DISCLAIMER: The end of season one

S1 EP22 DEVIL'S TRAP

(continued in straight from Salvation)

Bridget pulled out her cell, unable to stand anymore emotional moments. "I'll call him…"

She held the phone to her ear and her eyes widened, breath freezing at the voice that came from the other end, "You three really screwed up this time…"

"Meg," she growled causing Sam and Dean to freeze in fear. "Where is he?"

"You're never gonna see him again. Tell his boys their never gonna see their father again."

The three exchanged a look of anger and concern…they had fallen into a trap after all. Bridget had a feeling things were about to get worse…a lot worse. Bridget hung up, "They have your Dad, they have John."

"What'd she say?" Sam asked her.

"I just told you," she said as Dean grabbed the duffel bag and the Colt, tucking it into the back of his pants.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Bridget asked him.

"We gotta go."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right? It knows we've got the Colt, it's got Dad, it's probably comin' for us next."

"Good," Sam said. "We've still got three bullets. Let it come."

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready! We don't know how many of 'em are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving. Now…"

Bridget didn't question him and grabbed Sam's hand, following Dean out to the car. She had something to add. "But we're gonna need help and you know exactly who we have to go to…"

"Yeah…you're right," he nodded.

The house looked dirty and rundown withy car parts and a cemetery of automobiles decorating the front yard and especially the back that held the hopeful fixer uppers. Inside was a different appearance. It was neat, orderly and fixed up. They were talking to Bobby Singer, the old family friend.

"Here ya go," Bobby handed Dean a small bottle.

"What is this? Holy water?"

"That one is," he held up the other bottle. "This is whiskey." He took a swig and handed it to Dean. Bridget snatched it from him, taking a gulp herself without a wince.

"You never cease to amaze me," Bobby shook his head.

She handed it back to him. "If I had a nickel for every time I hear that." Dean opened his mouth and she pointed her finger at him. "Say what's on your mind and they'll wonder where I hid your body."

He changed his words to Bobby, "Thanks, Bobby, for everything. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure it we should come."

"Nonsense," he said with a wave of his hand. "Your daddy needs help."

"Yeah, but last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything," Bridget reminded him.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people," Bobby shrugged.

Dean thought it over, "Yeah, I guess he does."

"Bobby, this book – I've never seen anything like it," Sam said from the table.

"The Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, all right," Bobby said.

"And these protective circles – they really work," Sam asked pointing at the picture.

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in one, they're trapped – powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel."

"The man knows his stuff," Dean nodded.

"I'll tell you somethin' else, too – this is some serious crap you boys stepped in," Bobby said.

"Yeah? How's that?" Sam asked.

"Normal year, I hear, say, three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops."

"Yeah?" Dean said.

"This year, I've hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm sayin'? More and more demons are walkin' among us – a lot more."

"Do you know why?" Bridget asked.

"No, but I know it's somethin' big. A storm's comin'. And you three, and John – you are smack in the middle of it…" the dog started barking outside and Bridget felt her necklace start to quiver, she touched it but found it was the ring that was pulsing with energy. She was here. It was Meg. Her eyes hardened and she turned to the door.

"Something's wrong," Bobby said.

The door was kicked down then and Meg walked in. "No more crap, okay?" She flung Dean into the wall as he tried to hit her with Holy Water. Bridget started walking backwards, towards the living room. "I want the Colt."

"We don't have it on us," Sam told her.

"Didn't I say no more crap? I swear, after everything I heard about you, I've gotta tell you I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you three. Did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

Bridget smiled, "Actually, we were counting on it," she glanced up at the ceiling and Meg followed her look, seeing the protective circles on the ceiling. When she moved her head back down Bridget was standing closer to her, "Gotcha," she said and swung her fist, catching Meg straight in the face and knocking her on her ass unconscious.

"Wow," Dean whistled. "Nice punch."

"Thanks, can we tie her to a chair before I decide to do more damage than necessary?"

Fifteen minutes later she was securely fastened and coming to, Bridget was leaning against the wall, watching her and standing with Sam and Dean.

"You know, if you want to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," she teased.

Bobby came in, "I salted the windows and doors. If the demons are out there, they ain't getting in."

"Where's John, Meg?" Bridget asked, pushing her foot off the wall to move closer to her.

