A/N Here it is. A long one. Hope it was worth the wait :)

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin' on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

FAITH – YOU FOUND ME

Interstate 90
Impala

The last time I'd been in Wisconsin, I'd been fleeing a murdered father, by my own hand, but not of my own doing. While Dean had avoided Lawrence, Kansas for most of his life, I had been doing the same – only I found it was the entire state that I avoided. John had done a few jobs up this way, wendigos, poltergeists... I always stayed behind. But John wasn't here anymore, and we had work to do.

We were heading down a familiar stretch of highway that would bring us to Evansville, it was further South than where I'd run from, but the memories were still flooding back. I sat in the back seat, staring out the window. I could feel Sam glancing back at me every now and then, and he'd exchanged concerned looks with Dean, but they didn't speak. I sighed. I didn't even know what day it was. But I remembered that fateful day...

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years earlier

It was a Saturday. Saturday afternoon, on a cold winter morning. Snow was scattered on the ground outside and I was pulling on a sweater, preparing to go out into the cold and meet my friends. We were going to the movies a town over.

I ran down the stairs, my warm boots thumping loudly as I went. There was a coat rack by the door and my long trenchcoat was waiting for me. I grabbed it and was halted by a voice behind me.

"Where do you think you're going young lady?" He asked, and I turned, a defiant look in my eyes. Dad. We'd been arguing since last night, same old crap. He wanted me to focus more on my studies and less on the boy I'd been hanging around with, and I wanted to do what every other normal teenage girl wanted to do. I wanted to have some fun.

"I'm meeting Lexi and we're going to the movies." I informed him, crossing my arms in front of me.

"What about Travis?" He asked, looking at me.

"What about him?" I asked, skirting around the question.

"You are going to tell him you can't see him anymore, correct?" He said. I looked at him. He'd aged a lot in the last eight years, since my mom had died. His usual brown hair was shot through with grey now, and more lines etched his face than they had when she'd been alive, when we'd been happy.

I sighed and looked at him. "No Dad. I'm not." I said, shaking my head.

He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Elizabeth. Your grades have been slipping, you're spending way too much time out, you haven't been to church in three weeks and I'm the minister! How do you think that looks?!" He chided me.

"I don't care how it looks!" I said loudly, pacing. "You're always on my back Dad, why can't you just let me grow up!"

"You're fifteen years old!" He said argued. "You're still a child!" I glared at him.

"No I'm not Dad!" I yelled and he looked at me."No, I'm not." I said quietly, calming down.

"Elizabeth." He said, reaching out to me.

"No... no you don't get to lecture me Dad. You can't just leave me here for days on end to fend for myself while you go off on these crazy trips of yours with people I don't even know, and then get to tell me what I can do, when I can do it. It doesn't work both ways." I argued. He sighed.

"Beth, I have important work..." I threw my hands up in the air and groaned.

"Yeah, yeah, important work! So important you won't tell me a thing about it?" I asked, looking at him.

"It's for your own safety." He said back to me. I snorted, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"You know I'm sick of hearing it! I'm sick of being kept in the dark! I hate you!"

"Beth!" He'd called out to me.

Evansville, WI

Present day

"Beth!" Dean's voice brought me back into myself. "Hey, earth to Beth, you in there?" He asked, turning around from the driver's seat to look at me.

"Huh?" I asked, looking up from the window.

"We're here. Let's go sleepyhead." I nodded and got out of the car. It was dark, misty, and the house we were in front of should have been condemned years ago it was so dilapidated. I gazed around at us, shrubs dotted the landscape, old sheds were falling down either side of the house. Lots of hiding places for our prey.

Sam was talking to Dean. "What have you got those amped up to?" He asked, leaning over the trunk as they pulled out a couple of tasers.

"A hundred thousand volts." Dean answered.

"Damn." Sam breathed.

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra frickin' crispy." Dean said, checking the voltage on another taser, he looked up at me and tossed it to me. "Remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count." We nodded.

The basement was dark and dank, water dripped from the overhead pipes and it smelled of mould and mildew. Dean led the way down the basement stairs, lighting the way with his flashlight, holding his taser in out with his other hand. Sam followed, with me bringing up the rear.

The house had been abandoned for a long time, old wooden furniture lay around rotting. A rat scampered past my food and I grimaced, swinging around when a noise came from a cupboard behind me. Dean was creeping toward it, light and gun in front of him, a concentrating look on his face – he was completely focused.

He looked at me. "On three." He whispered. "One... two... three!" Dean swung the door open and I pointed my taser and light forward, freezing when I heard a shriek. The young boy and girl who had been missing were crouched inside, covering their ears, they looked terrified.

I moved forward to crouch in front of them, checking them over. They looked scared, but unharmed.

"Is it still here?" Sam whispered from behind me, the children nodded.

"OK." Dean said. "Let's get them out of here." I nodded, pulling the children to their feet and holding the boy's hand.

"Come on, let's go." I said, ushering them through the room toward the stairs.

Sam was following me up the stairs and suddenly the creature reached out from under the stairs, tripping him – his taser went flying across the room as he fell. The children screamed and I rushed to the top of the stairs with them, pushing them ahead of me.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, moving back to get around the stairs, looking for his target. I hesitated at the top of the stairs, looking back. Dean shot his taser at the creature as it moved but he missed, the taser hitting the wall, sparks flying.

"Beth! Get 'em outta here!" Dean said, helping Sam to his feet. Sam fled further into the room, looking for his taser.

I nodded at Dean. "Here, take this!" I called out, tossing him my taser. He caught it and smiled, I turned to get the kids outside.

There were the sounds of movement as the boys went back on the hunt. Suddenly, half way to the door I heard Sam yell out.

"Dean!" I looked back, hesitating, before I ushered the kids to the door.

"Quick, go get in the car and stay there!" I ordered, running back into the house and down the basement stairs.

It was deathly quiet, I flashed my torch around and saw the smoking remains of the rawhead on the floor. I looked around urgently to see Dean, lying in a pool of water. Sam was cradling his head, shaking his brother.

"Dean," I whispered, rushing to his side. He wasn't moving, limp in Sam's arms. Sam was holding his face.

"Dean, hey. Hey!" Sam said. I reached for my phone and put in the call to 911... eyes closed as I prayed.

"Yeah... yeah... I need an ambulance right away." I said... eyes meeting Sam's, he was terrified.

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years earlier

I paced the room a little while, angry, tears in my eyes. Why did he treat me like I was ten years old? Grabbing another jacket out of my closet, I crossed to the window and opened it, contemplating the angle of the roof that would lead me down to the ground. It was icy, but I could make it.

That's when I felt it. Just a little brush across my cheek at first. Then more like a tendril curling in my hair, something tickled my ear. I brushed at it, pulling myself up on to the window sill.

Suddenly, everything went black.

I came to, looking at myself in the mirror. I was applying lipstick to my lips and sending kisses at my reflection. Only I wasn't doing that. I frowned, the face I was looking at, my face, didn't move though, only to smile.

'Hello, dearie'. A voice sounded in my head. I looked around startled, but my body wouldn't move.

'You won't be able to move, sorry love. I'm afraid your body belongs to me now'. Said the voice.

OK. I was clearly going mad now.

Then I felt it, the presence, the sheer evil, a rising darkness as it overwhelmed me. I saw images of fire, and flesh, and rotting carcasses flash before my eyes. Creatures rose before me and laughed as others screamed in agony. I watched in horror, closing my eyes but the images still burned. And then she turned to me, a smile playing on her lips as she came and kissed me, a blackness passing into my mouth as I gasped, unable to breathe, being consumed by this woman... this thing.

I watched, as if I wasn't even in my body, as if I was standing outside of it – I moved with a certain elegance that belied my age. Looking in the mirror my eyes suddenly faded to black pits. I gasped. What are you? I thought. 'Your worst nightmare.' came the reply.

She, I... we were moving down the stairs. My father had gone into the kitchen and was making himself a cup of tea. He heard me come into the room behind him, and turned, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Beth." He started, "I'm - ..." He froze, looking at my eyes, his skin going a shade paler.

"Get out of my daughter." He demanded.

I...she laughed. It was surreal hearing my own laughter come out of my voice when all I wanted to do was scream. I was screaming, but it was all inside my head, no one could hear me.

"How did you...?" He started to ask, and I lifted an amulet, one he'd give me years ago and held it out, looking at it.

"Seems Lizzie never really liked this ugly old thing." She said with my voice.

My father turned a steely gaze to me.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Oh Patrick... don't you remember me?" I could see my body moving with mannerisms I'd never used before. The way she tilted my head, smirked, and put her hand on her hip. It was truly another entity inhabiting my body. She moved up to my father, just a fraction of space between them as she hovered my lips over his. "I'm disappointed." She whispered.

