Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW/WB or whatever they want to call it now and far more talented people than me. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Part 13: Closing In

As soon as I entered my room, I was greeted by two very annoyed looking Winchesters sitting in chairs they had set a few feet in front of the doorway. Both of them had their arms folded across their chests and I felt my heart lurch as I shut the door. I didn't have time for this. I didn-

"Where the fuck have you been?" Dean should never say the word fuck. It put too many ideas in one's head and I seriously couldn't deal with my wandering mind now.

"What are you, my mother?" I snapped and took off my coat. I tossed it to the floor with my newspaper and stalked past them, heading for the other side of the room. "Because if you want that job, you'll need a better rack and more personality."

I didn't get far, because Dean was on his feet in a flash and had grabbed my arm, spinning me around. His angry gaze tried to burn holes in me. Ah, if looks could kill.. "You do not disappear on us like that."

I tried to wrench my arm free, but he had a good grip. "Is manhandling a part of your usual foreplay or is this something special just for my benefit?"

"You want us to trust you." Sam started to say. He was annoyed too, but he was taking a more cautious approach. Good cop, bad cop. I got it. At the thought of 'cop' , I had to force myself not shiver. "But we can't really do that if you don't give a little."

I took a breath and counted silently to ten. "I couldn't sleep and I had to get out of here."

Sam frowned at me. "Where did you go?"

"There's a park not too far from here.. I ended up sitting on the swings for a few hours." My thoughts went back to Gina and I bit down on my lip again. Oh god. Ever since I left the truckstop, all I could see was her, skinned like those people hanging from the ceiling in that vision.

His turn now. What piece are you. Playing a game. What a time for my thoughts to click into place now. Oh god.

"You were on a swingset for hours." Dean snorted. "I'm not buying it, sister."

"I don't care if you buy it or not." I growled and finally rescued my arm from his grip. "I was there. I ended up talking to someone. Just bullshitting. She was nice… And now she's dead!"

That caught their attention. Cue the Winchester Look. Sam stood up and walked over to me. "What do you mean? What happened?"

I shook my head and stared at the newspaper on the floor. Sam must have noticed, because he picked it up and skimmed it.

"This happened on a Tuesday. It's Wednesday." I could tell Sam wasn't quite sure what I was getting at.

"I talked to her." I said, my voice quiet. "She showed up while I was sitting on the swing. We talked. It was nice. She was nice. She was.. Alive. I thought she was. But then.." I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to protect myself from something. Anything. "I went to the truckstop. I got food. I got a paper. And I read that.. She was skinned. Like those people in that dream or vision or whatever. He did this. His turn. Like the girl on the tv said."

I looked up at them and I knew I was about ready to panic. "This is all a game. Don't you get it? We're all pieces for some fucked up game and I can't do anything because I don't know the rules!" My voice rose and I stepped away from them as my thoughts danced like mad. "For fuck's sake, we're being used and it's not all happy go lucky, hey look I'm fighting the supernatural things that crawl around in the dark with the uber urban legendaryness, fun. It's innocent people dying just to get us to where they want us! That bitch in your dream killing Dean. Those fucking little kids. The bastard flaying people and whatever has your dad as its current host."

And if my growing hysteria didn't have their attention, that last sentence did.

"What about our dad?" Fuck, Dean was pissed now. If I wasn't so close to hysteria land I might actually have been a bit scared. Yay for panic attacks. "What the hell haven't you told us?"

"Back in Maplewood.." I tried to calm myself down, because I knew I was in for a some explaining at this point. "In the bar while you guys were talking to the Townsend woman. I saw him. He was watching me and his eyes.. That smile.." I couldn't resist shuddering this time. Not with everything whirling in my mind. "It was the same mocking vibe from the skinner. From the kids. It was all wrong and not right and I knew whatever was home in there was not your dad."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked. You could tell he was restraining his own frustration at this point.

"Because you never showed me a picture of him." I pointed out. An angry Winchester Look was my gift. "I shouldn't know what he looks like."

Dean scowled at me. "But you do. How." It was an order, not a question.

Fuck fuck fuck. Think fast. "I looked through that journal after I took it." Good girl. Not the whole truth, but enough of it to shut them up. "It was personal and I invaded privacy by doing it. I'm sorry. But you just.. I hate this!"

My back was against the wall now and I leaned my head against it, letting them take in what I was babbling. I almost blew it. Almost broke. I was so close to just spilling everything. The Mary-Sue crap. The reality jumping. As it was, I was starting to think those parts may not be as important this time.

"You still could have told us about our dad." I could hear how tense Sam was and I knew he was trying not to go off the handle.

"I wasn't really sure if it was real or if it was just my fucked up mind playing tricks on me." I closed my eyes and slid down the wall. "This is all fucking with my head. I just want to go home, but I know that I can't. I have to see this out. I have to play this game and so do you."

Silence.

"We're fucking screwed." I murmured. My last conscious thought was that at least I hadn't cried.

I didn't dream. That was something I was grateful for. I knew I was awake, but I didn't open my eyes. How did I know I was awake? I could hear the boys talking. Something about patterns and what not about the skinning murders.

