"I Felt It… Every Second Of It" takes place after Season 1, Ep 9, "Home", and Season 1, Ep 10, "Asylum". Isabeau can't sleep after witnessing the death of Mary.

Recommended Song: Nightmares by brother sundance

Isabeau flipped through the pages of her grimoire, not really paying attention to the contents of the pages. She bit her lip as she sat on the roof of the impala, her leg bouncing up and down.

Sleep was tugging at her eyes, begging her to submit to their will. But she wouldn't let it happen. If she fell asleep, the event of Mary's death would flash through her mind and even more remind her body of what pain she felt.

"Four days."

Isabeau whipped her head up to see Dean and Sam walking up to her, both of them still in their day clothes. Isabeau raised a brow at Dean's words, "What?"

Dean sighed as he and his brother stopped in front of her, "You haven't slept in four days, Beau. Usually you'll push it to three at the most. Never past that… What's going on?"

Isabeau looked back down at her book, shrugging, not wanting to meet their eyes, "Nothing. Just don't feel like sleeping is all."

Sam shook his head, "Beau, come on."

"Nothing is wrong." Isabeau repeated.

"Beau-"

Isabeau slammed her book shut, interrupting him, "Nothing!" She shouted, surprising not only Sam and Dean at her sudden outburst, but herself as well.

She pursed her lips, and sighed, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to shout."

Silence hung in the air between them and Isabeau didn't dare to look at their faces. She rarely ever shouted at them, even when she was dealing with her own inner turmoil.

Dean made his way and sat down next to her, bumping her shoulder with his, "This is about what happened at the house?"

Isabeau turned her head towards him and Dean raised a brow at her, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Isabeau nodded, fiddling with her rosary as Sam took a seat on the other side of her. Isabeau swallowed thickly, "I made a mistake. It was my first time using that part of my power and I made a stupid mistake."

"No one said witchcraft was easy." Sam said, remembering all the times Bartholmieu would explain the craft to him. Even the most experienced witches had their moments.

Isabeau scoffed, "Witchcraft should be easy for me. Especially with all the training I went through… but, I still messed up… What I saw when I went back, it was horrifying."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, shifting in their spots. "That's why you haven't been sleeping?" Sam asked.

"Every time I close my eyes I'm in her body. I'm feeling everything that Mary did. I felt the fire against her skin. Never once has fire hurt me, I can never feel that burning sensation against my flesh. But for the first time, I felt it crawling against my skin, burning me." Isabeau's voice wavered as she spoke.

Dean's fist clenched at his sides. Hearing Isabeau relive his mother's death was something that made him sick to his stomach.

Sam was close to being sick himself. Jess died the same way his mother did and the fear of Isabeau ending up the same made him want to empty the contents of his stomach in the nearest trash can.

"I felt everything. Her pain, her fear… whatever this thing is that killed her, that killed Jess too… It's cruel. It's evil." Isabeau's lip quivered.

"I can't sleep because I feel like I'm dying. That's why I haven't slept for days. I'm scared. I'm terrified that..." Isabeau trailed off, "I'll end up like them."

Dean and Sam looked at her in shock. Isabeau tried to always keep her fears to herself. She never wanted to seem weak, to let her fear take the best of her.

Dean slung his arm over Isabeau's shoulders, bringing her into his chest, "It's okay, Isabeau. We won't let that happen."

Dean looked over at his brother, "Will we, Sammy?"

Sam blinked away whatever tears started to form and swallowed, composing himself, "We won't." He grabbed Isabeau's hand, squeezing it tight, "That'll never happen, Isabeau. Never."

Isabeau smiled a little at their words. She knew that they would certainly try their best to prevent it from ever happening. Deep down, they were just words and they were never set in stone. Nothing ever is.