His eyes widened and he looked at me in shock. "Rhuddem?" He asked.

"Bingo..." She smiled, stepping back to look him over. "I've been waiting a long, long time for this Patrick."

UW Hospital, Madison, WI
Present Day

"Patrick..." Sam was saying beside me. "Patrick Burkovitz..." His voice started me out of my thoughts. I looked up, he was filling out the hospital admittance form for Dean.

"I'm so sorry to ask." The receptionist said, looking sympathetic – I'd been staring at my hands on the counter, a world away. "There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file."

"Right. Uh, ok." I said, flustered. I opened my wallet and removed the credit card I had there. It was new, and had something like a $20,000 credit limit on it. I handed it to her, numb, worried.

She glanced at the card, smiling back at me. "Ok, Mrs Burkovitz." I nodded.

Sam squeezed my shoulder and walked over to two police officers nearby, I blindly followed and he put his arm around me, holding me steady. I leaned into his side, closing my eyes for a moment.

"Look, we can finish this up later," One of the officers said.

"No," Sam said glancing at me, then back up at them. "No, it's ok. We were just taking a shortcut through the neighbourhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in." He explained, I nodded agreement.

"And you found the kids in the basement?" The other officer asked.

"Yeah." Sam answered with a nod.

"Well, thank God you did." The first officer said, smiling.

I spotted the doctor walking toward us and pulled away. "Excuse me." I muttered, walking toward her. Sam made to go with me, making his own excuses.

"Sure. Thanks for your help."

I found I couldn't talk, I didn't know how to ask the question. Sam came up behind me and looked at the doctor.

"Hey, Doc. Is he..." He trailed off, also having trouble with the question.

"He's resting." The doctor said.

"And?" I asked, looking up at him.

The doctor looked grim, glancing first at Sam, then me. "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart... it's damaged."

"How damaged?" Sam asked, putting his arm around my shoulder, I leaned into him, feeling nauseous.

"We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month." The doctor said, point-blank.

I felt light-headed and held on to Sam, he frowned, glancing at me then back at the doctor.

"No, no. There's, there's... gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment." Sam said, shaking his head, tears in his eyes.

"We can't work miracles. I really am sorry." The doctor said apologetically.

I felt my legs start to give and I staggered over to a chair, Sam sitting next to me quickly.

"Beth, hey are you ok?" He asked, looking upset, worried.

"No... no I'm really not ok, Sam." I said, my breathing coming harder, I found myself gasping for breath, in the back of my mind I registered that I was probably about to have a panic attack, I reached for the arm of the chair, gasping for air.

"Hey... hey... deep breaths ok. Just breathe." Sam was saying. He was breathing with me, looking pale as well. I gripped his hand and nodded, deliberately slowing down my breathing, looking into his eyes with sorrow.

"We're gonna get him some help Beth, we'll call every contact in Dad's journal, everyone we know. There's got to be something we can do, I won't stop until we find it, Beth, are you hearing me?" Sam asked.

I nodded, pulling my wits around me. That's right, we had contacts. Someone would know what to do. "Ok..." I agreed. "Ok."

Dean was sitting on the bed watching TV when we came into the room. He was pale with dark circles under his beautiful hazel eyes. He didn't look at us as we entered the room.

"You ever actually watched daytime TV?" He asked randomly as I pulled up a chair beside him. "It's terrible." He said, looking over at me with a half-attempted smile.

Sam shook his head and sighed. "We talked to your doctor."

Dean ignored him and looked at me. "That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down." He quipped with a smirk.

"Dean." I said, reaching forward and taking his hand in mine. He sighed and clicked the TV off.

"Yeah. All right." He said resignedly, looking up at Sam. "Well, looks like you're both gonna leave town without me."

"What? What are you talking about? I'm not going to leave you here!" I said, frowning.

Dean looked at Sam then, a seriousness settling over him. "You better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass."

"I don't think that's funny." Sam said, frowning, looking at me.

"Oh come on, it's a little funny." Dean joked. We fell silent. Sam looked down, fighting tears. I couldn't even think, I was numb. My hand trembled a bit as I clasped at Dean's, he looked down and then up at me.

"Hey, Bethie, come on. It'll be ok." He whispered to me. I shook my head.

"It's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story." He said, putting on a brave face, but I looked in his eyes, and that's not what I saw there. I saw sadness, pain. He blinked and looked up at Sam.

"Don't talk like that, all right? We still have options." I said quietly.

"What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it." He said. I shook my head, tears threatening to spill over. I sniffed and stood up, rushing out the door, I had to get out. I couldn't do this.

I stumbled down the hospital corridor, my eyes looking at the different signs, seeking. Suddenly it was in front of me. Chapel the sign read. I pushed open the door with a sigh, and entered. It was quiet, dark, lit up only by a few artificial candles on the altar, and the stained glass window behind it. I sank into a pew, falling to my knees. Clasping my hands before me, tucking them under my chin, I started to waver... just a little... waver in my faith, in my belief that we were being watched over, guided, protected.

But faith isn't only for the good times, my father had taught me that, I would not abandon it now. Slipping my rosary from around my neck, I started the prayer rounds, the words falling easily from my lips, I knew them so well. I put my heart into them, a true prayer, not just lip service. I leaned my head forward, feeling the cool, hard wood of the railing in front of me, it was sturdy, reassuring, comforting. I hung my hands over the railing and sat like this, letting the cold from the railing seep into my head as I rolled the beads through my fingers, still praying, praying for a miracle.

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years ago

My father moved suddenly, before this new entity – Rhuddem. He ran out the side of the kitchen into adjoining dining room. Rhuddem laughed, and followed at a more leisurely pace. I watched as my father crossed the dining room into the study. He was searching for something in his cabinet.

"It's not there." She said. He turned to look at her. She smirked, drawing a knife from behind her back. She looked at it, smiling, pricking my finger with the tip. Blood started to well at the tip and she put it in her mouth, sucking at it.

"Your daughter has a nice taste." She said, goading my father. He was inching back from her, a guarded look on his face.

"Now..." She said, looking at him with an unsmiling face. "Where is he?" She asked.

"Where is who?" My father asked, frowning at her.

"Oh you know who I'm talking about Patrick O'Malley. I heard you talking to him last night..." She looked down, running a finger along the blade, opening a fresh cut – she hissed, the cut seemed to burn, but the look on my father's face was more her focus.

"I have no idea where he is." My father said.

"Liar!" She hissed and entered the room a little further. My father was eyeing something off on the ceiling but she was arrogant, she didn't look up.

"Get out of my daughter, and maybe I will talk." He said, moving around the desk he'd been standing behind.

"Oh I don't think so... I rather like her. She's also the only leverage I have on you, Preacher. You have something I want, and I have something you want. It's a fair trade, Patrick." She gave him a smug look.

She paused, as if looking deep within, her black eyes – my black eyes, rolled back into her head as she grinned. I felt a cold touch inside my mind, like someone had left the window open and a draft had blown in. I fought it off, willing it to go away, but it was stronger than me, so much stronger.

"Well, now, that is interesting." Rhuddem said thoughtfully, looking at my father. "Does she know?" She asked. "Does she know about her heritage... her potential?" She looked at my father, amused. He stopped moving, stony silence.

"Of course she doesn't." Rhuddem laughed. "Oh now, that is very, very interesting indeed."

"You leave her alone." My father muttered, angry. He had reached for a book, and flipped it open. He suddenly started reading in Latin, I felt a pull on my mind, a fury as she howled. She reached out a hand toward him, and a pulse went out from me. It flung the book from his hands against the wall.

He stood, and resumed what he was saying, reciting it from memory.

"No! No!" Rhuddem screamed at him and she advanced into the room, as she did, she reached out with some unseen force and she pulled him to us... to me... he was propelled into my outstretched hand and I felt a sickening thud as he came into contact with me. I looked down, the knife I'd been holding was now buried to the hilt in his abdomen. Hot, red blood flowed from the wound down my hands and I laughed. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't control it – I was her slave, completely at her control. Inside I felt myself scream, and keep screaming, but outside I was laughing.

My father fell to his knees, he looked up at me, a smile on his face.

"You wanted him, you'll see him soon enough, witch!" He spluttered, blood coming out his mouth. "I love you Beth..I'm sorry." He said, falling down to the floor. I watched, unable to move, as the light went out of his eyes and he was gone. I screamed, but the sound just echoed in my own head. I turned around, looking about the room. My eyes were not my own. Then my gaze turned upward as I couldn't take more than a few steps. There was a symbol on the ceiling drawn in a big red circle. I didn't recognise it, but my possessor did... and there was a moment of fleeting fear that ran through me.