"You didn't ask very nicely."

"Where's John, bitch?" she asked again.

"Geez, you kiss your fiancé with that mouth? Oh, I forgot, you don't," she giggled.

Dean moved in past her. "You think this is a game? Where is he? What did you do to him?

"He died screaming. I killed him myself…" she grinned. Dean backhanded her. "That's kind of a turn on, you hitting a girl."

"You're not a girl," he growled.

Bridget grabbed his arm, her back to Meg. "Dean, come on. That's not right." she turned around, hitting Meg with her fist hard enough to jerk her head to the side. "That's right."

"Bridget, Dean," Bobby called them and they walked over to him.

"You okay" Sam asked, putting his hand on Bridget's shoulder.

She nodded, "Great."

"She's lying, he's not dead," said Dean.

"Dean, Bridge, you guys gotta be careful with her. Don't hurt her," Bobby warned them.

"Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why," Bobby said.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked with a frown.

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon, can't you tell?"

They turned and looked at Meg who was visibly shaking in the chair.

"You're trying to tell me that there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there? In the body and image that killed my fiancé?"

Bobby nodded.

Bridget ran her fingers through her hair, "This just gets better and better."

Sam grabbed his father's journal, opening it. "We can fix this at least…"

"Are you gonna read me a story?" Meg asked.

"Something like that. Go for it, Sam," Bridget said and Sam started reading Latin.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?" she asked.

"Oh, we're goin' for it, baby – whole nine yards," Dean told her. As Sam kept reading Meg winced and groaned in pain.

"I'm gonna kill you, rip your bones from your body," Meg threatened.

"No," Bridget smiled coldly. "You're going to burn in hell –unless you tell me where John is…" Meg was silent. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

Sam kept reading and Meg started screaming, trembling with the pain. "He begged for his life, begged to see you all one last time, then I slit his throat."

Bridget leaned in closer, "For your sake, I hope you're lying. Because if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter you in person for everything you've done to me."

Sam continued reading and pages of a nearby book started to turn. Bridget never turned her cold hard gaze from Meg.

"Where is he?" Dean asked.

"You won't take dead for an answer will you?" she asked, shaking in pain.

"Where is he?" Dean yelled.

"Dead!"

"No, no he's not," Bridget shook her head and noticed the silence. "Sam! Keep reading! Don't stop!"

Meg screamed louder with each word, her chair sliding, the lights in the room flickering.

"He will be!" she yelled and Sam stopped again.

"What?" Bridget asked.

"He's not dead," she panted. "But he will be after what we do to him…"

"How do we know you're tellin' the truth?" Dean asked.

"You don't," she shrugged.

"Sam! Read it," Bridget ordered.

"A building!" Meg stated. "Okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri? Where? Address?" Dean demanded.

Sam watched his brother and Bridget torture her, demanding information. The look in their eyes scared him, it was so cold, so angry, so…dark.

"I don't know!"

"And the demon we're looking for, where is it?" Sam asked.

"I don't know! I swear! That's everything. That's all I know," she said tears, exhausted and breathing heavily.

"Finish it," Bridget said to Sam.

Meg jerked her head up, "What? I told you the truth!"

"I don't care…"

"You bitch! You promised!"

"I lied…," Bridget said coldly. "Sam. Read…"

"We can still use her," Sam argued. "Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know," Dean shook his head.

"She lied!" Sam agued.

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped in there…" Bridget said despite her icy look.

"You're gonna kill her," Bobby said. "You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it, the girl dies."

"We are not going to leave her like that," Bridget shook her head.

"She's a human being," Bobby said.

"And we're going to put her out of her misery…Bobby she's been like this for four years…she was there when Will died, four years…finish it, Sam," Bridget said and walked over to Meg. As Sam kept reading Meg's body twitched and her eyes went coal black, her head fell back and she screamed as an enormous black cloud erupted from her mouth hitting the ceiling and disappearing. Meg's head fell forward, blood dripping from her mouth. She lifted her head up, blood seeping from her nose and mouth.

"She's alive," Dean said and cut her lose. "Get some water and blankets."

"Thank you," Meg said weakly to Bridget.

"Don't thank me…" she shook her head looking away.

