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Sam woke to someone tapping the driver's side window. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to see a young woman tapping the window with the barrel of her sawed off shotgun. He sat still while she pocketed the money and waved for him to slowly get out of the car.

Once he was standing, he realized just how small she was, barely five foot and probably not much more than a hundred pounds. "Leave any weapons in the car," she said firmly. "You want our help, you do it our way."

Sam slowly unloaded all of his weapons into the trunk. Once she was satisfied he was no longer armed she lower her gun and motioned him to follow her. She shoved the rusted gate open and said, "You're lucky you got here this early. We have an appointment in a few hours and you would have had to wait. How did you find us anyways?"

Sam nodded and asked, "My dad had the address in his hunting journal. It didn't have a phone number or I would have called first."

"No point," the girl said. "If we handed out the number, hunters would want phone consultations and it's hard to get paid for those. We don't do freebies."

"Out of curiosity, what's the normal rate," Sam asked, he only had a few hundred dollars left from hustling pool.

The girl shrugged. "Depends on what you're looking for and what it takes to find it," she said.

"I'm looking for my brother. He's lost somewhere-"

"No point in telling me," she said with a shrug, interrupting him. "You can save it for Martha; she's the one you want."

Sam glanced at the girl, she seemed unconcerned. He shook his head, this was business to her. It wasn't like it was her brother missing. When they reached the rickety steps they paused. "You can head in, Martha's inside. I'll stay out here," she said as she scanned the dirt road, clutching her gun to her chest.

The inside of the trailer was dim and the stench of incense burned Sam's nose. Why gypsies always burned the stuff he didn't know, it didn't help them with anything, Sam thought to himself.

"On the contrary young man, it helps a great deal," Martha said. Sam turned and spotted her, she looked by far older than Sam would have imagined. Her black hair was braided and pinned to her head in a crown, her dark eyes clouded with cataracts.

"I'm Sam-"

"I know who you are," Martha said as she gestured to a chair across the table. "I met your daddy a few years back when he was looking for a demon. Anyhow, what do you need?"

"My brother's missing, has been missing for weeks actually," Sam explained, trying to keep the anxiety from his voice. "He went missing while hunting wendigo."

Martha closed her eyes and began to nod as Sam began to recap the search from the beginning. "I can see you've been diligent in your search. But I don't see you getting any closer," Martha said. "What exactly made you think I would be able to help you?"

Sam pulled the small gray river rock out of his pocket and set it on the table between them. Martha smiled when she saw the stone, picking it up and rolling it in her hands. "A believer I see," she said coyly. "There aren't many who would think of scrying."

Martha rolled the stone between her hands for several minutes before setting the stone back on the table. "You understand that scrying usually depicts the past, present, or future. It's not about to churn out a set of coordinates for you. There are times when the information is useful and other times it can be damaging. It will be for me to determine if the information will be useful to you, and I will decide what you will be told."

Sam's indignation was clear on his face, but he quickly nodded his consent. Martha slowly rose from the couch and began to clear the table. She placed a white linen cloth in the table, followed by a stone bowl of clear water. She hesitated before adding a few drops of green dye to the water. Once the green had dispersed into the bowl she sat back down and closed her eyes. Sam sat quietly and tried to not fidget.

After several minutes, Martha let out a deep sigh and said, "Go wait outside."

Sam hesitated but followed her instructions. He was sitting on the rickety steps when he saw another car pull up beside the Impala, an old station wagon, the kind Dean loved to hate. From it stepped a lanky, skinny young man wearing shades that desperately begged for respect. His stride was out of sorts, making him appear even more uncoordinated. He started towards the trailer but was met at the gate by Lori, the same young girl that had stopped Sam. After a brief conversation, the man returned to his car and sat on the hood. Lori walked back the trailer and sat down beside Sam. "I hate it when hunters are early. They all think their problem is the most important one," Lori said. "Look at this guy, a total newbie."

Sam chuckled and rubbed a hand over his tired face. "How long does it usually take," he asked.

Before Lori got a chance to answer the door swung open, smacking Sam in the back. "Lori, get in here," Martha demanded. "Where is the map? I'm going to need you to find it and get it laid out."

Without a word Lori handed Sam her shotgun and went to help Martha. It was half an hour before Martha kicked her back out of the trailer. An hour later Martha slowly opened the door and called Sam inside; as Sam sat back down at the table he could tell she had been busy. There was the bowl of green water, a black scrying mirror, one small clear glass ball and another larger one made of amethyst both carefully perched on metal stands. There was a map of the state forest carelessly draped on the couch next to Martha.

"As you can see, I've had to pull all the stops out," Martha said tiredly as she waved a hand at the messy table. "But I can tell you a few things."

Sam perched himself on the edge of his chair and asked, "Where is he? Is he alright?"

Martha waved a dismissive hand towards him. "I can't tell you exactly where he is. He is alive but there is something about him…that's not quite right. He's underground, a cave maybe."

Sam sat waiting for her to continue, but she didn't. "What else?"

"There wasn't anything else, Sam," Martha said apologetically. "I wish there was."

Sam sat quietly for a minute. At least he knew Dean was alive. That was reason enough to keep looking.

Sam was halfway across the yard to the gate when Martha burst out of the trailer. "Sam! Stay away from the crossroad demons. If they know he's missing, they'll find him before you do. No doubt about that. And tell Bobby Singer hello for me when you see him."

Sam called back to her, "I've been trying to reach him, he's-"

Martha interrupted him, "He's at your cabin."

Sam turned in surprise and nearly ran for the car. Lori stopped him at the gate. "Two hundred," she said to him with her hand out. Sam drug into his wallet and shoved a few bills into her hands.

Sam broke every speed limit to get to the cabin, managing to cut about an hour off his drive back to the cabin. He parked the Impala and nearly ran into the cabin.

"Bobby!" he said as he flung the door open. "Glad you finally made it!"

Bobby Singer was nearly lifted off the floor as Sam pulled the older hunter into a bear hug. Bobby knew from the extra few seconds it took Sam to release him that Sam was worse off than he had accounted for.

"I hit a few snags, well, a few nightmares, but I finally managed to get here," Bobby explained. "Now let's see how you're doing, son."

Sam immediately leapt into hunter mode. "Well, here are the maps; I've crossed the areas we've been over. Buck Thompson and I used hounds on most of the same areas. I've got the files from the original cases. You want to hear what Martha had to say?"

Bobby shook his head in disbelief. "Sam, I know I came here to look for Dean but what I meant was how you are doing. How much sleep did you get last night? When did you last eat?"

Bobby immediately regretted his statement. He could see Sam's energy deflate before he even quit talking. Sam tossed the files on the bed and sat down across from Bobby. "I'm not sure how you really want me to answer that Bobby," Sam said. "I've been looking nonstop. You know that."

Bobby nodded and took his hat off, tossing it on the table. "Well, I have plan. Not a good one," Bobby explained. "I'll probably get my nose broken again. We're not hunting in the forest tomorrow. We're not even hunting for Dean tomorrow."

Sam looked up at Bobby, uncertainly on his face.

Bobby smiled and said, "Tomorrow, we're hunting Allison Hilty. I've got an idea of where we're going to find her. And then she's going to find him. "

So…..This feels like a good stopping point for the night. Or early morning, whichever. Anyways! Send me reviews, like I said, I'll take special requests!

Oh! And how can guess the identity of the young gangly man? Yeah, I made it too easy…Anyone want him to appear again?

Most importantly though-review! Or Dean gets it! Or maybe Sam's hair will….or Bobby's car…it's so hard to choose…..