Author's Note: Again, thank you for the wonderful reviews! They really make my day! And I would like to thank everyone who is just reading this. It makes me feel good to know that you are reading this!

To warn you, I end with another cliffie...I love to do them, what can I say?

As always, a big huge thanks to Bayre, my awesome beta!

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Even though it was a humid August night, Dean felt the air cool considerably. He knew who was behind him before he even turned around—he knew the voice. Making sure the grip on his sawed-off shotgun was tight, he whirled around and found his guess was correct.

"You don't look surprised to see me." Maggie smiled at him.

"Well, sweetheart, I'd be lying if I said I was." Dean returned the smile, though his was cocky.

Maggie looked at the gun pointed at her chest. "You wouldn't shoot an innocent woman, now would you?"

"You may be many things, but innocent ain't one of them." Dean raised the gun a little higher. He kept his aim steady, wary of any sudden move she may make. Sam may be right, she may not have anything to do with the deaths, but Dean sure as hell wasn't about to doubt that now. And if he was wrong, they could just chalk this off to a bad day and go their separate ways. But the fact she was standing in a cemetery in the middle of the night, kind of made Dean feel like he was right on this one.

"So, Dean…what brings you out here on a night like this?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Yes, I guess you could." Maggie nodded. "I like it out here—it's quiet."

"You sure you don't have another reason for being out here?"

"Like what?"

Dean nodded towards the tomb. "Maybe Marie can clear that up for us."

Maggie smiled chillingly. "So, you did figure it out. Kudos to you."

Dean gave a casual shrug. "It fits. Carlie Smith, the first victim was found out here, right beside this tomb actually. And though you told me she went out by herself, I'm pretty sure if I get my hands on the security tape, I'll find you were out here with her."

Maggie looked mildly surprised and Dean smiled. "You didn't know they put cameras out here, did you? I didn't either, not until a couple hours ago at least. Apparently there's a lot of vandalism so they put them up around the perimeter. And I'm guessing on this one, but the person that showed up at Brad's door before he took the swan dive—I'm betting it's you. You really were busy that night, weren't you?"

"None of that proves anything."

"Maybe not, but I don't think the police would think twice about considering you a suspect if they got their hands on that little bit of information. And if they looked hard enough, they could peg you for the other two murders, as well."

It was Maggie's turn to be smug. "You wouldn't go to the police, Dean. As I seem to recall, you and the police aren't exactly on the best of terms right now."

Dean smirked. "So, how long have you been possessing Maggie?"

"A little over a week now." Maggie took a step towards Dean. "You think I don't remember you, hunter?"

"I'm a pretty memorable guy."

"Yes, you are…I'll give you that. So memorable in fact, a girl came to see me tonight. Maybe you remember her—Sophie." Maggie winced. "Oh, that's right, you don't remember her. At least, that's what she rambled on about. Let me guess? Just another name on your list, Dean?"

"What does she have to do with this?"

"Not much, really. Except she made a wish…a wish to see you hurt, like you hurt her."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you're doing? Granting wishes?"

"You should know. I granted yours a little over a year ago."

Dean froze. What the hell was going on here? Well, he knew what was going on—she was spelling out everything for him, which was weird in itself. But the wish, that was supposed to have never happened. It wasn't supposed to be true, it couldn't be. "That wasn't real."

"It wasn't?" Maggie walked around him as he followed her with his eyes. "You made a wish, Dean, a wish to see Sammy again. And if I'm not mistaken, you did see him again. The next day, as a matter of fact." She stopped behind him to whisper in his ear. "Now, how are you going to stand there and tell me your wish didn't come true? I gave you exactly what you asked for."

Dean shook his head. "No, that was a coincidence. A pure and simple coincidence."

Maggie tossed her head back as she laughed. "Oh, come on Dean. You don't really believe that do you? I gave you everything you wanted, everything you desired. And the only thing you can do is stand there and tell me I didn't." Her expression became pained. "That really hurts my feelings, Dean."

"I'm sure you'll get over it."

"Yes, I'm sure I will." Maggie took a step away from him. "Maybe Sam could help me."