"Nooooo!" She yelled.

UW Hospital, Madison
Present Day

John's voice sounded on the phone. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help."

I fought back tears and spoke into the phone. "Dad... it's Beth. Uh... god I hope you get this. It's Dean. He's been injured, and uh... the doctors say there's nothing they can do." I paused, sniffing back tears. "Um, but, they don't know the things we know right? So... we're gonna do whatever it takes to get him better, me and Sam. I just, I really wanted to hear your voice, I need you tell me it's gonna be ok Dad... ok. I gotta go. Bye."

I hung up the phone and stared at it a while. It had been three days since I'd walked out of Dean's room. Dean was being the same frustrating pain in the ass he always was when he was scared, and while I spent as much time with him as I could bare – we both got to a breaking point which neither of us was ready to talk about yet. So I'd leave, and I always found myself right back here, in the chapel, surrounded by the quiet serenity of prayer, of faith.

It was dark out now, the little chapel was abandoned, except for me. No one seemed to pray anymore. The day had fallen to night, the stained glass just a mass of blackness, holding out the cold night air. A janitor had come in to turn on some more artificial candles around the room, lighting it up a little so that you could see just enough to get around – how I wanted to light real candles, but it was against hospital regulations, no open flames.

I moved to the statue of Jesus by the wall, and sat in front of it. I allowed myself a moment to breathe, just breathe. In and out, in and out, fighting the rising panic.

Someone came into the room, he sat beside me with a sigh.

"Thought I'd find you here." Sam said. I nodded.

"Joshua called. He thinks he knows a man who can help us. A faith healer, the real deal." I looked at Sam. He looked tired, drawn, and every bit as freaked out as I was. But there was something underneath it all, a quiet knowing, a determination. Stubborn. Just like his father.

"Really?" I asked, hopeful.

"Yeah. Yeah, so chin up. We're gonna find a way Beth." He promised.

Someone cleared their throat behind us, entering the chapel.

"Well, isn't this cozy." Dean said sarcastically, I spun around to see him leaning in the doorway. He was fully dressed, the dark circles under his eyes really standing out with the black hoodie he was wearing.

"Dean, what the hell?" I asked, getting up and moving over to him. "What are you doing?"

"I checked myself out." He declared, winking and pushing further into the chapel, leaning on the back of a pew and turning to look at us.

"What, are you crazy?" Sam asked, coming around to his other side.

"Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot." He quipped, looking at me. I sighed and rolled my eyes. He shrugged at Sam. Sam chuckled and took Dean by the arm, helping him to a seat.

"You know this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing?" Sam said. "It's crap. I can see right through it."

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? The pair of you look worse than me." He said, looking over at me. I self-consciously ran my hands through my hair. I hadn't looked in a mirror in days, I probably looked a mess.

Sam sat down in another pew and looked at Dean. "I've been scouring the internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"For a way to help you." I said, looking at him. He looked sceptical.

"One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back." Sam said. "Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean whined.

"We're not going to let you die, period." I said, kneeling in front of him. I put my hands on his knees and his eyes warmed as he looked at me. He reached out a hand to brush his fingers down my cheek, I closed my eyes, treasuring the touch.

"Beth..." He said softly. "We have to talk about this sometime."

I shook my head, looking up at him resolutely. "We're going." I said, obstinate.

Nebraska

I pulled the car along a bumpy dirt road which led down to a large white circus tent, set up in a field. There were people making their way to the tent, treading carefully across the muddy ground. I pulled up and look out the windshield at the people going into the tent. It was overcast and bleak, everything a dreary grey, but I felt my heart leap with a little hope.

Sam got out and opened the door for Dean, who stuck his head out and looked around. His eyes fell on the sign near the tent, it read: The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith healer. Witness the Miracle. I saw him grimace as he read it, but he still pulled himself out of the car, pushing Sam's feeble attempts to help away.

"I got it." Dean said angrily, pushing Sam away from him.

"Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor." He glared at Sam.

"I believe I said a specialist." Sam answered with a smirk.

"Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal." I said, coming around to look at him.

Dean just looked at me, shaking his head. "I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

An elderly woman walked past at that moment, hearing his comment. She looked at Dean and shook her umbrella. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man!" She declared before moving on.

"Yeah, that's nice." Dean grumbled, I hooked my arm through his and supported him a little, starting to move him toward the tent.

We walked past a man who was arguing with a security guard.

"I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money!" He was saying.

"Sir, this is a place of worship. Let's go. Move it." The guard escorted the man away as we watched.

"I take he's not part of the flock?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"When people see something they can't explain, there's always controversy." Sam said.

"Awww come on, Sam, a faith healer?" Dean whined.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean." I said crossly.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on." He answered, shaking his head at me. "Not putting my faith in something that I can't even see." I stared at him, we always clashed over this subject.

"But we do see them, Dean. How can you be a sceptic? With all the things we see everyday?" Sam asked, flashing me a sympathetic look.

I started pulling Dean toward the tent again, small steps at a time.

"Exactly." Dean said. "We see them, we know they're real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there too?" I asked.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people." Dean said, stopping. I sighed. He was going to fight this all the way, well, that was ok, because I could be just as stubborn as he was.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." A voice said from behind us.

A young woman who had been walking behind us rounded the three of us who were now standing near the door debating. She was holding an umbrella against the drizzle that was coming down, protecting her long blond hair from the rain. Dean eyed the young woman off with an appreciative look. "Maybe he does." He said smiling, she flashed him a smile back. "I think you just turned me around on the subject." He added. I rolled my eyes, incorrigible to the end too.

"Yeah, I'm sure." The woman laughed.

"I'm Dean," Dean said, holding out his hand. "This is Sam, and Beth."

"Layla," She said, taking his hand and introducing herself. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

Dean sighed, looking at me, and then Sam. "Apparently these two believe enough for all of us." He answered, smiling gently at me. I knew he didn't believe like I did, thought I was foolish for believing. But maybe this was also his way of humouring me, and in his mind maybe he thought it would help me come to terms with his death. I was hoping that a miracle might happen when he wasn't looking.

"Come on, Layla. It's about to start." An older woman came up and put her arm around Layla as they moved past us with a smile. I pulled on Dean's arm and he allowed me to lead him into the tent.

"Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways Sam." Dean said, nodding at Layla. I pinched him and he yelped, frowning weakly at me before smiling and placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Come on." I said with a half-smile, leading him inside.

The tent was packed with people from all walks of life: different ethnicities, poor and wealthy, the sickly, the aged, the young and the in between. I pushed Dean ahead of me, steering him toward the front. He tilted his head toward a security camera in the corner of the tent and leaned back into me to whisper. "Yeah, peace, love and trust all over." I snorted and gestured for him to keep moving.

Sam looked at the security camera and shrugged. Dean tried to take a seat near the back, but I gave him a little shove, sending Sam a look that made him frown. He put his arm around Dean and guided him further into the tent.

"Come on." He said.

"Don't! What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking back. "Let's sit here."

"We're sitting up the front." I said, hands firmly on his back while Sam pulled him. Seriously, I thought, you'd think we were dragging him to see a the making of the Titanic on the big screen.

"What? Why?" Dean asked, struggling a little with us.

"Come on." Sam said, moving him up the aisle.

"Oh come on guys." Dean growled. He stumbled a little and Sam reached for him.

"You all right?" Sam asked, looking concerned.

"This is ridiculous!" Dean said, slapping Sam's hand away. He straightened up and sighed. "I'm good dude, get off me." He didn't say anything about my hand at his back so I left it there.

"Let's go." I said, pointing to three empty seats behind Layla and the woman with her.

"Perfect." Sam said and went in first. Dean tried sneak in after him, but I stopped him, putting a hand on his arm. He looked at me questioning, and I shook my head.

"You take the aisle." I instructed, and he rolled his eyes at me.

"Seriously?" He asked, shaking his head. I squeezed past him and sat next to Sam, motioning with my eyes to Dean that he needed to sit the hell down before I kicked his ass. He sank into the chair next to me with a sigh.

"You know, you and me, we need to have a serious talk when this is all over, start facing reality." He whispered fiercely at me. "You gotta get a grip!"

"I'm doing this for you, shut up!" I whispered back, looking him in the eyes. He rolled his eyes and looked up at the stage.

"Whatever." He muttered, earning a glare from me and a snort from Sam.

The tent fell silent as a blind man wearing sunglasses came up to the stage. He was helped to the lectern by a woman.

