Sam studied the text message--the coordinates were the same ones that had appeared on his brother's cellphone as Sam was preparing their panicked flight from Charleston--then looked at Dean, who looked grimly determined.
"Dean?" Sam's brother looked back at him, but didn't seem to see him. Sam felt a tingle of apprehension, but he wasn't sure why.
"Look up the coordinates, Sam, and let's get on the road."
"Says the man flat on his back in the bed," Sam covered his unease with sarcasm. "In case it's escaped your notice, bro, you were pretty close to being dead less than 12 hours ago."
Sarah chose this moment to step in, stopping Dean's half-formed reply by lifting her hand. "Hold on, both of you. First, neither of you Winchesters is going anywhere until you've had a couple of days' rest. Second, you need a plan."
"I have a plan, and it consists of killing this evil sonofabitch," retorted Dean.
The psychic rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Rambo. You'll get your shot, but I want to make sure you're prepared."
"We know what we're doing," said Dean defensively.
"I'm not saying you don't. I'm saying that I can probably give you more information on what this thing is and what it wants."
Sam looked interested. "Are you picking something up from handling the cell phone?"
Sarah nodded. "Yeah, but it's hard to pin down." She turned to Dean. "When that thing threw you against the wall in Charleston, do you remember where it touched you?"
Dean looked nonplussed by the question but he answered, "It felt like it grabbed me by the front of my jacket and tossed me backward." After a moment's thought, he added, "And then I felt something cold touch the back of my neck when we were running to the car--just before we reached it."
Sam's eyes widened, and Sarah approached the bed. "Do you mind if I sit?" she asked, and Dean slid over a bit, making room. "Where did it touch you, exactly?" Dean indicated a spot just below the hairline on the back of his neck, and Sarah lifted her hand, pausing to ask, "May I?" Dean looked at her warily, then sighed and gave a short nod. Sarah pressed her hand to the spot and closed her eyes.
Sam managed to suppress his laughter at Dean's obviously embarrassed discomfort. Dean caught him smiling, though, and scowled.
After a moment, Sarah's eyes opened. "I think you boys have attracted the attention of an honest-to-goodness demon," she said.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "Attracted, how?" asked Sam. Sarah looked surprised.
"Well, the usual way, of course..." she stopped when she realized that neither brother had the foggiest idea of what she was talking about. Blue eyes focused on Sam.
"Didn't Missouri--well, she probably didn't have an opportunity to, with everything that was going on, but still..." Sarah paused, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. Missouri had told Sarah everything about the Winchester family when she had called that morning, but Sarah had sensed some hesitation in her friend's voice, as though she were witholding something...protecting someone. The psychic sighed.
"Look, you know things have been happening to you lately, right?" Dean's eyes flew to Sam's face, concerned. The younger Winchester's jaw clenched, but he nodded.
Sarah continued, "Has anyone ever read your auras for you?" Hearing Dean's derisive snort, she fixed him with a firm glare. "It's what I do, how I can tell what's wrong with the people who come here for help."
"Dean..." warned Sam. Dean made a sceptical face but subsided.
"Your aura," she said, indicating Sam, "is practically a beacon to anything with an appetite for power. Fortunately, most of the dark creatures you hunt are nowhere near strong enough to do anything about it, so the main effect of your power is that spirits are attracted to you--with all the fun stuff that entails, like prophetic dreams and a slightly higher vulnerability to possession."
"But there are some things, real demons, who want to use that power for themselves--either to gain permanent physical access to this plane, or to enhance their ability to cause pain and suffering once they're here. We're lucky that only a very few of them manage to break the barrier that keeps them from this world--they can cause enough trouble in non-corporeal form, as you know--but occasionally some do. I think that the thing that's after you sees Sam as its ticket into this world, and is trying to maneuver you into a position where it can tap into Sam's power and use it to push through the barrier."
Sam was frowning. "So why did it attack Dean?"
"Ah, and here's where it gets interesting." Sarah looked at Dean. "Your aura is the equivalent of a red flag to a bull--a dare or a challenge. Any demon who noticed Sam would immediately see you as the main obstacle to its goal, and react accordingly." Sarah stood, pacing a little as she spoke.
"But the really special thing about you two is the way your auras compliment one another--it's like they work in tandem, the stronger compensating for the weaker when necessary. You sometimes see this in twins or twin souls, but it's very rare. You can't get to Sam without going through Dean, and vice-versa. It makes you extremely effective hunters, and explains why you both seem to recover so quickly from injuries and attacks. And any demon would be driven almost mad by the thought of what it could do if given access to your combined power." Sarah stopped pacing and directed a serious look at Sam.
"I think this thing figured Dean would be out of the picture by now--and that it would have gained enough of his strength to help it break Sam. This last set of coordinatesare meant to bring Sam to the place where the demon intends to enter this world."
Dean realized he was staring at Sarah with his mouth open, so he closed it and cleared his throat. "Okay, so we go to the coordinates and...what? Purify the site and hope that closes the barrier?"
Sam shook his head. "No. It would just keep trying until it found another site. We've got to let it break through and kill it."
"No way, Sammy. Didn't you hear her? It's a freaking demon! Silver bullets and rock salt won't touch it, exorcism won't send it back once it has a body, and I'm not real keen on the idea of going a few rounds hand-to-hand with the thing."
"Fire. Fire will destroy it." Sam had a strange look in his eyes, and Dean's gaze turned wary in response.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do, Dean." Dark eyes focused on hazel. "Trust me."
Dean blew out a breath and threw up his hands, looking back to Sarah. "And your expert opinion?" he asked.
"I think Sam's right," she said.
"I have another question," Dean continued, "why is this happening now? Why is Sammy all of a sudden psychic boy after 22 years of, well, being normal?" Dean avoided his brother's incredulous reaction to his use of the word "normal" in conjunction with their family.
Sarah smiled and shrugged. "Who knows? Psychic puberty?"
Dean grinned. "I always knew you were a late bloomer, Sammy."
He barely managed to duck the pillow that Sam chucked at his head.