I was standing in a dark alleyway between tall buildings. It was clearly daytime, but the sky was dark with thick grey clouds. The wind was strong, and I couldn't help shivering. I felt nervous, like someone was stalking me.

I turned and peered into the darkness behind me, but my fragile, powerless eyes couldn't see through it. I hurried forward, hoping to get away from that paralyzing feeling. But however far I went, I felt like someone was following behind me.

I was too afraid of the sense I was getting to pay attention to what I was walking into. A woman was holding another person against the wall. There was a pool of blood on the ground. The woman let go of the other person, who slumped forward and fell to the ground. His eyes were open, staring forward blankly. A fanged bite mark on his neck dripped with bloody saliva. He was dead.

The woman stood above him. I guessed she was a vampire. Her slightly open mouth dripped with blood, and a bit of what could've been human skin was stuck between two of her fangs. If I was still an archangel, I'd have instantly smote her and not worried about it. As it was, I trembled and took a few steps backwards. How did humans kill vampires again? My mind came up blank.

I didn't know what to do. I'm not human enough to even have their protections on me, and I don't have any added power to make for it. I don't have survival instincts, I can't get an adrenalin rush, I'm not quickly adaptable, etc. So I walked backwards, tripped over my own feet, and fell over.

I started crying, because falling like that hurt. It probably wouldn't've hurt a normal person enough to make them cry, but my pain threshold is low and I was already strained emotionally. Of course, the angry vampire standing over me threateningly wasn't helping.

And then someone stepped past me, and I knew instantly that he was the person who was stalking me in the alley. He drew a weapon of some sort, I couldn't see what it was in the darkness, and fought with the vampire. I scrambled backwards and away from the fight, my tears still falling. It was a violent fight, and I was afraid that either of them could hurt me unintentionally. Or intentionally.

I wasn't sure who I was more afraid of: the bloodlust filled vampire, or the dark man who'd followed silently behind me in the alleyway. I wasn't sure if either of them would leave me alive, given the choice. I was hoping they'd destroy each other and the victor would be too hurt themselves to care about hurting me, but I knew it wasn't likely.

My stalker's weapon connected with the vampire's neck and sliced through it. I could hear as the blade cut through the her muscles. Blood spewed around them as the vampire's head came off and dropped to the pavement with a dull thud. The body fell as well, sliding over sideways and dropping into a puddle. Muddy, bloody water splashed.

The man who'd been stalking me crouched in front of me. I finally saw him well enough to realize who he was. Sam. My breath caught in my throat. I leaned backwards, cowering away from him and covering my face. I waited for pain. It didn't come.

A few heartbeats later I opened my eyes and lowered my hands. Sam offered me a hand up. After a moment's hesitation and uncertainty, I took it. He pulled me to my feet and steadied me when my knees threatened to collapse.

"What are you doing in my dream?" Sam asked, but it didn't sound like he wanted an answer. "This was a pretty routine vampire hunt until you showed up."

I shrugged. "Th-this is a dream?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Odd you don't know that, being a part of it."

I was a little confused. If this was a dream, then my dream Sam thought I was a part of his dream. So whose dream was it? I gave up the question.

"O-ok," I said. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Sam said casually. "It's just a dream. Probably no coherent place." He smiled at me. "Don't worry about it."

I ducked my head, thinking. Then I looked up at him, tears shining in my eyes. "Please, do you hate me?" I knew the answer was yes, but I had to hear him say it. Not that I wanted to, just that I needed to. I needed to know.

Sam didn't answer immediately. "You've never asked that in a dream before," he said, considering for a moment. "I didn't hate you when we first met. You were cute and funny. A little annoying, but I liked you. And then you were just another monster. Dean killed you, and I didn't think any more of it. And then Dean started dying-" Anger shown in Sam's eyes, and he looked more like he had recently. "I hate you."

I backed away from him. Why had I asked him that? It hadn't helped at all. A tear trickled down my cheek. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I wish there was a way to fix this."

"Well, there isn't," Sam snapped. "You can't change the past." He punctuated his words by hitting me repeatedly.

I fell over and cowered against the street. A little of my blood flowed onto the ground. I think it was from my nose.

"Stop it!" I begged, holding my hands up in a defensive posture.

"You didn't stop hurting Dean!" Sam yelled. "You never stopped! And I tried everything. I begged, I prayed, I cried, I screamed, I held out this stupid hope that someone would care enough to make you stop! And you know what good it did me? None!"

I cowered away from him. He was so angry. And he should be. He was right. But- I couldn't handle it. And I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I didn't know how to get Sam back. The normal Sam. The compassionate man who cared so much.

