Since it's Christmas and it's fun to say: merry Christmas to y'all even though this thing has nothing to do with it at all (okay now you can continue reading what's hopefully still interesting).

There are three very distinguishable kinds of silences on this earth. The most pleasant is the one created by mutual understanding, where you just enjoy the absence of words; the second is very well known to those who are even a bit awkward socially, the silence provoked by a lull in the conversation where your inner dialogue reverts to ohgodImustsaysomethingdon'tbeawkward. The one hanging between Cherry and Dean was neither of these two. It was a thick silence becoming tenser with every second, one of those you could practically touch, making everything feel utterly wrong, emphasizing the malaise instead of soothing it.

This silence lingered until Dean had closed and salted every possible entrance, when he anew made eye contact with -as tensed-up as a bow string- Cherry. "The witness you sent me too, she had a whole collection of scratches on her arms." He stopped, looking for any kind of reaction, but as impatient Cherry was to hear what followed, she kept her mouth pressed into a thin line "Said it was caused by black creatures which appeared after she met a woman... which of course vanished into thin air after touching her hand. Makes anything jump to mind?

Cherry's stiff turndown head movement was interrupted as realization hit her. "Black creatures? I.. before running off Sam tried to shoot what he described as really huge black monsters with long claws and teeth, but I couldn't see them. Liar. "And…" She trailed off.

"Do you really wanna test my patience now?"

The response came whispered, barely audible "It slashed him across the torso." And he saw what I am and sooner or later they will both find out and it will be the end and oh god I should run as far as I can while I'm still able to. But that was the thing, she couldn't.

Cherry shook again, her breathing caught in her throat but unlike Dean, she didn't seem to notice. "Pull yourself together!" he said harshly, snapping Cherry out of it instantly. "We at least know that it was the same freak for all of them. What we need to know now is what connects all this lovely folks to one another."

She had already done that, try to see what the victims had in common like her father always did when facing a case, but she had found nothing. Even her ability to appropriate the memory of people giving her no lead to follow, but now it was different. She had, thanks to the brothers, gained more substance to work on: she now knew what caused their constant alertness and that the length before what she called the "snap" was way more variable than she had initially anticipated. Maybe she could suck out some information from that…

Dean who had opened Sam's laptop waved Cherry to come sit in his place "Now you're gonna rethread their whole life, step by step if necessary, but find what they have in common." he ordered, the steely edge never leaving his voice.

She began immediately, but only focused her internet research on two persons: Fidel Eldred, the first to jump, and Janel Marasini, the one she had sent Dean to. All the memories of the remaining victims were already seared into her brain, which obviously was much more valuable than any information the internet could provide.

As she dug deeper and deeper into the lives of her two subjects, she finally saw something that eventually could correspond to what she so desperately sought: they had both committed more or less serious crimes during their lives. Fidel had deserted the army when he had just finished his basic military training, and Janel who had rarely been lucky in life, was at one point of her timeline pressed into stealing to survive.

One man's pain is another's gain.

She fumbled in her –no, not hers their—memories without checking if Dean was watching. What had they done? Who or what had they harmed?

An image of a man in his middle twenties in tears, screaming curses and the word cheating over and over again at a young Mrs. Gordon flashed across her mind. Maybe she had to take crime in the large sense? Cherry's vision jumped to a school where she heard the owner of the memory laugh as he swung another one's bag into a pool. If that kid only knew where this sick joke was going to get him one day... The imagery scenery changed again. She was in an abandoned church. Ruby was looking at her, finally revealing her true colors as a never ending flood of guilt and betrayal crushed over her, drowning her, suffocating her. She had meant to do this for a good purpose, she had meant to stop the apocalypse, she had meant to save all that she could, but of course it backfired… it always did, and that's what was killing her… killing Sam…

oOo

This was fun, this was really fun. The deity looked in amazement at what it had created: there in pseudo flesh and blood stood Dean Winchester. And he wasn't just standing, no no no, he was meticulously serving his little brother the beating he deserved.

