Disclaimers - Usual.

Chapter 10

Sleep deprivation. It was a tactic used to brainwash people. It was also a good way to keep someone off- balance and scared. And Thomas would not allow Kaitlyn to sleep. Every time she managed to fall asleep, nightmares started playing through her mind. They were rendered all the more terrifying because her subconscious knew that each nightmare was based on a real event. She closed her eyes - and relived the crash that killed her husband. She drifted off to sleep - and watched the last moments of each of Thomas' victims' lives, the culminations of his planning and tenacity. She felt his enthusiasm and pride in the sickening accomplishments that danced before her eyes. So she tried to stay awake.

Initially, the only thoughts that kept her company were those related to Sam's vision and seeing herself die. She tried to think of safeguards – ways to avoid that scene - but she knew she wouldn't be able to. That inevitability was terrifying, but it also stirred something awake in her that had yet to take hold. After a few hours, though, Thomas seemed to tire of her attempts to elude sleep and avoid the dreams, so he invaded her waking hours. He hung on the edge of her senses, causing her to hear a noise behind her or catch a glimpse of a shadow out of the corner of her eyes. He played in her periphery, heightening her fear, and driving her up the wall.

The lines between sleeping and waking blurred as the night went on. She couldn't tell when she'd fallen asleep, and she was never sure if she'd actually woken up or if she was still dreaming. It seemed Thomas most enjoyed re-animating her husband, then slipping to his own face, all the while remaining dead and bloody from the accident. He'd appear to her, whisper to her, threaten her. He also kept a near constant background noise of screams. In her exhaustion, she was maddeningly afraid, but increasingly frustrated and angry that he would use her husband and twist her memories to cause her fear and pain. She struggled not only with her emotions, but also to maintain her grasp on reality.

"Stop it!" she yelled, when she finally got angry enough. To her surprise, all the noise and pressure that had been building stopped.

She waited.

"Boo!" Thomas was standing behind her, smiling his repulsive, evil little smile. Kaitlyn let out a startled scream and spun, finding herself face-to-face with him. She backed into the wall. "Remember when you kicked me out of your head? You taught me something new, that emotions can be turned into energy… and pain…" Thomas reached out his hand and laid it on her head. He manipulated her sense of touch, as he had been doing with her senses of sight and sound. Her whole body erupted in pain and went rigid. It felt something akin to being shocked. Kaitlyn couldn't push him away, since he wasn't physically present; but that didn't really matter, as she couldn't move anyway. The pain was so all-consuming, she felt no sense of comfort in the knowledge that she was not going to die in this room.

Sam! She reached out, finding Sam's mind through the haze. Help me!

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Sam was having a hard time sleeping. He couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. After Kaitlyn's "hallucination," the three of them had sat down and talked about what, exactly, Kaitlyn had seen and experienced. They were hoping to glean as much information as possible from the limited contact they had with the elusive man. She had a few more incidents of sudden jumping or staring at something the two men couldn't see. Sam hated leaving her alone in her motel room, but neither he nor Dean really knew what they would be able to do for her anyway. And they had a long trip starting in the morning. They needed to get some sleep.

Dean noticed Sam's edginess and wondered how much of it was Sam's normal empathy, and how much was the connection he had forged with Kaitlyn. And Dean was pretty sure that there was, indeed, something connecting them. Sam flinched whenever Kaitlyn startled, and it looked like it pained him to leave her alone. He didn't know if either of them was aware of this new bond. And he only hoped it would wear off when Kaitlyn was no longer around. It wasn't that he didn't like her, he just thought a constant psychic connection with someone would prove to be a distraction. And in their business, any distraction could be fatal.

Sam sat straight up in bed when he heard Kaitlyn call to him for help. "Dean…Kaitlyn!" That was all it took for Dean to be up and moving, too. Dean was first to her room. He kicked in the door and scanned the interior looking for signs of an intruder. Sam pushed past him and spotted Kaitlyn standing rigidly against the wall as if pinned. Sam's stomach did a loopty-loop as the sight reminded him painfully of others he'd seen pinned to a wall.

"Kaitlyn?" Sam gently lifted her face with his hands so she would be able to see him. The instant he touched her, though, a current of pain shot through his hands. "Ouch!" he hissed, and reflexively pulled them away.

After another moment, whatever was going on – whatever Thomas was doing – stopped. The sudden lack of force holding her in place caused Kaitlyn to drop to the floor. She put her hand to her head and started to cry again. Sam knelt down and held her.

"I hate this," she whispered.

"Shhh…" Sam said comfortingly, rocking her a bit.

"No. I hate this," she repeated, her voice thick with tears. Sniffling, she pushed away from Sam and weakly got to her feet, wiping her eyes with her hands. "I hate feeling so out of control – so helpless." She let out a frustrated growl. "I hate being afraid."

"What happened?" Dean asked. He hated feeling useless.

"Have you ever seen The Princes Bride?" Kaitlyn asked, bitterness lacing her voice. When Dean nodded in the affirmative, she continued. "Remember 'the machine'? Yeah… It was kind of like that."

