A/N: I just wanted to give a quick thanks to everyone who reviewed. Mystery927, I appreciate your detailed reviews, you've given me a lot of tips and always cheered me up. Ghostwriter, thanks for keeping with the story and your encouraging reviews. Also, ashylns, Nate And Jake, Mistro and Daquiri, and supernaturalandlostfan. And anyone else I missed! Promise, I won't drag the story out for much longer!

Time seemed to have stopped. There was life before I'd wound up in that place, growing up, on the road with Dean. And then there was life in that chamber. That was where thoughts of what could have become of me played over and over in my mind, like some sick movie I couldn't get away from. There'd been a time in my life, a recent time, that I believed I would actually escape the Winchester family. That hunting evil spirits would be a distant memory.

Secretly, I always knew I could never get rid of what I was. In those journal entries Dean had talked about being the freak. But, as I laid on that concrete and bawled, I realized I was just as much one as him. I tried to deny it, but the truth was right there.

My head had begun to hurt. After several long minutes, I'd finally composed myself. My eyes had dried and I'd put on one of Dean's faces. The one that said "I don't care. I'm not telling anyone what I am feeling."

Sitting there, I got why my older brother had used that expression so often. It gave him a false sense of comfort. It made others think he really was alright; it led him down a path to believing nothing bad could come out of the job he was forced to have.

Silently, I wondered if he had that face on then. If he was searching that house, kicking open door after door, emotionless. Thinking of Dean made me feel, by that point, like I was being shot in the heart over and over again. I wanted him to know so badly. Let him know that I loved him and everything I said the other day was my anger speaking, not me.

I glared above me. That damn door. It taunted me. Stared back at me, pushing me to try and get to it. It knew I would fail.

"Dean," I said aloud. Talking seemed to be the only thing keeping me from going mad. "Dean, I'm so sorry. Please find me...I love you. I was an ass, but now I know better. I promise I won't take advantage of you anymore, as long as you get me out of here. I know you can. You're a perfect hunter." Talking to an imaginary Dean felt easier than the real person. I knew before the kidnapping I would never have been able to tell him the things I kept hidden. But, things had changed.

Hearing nothing after my long speech somehow made me angry. A part of me guessed that was how Dean would react. By not saying anything. Being too afraid to have a "chick flick moment."

I heard a few of my bones crack as I shifted from my uncomfortable position on my back. The thought of my entire left side being broken or sprained doubled my anxiety.

Just as I was about to spew another long rant to absolutely nothing, I heard a small creak from above me. Was I going mad? I had to be. Crying for long intervals, apologizing to someone who wasn't there, hearing things.

But then I heard another one. Had Dean come back? Had he figured out I was down here? My hopes took a horrible drop as I heard the sound of a female's voice. It was the girl. The one who had hit me with a shovel and dragged me to my death. Shivering, one part of me prayed she'd leave, and the other hoped she'd open the latch. Maybe drop some food or water. Anything to keep me alive for alittle while longer.

As I was debating whether to let out another scream, I heard an unmistakable voice. Fear gripped me. Had she captured Dean also? Praying harder then ever, I started pacing the room. It sounded like the two were talking. Then...movement. A lot of it. They were moving something. It sounded heavy.

Whatever it was, it was right above the latch. I stopped walking, my heart beating so loud I was sure they could hear it in the room.

There was a pause. My breathing temporarily stopped. Suddenly, I caught the sound of a grunt. A faint line of light began to fill the room. The light became larger. Soon I was able to see my hands and arms. Although I wished I couldn't. My right side was caked in dirt and dried mud, whereas my left arm had deep cuts that were covered in dried blood. Under my elbow was a long red strip, stopping about three inches above my wrist.

I chose not to look at my leg, instead titlting my head up to the light. Was the girl coming back for a second round?

"I think I see him moving,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he's standing...that's good."

I tried to follow the two voices, but they were talking too fast. One was Dean's, but the other...it did not sound like the person who had thrown me in that place. No, instead it sounded like...Anna's. But it couldn't be. I'd heard the girl fight her. Heard her fall to the ground, her attacker letting out a chilling laugh.