She had just for the first time in a very long period, been able to personalize a minion that she didn't need to control, just let it do its job. She smiled slightly; the would-be-Dean now punctuated every argument with a certain physical assault, not so extreme it would aggravate the prisoner's health drastically, but it sure was aimed to hurt. Above all things her creature was intelligent! The strength the human provided her was more than impressive at this point.

Despite her euphoria, she thought about stopping her creation, merely out of gratitude, but as she felt the effect of the treatment she resigned immediately. The human's culpability seemed to increase with each hit.

oOo

The sharp intake of breath made Dean look up from the loads of books he was trying to find answer in, and he was damned glad he did; Cherry was riddled with spasms, tears streaming freely down her cheeks, her breath was getting labored and there was again thick crimson blood dripping from her nose. He bolted towards her and gripped her shoulders, shaking her in the process, but it was only when Cherry's name rolled off his tongue that her eyes wildly shot open to reveal big terrified eyes.

Correction: big, terrified, green and yellow-interwoven colored eyes.

Dean instantly recoiled and his vision darted around the room searching for the nearest gun. "Guilt." Cherry breathed out loud and clear, the fear in her features disappearing.

"What do you mean guilt ?" Dean answered back instantly. Keep her talking, keep her busy.

Cherry turned her head "That's what…" she trailed off again. Dean had a gun pointed at her, one of those with rock salt bullets. Her happiness of finding the information vanished instantly. "…connected the victims." Dean had still not fired, so she decided to go on, she wasn't complete demon, salt wouldn't hurt in the slightest, but the impact... "You see, I think the black creatures and the time you have before going havoc is proportional to the guilt you're feeling. Every one of the victims had something to reproach him- or herself. For example the woman you visited had done lots of stealing for survival. Nothing important, just food and money to survive, but it made her feel guilty nonetheless, but not as much as the other victims because as you have seen she still hasn't jumped. Sam on the other hand…"

"Give me my brother back." Dean interrupted between clenched teethes.

She had been worried to the bone of what would happen to her if Dean ever found out what she was, but now she didn't seem to care at all, she was boiling with pure, white hot rage, Winchesters could be thick, so fucking thick. "Think for once in your life you goddamn idiot!" she spat, venom dripping thickly from every of her clipped words. "For one, I can't be at two places at a time. For two, if I wanted your brother so badly, I wouldn't have said that he was missing. For three, WHY WOULD I HAVE ASKED FOR YOUR BLOODY HELP IF I WANTED YOU DEAD!" She took in a shuddering breath as she tried to calm again. "This is exactly why I haven't told you—" she gestured angrily at her eyes, words forming knots in her throat she couldn't get rid of "Against all the fucking common sense of the world you expect me to be the monster even though I've tried to help this whole time for god's sake! You're as stupid as the townspeople holding me responsible for all this crap!"

"What do you want? Why would you help?" Dean fired back not at all impressed by the outburst.

Cherry laughed and it was barely fake, Jesus Christ. "Have you ever seen a demon that gets a nosebleed when they use their powers? Because I never have. So what is the conclusion: I'm not a total abomination, just partially. Meaning? I can choose whichever side I want, and my side at the moment is living in god damned peace and quiet with no ghost or whatever it is being able to drown people I care about and fucking up my reputation. Is that good enough? Or do I have to strike a deal to not have a bullet hole between my eyes?"

Dean smiled but it was more a grimace than anything "Do you honestly expect me to believe you?"

"Step aside."

"Make me."

Cherry clutched her short hair in frustration "You have no idea how much I want to. But you know what? I. Can't. You. Moron." Her voice was forced, turned to sound less angered "Let me show practically that I ain't: I'm just gonna step over the salt line that's all."

Cherry waited until Dean was at a distance that she couldn't lash out to him. Only then did she advance towards the salt line he had created by the room door, easily stepping over it. "Happy ?"

The gun didn't even move an inch "Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you anyways."

