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She was distracted all through class, hitting all the wrong notes like some novice. She ignored the pointed looks she was getting and overlooked a few snide comments she overheard being whispered about her. Her classmates were competitive, it came with the territory. Jack slummed through the class and was the first out the door, hiding behind a stairwell in the hallway. When she saw the Professor and the T.A. leave she slipped back and caught the toe of her shoe in the door before it closed and locked automatically. If it had locked she would have just picked it, Jack found herself thinking as she dropped her bag to the floor and went to the piano, taking a seat.

Jack looked down at her delicate hands. Hands that had never picked a lock in their lives and she felt her fingers buzz with the knowledge that she could do it if she wanted to. She shook her head and lifted the wood to run her finger over the top of the keys. She needed to relax and working with her hands always relaxed her.

Jack took a deep breath and started tapping the opening notes to a favorite song of hers.

"I find it kind funny, I find it kinda sad/The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…"

She sang softly her thoughts turning t o the oddness she'd been experiencing since coming to Kansas. Her fingers faltered on a note and she found that she didn't know which came next. She didn't remember any of them.

Jack was sitting on a bench close to where she'd had her first run in with Sam the day before. She got as far the campus and then stopped, unable to will herself to actually go to the other classes. She looked down at her black sneakers, kicking her feet against the bottom of the bench. She started humming a song under her breath, tried to get a grip on how lost she was feeling.

"Jack." She looked up and saw Sam jogging towards her with Dean trailing close behind. Jack waved weakly to the brothers.

"Does that hurt?" Dean asked grazing his fingers over the bruise the corner of her temple t hat disappeared into her hair. It felt so familiar and natural for him to do it that he didn't blink at the action and Jack didn't shrug off the probing touch kike she would have with anyone else.

"No its amazing. I always had a thing for falling down the stairs." She replied sarcastically.

"Pain." Dean said poking her bruise.

"Ow!" Jack hit him hard in the chest.

"How'd things go at the hospital?" Jack asked turning to Sam.

"Great we found out Sam really is a girl." Dean cracked earning a death glare from Sam.

"Fine, they said nothings wrong with me." Sam replied.

"What happened?" Jack asked him gesturing for them to sit down on the bench.

"Don't know. Passed out last night after I got home." Sam said sitting down. He looked at the ground in front of him. "Maybe I just had too much to drink."

"You only had like two beers." Jack frowned.

Sam shrugged and rubbed his head, which killed. He looked around them, suddenly feeling too exposed and out in the open.

"Come on." He said getting up from his seat.

The other two followed him without question. He led them towards the library. Once there he kept walking till they were in the far back of the place where few people ventured. As he'd hoped it was empty. He'd always thought it was a little odd that the place he felt most comfortable on the whole campus was the Occult section of the library. Sam sat down against one of the stacks, his back resting comfortably against the tomes. Dean raised an eyebrow at him running a finger along the spine of a book and leaned against the bookshelf facing Sam with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I went to dad's office, I don't know why, I just felt like I had to," Sam started and he blurted out everything that he could remember from the night before fixating on a spot on the floor. He finished and took a deep breath. He was crazy, now they both knew it and he was going to be told to seek professional help.

"What time was it?" Jack asked.

"What?" Sam looked up and caught her serious look.

"What time was it when it happened?" Jack repeated urgently.

"I don't know, around twelve thirty I think. Right after we dropped you off." Sam said shrugging.

Jack nodded and scrubbed her hand over her face. She said, "That's about when I passed out and fell down the stairs. I don't remember much after going inside."

"That's when I felt…" Dean trialed off not knowing how to describe what he'd felt.

"What? What happened Dean?" Sam asked sitting up straighter.

"I don't know. Geeze Sammy," Dean blew out a breath. He hated this shit. "I had this feeling like….I thought something might be wrong with you and I-

"Had a panic attack?" Sam supplied.

"No!" Dean replied vehemently. "I was concerned and knew I had to get over here."

"Did you pass out?" Jack asked.

"No I-" Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because that was when the walls started to flicker.

Dean was in the car, sitting in the passenger side, dozing as they passed a lot of nothing. He looked out the window and knew somehow that he was in Texas, driving- driving to- nowhere. They had a couple days of wandering aimlessly, just driving for the hell of it. He felt peaceful. He looked at Sam watching the road and arguing in light tones with someone in the backseat at the same time. Dean turned in his seat to see Jack laughing and shaking her head at Sam while he nodded up and down, contesting whatever it was she was saying. Dean couldn't hear their words clearly, he thought he heard something about Resident Evil being underrated from Sam and Jack telling him he was an idiot.

Dean smiled and pushed his sunglasses down. His brother laughed and Dean heard himself think that his brother didn't do that nearly enough.

Then the conversation turned to a topic that should have been more disturbing than it was.

