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Bobby had reached the town by the early hours of the morning. He tried Dean's mobile three times, and on the third Dean finally answered. Dean wouldn't say much, only where he was and that Bobby had to get there now. The first few rays of the rising sun were reaching out across the city as Bobby turned into the street Dean had mentioned and pulled up beside the Impala. He got out of his truck and jogged over to the Impala. In the back seat was a black-haired, unconsious girl with her hands tied behind her back. Dean wasn't there. Bobby stared at the girl for a moment, and the darkening bruise on her forehead. Then he stood back, pulling out his gun.

"Dean? Dean!"

An answering shout from the corner of the street made him turn around. Dean was standing at the corner, his rock salt rifle hanging loosely from his fingers. Blood caked the side of his head, and his face was pale. He squinted at Bobby, as if he was having trouble recognizing him. Bobby strode over to him, his heart jerking in his chest.

"Jesus Christ, Dean, what the hell happened?"

Dean looked at him, swaying slightly on his feet. "He's not here. They took him. I couldn't stop them."

Bobby's stomach dropped away. "Sam?"

Dean nodded dejectedly. Bobby pressed his lips together and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling the hunter over to his truck. He glanced down at his watch. It was just past three thirty in the morning. No one would be around for a few more hours, but they had to get somewhere safe fast in case the demons returned. Bobby opened the passenger door of his truck and sat Dean down in it, his legs dangling out of the car. He ran around to the back of his truck to fetch his first aid kit.

"I couldn't save him, Bobby," Dean said quietly. "And they know about him. They know about him and they're gonna take him to yellow eyes..."

"The yellow eyed demon?" Bobby almost dropped the kit as he made his way back to Dean. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"We were trying to help the demons' hosts," Dean replied. He hissed as Bobby disinfected his head wound. "They broke out. Knocked me out. Musta gone after him..."

"That girl, in your car," Bobby said, jerking his head in the direction of the Impala. "Is she one of them?"

Dean nodded. "She came back for me."

Bobby shook his head, gritting his teeth in fustration. "Damn it, Dean! Why do you and your brother always end up in things that are too big for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"These demons!" Bobby cried, waving one hand over at the Impala as he pressed gauze against Dean's head with his free hand. "They're almost as powerful as the yellow eyed demon. They kill, they torture and they never stop."

"We have to stop them, we have to find-"

"Sam, I know," Bobby finished for him. "There's no way you're rushing after them in this state."

"But Sam-"

"Dean, you're barely standing. Besides, we don't even know where Sam is."

Dean stared up at him, slowly realizing that Bobby was right. Bobby sighed at the stricken, panicked expression on Dean's face and taped the gauze into place.

"Calm down, Dean..."

"There has to be a way, I'm not gonna let this happen, this can't-"

"Dean!" Bobby gripped Dean's shoulders, forcing Dean to stop talking and look at him. "Have you forgotten that you've got one of those demons sitting in your car? She can help us."

Dean looked down at the ground, clearly not convinced. Bobby sighed and let him go. "We'll drive your car back, I'll come pick mine up later. And don't you even think about driving 'cos there is no way you're goin' on the road in this condition."

Dean scowled and pushed out of the truck, wincing as he jolted to the ground. Bobby locked his truck up and then walked over to the Impala with Dean. As they got in, he glanced over his shoulder at the girl.

"What did you hit her with?"

"My gun."

Bobby shook his head. "I didn't know you hit girls."

Dean glared at him. "Its not a girl. Its a demon."

Bobby nodded. "I guess. Lets just get out of here. Where are you staying?"

