Chapter Twenty

Last time on 'I Wanna Know Why'…

Finally, already feeling the tug of sleep and seeing as his brother was asleep, Dean took his pills and slipped into bed.

That was exactly what Sam has been waiting for. He waited a while longer, making sure Dean was out cold, before getting out of bed, changing his clothes and quickly and quietly packing his things. He kept looking over his shoulder, making sure Dean was sleeping, making sure Dean stayed out of it. Dean didn't want to be a part of it. Fine. There was no need for him to be. It wasn't him the Demon was after anyway, Sam thought, slipping out the door. There was a car in the parking lot just begging to get stolen…

Sam sat on the bed in his new motel room, hesitating. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next. Instinctively, he turned, looking for his brother to tell him what to do. But Dean wasn't there. With any luck, Dean still had no idea that Sam was gone. Sam yawned, stretching over his bed, but not before making sure the only thing on the ceiling were water stains. He had two choices; going to Lynn's now, or catch a few hours of sleep first. It was his headache that eventually made up his mind, and he drifted in sleep.

He woke up with a start to the sound of his cell phone. After trying to convince his heart that inside the body was a perfectly good place for a heart to be, Sam reached for the offending phone. It was Dean. Sam hesitated. He knew Dean would be worried, hell, if he was the one to wake up and find his brother gone, he'd have a heart attack. But on the other side, Dean had been so adamant that they wouldn't return to Armain. Dean didn't want any part of it, he didn't want to hunt the Demon, not anymore. Sam didn't get that. After everything they'd been through, he didn't, couldn't understand why Dean didn't want to find the damn Demon and destroy it.

And how could he explain it to his brother? How could he possibly explain what it felt like to open your eyes and see the woman you love pinned up on the ceiling, with her blood dripping on you? How could Sam possibly explain what seeing it again felt like?

The call went to voicemail, and then Dean called him again. And again. Sam switched his phone off.

Well, there was no going back to sleep now, not with the guilt he was feeling. If he could only make Dean understand… But he couldn't. Dean wouldn't listen. Sam had to leave, there was just no other way.

Pushing himself off the bed, Sam bee-lined to the bathroom. After answering nature's call, he brushed his teeth and tried his best to control his long, unruly hair. He had left the car a few blocks down the road, and there was no way he was ever getting anywhere near it again. And that meant walking. Putting his coat on, Sam went out in search for breakfast. He got himself a cup of bad coffee from one of the machines, and an old, bland sandwich from another machine, and walked slowly back to the room.

He needed a plan. It wasn't like he could go up to Lynn and say, 'hi, I know I've been gone for a few days, but hey there's this demon out there, and it sort of wants to slice out your gut and hang you up from my ceiling. No, nothing personal, it just has a grudge against me and it kills everyone that gets in its way'. Yeah, he could just see how well that would go.

Well, first thing's first, he had to do this face to face. Mustering his courage, Sam started for Lynn's place.

Sam climbed the steps leading to Lynn's apartment. It's been a long walk from his motel to her apartment, he was just thankful that it wasn't raining. He still had a flight of stairs to climb when a foreboding feeling started twisting his gut. There was something wrong. He was too late. Sam's heart hammered, and he wished, and not for the first time, he had Dean by his side. He ran the rest of the way up, taking the steps three at a time.

Lynn's door was slightly open. Sam cursed.

The apartment was a mess. And though Lynn wasn't the tidiest person, and there was usually some clutter around, it was never like this. The place looked like there's been a bar brawl in there, with overturned furniture and broken glass and everything. Sam's heart pounded against his chest. God, I hope she was just robbed. Please, God, let it just be a robbery… Sam thought, hoped, as he fished his cell out of his coat pocket, switching it on, and dialed Lynn's number.

He jumped when he heard Lynn's phone ring somewhere in the apartment. Indiana Johns ringtone? Sam couldn't stop himself from making a face. This was not good. Not good at all. And the fact Lynn's phone was here wasn't good, either.

Sam forced himself to calm down, to think clearly. What was he supposed to do now? Damn, he wished Dean was here. What would Dean do? Tell me to calm down. Right. Sam took a deep breath, still looking around, careful not to touch anything. Okay, I'm calm. Now what? Sam wished he'd brought a weapon with him as he slowly started walking around the apartment. Empty. No ozone traces, and even better, no sulfur. Now, if he could only track EMF with his spidy sense…

Okay. He has to treat this as a case. Just a case, like any other. He can do that, right? I hope so, Sam thought as he gave the room another once over, but he couldn't find anything. Not without the right equipment. I knew I should have taken Dean's EMF meter… Well, at least no one's hanging from the ceiling, either…

Frustrated, Sam leaned against the door to Lynn's bedroom. He was getting a headache. Maybe it was best if he got out of the apartment, got some fresh air. He started towards the door, but the pulsing pain behind his eyes only got stronger. Familiarly strong. Oh, shit!