Dean felt as if someone punched him in the gut. Sam—she just said Sam. What did Sam have to do with this? "You stay away from Sam," he growled.

Maggie tilted her head to the side. "I'm afraid it's a little late for that, Dean." She turned and began to walk away from him.

Dean rushed ahead of her, blocking her exit. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, did I say something?" Maggie asked, feigning innocence.

Dean took a step back and aimed his gun at her chest. "You leave my brother out of this, bitch."

Maggie looked at the gun and rolled her eyes. "You know, I really am tired of having that thing aimed at me." With a wave of her hand, she ripped the gun away from him and sent it flying a few yards away. Dean quickly looked where the gun lay, then turned his eyes back to Maggie. "Who do you think Sam ran to tonight after your little fight, Dean?"

"How do you know we had a fight?"

"Sam came over and told me. I was only too happy to help him get over it."

"What did you do with him?" Dean asked, his voice lethal.

"I didn't do a thing except give him what he wanted."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

Maggie smiled coyly. "What do you think? He was hurt, Dean…it was pathetic, really. He was like a lost little puppy."

Dean felt anger wash over him. Who did this bitch think she was flinging Sam's pain back in his face? Dean knew he was hurt, he was the cause of that hurt. But it didn't give her the right to do this, to take advantage of his kid brother. He wasn't about to stand there and allow it, not for one minute. "Keep away from him."

Maggie shook her head. "I don't think so, Dean. You see, I found a way to hurt you, to make you pay for what you did to Sophie and so many other countless women—use Sam against you. I've learned he's your whole reason for living. I take that away, your reason's gone."

A cold grip seized Dean's heart. Yes, she knew how to hurt him, knew how to make him suffer. Anyone who spent eight seconds with Dean Winchester knew how to hurt him—go after his kid brother. It was a big fear of Dean's, that he was so obvious when it came to Sam. That anyone who wanted to take a shot at him could do that by going after Sam. Dean tried to look past that and put up a tough façade, but the truth was Sam was his weakness.

Dean snapped out of his momentary paralysis and reached for his flask of holy water. He quickly twisted the top off and flung its contents at Maggie. His brows furrowed when she only wiped it off of her with an annoyed look on her face.

"Did you really think that was going to work on me, Dean? I'm a spirit, not a demon. If anything, you've only managed to piss me off further."

"Do you really think—" Dean didn't get to finish as he found himself flying through the air, colliding with a nearby tomb. The force of the impact knocked the wind from his body and he could feel warm blood trickling down his forehead. He shook his head, trying to clear the wooziness as Maggie appeared in front of him. Dean tried to pull himself up from the dew-soaked ground, but she beat him to the punch as her hand closed around his throat, lifting him against the tomb, his feet dangling off the ground.

"Looks like someone had her Wheaties this morning," Dean said, his voice strained.

Maggie smiled as she planted a kiss on his lips. "Amazing how you can still joke when you're in a losing position, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes as he cringed. "So, are you gonna kill me already or are we just gonna make small talk for the rest of the night?"

Maggie shook her head, a cold glint in her eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, Dean. I wouldn't dream of it—not now, at least. I have something I need for you to do for me first."

"What makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

Maggie chuckled. "I'm afraid you won't have a choice, hunter. I told you I was going to make you hurt and I intend on keeping my word." She tightened her grip on his throat and threw him once again. This time when Dean hit another one of the tombs, he felt blackness creeping in as his head struck the hard surface once again. He tried his best to keep his eyes open, to keep the world in focus, but it was a losing battle. Through blurry vision, he saw Maggie's feet stop within inches of his face. She knelt down and pressed her hand to his cheek. "I think it's time I go check on that brother of yours now, Dean. You know where to find us…"

Dean's world finally became nothing but darkness.

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Sam was in a blissful state.

It was the only way he could explain the last few hours. Being with Maggie had done wonders for his psyche, and for the first time since he and Dean got to New Orleans, he felt at ease. It was a feeling he liked, one he wished would never leave. But leave it did as soon as it came when, opening his eyes, he noticed the bed beside him was empty.