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Sam winced and cracked his eyes open. It was dark. He closed his eyes again and shifted on the ground, but something held him back. His arms were twisted up over his head and secured there by something hard and cold. If he could just work through the fog in his head, he might be able to work out what it was... he squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, blinking hard until the floor in front of him came into focus. Water shimmered on the ground beneath him, soaking into his jeans. He shifted again and gasped as it lapped around him, icy cold. Turning his head, he could just catch a glimpse of a metal pillar stretching from floor to ceiling behind him. His wrists seemed to be attatched to it somehow. Sam tugged at the restraints expreimentally, and then gave in. He would never be able to break those. He leant his head back against the pillar, quickly becoming aware of the throbbing agony in his leg, which was stretched out in front of him.

Was I shot...?

Sam tried to move his leg and let out a sharp hiss of pain as spears of agony stabbed at him.

Okay, not a good idea. Moving bad.

He could move his other leg fine, and nothing else seemed to be broken. So now there was just one more problem. Well two actually: a)where the hell was he and b) how the hell did he get there? He closed his eyes, digging through the fog in his head to the last thing he remembered. He had been holding someone's hand... Chelsea, that was it. And Dean had wanted him to... to run... from demons.

Sam exhaled and opened his eyes. He was with the demons. Well, that was just perfect.

Call Dean.

But he had put his mobile in his jacket pocket, and his jacket was gone. Which meant that the small knife he kept in there for emergencies was also gone. Sam swore softly and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He could hear a small, insistent dripping from somewhere on his right, presumably the source of the water. It was so dark that he could only see the floor directly around him.

Even as he was thinking that fact, a door opened part way up the wall and light flooded into the room. Sam winced, his head aching dully as the light swarmed in on him, and turning his head away.

"Hey, Sammy. You miss me?"

Matt. Sam squinted up at him as he made his way down a set of stone steps against the opposite wall and then strode over to him. His eyes were shimmering red in the half-light.

"What do you want with me?" Sam whispered as Matt crouched down before him.

Matt grinned. "Why, you're special, Sammy. You know that. You've got those facinating little abilities."

Sam stared at him. "How the hell do you know about that?"

Matt shrugged. "I guess someone must have let it slip."

Before Sam could understand what he meant, Matt shifted a little closer and reached out to ruffle Sam's hair. Sam pulled away as far as he could, clenching his jaw.

"Aw, I know. Sammy doesn't like it down here, its all wet," Matt said, making his voice high and childish. "Well, don't worry about it. This is only temporary, until we get hold of your pal Azazel."

"Azazel?"

"You probably know him better as the yellow eyed demon."

Sam froze, his eyes widening. "He's coming here?"

"If you're lucky he'll be here in a few days to pick you up," Matt said, cocking his head. "Now, won't that be nice?"

Fury whipped through Sam. After everything he and Dean had been through, he was just going to be handed over to yellow eyes. Like his mother. Like Dad. Sam's face twisted with anger and he lashed out with his good leg, catching Matt by suprise. The demon tumbled over backwards but surged up to his feet again in seconds, his eyes flashing with anger. He strode forwards and kicked Sam hard in the stomach. Sam let out a yelp, struggling to breathe, and Matt brought his fist down on Sam's face.

"Matt!"

They both looked up, blood trickling from Sam's nose and mouth. Ursula was standing at the top of the stairs, her arms folded.

"Careful. We don't want to damage him too badly."

Matt made a whining sound and sauntered over to her. "Aw, just a few more minutes?"

She grinned. "Only if you leave some for the rest of us."

Matt nodded and leant forwards to kiss her. Sam spat the blood out of his mouth, its coppery taste filling his mouth. His head was spinning painfully.

Why do I always end up walking right into my visions? he asked himself. And why do they always have to be so damn crappy?

Ursula and Matt broke apart, and Ursula headed back up the stairs. Matt turned to Sam, smirking.

"Lets play," he said softly.

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Bobby and Dean checked into a new motel and, somehow, managed to get Chelsea inside without drawing attention to themselves. Dean deposited her limp form in a chair and tied her to it before standing up and sitting down on a bed, rubbing his face.

"I hate all nighters..."

