Here's another chapter, to help kill time before the new episode tonight!

Gah, it's late. All typos, errors, plot holes, and awkward wordings are mine.

"I know where to go," Sam announced first thing the next morning.

"Huh?" John asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He wasn't even sitting up yet. Sam had only waited until his eyes opened before he spoke.

"I know where to go," Sam repeated as John finally pushed himself up against the headboard. "She sent me a message."

"A message?" Sam watched John's confused expression as his mind struggled to work through the early morning fog.

"An image," Sam explained. "In a dream."

John sat up straighter at that. "What do you mean? How do you know?"

"I dreamt of the forest. The details were so sharp, so specific." Sam paused for a moment. "And...I don't know how to explain it, but...I could just tell that didn't come from my own thoughts. It felt foreign. Out of place." He tried to keep a poker face, wishing he had John's talent for that. He didn't want the other man to know how freaked out he felt. Again. Even now, as he spoke, he could feel the persistent pull, tugging him to the forest.

"Dude, that's creepy," John remarked.

"Yeah. Tell me about it."

"Is she still in there, in your head?"

"No," Sam replied before thinking. But then a sudden panic set in. "Wait, what if she is?" He didn't feel or think anything different but...would he know?

John shook his head. "I doubt that. That seemed to be a very minor spell yesterday, probably just enough to create a simple one-way connection. A dream would use up most if not all of whatever power she cast over you."

Sam's doubt must have shown on his face because John continued. "She sent you a location, right?" he pointed out. "I don't think she was concerned about anything else. This was only her first step."

"So what's her next step?"

"There's not going to be a next step."

Sam ignored his growled announcement. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing. "She wants me to go there, doesn't she," he realized.

John hesitated but then gave him a short nod. "Probably," he admitted.

His skin crawled at the idea of being called like that - but at the same time, he knew how much this helped them. "So she'll be there," Sam exclaimed. "That's where we can find her!"

His excitement grew as it sunk in. The thrill of puzzle pieces falling into place, of problems on the verge of being resolved – his heart hammered at the culmination of their hunt that loomed ahead of them. They could finish this today.

John, however, looked the opposite of thrilled. His face had a sick sheen to it, and he kept twitching his head as if he were trying to keep emotions from breaking through.

"What's wrong?" Sam finally asked, unable to stand it any longer.

John swallowed heavily. "I made a huge mistake, Sam..." he said, his voice filled with gravel.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, a little confused and alarmed.

A moment passed before John flicked his tongue out to wet his lips. "I left you unprepared," he replied, jerking his head away. "I should never have..." He trailed off and took in a deep breath. "God dammit."

"I don't understand..." Sam frowned, his cheeks flushed red with heat. He knew he wasn't a skilled fighter and knew next to nothing about defending himself. It embarrassed him that he needed to rely so much on John. But that wasn't John's fault and he didn't know why he was so upset.

John started to explain. "She wants you...but she might also think I'll tag along. She knows we're in town together, so she has to be prepared in case you'd bring me with you."

"So I have to go alone," Sam surmised, catching on.

"No...but it has to look that way," the other man replied. "If she can lure people to her with just a dream, she must have some pretty impressive powers. If we want any kind of advantage, we need the element of surprise. Which means I stay hidden."

"But you'll still be there."

"Yeah, but even being a few seconds away, I'm leaving you unprotected," John argued. "And you don't know how to defend yourself."

Now John was making him nervous. Sam rushed to reassure him and himself. "But doesn't she need me for a ritual? And that takes at least some preparation." Sam smirked as he went on. "You'll have plenty of time to rush in and be the hero," he joked, hoping to relieve some of the tension.

"I still don't like it," John grumbled.

Sam stood up then, wanting to finish the conversation. "Want any breakfast before we get started?" he asked, absently knocking a knuckle against the desktop.

John shook his head. "Nah, not hungry."