"You're fighting a creature capable of driving you mad just because you feel guilt. I bet you that, if Sam is any indication, your head is overflowing with it. I guess you're just better at hiding it than your brother. Whereas me, I'm just a normal half-demon having nothing more to reproach herself than any other human being." Dean wanted to say something along the lines of "sarcasm isn't going to help you out" but Cherry didn't even give him a chance "Don't get me started over your guardian angel."

Checkmate.

Dean finally lowered with as much reluctance a human could have, promising himself that at the littlest mark of change of heart, he would dispose of her, permanently. Until then he was hooked up with whatever she was supposed to be. He. Was. hooked up with a half demon. What the holy fuck.

"You had a nose bleed in the café…" Dean almost talked to himself.

"I wanted to know if you two were really who you looked like, and accessed Sam's memory to do so. A touch is enough."

Dean repressed a new flash of hatred "That's how you knew about the apocalypse and Sam's kink for demon blood… Do you ever happen to tell the truth in your life?"

She was about to make a vicious comment but her mind was suddenly struck by one of those rare burst of pure insanity "I know how to get Sam back."

"You should have started with that argument." Dean groaned Cherry ignored the comment and continued

"With my ability I don't just acknowledge people's memories, I live them in first person, with all the emotions that go with it." Dean tried not to think about all the implications that must have carried, "So, I can make myself feel just as much guilt as Sam, and she won't skip the perfect opportunity that I am. Once inside I just dissociate from it, get your brother out, and if I'm lucky we can even find out what the hell that thing is."

This plan was oddly dangerous for her, Dean thought. Why would she put herself at stake for a stranger's life? But the clock was still ticking, and the possibility of finding Sam, and not only his body, was growing slimmer with each passing second. He had neither the time to wait for Castiel to finally answer his prayers, nor the luxury of dismissing the only credible plan at his disposal.

His only hope was truly lay with a woman who, wouldn't even tell them her real name, had lied to them, and violated Sam's private live in the most obvious way possible.

On the other hand, questioning his life choices had never led to anything good. "Let's go."

oOo

Dean had been waiting for about three hours at the spot where Cherry had seen the vanishing tracks; and if it weren't for the clear view on the bridge, he would have sworn Cherry had run off. But now remember kids, as a, for you obscure, French fabulist -poet once said: "patience and the fullness of time do more than force or fury." Indeed, his waning patience was rewarded: Cherry finally jumped over the railing (he couldn't help but admit that it was satisfactory). Once again, he retracted into hiding, feverishly praying that this positively insane plan was going to work.

oOo

Her body was thrown, lurched in every possible way as she fatuously tried to keep the icy water from flooding her starving lungs. Yet still, in this situation where her primal instincts overwhelmed all rational thought, where darkness gradually slipped into her mind, she couldn't help but think that – he punched his brother square in the face with as much power his trained muscles could provide, sending him crashing into the mirror. Despite that Dean charged at him again, but he was ready; instead of trying to block him, he dodged and launched him into the glass table. He walked towards the brother that had sacrificed his soul in exchange of his life, the brother that always had had his back no matter the odds, and clamped his hands around his throat – She deserved it.

oOo

All Dean had done is blinking, he hadn't even taken his eyes of them, he just blinked and the white dressed lady carrying Cherry were gone. No trace to follow, nothing that even remotely proved that it had really happened. He screamed out in anger and frustration, lashing out on the nearest oak; he had let this this happen, it was all his fau— NO! He bottled the feelings up immediately. He was not going to give that son of a bitch any reason to lay its claws on him before he knew how to kill the thing. He forced his breathing pattern into a deep and calm rhythm. If he wanted to be useful he had to regain at least a sliver of self-control. So he thought of the one bright thing this situation implied: as much as it pained him to admit it, the fact that Sam probably wasn't alone anymore lightened the perspective the tiniest bit. Waiting here would do no good, so fighting every big brother instinct he had (which honestly, was getting erratic) he started running to the waiting Impala.

oOo

Cherry clenched her eyes shut as she coughed up river water on the ground. Cold, it was so, so cold. It penetrated her skin, crawling its way through muscle to attain the heart of her bones, and she couldn't suppress the chills making her body rattle.

