Thanks for the reviews! You guys are great!

As you can see, there was also a title change. "Last Train Out Of My Heart" was rather cheesy and pretentious, so I changed it.

CHAPTER FOUR

Julie slept away the remainder of the day, giving Dean ample time to securely tie her to her bed. She'd be upset like anyone in her position, but neither Sam nor Dean saw any other option to keep Julie from harming herself or her family or them.

Around midnight, Janelle sat up in bed, sighing with frustration. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing Julie cut into the palm of her hand, but she needed to sleep because she would be working breakfast and lunch at the diner the next day. Janelle also knew the bathroom downstairs was packed with painkillers and sleeping agents, only she didn't know which brother would be in the living room and which was standing guard over her sister. She wasn't afraid of waking them; she was afraid of being confronted with awkward conversation.

Another fifteen minutes of no sleep passed by and Janelle could take no more. She jumped out of bed in her shorts and her father's old hockey jersey and stepped lightly down the stairs. The television emanated a blue hue throughout the black living room, illuminating the man on the couch: Sam, and he was sleeping soundly. He's so cute when he sleeps, Janelle thought, hurrying straight for the bathroom. She located the sleeping pills, swallowed two, and turned off the TV before making her way up to her room.

Stepping off the last stair, Janelle saw a person peeking into her room. Only his legs were visible as his upper body was leaning in the room, but Janelle knew who it was. She picked up her pace and nearly ran into Dean as he was coming out. He gasped and his eyes were huge, then he bit his knuckles to keep from screaming.

"Can I help you with something?" Janelle asked curiously. Dean was humiliated, but he was always quick to come up with an explanation for his actions.

"Just ... checkin' up on things, you know," he smiled awkwardly. Janelle nodded slowly.

"Right ... shouldn't you be checking on my sister?" she demanded.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dean growled. "I saw your door open, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He was telling the truth, and Janelle could see it in his eyes even in the dark hallway. She could see something else, too; some sort of a twinkle that blended well with his million dollar smile.

"Well, I'm fine," Janelle said coldly. "Thanks for your concern." She moved to enter her room as Dean headed back for Julie's, but Janelle spun around. "I'm sorry," she sighed, irritated with herself for being so rude to someone who'd volunteered to help her sister.

"It's all right," Dean smiled. "I understand."

"Can I get you anything?" He shook his head.

"Get some sleep, Janelle," he told her.

"Goodnight, Dean." She closed the door behind her and practically fell back into bed.

Dean Winchester was someone Janelle had never met before. All the men in Ryan's Bluff seemed to be made from the same mold: football players, Southern gentlemen, construction workers, a few cases of wife beaters, and law enforcement. But Dean and his little brother were a breath of fresh air, something the small town really needed. Sam was obviously the cuter and younger of the two, but Dean was the ruggedly handsome, smooth-talker type, and probably the trouble-maker as well. In addition, Janelle knew Dean was the ladies man; the looks he'd given her at the diner in the morning proved that to be true.

Janelle rolled over, pulled the blankets all around her, and actually smiled despite everything that was happening. She was very thankful for Sam and Dean Winchester, and even more thankful that they were easy on the eyes. She hated herself for thinking this way especially in light of Julie's problem. Did that make her a bad sister?

In Julie's room, Dean sat silently by the window in a rocking chair. A rocking chair that was a few hundred years old, Dean thought, and would probably break under his weight. Julie was either sleeping or unconscious, it didn't matter to Dean which as long as she was out. He tried to come up with a game plan of how he and Sam would exorcise this demon, but every time he tried, he kept thinking of Janelle; the gorgeous platinum blonde asleep just one room over. If he wasn't on a job, he would've put his game into play. He sighed heavily and laid his head back.

"All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy," he mumbled, gazing up at the ceiling. Julie unexpectedly began to laugh, and only Dean's eyes moved in her direction.

"You're all going to die," she chuckled, moving against the restraints, but not fighting them. Probably testing their durability, thought Dean, bitterly.

"That so?" Dean asked, uninterested. She continued laughing and nodded her head.

"Wait and see," she said sweetly, childishly.

"I'll be here all night, sweetheart," Dean growled, looking back to the ceiling. Julie's upper body shot up into a sitting position with her arms pulled taut behind her by the ropes and duct tape. Dean hated that he and Sam were unprepared for Elathan's appearance and now they had to do research for an effective exorcism, which prolonged the demon's time in a possible permanent host.

"I can feel it," she muttered, staring downward with her hair cupping her face; a face so similar to Janelle's, but longer and more stressed.

"Julie?" Dean asked skeptically. He wasn't exactly the master at pointing out who was talking when a person was possessed. She looked at him and he saw the terror in her eyes.

"What is happening to me?" she breathed, tears streaking her cheeks. Dean took a deep breath, almost deciding on waking up Sam to do some more explaining, but he didn't. Sam needed his sleep, everybody knew that.

But Sam wasn't sleeping. Sam was dreaming.