"Each morning." The man started, "My wife Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" The crowd agreed with him, some people shouting out. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

I allowed my eyes to roam over the crowded room, taking in faces, objects... I took particular notice of the altar that was set up on stage. I saw many altars when I went to different churches, different religious areas. They always, always said something about the people who were setting them up. This one was very simple, a couple of religious books, and an old wooden cross, it was topped by a smaller cross in a circle. I gazed at it curiously, it looked familiar, but I couldn't remember why.

"But I say to you, God is watching." Roy said, to the murmurs of the crowd.

"Yes he is!" A woman next to me called out.

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt!" Roy stated to more cheering and murmuring, everyone around me was nodding in agreement. I glanced at Sam and he shrugged.

"It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." Roy continued, he looked genuinely caring, smiling as he talked, a gentle compassionate look on his face.

"Yeah, and into their wallets." Dean said quietly to me.

"You think so, young man?" Roy said, looking directly at Dean with his blind eyes.

The crowd fell silent, eyes turning to us. Dean shifted uncomfortably under the attention.

"Sorry." He said sheepishly.

"No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." Roy said, earning some laughter from the crowd.

"What's your name son?" Roy asked.

Dean hesitated, and then cleared his throat. "Dean." He answered.

"Dean." Roy repeated, nodding to himself. "I want – I want you to come up here with me."

The crowd started clapping and a few cheers went up. I noticed Layla and the woman with her stiffen, they weren't happy.

Sue Ann moved to the centre of the stage, waving Dean up, smiling.

Dean shook his head. "No, it's ok." He declined. I glared at him.

"What are you doing?!" I asked urgently.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't ya?" Roy asked patiently, he was moving his head around listening for a response.

Dean hesitated. "Well, yeah, but ahhhh... maybe you should just pick someone else." Sam and I exchanged glances, I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest it was beating so fast. The crowd started clapping loudly around us and it felt like thunder, I felt my self-control starting to slip.

"Oh no. I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did." Roy said, nodding.

The crowd started to get more excited, calling out agreement, encouraging Dean to get up on stage.

"Get up there!" I said, giving him a shove. "Dammit Dean!"

Dean looked at me and reluctantly stood up, moving to the stage. I grabbed Sam's hand and he squeezed it, flashing me an excited smile. Please God, let this be real. Sue Ann moved to assist, standing next to Roy.

"You ready?" Roy asked, expectantly.

"Look, no disrespect, but ahhh, I'm not exactly a believer." He confessed, looking around the room.

Roy just smiled at him. "You will be, son. You will be."

"Pray with me friends." Roy said and everyone in the crowd stood with their hands in the air, many of them joining hands together. Dean was looking uncomfortable, eyes moving around the room.

Roy lifted his hands in the air, and after a few moments placed one hand on Dean's shoulder. I held my breath, not knowing what was going to happen, but praying for a miracle just the same. Roy moved his hand to the side of Dean's head, resting it there. Dean looked at me, a strange look in his eyes, resigned, but maybe a glimmer of hope.

"All right now. All right now." Roy muttered, mostly to himself, I could barely hear it, wouldn't have if the room hadn't been completely silent at this stage, waiting.

Dean blinked a few times, looking dizzy, then he fell to his knees. Sam's hand released mine and he looked at Dean concerned. I was moving into the aisle, but Sam grabbed my arm, shaking his head. Dean was wavering, kneeling before Roy, who still had his hand on Dean's head.

"All right then." Roy said.

Dean blinked, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he fell to the ground. Now I was moving, straight for him.

"Dean!" I ran up to the stage, Sam right behind me. The crowd started clapping behind us but I only had eyes for the man on the floor. I reached him, heart racing and grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him up slightly. "Dean!"

Dean's eyes burst open at that moment and he gasped, grabbing my arm. "Say something!" Sam said from behind me, moving in to support Dean by his shoulders. Dean looked groggy, finding it hard to focus on the people around him, and then his eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder at Roy. I glanced back but all I could see was the preacher, standing above us, his hands still raised in the air with a smile on his face.

"Dean, are you ok?" I asked, he still hadn't spoken. He looked at me, eyes focusing, and he smiled.

"Hey, there you are..." He said, as if seeing me for the first time. I gingerly touched his face, it might have been my imagination but it looked like the colour was returning to his face.

"Are you ok?" Sam asked, repeating my question.

"Yeah... yeah. Get me up." Dean said, and Sam helped him get to his feet. We looked around and the entire tent was clapping and cheering for Dean. I found myself gazing at the cross on the altar, silently praying that it had worked, that we'd found the miracle we were looking for.

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years ago

I felt raw. The screaming inside my head was my own, and it echoed like a big empty hall. I don't know how long I'd been trapped, 'we' had been pacing for hours, back and forth between the boundaries of the circle that was drawn on the roof, but I don't think it had been that long. For some reason 'we' couldn't move beyond it. My father's body had fallen out of the circle, the knife still stuck in him, she couldn't reach him and this seemed to be enraging her even more. She paced like a wild tiger inside a barred cage.

I found myself withdrawing further and further within, the sharpness of my perception getting misty and faded as I tried to shut out what was happening to me. When 'we' heard the doors slam from a car outside, I felt a stab of panic wash over me, and then it was replaced with the darkness, the fire that burned inside of her. She stilled herself, watching the door, waiting.

There was the sound of the front door being opened, and two men entered, guns drawn. An older man who 'we' recognised, and I realised that I knew of him because of her. He was the reason she'd been sent here, besides a personal grudge she'd had against my father. The man was tall, unshaven by a few days with a dark stubble over a square jawline. Short brown hair, piercing dark eyes. He was all business.

The younger man with him looked to be barely older than me, same jawline as the older man, but with brown spikey hair that was mussed up, haunting hazel eyes looked back at me as they entered the room, gun drawn.

"You're too late John." Said Rhuddem.

The older man stepped forward, steely eyes coming to meet mine. His eyes flicked to the ceiling and the painting that was keeping her – me – trapped. He inclined his head, a glint to his eye. "Get out of the girl." He said.

"No, I don't think so," She said to him. "I know a few people down below that would like to get a hold of this pretty little thing... now we know about her."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen." He said, calmly, assuredly.

"Heh! You can't hold me here forever." She snarled. The man just looked at me, unfazed.

The younger boy stood to attention at John's voice. "Get the journal." The boy, disappeared out the front door.

John's eyes narrowed, watching me with discernment. He moved around the circle, coming to my father's body, and knelt down to inspect him. He pulled the knife out of my father, it was covered in blood. I – she smirked at him.

"Go ahead John." Rhuddem said. "Use it." She went up to the edge of the circle, raising her arms, baring her – my – body in an easy target.

John assessed my possessor, holding the knife and turning it over in his hands. The boy returned, handing an old leather-bound journal to the man, who flipped through it to a page.

"Time to meet your maker, demon." John said, looking at me. I felt my head tilt in amusement, until he started reading something in Latin.

"Regna terrae...cantate Deo, psallite Domino—qui fertis ascendit, super caelum..."

I felt a tug, like something hooked into the being inside of me, and she struggled to hold on.

"You're leaving her one way or the other." John said, looking at her, pausing. "Now why are you here?"

"That's above your pay grade John Winchester." She spat at him.

"...caeli ad Orientem. Ecce dabit..." John was reading, speaking quickly.

The demon – which is what it had been called – tried to hold on. She screamed in anger at them, and the boy stared in shock at me. Suddenly, she bit my arm, laughing and moaning at the same time. Blood pooled in the wound, and she caught some of it in my other hand. She glared at John, daring him to come closer.

"You better kill her, John. Because pretty soon all of Hell is going to know about her, and they'll be coming." Rhuddem looked amused, and then started to speak into the blood, saying a chant in a language I didn't recognise.

John's eyes widened, and he started to read faster from the journal. "... voci suae vocum virtutis tribuite virtutem deo" Suddenly I felt a wave of light wash over me, and she was torn from my body in a scream.

I felt myself falling, slipping to the ground when someone caught me, strong arms encircled me and guided me to the ground, my head resting on his arm. I looked up and saw that the young man had caught me.

"Hey..." He said gently, looking at me with concern. I had just enough presence of mind to notice those hazel eyes... before the darkness claimed me and I passed out.

Nebraska
Present Day.

Sam was walking around the room excited, looking at his brother. Dean looked so much better than he had – his skin had regained it's colour, the dark circles under his eyes were gone, he could breathe better, and he was walking without needing assistance. He sat on the edge of the examination table in the doctor's office looking troubled and unhappy, staring at the floor. Sam missed this and continued his excited chatter.

"So you really feel ok?" Sam asked, once more.

"I feel fine, Sam." Dean replied, not looking up until the doctor came into the room.