It was dark. It smelled pretty bad, too, but the darkness bothered him more. There were windows, high up near the ceiling, but they were dirty and grimy, and even if there was light outside, Sam doubted it could go through what seemed like years of neglect.

It was a little hard to breathe, too. Like this place had been closed for so long that the air was just now finding its way back in, along with him.

There were large crates and boxes everywhere; crates upon crates, boxes upon boxes, making paths, creating a maze. Every instinct in him screamed at him to get out. It's funny how much those screams sounded like Dean. Sam stopped for a minute, just to make sure it wasn't really Dean doing the screaming. He breathed in relief when no actual screaming was heard, and nearly choked on the dust.

His heart hammered, the flashlight in his hand flickering. "Lynn?" he called out.

"Sam!" and then there was a scream, cut short. The dim light from the old lamps flickered and hummed, and then died down. And then it was dark. Only it felt like the darkness had a life of its own. Sam swallowed hard. He forced himself to move on, to keep going. Lynn was in danger, she was hurt, he had to get to her.

And then he felt it. A drop. He froze. Another drop. He looked up.

"Too late," she whispered, "he's already dead."

The flames started everywhere all at once; from the ceiling, consuming Lynn, from behind, preventing his retreat, from up ahead, leaving him no place to go. He was trapped.

But there was something there. A figure. Sam covered his face with his hand, trying to protect it from the intense heat. He swallowed hard again.

"Dean?" and then the figure turned, and his brother smirked at him. "Oh, God, Dean, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," Sam started, and then his words died on his lips. His brother's eyes were yellow.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Sammy."

"No!" Sam cried, hissing in pain, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block away the pain. He fought just to keep standing on his feet. He could taste the bile rising up in the back of his throat. "No! Dean!" he hissed in pain again, and then the world went white again.

It was dark again, and smelled just as rancid as before. The darkness was stifling. Light barely penetrated the high, dirty, grimy windows. Large crates and boxes were everywhere; crates upon crates, boxes upon boxes, making paths, creating a maze. Sam recognized this place. He had seen it before. But wait, wasn't that in a vision? He thought, cursing as the flashlight he was holding begun to flicker. Oh, great. His heart was pounding in his chest as he made his way through the crate maze.

He gasped, his eyes widening, and instinctively found shelter behind one of the crates, peering at the gruesome site before him, hoping not to be seen. Not yet.

The Demon was there. He could tell it was the demon even without seeing the yellow eyes. There was just something about the man that made it clear he was merely a host. And the fact Lynn was pinned to the wall was kind of a giveaway, too.

"Please," Lynn begged, tears streaming from her eyes. "I don't understand, why are you doing this?" she cried.

"You got in the way." The Demon smirked at her, "Nothing personal, dear. I guess you picked the wrong brother to hit on."

"Please, let me go! I won't see him ever again, I promise!"

"I know you won't." the Demon smirked, taking a step back. And then Lynn screamed at the top of her lungs as crimson rivulets started streaming from her stomach. An invisible force drove her up against the ceiling, and that's when she saw him. That's when her eyes widened.

"Sam! Sam, help me! Sam, please!" she cried, begged. And then the Demon turned to face him, amused.

"Go ahead, psychic boy. Help her. Save her. That'd be a neat trick." It smirked smugly. "You might want to cover your head, I hear humans don't really appreciate smoke." And then the ceiling erupted in flame. Lynn screamed. And then there was only the roar of the fire.

"No!" Sam cried, "No! Lynn!" he pressed the heels of his hands to his temples, trying to block out the blinding headache, but it wasn't working. He was shaking rather violently, and couldn't help being sick. His heart raced, he was sweating, and that damn headache wouldn't go away.

Lynn was going to die. Tonight. He was sure of it. He had to get to her now, before it was too late. There was no way Sam was going to let another woman burn because of him, no way he was going to let another family go through that hell because of him.

But how the hell was he going to find her? Think, Sam, think! He told himself, forcing himself to breathe deeply and concentrate. He wished his visions were as accurate as they had once been. He wished they were as far from accurate as possible and that he was just overreacting. He wished Dean was there to tell him what to do. But that wasn't the case. Sam had take care of it, and he had to do it on his own.

Okay, think, Sam! Why did you just get two visions? He thought, because the headache is so much fun? He thought bitterly. He forced himself to take a deep breath and clear his mind. Well, for whatever reason, the visions have always been there to help me. Screwed up or not, they still always showed me what I needed to know. Sam drew a shaky breath. Okay, so, two visions, probably means that I should hurry, Sam thought. And since the common denominators seemed to be Lynn, the Demon and that warehouse, Sam figured he should look up the warehouse.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's a trap…" he muttered angrily at the little voice in his head that tried to warn him. A little voice that sounded just like a certain big brother…

Finding the location of the warehouse wasn't nearly as difficult as getting to it without a car. So Sam 'borrowed' one.

