Hey hey hey! Good Morning! Who's ready for part 3?

A thousand thank yous to all of you who read, review, follow, favorite, all that good stuff. I appreciate your feedback and support- you all are the best. Hats off to the best beta and friend in the land, Jenmm31. Go check out her stories if you haven't already!

So as you probably deduced from this story, I'm really into music, lol. I was listening to this song one day and the whole story popped into my head. That often happens for me- Natalie was actually born out of the song "Sweet Child of Mine" by the incomparable Guns and Roses. But this is my second favorite song, so thank you for letting me play around with it. Part of the idea came from a suggestion in a review that I do a call-back to a very, very fine episode from SPN season 12 with a little twist on it. Thank you for the suggestion! I'm always still taking requests for stories. If you can be patient with me, I'll write you a story!

Thank you for being you. You're brilliant at it, and the best you in the world. :)

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. This is part 3 of a 3 part story. If you haven't read the previous two chapters, please do, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimers.

Natalie just stared, completely taken by surprise. "The….what?"

"The Hotel California," Tiffany replied smoothly, her perfect smile creeping across her lovely mouth.

Natalie shook her head, still not believing what she was hearing. "That's….that's just a song," she finally stammered out feebly. Tiffany sighed patiently.

"No, clearly, it's not," she said. She walked around the counter towards Natalie, who instantly drew her gun and trained it on Tiffany again. The concierge just smiled and tilted her head. "Go ahead. Try it," she said, gesturing to the gun. "You know, as smart as you are, I'm surprised it took you this long to catch on. I thought you'd be the first one to get it." Natalie's confused look prompted Tiffany to explain further. "Your father and your uncle have figured it out by now."

At the mention of her family, Natalie squeezed her gun harder. "Where are they?" she yelled.

Tiffany brushed an invisible speck of dust off the counter before answering. "They're here. But you won't find them."

"Try and stop me," Natalie snarled.

"I don't need to. Pretty soon, you won't even remember your name, let alone who they were."

"You wanna explain that, or do you just want me to fill you so full of holes that people could play ski ball on you?"

"Actually, I don't want to explain. I just want to watch you figure it out. After all the stories, the legends, the rumors- I'm dying to watch the great Natalie Winchester in action."

Natalie stood up stock straight, she was so taken aback by Tiffany's comments. "What legends and rumors?" she asked, her confusion and temper mounting.

"Well, truth be told, more rumors than anything else. You've been kept very hidden for a long time. No one actually knew if you existed or not. Or at least, if they found out, they didn't keep the knowledge for long."

Natalie's eyes narrowed. She had no freaking clue what Tiffany was talking about, but she didn't want her to know that. Pretending that she knew what she was talking about, she tried to ask a leading question. "Did you take their knowledge?"

"Oh, no. My Hotel does that for me." Tiffany looked around at the walls and furniture. She lovingly grazed her hand across the black marble counter. "I just get to reap the rewards." She turned back to Natalie, a hungry look in her eyes. "See if you can figure it out. I have to know if you are what they say you are."

Natalie stepped back, still gripping the gun in one hand, but her head was spinning. What the hell was Tiffany talking about? WHO said she was WHAT? She shook her head. She couldn't figure that out now. She needed to assess the situation and find her father and uncle. She began thinking about the hear and now.

The Hotel California. The Eagles' song. She had heard it so many times. Dean even used to sing it to her when she was a baby as a lullaby. She started replaying the lyrics in her mind. They had been tired- driving- and suddenly saw….

'up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light'.

They had all been extremely, inexplicably tired…

'my head grew heavy and my sight grew dim- I had to stop for the night'.

As the lyrics came flooding back to her, something suddenly snapped into place.

'Her mind was Tiffany twisted….'

She glared at the concierge, who was still smiling hungrily at her, as if beckoning her to keep going. Natalie started instantly flipped through her mental catalogue of supernatural creatures. Only a couple monsters could twist people's minds like this. They had just taken one out. But then, Natalie realized- Tiffany said bullets couldn't hurt her. Djinns could be taken down with bullets. Natalie's eyes roamed around the room at the lovely Japanese art work and influences. It suddenly came together.

"You're an Oni. Japanese Djinn," Natalie spat at the woman. Tiffany clapped her hands delightedly.

"You DID figure it out! Well done!" Tiffany gushed enthusiastically. She chuckled a little when she noticed Natalie's eyes darting around the room. "Oh, by the way, you're not going to find what you're looking for."