She entered in her white doctor's coat, carrying paperwork, and walked up to Dean who didn't move.

"Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was." She said. Dean looked up at her in surprise, glancing over at me. "Not that a man your age should be having heart troubles," She said, glancing at the paperwork again. "But, still it's strange, it does happen."

"What do you mean, strange?" Dean asked, suspicious.

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack." She said crossing her arms in front of her and frowning.

Dean looked troubled at this and looked down at his hands. "Thanks Doc." He said quietly.

"No problem." She said, smiling and leaving.

"That's odd." Dean said when she was gone, looking over at Sam.

"Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, man." Sam said, excusing the story.

"No, they don't." Dean said.

Sam looked frustrated, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?" He asked.

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why." Dean replied standing up to face Sam.

"What feeling?" I asked, stepping up to them both and resting my hand on Dean's arm.

Dean looked down at me, then turned to gather his jacket off the bench.

"When I was healed, I just... I felt wrong. I felt cold." He shrugged into his jacket and turned to look at us. "And for a second... I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you guys, it was a spirit." I frowned, Dean looked really upset by this, it was clearly troubling him.

"But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam said, brushing off his comment.

Dean looked angry. "Well, excuse me, psychic wonder." He said, sighing. "But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. I've been hunting long enough not to trust a feeling like this."

I nodded, looking at him. "So what do you want to do?" I asked.

"I want Sam to go check out the heart attack guy. You and I are going to visit the Rev." He answered.

Roy LeGrange's House

We were sitting on the couch opposite the Reverend while Sue Ann was filling up glasses of iced tea. Everyone looked relaxed, except for Dean, who was fidgeting in his seat. I gave him a questioningly look and he frowned at me before settling down. His hand grasped mine. I smiled at Sue Ann, and looked over at the Reverend.

"I just... I just can't put into words how grateful I am..." I started. "That you were able to help Dean." I said, squeezing his hand. Sue Ann and Roy both smiled.

"I feel great." Dean added. "Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened." He said, honestly.

"A miracle is what happened. Well, miracles come so often around Roy." Sue Ann answered, smiling. Dean nodded at her, then looked at Roy.

"When did they start? The miracles?" He asked.

Roy looked in our direction. "Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'" He paused to smile in his wife's direction. "I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone."

He reached up to remove his sunglasses, his eyes were faded and there was no recognition of anything behind them. "If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it." He said smiling.

"And suddenly you could heal people?" I asked.

"I discovered it afterward, yes. God's blessed me in many ways." Roy said, nodding, putting his sunglasses back on.

"And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning." Sue Ann said proudly.

"Can I ask you one last question?" Dean asked, looking curious.

"Of course you can." Roy said.

Dean licked his lips, glancing at me, and then at the reverend. "Why? Why me?" He asked. "Out of all the sick people, why save me?" There was a disbelief to his voice, one that said he didn't believe he deserved to be saved, that he wasn't worthy. I looked down at his hand in mine and bit my lip.

"Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest." Roy answered.

"What did you see in my heart?" Dean asked.

Roy didn't hesitate. "A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished."

Dean looked at me surprised, and I gave him an encouraging smile, nodding. While Dean didn't believe he was important, it was clear as day that he had a destiny, a purpose, and was being shown this.

We ran into Layla as we were leaving, she and her mother were coming in.

"Dean, Beth, hey." Layla said, smiling.

"Hey." Dean answered, nodding. I smiled at her.

"How you feeling?" She asked.

"I feel good. Cured, I guess." Dean answered with a shrug. "What are you doing here?"

"You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend." Layla answered, looking back at her mother who was coming up behind her.

Sue Ann came out on to the porch, and saw Layla. She stopped forward. "Layla?"

Layla turned to Sue Ann and smiled. "Yes, I'm here again." She said softly. Sue Ann took her hands and looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now." Sue Ann said.

Layla's mother stepped up on to the porch. "Sue Ann please. This is our sixth time, he's got to see us." She said frustrated.

"Roy is well aware of Layla's situation. And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs Rourke." Sue Ann answered, patting Layla on the shoulder tenderly and turning to go back inside the house.

Dean and I hadn't moved, watching this exchange with interest. Mrs Rourke turned and saw us. She frowned at Dean. "Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted." She uttered at him.

"Mom. Stop." Layla said.

She turned a troubled look to her daughter. "No, Layla, this is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe." She looked Dean in the eye. "I just can't pray any harder." She said.

"Layla, what's wrong?" I asked. Layla sighed, hesitating. "I have this thing..."

"It's a brain tumour. It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say..." Mrs Rourke couldn't finish her sentence, choking on emotion. Layla put her hand on her mother's shoulder, comforting.

"I'm sorry." Dean said.

"It's ok." Layla replied with a smile.

"No. It isn't." Mrs Rourke said, staring into her daughter's eyes. She looked sharply at Dean. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?" She said in a harsh tone before walking away. Layla took a shaky breath and then followed her down the stairs.

I looked at Dean, at a loss for words. He looked at Layla, and then the house thoughtfully before turning back to me, pulling me into a hug, resting his chin on my head.

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years ago

When I woke up, I was on the couch in the study, the first thing I saw was my father's body. "No..." I crawled toward him. "Noooo!" I reached him, touching his cold body, his blood-spattered face. "Dad..." Tears fell as I cradled his head in my lap, all the screams and the sorrow that I hadn't been able to express when she was in me came in waves now. I couldn't stop screaming, stop sobbing.

Then I felt strong hands take me by the shoulders, lifting me into his arms as I sobbed. John. He carried me into the living room, putting me on the couch. He crouched in front of me, holding my face in his hands gently.

"Elizabeth." He said, and I looked at him – not really seeing him, but knowing he was there. "It's going to be all right. We're going to help." He promised, and I nodded. "My name is John, and I'm a friend of your father's. He called me here, when he knew it was coming for him. He called me here for you, Elizabeth. To protect you." He looked conflicted and grieved, like he'd just lost an old friend.

I looked at him, not understanding. I shook my head. "I don't understand."

"You will, in time." He said gently. "Right now, we need to see to your father. Will you be ok here? Just for a little bit." I looked at him, nodding numbly. He moved away from me, and I looked at my hands. It hit me all of a sudden, they were covered in blood – my father's blood, my blood – I felt the bile rising in my throat. I ran for the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to throw up.

I was scrubbing furiously at my hands with a nail brush, trying to get all the blood off. Tears fell as I tried to process what was happening. What was going to happen to me now... my family was dead. I rubbed them raw, they were so bloody. Hot, hot water almost scorched them, I didn't care, I couldn't get it all out, I had to scrub them... they were so bloody, they were red...

A hand reached out from beside me and gently took my hands in his, pulling them away from the water. The other hand turned the tap off and I stood there, gasping, trying to understand. I looked up and my eyes met his hazel orbs. Self-assured, but concerned. "I can't... I can't get it out." I whispered, tears threatening to fall again.

He nodded, and brought his other hand over to hold both mine. They weren't soft, like I expected, they were rough and felt real against my own soft skin. I stared at those hands holding mine as if they were a lifeline. I slowed my breathing, pushing the images of my father to the back of my mind. I didn't know these people, and yet, I trusted them. They had found me, they had saved me. I didn't even know who they were.

"Who are you?" I asked, looking up at him. He smiled, carefree, a little cocky.

"I'm Dean." He answered with a twinkle to his eye and a warm smile. I felt my heart skip a beat with that smile, I suddenly realised that my whole world was about to change.

Motel Room
Present Day

Sam was on the laptop when we got back to the motel. Dean threw the keys on the bed and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the bed. Sam glanced over at us, an apprehensive look on his face.

"What did you find out?" I asked, sitting down next to him.

Sam turned his troubled eyes to look at Dean. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

Dean looked over. "Sorry about what?"

"Marshall Hall died at 4:17." He answered.

Dean stopped, looking stunned. "The exact time I was healed."

"Yeah," Sam said. "So I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the last year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time." Sam looked resigned and sad as he handed Dean a stack of print outs from the computer.

"So, someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" I asked.

"Somehow. LeGrange... he's trading a life for another." Sam said, nodding.

"Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean said, looking angry.

Sam looked upset, struggling to find words.

"Dean, the guy probably would have died anyway. And someone else would have been healed." I said quietly.

Dean stood up, a shielded look in his eyes. "You never should have brought me here." He said to us, standing up and walking across the room.

"Dean, we were just trying to save your life." I said, standing up and turning to him.

"But, some guy is dead now because of me." Dean said loudly, the guilt clearly showing in his voice.

"We didn't know." Sam said quietly, sadly.

Dean paused, looking from Sam to me. He pursed his lips and looked down.