"Sam?" Dean's voice again. Finally, all parts of the door was pushed aside. I knew Dean had to use every ounce of strength to move it. When the evil bastard had opened it the first time, I'd noticed it had to weigh at least thirty pounds. I guessed hiding it under the queen sized bed wasn't enough, they wanted to take extra percaution in securing the place.

I tried to yell, but my throat wouldn't allow it. The light shining down was so bright. My eyes had been so accustomed to the darkness, the newfound brightness was killing them.

"Oh God, he can't hear me," I heard my brother say to the girl.

Attempting to call out to him, all that escaped from my lips was a measly groan. And God it hurt to do that much.

I was finally able to open my eyes. Replacing the door were two dark figures. Both looked so far away.

My mind processed who they were. Dean. One of them was Dean. He'd come to save me. He was going to rescue me.

All at once I tried to tell him every thing I'd thought about while stuck down there. I wanted to tell him how much I needed him before he left again. As long as I told him I'd be alright. My conscience would leave me alone for good.

"Sam, listen to me, we're going to get you out of there. Just be patient. We're going to find some rope."

Again I wondered if this was all a sick dream my head was taunting me with.

"Should we leave the door open?"

"No, if she sees it she'll know we're here."

Vaguely, I saw Dean frown. But it passed as quickly as it came. I wished more than ever I could have known what he was thinking. Turning to look back at me, his voice had changed; had become softer.

"Sammy, we have to go. The door is gonna have to be put back on. But, I promise...we'll be back. Just stay with me."

My eyes grew wide. They were leaving? They couldn't. I was going to die if they left. How could Dean do that to me. Just desert me.

He must have seen my worried expression, because the guy turned back a moment, then threw something down at me. It was so small.

Confused, I bent down and picked the object up.

"See, little bro. I won't leave here without you. Just give me some time to find what I need and kill the son of a bitch that did this to you."

He gave me one last long look and both him and the female moved out of the doorway. A moment later the piece of wood was back over my only escape. And following it was the sound of the bed being moved back.

Sitting down again, I closed my eyes. I hoped Dean could find what he needed soon. Before whatever was out there decided to speed up my death.

Cursing Dean for being so stupid as to throw away his only means of escape, I clenched my fist tighter. Feeling the cool metal of the Chevy's keys against my skin brought a new sense of comfort to me.

-------

"Your car keys? What if we need them!" Anna whispered in my ear. I was straining to hear any unusual sound coming from the hall. The last we'd seen of that chick she was still in the living room, but I was sure she had to have heard our conversation with Sam.

"Listen, it took me too long to find Sam. I'm not leaving this house until he's with me."

"I heard you the first time. But what if there's no rope here. What if you have to go buy some?"

"Trust me, a place like this will have some sort of rope."

"How can you be sure?"

I stopped walking. It was taking all my effort not to just tell Anna to shut the hell up and let me be. But she knew more about what had taken Sam than I did, and didn't want to piss her off.

Thankfully, she noticed my impatience and stopped the inquiry. My heart never wanted to leave Sam. When Anna pulled me into that bedroom and moved the bed, I was shocked. There it was. Cut out of the tan carpet was a wooden board in the shape of a square. Upon pulling it off and seeing Sam down there, so far down, caused my emotions to go into overdrive.

One part of me wanted to go after the girl, to find and torture whatever had put my brother through so much pain. The other, just as insane part of me, wanted to jump down into that hole, to hold unto Sam until he was better.

But the days of me just hugging my brother and giving him false expectations were over. I had to be resonable. Find a way to get him out and take him to a hospital.

When the light gave me a good view of him, I knew we were tempting time. All the cuts and scrapes looked pretty infected. And why wouldn't they be? He was enclosed in a living bacteria cell.

Anna's outstretched arm forced me back to the present. We had made our way back to the hallway and were taking our chances.

"Anna, do you knowanything about that physco girl in there?" I whispered.

