Disclaimers - Usual.

A/N - Sorry this was a late posting. Holidays were a little too good and I got a little too lazy. But I should be back on track now.

Chapter 11

They arrived at Kaitlyn's studio around mid-day. It was in the historic side of town, complete with streetlights that looked like lanterns, brick sidewalks, and a cobblestone main street. Both sides of the street were lined with renovated historic buildings and storefronts. It was like a Thomas Kinkaid painting. Much to Kaitlyn's amusement, Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Ah… Home sweet home," Kaitlyn said. The bell above the gallery door gave a familiar tinkling welcome as Kaitlyn walked in.

"Kait!" came a cheery female voice from the back of the studio. A short woman, dressed in a free-flowing shirt and skirt, and wearing dangling earrings that tinkled as she moved, closed the distance to Kaitlyn quickly and gave her a hug. "And who, may I ask…?"

"Jean, this is Sam and Dean. They're friends of mine. They'll be staying in town for a couple of days. They're helping me out with a … project."

"Oh!" said the woman in a suggestive tone as she openly ogled them. "You've started working with models." She said with a lusty chuckle.

Sam fidgeted under the woman's studying gaze. He wondered if he was still wearing clothes or if she'd already started painting him mentally without them.

Dean, on the other hand, was glad for his brother's height, for once, as he tried to hide from this woman, using his brother's superior size to block him from view. Elderly, lusty women were a type of creature Dean had never gotten comfortable with and avoided when at all possible.

Kaitlyn, who was surprised that the boys "feared" anything, couldn't help but laugh, try as she might to hold it in. "No, Jean. Not that kind of work. They're helping me on a personal project."

"Oh. Shame," Jean said, turning away from the men and back to Kaitlyn. "Well, everything ran smoothly. A couple of paintings sold. A new artist, one from the local college, asked if he could show his work here. I wrote down his number…"

"Fine. Listen, I'm still in the middle of something. Could you stay on for the next couple of days?"

Jean glanced back at the boys and smiled a mischievous smile. "Sure. I can stay around."

Kaitlyn chuckled and shook her head. "Thanks a lot, Jean. Come on, guys."

Dean and Sam followed Kaitlyn down a hall at the back of the store. There were two smaller rooms on either side of the hall. One had "Studio" painted in delicate calligraphy, while on the other was painted the word "Private." As Dean walked by, he noticed that the "Private" door was slightly ajar and he glanced in. He was brought up short by the first picture that he saw. It was a wendigo. It was not a typical artist's rendering of the type that, once you know what one actually looks like, you know the artist has never seen one. No, this picture was accurate in every detail. Dean couldn't help but be drawn to the little room. He looked around at the pictures making up this private collection. All were created using various mediums that seemed perfectly appropriate to each scene and enhanced the image created rather than distracted from it. He recognized the wendigo while still standing in the hallway. He also noticed other villains that he and Sam had faced-off against in the past year: the shtriga, Bloody Mary, the Hookman, that fugly scarecrow, the creepy little girl with the straight-edge, and even a vampire, which seemed oddly mundane next to the other creatures. He knew Kaitlyn had been connecting with Sam at what she called "highly emotional" moments, but to see the evidence in front of him made him shiver. He knew she couldn't see everything they did at every moment, but he couldn't shake the feeling that their privacy had somehow been violated, though logically he knew it wasn't through any fault of Kaitlyn's or a desire on her part to intrude. He also felt kind of bad for her at having to see the things that most people assume are make-believe. It must have screwed with her mind at first, until she figured out that she was seeing real creatures from someone else's point of view – which, really, seeing images from someone else's mind was just as crazy as thinking the creatures haunting your dreams might be real.