"The thing I don't understand, is how is Roy doing it?" Sam asked. "How's he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh he's not doing it." Dean said, starting to pace. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking up.

"The old man I saw on stage." Dean explained, shaking his head. "I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew."

"You knew what? What are you talking about?" I queried, standing up to stop him from walking around, looking him in the eye.

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that." Dean said. I raised my shoulders in a confused shrug.

"We're dealing with a reaper." Dean declared, looking at me.

Wisconsin
9 years ago

It had been three days. Three days since I'd met this strange duo. I was sitting with the youngest of the Winchester men in the living room. Sam. He was chatting to me about his latest school project. John and Dean were in my father's study, John had said something about there being some things my father had for him. I'd just waved them in there, I didn't care. Now I decided to go and see what it was they were taking.

I stopped at the door, realising John was on the phone speaking to someone.

"James." He was saying. "He's dead. We have to think of Elizabeth now. Where will she go?"

I held my breath, who was he talking to? I frowned, thinking hard, and then realised. My Uncle Jimmy lived in Illinois. But he wasn't that much older than me, maybe by ten years, the son from my grandmother's second marriage. We never saw him, my Dad and me. I didn't know anything about him.

"Well you have to, I promised Patrick, someone needs to watch over her." John was saying. I held my breath.

"James..." His voice was raised, and then he stopped talking altogether. I realised that the phone conversation had ended and it hadn't gone the way he'd been expecting.

A voice cleared behind me, and I jumped, startled. Dean stood behind me, an amused look on his face. "What ya doing?" He asked, as if he didn't already know.

"I just... I want to know what happened to me. What's going on?" I whispered. Dean frowned steering me back into the living room, a hand on my arm.

"You don't know?" He asked.

"No!" I said, crossing my arms in front of my body. "All I remember is being in my room and then... and then... that... thing was inside of me. Talking in my head. And I couldn't move! I couldn't control my own body. And then I stabbed my own father!" I withdrew, fresh tears coming into my eyes.

Dean looked at me, as if appraising what I had said. He looked conflicted, frowning at me, and then he sighed. "Better you don't know." He said, walking away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, following him into the living room. Sam looked up from the book he was reading.

"Nothin'" Dean muttered. "Shit happens, you don't want to know what's out there, trust me." He looked at me sadly, and I shook my head.

"God I'm so sick of all these bullshit secrets!" I cried out, walking out of the room leaving them behind.

I was huddled on the back step, my legs pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped around to protect me from the cold. I heard the door open and Sam stepped out on the porch, looking conflicted. His eyes were chocolate brown and soft, he had shaggy brown hair that needed a hair cut. He smiled when he saw me. He glanced back into the kitchen and then closed the door behind him. "There's a few things you should know." He said sinking down next to me.

A short while later I was sitting in stunned silence, having just learned that the world was a whole lot bigger than I had thought. I couldn't believe what Sam had just told me, about creatures in the night, about demons...

I looked at him, this young man who was so much older and wiser than his years portrayed. He'd seen a lot in his life, yet he was still so innocent, with an optimism that just shouldn't have been there for this young thirteen year old. He sat quietly, looking out over the back yard, hands shoved into the pockets against the cold. "And so... demons they can be sent back to Hell...which is what Dad did..." Sam was saying.

"Sam." John's voice sounded behind us. Sam startled a little, looking up guiltily at his father standing in the doorway.

"Sam, we talked about this." John said.

"Look, Dad. She needs to know, she's not stupid! She's just seen what's left of her family murdered – don't you think she deserves to know why?" He asked, defiantly.

"To do what with this information?" John asked, his voice very quiet.

Sam paused, and then looked at his father. "So she can use it. So she can become one of us." He said resolutely. John shook his head. I looked at my feet, it feel surreal being spoken of like I wasn't even there.

"No, no Sam," John said. "You have no idea what you're talking about, it's too dangerous."

"Shouldn't she get to be the judge of that? Come on Dad... you've seen what she knows, her dad was clearly training her, even if she doesn't know it. She's a genius at scripture!" I looked up at that comment, frowning. What was he talking about?

"We've been over this Sam!" John said angrily, and stormed off into the house.

Sam looked annoyed, standing up and kicking at the step and walking off into the back yard. I frowned, shaking my head trying to clear it. I hesitated, but followed the older man into the house. I found him in the study, leaning heavily on the desk.

"Mr Winchester..." I started.

"John." Came the fast correction.

"John." I said, smiling. "Look, I don't know why this has happened to me. How do I explain to people that I stabbed my own father? I don't have anywhere to go." I stopped, the reality of things settling in, Dean was standing in the corner looking at a book and he peered up at me when I said this, a frown creasing his brow.

John looked at me. "Just how much has Sam told you?" He asked.

"Enough to know I can't stay here. Enough that I know my world won't ever be the same." John regarded me in silence, his face not revealing anything of what he was thinking. I glanced over at Dean, he was looking at me with intrigue.

"I heard you on the phone with my uncle..." I said quietly. John's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "He doesn't want me?"

"You have to understand, your father and he weren't exactly on speaking terms." John confessed. I looked down at my hands, suddenly lost for words, fresh tears in my eyes.

"She should come with us Dad." Sam said, stepping into the room.

"You've done enough Sam..." John said angrily. Sam frowned and crossed his arm, scowling.

"I promised your father I would take care of you." John said, looking at me. I nodded, eyes widening at this revelation."But I don't even know where to start with that right now, you're only fifteen!" He said.

"Let me come with you." I asked, looking at him. He looked torn. "Please, I don't have anywhere else to go." I said.

Dean frowned, and shook his head. "What is she nuts?" He asked, John looked over at him.

"You'd be on the run all the time, skipping from school to school, it's no life for a young lady." John said, looking at me.

"My father has moved me around every year since my mother died, that's not exactly new to me." I answered with a sigh. He looked surprised at this and he seemed to consider what I'd said. Dean had come to stand next to his father.

"You can't seriously be thinking about taking her with us." He whispered to his father. I scowled at him, he glared back at me.

John looked between the two of us and then he left the room without saying anything.

Dean sighed and looked at me. "You don't want this, you don't want to come with us." He said to me. I reached over and absently touched the pendant around his neck, it was gold-toned, brass, maybe – a strange looking face with horns and large ears. He watched me with those bright hazel eyes as I brushed my thumb across it, curious. I looked up into his eyes, lost.

"Well what would you have me do?" I asked. He shrugged. I looked at the pendant again. "You know I was raised to believe in an almighty God. A Lord who loves and protects me. What I don't understand is why this is happening to me. Why do I deserve to live when my father doesn't? Why not me instead of my mother who was killed in that car crash? I just … I don't know why this is happening, and I don't know what to do..." My voice broke and I choked back a sob.

"You don't want this." Dean said to me, looking troubled, taking the pendant from my hand and brushing past me as he left the room.

Motel Room, Nebraska
Present Day

"You really think it's the Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?" Sam asked, looking at Dean across the table we were all seated at, research strewn all over the surface.

"No no no, not the reaper, a reaper." Dean said, looking up from the paper he was reading. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by a hundred different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them." Dean said.

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit." Sam said, elbow on the table and head resting in his hand. He looked sceptical.

"What, you think he should've been working the whole black robe thing?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow. "You said it yourself that the clocked stopped right? Reapers stop time."

"And you can only see a reaper when they're coming at you, which is why Dean saw it and we didn't." I said thoughtfully.

"Maybe." Sam said, glancing at me.

"There's nothing else it could be Sam." Dean said determined. "The question is, how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

We all fell silent, thinking about this. It was no easy feat to control a force of nature such as death, it would take some serious black magic.

"That cross." I said suddenly, remembering it from the altar.

"What?" Dean asked. I got up and looked through my backpack, pulling out a tarot deck and flipping through the cards.

"There was this cross, I noticed it in the church and I knew I had seen it before." I found what I was looking for with an exclamation and held it up for them to see.

The boys leaned forward to look at the card I was holding in my hand.

"A tarot?" Dean asked, taking the card from me – it was of Death, and it had the exact same cross on it that had been on the altar at Roy's.

"It makes sense. Tarot dates back to the early christian era right, when some priests were still using magic. A few of them veered into the dark stuff... necromancy, how to push death away... how to cause it." I said looking at him.

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" Dean asked.

"Well if he is, he's riding the whirlwind. It would be like putting a dog leash on a great white." Sam said grimly. Dean stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink, leaning back to look at us. "We have to stop Roy."

"How?" Sam asked.

"You know how." Dean said solemnly.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy." I said, standing up and walking over to him.