"Favorite way to kill a werewolf?" Jack asked.

"Classic silver bullets. Its quick and less messy." Sam replied.

"Beheading sounds cooler when you brag about bagging a werewolf." Dean said.

"Who are you going to brag too? Its just us." Jack pointed out.

"You know, chat rooms, blogs, the occasional drunk waitress…."

"Tell me you're not serious." Sam said looking over at Dean.

"Dean….?"

"Dean?!"

"Dean?!" Sam was shaking his brother by his shoulders, calling his name over and over.

One second Dean was talking to them then his eyes went wild and glazed over seconds later, Dean going completely still. He'd looked straight ahead like he was seeing something that wasn't there. Dean had slumped backwards and Sam caught him by the shoulders before his head hit the bookshelf. He looked up at Jack who'd moved silently to the edge of the stacks to keep watch for anyone coming their way. Sam thought for a second about calling for help but he waved away the thought. Nothing good came of getting outsiders involved. Instead he took the keys to the Impala from his brother's pocket and tossed them in Jack's direction. She caught them and nodded, leaving without being asked to get the car and bring it round.

He had to get Dean out the back, Sam thought. He hoisted his brother up, one shoulder under Dean's unresponsive form to support him. He had a feeling like this wasn't the first time he'd done this. He was working completely from instinct.

John parked the truck two miles from the house and took a path he'd marked on a map of the area. It was a secluded path in the best of weather, in the snow, during winter it was completely abandoned. He skulked around the area, watching for signs that things were awry. He had nightmare visions in his head about everything that could have possibly happened, all of which were completely plausible given their line of work.

It had been days. Days since the fight with Dean and days since the horrible feeling in his gut started. He hoped he wasn't too late. Right then John would rather find that he was paranoid than think that he was too late.

John drew his guns from his coat as he got closer. From his focal point in the edge of the woods John noticed too things; that the Impala was covered in at least two days worth of snow and that there were footprints in the snow a few feet away going from the tree line to the house. Growling under his breath at the thought of the mystery intruder John walked forward, stealthily.

He kept low and to the shadows cast by the setting sun as he neared the steps and stuck to the sides as he ascended them. John checked the door, finding it unlocked. That more than anything else convinced him that something was terribly wrong, Dean would never make such an amateur mistake. Neither would Sam or Jack.

Dean was being pulled in two directions. One guided by brother's voice, worried and insistent and the other by the sound of a blood curdling scream. He jerked back to himself and struggled for a brief moment. He was being carried, or half carried anyway by someone taller than him.

"Dean its okay, man." Sam said urgently compensating for Dean's outburst so he wouldn't lose his footing and send them both tumbling to the ground. Halfway down the steps to the emergency back exit Dean snapped out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. Jack got out from behind the wheel to help him out but Dean shrugged them both off and pulled away, turning his back to the two so he could catch his breath.

Dean felt his heart pound a mile a minute. Everything was distorted, twitching in and out of focus. Like a movie that's film was breaking mid-scene.

Sam and Jack waited for him to regain his composure, the minutes blending into one another.

Dean turned back to them and opened his mouth. He was interrupted by a scream that echoed all around them.

Dean's mouth snapped closed. He ran to his car, taking the keys out of the ignition and crossed around to the trunk. Dean popped the trunk unsure of what to expect when he opened it. He felt a grim sort of satisfaction mixed with surprise to reach in and pop a secret compartment to reveal more weapons than he'd ever seen before. No, he thought reaching for a silver handgun that fit his hand like it was made to go there, you've seen these before. He recalled that the gun was a Colt M1911. One of his favorites guns, his father's old gun.

"Sam, Jack. Arm up." Dean said automatically.

"Where did you get all these?" Sam said with wide eyes.

"I don't know, I think-I think I had them all along." Dean said looking his brother in the eye.

"This is mine." Sam said picking up a knife that had a thick metal hand grip and a curving razor sharp blade. Sam picked it up looking at it in wonder, like greeting an old friend he wasn't sure he wanted to see again.

"Mine." Jack said pick up two mother of pearl handled .45's each inscribed with Latin along the barrels. She gave the boys a dangerous smile.

"This is fucked up." Sam said even as he reached for a black Berreta. He checked the clip, popped it back in place and took off the safety.

Another scream cut through the air and they looked at one another before setting off side by side, falling quickly the sounds of terror. It was the first time Sam noticed that the campus was empty. They were the only ones in sight.

"What are we doing?" He asked softly looking around him.

"I don't know." Jack answered.

They entered the building the screams were coming from, confronting the lies they had been trapped in.

TBC…….

AN: That's right, I'm Back in Black kiddies. I'll have the next chapter up before I leave for GA on Monday. I'm off to write for the other story now. Happy Holidays!