"Just take it easy, shh," Sam directed her and lifted her up as gently as he could, laying her on the couch as she groaned in pain. "Sorry, sorry, I've got you, it's okay…"

"Five years…"

"What?" Bridget asked.

"It's been five years…"

"Shh, take it easy," Sam told her.

"I've been awake…for some of it. I couldn't move my own body…the things I did…it's a nightmare," she fixed her eyes on Bridget. "I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay," she said quietly. "It's okay…it wasn't you…"

"Was it telling the truth about our dad?" Dean asked.

"Yes…but it wants you to know…that they want you to come for him…"

"Do you know what it's looking for?" Sam asked, tucking a blanket around her from Bobby.

"Not there…other ones – awful ones…"

"Where are they keeping our dad?"

"By the r-river…sunrise…" she said.

"Sunrise? What does that mean?" Dean asked, but it was too late, she was dead. Bridget took a deep breath, telling herself she freed the girl from a five year imprisonment, but "Meg" was still alive and that settled nothing in her.

Bridget grabbed her shoulder bag off the table in the kitchen, ready to leave.

"You better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here," Bobby told them.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean asked.

He looked at him sideways, "You think you guys invented lyin' to the cops? I'll figure somethin' out," he handed Sam the book. "Here. Take this. You might need it."

"Thanks."

Dean added on, "Thanks…for everything. Be careful, all right?"

"You just go find your dad. And when you do, bring him around here, would ya? I won't even try to shoot him this time," he laughed half heartedly.

A few hours later they were parked by the river in Jefferson City. Sam was going through the book and Bridget was flipping through her sketch book, sitting on the bumper, while Dean cleaned his gun.

"You've been quiet," Sam said to her.

"Just getting mentally prepared is all," she said.

"Everything's gonna be fine," Sam said and took out a marker, drawing on the trunk of Dean's car.

"Dude! What are you drawing on my car?"

"It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?"

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?"

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we get dad."

"What are you talkin' about? We're bringin' the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use 'em on any demon. We've got to use 'em on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"Dean, you know your dad would be pissed if we used all the bullets," Bridget told him.

"He wouldn't want us to bring the gun," Sam added.

"I don't care! I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what dad wants?" Dean growled.

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too! Hell, you're the one who came and got me from school! You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just tryin' to finish it!" Sam yelled back.

Dean paused, "Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than you thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself to this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean. I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. that Colt is our leverage, and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't."

"Fine," Dean muttered.

"I'm serious, Dean."

"I said 'fine', Sam," he took the Colt out of his pocket and put it in the trunk and shut it before he started walking. Bridget glanced up and it dawned on her. She tapped Sam's arm, "Hey, I think I know what Meg meant ," she pointed across the street at the Sunrise Apartments.

"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed. "That's pretty smart. I mean, if those demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah. And make somebody attack us," Sam said.

"And so we can't kill 'em – a building full of human shields," Dean nodded.

"They know exactly what we look like too," Bridget was betting. "And they can look like anybody."

"This sucks out loud," sighed Dean.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam nodded. "All right, so, how the hell are we gonna get in?"

"Pull the fire alarm. Get all the civilians out," Bridget suggested.

"Okay, but then the city responds in what, seven minutes?" asked Sam.

"Seven minutes, exactly," she said with a nod. "Let's go…"

Sam ducked into the building, looking around before pulling the alarm. Outside, Dean was talking to a fireman while Bridget picked the lock on one of the trucks and grabbed three uniforms and helmets. She ducked away, nodding at Dean who ended his conversation following her.

Ten minutes later they were walking the hall in the apartment in firemen uniforms with the EMF reader.

"I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up," Dean said.

"Sure you did," Bridget snorted and the EMF started beeping frantically. They exchanged a look and Dean knocked on the door.

"This is the fire department, we need you to evacuate!"

The door unlocked and Sam and Dean burst through the door spraying the demons with fire extinguishers before shoving them into the closet. Sam and Dean held themselves against the door while Bridget poured salt around the edge of it. She stripped off her uniform and headed to the bedroom.

Dean rushed over to his Dad who lay tied on the bed, "Dad?...He's still breathing. Dad, wake up. Dad!" Dean took out his knife to cut the ropes.

"Wait!" Sam said.

"What?"

"He could be possessed?"

"Are you nuts?"

