The room they were staying in had been a storage room at one point, but Ellen had cleared it out recently as the Winchester boys' visits became more frequent. It now contained a few small pieces of furniture and three cots. The third had been added about two hours ago to accommodate the new guest.
Dean entered the room to find Sam gazing intently at an unconscious Evee as if he could simply will her awake. Highly amused but determining that now was not the best time tease his little brother, Dean instead cleared his throat and waited for Sam to give him his full attention.
As Sam's eyes locked on him, he spoke. "I just got off the phone with Tex," Dean began. "Apparently Tristan disappeared the day after we left. No note; just Jeff's dead body at the end of the bed." He sighed and sat on one of the free cots.
Sam looked over at him, confused. "How did he die?" he asked.
"Spontaneous combustion, "Dean said, eyeing Sam pointedly. "The coroner says that his heart burned from the inside. Tex told me that Evee was the one that found him."
"She was in shock," Sam concluded.
Dean nodded and leaned forward. "So get this: yesterday, Tex tells her that you and I should be reporting back in to the roadhouse by tonight. He says that's the first time she'd actually looked at anyone since she'd found Jeff. He went to check on her this morning, and she was gone."
Sam looked at Evee. "She just left?" he asked.
"Apparently," Dean confirmed. He smirked, "but somehow, she also managed to steal Tex's car, drive to her house, pack some stuff, and drive off on her bike. I just got finished putting it in the back."
Sam sighted and sat back into his chair. He looked at his brother. "Why'd she come to us?" he wondered.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know man, but I hope she's back to normal when she wakes up. She's hot, and I don't think the two of us are gonna be able to fend off all the pickup lines. The Roadhouse will be burnt to the ground by ten tonight."
Sam was about to reply when he heard moaning coming from behind him. Evee's brows were drawn down, and a frown marred her face. Sam watched as her head tossed from side to side.
"I think she's having a bad dream," he commented, concerned. Dean stood and walked over to the cot just as Evee started to thrash around. His eyes widened.
"I've seen that look before," his voice betraying a panic that only Sam could recognize. "She's having a vision. Hold her down!"
By now, Evee was cradling her head in her hands, her groans of pain becoming louder. Dean held onto her legs to keep her from hurting herself. Sam moved to grab her arms to do the same, but the moment his hands touched her skin, it felt like a jolt of electricity went through his body. He heard Dean scream his name before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his sight went black.
A moment later, Sam could see again.
Huge machines filled the building. There were no windows, but the yellow florescent lights showed a flight of stairs leading up to his left. There were three doors on the wall to his right. The middle door opened, and through the gloom he could make out the figure of a seated person. Sam could feel a pressure on his left hand.
Sam blinked, and he found himself inside of the room. The figure in the center was male, though with his head hanging down, Sam could not see his face. His shirt and pajama pants were in tatters, with blood staining the cloth in many places. His dirty blonde hair was blotted with dirt and blood. The pressure increased, and for the first time Sam realized that a hand was holding his own.
This was unusual. Usually in his dreams, Sam was just a bystander. Most of the time, he saw the visions through the killer's eyes. Right now he was in Evee's premonition, and it seemed as if she was able to walk freely throughout the event. Could he do that? Sam was contemplating the possibility when a woman with dark hair stepped out of a shadowed corner. She walked over to the chained man, smirking. Standing in front of him, she pulled her hand back slowly. The sharp crack of her slap echoed throughout the otherwise empty room.
The pressure on Sam's hand increased until it was almost painful. Automatically, he looked over to his hand. What he saw surprised him.
He could actually see Evee. He hadn't even noticed her physical presence before his moment. He suspected she had been there the whole time. She was wearing the same clothes that she had on in the 'real' world. Her gaze was locked on the man handcuffed to the metal chair. The expression on Evee's face almost broke Sam's heart.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Tris," she mumbled, dejected. Suddenly Sam understood. The handcuffed man was Tristan. He hadn't run away, someone had taken him. Sam had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had a strong idea who, or rather what that woman was…
Leading Evee gently, Sam moved over toward the side so that he could get a better look at the woman's face.
Tristan coughed a bit, and then spit some blood out of his mouth. He raised his head to the woman and scowled at her. She slapped him again, and laughed when his head went limp again.
"Just kill me," Tristan said weakly.