"The guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book." Dean said, giving us a look that chilled me to the bone. I frowned and glanced at Sam, shaking my head, the realisation of what he was saying setting in.

"No, we're not killing a human being Dean." Sam said looking stunned.

"We do that and we're no better than he is." I said throwing my hands in the air.

Dean paused to look at us both then sighed.

"OK. We can't kill Roy, but we can't kill death. Any bright ideas then?" He asked.

I looked at Sam and he deliberated, thinking about the question.

"OK... uh.. if Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta... figure out what it is." Sam said, shrugging.

"And how to break it." I added, biting my lip. Dean nodded.

Outside Church Tent

Dean pulled the car to a stop in the muddy field near the tent.

"If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book." I said, getting out and coming around to join Dean.

"See if you can find it," Dean said looking at his watch. "Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy." He nodded at Sam and me, and we headed toward the house, all three of us passing the protester from earlier who was handing out flyers to the people going to the tent.

"Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer." He said.

"Amen Brother." Dean said taking a flyer and walking toward the tent.

"You keep up the good work." Sam said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder, much to the man's surprise. I laughed and headed toward the house with Sam.

We hid around the side of the porch and waited as Sue Ann and another man escorted Roy down to the tent, once they were gone we crept to an open window, climbing in through it, starting to search the house. We were in the library, an old room, half covered in wooden panels, the other half in dated wallpaper. Sam was looking at the bookshelves and I was flipping through the books on the desk.

Sam pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it, shrugging. Then he looked up again and spotted something else, he reached up and pulled a smaller book out from behind where the other had been. He threw me a glance and I came to join him, there was a picture of a skeleton reaper inside the cover, and on another page we found the picture of the cross from the altar.

"Interesting." I said. Sam flipped further and a few newspaper articles fell out of the book. They were about the people who had died.

"He's picking people who he thinks are immoral... look at this, a gay teacher, abortion rights activist..." I said, reading through the articles. Sam nodded, pulling out a third clipping.

"Guess who his next victim is." He said grimly. I looked at the photo in the article, it was of the protester, Wright, outside.

Dean answered his phone on the first ring. "What have you got?" He asked.

"Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And we think we know who's next on his list, remember that protester?" I asked.

"What, the guy in the parking lot?" Dean whispered.

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, all right?" I said. He hung up on me and I looked at Sam, he was already heading for the door.

We started searching the car park as soon as we were outside. Sam took one side, and I took another. Sam ran down behind a bus, and I heard a cry.

"Help!" It was faint, I spun around looking for the direction it had come from.

I saw Sam sprint across the field to where Wright was cringing between a couple of cars. I hurried to catch them. Sam was pushing the man behind him, looking wildly at nothing. The man was terrified, pointing at something we couldn't see.

"It's right there!" He was saying. Sam pulled the man behind him and ran. My phone rang and I answered it.

"I did it, I stopped Roy." Dean's voice said on the other side. I looked at Sam and Wright, who had paused a few cars down. Suddenly Wright fell to the ground, Sam looked panicked.

"Dean, it didn't work. The reaper's still coming!" I cried, running toward Sam.

Dean argued with me. "I'm telling you, I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing, he's on the ground..." I said, breathing heavily.

"Then who the hell is?" Dean asked, and then there was a pause on the phone.

"Dean?" I asked, looking up at the tent where people were exiting enmasse.

"Sue Ann." I heard him mutter and he hung up. I ran for the tent, Wright was still on the ground, his breathing ragged and terrified, Sam stayed with him.

I ran into the tent in time to see Dean grab Sue Ann's hand, she was holding something. She looked startled, tucking what looked like an amulet into her blouse.

"Help! Help me!" She cried out, looking at him with a cold stare.

Dean backed up a step, then there were two security guards accosting him. She narrowed her eyes at us as they manhandled Dean, pushing him toward the front of the tent, I followed. Dean shook the guards off him and took my arm as we got outside, glaring at them. Sam was helping Wright to stand up. Sue Ann came out of the tent and looked at Dean.

"I just don't understand. After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very very disappointed Dean." She said looking at him with a coldness that belied the betrayal she was trying to sell to the bystanders.

Dean just stared at her with his stony silent look, I was gaping at her, unable to hide my disbelief.

"You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit." Sue Ann said, something in her eyes was resolute, fanatical.

The security guard turned to Dean."We catch you around here again son, we'll put the fear of God into you, you understand?" He said threateningly.

"Yes sir, fear of God. God it." Dean said sarcastically, flashing him a grin.

The guards gave him a push and I felt a hand grab me from beside. I turned and it was Layla, looking at us both.

"Why would you do that? It could have been my only chance." She said, looking at us not comprehending. I realised with a sadness that it had been her that Roy had called to the stage for a healing.

"He's not a healer." Dean said, looking at her.

"He healed you." She said, shaking her head.

"I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain. But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry." He said looking sad.

Layla shook her head softly, looking at me and then Dean. "Good bye Dean." She said softly, turning and walking away.

Dean looked up to the sky, sighing, putting his arm around me. I wrapped my arm around his waist, my hand on his chest as I leaned in to him. Layla turned back to look at us.

"I wish you luck. I really do." She said honestly.

Dean stiffened. "Same to you." He answered. She smiled sadly and turned to walk away again.

"She deserves it a lot more than me." He said softly to me. I look up, tears in my eyes and gently patted his chest a couple of times, frowning at him. He looked at me and smiled, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. "Come on." He whispered and pulled me toward where Sam was waiting for us.

Layla's mother was talking to Roy and Sue Ann, Sam was listening to their conversation as we walked up.

"Private session tonight, no interruptions. I give you my word, I'll heal your daughter." We heard Roy promise.

"Thank you reverend. God bless you." Mrs Rourke said. Dean frowned.

Motel

Sam was sitting on the bed looking dejected. "So Roy really believes." He said, looking at Dean who was pacing the room.

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing." Dean said, looking out the window, agitated.

"Well, we found this." Sam said, holding up the book from the study. "It was hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

"Must be a hell of a spell." I said, sitting next to him and looking at the book.

"Yeah. You gotta build a black altar with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preacher's wife...black magic, murder, evil." His voice trailed off. I took in a shaky breath, looking at Dean. I knew that kind of line, I'd struggled with it all week.

"Desperate." I said softly, looking down at my hands. The boys both looked at me. "Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy."

"Cheating death, literally." Sam said, nodding.

"Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean asked.

"To do right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral." I said.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work." He sighed.

"We gotta break that binding spell." Sam said, flipping through the book. Dean came over and looked down, Sam had the page open to the picture of the cross.

"You know, Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this. When she dropped it, the reaper backed off." Dean said.

"The amulet..." I said, Dean nodded.

"So you think we have to find the cross or destroy the altar?" Sam asked.

"Maybe both." Dean said. "Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight."

LeGrange Church

Dean shut the lights off on the Impala and rolled to a stop. He nodded at a red car by the tent.

"She's already here." Sam said.

"Yeah..." Dean said sadly.

"Dean..." I said, worriedly, putting my hand on his shoulder. He didn't resist.

"You know if Roy would have picked Layla instead of me, she'd be here right now." He said.

"Dean, don't..." Sam said.

"And if she's not healed tonight she's going to die in a couple of months." He continued, looking back at Sam, then me.

"What's happening to her is horrible," I said, choosing my words carefully. "But Dean, what can we do? Let someone else die to save her?"

"You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God." Sam added.

Dean turned to look out the window, thinking hard, he didn't look happy. After a few seconds he got out of the car, we followed. Approaching the tent from the shadows, we peeked inside. I saw Roy speaking to a group of his faithful followers, Layla and her mother among them.

"Gather around, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up." Roy said, waving his arms in the air.

"Where's Sue Ann?" I asked, looking for Roy's wife.

Sam looked around. "House." He said simply. We moved away, Dean spotted them first, the security guards from earlier, coming down the stairs of the house.

"Go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up." Dean said, pushing us into the bushes by the house.

"What? What are you..." Sam asked, interrupted by Dean calling out to the guards.

"Hey!" He looked cocky. "You gonna put that fear of God into me or what?" The guards dropped their coffees and took off after Dean who was now sprinting away among the cars.

Sam and I ran up the stairs and looked in the windows of the house. It was dark, no one was in there. I looked around and then noticed the light. It was coming from the basement, shining through the cracks in the entryway. I gestured to Sam, and we looked at each other, taking a breath, before pulling them open and slipping inside.

We moved quietly through the basement, candles lit up the room from holders on the walls. Rounding a corner we came upon the black altar. I rushed to it, Sam at my side, and grimaced. It was littered with parts of dead animals, blood, horns and candles. I grabbed at the photo I saw in the centre, my heart jumping into my throat. It was of Dean, taken from the security camera the first day we'd arrived, before he was healed. A bloody cross was drawn over his face.