"Dean, we've got to know," Sam said. He took out a bottle of holy water and poured some on his dad. He woke up.

He blinked a couple times, "Sam? Why are you splashin' water on me?"

He smiled, relieved, "Dad? You okay?"

"They've been druggin' me…where's the Colt?"

"Don't worry, it's safe," Dean promised.

"Good," he nodded as Dean undid his bindings and helped him up, heading for the door.

Bridget put her arm out as she saw two firefighters enter through the front door, eyes black as night. "Oh shit, get back!" she yelled and slammed the bedroom door, locking it.

"Window," Sam instructed and Bridget went out first followed by Dean and John then Sam. Once on the ground she started heading towards the car, keys in her hand. She touched her necklace as it grew more, vibrating a bit. She turned around to see a possessed man knock Sam to the ground, punching him mercilessly.

"Sam!" Bridget shouted and rushed to him, trying to help Dean knock him off Sam. She was flung into the wall while Dean hit the windshield of a car.

Bridget growled, getting on her hands and knees, she looked up at the demon and focused her energy into a ball, throwing it at the demon. He flew off Sam skidding to the ground and was back on his feet, dark eyes set on her. Suddenly a bullet went through his head and she saw sparks as he fell down dead. She got to her feet and turned her head to see Dean holding the Colt.

Bridget kneeled down next to Sam, helping him sit up, his lip bleeding, eye bruised and cheek cut. "Sam, come on, babe. Come on, we got to go."

Bridget finished salting the doors and windows of the hotel room before sitting next to Sam on the bed with Dean. She looked at Sam's face once more. His eye was swollen pretty bad but his lip had scabbed over.

"Will you quit fussing?" Sam asked her.

"Sorry, it's a habit," she sighed, rubbing her hands on her jeans.

"How's Dad?" Sam asked Dean.

"He just needed a little rest," Dean said. "How are you?"

"I'll survive. Hey, you don't think we were followed do you?"

"I don't know," Bridget answered. "We couldn't have found a more out of the way place."

"Yeah…you guys saved my life back there…"

"So you're glad I brought the gun" Dean asked.

"Man, I'm just tryin' to thank you."

"You're welcome," Dean said and Sam walked to the other side of the room. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there…"

"You didn't have a choice, Dean," Sam told him.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me…"

"Then what does…"

"Killin' that guy…I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For you, Dad, or Bridget, the things I'm willing to do or kill…it scare me sometimes…"

Bridget put her hand on his shoulder, "You're not the only one who's scared by that…"

"You too?"

"I killed Meg without a second thought and the thing that bothers me is that I'm not that bothered by it…"

"It shouldn't," John said as he entered the room and Bridget fund it odd that her necklace felt like it was moving. "You did good."

"You're not mad?" Dean asked.

"For what?"

"Usin' a bullet?"

"Mad? I'm proud of you," he said and Bridget felt herself tense, eyes moving around the room. "You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you- you watch out for this family. You always have."

"Thanks…" Dean said. The lights in the room flickered and Bridget glanced at them.

"It found us," John said suddenly. "It's here…"

"The demon?" Sam asked.

"Sam, lines of salt on the door and windows," John ordered.

"I already did."

"Check them," he said and Sam nodded leaving the room. "Dean you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me," John said holding his hand out.

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished."

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun. Hurry," he said.

Bridget touched her necklace and looked at the room…wooden walls. The table in the room. It wasn't a warehouse she drew, it was this room. And the yellow eyed demon was in John.

"You'd be furious," Bridget said trailing off.

"What?" John said.

Bridget stood near Dean who was thinking the same thing. "That I wasted a bullet, Bridget's right, you'd be pissed." He aimed the gun at John. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me," John said holding his hands out.

"I know my Dad better than anyone, you're not him."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" John asked.

"We could ask you the same thing," Bridget said.

Sam came into the room at that point. "Dean? What the hell is going on?"

"Your brother and girlfriend have lost their minds," John answered.

"He's not John, Sam. I drew this room and us in it with the demon. I thought it was a warehouse but it wasn't. He's not your dad," Bridget said.

"What?"

"He's possessed," Dean added.

"Don't listen to him, Sammy," John pleaded.

"Dean, how do you know?"

"He's different."

"You know we don't have time for this. Sam?" John said.

