The gun was still loaded, still pointed at Dean's head, but at least he was now seated on a comfortable puffy armchair. Which was an important development because it was the only goddamn thing that was positive about this whole fucking act.

"Lady, I haven't got all day. So you're gonna say what the hell it is you want, or I'm gonna get going. As simple as that." His lips were pursed, eyes anything but impressed by the gun held in the trembling woman's hands.

"Justmakethemgoaway" Dean raised an eyebrow as the lady's body was wracked by uncontrollable tremors "Makethemgoawaymakethemgoawaymakethemgoaway"

Fucking perfect.

Dean carefully stood up and seeing that it didn't seemed to trigger any (violent) reaction he whispered "I can." The lady gazed up with such a pleading and hopeful look Dean caught himself praying he was right "But you have to tell me what you see." She munched her lip, fear evident on her features, still not trusting him. "I'm not with them, I can promise you that," He huffed bitterly.

As stupid as it sound, that seemed to do the trick. "T-they.. S…ss.. say… I-I'm just… that I'm just.. I-imagining it.. That it's- that it's all in… in my h-head…" The gun clattered on the ground as her hands gripped her hair "inmyheadinmyheadinmyheadinmyheadinmyhead"

He gently but firmly grabbed her wrists trying to ground her, "Tell me what you saw, I can help you, I can make them go away" he softly urged.

She pried her eyes open taking a quivering breath, at least she's making conscious efforts to calm down "But I know… I-I knOW they're real…" She slowly stretched her arms towards Dean, rolling up her sleeves, making her palms face up. Her fore- and upper arms were covered in thin lacerations so numerous there wasn't a place which wasn't stained with fresh or dried blood. "They are little but many," the woman spoke with sudden certainty "Ash black creatures, the size of a hand, disproportionately long teeth and claws…" her breathing accelerated again "Nobody sees them.. No-nobody sees th-them b-but m…Mmm..me! Please! Tell me.. t-tell ME! S.. it's r-real! Please!"

Dean looked into her eyes, which sparkling with insanity "It is. All of it is. The nightmare is nearly over. But I need to know when it started; I need to know where the source is."

"B-b-bridge, the…the girl…We j…Jjjust t-talked… And th-then she.. she took m..mm..my h-hand in h-hers…" She stopped again, munching her lip, gaze darting across the room, sounding crazed even to her own ears, but Dean's gaze exempt of disbelief prompted her to go on "Sh-she ssss..smiled, and dis.. disa.. disappeared." She balled her hands into fists "She disappeared."

That's when Cherry decided to text. Dean immediately flipped his phone open. Sam's gone. Going to the bridge.

oOo

Jess is on the ceiling, flames licking her body, house on fire. It had been on fire before, not the same house, not the same person, but because of the same boy. Because of Sam Winchester, the psychic, the human with demon blood, the boy king, the monster. The one who failed to protect one of his own to be consumed by fear and rage, the one that had let an innocent woman turn into a werewolf, condemning her to die, the one that had willingly sucked in demon blood because of his lust for power, the one responsible for the apocalypse. He had let more people than he could count, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. Finally there they were, all he had failed, cursing him, pleading him, clawing at him, united for one and same cause: destroying the faulty. And he didn't fight them, why would he? They were right.

oOo

He wasn't conscious, that much she, or it, could tell: he was dreaming, and it certainly wasn't pleasant, she would make sure of that. The best part was that she was but partially responsible for it. The man named Sam was already overflowing with soul destroying guilt; which was absolutely fantastic, made her work so much easier really.

Normally it would take days, weeks, or even months before her victim would feel guilty enough for her to be able to manifest her raven-black minions. But with Sam… oh with little Sammy not only could she summon them right away, but they were enormous, she had never the opportunity to summon such giant specimens before. Then again, that was easily explained by her current victim's off the scale culpability lingering at the surface of his thoughts. A twinge of sympathy showed in her eyes, he probably wouldn't even need her help to jump to his death if it wasn't for his brother and his iron will to fix the world he broke.