"Excuse me?" Natalie barked out, focusing her narrowed eyes on the Oni once more.

"Do you really think that I'm going to keep soybeans or holly around?" Tiffany said patronizingly. Natalie gritted her teeth- how had Tiffany known that she was looking for those items that were known to kill Oni? Before she could come up with some witty retort, Tiffany continued speaking. "And I can't stand monkey statues. They do nothing for the ambiance."

Natalie exhaled heavily. So no monkey statues, soybeans, or holly- the only known ways to kill Oni. She was going to have to get creative. Just as she had that thought, Tiffany suddenly turned towards her, hands outstretched in delight.

"YES!" she shrieked. "Yes, that's what I want. Use your creativity. Get that brain going. Figure it all out." She looked so hungry and desperate. Trying to ignore the fact that the Oni was reading her mind, she had to ask the question, even if she was just stalling for time.

"Why? Does watching me figure out ways to kill you get you off or something? I would strongly recommend therapy, lady."

Tiffany laughed. "Ah, it's the sarcastic ones that fuel the best. I have to tell you, I'm getting a hell of a hit off your father right now." Tiffany's eyes sought Natalie's daring her to figure that puzzle out.

Natalie's eyes darted around the room again, desperately looking for some clue that would lead her to Dean's whereabouts. Tiffany's taunts had only strengthened her resolve to find him and Sam. Her eyes landed on a champagne bucket at the end of the counter. Instantly, she looked up- and saw her own reflection staring back at her.

'Mirrors on the ceiling, pink champagne on ice, and she said, we are all just prisoners here of our own device'

Natalie's brain spun out as it put the pieces together. Oni, like djinn, fed off of the human mind. They were all trapped here- in devices of their own makings. What ever their minds concocted that kept them trapped. Things that they felt, or kept secret, or even regrets- whatever it was that was the most incapacitating to each of them- that's what was going to keep them trapped. She instantly realized that Sam and Dean could easily be facing any number of horrific, soul shattering things. She had to find them.

She suddenly darted towards the hallway she had come from, but Tiffany blocked her way. "Another mental hurdle passed. Good." Tiffany eyed her up and down speculatively. "Not as quick as I would have expected, but then again, you have no idea of your true potential, so I supposed allowances can be made." Without appearing to move, Tiffany instantly closed the gap between herself and Natalie, latching onto the young girl's arm. "So tell me, Natalie. What is your device? What is it that keeps you trapped in your own mind?"

Natalie tried to close off her thoughts- tried to make her mind one big blank slate. But she was in the grips of a thousand year old Oni- literally. There was no escape.

"Ah. I see. You can't seem to let go of your guilt at those hunters' deaths," Tiffany whispered into her ear. Natalie pinched her eyes and her mouth shut, still desperately trying to close her mind. "Now, what did you father tell you about that last night?" Unbidden, the conversation in the hallway with Dean rose to her mind. Natalie shrieked wordlessly in frustration as Tiffany dug into her memories. "Ah yes. He told you that you need to forget it. Well, I have just the place for you."

Suddenly, Natalie found herself outside in the courtyard, surrounded by a throng of young men, dancing crazily. As she pushed her way through the sweaty dancers, trying to get back to the door to the lobby, she saw Tiffany standing on the other side of the glass door. With a sadistic smile, she watched as Tiffany turned the deadbolt, locking her out here. She fluttered her fingers at Natalie, and was gone.

Natalie reached into the small of her back to withdraw her gun and shoot her way out through the window, but there was nothing there. She had had a gun just a moment ago. Didn't she? Natalie had felt sure that almost a moment ago, she had a gun in her hands, but that memory seemed to be slipping through her mind like sand through a sieve. She patted down her pockets, but couldn't find….what had she been looking for?

Natalie shook her head and took a step to the left, trying to keep away from the courtyard of dancing men. Suddenly, another lyric came to her mind.

'How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat, some dance to remember, some dance to forget'

Natalie's heart stopped. She was trapped by the fact that she couldn't stop remembering what had happened. So that bitch was going to make her forget. She stumbled, frightened, looking for another door, an exit, anything. She tripped over a beer bottle, and fell right into the arms of a shirtless frat boy.

"Whoa," the boy said, standing her upright. "Sorry about that, little darling." Natalie couldn't answer- her eyes were darting around the courtyard in a panic. "Hey- hey sweetheart- you okay?" the boy asked, suddenly concerned.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I…I think so," she said weakly. The frat boy grinned at her.