"No," Sam shook his head. He stood next to Bridget with Dean.

"Fine. You're all so sure. Go ahead. Kill me," he said and hung his head. Dean near tears lowered the gun. "I thought so…"

Bridget's necklace got stronger and she gasped, thrown to the wall and pinned in place next to Sam, Dean pinned to the wall to her right. John picked up the Colt. "What a pain in the ass this thing has been…"

"It is you, we've been lookin' for you for a long time," Sam said.

"You found me," he grinned.

"But the holy water," Sam said.

He snorted, "You think somethin' like that works on somethin' like me."

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact, here," he put the gun on the table and Bridget saw another drawing was complete. "Make the gun float to you, psychic boy." Sam stared at it but nothing happened. John chuckled. "Well, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today. But this…this is worth the wait," he looked at Dean. "Your dad? He's in here with me – trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go. Or I swear to God-." Dean threatened.

"What?" he moved closer to Dean. "What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned. This is justice…" he turned to Bridget stepping towards her. "You know that little exorcism of yours. That was my daughter."

"Meg?" Bridget asked.

He looked at Dean. "The one in the alley. That was my boy. You understand?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Bridget said.

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family…" he winced slightly. "Oh right, I already did."

"Son of a bitch!" she yelled at him.

He looked at Dean, "What if I kill your family? Least the rest of them?"

"I wanna know why?" Sam asked.

"You mean, why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jessica?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Easy, they got in the way."

"In the way of what?"

"You Sammy, and all the children like you…"

Bridget gritted her teeth, "Then why my family?"

"Your nephew was special like Sam, but stronger, your brother found the right girl, had a miraculous little boy…sadly things don't always go as planned. Since he died in the fire…shame really. Your brother was a good riddance, he was in my way just like Lydia, your sister in law. Will was collateral damage and your misery amused me because I took away everything…and it's funny how history repeats itself. I mean, you saw this and you couldn't stop it. You couldn't stop me just like Sam couldn't save Jess."

"Go to hell," Sam spat.

"He was going to marry her, start a family," John said to Dean. "Did you know that? Bought a ring and everything?" he looked at Bridget. "He can't marry you though, you're not normal. You can't even have any kids of your own," he said and made a mock surprised face, putting a hand to his mouth. "Oh, did I just blow a secret for you? My mistake, but it is true," he smiled and pointed at Sam. "And I'm betting your little boyfriend here doesn't know it. Will knew, but he isn't Will, not even close, right? It's okay, he thinks the same thing of you when it comes to Jessica. In fact, the only thing you two really have in common is your grief over the people I killed, well me and my own."

"Yeah, and I killed your own. Your precious little daughter, right?" Bridget shot back, watching his smile falter. "And your boy in the alley, I tossed him good before Dean put a bullet in him, but getting rid of Meg was so much fun. I'd love to do it again."

He lifted his hand towards her and stopped himself, noticing she was getting to him, "And I'd love to kill your brother again…he was fun to kill…crushed under the weight of his own house, smothered to death with his son in his arms while you did nothing but watch. You watched as they died in that house and you watched the love of your life bleed to death…or was he the love of your life? Are you even sure anymore?" he glanced at Dean then Sam, shifting his eyes only, close enough to her that the others couldn't see, the demon smiled at her. "Doesn't matter now does it? You get to watch everyone you love die again…and I get to enjoy it again."

"Dude, seriously, can you just get it over with and quit with the monologing? I can't stand it much longer."

He turned his attention to Dean, "Funny…but that's all part of your M.O. isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."

"Oh, yeah, what's that?" he asked knowing he was going to get himself in it but at least he had forgotten about the pain he'd been causing Bridget. The monologues he could deal with. Him hurting her like that, he couldn't. He could handle it himself.

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is…they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight. It's more concern than he's ever shown for you. He even dotes after Bridget with more concern."

Bridget chuckled, deriving the attention. "I bet you're real proud of your kids too…but, oh wait, that's right I killed them, least Meg. Like I said, that as fun."

"I'm getting a little tired of your mouth," he said and lowered his head.

Bridget gasped, but not from any pain, from her glowing necklace that was warm against her neck. Yellow Eyes lifted his head in confusion, staring at it. It flared again and his frown eased into an amused look. "Son of a bitch," he chuckled. "Your brother is still a pain in my ass…I should have known it was why my daughter didn't get rid of you…she couldn't…your damn brother and dead boyfriend still protect you from my power."