Anna looked at me, wide eyed. "Yeah. I can tell you Sam was wrong. It wasn't Lacy's ghost that was killing all those people. It was most definitly a human."

Thinking over what Anna had just said, I pulled out the locket. "Is it this girl?"

Taking the necklace, the teenager's alarmed face increased. "Where'd you get this?"

"I found it in the bedroom."

Instantly I was pushed into the nearest room. Anna had shoved me; hard. Once we were locked inside yet another room, this time being a bathroom, Anna freaked out.

"Do you know what Michelle was looking for back in the living room?"

I remained silent.

"This!" Anna pushed the locket in my face. "She was looking for this! Don't you get it!"

Shaking my head, I continued to stare at the girl, alittle frightened.

"That's why she's been doing all that stuff! She's obsessed with Lacy!"

"WHO?" I hissed. I was not accustomed to women yelling and bossing me around like Anna was. I allowed it to go on for awhile, but by then I'd had enough.

Anna pulled back. Her stern face turned soft, and for the second time that morning I thought she was going to cry. But, just like last time, the teenager composed herself and continued on.

"She used to be my friend. Her and Jenna. But then, Mark got killed and Jenna swore it was Michelle's fault. We sorta broke up after that. I never dreamed it was her."

"Michelle?" My voice was strained. As with all suffering victoms, Anna had to take her sweet time in explaining the story.

"Yes. When Tommy died, everyone denied that she was responsible. But it really was her. She killed all those guys!"

I frowned. Sam had chased after Lacy's spirit, not some teenage serial killer.

Anna went on. "I don't know how she did it. The whole town thought she was an angel. Made great grades, volunteered. She was every mother's dream child. Only Jenna and I knew that she cut. She used to say it was because Tommy made her. But we both knew it was to escape the way he hurt her."

"So, that's why she killed him?" I asked, utterly confused.

"I guess. It makes perfect sense. She adored Lacy. Was always talking about her parents knowing her. So I guess when Tommy started hurting her, she was scared she'd end up like Lacy. But still, I don't see why she'd go and kill Mark...and Dave."

"Wait," by that point the girl was leaning against the bathroom wall, her whole body shaking. "Dave? I don't know..?"

"He was my boyfriend," Anna interrupted. "The three guys were friends, like us three girls. I guess when Tommy started hitting Michelle, the others followed suit."

My heart went out for the girl. I used to see a girl at one of my high schools who was beat up by her boyfriend; back then I felt strongly against it, and time only increased that belief.

"So, that girl...Michelle..she took out people who abused the people they loved?"

Anna nodded.

Although I wanted to tell the girl that I believed what she had told me, I wasn't buying the story. Sam had a good instinct, he wouldn't have gone hunting unless he knew what it was he was going after. And from the brief articles I'd read on-line, the killings began long before Michelle was old eniugh to carry something of that length out.

Something else was going on.

"How could that girl carry a very fit college student over twenty miles through the woods at night?"

I didn't mean to sound so ugly when I asked, but the question had popped into my head, and I was sick of wasting time.

Anna considered. "I'm not sure. But she did. I saw it with my own eyes."

The truth soared in front of my eyes.

"Shit."

"What?"

Rumaging through my bags, I realized the rock salt and lighter fluid would do no good. Kicking myself in the ass for leaving Dad's journal in the car, I groaned. In my rush to get into the house I hadn't checked to see if the journal was safely in my jacket. And Sam had my keys.

"Shit," I said again.

Searching through my bag, I found a small glimpse of hope. I'd forgotten to take the bottle of holy water out of my pack the last time we used it. It had slipped my mind. Thank God for fate.

Turning to Anna I decided she needed to know the truth if she was going to be with me on the expidition.

"Okay, Anna. You were partially right."

"Huh?"

"It was Michelle who killed all the people. And she did drag Sam into that cell. But it also wasn't her."

"I don't understand."

"You said Michelle cut herself. Meaning she had a weakness. And she was able to carry Sam that whole way. But it wasn't her doing it."

"Wait a minute, are you saying...?"

"That Lacy Wilson's spirit is possessing her? Yeah."