"Well, then it's my lucky day. You're pretty cute. What's your name?"

"I….don't know."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam's mind spun out. The sign was an anagram. And it spelled Hotel California.

"Is it even possible? How the hell does someone get trapped in a song?" he muttered out loud, desperately.

"Right idea, wrong creature," came a gruff voice from behind him. Sam spun away from the window. As soon as he got a look at the voice's owner, his knees turned to water. He grasped the window sill behind him for support. Even though he was seeing with his own eyes, he couldn't believe it.

"Dad?" he whispered.

John Winchester walked forward, his stoic, familiar look in place. A look that Sam hadn't seen in so long, but could never forget. John rubbed his bearded cheek and looked at his youngest son in bemusement.

"That's right Sammy. I'm surprised you didn't notice my truck out in the parking lot."

Not knowing what else to do, Sam whipped back around to the window. Where the Mercedes Benz had been the night before, a large, black truck had taken its place. He gulped and turned back to the image of his long-dead father.

"That's not real. You're just an illusion too, just like the other Natalie was," Sam said, not able to take his eyes from his father's face.

John tilted his head at Sam's words. "Who's Natalie?" he asked. "Is that your girlfriend?"

Sam shook his head. "No- Dad- that's Dean's daughter. Dean has a sixteen year old daughter." Sam expected his father to fly off the handle, or reach for a beer- his two go-to responses in times of stress. Instead, John just snorted and shook his head.

"Well, not in this reality, he doesn't. Damn kid. If I told him once, I told him a thousand times that he had to keep it wrapped if he was gonna play the field that much," John grumbled, almost to himself. He straightened up, and looked back at Sam. "That doesn't matter now, soldier."

At hearing the horribly familiar moniker, Sam's hackles instantly raised. "Dad, I'm not a soldier. I never have been."

"That's where you're wrong, Sammy," John spat instantly at his youngest. "Use that brilliant brain of yours and figure out what's going on."

"I'm in the song Hotel California."

"For god's sake, Sam, get your head in the game. You're smarter than that. You can't be trapped in a song. But you can be trapped in a monster's den who just happens to have a fondness for classic rock."

Sam's mind took John's insults and started turning them into facts, like always. He listened through the words and grasped the meaning.

"You're….you're what would have happened if I chose to stay with you and Dean instead of going to Stanford," Sam finally said hoarsely as the truth came crashing in.

John gave him a rare smile. "There you go. See? I always knew you were the smartest one out of all three of us. Sammy, you were always so bright- so brilliant. Why didn't you stay with us? Didn't you know how much your brother and I needed you?"

"You didn't need me. You just wanted another soldier," Sam replied bitterly.

"You're damn right. You can't win a war with only two people, son. We were better together. I might still be alive today." John's dark eyes suddenly turned cold. "If it weren't for you."

Hearing those words, Sam's guts instantly turned to ice. He bolted past his father for the door, yanked it open, and threw himself back into the hallway. The starkness of it was almost soothing after the run in with the image of his father. Sam looked desperately up and down the hallway. One of these had to be the way out. His mind felt twisted- he had to find his way back to the place he was before.

At random, his hand hit a knob, and without thinking, he shoved the door open with a crash. He once again found himself in a darkened bedroom. The look, the smell, the feel of it was all instantly recognizable to him. A chill of dread shook him to his core.

"No," he whimpered softly to himself. "No, please not this."

"Sam…." He closed his eyes against the tears that were already threatening to pour out. As much as he didn't want to, he looked up towards the source of the voice that had called his name.

There she was as he last saw her. Pinned to the ceiling, her nightgown dripping blood, her blonde hair splayed and plastered to the ceiling's surface.

"Do you know that this wouldn't have happened if you'd made the choice to stay with me?" Jess whispered. The ceiling exploded in flames.

Sam couldn't answer- he blindly turned and stumbled towards the door, running with all his might.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean's breath came in shallow gasps. He had been chasing this creature around the dining room for what felt like hours. He finally had to stop, simply too exhausted to carry on. He dropped to his knees, gulping in air.

The dog approached him, seeming to be perfectly content. Dean glared at the creature, incredibly annoyed.

"Seriously?" he spat out between gasps of air. "You're not even breathing heavily?"

The dog appeared to have an amused look on his face. "I keep telling you, there's nothing you can do. I'm not trying to hurt you, and I do wish you'd stop tiring yourself out trying to hurt me. You can't."

Not for the first time did Dean replay the lyric that was circulating in his head.

