Winter brings cooler weather and cooler minds with holidays specially planned to make you happier. New Mexico hadn't gotten the memo this year; nor had we. Temperatures were threatening to burn into the seventies and our tempers were running hotter still.

For four long months, Dean had rotted away in hell, torturing and being tortured. During the one perfect week we'd spent together, I'd realized he was truly my best friend, someone who understood and satisfied the deepest parts of my soul. Yet it had taken exactly one second and one stupid kiss to make me question it all.

That had been three weeks ago.

Since the moment I'd met the Winchesters, Dean and I had bickered like children. It was harmless, just another aspect of our relationship. Never serious, we ended up agreeing more often than not. But not this time. The repressed feelings and unspoken truths had finally festered within us, boiling into a pure, unadulterated hatred.

Every day we seemed to be playing an unwinnable game of who could be the most bothersome. As if it brought us some small amount of relief from the pain inside if we were causing pain to the other. Neither of us were suffering as much as poor Sam though. The little brother and friend who always breached the middle ground between us had refused, giving up the mantle.

He'd never been able to tease out of us what had occurred that day behind the dive bar. We had ridden back together in the Impala but were unable to be in the same room together more than a few minutes. As our self-imposed mediator, he approached things logically and attempted to pick the right side. This time he didn't know who was right or wrong. Torn between his brother and the girl he had once loved, he chose the easy route; he gave up on us. When we finally tore each other to shreds, he could only watch and hope he had the ability to clean up the carnage afterwards.

I still wasn't sure why I had stuck around. I could have saved myself some pain and heartache by striking off on my own again. Was it a sense of loyalty, friendship, or love that made me stay? Perhaps it was the deeper meaning of family I had come to appreciate since falling in with the boys.

In this line of work, there was always a case needing solving and people needing saving. A body had been found with its heart missing, a young man in his prime. With a little digging, it was discovered John had noted identical deaths occurring every ten years in the area like clockwork for the last one hundred years. Personal feelings had no place when evil showed its mangled head. And thus the reason I was crammed into a car with people I both loved and hated with every fiber of my being, sweltering in the heat of a New Mexico winter.

I practically spilled out of the backseat, panting from restraint. My frustration would have bubbled forth in screams if I'd spent one more second in the Impala, listening to hair metal. Dean must have known, annoyingly standing in front of me, twisting to stretch his back. Scowling, I stormed inside the Native American/Southwest themed trading post, making sure to clip his shoulder as I did; hard.

The colorful words following me into the air conditioning were like music to my ears. I drew a deep breath of the cold air into my lungs, not sure if I preferred the sage and patchouli over the boys' cheap aftershave. The clerk, the only occupant, wished me hello but barely lifted his eyes from the worn paperback book he was reading. The interior was split between a gift shop and convenience store, similar to every other store like it in the state.

I had a mental shopping list running in the back of my mind as I perused the aisles. I purposely dragged my feet, decompressing from the ride in. The boys must have been doing the same as I saw Dean pick up almost every toy he could put his hands on. I rolled my eyes, enjoying the turquoise and silver jewelry work in the display cases made by local hands.

My back turned, I crossed into the snack food section when I heard Sam hissing at his brother. I didn't think much of it but should have. A moment later, something soft and pointy bounced off my shoulder. I spun on my heel, catching a pleasantly surprised Dean holding a toy bow and arrow. Barely resisting the urge to strangle him, I made a fist with my middle finger out. Pointing it up and then at him, I made a comment in line with the gesture.

"Later," he hollered back over the aisles, a sickeningly seductive grin on his face. Sam and the store clerk shushed him at the same time. Smirking at my small victory, I grabbed the last thing on my list before heading to the cash register.

The man stood slowly when he saw me approaching, his beaded necklaces tinkling against a large black pendant polished to the point it showed my reflection like glass. He reached for the first item on the counter, giving me a shrewd eye. "You and your friend don't seem to be on the best of terms," he said in a low baritone which reminded me of a wise grandfather though he couldn't have been more than forty-five.

His piercing dark brown eyes caught mine, holding me in place. I swallowed heavily, unsure what to say to this stranger. "I'm sorry we bothered you," I apologized, glancing ever so slightly to where Dean was still playing.

He made a noise deep in his throat. "Your heart seems heavy. Two fates pull at it equally, neither stronger than the other. You're in a constant state of unrest due to this. Your soul will only find rest once you have put a name to these demons and set them free."

His words struck me like a wave, nailing me to the floor as they echoed in my ears. "It's not that easy," I stuttered out, unable to drop our eye contact.

"You have the strength," he assured me, nodding resolutely and severing the link between us.

Deeply unsettled, I clutched the plastic sack he handed me to my chest. I heard the heavy footsteps coming up behind me as I walked back into the heat.

The same shitty motel with the same shitty sheets and two twin beds waited for us. I tried to stop the steam rolling out my ears as I set my bag down on one of the beds. Dean's bag fell next to mine at the same exact moment.

"Hell no," I growled, asserting my claim.

The muscle in his jaw tightened as he towered over me. "Your turn to sleep on the pull out," he said, making it sound like a threat.

"It absolutely is not," I said, clenching fists at my side. I wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch if he kept this up. He'd had the bed last time and I wasn't going to let him boss me around.

His eyes dropped to my hands, his shoulders coiling in response. "Is too," he insisted, grabbing my bag and throwing it on the floor, "now beat it."

