Hey guys,

Thanks for the reviews, theyre greatly appreciated! As before, please PLEASE r&r. It helps tremendously. Hope you like it...

Caroline.


Next morning Sam woke up staring at the crudely painted sign that said:

"Welcome to Cedar Grove! Population 862"

Dean had apparently parked the car in a parking lot of a series of small businesses without bothering to wake him up.

Wonderful, Sam thought. Just leave me here Dean. I mean, I couldn't possibly be of any help considering I told you about the freaking situation.

He exhaled irritably before slamming the door shut. He spotted a store with the words "CEDAR GROVE BOOKSTORE" boldly written above the wooden shop. Of course that would be where Dean was. He was too stupid to realize that a bookstore and a library are two completely different things.

He walked in to find Dean prying the elderly lady at the counter for information.

"So…you're telling me that you've never even heard of the deaths at Cedar Grove Cemetery?" He asked suspiciously with eyes narrowed and leaning a bit too far in the lady's face.

Sam rolled his eyes. He walked up to Dean before she could answer him.

"There you are Jake. I've been looking for you! Now, will you stay with me and not run off this time to bother innocent people like this lady, next time? That's a good boy. Come on" he mouthed an "Im sorry" to the woman before leading Dean by hand out the door. The woman looked more confused than when Dean interrogated her.

"What is your problem man? I had a lead on that lady, I swear she was hiding something."

"Dean. She's an ancient old lady who probably couldn't even hear you. Besides, she's the cashier at a bookstore. You honestly think she has any reason to hide something like that?"

"…yes…" he said looking at the ground to his right.

Sam exhaled exasperatedly. Dean really should've gone to college when he had the chance…

"Okay well being in a bookstore doesn't really help with our research now does it?"

"I wasn't in there because it said bookstore."

"Then why the Hell were you in there?"

"Well, when I first got here I decided not to wake you up, you looked too gosh darn cute to disturb," he flashed a fake smile to which Sam replied with a "Shut up" expression on his face. "Anyway, I looked around for the damn cemetery to see if I could spot this…statue thing, and I noticed her," he glanced inside the bookstore, referring to the old lady, "kneeling in front of the same statue. She seemed to be…praying or something. She had the whole head bowed, eyes closed, hands folded, murmuring thing goin' on. So I watched her for a while…tried to figure out what the Hell she was even doing there, when she saw me. She looked kinda panicked and scared and rushed over to her car as fast as her little legs could get her there" he spat in a disgusted tone.

"I'm tellin' ya man, she is up to something." He scanned the skyline about Sam's head as if to add a moment where his words actually meant something.

Sam cocked his head again like the night before.

"She was praying?"

"Yea I know man, tell me about it." He had a weirded out expression on his face, as if praying was some disgusting thing, like studying.

Sam's brow furrowed. She was praying?

"Are you sure she wasn't doing some sort of ritual or…spell? She wouldn't've been praying if she was instigating or, summoning this thing. It would've looked more like a repetitive memorized excerpt from a book in a different language, possibly Latin, but her hands wouldn't've been folded or clasped. That's a definite symbol of praying, something pure, something holy. Not evil at all…"

He looked so confused. He rubbed his forehead hacking his brain for information, memory, anything.

"…so…she isn't evil?" Dean asked disappointingly.

"Ah…" Sam sucked in air through his closed teeth still rubbing his head, "I don't think we can rule her out completely, but, ah..." he looked in pain.

Dean switched from detached-from-the-situation-mode to full alert mode "Sam. Sam are you okay?"

Sam fell to his knees. Clutching his forehead.

"God damnit not again. Sam. Sammy! Stay with me here bro, stay strong."

The last vision he saw was the blurry image of Deans worried face carefully holding his baby brother.


It was night. Sam was standing on the corner of a street that looked vaguely familiar. It was chillingly cold outside, both because of the weather, and because of the strange feeling he felt. He looked around the dead intersection and crossed the street. He squeaked the wrought iron gate open and walked through the "Cedar Grove Cemetery" awning.

He didn't really know what he was doing or where he was going, but something seemed to pull him along as if a string was attached to his belly and slowly dragged him in one direction.

"Sam…"

He stopped abruptly. It felt like the wind was calling his name.

"Sam…"

Wait a minute, what wind. The night was more dead than the cemetery he was in. He shivered and kept walking.

He passed several, what seemed like, miles of graveyard, watching as the stones passed by. Some stated "Beloved Wife" others "Beloved Friend". Some said nothing at all. Just a stone to mark their passing.

After 20 minutes of walking alone in the dark in the vast cemetery, Sam could see a circular clearing in the stones. In the center of this clearing, was the statue.

"Sam."


Sam gasped air as he came back, breathing heavily and blinking as little as possible. He didn't like it when he unconscious, dreaming about scary as Hell things.

"Sam! Sam, oh good. Dude you scared me for a second man." He held his brother and pressed his face into his chest. After several seconds of heavy breathing from Sam he pulled away from Dean's protective hold on him.

Dean waited a while before springing the obvious question on him. This one seemed worse than the past ones. In the past it took only several seconds for Sam to recover, but…for some reason Sam was taking an awful long time to come back. Finally, after 5 minutes, he decided it was okay.

"What did you see Sam?" He asked in a soft tone, as if talking too loud would cause him to have a heart attack.