The woman chuckled. Using her forefinger, she lifted up his chin up and leaned down until their noses were almost touching. "Don't worry," she said apathetically, "I need you alive for now." She smiled, but her eyes held no warmth. "I'm afraid though, that you're just too volatile to be my host for an extended period of time."
As Sam watched as the woman's eyes turned a sickening shade of yellow, he swallowed hard. Damn it.
If Tristan noticed the change, he didn't show it. "Why?" he asked softly.
The woman smirked and released his chin, causing his head to fall down uselessly. Turning away, she spoke. "Tell you what," she said casually, "I'll kill you, swift and painlessly." She paused and turned to face him. "After you do something for me."
Tristan frowned at her. "What?" he asked.
The woman walked over to him playfully, and then went down to whisper into his ear. Straining to hear, Sam leaned in close. Tristan jerked back in horror. "No!" he screamed. The woman stepped back, and then a huge black cloud burst from her mouth. As the last of the cloud spewed out, she fell to the floor, unconscious.
The black mass hovered in the air for a moment. Tristan stared up at it, confused. Then, without warning, the inky cloud converged on him, forcing itself inside his body.
Immense pain flooded Sam's chest, and he nearly doubled over. When he looked up, Tristan was leering at the young woman with cold, yellow eyes. "I'll let you have a front row seat," he said in a low voice.
The pain in his chest increased, and Sam realized that it wasn't his own. He looked over to Evee to find her ready to collapse from pain. Sam felt the world spin. He clutched to Evee's hand like a lifeline. He barely heard the woman scream in agony, nor did he see the flames.
As he began to fall to the floor, a hand appeared out of nowhere, grabbing his right shoulder. It pulled Sam viciously to the right, sending him off balance. The action caused his hand to be ripped out from Evee's.
It felt like he had fallen off the edge of a cliff, his body weight never hitting the floor.
Sam bolted off the Roadhouse floor seconds later, his mind once again in the same room as his body. Dean had his hands on both of his shoulders, the contact having been the catalyst to ending his participation in Evee's vision. Breathing hard, Sam looked wildly around for a moment as if he didn't understand what he was seeing. When Sam continued to be unresponsive, Dean did the only thing hi could think of: shake Sam wildly and scream at him.
"Sam? Sammy! You okay?" Dean asked repeatedly.
The shaking did it, and Sam found himself fending off his brother's advances. "Dude, I'm fine. Will you stop trying to turn my brain into a smoothie?"
The boys heard a moan behind them, and Sam remembered Evee. He wasn't sure if she was out of the vision as well. So when he turned around to look at her, it took him by surprise to see her nearly white, wide eyes staring blankly at him.
Evee was currently trying to crawl into the fetal position and rock back and forth at the same time. Sam's psychology classes kicked in. she was going back into shock, the stress of finding a dead body in her brother's room compounded with the realization of what had actually happened to Tristan.
Knowing he needed to do something, but not being sure of what there was for him to do, Sam rose on shaky legs. He crawled up onto the bed, ignoring Dean's protest of him getting any closer to the person that had triggered his precognitive powers. Sam rested his back on the wall the cot had been leaned against, and then pulled an unresisting Evee into his lap.
Dean threw his hands up into the air at his brother's irresponsible actions. "What the hell, man?" he asked. "You going domestic on me? I swear this is turning into one big chick-flick mo-"
"The demon has Tristan." Sam interrupted softly, and Dean froze. Sam's voice had been devoid of any hint of emotion, conveying his seriousness. Sam rarely spoke in that tone, and when he did, Dean listened. And shut up.
Dean cursed softly to himself. Of course Sam would react that way to this new information. Hell, he'd be hard pressed to keep his mocha persona given that information. Feeling crappy for his harsh judgments earlier, Dean moved to the cot and took Evee's hand. He squeezed it a little as he made a silent promise to her that he would return her brother to her safely. She wouldn't lose any more of her family. This promise to keep her surviving family in tact was similar to the one he had made to his father as he had stared into the flames surrounding the man's body.
Promise made, Dean moved to go. Evee, however, didn't seem to want to let go of his hand. Dean contemplated trying to escape her vice-like grip, but decided that she'd lost enough for the night. He gave his brother a glare that promised death if he said a word of this later (to which Sam only shrugged), and moved to sit on the pillow of the cot.
As Dean propped himself against the wall adjacent to his brother, the cot groaned in protest of the addition of a third weight to its flimsy frame.
Dean looked to Sam to make a humorous remark to lighten the mood, only to find both of the cot's other occupants fast asleep.