Disclaimer - Usual.

A/N - I did not give this chapter my final run-through, so all errors are mine. Thanks.

Chapter 13

Thomas couldn't help but smile at his own brilliance. Sam was currently occupied. Kaitlyn was being detained. That left Dean. When Thomas had taken over Kaitlyn's body, her mind had been trapped in his. He knew that taking over someone else's body when they were "home," so to speak, could hold it's own dangers for him, but he was also sure that Sam was so focused inwardly, he would barely notice if his physical shell was being borrowed for a few minutes.

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Dean was grunting and huffing to himself. He felt frustrated, out of his element, and otherwise just plain useless. So he occupied himself with a little manual labor. Well, "little" might not have been the right word. His brother was a veritable giant, and his thin frame and loose clothes belied a surprising musculature. Sam had never been built as solidly as his brother, but he was no lightweight. Dean decided to put Sam and Kaitlyn into chairs, looking like they were resting. That way if somebody did enter the room, it wouldn't look like a scene from Resident Evil with everyone passed out on the floor. There were going to be enough questions from the authorities if this couldn't be handled discretely. He was just trying to limit the difficult ones.

So Dean had tied Kaitlyn's hand to Sam's to keep some kind of body contact. Kaitlyn had not needed a physical connection with Thomas to enter his mind, but she had maintained contact with Sam while working her mojo with him. Dean wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks, not where his brother was concerned. There was a lot of back-and-forth shifting of the bodies to keep them together. He'd finally hoisted Sam into a chair, propped his feet on Thomas' bed and put a blanket on his legs. He'd thought about drawing a mustache and glasses on Sam, but work before play, and he wanted to finish setting the stage first. Kaitlyn was lying on the floor between the wall and Thomas' bed, her arm suspended in mid-air from being tied to Sam's.

Dean stripped off his coat and went to get the second chair from the other side of the room. "Why can't they fall in the chair? Or better yet, why fall at all, why not sit first? But noo, let's just fall to the floor. Like she couldn't have waited another second to sit down. How inconspicuous is that? I can see it now… 'Why are there bodies all over the floor?' 'Well, you see, Doc, Thomas is a bad man who kills people with his mind. So my brother and his friend are out taking a spirit walk to track this guy down and stop him before he kills someone else. No, really. It wasn't me. Don't worry, they're not dead...' Yet! I swear, Sammy…" A noise behind him caught his attention and he spun on the spot.

Dean's mouth fell open for a second in surprise as he saw Sam standing and trying to extricate himself from Kaitlyn. "Wha…? So… What's going on? Where's Kaitlyn?"

Sam finished freeing himself and looked up at Dean. A grin spread on his face. "Everything is going according to plan."

Dean wasn't sure what plan Sam was talking about, and he really didn't like the grin on his brother's face or look in his eyes. "Are you all right, little brother?"

"Fine." Sam said while stepping toward Dean.

Years of training in various forms of hand-to-hand combat, combined with that excellent, and sometimes uncanny, instinct of Dean's, allowing him to block the first punch that Sam threw. "What the h-?" He blocked again. A brief sparring match ensued with a flurry of fists and legs, punching and blocking. Dean could have taken Sam out a lot sooner, but he was trying to do minimal damage to Sam's body. Dean finally got Sam pinned, chest to the wall. "Well, you're definitely not Sam. He fights a hell of a lot better. You must be Thomas."

The laugh that came from Sam's body was creepy and devoid of humor and it was made all the more eerie because Dean could never remember Sam ever making a noise like that. "Good," Thomas said. "Too bad muscle memory only carries so far. I'll just have to use a different tack." And with that, pain shot through Dean's head. It felt like someone was driving a spike through his eye. He cried out and instinctively released Sam, raising his hands to protect his head. He staggered back and then the pain was gone except for a faint throbbing reminder. No! Not again. First Dad… "Sammy?" While lowering his hands and giving his head a little shake, Dean called out to Sam hoping he would be able to hear him. At least he wasn't bleeding to death. And that gave him time.

"He can't hear you." Thomas chuckled again, which sent chills up Dean's spine. "He's otherwise engaged." The laughter grew more maniacal as Thomas amused himself with a private joke.

"What are you doing to him?" Who knew you could look so creepy, bro.