The human struggled weakly again, eyes remaining closed as his sobs alternated between desperate apologies and slurred nonsense. She noticed he had begun to shiver, and quickly concluded that it was probably the result of the dive in icy waters combined with blood loss. Letting him slip away would mean sacrificing all that precious energy his guilt would provide, and she was already so weak... the creature approached the shuddering body, snapping a linen cloth into existence. She didn't pay attention to the harsh cry the human choked out as she crudely bandaged him, having little interest in spending energy to actually care. Even if the treatment left the man cowering in pain, it would at least stop the bleeding; she hoped.

She wasn't good at this, wasn't good at healing, for the simple fact that her hands were ever meant to do it, and maybe that was a good thing. After all, it wasn't like she wanted her captive to regain full health; an injured man made a better prisoner. She had learnt that over time.

oOo

"YOU SAID YOU'D PROTECT HIM!"

If the thing was anywhere near them, there were now two possibilities: or it had fled, or it prepared for a full force attack.

"He went HAVOC DAMN IT!" Cherry snapped back, instantly breaking her resolve of playing it placid. "THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!"

Dean was cut short. "They're not supposed to do that?" he repeated in a breath before his tone grew stone cold.

Fuck.

"What do you mean they're not supposed to do that!?" He brutally gripped Cherry's collar, slightly lifting her from the ground. She struggled fiercely, fear fueling her uncoordinated moves, but he sternly held her in place. "Now you've got to have a damned good explanation for this if you like your windpipe uncrushed," he whispered just over her choking breaths.

"Sam got—" she fought to draw oxygen "targeted. I—"

Dean abruptly released his grip and Cherry instantly fell to the ground, hands gripping her throat as her body shook with harsh coughs. "You what?" Dean asked tone as clipped as could be.

"Sam, he, the things, the headache, the glances over his shoulder, the alarm at noises" Cherry managed, "Those were not caused by a detox of some sort, he was scared, immensely scared of something out there. Felt safer in places where he could see everything, like a room, like the hotel room."

Dean stepped dangerously close, voice heavy with threat "So you're saying that this whole time you knew that my brother was going to end up jumping over a goddamned bridge, and you did strictly nothing to prevent it?"

"I…" that was exactly what she did.

"You'll have to do better than that to convince me," Dean growled.

"The victims, they normally take days, even months before… before "snapping". I thought, I just thought we would have time to make up a plan with Sam to find out what's going on."

"Using my little brother as a lab rat? Come on, is that really supposed to make me leave you unharmed?"

Again a step closer.

Cherry swallowed hard. Don't mess with the Winchesters, if you hurt one of those crazy bastards, the other one will move heaven and hell just to find you. And believe me, hellhounds are easier to ditch than either of them. She was already all the way in the mess, trying something could only make her chance of survival go up, or so she thought.

"I'm just trying to get to the thing that caused all this! I tried to find it on my own but there is just no getting it! Without a target it doesn't even manifest! And just when I'm about to think that I can't hunt it down, here you come, the two most tragically famous of hunters, striding into town, and it immediately latches on one of you! It's just a too great opportunity to pass!" She was shaking out of her skin of terror, eyes dilated as a hunted animal, breathing hectic to the point where Dean suspected hyperventilation. "H-How crazy— as crazy as it sounds, I would have given anything, a-anything, for it to be me in place of Sam, but the monster doesn't seem to want me at all! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I just want it to stop, all of it, I just…" Cherry abruptly fell silent.

It wasn't her words that made Dean's anger settle, nor was it the utter panic and pleas. He had already tortured the beggars and the terrified; it didn't faze him anymore, even if he was disgusted by his coldness. It was her breathing easing out, her gaze locking to the ground, her posture slid in the perfect embodiment of resignation. She would accept her fate as it came.

"Get up," Dean snapped "You're wasting what little time we have to save him. And believe me, you'd better hope we find him as little harmed as possible. "

She didn't need to be ordered twice. Instantly she jerked to her rather weak feet and followed the lone Winchester to the waiting Impala.