'They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast'

He dismissed the thought. "Trust me, if there's a way to kill you, I'm gonna find it," Dean thundered at the dog.

"Well, if you suppose you must. How long exactly do you think it's going to take for you to give up? I really would like my belly scratched, and with you chasing me, that's damned near impossible."

"I'm not scratching anything on you, ya freaking talking dog. I want out of here so I can go find my daughter and brother and get the hell out of here."

"I'm sincerely hoping that this won't take more than a week, but you ARE Dean Winchester. You're stubborn enough to drag this out for years, aren't you?"

Dean wouldn't give him the satisfaction of answering. He was trapped here with only his deepest fear keeping him company. However, the terror of not knowing what was happening to Sam and Natalie was growing by leaps and bounds.

As if the dog could read his mind, he sighed heavily and trotted over towards the windows. "Maybe this will help you to realize that it's pointless to worry," the dog said anxiously. He took the cord to the window shade in his mouth and pulled. Through the window, Dean could see the lush courtyard. Not being sure what the dog was getting at, he walked tentatively over to see what he could see.

The courtyard was still full of the drunk and rowdy frat boys, dancing away. Dean was about to turn and curse the dog out for making him look on all these idiots making jackasses out of themselves, when he suddenly saw her. Dean plastered his hands against the windows, smacking the glass hard to get her attention.

"NATALIE!" he screamed. She appeared not to have heard him. She was too busy dancing with some shirtless douchebag. Dean gritted his teeth. He told her to stay away from those horny morons, and here she was, living it up while he was trapped in a room with a talking hellhound. She was going to be grounded until she was dead for this one.

He smacked the window again, trying to get her attention. "NATALIE GRACE!" he bellowed. "GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM HIM!" She continued dancing. A sudden thought occurred to him. As much as he didn't want to, he turned to the dog for answers. "She can't hear me, can she?" he said gruffly.

"Oh, no. She can hear you. She just doesn't realize that you're talking to her."

The fury in Dean's veins suddenly turned to ice. What did he mean, she didn't know he was talking to her? Just then, the shirtless douchebag caught his eye. Dean hammered on the window again. He watched the boy focus Natalie's attention, then pointed to the window. Natalie finally turned her head and looked at her father. He gestured for her to get closer to the window furiously. She cautiously walked in his direction.

"Um, hi?" she said, smiling at him benignly.

"UM, HI?!" Dean yelled back. "Natalie, what did I tell you about going out with those drunken idiots?! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, little girl?"

She shook her head, and looked at him like he was a crazy hobo yelling things on the street. "I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked, the smile on her face forced.

Dean's knees collapsed. She didn't know. She didn't remember who he was. The lyric about dancing to forget swam through his mind. He pinched his eyes shut, knowing an ache that he had never known before. Before he could do or say anything else, she turned her back on him and disappeared again in the crowd.

The dog carefully sat down beside him. "I tried to warn you, Dean. There's no escaping this place. It's just you and me now."

Dean's sobs echoed through the dining room. The dog gently nudged under Dean's arm. Desperately needing comfort, Dean latched on to Nobody.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Tiffany couldn't have been happier. She had three fresh, new hunters in her grasp. And not just any hunters- the Winchesters. All three. As their minds and fears seeped from their various locations into her being, she felt strong- powerful- well fed. A feeling she hadn't enjoyed in a long time. She had taken every possible precaution to keep them trapped here. They had no means to kill her, and the hotel was warded in more ways than even the Winchesters knew were possible. They were well and truly hers- forever.

The phone at the front desk rang. She bounced over from the courtyard window where she had been quietly watching Natalie, almost skipping in her delight. She picked up the phone with her perfectly manicured hand.

"Fort Lilac- One hi and you'll…."

"Hello, Tiffany."

She almost dropped the phone. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in so long, but there was no mistaking it. You never forgot that voice. Trembling, she raised the receiver back to her ear.

"I…I thought you said you were going to forget this number."

"I said I would lose this number. And guess what. I found it."

Tiffany gritted her teeth. "So what do you want?" She realized the tone she was using and quickly amended it. "Sir?" she said, more politely.

"You need to let them go."

"Let who go?"

"Are you really going to try this with me? I'm…you know…ME. I know everything."

"But Sir, I…"

"This isn't a negotiation. Let them go. All of them."

"Can't I just keep the girl? Please?"

"No, you may not. Especially not her."

"So the rumors are true."