"All right. Well, I'm going to McDonald's, and you can go take a shower or whatever," he said as he walked towards the door. Just as he left, out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of John leaning over and placing his head in his hands.

ooOOoo

John armed Sam with several knives and blades, weapons he could hide underneath his clothes, while he armed himself with the bigger ones, a shotgun and revolver. They knew the rituals have extended her life, but they didn't know whether they left her invulnerable or not. John guessed they didn't, explaining that taking someone else's life-force only replaced your own, and nothing more. In essence, taking a stronger life to restore a weaker, fading one, which - he assumed - wouldn't give that person any special powers.

But he wasn't confident about that.

"What if she is invincible?" Sam had asked from the passenger side of John's car.

"Then we're screwed," John replied simply, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Sam gaped at him. He wasn't serious, was he?

At least he seemed to have regained some of his glib confidence. "Should we call the police?" Sam asked.

"And tell them what? That a 200-year-old witch is stealing people's lives?"

"That Annie Smith murdered Janine Larson," he replied.

John shook his head. "We don't have any proof. The only way they could hold her is if they caught her in the act. And we're not going to let it get that far." He shot a pointed glance at Sam.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam told John to turn off the road and park. The pull that had guided him since he woke up sharpened into a powerful tug, and he knew they were close. Soon Sam and John were walking through the forest, armed respectively with knives and guns.

At least Sam thought John was walking through the forest with him, even though he couldn't see nor hear him. The older man knew how to sneak about without making a sound, a talent that could only come from years of practice. Sam was definitely impressed by the repertoire of skills he had developed.

Sam, on the other hand, trampled through the underbrush. After all, there was no real reason he needed to sneak up on Annie. Even though John was doing great at being silent, Sam wanted to create more noise than he normally would, just in case he needed to cover any sounds John might accidentally make.

Of course, making extra noise was probably unnecessary – his heart was pounding so hard he was sure Annie could hear it.

He tried not to think about how his feet knew where to take him, even though he had never been through this part of the woods before. The place where Janine had been killed was well over a mile away. Most likely Annie didn't want to chance any curiosity seekers wandering onto the site.

Yeah, Annie wouldn't want anyone accidentally walking in on her sucking the life out of him.

Oh, God. Sam really hoped John was keeping up.

And then he saw the rock outcropping and knew he was there.

He didn't know, though, what he was supposed to do next. Annie wasn't in sight, and after a few short moments of silence, he started to look around.

The rock formation was made from several large boulders piled naturally together. It was covered mostly in moss and had a few saplings breeching through the cracks, and the entire thing only came up to Sam's chest. He circled around it.

He found Annie sitting on the other side.

Sam's heart jumped in surprise. It was the strangest, most anticlimactic greeting he could have imagined. She sat calmly on the ground, her back resting against the rock and her legs folded loosely in front of her. "Hello there," she greeted, looking up at him.

Sam didn't know what kind of outfit he was expecting – something black, maybe something with a corset – but he never pictured the ripped jeans and old t-shirt that she wore. Even her dark blonde hair had been pulled up into a messy ponytail. She looked like she was about to work on a car or in a garden.

Then Sam realized with a sickening feeling that her real work could get her dirty too.

"I'm so glad you came," she told him as she pushed herself up from the ground. "I could really use your help."

"Is that right?" Sam replied, taking a step backwards, his hand inching towards one of his knives.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, following him. "You're suspicious. Most people aren't."

Then her hand lashed out towards his neck.

Without time to think, Sam instantly dodged with a quarter spin as his own arms came up to block the blow. In the next instant he stepped away from a knee to his groin, a move so quick it had happened before he even realized it.

He was just as surprised by his speed as Annie seemed to be.

Unfortunately, Annie recovered a split second sooner, and she took advantage by wrapping an arm around his neck and bringing him down. As Sam struggled to free himself, he distantly wondered when John would make an appearance.

"Sam!" he finally heard John shout. John wasn't anywhere near silent this time as he crashed towards them.