"Me? Nothing. He's getting a chance to make up for lost time with his beloved Jess. I'm doing him a favor, you could say." The Joker-esque grin remained plastered on Sam's face, and had it been anyone but his brother, Dean would have likely tried to smack it off.

"Let him go, you son-of-a-bitch." Dean stepped forward fisting his hands in Sam's shirt and slamming him, not too hard, into the wall behind him.

"Hey. Hey!" Thomas' face grew temporarily serious. "Watch the merchandise. You know, this is a nice body." Thomas looked down and favorably examined Sam's hands and arms. "I could grow to like it here. Maybe even make myself a new home."

"Like hell!" Dean growled.

"Oh, don't worry, you won't be around." And with that Thomas reached up and grabbed both sides of Dean's head. Again, pain shot through Dean's body. This time the spike that started in his head sent cold liquid through his entire nervous system and his legs gave out under him. Once he hit the ground, Thomas took the opportunity to kick him in the midsection, once, twice. He went for a third, but Dean managed to roll out of reach of the offending foot.

"Has anyone ever told you…" Dean weakly got to his hands and knees and gasped a little for breath, "that you kick like a girl?"

This comment enraged Thomas and he stepped forward to kick again. Dean blocked the kick with his arm, while sweeping Thomas' other leg out from under him, and he landed hard.

"Sammy!" Dean called. "Come on man. Fight it. Don't make me kick your ass… Please." He whispered the last word. When his father had been possessed, Dean had been unable to take action against him. He knew that, when it came down to it, he wouldn't be able to help Sam, either. This mirrored too closely one of Dean's deepest fears, and it brought out a feeling of desperation in him that he'd seldom ever felt before, and only where Sam was concerned. His mind told him that this was not a demon, and that, if he could just knock Sam unconscious, it would be over. It had worked for Kaitlyn. But his fear was playing against him, strangling his ability to act decisively. This is just like Ellicott; just pop him one. Dean got gingerly off the floor and walked to Sam, who was almost standing now.

"No." Thomas put his hand out and looked at Dean, in wide-eyed bewilderment. He would not be bested by this mortal. He didn't even have any power. "No!" He lunged at Dean, again commanding pain to consume Dean's entire body. This time, he did not stop when Dean dropped to the floor. He watched in fascination and growing excitement as Dean squirmed and twitched like a bug pinned by a seven- year-old boy to a piece of cardboard.

"SAM!" Dean cried out, reflexive tears streamed down his face. He had lost all bodily control due to the pain and raw energy coursing through his nervous system. Well, at least I don't have to pee. He would not allow himself to pass out. Where are you, Sam? If Sam couldn't help him, then he, too, was in trouble and needed help. Certain things never changed. Sam in danger was the only motivation Dean needed to move mountains and breathe fire. But first, he had to remember how to move his own body and breathe air.

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Once Thomas realized that Kaitlyn had given Sam the key to his freedom, it was only a matter of time until she would feel his wrath. And it came swiftly. He grabbed her and the next the she knew, they were traveling the space in-between, from one body to another. She could not fight him here or risk losing her way. When they landed, she was not surprised to be back in Thomas' house, but she was still gripped by fear. Once inside, Thomas actually let her go. She was stunned for a moment and turned to look at him. His smile reminded her forcibly of the Cheshire Cat from American McGee's Alice. A shiver ran through her and she knew she was meant to run. She ran half-way down the front hall, still lit in the fluorescent green from her earlier visit, when she heard the soft thuds of the zombie women freeing themselves from their portraits.

There was really nowhere she could hide. She figured Thomas could see in his house as if it was daytime. It was his mind, after all. And even if it was dark, he would no doubt know the house like the back of his hand. However, this idea gave her a faint glimmer of hope. If the house really was lit for Thomas, he might not see her luminous footprints, which might just buy her some time. She ran up the stairs and into the rooms she had already visited. Traveling through the rooms, she found one with a closet and curled up as small as she could in the corner.

While Kaitlyn waited, she stretched out with her mind, trying to read as much as she could of Thomas' state of mind. What she felt confused her. Thomas' emotions seemed to change from moment to moment, as if he was locked in some battle, and whichever way the battle was going, his emotions went with it. He was elated, but also conflicted; frustrated and scared, and then triumphant. He also felt somehow thinned. Kaitlyn searched for his location, like they had at the hospital. This temporarily illuminated everything around her in a white/grey light, and she saw a figure approaching her. But, had she not know she was in Thomas' mind's mind, she would not have recognized the glow, for it was less vibrant than it had been earlier. Kaitlyn wasn't sure what this meant though.

