Disclaimer - Usual. Thanks to TETIK and gang for the awesome return last night. Ya'll rock!

Chapter 14

Sam peered out the office window and saw Dean lying on the floor. He was in obvious pain but was trying to get to his feet. To his horror, Sam watched as his own foot kicked out and connected with Dean's face, knocking him back to the ground.

"No! Dean…" Sam realized that the reason Jess' fear had been so palpable was because it was actually Thomas' fear, and Thomas had control of Sam's body. What Thomas felt, Sam felt, to some degree. He had to do something other than watch helplessly as his brother was beat down. He began to appreciate what their dad must have gone through when the Demon possessed him. But Sam was not being held prisoner. He could act.

"Thomas!" Sam called out while turning away from the window.

He heard Thomas' laugh before the man materialized in front of him. "Enjoying the view?" Thomas could feel Sam's anger and frustration, as well as his uncertainty and fear. He was mildly surprised that, even being in Sam's body, that was all he could pick up on. The kid had some natural talent, Thomas had to give him that.

Sam stepped forward and, in a fluid motion, sent a left jab to Thomas' face. Thomas' head snapped back from the impact and he let out a cry of pain. He was surprised that Sam had resorted to physical force, but then remembered that the boy was largely untrained and didn't know the power he had the potential to wield. Still, the punch smarted and he would punish Sam for it. Grinning, Thomas crouched and put his hands out in front of him as if he were grabbing something. And the lights of the office flickered wildly.

Sam's head whipped around to the window and he heard his brother cry out again. At first, he had been confused by Thomas' reaction to the punch, but he quickly realized that his body mirrored what Thomas did. Sam's body had crouched, reached out, and grabbed Dean's head, igniting Dean's nerves with fire.

"Stop it!" He took a stop forward. Come on, Dean, get up.

"Then keep your hands off… or I'll kill him," Thomas snapped. Anger flashed in his eyes, but he chuckled, "Well, I'm going to do that anyway…"

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Dean was getting tired of being used as an electrical conduit. See, Sammy, there's a reason I hate touchy-feely crap. He had noticed that right before this latest attack, Thomas' attention shifted. Distraction was one of the things he had been trained to spot in an opponent, and Thomas definitely seemed distracted. He was less aware of Dean and his surroundings, though not enough to forget about him. Way to go, Sam. Dean believed that Sam was fighting Thomas and was thus the reason for the distraction. He would not consider any other alternative explanation for the shift in attention.

Dean took advantage of Thomas' inattentiveness. Thomas was still crouched, putting him at eye level as Dean rose from the floor to his knees. Dean hit Sam's face as hard as he thought was necessary to knock him out, but no harder. The awkward position and shift in weight caused Dean to fall forward. He and Sam both went down, with Dean landing on top of his brother. This would have been funny had they been in a different situation. Or drunk… very, very drunk.

"Sorry, kiddo." Dean rolled onto the floor and took a minute to recover himself. Oh brother. I just got you into the chair. Ah, screw it. He continued to lie there, next to his brother, regaining his strength, and hoped he had, in fact, helped Sam.

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Sam fought a bout of vertigo as he felt his physical body fall to the floor. Thomas had also been affected by the blow. He didn't know how he knew, but Sam could tell that Thomas was no longer tethered to him anymore. Rendering Sam's body unconscious, disconnected Thomas from any hold he had there. He grabbed Thomas and pushed him to the door between his mind and Thomas'.

Sam had just opened the door between their worlds, when Thomas struggled harder than ever to stay put. He had to regain control of the situation. He actually began to fear what the demon might do if he failed. He had not even considered the possibility of failure. He'd never before dealt with multiple minds fighting him at the same time, and only began to realize he might have overestimated his own strength and power. He struck out again, trying to use pain to loosen Sam's grip on him. Sam, however, reacted unexpectedly.

Sam felt Thomas' struggles increase as they approached the door. He felt Thomas reach out with his mind, probably to attack, but he was getting accustomed to these new sensations; he'd always been a quick study. Sam put as much concentration as he could into building a wall to block Thomas. Under different circumstances, he would have chuckled to himself as he felt Thomas bounce when he hit the wall. Growing in his understanding of how this psychic stuff seemed to work, Sam pushed back, using the wall to plow Thomas out of his mind. Thomas fought to find a way around or through the wall, but every time he touched it, his hand burned from the contact.