"You know what; fight me," I challenged, the edges of my vision turning red as I opened my arms wide in invitation.

A deliciously evil smile curled across Dean's face, the reaction he had been riling me for. "Outside," came Sam's exhausted voice from the other room.

There was an adjacent smoking area with a patch of grass big enough for us to duel. We sized each other up, two professional fighters ready to go for the kill. "You've never taken me in a fight," he taunted, chomping at the bit.

It was a truth I was fully aware of but wouldn't let stop me. "There's a first time for everything," I said coolly, standing with my feet apart. It made me seem unprepared, an attempt to lure him into making the first move. I wanted nothing more than to kick his ass but if he decided to go full force, I would be in trouble.

He made a dismissive noise, turning away. It was an obvious feint, a forming uppercut hidden behind his body. I leaned out of the way, prepared to deflect his opposite throw. I caught it with my forearm, absorbing the force. On the surface, his attacks appeared fierce and at full strength. But the dull ache of my arm spoke to the restraint he used.

We grappled back and forth until our clothes were soaked in sweat and our breathing came in ragged gasps. Our limbs were bruised from numerous blocked kicks and punches, but no real damage had been done. I started to grow tired of the fact that he wasn't even trying. When I saw his next hit lining up, I decided to end it.

Stepping in close, I grabbed his extended arm as it missed my body. Using it as leverage, I jumped in the air and placed his body between my legs. A small rotation of my hips knocked him off balance and sent him crashing to the ground. Taking advantage of the stun, I twisted my body around the arm still in my grasp. One of my heels pressed into his chest, keeping him pinned, while the rest of me tweaked on his arm.

"When the hell did you learn jiu-jitsu?" he spluttered, trying to crane his neck to see my face.

"Bobby taught me a thing or two," I huffed, putting a little more strain on his arm. "Tap out," I ordered. Dean wiggled beneath me, trying to find a way out of my grasp. "Tap out!" I repeated, worried I would pop his shoulder if he kept struggling. We both grunted, too stubborn to give in to the other.

"Bastard," I exhaled loudly, releasing his arm with an aggressive fling. I sucked in angry breaths, mad at myself for letting him go.

Neither of us moved, too tired and hot to bother. "You're soft," he said quietly after a moment, staring into the blue sky.

An amused noise escaped my throat. "Soft for not dislocating your arm?" I quipped, turning my head to stare at him. His uncaring face made me consider dislocating it now.

"Who won?" Sam must have walked up and thought we killed each other. That or he wanted to rub it in.

I raised my arm in the air, ready to die on this hill I'd made. "Short stuff," Dean admitted. I sat up in utter shock.

"Figures," Sam shrugged, turning to leave the same way he came.

We both got up, shouting after him at how we took offense to his comment which started another fight between the two of us. I definitely should have broken his arm to knock him down a peg.

My dreams were filled with the strange, enchanting words the store clerk had said to me. I wandered the aisles of the trading post, the shelves towering towards the ceiling. I felt small beneath them, trapped in an endless maze. Shouting out for anyone to hear me, the man's prophecy echoed louder, covering my cries. A warm fluorescent light flooded the path in front of me, drawing me closer. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, only to find myself at the front counter.

Blinking to clear my vision further, I noticed Dean standing opposite me, similarly blinded. I walked forward, trying to close the distance between us to figure out where we were. But the floor moved to counter me, never gaining any ground no matter how quickly I moved. Exasperated, I decided to stop as it was getting me nowhere. When I tried to speak to Dean, nothing came out. I could see his mouth moving plain as day, but no sounds reached me.

As I prepared to scream, intent on being heard, the clerk's voice grew louder. I whirled trying to decipher where it was coming from. The words became distorted, twisting into unfamiliar chanting I didn't understand. When it seemed to be reaching a fever pitch, my body stiffened on its own with my head tilted to the ceiling. Dean assumed the same position against his will.

A vacuum formed between us, feeling like it might suck my soul out of my body. Perhaps this was the point. Like a stretched rubber band snapping, I was propelled out of my body and across the room. Midway through the air, I caught eyes with Dean's soul being flung in the opposite direction. Chanting drowned out all thought as I forcefully collided with his body.

I startled awake with a sharp inhaling breath. God, it had felt so vibrant, I was almost convinced I'd woken up in another body. The faint traces of morning light was seeping across the shag carpet from underneath the curtains as I shuffled out of bed.

I headed to the bathroom, the occurrence of blinding light giving me a sense of déjà vu. Wanting to wash the feeling of sweat off my face, I turned on the tap water. Giving my skin a light scrub, I fished around for a towel. As I wiped the wetness from my face, I slowly looked into the mirror to check my reflection.

A strange man's image is what greeted me.

I let loose a yell, terrified at the idea someone might be watching me from behind the door. In my shock, I back peddled without thinking, tripping over the edge of the tub, and careening into the shower. Curses escaped my mouth as my head collided with the soap holder, the curtain falling on top of me.

"Avery?" a panicked voice called out, the bathroom door nearly flying off its hinges from the force. Its owner ripped off the shower curtain, starting at the sight of me.

"Dean?" I questioned. Standing over me was a blonde woman with candy apple green eyes, wearing only a black t-shirt and boxers.

I craned my neck at Sam, who was very much himself, seeking answers. "What the hell did you guys do?" he asked, gaze flipping between us.