored shirt, and black slacks, beneath a long tan open trench coat. A tie was at his throat, but it was loose and backwards. The man was staring at them, showing very little emotion.

"And who the hell are you?" Dean said, stepping forward a bit.

"My name is Castiel. I'm the one who pulled you from Hell."

Deans eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side, his brows going over his eyes.

"You're...what?"

"I apologize for not coming forward sooner, but I needed to be sure the four of you were together. Where are the girls?"

"Inside," Sam spoke, "And you're not going near them until you tell us who you are."

"You are protective of them already. This is good."

"Castiel, huh? Let me guess, you're another fucking angel."

"Angels do not...fuck, as you say. What we do is far more than that, but I digress. Yes, I am an Angel. I am Nora's fated."

"Joy," Sam rasped, "You wanna give us more answers than she did? Because the ring around the rosey is getting on our nerves."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Why are we suddenly carting girls around? What 'Destiny' are we a part of? Why did you pull me from hell in the first place? And for the love of God, keep your voice down," his eyes darted to the door.

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. You lied to them."

"I didn't tell them I was in hell if that's what you mean."

"It is. Why?"

"Because it's none of their business."

"You are their business. Sam is their business. Your lives are linked now."

"HOW?!" Sam hissed.

"Follow Nora's instructions. Train them. Sam, you will need to help Samantha with the visions. Dean, you will need to watch over Sarah. These girls are wholly unprepared for what is coming," he paused, as if reflecting, "That is our error. We should have interfered sooner. We did not expect their early lives to not follow pattern."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The girls were supposed to have had the same upbringing the two of you had. But...it was thwarted. Demons can be...resiliant."

"You're saying demons screwed up their lives?"

"Yes. They were unaware of that. They still are. Keep this from them."

"What am I supposed to be protecting Sarah from?" Dean spoke, utterly confused and frustrated.

"Everything. And they both need protection. In due time, answers will reveal themselves."

"We aren't going to baby sit full grown adults!"

"You are. It is destiny."

"If you say that one more time..."

Sam shook his head, taking another step forward, "How did she get it? How is Mantha psychic now?"

"You transferred it. As you were meant to do."

"Wait...I gave it to her?"

"Yes. It was destined."

"Why?"

But Castiel was gone.

Hope you enjoyed it. I'm typing as fast as I can. XD I hope to write another chapter tonight. If not tonight, tomorrow. Just wait, oh the surprises I have! :)

Slick Black Velvet