Sam herded Thomas the rest of the way out of his mind, and the door between their worlds closed. Sam stared at the door for a moment before opening it again. When he reached the threshold between his mind and Thomas', he held no illusions; Thomas would be a much more difficult adversary in his own mind than in Sam's, but Kaitlyn was being held prisoner there, and Sam was the only one who could help.

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This isn't possible, Thomas thought. He's wild and uncontrolled, he should be no match for my experience and power. He was beginning to feel afraid, desperate even.

Thomas had noticed, in the past, that the human body acted as a sort of battery or power supply for maintaining life. This seemed an obvious discovery, for it's the reason people are told to eat right and maintain a healthy body. However, each person's body, mind and soul are tuned to themselves, meaning each individual is most efficient for himself. Thomas found that, when he attempted control over someone else's body, the energy level of that person's physical body as well as his own psychic, mental energy drained at a much quicker rate than normal. His energy had been draining from the moment he took over Sam's body. When Dean had knocked him out, he experienced a further power-drain from being suddenly disconnected from the battery that was Sam's body. Continued struggles to keep his foothold in Sam's mind, drained him further still. Thomas did not know how low his power supply actually was until he got back to his own failing power supply.

When he was so rudely ejected from Sam, back into his own mind, he quickly tried to set up blocks and barriers to keep Sam out and Kaitlyn in.

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Kaitlyn's head felt like a lead weight. She tried to lift it and groaned, experiencing a rhythmic throbbing for her effort. She tried to lift her hand to her head and realized it was shackled. She could hear the chains clatter against the stone surface of the wall. This realization caused a new wave of fear and adrenaline to course through her and brought her fully awake. Thomas was standing not far away, watching her. Their eyes locked and he smiled his malevolent smile, though he remained where he was. After a moment of staring, Kaitlyn tore her eyes away and tried to scan her surroundings. It was still pitch black. There were two candelabras not far from her, but the light they gave off was oddly muted and didn't travel very far. In fact, they did so little to provide light that their stands remained dark and they appeared to be hovering balls of light.

Her arms were shackled just too high for her to sit on the ground, so she tried to prop herself on her feet. This became tiring, quickly, due to her earlier trauma. She would either have to hang from her arms or stand. She chose to stand.

Thomas reached out and pushed a button in front of him. The shackles were released and fell from her wrists. "Run," Thomas said simply.

Kaitlyn stared at him for a minute, surprised and a little confused. "Um… no," she decided, after the raging success of her last attempt to run, that she would not do so again. She was too tired to play his stupid little games. Besides, with the way her head was throbbing, she wasn't sure if she could run.

"Fine," Thomas seemed nonplussed by her decision to be defiant. In fact, his grin indicated that he would enjoy himself, whatever she did.

As he approached her, she caught the dim light from the candles reflect off a long thin edge extending from his hand. He was armed with a knife. Kaitlyn backed up to the wall behind her and scanned the room for a means of escape. Thomas' hands were down by his side, leaving his body open. Kaitlyn decided that now might be a good time to use the few self-defense moves she had learned from her husband. She struck out with both hands simultaneously. The left hand found its mark at Thomas' groin and her right hand hit his throat, effectively dropping Thomas to the floor. It had the added benefit of causing him to drop his knife with a clatter. He made a strangled groaning sound and rolled onto his side. Taking only a split second to decide what to do, Kaitlyn grabbed the knife that was on the floor at Thomas' back and ran to the other side of the room. This was the first time that she noticed she could actually see some of her surroundings. It was still very dark, but there was enough light from the candles to leave the slightest reflection on what she hoped was a doorknob.

She had been right, and as she ran through the door, she found herself in the lit hallway of what appeared to be a hospital. She stopped short, confused. She turned around and saw that the door through which she had come, was now nothing but a wall. There were so many things not-right with this scenario. She shouldn't be able to see anything in Thomas' mind. And why would he have a hospital corridor in his house? He wants me to see this. So… It looks like I'm running after all.

