"God damn, stupid, punk kid." Dean grumbles as he leaps over the counter and runs to the door.

But it's already slammed behind Sam and I can't help but wonder in the back of my mind if it's already too late. As soon as I realize that thought's in my head, I banish it. I won't think that.

"Sam! Damn it, Sam!" Dean yells, banging on the door, "Soon as I save your ass, I'm gonna kill you!"

When Sam doesn't immediately open the door and call Dean an idiot, he backs up and kicks the door. The door shakes from the force, but holds firm. Dean kicks again.

My eyes seem to take on a life of their own, roaming the room wildly, even though I don't move my flashlight from the door behind which Sam has vanished. It isn't till I notice the light provided by my flashlight's beam diminishing rapidly that my full attention returns to the door. A dark cloud seems to be oozing out from under the door frame.

"Dean!" I shout a warning, pointing frantically.

"Shit!" Dean yells, jumping back before the dark mist can reach his legs, "Sammy! You better hurry up and get the hell back out here!"

"You've lost him, Dean. He's mine now…"

I jump at the voice and whirl around looking for a source, but it doesn't really seem to be coming from anywhere. It's almost like it's seeping up from the floor around us like the growing black mist. Strangely, I can't decide what bothers me more: that there's a disembodied voice or that it knows Dean's name.

"Like hell." Dean growls, his eyes also searching, "Give him back, bitch!"

"It's too late, Dean. You've lost your brother… Just like you lost your mother and your father…"

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy killing your ass." Dean snaps in reply, but he seems more defensive than anything. It hits me that this thing is getting to him; it's pulling out his fears.

"Dean…" I start to say, moving towards him.

But before I can move a step or finish getting his name out, something sends me flying backwards, away from him. I hit the wall at the far end of the counter with a loud thud and air rushes from my lungs. It all happens so fast I can't even think to scream. In fact, it takes a second after I hit the wall and slide to the floor for the fact of what has happened to register and the pain of it to reach my brain. I suck in a shallow breath and release it in a groan.

"You're not a part of this, little girl…" the voice hisses at me in irritation.

"What?" escapes my mouth, but it comes out sounding more like a cough.

Was this thing saying that this was all part of some kind of plan? Had it lured Sam and Dean here? And I was just an unforeseen consequence. What the hell is going on?

The mist is growing around Dean, pinning him against the counter. His flashlight is slack in his hand as if he's forgotten about it and his gun is slowly lowering towards the floor. I have to do something. I have to stop this. I struggle back to my feet, but I have no idea what I'm doing. Dean doesn't even seem aware that I'm still here and I'm afraid if I say something to draw his attention, I'll just get the demon's. How to snap Dean out of it… Oh, this is a stupid idea. But I don't have any ideas of any other varieties.

I pull my backpack around in front of me and pray that the impact with the wall didn't destroy everything inside. Unfortunately, upon opening the bag I'm first struck with what appear to be pieces of my equipment. I don't stop to think about it, pushing the pieces aside and digging out my camera bag. Carefully, I extract the camera which, thankfully, has survived thanks to the extra padding. I mount the large flash and aim at Dean. I snap a wild photo without even thinking. The flash is almost blinding.

"What the hell…?" I hear Dean say.

I wipe at my eyes to encourage them to adjust to the gloom faster, stumbling forward at the same time. My eyes stop blurring and Dean reappears in my vision. He sees me, the mist curling around his legs, and the door rimmed in deepening darkness that contains Sam. Something changes in his facial expression that I can't really name, but he quickly grabs my hand and we turn to sprint away from the dark cloud of demon.

"Are you running away, Dean? What about your brother…" the demon calls.

I see Dean's jaw clench, but he continues to pull me towards the front door. He only drops my hand for a second to take aim at the door handle and shoot. The door splinters where the bullet tears through it and when Dean kicks the door it grudgingly swings open.

"Come on." Dean orders, gesturing with his gun.

I don't wait for him to tell me twice. I hurry through the front door, Dean's right behind me. We only stop once we've reached the Impala. Moonlight bathes the town behind us in an eerie glow, but at least it's some kind of light. I feel safe again now that we're away from that room even if we're still in the town. But what about Sam?

"Dean?" I ask him.

He's staring back the way we've come as if replaying the action in his head. He only glances back at me for a second before returning his gaze to the store. I didn't think he was going to say anything, but he eventually answers. His voice sounds forced.

"Sam's a strong guy. He can hold this thing for awhile. Give us time." he says.

"Time for what?" I ask before I can think not to.

Now Dean spins around to face me. He looks furious, like I've just questioned him leaving his brother behind, accused him of something. I take a few steps back without thinking.

"Sam will be okay." he insists, his voice low, allowing no room for disagreement, "We just need to come up with a plan to get him out."

I don't say anything for a long moment, but I can't believe that he's seriously considering leaving Sam here. Not when that thing has him.

"So what are we going to do?" I ask quietly.

Dean's look of anger evaporates, replaced instantly with anxiety. It's obvious that he has no idea, no matter how much he may want to convince me otherwise. Suddenly, he begins fishing around in his pockets until he locates a cell phone. I can't even begin to imagine who he could be calling at a time like this. Yet, Dean is making a call, holding up the phone to his ear and pacing anxiously as he waits for an answer.