"Maggie?" he called softly. Even though it was still the middle of the night, he could see the room clearly as moonlight filtered in through the sheer curtains that adorned the only window in the room. But everywhere he looked, he failed to see Maggie. Thinking she may be in the kitchen or living room, Sam quickly slipped out of bed. He grabbed his blue jeans from the top of the trunk in front of the bed and threw them on. Spotting his T-shirt on the floor, he pulled it over his head as he opened the door to the bedroom.

"Maggie?" he called again as he slowly entered the kitchen, but there was no sign of her. A momentary feeling of panic welled up in his chest as he thought to where she could possibly be, especially since there were so many unexplained deaths as of yet, which she had ties to. Could the deaths be murders and was the murderer after Maggie now? Had the killer gotten a hold of her? If she left on her own accord, he was more than sure she would have left a note saying she had to leave, but where she would go in the middle of the night, he had no idea. He walked into the living room, searching for any note, but he found nothing.

Sam's panic was about to get the better of him when he heard the lock on the door being turned. Maggie looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"Sam, what are you doing up? Are you leaving?"

"No, I was about to go out and look for you. I worried when I woke up and saw you weren't here."

Maggie smiled, but avoided his eyes. "I just needed to get out and go for a walk."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…I just have a lot of thoughts running around in my head and needed some time to sort them out." She walked behind Sam to set down her keys and purse.

Sam turned around to follow her with his eyes. "Was it us? Do you regret—"

Maggie cut him off as she took his hand in hers. "Not at all, Sam. Tonight meant a lot to me. You don't regret it, do you?"

Sam shook his head and smiled softly. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. When they broke apart, he looked down at her and frowned in puzzlement.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why are you wet? Is it raining outside?"

Maggie looked down at her shirt which was covered in several big wet spots. "Oh, this?" She laughed nervously. "I spilled some water on me."

Sam studied her for a moment and thought he saw a flicker of panic in her eyes. "Maggie, what is it? Where were you?"

Maggie sighed as she walked back towards her bedroom. "I told you, Sam. I went out for a walk."

Sam followed her into the room where she was pulling another shirt out of the closet. "Then why do you keep avoiding my eyes? Why are you nervous?"

Maggie pulled off her wet shirt and slipped a dry one on. Sam watched as her shoulders slumped and she let out a long, deep sigh. "You know, you're beginning to become as annoying as your brother."

Sam arched a brow. "Dean? What does he have to do with this?"

Maggie turned around, a smile creeping up on her face. "Do you want to know where I really was, Sam?" She took a step towards him. "I was paying your brother a friendly little visit. We had a nice little chat—about you and other things."

"What are you talking about?" Sam felt as if someone had poured ice cold water over his body. Something wasn't right, something was off and he didn't like it. All of his senses were screaming at him that this was bad, something had happened while Maggie was out. Something that had to do with Dean and that scared him more than he was willing to allow himself to admit. All at once the answer hit him like a ton of bricks—Dean was right. The entire time, Dean had been right about Maggie; something was up with her. And here it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Dean was right," he said softly. "You were responsible for everything."

Maggie tilted her head. "I had a little help."

Sam frowned in confusion and Maggie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Haven't you heard of the legend around here, Sam? Dean figured it out…I thought you were the brains of your cute little duo."

"Marie Laveau."

"Maybe you are the brains, after all. You really should start paying more attention to him, Sam. He only has your best interest at heart."

"So, what was this between you and me? Just some kind of fluke?"

Maggie shook her head. "Not at all—I really did like you, Sam. At least Maggie did—I could feel her attraction to you and I played on it, enjoyed it." She smiled at his crestfallen expression. "Don't look so sad, Sam…you were just a means to an end, a pawn in the game. It never had anything to do with you. What can I say, Sam? A girl has needs…and you just happened to be there to fill them."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he ground out.