Oddly, the voices weren't coming from the room next door. I turned over and opened my eyes.

I was not in my bed. I was in the Winchesters' room. Leaning against a wall near the bed I was stretched out on was Dean, no doubt taking a moment from pacing the floor and giving me dirty looks. Sam looked to be playing research boy on the laptop at the table.

I frowned. Only that was my laptop. I sat up on the bed just enough to prop myself on my arm and I leaned my head to the side. "Did you figure out my password yet?"

"No, and I've tried-" Sam stopped his typing and glanced up at me. "Want to make this easier on all of us?"

I sighed and ignored the scowling look of doom that Dean was giving me. Great. Square one on that front. "Walk through the fire."

Instead of asking what the heck I was talking about, Sam resumed typing. "Any capital letters?"

"No. I'm too lazy. And before you ask, it's a lyric from a song in the Buffy episode 'Once More With Feeling'." Yes, I was taking it all in stride. I had nothing to hide on my laptop. For the most part I only kept my writing and resources on there. It's not as if I had porn on there.

"Diner Dash?" Sam smirked at me. Huh. I guess he had calmed down at least. "I have that."

"It's addicting like crack.. Which I find odd since I work in the food service industry." I slid back into the bed and got comfy again. It really was a comfortable bed. Better than the one in my room. "I have Nanaca Crash on there too. Nothing says time killer like hitting a guy with a bike and letting others beat the crap out of him."

Dean was watching me like a hawk. "Enjoying yourself? You seem pretty calm after your breakdown earlier."

I gave him a steely gaze. "That was not a breakdown. Breakdowns include crying. That was a moment of panic. I'm better now. And yes, I'm having oh so much fun."

"Women always do in my bed."

I heard Sam sigh as he went through the contents of my laptop. I arched an eyebrow at Dean. "I'm sure they do. And usually it's when you've finally left them alone in it." There was that death glare again. I sighed and closed my eyes. "Whatever it is you think you're looking for on my laptop, you won't find it."

"Why's that?" Sam asked me.

"Because I don't clutter my laptop with the usual personality type of stuff." I explained as I burrowed under the blankets. Comfy. It took me a moment to remember this was Dean's bed and when I did I stopped instantly. I pulled the pillow over my head, hoping to suffocate myself. "It's strictly for writing and-"

"You have a ton of bookmarks for the supernatural on here." Sam pointed out to me.

I sighed. "I told you. I use that stuff for writing and-"

"Bloody-Disgusting dot Com?"

"I like horror movies." Why did I have to explain myself about that? Did they not notice that most of the reading material in my car happened to be Fangoria magazines? Hello? Observant much? I let out a yelp as the pillow over my face was stolen from me. Dean was staring down at me with that soldier boy look, so I stared back at him with the same resolve I had when I faced Aragorn and decided I was fighting in Helm's Deep.

Take that buddy. If I could face a king I could face you.

"Don't get drool on my pillow." Dean snapped and whacked me on the chest with said object. I yelped, more out of surprise than anything, and he sat himself down on the bed. With an expression that told me to slide over, I rolled my eyes and did so. He put the pillow behind him and leaned against the headboard. He folded his arms across his chest and looked kind of menacing. At least he would be if I weren't me.

I guess I wasn't going to get a happy in that bed now. That thought made me giggle and I received a confused look from him as I moved around to have them both in my line of sight. "I'm sorry."

That had them both staring at me again. I guess I sounded more serious than I had intended. Deep breath. "I'm sorry for not sharing sooner. I'm sorry I ran off. I'm just.. Sorry. And if you ask me anything right now, I'll share what I know." Well, everything but the alternate reality and Mary-Sue crap.

"This game bullshit." Dean apparently decided to take me up on my share offer. "What made you think up that?"

I glanced up at him. "There are always mentions or hints about games, turns, and playing in all these visions and shit. Sam even mentioned he heard dice rolling in his nightmare about you. Then you have me coming from nowhere who needs help just when you needed help. The coincidences are too many. Do the math. Something wants us."

"Something always wants us." Muttered Sam. He must not have found anything of interest on my laptop, because he closed it. Told him so. "What makes you think it's more than one?"

I frowned. Why did I think that? How to explain my gut feeling.. "It's.. a feeling."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh great. We're destined to survive by PMS."

I slapped him in the arm and we exchanged stab happy looks at each other. "That's not what I meant. It's just.. I've seen the kids and I've seen the skinner. They both had two different evils going for them. It just.. They felt wrong but they were different from each other. I'm just guessing on the woman in Sam's portion of the program."

Sam slid my laptop to the side. "And our dad?"

"Another guess." I shrugged. It was a guess. "Logically speaking, the best way to get you two where you're wanted would be to use your dad, right?" The look in their eyes confirmed that as a big yes. "Anything else? Or can I now focus on trying to track the thing that killed Gina?" I wanted to slay that fucker.

And when I was done with him, I was going to take on that fucking bitch too. Because if anyone was going to kill Dean, it was going to be me.

But first I had to find out how to kill a nasty demon thing without using that colt.

Where was Buffy when you needed her?