As the coughing fit and spasms lessened, she tried to pry her eyes open, and found the task way more difficult to accomplish than it should have been. Cherry's eyelids fluttered as fast as hummingbird's wings, fighting to stay open despite the excess of clarity, the brightness almost blinding her as if she had been staring directly into the sun. Slowly but surely coming back to her senses, she could feel that the floor was smooth and fresh to the touch, maybe marble..?

Her pupils had finally decided to do their job and she allowed her gaze to lazily sweep over the place. From the walls to the bars separating her from what seemed to be a richly decorated ancient Greek styled dinner room, everything was made of pure, white grey veined marble. Cherry would have marveled at the interior décor a lot more if she wasn't in a cell, a magnificent cell though, with bas-reliefs incrusted and gold colored candle holders, but still a cell.

She found out that she could move both hands and feet freely. Let's keep the good work going. Painfully, slowly, but with an iron will, she managed to get herself up and look at the back of her prison.

Shit.

Cherry ran across the ridiculous large cage. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

There, in the corner of this absurdly beautiful prison, lay Sam Winchester. Now would it have been just a not-seemingly-dead Sam Winchester, it would have been good news, but in this case she wasn't even sure he was still breathing. He was curled up into himself, dried blood decorating the back of his head, his mistreated flannel shirt, and a portion of the ground around him.

"Sam!" she reached out for his shoulders to turn him over, but as her fingertips made contact Sam, against every physical law, curled-up even more, mumbling something unintelligible. Always look at the bright side of life: he's alive. "Sam can you hear me ?" she asked, but he remained motionless except for the twitching in his features. Fuck the bright side of life.

Cherry forced him to turn on his back ignoring the heavy flinch her touch earned. She could now hear his raspy but regular breathing, and even if you're not supposed to hear it, her inner turmoil quieted a bit at the sound.

She gently began to prod his ribs: everything going as best as it could in a fabulous Greek styled cell after a dive in a river, until the third rib gave in with a sickening crunch. Sam's eyes instantly flew open, breath hitching, wild eyes landing on Cherry, which of course didn't helped with the self-control. He had begun with breathing anew, but in small, frantic whips, and by the look on his face, his broken rib did nothing to make things easier. He propped himself on his elbows and quickly shuffled to the corner as if wanting to sink into it, protecting his face with one arm as the other was wrapped around his ribcage.

"Sam, I'm here to help," Cherry said, almost pleadingly, "Let me see your injuries, I can take away the pain a little if you let me." Sam did nothing but making a quasi-animalistic sound at the back of his throat, halfway between fear, pain, and defiance. Cherry was maybe not his tormenter but he had seen her eyes, those little swirls of yellow meant nothing good. "Sam." Tears were now welling in Cherry's eyes; this time no doubt, she was begging him.

"What a lovely reunion," a joyous voice cut in making Cherry's head snap towards the deity and… Dean?
Seeing Cherry's reaction the goddess laughed with as much cheer as a kid receiving his weight in candies "He really is something isn't he? He's just a perfect copy of the original." She placed her hand under Dean's -not Dean's- chin. "Except that I left as only memory all the time our dear Samuel let his poor brother down, and believe me, even I was surprised at the number of times that actually happened." Sam, who had been still this whole time begun frantically blurting apologies under his breath, making the thing shudder from what seemed like… pleasure? Cherry recoiled, hesitating between being wholly disgusted or utterly terrified.

The goddess opened her eyes again and they shown bright with such malice it seemed she was going to devour Cherry here and now. "But the real question I'm asking myself is how will I be using you, dear?" She eyed the concerned, which was enough for obliging Cherry to swallow back the sarcastic comment. "Obviously you're not feeling half as guilty as I thought you were, and it is not in my character to waste food. So we'll have to find something, shan't we?" and with that the god plunged her being into Cherry's head.