"Oh, temper, temper." Maggie began to circle him slowly, but his eyes never left her. "It was always about Dean. I needed to get to your brother and you were the best way to do that. I create tension between the two of you, I get you alone. I get you alone, use you, I hurt him more than any other thing I could cook up can. You know, Sam, your brother is so damn predictable when it comes to you."

It was at those words Sam felt like the biggest ass in the world. What the hell was he thinking not trusting his brother, not listening to him when he was telling the truth? Sam hated himself right then because he never should have lost that trust in Dean, never should have doubted him for even a second. Then another thought occurred to Sam—never for a second would he have doubted Dean on a normal day. That meant something had to have happened in order for him to lose that trust in Dean, something supernatural.

"You did something to me." It wasn't a question.

"I had to use a little persuasion on you. You never would have turned your back on Dean, otherwise. The way you two stick together, it's kind of cute." Maggie shrugged. "I used my influence on you, Sam, and you went right for it. The way you went up to bat for me, blamed Dean for being the cause off all of your problems because of that wish he made."

"The wish? Was it true?"

Maggie shook her head. "I heard the wish that night, but I had nothing to do with him getting back to you. There were more evil players involved with your family. Rule number one among the spirit and demon world: Never interfere with higher-beings work."

"So you used the wish against him, made him think it was real."

"Made you think it was real, too. You know, I expected more of a challenge from you two, especially after all the talk I've heard about you—you made it a little too easy for me."

"Sorry to disappoint," Sam said with a half smile.

"Oh, you weren't a disappointment, Sam. You've played your part very well. You certainly threw Dean off his game."

"What did you do to him?" Sam asked, feeling the panic starting to grow inside him.

"You should have seen him in that cemetery, Sam. So alone…so conflicted." Maggie stepped in front of Sam and put her arms around his neck. "But, don't worry—I took good care of him."

Sam tore her arms away from him. "What did you do?"

"Nothing much…but he won't be moving around any time soon." Maggie's smile became chilling.

Sam's eyes widened at what those words implied, which were any number of things—he could be dead, he could be unconscious, he could be seriously injured. All of those possibilities scared the shit out of Sam and he wanted nothing more than to get away and get to Dean, to make sure he was okay. He had to get to Dean and let him know what an ass he'd been, come up with a million ways he'd make it up to him.

"I can't let you leave, Sam." Maggie stated.

"I don't see where you can really stop me."

Maggie quirked a brow. "Is that a challenge?"

"Take it whatever the hell way you want. I'm getting to my brother." Sam started to walk towards the door, but it slammed shut before he could there. He grabbed the handle and twisted it frantically, but it wouldn't budge.

"I thought I couldn't stop you, Sam."

"You shut the door, I'm impressed," he said sarcastically. "Got any other tricks up your sleeve?" He knew he was egging her on and probably asking for trouble, but he didn't care. He had to get to Dean and if that meant pissing off a voodoo queen for that to happen, then so be it.

"You want to see more tricks?" she asked. "I can do that." She thrust out her hand and Sam felt himself crashing through the door into a heap in the living room. "How was that for a trick?"

Sam sluggishly pulled himself up from the ground. "Is that all you got?"

"You know, you're more like your brother than you realize. He also didn't know when to stop talking." With another wave of her hand, Sam was lifted from the ground and went crashing into the shelves that held Maggie's collectibles. As he hit the ground, he felt the shelves and small porcelain figures raining down on him in pieces. He winced as several large chunks cut through his flesh.

All of a sudden he felt a pressure on his heart, almost as if someone was squeezing it with their hands. He grunted in pain, but the pressure didn't let up and he felt himself start to grow faint as black spots danced in front of his eyes.

"Oh, no, Sammy…we can't have you go to sleep." Maggie was standing over him. "I still need you."

Sam finally felt the pressure release and he sucked in a lungful of air as he tried to reorient himself. Suddenly he felt hands grip his arms and lead him to a chair where he was pushed down roughly. His hands were quickly tied down on either side of the chair and he pulled against them to see if he could get some slack in his bonds, but they remained strong. "What are you doing?" he demanded weakly.

Maggie leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry, Sammy. Big brother will be here any time now."