"Sam!" I gasped, passing him the photo and running for the door. I bolted up the stairs and ran into Sue Ann coming down them.

"I gave your lover life, and I can take it away." Sue Ann hissed at me. I pushed her down the stairs and she fell with a shriek. Sam looked at her, fury in his eyes. He tipped over the table and yelled at me to find Dean. I ran.

It was dark, no moon in the sky, only a few barrels with fires lit in them to light up the evening. I ran through the cars, looking for Dean. I heard a shout of surprise, Dean, and ran in the direction it had come from.

Dean was running backwards, looking at something I couldn't see. The reaper. I ran up and grabbed him.

"Dean! Dean she marked you."

"No shit!" He said, looking freaked out and backing me away from the reaper, looking around furiously.

Suddenly Dean froze, and groaned, shaking right before my eyes. I spun around. Where was Sam? I couldn't see him, but I did spot someone else. Sue Ann. She was beside the tent entrance. I glanced at Dean, he'd fallen to his knees, his eyes glazed over to white and he was gasping for breath.

I ran as fast as I could for her. My mind only on getting to her in time. I threw myself against her, reaching for the cross she was holding up as she recited her incantation. I grabbed it out of her hands and smashed it on the ground, it broke, blood spilling on the ground. Sam reached us at the same time taking Sue Ann roughly in his hands, he was furious, rage burning in his eyes.

"My God, what have you done!" She cried out, I looked at her my own anger showing clearly.

"He's not your God." I said coldly.

Suddenly she looked terrified, and Sam released her, confused. She turned to run, but then her eyes glazed over, just like I'd seen Dean's do, and she fell to her knees gasping, she lay there for a moment and then she was deathly still. I left her there, looking for Dean, he wasn't where I'd left him. I looked about frantically and spotted him by the Impala, leaning against the roof.

I ran up to him and he wrapped his arms around me, I pulled him in tight, taking in the warmth of his body, squeezing him as I fought to hold down all the grief I'd been holding in all week.

"You ok?" Sam asked, walking up behind us.

Dean was rubbing my back and I felt his chest rise against my face as he shook his head. "Hell of a week." He said.

"Yeah..." Sam said, moving to the passenger door.

"You drive." Dean said, Sam looked surprised. Dean just threw him the keys and then opened the back door, taking my hand and pulling me in with him. He settled himself in the back seat and pulled me up against him. I wrapped my arms around him again, squeezing my eyes tight. Dean sighed.

"Yeah... hell of a week." He muttered again.

Baraboo, Wisconsin
9 years ago

Three hours later, John had come to a decision. He sat me with him, alone. I'd heard him talking on the phone to someone, I don't know who it was, but they seemed to have helped him clear his head.

"There are rules, rules that have to be obeyed without question. You don't follow the rules and you die." John said, taking me by the shoulders and looking me in the eye.

"I understand." I said quietly.

"You're young, too young for this life." John said sadly.

"But your sons do it." I pointed out.

"That's different, they were raised in this life. And I didn't have a choice." John said.

"The way I see it, neither do I any more." I replied.

"I'm not sure you understand the gravity of what I'd be asking you to give up."

"I understand." I said, looking him in the eye. I might have been only fifteen. But I knew that I stood a better chance of living, of revenging my fathers' murder, if I was with this man. I looked into his eyes, there was a kindness there, maybe he kept it hidden under a tough exterior – but it was still there. I knew it without even thinking, it was as if I could see into his soul, like I could with everyone – I had always been a good judge of character, and this man, I knew in my heart, could be trusted.

"You'll be saying goodbye to everything you've ever known." John prodded.

"Everything I know is dead." I whispered, tears in my eyes.

He paused. Eyes softening. "Are you sure?"

I looked him in the eyes and nodded. "I've never been more sure in my life." I replied.

He regarded me quietly. Then smiled. "You know, it's rare I listen to my sons over my own reservations." He said.

I looked surprised, Dean walked up behind us, arms crossed, looking attentive.

John looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "But Dean weighed in with his opinion, along with Sam's already very astute arguments, and I'm inclined to go with their judgement on this one."

My mouth dropped and I looked at Dean, he shook his head as if to say he thought I was crazy – he'd told me as much earlier when he told me this is not a life I would want. There was something else there in his eyes now, a quiet stillness, like he understood my anguish, understood my pain.

"Well..." I said softly. "That's a miracle right there."

I turned to John, holding my father's rosary in my hands. It matched mine, which I had hanging around my neck. I placed the rosary in John's hands, looking first at the beads resting against his skin, and then into his dark eyes.

"These are yours now." I said. "My father would have wanted it."

He nodded and gave me a hug. "It's going to be all right, Elizabeth."

"It's Beth..." I whispered. He smiled.

Motel Room
Present Day

Sam and I were standing in the corner of the room looking at Dean with worry. He was sitting on the bed, staring at nothing in particular – he'd been like this for half an hour. Sam gestured to Dean with a shake of his head and gave me a little push.

I walked over and knelt in front of Dean, taking his hands in mine, looking up into those troubled hazel eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing." Dean said, looking away.

"Dean..." I said gently. "What is it?"

He looked at me and sighed. "We did the right thing here didn't we?" He asked, doubt in his voice.

"Of course we did." Sam said from behind me. Dean looked up at him.

"It doesn't feel like it." He said hanging his head, I squeezed his hands, at a loss for what to say to comfort him.

There was a knock at the door. Sam went to answer it, opening the door wide for us to see who it was. Layla stood in the doorway, looking in at us. I stood up, smiling.

"Layla. Hi. Please come in." I said.

"Hey." Layla said. Dean had risen to his feet.

"How did you know we were here?" He asked, confused.

"Sam... called. He said you... wanted to say goodbye?" She asked, uncertain. I raised an eyebrow at Sam who looked at me sheepishly.

"Come on Beth, let's go grab a soda," Sam said pointedly, Dean frowned at the both of us, but I smiled and nodded, hooking my arm through Sam's as we left the room, shutting the door behind us.

We stopped, leaning against the wall. I looked at Sam. He shrugged. "It couldn't hurt." He said. I nodded.

We listened to them talking inside, we couldn't really make out what was being said. After a while the door opened and we startled away from the wall, making as if we'd just returned to the room. Layla was standing with her hand on the handle, looking back at Dean.

"Good bye Dean." She said, smiling.

We heard his voice float from inside the room. "Well... I'm not much of the praying type..." I smirked at that comment and Sam smiled. "But... I'm gonna pray for you." Dean finished.

Layla's eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Well..." She whispered. "That's a miracle right there." She said and I smiled, remembering when I'd said a similar thing many, many years ago.

Layla turned to leave, stopping to give us both a hug.

"Thank you." I whispered to her, and she nodded with a smile.

I walked in to the room to see Dean staring at the door, when he saw me he smiled and walked over, pulling me into a tight embrace, leaning down to kiss me with a pressing need. He broke away from the kiss with a small sigh of relief and his eyes were back to the same old Dean.

"Welcome back." I said, smiling at him.

"Thanks to you." He whispered. "You never gave up, you didn't leave me to die."

"Never." I said softly, leaning my head into his chest.

"You never gave up believing." He said, sounding surprised.

"Well... faith isn't just for when the good things happen." I said, looking up at him. "You have to have it during the bad times too."

"Funny... Layla just said almost exactly the same thing..." Dean murmured.

I smiled. "She's a clever lady." He nodded, silent.

"I'm glad you got your miracle." He said, looking at me with the same grief I'd been feeling all week. I watched as he blinked it away, replacing it with just a little hope. Hope that things might get better, might get a little brighter.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think :)

Song of the day is: You Found Me – The Fray

Question: What are some of your playlist songs for SPN?

I just have to say, I watch the episode I'm writing about – in bits and pieces – anywhere from 3-5 times when I'm writing just to get the feel for the story and to double check transcripts etc. Today was one of those days when I think I spent more time watching Dean and just drooling – he's so freaking hot! Danneel is one lucky lady to wake up next to Jensen Ackles every day ;) Mind you, he's pretty lucky too – she is gorgeous!

I've had to go back and make a couple of edits to the first story – the rosary on the mirror in John's motel room is the same one Beth gives John in this story. There will also be an edit where she gives it back to him when she sees him in Lawrence.

Oh, and shout out to Baraboo, where I lived for like 5 years! :D It's quaint, it's little, and it's lovely!

Next up... Sam's powers start to be revealed! And Dean & Beth get to dress up as a priest and nun - oh fun times!