I got up and ran away from him. It didn't do me any good; Sam's legs were longer than mine, and he was in much better shape. He caught up with me before I could go ten paces. Sam tackled me and we both fell to the ground. He lay on top of me, pinning me down.

I shivered, terrified. "Sam, please," I whispered.

"There's no justice in this world," Sam said. "All I've got is revenge."

And suddenly I pitied him. I'd been so busy being terrified and hating him for how much he'd hurt me that I hadn't thought about what a horrible position he was in. All Sam had left was revenge against me, and revenge is worth less than nothing.

I got one hand free and brought it up to rest against his cheek. "Sam, listen to me," I said. "Revenge will only hurt you in the end. You have to let go."

Sam pulled away from me. "I wish you weren't in this stupid dream," he snapped. "Or I want to wake up."

"Th-then just walk away and l-leave me alone," I retorted weakly. "Just go!" I turned away from him.

"No," Sam said coolly. "You need to feel pain like I did when you made me watch my brother die, over and over again." He grabbed my upper arm, hard enough to leave bruises. I cried out. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt me, but I was too new to all the changed sensations of being graceless to hide the pain. "You know what, Gabriel? You're fun to hurt." He kicked me in the crotch, and I gasped in pain, doubling over.

I curled up in a ball to try to defend at least a part of me from him. I fought to hold back tears of pain and hurt. This was horrible. And Sam wouldn't even leave me alone. He grabbed my upper arms and forced me to stand. He was so much stronger than me that it wasn't even hard for him. He dragged me up and pulled me against him, almost like a hug. But it wasn't gentle or loving. It felt like an attack.

I shivered and tried to pull away, but he was too strong. I didn't want to even use my full strength, so he had no problem keeping me there. I guess I just wanted to make sure he knew I wanted to get away.

"I wonder if I'd be able to give you Stockholm Syndrome," Sam mused. "I know it doesn't count since this is a dream, and you're just an idea in my subconscious, but I wonder if I could." He slapped me hard across the face, then dug his nails through my cheek.

I tried to jerk away from him, crying out in pain. "What's wrong with you?" I demanded, struggling with my tears again. I didn't want to cry, even if it was just a dream. "Just let me go! This is stupid. I hate it."

"No." Sam tightened his arms around me. Not painfully, just enough to make sure I couldn't even think of escaping.

And he had a point. Maybe getting Stockholm Syndrome would be a nice break. I could just stop fighting him and relax for a bit. But I'm too ridiculously stubborn, and it wouldn't work anyway. I'm too attached to the beauty Sam's soul used to have to settle for this broken version of him. He's not himself anymore, and I want the normal Sam back. I want to look through his chest to that glowing, beautiful soul with all it's light and love Sam. Not this mess.

Sam pushed my chin up so he could have better access and kissed me. With my mind filled with memories of hours spent watching the old Sam's soul and daydreaming of his lips against mine, I couldn't make myself realize that this was the present, darkened Sam kissing me. I melted helplessly into him, kissing back passionately.

Sam pulled away. I stared up into his hazel eyes for a moment, catching my breath. And then his eyes hardened, and I stopped seeing the Sam I'd fallen so hard for. I realized I'd just kissed my dark, nasty kidnapper who'd tortured me, and I started fighting frantically to escape his arms. He wouldn't let go of me. I was too petrified to speak, or I would've begged him to let me go. I couldn't believe what I'd just done.

I slumped against him, not fighting anymore. There was just no escaping. Why did he have to be so much stronger than me? It was just- It was just stupid. Argh! I didn't bother to blink back a few tears, and they trickled down my cheeks to my chin and splashed onto Sam's flannel shirt.

Sam kicked my legs out from under me and somehow managed to set me on the ground. He straddled me, and I felt really nervous. I was instinctively sure the situation was going to be a complete disaster. Maybe because it was a threatening sexual situation. I started fighting to escape again.

Sam caught my wrists and forced them above my head. I shivered and tried to squirm into the ground. Obviously it didn't work. The pavement is a pretty solid surface. Hey, I couldn't exactly be logical in that situation.

Sam leaned over me and stared into my eyes. Caught more completely by his eyes than all the things he'd done to physically immobilize me, I stared back, frozen. I think he was searching for something in my eyes. I don't know what it was. I don't know if he found it or not, and I don't know if he even wanted to find whatever it was. He rolled off me, freeing my hands at the same time.

I didn't think to try to run away again. Whatever he'd done to my eyes had me pretty thoroughly mown over still. I sat up slowing, staring at him. He offered me a small smile that I didn't return.