It only took a few seconds for Sam to break free and he scrambled for his knife. But that brief moment was just enough for Annie to clamp a hand around his nose. He didn't realize it until he felt it, but she had some kind of fabric in her hands. A strange scent filled his nostrils, and just as he wretched himself from her grasp, he felt his knees buckle.

But a darkness filled Sam's eyes, and his head suddenly grew too heavy, pulling him downwards. Sam toppled over, barely feeling it when his body slammed against the ground and his head landed with a jarring thud. Then all sensation and thought left him.

ooOOoo

The first thing Sam became aware of was a soft steam of words worming through his ears. His mind struggled to make sense of it, but it was in a language he didn't know. Once he realized that, he forced his unusually heavy eyelids open.

A dizzying sense of vertigo overcame him when he realized he was standing upright, his arms and legs spread wide. His limbs automatically tried to jerk into a more natural position, but they were bound, and Sam was suddenly aware of the rough burn of rope digging into his wrists and ankles.

His arms were outstretched at his sides, each tied to a tree just below shoulder height. His legs were also pulled out, just past shoulder-width, also tied to each tree. But he didn't have any time to give the bindings much thought.

Annie stood in front of him, only her lips moving as she chanted. Her eyes flickered when she saw he was awake, but she didn't stop. As her voice rose into a crescendo, she stretched her arms up towards him.

Sam tried to jerk his head away, but he didn't have enough room to move it out of reach. Her hands wrapped around the sides of his head, her thumbs digging into his forehead. She tilted her head down as the concentration on her face sharpened.

Something like electricity jolted through his skull. It felt as if he were being constantly shocked. His entire head vibrated. The pain wasn't excruciating, but it was strong enough that he couldn't concentrate. He couldn't even form a thought - let alone some sort of plan or strategy to get away.

And then a thought slipped through his buzzing mind.

John? Where's John?

Suddenly it stopped. His head cleared, the energy flow vanished. Immediately he scanned the woods before him.

"Sam!"

John was there, a wide-eyed look on his face. As Sam heard his shout, he realized John had been shouting even since he had woken up – only it was just now penetrating through to Sam's awareness.

Like Sam, he too was strung up between two trees. They had been positioned so that they faced each other, separated by thirty feet or so. John thrashed against his bonds, struggling to no avail to break free. Sam was shocked to see blood soaking both of his sleeves.

But he didn't have time to find out why before he was distracted by Annie. He watched as she dropped her arms from his head and stepped backwards. A shocked look was written across her face.

"Damn it all!" she cursed under her breath.

Sam looked at her in bewilderment. She crossed her arms and studied him as she started to explain. "Your mind has already been tampered with," she told him. "It's no good to me."

Sam frowned at her. "What do you mean, it's been tampered with?"

"A part of it is blocked."

Sam felt his eyes widened as realization overcame him. Janine had been depressed when she was killed. That explained why the symbol on her forehead had been dark - something was wrong with her mind. Sam was here because Annie needed a new victim, to replace the mental energies she was unable to use from the other woman.

"You're right," Sam replied triumphantly. "I had a mental breakdown. Selective amnesia. You can't use me for your ritual!"

She cocked her head, drawing her eyebrows together. "What do you know about the ritual?" she asked, her voice filled with surprise.

"Oh, I know a lot about you," answered Sam darkly. "I know you're two hundred years old. I know you're a witch who has been killing people just so she can live. I know you murdered Janine Larson."

She blinked and raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed. But I prefer the term sacrifice to murder." A smile came over her face when she saw his scowl. "It's all about survival, Sam. I'm sure you can understand. Those of us with an advantage triumph over those who are weaker."

"You think that justifies killing people?"

"People live and die every day for no reason," she replied. "Like my husband, my son - they just got sick. Their deaths didn't do anybody any good. At least the people who I sacrifice don't die in vain. It's almost heroic, don't you think?"

Sam felt sick. But he knew he couldn't change her mind, not after she had spent the past two hundred years convincing herself. "You can't justify killing me," he argued instead. "I'm no good to you."