Sam roamed the ground next to Dean with his eyes before traveling slowly upwards to his eyes. It looked like he had a hard time focusing. When he spoke, it was soft and he had a hard time pushing them out.

"I…I was on some 4-way street intersection. It was really dark and no one was out. I crossed the street and went into the Cedar Grove Cemetery…" he stopped finally realizing why the street intersection was vaguely familiar. But he wasn't awake when Dean was there…?

"Anyway…it felt like something was pulling me forward. Dragging me on. I had no idea where the Hell I was going…but, I just kept walking."

Dean's brow was furrowed and he nodded, implying that he understood.

"I walked for what seemed like forever and finally came to a circular clearing. The grass was in a perfect circle with no other grave stones, but in the center was the statue…." He looked right and left, not really looking at anything, just remembering and visualizing the vision he just experienced.

"And then I came back." He didn't tell Dean about the voice. He wasn't even positive it happened in the dream. Maybe it was a weird detail he was imagining.

This surprised Dean. Sam described the street intersection, the entrance, the clearing, everything perfectly. Dean was positive he was asleep when he visited those places. What was even weirder, was that Dean had the same pulling sensation when he was in the cemetery. Yea it didn't bother him as much then because it was daylight. To Sam it must've freaked the living daylights outa him being there alone at night. Premonition or not, that's scary shit.

"That's all right…" He said, "Everything. You described it in perfect detail."

Sam looked up at him. The color seemed to be flowing back into his face. This relieved Dean. At least he wasn't gonna die from shock of his vision. This time.

"Well. No use sitting here," Dean said as he got up clapping the dirt of his hands. "Might as well go find a motel around here."

Sam reached up with an arm asking for help up. Dean grabbed his hand and yanked him up. Turning towards the car, Sam followed him.


The brothers found a quaint little Inn several streets down. It was well kept, which was a change. The only thing that was…annoying, was the apparent obsession in lace the owner seemed to have. The damn stuff was everywhere. The curtains, the pillow cases… Hell the towels in the room's bathroom had bows on them. Dean felt like he was in a doll house.

Sighing heavily, Dean collapsed on the left of the two queen beds. He rolled over to come face to face with a lacey, frilly pillow intoxicating his air. He grabbed it and threw it across the room.

"Remind me to buy my own damn pillows next time were at a store. This is ridiculous."

Sam laughed. "I don't mind it much. Just ignore it." He was clicking on his laptop again.

"Yea right. Just ignore it…" he looked around at the room. It practically screamed FEMME.

Sam chuckled to himself. The sight of Dean in a frilled wonderland was almost too much to bear.

"Ha ha," Dean mocked, "I swear…the only thing here that it needs is a white wicker table with teacups and teddy bears." His habit of looking around at the basically pink room was starting to make him nauseous.

"Oh I could arrange that if you want…?" Sam asked seriously, trying to hold back his smirk.

Dean took the other pink embroidered lace pillow and hurled it at Sam's head. "Shut up."

Sam laughed out loud.

"Ugh…" He flopped on his back and covered his eyes with the backside of his left hand.

Sam noticed how tired Dean was. He drove almost 800 miles non stop yesterday, except for gas. He could tell he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but for some reason he wasn't letting himself drift off.

"Dean you really should get some sleep. It's not healthy for you to be burning the candle at both ends."

Dean lifted his head up to look at Sam.

"Oh, really? Well, if I'm not mistaken, you, Mr. Nightmares, got used to only a couple hours of sleep a night. Still do in fact…"

"Yea well, that's cause I have nightmares that wake me up. Plus I'm just a bad sleeper to begin with. You don't have that problem."

"Yea whatever man." He said as he dropped his head back on the bed.

Sam sighed. He wished his brother would just listen to him and sleep for God's sake. But, he was dealing with Dean Winchester, the king of stubbornness.

"Fine. I'm gonna get some sleep if you wont. Are you gonna eat at the Continental Breakfast the Inn is serving tomorrow?" He asked as he put the laptop on the table and took off his boots.

With his eyes closed and the hand palm-up still over his brow he said, "If the food is as pathetic and weak as this room, no thanks. I'll probably go down to the café down the street and grab a coffee."

"Alright well, I'm gonna try out this breakfast thing they got goin' on and if it is like you're expecting it to be, I'll join you."

"Whaaatever..." Dean said groggily. He was finally drifting.

Good, Sam thought. He watched his brothers form slowly rise and fall from his breathing. His eyes then lingered around the room, then to the window. Was there someone...? Was that-!

No. Sam laughed to himself. There's no way his dad would've been outside his window.

I've got to get some sleep. First my visions, now my hallucinations. Wonderful.

And with that the younger brother drifted off to sleep.


Sam found himself walking in the cemetery at night again. This time the pull was stronger and more forceful. It almost dragged him to a run. However, he forced himself, almost painfully, to walk.

It was ten minutes later when he came to the statue's clearing. He kept time.

He stood at the edge of the circular clearing staring at the black marble statue.

"Sam…"

Realizing it was talking to him he stared at it with a loathing glare for several minutes.

"Sam..."

"What the Hell are you. Why do I keep coming here? What do you want!"

"I want you Sam. I want you, like the demon that took your mother, and girlfriend wanted them. I need you Sam. I need your life."


Sam woke up hot and sweaty. The voice was real. And it knew about his mother.