There were a handful of doors on the corridor, all of them locked. The last door she came to had one of those long, narrow, glass windows above the door handle. She looked through the window and was surprised to see Thomas' room at the hospital facility. It took her a second to register what she was watching. She watched as Sam and Dean fought each other. Occasionally, Sam would touch Dean and cause him excruciating pain. She figured it was Thomas controlling Sam's body, and that he was using the same pain-induction on Dean that he had used on her. There was one final time when Thomas, in Sam's body, caused Dean enough pain that he dropped to the floor. Thomas didn't release his hold, however, and she could see Dean twitch and jar like he was being electrocuted.

"No!" She tried to open the door, but it was locked, so she banged on the door, hoping to get the attention of the occupants inside. "No! Stop it!" She yelled.

She watched in horror as Thomas finally let go. Dean had apparently passed out. Thomas took the opportunity to grab the knife, the only weapon Dean had brought into the hospital. Although she yelled and screamed, she could do nothing to prevent what happened next. Thomas brought the knife up and slit Dean's throat.

Kaitlyn's breath caught. Thomas looked up at her through Sam's eyes and smiled. She took a step back from the door, promptly dropped on all fours and threw up, then collapsed onto her side.

Wiping her mouth, she rolled over onto her back and sobbed. This was all her fault. If she hadn't been so ready to join the fight, but so unprepared for what might happen if she did, the young hunters would never have gotten involved in this. Now, Dean was dead. How could she face Sam?

She didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew that she had to find a way to get to Sam. He at least deserved to know the truth. She could mourn for Dean later, though she didn't feel she deserved to be able to. She got up from the floor and looked around. The hallway had changed. It was still the hospital corridor, but now there was only one door at the end of the hall. All other doors had vanished.

She walked through the door and found herself in an office building. Cubical walls lined both sides of the aisle. At the end of the hall there was a glass-enclosed office. She could see Sam inside, engaged in conversation with an attractive young blonde she recognized as Jess. Their body language became more animated as the conversation continued, and finally Sam turned away from the girl. Kaitlyn heard the scream and saw the blood start to flow from Jess' midsection.

"It's not real, Sam." She spoke softly, knowing that Sam wouldn't be able to hear her even if she yelled. She watched as Sam ran back and held Jess as she died. Tears streamed down Kaitlyn's face as she watched Sam backed away from the body and went toward the window. Despite what he had just experienced, he seemed transfixed by whatever was the view outside the window.

Curious, Kaitlyn walked to a window in her part of the building that shared a view with the office. Sam was watching what Kaitlyn had seen previously… Dean's death. Her head snapped around to watch Sam. She saw him bang on the window, much like she had done. She watched him go from angry and frustrated to terrified and then stunned.

Tears were just beginning to fall from his eyes, when Kaitlyn noticed a dark, smokey shape take form. The yellow-eyed demon appeared to Sam and began to talk with him. At first, Sam argued with it. He even threw himself at it, but it was like trying to fight smoke. Kaitlyn watched as Sam got that look of intense concentration. A pencil from the desk behind The Demon flew at it and it laughed, unfazed by the meager display. In turn, it slammed Sam into the wall, hard enough to shake the glass of the office. It pointed out the window to his brother. Although Kaitlyn couldn't hear what was being said, she watched with growing anxiety as Sam began to listen. His sorrow was consuming him and it gave the demon an "in." He closed his eyes and tears fell. The longer it spoke to Sam, the softer its features became.

"No, Sam, don't listen!" Kaitlyn took a few steps closer to the glass office. "Sam, please." She pleaded. She tried to reach him mentally as she had done before. For a second she thought it worked. She felt the familiar connection. But Sam opened his eyes and glanced her way. A wall slammed into place between them. He'd known she was there and he blocked her out. Maybe he blamed her for Dean's death. She did.

Kaitlyn found herself once again with her hands pressed against glass separating her from someone she cared about, unable to do anything. Sam stopped fighting; the defiance melted from his features. She watched as he continued to offer up half-hearted arguments that the demon brushed aside with its own soothing words. Her stomach dropped as she watched Sam give a final small nod of acceptance. The Demon smiled and lowered Sam to his feet. It wrapped its arm around its prize in a pseudo-compassionate gesture, and led him through a door on the other side of the office. Kaitlyn screamed in frustration. She felt angry and lost.

