Disclaimer: Don't own either of the boys (my nights would be a lot more fun if I did) and don't own anything to do with Supernatural. I just get to play with them occasionally. The quote, of course, is from the episode 'Bloody Mary' and was written by someone much better than me and who actually gets paid to play with Sam and Dean and to put them in life-threatening situations. Lucky sods.

The ride down had been uneventful. After hitching a lift from a local, Dean and Sam had arrived at the start of the trail that led down from the road and towards the lake. The browns and greens of early autumn blended with the deep blue of the lake to create a sight that was postcard peaceful. Birds flashed past quickly and in the distance three canoes set the pace of a leisurely paddle.

It was a scene so drenched in tranquil that it set Sam's teeth on edge. He was becoming surer that this place was being used as camouflage. Since they had first arrived in the area the feeling that there was something evil underneath the surface had been growing. It was like being a radio tower constantly set to receive. The signal was there, slowly building with the rumbling roil of a thunderstorm. Sam felt as if he were standing at the edge of a storm front while the air around him sparked with ionisation.

Something was coming. He could smell it.

"Well, if this isn't the centre of all evil. Watch yourself Sammy, a game of football may break out any minute. Hey, are those guys there about to start a picnic? Evil bastards." Dean smirked as they walked slowly across the grass to the small jetty. The three canoes were now nothing more than specks in the distance.

"Come on, let's walk around to the other side. That's were the boy was seen last." Sam headed off, and with a quirk of the eyebrow, Dean followed.

"Not an unpleasant place to come to waste some time, but you seem gung-ho about this all of a sudden. How come?"

Sam shrugged unconvincingly, "No reason. Just interested I guess."

Dean waited a beat. "Interested. Right. And this is just the normal wander around a pretty lake interest, right, as opposed to the Jonathan Edwards kind of interest? You'd just let me know in advance if I need to worry about my eyeballs bleeding okay?"

"Hey man," Sam glanced over quickly, "I'd never keep secrets like that."

"Yeah," came the murmured reply from his back, "sure."

Sam winced as he kept along the path that led around the lake. He could hear the reservation in Dean's voice, even if he didn't say it out loud. Yes, he was guilty of keeping things from Dean. Things he had thought weren't important to anyone else but him, things that had just been…private.

Frustration showed on Dean's face, "Ah, you know that's it." The rain beat down as the Impala slid to a stop on the side of the road.

"This is about Jessica isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret? That you killed her somehow?" Sam was stared straight ahead, resigned. "Sam this has gotta stop man. I mean the nightmares and…and…callin' her name out in the middle of the night. It's gonna kill you." Dean's voice deepened, "Now listen to me – it wasn't your fault. If you want to blame something blame the thing that killed her. Aw hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

Sam looked at him sharply, "I don't blame you."

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself. There was nothing you could'a done."

"I could have warned her."

Dean glared at his brother in exasperation, "About what? You didn't know it was gonna happen! And besides all of this isn't a secret. I mean, I know all about it. It isn't going to work with Mary anyway."

"No you don't." Sam murmured.

"I don't what?"

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."

Amazement and disbelief stole across Dean's face, "What are you talkin' about?"

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

The dreams he had had of Jess dying like that, the dreams he had ignored, were his own to bear. He didn't want to share them with anyone, especially Dean.

All he'd ever wanted was to be normal, to fit in with everyone else. He didn't want to be the one who was different, to be the odd child who never used the same last name twice, and whose transcript had huge chucks of weeks and months missing. He'd always been the freaky kid, who acted funny and said the wrong things at the wrong moments. But he'd been able to tolerate because he hadn't been alone. He'd had his brother.

If there was one person in the world he wouldn't be able to handle looking at him like that, it was Dean. It had always been the two of them against the world.

Until it wasn't.

When he'd left he'd burnt his bridges, a lot of them with Dean. He'd been the one to start a new life that didn't include his older brother. He'd turned himself into 'Joe College' and in some ways he still wanted to hang onto that rather than turn back into a freak. He didn't want the world to see him that way again and he most goddamn certainly didn't want his brother see him as any weirder that he already did.

'Course after some of the weird shit that had been happening recently, he was pretty sure that in Dean's mind he'd become the mayor of Freaksville.

They had almost quartered the circumference of the lake and the canoes were closer now. The terrain had become rougher and the undergrowth denser. Sam led the way with Dean directly behind him. They couldn't keep this up much longer, the sun beginning to set and they needed to try and hitch a ride with someone at the campsite back to town. Otherwise they'd be hiking it back, and there was no way that Dean would leave that alone. Sam flicked the hair out of his eyes. If they had to walk back to Greenville, Dean'd ride it – and Sam – for weeks.

"So I think we'd better…what the…!" Sam began.

"Shhh," Dean hushed as he pulled Sam behind a tree. "Quit stompin' around and listen. Over there." They could hear it moving in the bushes, with sudden, hasty bursts of speed. "Go; head it off at the lake. I'll circle 'round back."