Dean heard a noise behind him and saw the same look of disbelief and shock pass over Sam's face as he looked around. Kaitlyn was watching them both, to see their reactions. As Sam started to make his way around the room, studying each individual picture more closely, Dean noticed that Kaitlyn tried to subtly hide a couple of paintings already half hidden in one corner by shifting an easel and standing in the way. If he hadn't suddenly become nervous about what she might be trying to hide, he would have found her attempt amusing. She was not tall or large, by any means, so to try to block the men's field of vision was a futile effort. Dean looked past her and then sidled up next to her to add to her barricade. Two of the three pictures she was trying to keep from view were among Sam's most painful life experiences: Jessica's death and the time Sam found Dean when he had been electrocuted. He couldn't quite see the third picture. They were difficult for Dean to look at, so he did what came naturally and tried to protect his brother from further pain and reminders, if he could.

When Sam got to where they were standing, he had almost completed the circuit of the room. Kaitlyn tried to distract him. "Why don't we go upstairs and put the bags down? I'll make some food. Well, no, I probably don't have any, but I can order something and we can talk about all of this…" she waved her arm, sweeping the room, "over a bite to eat."

"Yeah, sounds good." Dean must have sounded a little too eager, because Sam's eyes narrowed. He, for once, did not put up a fight and just nodded his head. Dean sighed in relief, and Sam glanced at him. He would have to ask later what that was all about.

As the three of them started for the door, Dean glanced over his shoulder at the narrowly escaped chick-flick moment and stopped cold. His body turned of its own accord, drawn to the third picture Kaitlyn had been trying to hide. It was a picture, from Sam's point of view, of the night at the cabin, forever ago. Demon-possessed John was smiling cruelly as Dean was being bled, the Demon using invisible blades that cut deep into his body and allowed his blood to flow freely. Dean winced and subconsciously put his hand to his chest in remembered pain, not all of it physical.

Sam noticed Dean drift away and turned to see what he was looking at.

"Sam." Kaitlyn whispered his name in warning, but it was too late. He saw what Dean was looking at and then his eyes traveled to the other two pictures. Sorrow and pain rolled off the men in waves, colliding with Kaitlyn with a force that made it necessary for her to hold onto the doorway for support. As Kaitlyn's eyes teared empathically, Dean turned and walked out of the room, his face a stoic mask, but his emotions telegraphing to Kaitlyn with physical force. She looked back at Sam, who had bowed his head as tears escaped down his face.

"I'm sorry, Sam. Truly." Kaitlyn walked up to him and rested her hand on his arm, trying to provide any comfort she could give. She knew instinctively that Dean would not accept such comfort, not from her, so she let him stand in the hall alone, and gave him space and a few minutes.

After a minute, Sam gathered himself together and nodded at Kaitlyn, indicating he was ready to leave. They stepped out in the hallway to see Dean leaning against the wall. His head was down also, and sorrow still rolled off him. When he became aware of them, he looked up and pushed off the wall. He was ready to move on, or at least be distracted, and rebury what had been accidentally laid bare.

They headed up the stairs to Kaitlyn's second floor apartment in silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts. As she walked into the apartment, she suddenly gave a weird sort of wiggle. She looked back at the boys and smiled sheepishly, "I have my phone on vibrate. I've never gotten used to it when it goes off. It… startles me." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered it. "Y'ello." She said. "Oh, hey Dan… Uh-huh… Yeah, I know… I know, crazy, I guess…" Kaitlyn gave a slight laugh for Dan's sake, and glanced up at the brothers. "So, where exactly is he?... Oh, I know, I'm just curious now. I'd like to see him… Uh-huh… Great, thanks. And thanks for doing this for me… Okay, you too. Bye." She hung up the phone. "Well, that was Dan. He confirmed what Ash said - that Thomas tried to commit suicide and is in a coma or vegetative state. He gave me the hospital and room number. It's just a town over, not too far…"

Dean was once again grateful for the distraction of the hunt. "Good, let's go," he suggested.

"Food first. Then we go," Sam suggested.

After a brief pause they both said, "Pick it up on the way." The two hunters, both grinning, and their temporary charge headed out the door hoping to put an end to Thomas Wayne's secret reign of terror.