Sam was giving her the worried look that Dean thought he'd been wearing far too much lately. He watched to see what was going to happen next.

"Uh, I know this might not be the best time to ask, but… What's going on with you two?" Dean needed to know if his suspicions were right, and if it was something he needed to be worried about in the future.

Sam gave him a questioning look, but Kaitlyn seemed to know what he was talking about. "Which part?" Kaitlyn asked with a slight smile. She was grateful for the diversion, taking the focus off of her. "I can tell you my defenses are down. That probably means that any psychic within a 100 miles can read me like an open book. Sam's probably picking up my very loud broadcast, training or no."

Sam had his own question. "How did you call me? You're not a telepath…"

"No, but you are. Or could be. I just empathically connected to you and then 'called' to you. You were able to pick up the message."

Dean was disconcerted by the implications of what Kaitlyn was saying. Sam had abilities he hadn't tapped into yet and couldn't control. No wonder it wants Sam so bad…

"Right…" Dean nodded sarcastically. He was tired, and this rubbed him the wrong way. "Of course... Empathic connection... Is this connection something we're gonna have to worry about for the rest of our lives? 'Cause, lady, I gotta say... We've got enough to worry about without Sam becoming a receiver for the psychic hotline."

"Dean!" Sam barked, surprised by the outburst. Dean's anger, which always seemed to be simmering just below the surface these days, flared at times Sam couldn't anticipate.

"He's right, Sam..." Kaitlyn laid her hand on his chest and nodded understandingly at the older hunter. "I know your brother is your top priority, Dean. And I know this isn't easy for you." She looked down for a moment before looking back up into his eyes, "… better than you think." She smiled wryly, "But to answer your question... No, I don't think you have to worry about the connection being permanent – lack of stress, distance, time... it will not be a problem soon enough."

Dean stared back at her. He recalled the content of the Sam's vision, and it chilled him for an instant. He rubbed his hand awkwardly through his hair, "Oh... I'm sorry... I didn't mean it like that..."

"I know," she nodded, with more understanding than Dean thought he deserved at the moment.

"We can still stop that from happening," Sam said hopefully. "We saved Rosie. We changed the outcome of that vision…" Sam insisted. No one in the room was really sure if that was true. And one vision changed out of - how many, now? – nine? – did not inspire confidence.

"Look... There isn't much we can do for you if this guy's attacking you from the inside. But we can stay here and watch over you." Dean offered softly.

Kaitlyn shook her head no. "Thanks, though... Really. You're going to be driving; you need to sleep. You too, Sam. Me... I can usually sleep anywhere, and I've got the whole backseat." She smiled tightly. Under her breath she added, "If I sleep…" She moved from her corner, urging Sam to do the same, and ushered them both toward the door.

"If you need anything..." Sam started.

"I'll call," she nodded.

Satisfied that their connection seemed to be temporary or, at least, the result of Kaitlyn's highly stressful situation, Dean allowed himself to be herded to the door. They'd sort the rest out later. "Okay…well, I'm going back to bed. You comin', Sam?"

"Yeah, in a minute." Sam turned to Kaitlyn. "Are you going to be okay?"

"One way or another." Kaitlyn attempted to give Sam a reassuring smile. She reached out and held onto his arm for a minute. "Thanks, Sam, for coming."

"I didn't do anything."

"You came. That counts for something." Sam nodded in appreciation for her attempt to make him feel better. How ironic.

When Sam left the room, Kaitlyn grabbed the blanket and pillow from the bed and sat herself on the floor in the corner of the room. The blanket wrapped around her, aided by the solidness of the adjoining walls, allowed Kaitlyn the illusion of safety and being embraced. She settled in, hoping she could weather the rest of the night's terrors. She knew there would be a few more hours before they hit the road. She didn't know what the road trip would bring, but it had to be better than this – sitting and waiting. At least they'd be moving.

It was still dark when they hit the road. None of them had been able to sleep, so they decided to put the time to good use.

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As the second straight day of driving wore on, the tension in the car was palpable. The energy buzzing in the air seemed to be feeding on the passengers in the car rather than helping them. An adrenaline rush can only be maintained for so long. Dean kept the stereo up to help him concentrate and focus on the long drive. He would have liked the volume level even higher, but Sam got agitated when he couldn't hear Kaitlyn. Dean got agitated when he could. The drive was punctuated by Kaitlyn occasionally making startled sounds which degraded to whimpers. The urgent need to arrive at their destination was reaching critical levels, and they had only just gotten on the western end of the Pennsylvania turnpike, meaning they had about five more hours of travel until they reached their destination.

Kaitlyn was pressed hard in the corner of the backseat, leaning against the door, with her knees curled up to her chest. She alternated staring out the window and closing her eyes. Neither really helped. When she stared out the window, she saw reflections in the glass staring back at her or images of the torments Thomas had heaped upon his victims. He had added visions of her own death to his portfolio. When she closed her eyes, memories washed over her, or she would hear him whisper to her. She occasionally felt him touch her, sending shivers through her body. She was reaching a breaking point. All the while, in the background, was the white-noise of screaming that she couldn't shut out. When she reached a desensitization point with the noise, Thomas would make everything go quiet for a time, only to reintroduce the sound. The more he did this, the harder it was to shut out the noise.