"Ain't that a bitch," she smiled.

"No matter," he shrugged. "I don't have to hurt you to hurt you…I just need to pick the right…person."

Dean gasped as a circle of blood leaked from his chest and screamed in agony.

"DEAN!" Bridget screamed his name, tears in her eyes, struggling to break free as she saw the blood spreading on his chest. "Dean!"

"No!" Sam shouted.

"Dad! Dad, don't let him kill me," Dean struggled to speak, blood bubbling from his mouth.

"Dean!" Sam grunted trying to break free.

"DEAN!" Bridget screamed his name, tears coming down her cheeks. This hurt worse than him hurting her, much worse. She could take pain. She couldn't take losing someone else, she couldn't lose Dean. He was her best friend, the first person she got to know, got to care for in her "new" life. He helped her more than she ever told him. Losing him would be losing part of herself. "Leave him alone!"

"Make me stop, Bridget. Save him the way you couldn't save your brother."

Bridget focused her eyes on the table. If it was a fight he wanted, it was a fight he'd get and she'd tear him apart. She boiled her anger down until she felt it vibrating in her. She closed it around the Colt. The gun shook on the table as she stared at it, doing what Sam couldn't. It moved across the wood and Yellow Eyes grin faded quickly. He took two steps and back handed her –hard. Bridget saw stars in her vision, felt the blood running from her cheek as he broke skin from the hit, felt her brain rattle and throb, disorienting her.

"I underestimated you…too bad you couldn't do that four years ago, might have made a difference, not like you're making much of one now. Still can't save anyone, can you, Bridget? No…you still get to watch the ones you love die, my how history repeats itself. First Derek, Lydia, your nephew and Will, now Sam and Dean…I think I'll let you live again, your misery amuses me."

"Fuck you," she grumbled through the haze.

He back handed her again and she felt the blood drip down her face. "Huh…I can hurt you after all, just not with any power I have looks like." He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him and she spat in his face.

"Go to hell where I sent your little bitch of a daughter…" she growled.

He hit her again and she saw stars fly across her vision as blood spilt down her chin from her lip. "You'll be there soon enough," he hissed at her.

He focused back on Dean who screamed in pain.

"Dean…" Bridget whimpered his name in her daze.

"Dad, please," Dean moaned and his head dropped unconscious and Yellow Eyes put his head down suddenly.

John lifted his head, his eyes normal. "Stop," he said tearfully. "Stop it."

The force holding them in place let go and Bridget had to steady herself with the wall, still dizzy as Sam lunged for the gun. She hurried to Dean, half catching him, half letting him fall across her as she cradled his head in her lap.

"Dean?" she shook his shoulder slightly, running a hand across his face, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Dean?"

Her heart relaxed a bit when his eyes blinked open wearily. "Bridgey?"

"Yeah, I'm right here," she said, touching his cheek, her other hand going across his chest to hold him close.

"You look like hell…" he said.

She chuckled in her tears, "Yeah, well, you aren't lookin' so pretty yourself."

"We are so…goin' on vacation after this…you owe me a drink…"

"Deal," she promised and looked up to see Sam pointing the gun at John. This nightmare wasn't over yet.

His eyes were yellow again. "You shoot me, you kill Daddy."

"I know," Sam said and shot John in the leg causing Bridget to jump slightly.

John fell to the floor unconscious and Sam hurried to where Bridget sat with Dean. "Dean? Hey," he looked at Bridget. "How is he?"

"He's lost a lot of blood," she said quietly, still worried.

"How are you?"

"I've had worse," she told him, running her hand through Dean's hair.

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked weakly.

"He's right here. He's right here, Dean," Sam reassured him.

"Go check on him…Bridge has me, I'm fine…"

Sam nodded and hurried over to John, shaking his shoulder. "Dad? Dad?"

John stirred and became suddenly alert. "Sammy. It's still alive. It's inside me. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!"

Sam had tears in his eyes as he grabbed the gun and pointed it at him.

"Do it! Now!" John yelled.

"Sam…don't you do it. Don't," Dean yelled weakly.