The restlessness in his gut grew the closer he got there. It was a warehouse complex, actually, in the old factory area not too far from town. The warehouses were deserted on the most part, the factory having closed more than twenty years earlier. Sam kept glancing at the small arsenal of weapons he had in the passenger seat, including a sawed-off shotgun, a couple of handguns, holy water, silver bullets, consecrated rounds, and his dad's journal. He had the nagging suspicion that Dean would skin him alive for that one.

A few warehouses looked like they could be the one from Sam's vision, but he was rather reluctant to check them all. He reached in his pocket and fingered his cell phone. Dean had called three more times, but none of them in the past four hours. Sam didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. He went with preoccupied instead.

Okay, Sam, time to make a decision here, Sam told himself, and chose one of the warehouses. Two hours later, and after carefully combing every inch of that place, Sam figured he had the wrong warehouse. He was rather grateful for that, though, for the smells in that place made him gag.

It was dusk now, and Sam pulled out his flashlight as he went into yet another warehouse. It took him about fifteen minutes before he recognized it. Before the flashlight began to flicker. Sam cocked his shotgun, looking around him warily for any sign of the Demon. He knew he would be of no match to it without the Colt, his only hope was to get Lynn out of there as quickly as possible.

And that's when he saw her, against the wall, her head drooped, her eyes closed. Sam's heart doubled its pace, his mouth went dry and he had to force his body to stop shaking. Okay, so he was scared. Would be stupid not to be, especially after what happened last time. And what the hell was he doing here on his own? For the slightest of moments, Sam seriously considered going back, getting out of this place as soon as possible, before it was too late, before the Demon finds out that he's here.

And how come the Demon's here, anyway? It's not the usual MO. There were no freak lightning storms, no cattle mutilations, no six months old babies involved, what would the Demon do in a warehouse for crying out loud? Unless it was here for Sam. Sam swallowed, heart hammering. He had to go back. Now.

"Sam?" damn it! "Sam, is that you?" Lynn's voice was frail, she struggled to keep her head up, to keep her eyes open. Damn it, I can just leave her here to die! Sam thought, finding some solace in the shotgun in his hand as he took in his surroundings, trying to figure out the best way to escape if need be. "Sam, I'm so glad you're here," Lynn breathed, "I was beginning to think you weren't going to come for me." She cried weakly. And then raised her head, a smirk on her lips. "I tell you, waiting here can totally bore a person to death, you know?" she pushed herself away from the wall, stretching her aching muscles.

"I really am glad you decided to come, Sammy." she smirked as she made her way toward him. "I mean, what is a girl to do?" she was right in front of him now, and all Sam could do was gawk at her. "Vision after vision after vision… You really make a girl work hard, you know?" she said in a way that painfully reminded Sam of Meg.

"You're a demon!" Sam gasped.

"Better than that, Sammy." Lynn touched his arm playfully. "I'm human." She looked up at him, "I'm just like you." Sam shook his head, but Lynn went on, "Or rather, I used to be like you. But I didn't fight it. I accepted it, accepted who I am. And Father rewarded me for it." She said, her eyes locking Sam's with her gaze. Sam shook his head.

"No!" he said hauntingly, pushing her away.

"Aww, Sammy, don't be like that." Lynn grinned. "You have any idea how powerful you could be?"

"You did this? The visions? It was you?" Sam demanded, feeling sick to his stomach. Lynn shrugged, though her smile widened.

"What can I say? I am talented." She boasted.

"You're sick!" Sam snapped, turning away towards the exit, but Lynn was quick to stand in his way.

"C'mon, Sam, all this work and you're leaving already? A girl can really get upset about that. It's not a very nice thing to do."

"Bite me!" Sam snapped, walking faster, gritting his teeth as Lynn started to laugh.

"May I?" she asked, and he shot a deadly glare her way. "Oh, come on, Sam. Don't be so heavy, you should really lighten up a little." Sam stopped abruptly, glaring at her, and then pointed the shotgun at her chest.

"If you're really human, consecrated rounds won't have a problem killing you." he said gruffly. Lynn cocked a brow.

"No," she said, "But that won't be very nice of you." she said, crossing her arms. "And here I was, ready to play nice."

"Get the hell away from me!" Sam threatened.

"Or what?" Lynn asked. Sam cocked his head to accentuate the gun in his hand. "What, you'll kill me?" she shrugged. "You hear that, Father? Sammy's going to kill me." Sam swallowed, risking a glance over his shoulder.

"Son of a…"

TBC

A/N: Yeah, sorry about the no Dean in this chapter. Trust me, it wasn't an easy thing to do, being a Deangirl and all, but this is a Sammy story… Yeah, yeah, okay… (goes to stand in the corner and write Dean back). Oh, you're angry about the cliff hanger thing? Oh. Well, I wouldn't have to do something this cruel if you'd review, now would I?