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They arrived at the healthcare facility, nestled among rolling hills with just enough trees to offer privacy, but not enough to be considered a forest.

"I think he knows we're coming." Kaitlyn had been growing increasingly wary of the sudden lull in Thomas' attentions.

"Yeah, well, that'd be a first." Dean said, his focus narrowing as he tried to figure out what weapons they could sneak in, and what might work against Thomas. Dean was not going to carry a gun into the facility. Not only would someone likely notice, but the last couple of times he tangled with Sam's playmates, his guns kept getting turned back on him. See, I can learn from my mistakes. He settled on going unarmed, save for holy water, his dad's journal (which had its own arsenal of un-carnal weapons) and the knife he always carried.

Sam was relieved to see Dean was not taking any weapons, except the knife he knew Dean always carried. He really didn't know what they hoped to accomplish or how they were going to defeat Thomas.

They walked through the stately doors of the main building and checked in under assumed identities, of course. They asked where Thomas Wayne's room was, saying they were family from out of state, here to pay their respects in case the worst should happen. As they headed away from the sign-in desk, Kaitlyn tapped Sam's arm.

"Sam, I want to show you something." She waited until he gave her his full attention. "I'm going to show you how I found you… at the bar."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"I think he means, 'Why now?'" Sam said, with a slight scowl in Dean's direction.

Dean nodded his agreement. "Can't it wait?"

Memories of things to come rushed into Kaitlyn's mind and a range of emotions flashed through her eyes, but she blinked and it was gone – too quick for the hunters to register what she was thinking about. "This is the perfect opportunity to learn and practice it. It's easier to find your way to a psychic… And it's a skill you may need later."… when I'm not around.

Sam nodded his consent and readiness for the connection. He felt the now familiar sensation of pressure and then the rush of disconnected memory. Like using sound to visualize your surroundings with radar or echolocation, he used feeling to "see" where people were located in the space around him. Kaitlyn maintained both her psychic and physical connection, but eventually gave the lead over to Sam, trusting him to be able to find the way. Thomas, being a psychic, had a non-radiant energy about him – aura, for lack of a better word. It reminded Sam of the moon and stars which shine to varying degrees, but don't give warmth the way the sun does. Sam noticed Thomas' shine beyond the walls and doors that would have impeded his physical sense of sight. There were a few other things he noticed, too. He had a very bright shine, while Kaitlyn's was dimmer than both his and Thomas'. Dean didn't shine, not in the same way. Rather, Dean had a glow that emanated from deep within. It felt soft and warm and Sam was pretty sure would have been a fiery, golden light had he been able to "see" it. What struck him even more about Dean's glow was that he really didn't see it in anyone else he looked at. The people around them had another type of energy or aura, one that spoke of vibrancy and life, though to varying degrees. It snapped and popped like static electricity with charges being built by people interacting with each other and giving and taking energy from each other in the process.

Dean watched Sam look around with an expression of boyish wonder. Sam looked at him, and just stared for a minute, making him shift uncomfortably under his brother's gaze. He wanted to ask what Sam was seeing, but thought better of it, not wanting to disrupt his brother's concentration. I hope that's not x-ray vision you got there, Sammy-boy. If it is, we're going to have to talk, Dean joked with himself, surprised at his own restraint in not speaking. But Sam seemed to be leading them, now, instead of Kaitlyn, and he didn't want to get them lost.

Sam headed to Thomas' room. Before they stepped through the door, he felt the connection break between himself and Kaitlyn. He gave a slight shake of his head as the "second-sight" lifted and he was left with his normal vision. As Sam was about to enter Thomas' room, he heard Kaitlyn say, "Dean, one second, please."

He and Dean exchanged a questioning glance, then nodded simultaneously their consent. Sam entered the room, while Dean waited outside.