Emptiness settled around her. Hopelessness began to consume her. She had been responsible for Dean's death. She had watched helplessly, and perhaps even had a hand in the fall of another of the chosen. And she still had no means of escape.

She was not at all surprised when she tried the door to the office and found it was now open. She moved across the room, toward the door through which Sam and the demon had gone, as if she thought she might be able to catch up with them. But the hall on the other side was dark and the walls were made of stone. They were damp and mildewed and the air smelled stale. Once again the door behind her closed and became part of the stone walls.

She found she was in a maze. Her spirits sank. She retraced her steps three times, each time finding herself somewhere new, before she realized that this maze was shifting around her. She knew she really had no hope of getting out if Thomas didn't want her to.

Exhaustion pulled at her and each step she took came only with great effort. She tried to rest, tried to sit. But each time she slid down a wall, ready to give up, something would happen. One time she sat down and the holes in the mortar around her burst with insects and creepy-crawlies. With a scream, she jumped to her feet, wiped frantically at any bug that had touched her skin, and ran down another corridor. Another time, she rested against a wall and quickly heard lumbering footsteps coming toward her. Snarling and growling reached her ears and she decided she didn't even want to know what it was.

Down another corridor, shadows from the walls reached out and tried to grab her. Had she not been so terrified and exhausted, this would have been one of the coolest haunted houses ever. She finally reached what seemed to be the end. Part of her didn't even want to reach for the door. She knew that Thomas had let her get this far and she didn't want to know what he had waiting on the other side of the door. As she stood, contemplating her dilemma, the air stirred around her. She heard a shuffling noise behind her. When she turned to look, her breath was stolen away. The horrible zombie-women from Thomas' paintings had not been nearly as frightening as they were now, in full color. All of the reddish-brown from half-dried blood, each purple, red and blue bruise, the off-color flesh tone of a body no longer pink with life, the gore – it all added realism and horror to heighten her fear. She had thought she was afraid of them before, but that was nothing to the fear she felt now and that made the decision for her to go through the door.

Unexpectedly, the floor dropped out from under her as she passed through the door. She fell hard after a ten-foot drop. Pain erupted in her side. She smiled to herself as she realized what had happened. She had completely forgotten about the knife she held in her right hand. Well, it was no longer in her right hand. It was now piercing her left side. She lay for a minute in the darkness. The room was cavernous and hollow. It was also very dark, and part of her welcomed this. She was nearing the end of her struggles. She could feel it. Her energy was spent, her blood spilt; she felt cold and numb and nothing more. At least she wouldn't have to see any more. Tears of regret started to fall, each sob sending pain shooting through her side, though it lessened as time went on.

She began to pray. She felt she needed absolution for getting the young men involved and then for losing both of them. She remembered her husband and that, in a way, his death had been because of her as well. A strange thing happened. She believed that if you ask for forgiveness, you receive it. And her load lifted slightly. She was then reminded that, though she might die in the dark, she was not really alone.

My enemies, do not gloat over me! Though I have fallen, I will get up. Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light. She smiled to herself as she never imagined that verse would ever be so literal for her. She repeated the verse to herself and started giggling. She was vaguely aware that she was probably in shock, but why die crying when you can die laughing.

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Sam kicked in the door between his and Thomas' mind, forcing entry and, unknowingly, weakening Thomas a little more with each assault. He found himself in the entryway that Kaitlyn had described from her time there. Only, for Sam, it was fully lit. The house had a disused and rundown feel and appearance. The rug was threadbare, wallpaper was pealing in places, and dust and cobwebs clung to nearly every surface. Sam had an ever-growing feeling of urgency to find Kaitlyn. He couldn't explain why, but it seemed to grow exponentially the further in to Thomas' house he got. He also couldn't figure out where Thomas was. He seemed to be ignoring Sam's presence, and this was disconcerting. Was Thomas so involved with Kaitlyn that he didn't notice Sam, or did he just not care?

Sam decided, for the sake of time, that he would try to find Kaitlyn her way. He stood still, closed his eyes and concentrated. He stretched out his mind and opened his eyes, searching for some sign of the light she gave off. He only saw one lit person in an upstairs, corner room. This didn't bode well, but he would track down the only lead he had. He ran up the stairs three at a time and jogged to the room.