Bobby crouched down beside Chelsea, checking her pulse. "She'll wake up soon," he said. "How do you know she won't be herself again?"

"I don't," Dean replied. "But I'm not taking any more chances. Sam looked something up that said that if these demons are in an emergency situation they can take control of their hosts for longer periods of time."

Bobby nodded. "I've heard the same thing." He stood up and went to his bag, pulling out a notebook that resembled the Winchester's journal. "I've also got this."

Dean took the notebook and looked down at the information scrawled over the page. "A trap?"

"Its like the tattoos you and Sam use to protect yourselves, expect this one locks the demon inside and keeps the host in control. They have been known to be broken, but it might be the only chance we have until we can figure out a way to kill these demons."

Dean nodded. "Sounds like a plan. But if the demon isn't in charge anymore, how are we going to find out where Sam is?"

Bobby shook his head. "She wouldn't tell you anyway, Dean. You know that."

Dean sighed. Then he rose and walked away. "Do it, then. I'm having a shower."

His own words reminded him of Sam, talking to him just that morning. He stopped and turned at the door.

"I'm getting him back, Bobby."

Bobby nodded. "I know you are."

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By the time Dean returned to the room, Chelsea was awake. Bobby had already drawn the trap symbol on her shoulder with a permanent marker pen, something that should remain on for the longest period of time. Chelsea looked up as Dean entered, her eyes slightly damp.

"Is it true?" she whispered. "The others... they've got Sam?"

So the trap was working, then. Dean looked away from her and walked across the room to get a coffee. "Yeah," he muttered. "Its true."

"Oh, god..."

The fact that he could hear that she was close to tears was enough to send a wave of anger through Dean. She had been the one to first chase after Sam. It was her fault... he shook himself. Not her fault, demon's fault, he told himself sharply. Just because Sam was missing, it didn't give him the right to just blame everyone for his loss.

"You can't remember any of the demon's plans?" Bobby was asking her. "Nothing?"

Chelsea shook her head. "Its like we're two different people in the same body. I can't read minds."

Across the room, Dean's mobile began to ring.

They all froze, staring over at the mobile. Then Chelsea and Bobby looked up at Dean. Dean swallowed hard and made his way over to the mobile. He looked at the caller ID, glanced at them, and then answered the mobile.

"Ursula."

"Hi, Dean," Ursula said silkily.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You're not her, are you?"

"Nope. I'm not quite ready to give her up yet, since if I do she'll just come running to you."

"Where's Sam?"

"Where's Chelsea?"

Dean stopped, frowning. "Chelsea?"

"We want her back, Dean. If you don't give her to us, we'll just take her."

"Give me Sam."

"I don't think so."

"Where is he?!" Dean screamed into the mobile. "If you've laid one finger on him I'll kill you all I swear."

"You'd kill us anyway." She replied smoothly. "That's the kind of psychotic person you are."

Dean opened his mouth to yell at her again, but she was already speaking. "Where is Chelsea?" she asked.

"She's free," Dean spat. "And she's staying that way."

There was a pause on the line. Then, "Not for long," Ursula said quietly.

She hung up.

Dean tossed the mobile down on his bed and sat down, putting his head in his hands.

"What did she say?" Bobby asked.

"She wanted Chelsea back. Said that she was going to come and take her if we didn't give her up. She wouldn't tell me where Sam was."

Chelsea's eyes widened. "Is that because I've still got a demon in me?"

Bobby nodded. "Pretty likely. But that means that they could track us here."

Dean lifted his head, glaring up at them. "Let them," he muttered. "I prefer a straight fight."

"No, we wouldn't stand a chance," Bobby replied sharply. He turned to Chelsea. "What about your flat?"

"My...?"

"Its the last place they would expect us to go," Bobby explained.

Chelsea nodded. "Of course, if you think so."

"And there's one more thing," Bobby added.

"What?"

Bobby looked down at her, his mouth a firm line. "You have to remember," he replied.