"Dad, this is Dean. You need to call me back, Dad. I…I lost Sammy. Something has him and I don't know how to get him back. I know we've said this before, Dad, but I really mean it this time. We need your help."

The whole conversation is quiet and I'm not sure whether Dean knows that I can hear him. Still, when he hangs up the phone, his eyes catch mine looking at him and he gives me the weakest reassuring smile I've ever seen.

"He'll call back." he says, but I'm not convinced in the slightest.

"So, what? We sit around and wait?" I can't help but yell. I'm freaking out and I can't stop it. We let that thing take Sam!

Dean looks at me like he's examining me. I can't keep my eyes focused on him. I keep sneaking glances back at the store. I feel my breath become short and shallow and wonder detachedly if I'm hyperventilating. I feel my vision go a little blurry at the edges and it takes me almost a full minute to put together that I'm crying. Frustrated, I force my eyes downward, inspecting the dirt at my feet. This can't have happened. We didn't lose Sam. I didn't just stand there and let it happen. I couldn't have been so useless, so helpless.

I jump when I feel Dean's hands on my shoulders.

"You need to listen to me and understand what I'm saying or I will drive you back to the motel and leave your ass there." he says in a voice that is surprisingly calm and controlled. It's almost as if my losing it has forced him not to. I nod weakly, still busy berating myself internally, "As annoying and hopeless as he is, I love my brother and I will not lose him. I also know that Sam can handle this demon. Whatever fears that thing is throwing at him, Sam's been facing his whole life. We have time. We'll figure something out and will go back in there and get him. But we can't help him until we get this together. Do you understand me?"

Throughout Dean's speech I've been running things through my head, only half listening to him. Suddenly, as he finishes speaking, something snaps into place. Instantly, I calm down. So, instead of answering him I say, "Dean, that thing knew who you were."

Dean's hands drop from my arm and he takes a step back, shrugging, "Demons get in your head."

"But not in mine." I say, speaking increasingly faster as I continue to put this together, "Dean, it completely ignored me to go after you. It said that I wasn't a part of it. It was planning for you and Sam, but not me."

Dean shakes his head, not seeing what I think I'm seeing, "So, it set us up and didn't plan on us bringing you along. So what?"

"So Sam was right. Someone does need to distract this thing so that someone else can kill it."

Dean's eyes widen with realization and he immediately begins shaking his head quickly, "Oh, no. I am not sending you in after it. You have no idea what you're doing."

I wince at the statement. I know something of what I'm doing. Sure I've never actually killed or exorcised or slain anything like this, but in theory I know how it's done. So I clench my hands and glare at Dean. My plan beats the hell out of sitting on our hands and waiting for Daddy to call, anyway.

"Just tell me how to kill it, Dean." I say in my best no-nonsense voice.

"Sam's right. You are crazy." Dean grumbles, avoiding answering me.

"Come on, Dean. You're wasting time." I snap at him.

Dean stops and looks at me again. It's that weird measuring look again, like he's adding up everything he knows about me and weighing it against the danger. It's obvious he feels the scales are tipped against me and he shakes his head as if he shouldn't even be considering this, but I can see that he is which gives me an edge. I leap forward, determined to talk Dean into this before he can convince himself otherwise.

"Dean, you may not trust me and that's fine, but I'm just as stubborn as either of you, I can tell you that now. And even though I've just met you guys…well, I like you two and I'm not about to let Sam get scared to death or whatever. So, either help me or think of better plan right now because I can't just stand around and wait while Sam's in there. I just can't." I insist, trying to make him understand that what I lack in experience I make up for in foolhardy stubbornness.

Dean absorbs what I say before he slowly responds, "Look, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but…well, you're just a reporter. You're not a hunter. You don't know what you're doing. If I sent you in there to do my job, it would be a kamikaze mission. Sam would kill me if something were to happen to you on his rescue mission. He's old-fashioned like that."

He's trying to pin the sentimentality on Sam, but I have a hunch that it's really his own principles that are keeping him from sending in a rookie in his place. I sigh in frustration, looking down at my hands and cursing their lack of skill with the tools of this trade. I just hadn't thought when I signed up for supernatural journalism that I'd need to fight the supernatural, too. Still… I feel like it's my responsibility now since I'm the one who has the opportunity to save Sam. I can't just ignore that. I glance down at my watch and hit the button to light up the face so I can read the time. This whole fiasco has only taken up about an hour even though it's felt like five times that long. We still have plenty of night left. Time enough for an impromptu lesson in demon-slaying.

"Alright, compromise. We have about eight hours of night left. We spend the next hour looking for anything that might give us an idea of how to take this thing down. Then, if we haven't thought of anything else, you teach me everything you can in five hours. If your Dad still hasn't called by then, we go back and get Sam my way. That's six hours for your Dad to check his messages and you to think of something. 'Cause I know you're brother's tough and all, but I don't think we can leave him until tomorrow night. What do you say? Deal?" I hold my hand out for Dean to shake on it.

Dean hesitates, looking off to the sides as if looking for another answer to present itself. When none does, he sighs and shakes my hand, "Deal."