The door was locked, so Sam slammed his body into the door. When it didn't give, he stepped back and kicked at the door. He heard the wood frame groan and crack. As he prepared for a second kick, he heard plopping noises and looked over the banister to the front hall. He watched as, just as Kaitlyn had described, the zombie-women dropped from their frames to the floor. Inspiration struck and he ran back down the stairs. On his way he picked up a long, old-fashioned candleholder that he planned on using as a bat.

The first woman reached him and he swung. Dean would have been proud. The candlestick connected with her head and there was a sick, wet, squelching sound. The force of the blow swung her away from him, but she stayed on her feet. He ducked, dodged and hit his way through to the portraits. He set aside the candlestick as he reached the first picture. He ripped it from it's place and smashed it against the wall, shattering it. The woman from that portrait shrieked and dissolved into a puddle on the floor. Just like Bloody Mary. This aggravated the women, raising the level of their groaning and shuffling. He moved from picture to picture, grabbing them off the wall and then breaking them. One frame he had to use defensively as the women became more enraged the fewer of them there were. He hit a woman with the frame, then brought the picture down over her head, which broke the picture and reducing her to a puddle. When the last of the pictures was destroyed, the whole house around Sam groaned and creaked in protest. He heard Thomas shout in frustration and pain. But still Thomas did not make an appearance or try to stop him.

Sam headed back up the stairs to the corner room and proceeded to kick in the door. This time, the door gave way and flew open. Sam stared in surprise as he saw a small, cowering man looking back at him. Thomas really didn't look much different here than he did in the hospital room. It was like pulling the curtain back and seeing the Wizard for the first time. All awe and fear left Sam and he almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

"Where's Kaitlyn?" he demanded.

"No…no where."

Sam looked up and saw the wall was lined with monitors. Each monitor showed a different part of the maze through which Kaitlyn had traveled. One monitor was completely dark.

"There." Sam said pointing. "Is she there?"

"It's too late." Thomas simpered. "I couldn't even get her to commit suicide." He said with tears in his eyes. "I was supposed to become a god," he whispered to himself. "I failed. How could I fail?... He lifted his favor." Thomas' eyes narrowed as he glanced up at Sam, who, as he listened to the man's monologue, was forcibly reminded of Gollum. "He took my power because of him. I can still hurt him, though." Then his eyes flashed with malevolence and he smiled. He spoke to Sam this time. "She's still going to die."

Sam stepped forward and grabbed the frail creature before him, slamming him into the wall. Unlike his brother earlier, he did not hold back. "If she dies, she won't be the only one." He stared at Thomas, letting the words sink in. "Where is she?"

"There… There's a door, to the left of the stairs. Downstairs. It will take you to her." Thomas was shaking with fear.

"Fine. You can lead the way." And Sam swung Thomas around and pushed him toward the door.

Thomas led Sam down the stairs, through the door, down a small sloping hallway to another solid looking metal door. He pushed the door open and gestured for Sam to go through. But Sam wasn't stupid enough to go through alone, and shoved Thomas ahead of him.

"Are there lights?" Sam asked.

"Of course." Thomas lit the torches around the room without even moving. Toward one side of a dome-shaped room, Kaitlyn lay on the floor.

Sam ran over to her and quickly appraised her condition. He saw the knife in her left side, and a bruised and rapidly swelling wrist. Thomas had been right, she was dying. "Hey there," he whispered with a gentle smile.

Kaitlyn opened her eyes and looked up at him. She frowned for a minute, but then she smiled. "He lied." Her voice was quiet and slightly slurred.

Sam didn't know what she was talking about, but they didn't have time to chat. "We've got to get you out of here."

Kaitlyn shook her head. "Can't. Too tired."

"I'll carry you. You'll be fine."

She smiled appreciatively. Reaching up to touch Sam's face, she thought, We both know how this ends already.

Sam's head dropped and he closed his eyes. "No." Opening his eyes, he spoke with more conviction. "No. Listen to me." You said one of us can heal others. Show me. Show me how.

Kaitlyn considered this for a moment. She honestly didn't know if she had the energy to do it. Sam seemed to know what she was thinking because he said, "Just show me. I'll do all the work."

She nodded.