Sam nodded and moved ahead of the sound. The rustling was constant but uneven, as if whatever if was had begun to stumble. He found a small group of rocks near the water's edge and crouched low. A moment later, a dark hunched figure burst out of the underbrush and staggered down to the edge of the lake. Sam came carefully out from behind the rocks to head it off. Dean burst out behind it, causing the figure to swing around and collapse to the ground.

Dean had his gun out and aimed steadily as the figure reared back up again.

"Must run..." the gasps were almost inaudible.

"What…what did you say?" Sam took a step closer.

"Sammy! Stay back." Dean circled around, never losing his bead on the dark and bloodied outline and never letting Sammy get in his line of fire. "Hey dude, you're looking a little worse for wear. Wanna sit down and tell us about it?"

"Must…" from somewhere the figure gathered a burst of speed and bolted down the lake shore, heading south for the campsite.

"Goddamn," Dean muttered as he shoved his gun into his jacket and took off after Sam and the…whateverthehell.

Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

And why did always have to involve running?

Sam took a flying tackle at its knees, sending them both crashing to the ground. There was a yelp of pain as Sam was kicked in the face as the figure struggled to rise. Dan slid to a stop beside his brother as he got a good look at the thing they had been chasing for the first time.

It was a young man, probably barely out of his teens. Deep, ragged claw marks rent the side of his face and shoulder and oozed dark blood. The front of his pants were covered in blood and he slouched over, his arms wrapped tight around him.

"Hey man just chill," Sam held his hand out and moved closer, as if he were talking to a frightened animal. Which, Dean reasoned, wasn't far off the mark. "We're here to help. We can get you out of here."

"No, no I can't leave," he gasped, "I can't leave her. She wants me to do this, to be here, and I'd never leave her."

"Leave who?" asked Dean.

"My mistress. My love." The man's eyes rolled towards the dense vegetation with a look of complete adoration. "I want to please her so much, don't you understand?"

"Gotta go with the nu-huh there man. Look I'm sure this chick, whoever she is, doesn't want you to die out here." Dean signalled to Sam, urging him to get ready to jump the guy. Sam leaned down into a runner's crouch, waiting for his brother's signal to launch forward.

"Oh, but she does…she does…" The man raised his arms in a gesture of supplication, and as he did Dean caught sight of why he'd held onto himself so tight.

He'd been gutted.

From his sternum nearly down to his crotch was a large jagged tear, as if something had grabbed him from behind and torn up. His pale intestines were clear against the dark blood of the hideous wound. They moved and shifted as he took a step back to try to regain his balance, looking for all the world like worms crawling over a bowl of red jelly.

"Aw, gross." Dean looked sick.

Sam was sure he was going to vomit.

The man grabbed his abdomen and hunched over again, attempting to keep everything in place.

"Dude, you gotta get to the hospital," pleaded Sam, although he knew it was unlikely anything could be done for the poor bastard. It was a miracle he was still alive.

"I can't leave, she needs me. She wants me. She wants me. She wants me to do this for her." His stare intensified as he looked between Sam and Dean. "To run and to die."

His face spasmed into an awful rictus of a smile, part agony, part pleasure, all worship. "Mistress, mistress, oh, my love…"

With a burst of energy he sprinted through the gap between Sam and Dean, heading back north into the denser brush. Dean spun and headed after him, Sam on his heels.

For a man who was leaking his guts all over the forest floor, he sure moved fast. He zigzagged thought the scrub, doubling back then heading off at angles. He was fast for someone who should be well and truly dead.

"He's trying to lose us." Sam panted as he and Dean rested against a trunk, trying to catch their breath.

"No, I don't think its us he's trying to lose." Dean looked up towards the treetops.

"What do you mean?"

"Up there, in the shadows of the trees. Something's following him."

Sam watched as a shadow detached itself and leapt from one tree to another, following the sounding of the running man.

"Come on," Dean's hand tightened on the gun, "Let's go."

"No," Sam grabbed his arm, "We've got no weapons and no idea what it is. It'll be dark soon. We can't just head off after it."

The frustration in Dean's eyes was clear, "It'll kill him and we'll lose it."

"It's not going anywhere Dean. This is its hunting ground. It'll stay here. Anyway it's going to take some time to finish…playing…with…him."

"That's a little harsh Sammy," Dean tried to see his brother's expression in the shadows as he put the gun back in his jacket.

"He was dead when we talked to him. His body just hadn't figured that out yet. There's nothing we can do to save him, but if we do this right we can save the next one."

"Come on then," Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder as they turned and headed back to the campsite. "We'd better be able to get a ride back to town man. I will not be happy if we have to walk all the way back."

"Don't you want to walk? You getting arthritis in your old age? God, soon I'll be wheeling you around everywhere." Sam began to follow him.

Dean raised his arm and Sam snorted, "What? What's that? Middle finger straight up in the air? Does that mean I'm your number one brother?"

"Bite me Doofus."

"Yeah, real cool Dean, real cool." Sam smiled as they continued on. If there was one thing he could count on, no matter what kind of things the universe threw at him, it was his brother. God, he was grateful for that.

He couldn't imagine his life without it.