She was in an eyes-closed phase when things suddenly got quiet, so quiet that all noise seemed to be blocked out. Kaitlyn couldn't even hear the noise of the stereo. She knew this meant trouble. She lifted her head from her knees and looked around. On the other side of the back seat, she saw the rotting corpse of her husband. She let out a disgusted groan as he continued to rot, at an unnatural speed, right before her eyes. She closed her eyes again and hid her face in her knees. But the total silence that blanketed her was broken by drying, curling sounds – sounds like those you would hear in a movie to portray decay. While the sounds may not occur in real life, they conjured up images in her head that sickened her without even having to actually see the corpse next to her.

She heard a small thud and looked over, knowing even as she did that she wouldn't like what she saw. One of the corpse's hands had fallen off and landed on the floor. The eyeless head, which by this time had little skin left on in, turned with a crackling and snapping tissue and tendons and smiled – a lipless, grotesque smile. I am not going to puke. Dean would kill me. Just don't look. She was about to turn away when she noticed the stomach start to expand. Unable to keep from looking, she braced herself. She could only whimper, but she lifted her hand and started tapping the seat in front of her to get the attention of the hunters. She had a feeling she was going to need to make a quick exit from the car.

Sam noticed the tapping and turned to see the look of mingled fear and disgust on Kaitlyn's face. He had no idea what she was seeing, but he knew it was bad. "Dean," Sam said without taking his eyes off Kaitlyn. "Dean! Pull over…now!"

Kaitlyn watched the stomach continue to expand, and with a sudden tearing sound, the stomach burst and out flooded crawling bugs of the kinds you only see under rocks. Centipedes, cockroaches, various beetles, and other bugs streamed out of the opening in the stomach. More escaped through other orifices and wounds on the man's body. Kaitlyn screamed and immediately fumbled to release her seatbelt. She had always had a dislike for bugs, but bugs en-mass terrified her. They were the stuff of nightmares for her. Released from the seatbelt, she was practically climbing the interior of the vehicle trying to put as much distance between herself and the insects pouring out like liquid toward her. In a blind panic, she opened the car door to escape.

The car had slowed considerably and was already on the side of the road when Kaitlyn fell to the ground. Another thirty seconds and Dean was standing next to Sam, watching. They exchanged worried glances. She had rolled when she fell out of the car, and seemed uninjured. She was on her knees in the fetal position and it was obvious she was shaking. Sam started to approach her, when he heard a noise. He looked at Dean. Dean shook his head, not knowing what was going on any more than he did. The sound that came from Kaitlyn was somewhere between sobbing and laughter – or maybe a combination of the two. She was hysterical.

Sam started to approach her again, but he stopped short when she uncurled and screamed. It was the sound of torment, frustration, and suffering. She dropped her head and breathed hard. Slowly, she shifted to her hands and knees and then stood. Kaitlyn walked in circles at the side of the road. It took Sam a moment to realize she was talking to herself.

Sam looked at Dean again, who shrugged and pointed to his head, his finger making a circle – the universal "crazy" sign. Sam frowned and slowly drew closer to Kaitlyn, not wanting to spook her and cause her to bolt.

"… 'For God has not given us a Spirit of fear, but of power and love and discipline.' 'There is no fear in the perfect love of God, for love drives out fear.' 'For God has not given us a Spirit of fear…'" Kaitlyn was repeating these words like a mantra, drawing strength from her faith, but lost in her own world.

"Kaitlyn?" Sam cautiously called out to her, trying to reach her, bring her back, or get some kind of sign she was still with them.

After a few more awkward seconds, she halted her pacing and stopped speaking. She looked directly at Sam. He was startled by the determination he read in her tear-filled gaze. "I will not fall. I will not be overcome." She cocked her head to the side. "Do you hear me?" she said a little louder. The question was addressed to Thomas. "Your games end with me." She returned her attention to the men before her and said, "If I am going to die, I'm at least going to go out standing." She heard Thomas laugh, but this time, instead of cringing, she clenched her fists, strode purposefully back to the car, and got in the back seat.

She continued to be plagued by visions and memories, sounds and feelings, but they were getting old, and she would not allow herself to be overcome with fear – ever again.

As Dean watched Kaitlyn go back to the car, he remembered a quote their dad had made them learn when they were young and recited, "'Courage is not the absence of fear. It is acting in spite of it.'" Sam nodded his understanding. She was not out of the woods yet, but she might just find her way. And both brothers silently agreed that they would do what they could to help lead her home.

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Though he had honestly been surprised by the sudden shift in her emotions from pure terror to anger, tinted, yet fueled, by fear, Thomas merely laughed. Whatever hope she found in her reserves of strength didn't matter to him, and it wouldn't last long. He'd seen her end through her own eyes, thanks to Sam's vision. She just proved herself to be more fun than he thought. He would miss her when she was gone.

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tbc

Thanks again for the reviews, especially in light of the alerts being down. Thanks so much for riding with me. And thanks for all the help to my trio of editors, cheerleaders, and friends. You guys rock!