"As for those rumors, they're not even close to what you're thinking or what you've heard. But you will let her go. You will let all of them go, intact, and you will not bother them again. Or I will ensure that they will each find a sprig of holly in their hands."

She gritted her teeth. She had no choice- if she wanted to live. "As you wish," she muttered, low.

CLICK.

She gripped the phone tightly in her hand before slamming down the receiver. She finally, FINALLY had the Winchesters, and now….Well, she knew better than to call his bluff.

She reached out and tapped the doorman's bell on the counter.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Suddenly, all three Winchesters found themselves on a dark, desert highway, back in the Impala, roaring down the road. The second Dean got his bearings and realized where he was, he slammed on the brakes, thrusting them all forward violently. He slammed the car into park and looked behind him into the back seat.

"Natalie?" he barked loudly, reaching his hand towards her. She was winded from the jerk of her seatbelt on her gut, but she gasped out the most beautiful words Dean had ever heard her say.

"What the hell was that about, Dad?" she wheezed, trying to re-inflate her lungs.

"You know who I am," Dean said, wanting confirmation first.

"Of course I do-" she said, then suddenly cut short. It was all flooding back to her. The hotel, being transported into the courtyard, the shirtless frat boy- and how she suddenly couldn't remember who she was. She looked up, terror in her eyes, and gripped Dean's outstretched hand tightly.

"You're okay," he instantly said, gripping her back tightly, knowing she was on the verge of a freak out. "I've got you, Baby Girl. You're okay." He looked to his brother. "Sammy, you okay?"

Sam's hands were outstretched against the dashboard, where he had tried to stop himself from the sudden thrust forward. He gulped in air, but turned to look at his brother. "Yeah," he gasped out. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you? Dean, are you okay?"

Dean just nodded. The relief of having both his daughter and his brother back in the safety of the Impala was causing his throat to close up and his eyes to water. Sam reached out and clapped him on the shoulder in support.

"What happened?" Sam finally said, weakly. "Last thing I remember, I was…"

"Running for the door?" Dean said dryly, finishing his sentence. "We were stuck in a fucking Eagles song, that's what happened."

"No, that wasn't just it," Natalie said, still gripping Dean for dear life. "Tiffany was a Oni."

"One of those Japanese demon things?"

"Yeah. She just used the Hotel California as inspiration."

"Either that," Sam mused. "Or Glenn Frey had a run in with her that he wrote a song about."

"Well, whatever the hell just happened, I sure am glad to see you two," Dean said, looking back and forth between them. "Natalie, how did you end up in the courtyard?"

Natalie gritted her teeth. "Tiffany transported me out there. Believe me, I wouldn't have gone out there on my own."

Dean nodded. "Good girl. Sam, where were you?"

"I was in a corridor. I kept having to- well, let's just say that I had to face some serious moments up there," Sam said, not wanting to reveal what he had just seen.

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. I was trapped in the dining room with a damn talking dog that I couldn't kill."

"-They just can't kill the beast," Natalie murmured quietly, before grinning. "Didn't stop you from trying, though, did it?" Dean shook his head, smiling back.

"You know me too well. But you remember everything, right? No gaps- it's all there?" he asked, looking at her worriedly. She nodded.

"Yeah. I do. And I know now that I need to do what you say and find the balance between what I let my mind think about while hunting."

"I think that was the lesson we all learned," Sam said quietly. They all turned back towards the front, sitting quietly as the car rumbled in park on the lonely, dusty road. Finally, needing to move, Dean threw open the door and went around to the back. Natalie turned in her seat and watched as her father opened the trunk to check the contents. After a moment, he came back, dropping heavily into the driver's seat.

"Well, it's all there. All our stuff," he said. He turned back to the others. "What do you say- you guys wanna go cool it at Bobby's for a while?"

"That sounds amazing," Natalie moaned, leaning her head back and finally relaxing.

"Then let's kick it." Dean squealed Baby's tires and she peeled out, just as happy as them to get away from the nightmare behind them. After about five minutes of solid silence, Sam finally asked the question they were all trying to figure out.

"How did we get out?" he asked quietly. He turned and looked at his niece. She shrugged.

"Search me. I have no idea. If it had been Cas, he would have showed up to help- not operated from a distance. Not his style."

"Well, something intervened for us," Dean said, breaking into the conversation. "And if I ever figure out who it is, I'm going to send them a big bottle of something very liquor-y."

"As long as it's not pink champagne on ice, I think we're good."

The radio was silent as they raced home.