"We'll have to get this knife out first." Again Kaitlyn nodded and grabbed a fist full of Sam's shirt. When Sam pulled the knife out, Kaitlyn cried out and a shiver ran through her body. She was on the verge of passing out, but Sam pressed down on the knife wound. Another cry escaped her, but it also woke her back up.

"Ok." Sam moved his hand to the side of her head and, for the first time on his own, he forged the deeper connection needed for the exchange of information. She gave him what he needed to do what he had to do, and she started to heal. She could feel the pain lessen and her skin tighten as the edges of the wound closed on themselves, healing the skin.

Kaitlyn glanced up and saw that Thomas was hovering a little too close. "Sam."

Sam looked at Kaitlyn's face, followed her gaze and managed to dodged just as Thomas' hand swooped down in his direction. Sam swept Thomas' feet out from under him and he landed with a thump on the ground. When he didn't move, Sam rolled him over onto his back. Thomas had grabbed the knife while Sam was attending Kaitlyn, intending to kill him. Instead, he impaled himself.

A slow rumbling sound started to grow. Sam looked around and then back at Kaitlyn. She nodded. "We have to leave. His house will crumble now that he's dead."

Sam helped Kaitlyn to her feet and they ran. Debris started falling around them and they had to dodge and duck as they ran toward the door. Kaitlyn tripped several times. Her body felt like lead and her mind was swimming. Too much adrenaline had passed through her body too often in the last couple of days. There just wasn't enough left to keep pushing her forward. Somehow she made it to the entryway. The door was in sight and open, they just had to get there.

Another rumble made them pause and Kaitlyn teetered. Sam crossed the threshold to his mind and turned around. To his surprise, the door between the minds slammed shut. "No!"

He reached for the door and tried to pull it open. Kaitlyn was trying from her side as well. She must have heard something behind her, because he saw her turn. When she looked back at Sam, he saw tears in her eyes. She stepped away from the door and shook her head, "no".

Sam continued to struggle with the door, and tried kicking it in. When he looked back at Kaitlyn, she put her fingers to her lips, kissed them, and gave a slight wave to Sam. Then she pushed with both hands and Sam flew backward away from the door. He hit his head on the ground and everything went dark.

When Sam opened his eyes, he was back in Thomas' hospital room. He shook his head to clear it some.

"Nothing…come on!" Breathe. "Don't do this." Breathe. "Sam!?"

Kaitlyn… Sam stood up and went over to where he knew Dean would be. "Yeah," he whispered. It was enough to let Dean know he was there. Come on…Come on!

Sam squeezed his way, as best he could, into the small area between the wall, bed and Kaitlyn's head. He didn't want to get in the way of what Dean was doing. He could only hope that this would work. He tentatively reached out, combing his fingers through her hair, then resting his hand on the top of her head. He closed his eyes and searched for her, perhaps for the last time. His eyes didn't need to be open because she'd either be in her own body or no where at all. At first, he saw nothing; then slowly a light began to grow, coming from some distance. He smiled and let out the breath he'd been holding. Then her body tensed and she coughed and dry heaved.

Dean rolled her to her side. He looked up at Sam, relief clear in his green eyes. They all breathed a sigh together.

All at once a cacophony of noise broke out around them. Alarms from the various machines blared their warnings, and nurses, attendants and doctors rushed into Thomas' room. Several of the nurses cast curious glances at the trio of visitors. When the first nurse arrived at the room, the men were pulling Kaitlyn off the floor. Even as they were ushered out of the room to give the staff room to work, she looked on the verge of collapse. Several staff members chalked up her disorientation to the long road trip and the stress of losing a family member. Whispers of "poor girl" or "they must have been close" could be heard passing from person to person.

Within five minutes of the start of the activity, it all stopped. The machines were shut off. Thomas was declared dead.

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tbc

A/N - Thanks to all who have journeyed with me through this story - to those who've reviewed, and those who haven't. Thanks to mom for your wonderful editing and cheerleading ability. Special thanks to J.A. Carlton. Yeah, I know, I always thank you, but special thanks for this chapter. You really helped me, allowing me to use you as a sounding board, as well as inspiring new ideas and helping me visualize and cement the ones I had. You really helped get this chapter up and running. Much thanks to you.