"No, you're not." Annie sighed. "You know, I've run into a bit of bad luck. I chose Janine because she seemed healthy and intelligent--but the chemicals in her mind were all wrong. Unbalanced. So I needed to find someone else."

"So you chose me."

She stepped closer to him. "When I saw you coming from the library wearing that university shirt, I thought, well you must have a strong mind. And you were from out of town. It was perfect." She snorted derisively at that. Sam just glared at her, unable to do anything else.

"Good thing I read you first," she went on. "It would have been a pain to go through the entire ritual, only to have it fail like last time. But what are the chances I'd select two people with poor minds?"

She shook her head, blinking up at him. "It seems we are both facing strange coincidences, doesn't it?" she asked mockingly. "So, Sam, who's been in your mind before me?"

Sam frowned, surprised by her question. "No one," he told her wearily. "I just had some psychological problems."

"No, there is definitely a magical imprint," Annie replied with confidence. "There's an unnatural energy that's blocking your mind from me. It's tainted, Sam."

Sam felt his breath catch deep in his chest as he tried to comprehend what she was saying.

"Sam!" John shouted out suddenly, disrupting his thoughts. "Don't listen to her! She's just trying to confuse you!"

"Quiet!" Annie called back. Sam heard her muttering a string of words, and then John said no more, even though his mouth was still moving. An outraged look colored John's face, and his struggles to free himself immediately strengthened.

Sam drew in a deep breath. Her words had shocked him, but he didn't have time. He had to get himself and John away from her. "Well, in any case," he told her arrogantly, "You can't use me."

"No. Good thing I have a spare." She glanced over her shoulder at John, who was actively glaring at her.

Even though his heart skipped a beat, Sam forced to keep himself calm. "Who? John?" He laughed. "He's just as messed up as I am."

She smirked at him, obviously skeptical. Sam went on. "Look at him! Does he look like a clean guy? Hell, he's been doing drugs ever since he was twelve!" he told her in a rush, talking as quickly as he could think. It was the first thing he could come up with, and he ran with it. "Do you have any idea what that does to a person's brain?" he asked. "I don't know if you live in a house or a cave, but even you must have seen the commercial with the egg and frying pan."

But Annie just shrugged. "Well, a simple mind read should tell me the truth." Sam tried to protest some more, but she ignored him as she started making her way towards John.

Sam sagged in his ropes, ignoring the pain in his wrists. At least the process wasn't too painful, and it gave him a little bit of time. He wished he knew just how much, but he had woken up in the middle of her little incantation and didn't know how much he missed.

Sam immediately started working at the ropes, trying to twist his hands free. He pulled and tugged as hard as he could, gritting his teeth. The ropes scraped against his skin, and it wasn't long before his wrists were slick with blood. Sam tried to push through the pain, ignoring the way the stiff broken strands of the rope rubbed against the already inflamed, bloodied skin.

Annie had started her chanting, but she hadn't raised her arms yet. Sam only spared her a glance before staring at his hands again as he pulled and yanked and twisted.

The rope around his right hand had a little bit more give, so he focused his concentration on that. By now, blood soaked his entire wrist and lower palm, and though it stung, it made the binds slide more easily. If he could just get the rope past the bony part at the base of his thumb, he'd be free.

Sam bit down hard on his entire bottom lip as he gave his hand one savage yank. The rope scraped deeply across his hand, taking a thin layer of flesh with it as he pulled his hand through the rough loop.

But his hand slipped free.

A rush of air blew into his lungs as he was filled with instant relief. Across from him, Annie had now lifted her arms to John's head. He was surprised he didn't see any visible signs of the spell – no blue electric bolts or black mists or anything. But he knew by John's twisted expression that the spell was happening. He could tell John was no longer aware of anything, too submerged in the constant shocking pain Sam had already experienced.

Fortunately, Annie was also too absorbed to notice Sam.