Sam looked at Bridget and she felt the same confliction. That demon killed her family and his…but it was John…it was his dad…it was a lose lose situation. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

"You've got to hurry! I can't hold on to it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me!...Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Dean said in tears.

"You do this, Sammy! Sammy…" he was cut off by his own screams as the demon erupted from his mouth in a black cloud, disappearing through the floor boards in the room. John looked at Sam sadly, breathing heavy. All four of them were in tears and Bridget leaned her head against Dean's. He put his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair.

"It's okay," he whispered to her.

"Nothing about this is okay," she whispered back so only he could hear. "Nothing…everything is wrong…Dean, I…" she stopped herself from saying anything in the moment. She was with Sam. It didn't matter now. It was nothing. "I owe you a lot of drinks."

"I'm gonna need 'em," he muttered with a smile she was guessing since face was still near his.

She kissed his temple, "We better get you in the car and to the hospital so I can go on my vacation."

"Promise to wear a scandalous bikini?" he teased as she helped him sit up.

"No, no guarantee."

"No fun," he muttered.

"Sam," she looked over at him. "I need you to help me get your brother in the car. Can you do that?"

He nodded, "Yeah." He came to Dean's other side, putting his arm around his shoulder and helping him up.

"John, we'll be right back for you. Try not to disappear," Bridget said, half joking though she knew nothing would make light of this situation.

Bridget opened the door to the back seat and they got Dean situated comfortable. She was about to close the door and go back inside with Sam, but Dean's hand closed on her wrist with more strength than she knew he had left. She looked back at him, "What is it?"

"Stay with me," he mumbled to her, eyes half open. "Please…"

She touched his face gently and nodded, "Okay, I'll stay…" she turned to Sam. "Can you handle your Dad?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I got him. Stay with Dean, make sure he stays awake."

Bridget crawled into the back seat with him, sitting in the middle next to Dean and closing the door nearest him. She put her hand on his face, rubbing his cheek gently. "We'll get you fixed up, you'll be back to your usual self…not sure if that's a good or bad thing though…God Dean, I'm so sorry…"

"For wha'?" he asked, turning his head towards her as he leaned it against the window.

"For doing this to you…he was trying to hurt me so he went after you…I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault… kinda an honor he chose me and not Sammy…"

"Yeah, well, I've known you a lot longer," she explained.

"Rather have him hurt me than you," he said quietly.

"Why?" she shook her head.

"Just cuz…"

She bit her lip, fighting her tears, "I'm glad I was able to stop him enough…"

"Cost you your pretty lil face."

"It'll heal," she said still feeling the throb in her head and cheek, and there'd be a bruise near her eye for sure.

"I'm sorry…"

"Bout what?"

"That you can't…you know, can't have kids…"

She grimaced slightly, "Well…he didn't know the whole truth…I can but it's rare…I'll explain it another day."

The passenger door opened and John scooted in. He looked in the back, "How's he doin?"

"He'll be okay once we get him to the hospital," she promised. "You?"

"Be better off dead…"

"Don't say that," Dean grumbled, barely awake now. Bridget rubbed her free hand on his shoulder, sliding her hand from his cheek to his hand, holding it in hers, he squeezed lightly and she returned it.

Sam got in the driver's seat and they were off. "Just hold on, all right?" he said to Dean. "Hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it?" John asked ands Bridget sighed. Of course it was starting already, why wait? She blinked a couple times, tensing as she felt her necklace buzz and got a feeling of déjà vu. She grabbed her seat belt, buckling herself in then reached across Dean, securing him to his seat. She wasn't sure why she did that…it was just this feeling. She squeezed his fingers and he did the same, weaker than before.

John continued his rant, "I thought we saw eye to eye on this – killin' the demon comes first. Before me."

Sam glanced in the review mirror and Bridget and Dean returned his look. "No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we still have the Colt. We still have one bullet left. We just have to start over, all right, I mean, we already found the demon-."

Three things happened at once. Bridget gasped as her necklace vibrated and flashed, the semi truck plowed into the Impala, tossing her to the left and her head smashed against the seat, and she found herself in oblivion, seeing nothing at all. Her sketch book had fallen out of the satchel, coincidentally opened to the drawing of a car smashed by a semi truck, another vision come true as she lay unconscious with the Winchester's in the smashed in car.

SEASON 2 COMING SOON