"Um… I just feel the need to say… ya know… in case I don't get the chance later…" Dean started to interrupt, but Kaitlyn held up her hand and continued, "There's a verse in the Bible that says, 'Greater love has no one than this; that he lay down his life for his friend.' Dean," Kaitlyn locked eyes with him to be sure he was listening before she continued, "sometimes, 'laying down your life' means living… and accomplishing what the other person couldn't. You're the hope of your father and the strength of your brother. Whatever that guilt is that you're carrying, and the grief… Don't let yourself be strangled by it. Your brother needs you alive – and living."

Before Dean could respond, Kaitlyn walked into Thomas' room. She had a bad feeling as soon as she entered. She recognized the room, and glanced in Sam's direction. He gave her a sympathetic smile. He had recognized the room from his vision, too. "He knows we're here," she nodded in the direction of Thomas, "and he's happy."

It was at this moment that Sam grunted. His eyes rolled back and his body did an impressive rag-doll impression, even as Dean moved to catch him before he hit the ground, or at least prevent him from hitting anything that would cause him damage. Dean looked up at Kaitlyn, his eyes expressing a mixture of anger and fear for his brother. Once again Sam managed to draw the direct attention of a sinister foe. Truth be told, he also blamed Kaitlyn, as she was the reason they were there.

Kaitlyn looked at Dean, at a loss. She was about to tell him when Thomas' laughter ripped through her head. He said you'd bring them and you did. "What?" Kaitlyn asked out loud, confused. She could practically feel Thomas' leering smile as he continued. You were a treat. Disposing of the Winchester brothers is my rite of passage. I will be a god! Thomas laughed again. Kaitlyn felt sick to her stomach as her eyes caught Dean's again. "No!" She whispered. She had not considered before that anyone besides herself would be in danger. She never would have brought the brothers into this if she thought they would get hurt, or worse, die. She had only ever wanted to help them. "I don't know what to do," she confessed.

Dean's eyes bore into hers. He lashed out at her - his closest target. "What do you mean you don't know what to do?"

"I'm not a hunter. I don't know what to do to stop this…to stop him," she pointed at Thomas. Her voice, for the first time, raised to meet Dean's challenge. She already knew this was her fault; she didn't need to hear it from someone else. She also knew that confronting Thomas would mean re-entering his mind. Fear was eating away at her earlier resolve and determination to finish this.

"Why did you want to come here, then? What were you hoping to accomplish?" Dean carefully laid Sam down, and got to his feet. He pulled out his knife with every intention of killing Thomas to end this, once and for all.

"No!" Kaitlyn reached for Dean's arm, which he promptly shrugged off. "You can't just kill Thomas. Just… If Sam is in Thomas' mind, killing Thomas could very likely kill Sam. The fact that they're psychically linked could kill Sam, even if he's not in Thomas' mind." Dean paused to consider what she was saying and lowered his knife. "Besides, if it comes to that, there are less… obvious ways to do it."

Dean took a look around at all of the machines that were keeping Thomas alive. He inwardly berated himself for the lapse in logic. Yeah, and a window is easier to break than a door. Returning his heated gaze to Kaitlyn he said, "Well, you got Sam into this, you better figure out a way to get him back, or so help me…" He let the threat trail off.

Kaitlyn stared back at Dean for a moment before dropping her head in defeat. "Alright… Well… I'm going to have to find Sam. Figure out where he is, first. Just… be careful. Thomas intends to kill us."

"Great," Dean said. I guess I get to stand around and twiddle my thumbs. "And what am I supposed to do?"

"Wait," she tried to give him a reassuring smile. "And don't trust anyone who comes into the room."

She turned her attention to Sam, touched the top of his head, and dove into the reality that isn't – or perhaps is more so.

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A/N - Thanks again for those who continue to read and review, especially with the alerts down. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. Thanks also to J.A. Carlton, mom and mei mei. The next couple of chapters have been particularly frustrating to write, and I can't say thanks enough for baring with me, and listening to me complain... and then giving wonderfully helpful suggestions for making the story better. Thanks.