Sam didn't waste a single moment once his hand was free. He immediately reached into the waistband of his jeans were he had slipped a knife. With that in hand, he got to work on the ropes that still held his other limbs, sawing furiously at the rope until it gave away.

Then, finally, he was completely free.

And armed.

He started creeping towards Annie and John. Though he tread carefully, he feared that his footsteps against the leaf-covered ground would alert Annie. But to his surprise, his steps were silent as he stalked towards them.

Annie slowly lowered her hands from John's forehead. Since her back was to Sam, he couldn't see her expression and didn't know whether it worked or not. It didn't really matter, though. He'd stop her before she started the main ritual.

Finally, Sam was close enough to attack. He tightened his grip on the knife and leapt forward.

Just as he was about to slip an arm around her neck, Annie spun around to face him. He could tell by her wide eyes he had surprised her. Even though he had been caught, he still had the advantage, and he showed her the knife to prove it.

"Go, Sammy," John cheered, but Sam was surprised by how weak his voice sounded. He thought maybe it was because the silencing spell was just wearing off, but now that he was closer, he could see the wounds on his arms more clearly, and he realized how serious they were. On his right arm, a deep gash ripped through the sleeve of his t-shirt and the skin below it. On his left, to Sam's horror, he saw the handle of a knife which was still stuck in his arm.

Sam refocused on Annie, who was glaring at him while eyeing the knife in his hand.

"This stops here, Annie," he told her firmly, brandishing the knife. "I'm going to cut my friend free, and then the three of us are taking a trip downtown." He winced at his own words and quickly tried to redeem himself. "To the police station," he corrected. Which only made it worse.

But the hand holding the knife never wavered, and that's all that mattered.

"You're not going to take me alive," Annie replied defiantly.

Sam just shrugged. "Fine then. Your choice." Despite his forced coolness, he hoped she wouldn't take it that far. He didn't think he could stomach killing a human, even if she deserved it. But he would if he had to.

Annie moved suddenly. In one quick motion, she spun towards John, grabbed the knife stuck in his arm, and yanked it out. John let out a pained cry, and he very nearly passed out if he didn't completely.

Without slowing, Annie whirled back around. But before she could do anything with her new weapon, Sam slid forward and pressed the tip of his blade into her neck. He glared at her, daring her to move.

Annie gave him a defiant look. "If I die, your brother dies with me."

Sam almost faltered at that, but even though her threat worried him, he forced a indifferent attitude. If he could get her to believe that he'd risk John's life, maybe he could call her bluff.

So he smirked and shook his head. "My brother's already dead," he told her cheekily, raising his eyebrows. "And I barely even know John."

Annie's reaction, instead of looking crestfallen like Sam had hoped, was full of surprise. Her eyes widened and her jaw drop.

"Oh, ho!" she chortled. "That explains so much. You really don't know!"

"Know what?" Sam replied guardedly, pressing the blade tip even closer to her throat.

"Don't listen to her, Sam!" John gasped hoarsely, suddenly coming alive. His body strained against his bonds as he shouted at him. "She lied to me too, said you wouldn't wake up either. She's just trying-"

But then Annie held up a hand and pointed a finger at Sam's forehead, and John instantly fell into fearful, apprehensive silence.

"Who did you kiss last?" she asked a stunned Sam.

"Jessica Lee Moore." The words were out of his mouth at once. Sam clamped his mouth shut in shock, horrified that the answer came against his will, angry that he was forced to speak her name out loud. And confused that Annie would want to know.

But Annie didn't even pause to acknowledge his answer. As soon as he had spoken, she spun around to face John.

John was shaking his head furiously at her, his feet scraping against the ground. He struggled to push himself backwards, shrinking away from her as far as his tight bonds would let him, vainly trying to get away. Desperation made his eyes wild.

Ignoring him, Annie raised her arm and pointed at his forehead.

"What is your name?" she demanded coolly.

Sam could see him trying to hold them back, could see the way he kept his jaw clenched tight. But the words flew from his mouth heedlessly.

"Dean Michael Winchester."

to be continued...