As she knew he would, Thomas found the room in which she was hiding, and he was not alone. When the closet door swung open, Kaitlyn had prepared herself to strike out at him. She was confused when she couldn't see anyone standing in front of her. But then a strong hand grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the back of the cabinet, dazing her. He remained invisible as he pulled her out of the closet by her hair. She reached up with both hands and wrapped them around his forearm. She dug in with her nails, trying to get him to release her. Thomas only laughed in response. Then he pushed her head down connecting it with his knee. Fireworks burst in Kaitlyn's eyes and tears streamed from them as blood started to flow from her nose.

He did not give her a chance to recover any footing. Thomas dragged her into the hall. When she tried to swing at him or grab things with her arms, he kicked to the side, catching her in the ribs. At the top of the stairs, the zombie-women were waiting and he threw her at them. She felt herself being consumed by pain and screaming, not sure what was her own and what belonged to the victims. She did not have much time before she would either pass out or lose herself in the flood of memories.

Silence fell around her; that ringing silence you hear when all noise has suddenly ceased. She dared to look around. Her strength was fading and when Thomas pulled her to her feet, she did little to resist him. He pulled her close to him in an almost gentle embrace and whispered in her ear. "You know, I had thought about making you my goddess." He held her up with one arm and with his hand he caressed her. He stroked her hair and then his hand traveled down her body in an intimate fashion he had never earned. Then, suddenly, he reached up and yanked her head back, fingers curled in her hair. Kaitlyn let out a quiet sob. His lips ghosted her neck as he continued to whisper, "But you're tainted and wouldn't be able to appreciate the artistry of the work I do." Thank goodness for small favors, she thought to herself. "Instead, I'm going to own you. I'm going to crush you, mold you, and paint you like the piece of clay you are. Don't worry, you may not look like much now, but I'll make you into something worth seeing… First, you have to realize you have no hope. You are all alone and no one is going to save you. See?" Thomas brought her head back up and put his lips to hers. She tried to pull away, but she barely had the strength to stand.

And then images flooded her head. She saw Sam, torn between the woman he loved and the knowledge that he was needed elsewhere. And she saw Dean struggling with an enemy wearing his brother's face. It was a fight he couldn't win, no matter the outcome. He lost himself or he lost his brother; it was a choice he'd already made. She could feel their pain and read their thoughts like she had never been able to before, and she was unprepared for the onslaught. In frustration, she had sometimes wished that she could read more than just emotions; but after this, she would never want that again.

Kaitlyn cried for them. She felt the desperation in their struggles and her own. So with a prayer for herself and the men she was watching being torn apart from the inside, she decided to try to tip the scales and unbalance the fight. She withdrew into herself like coiling a spring, trying both to put up walls of defense to be able to focus better and to draw in enough energy to push through Thomas' mind and reach Sam. She figured she would only have the strength to do this once before her energy was spent and her defenses fell. Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the surrounding noises, sights, and sensations.

For a moment, Thomas thought Kaitlyn had withered at the sight of the Winchester's in peril. She became limp in his arms and he nearly dropped her. He could feel her mind withdraw, like one of those little pill bugs that you poke and they curl into a ball. Truth be told, he was a little disappointed. But then a sudden burst of energy pushed out from her, knocking him back and he did drop her. He could hear her call out, "Sam… Help... Dean!" He smiled, pleasantly surprised. Good, she's not done fighting yet. But sorry, little princess, your knight isn't going to make it. He picked her up and carried her to his very favorite room. He stripped her of her last defenses and then shackled her to the wall.

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"Jess." Sam rested his forehead against hers. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, and with his left hand he caressed her face. A tear slipped down his cheek. "I've missed you." Jess encircled Sam in her gentle embrace. He sniffed and looked her in the eyes. "This isn't fair."

"What, Sam? What is it?" Jess looked at him with concern. He had always been a man of secrets, but it had never stopped her from trying to get him to open up.

"I… I can't. I… You're not real, and Kaitlyn…" Sam turned his head toward the door that would lead him to Thomas' mind.

Jess reached up and guided his face back to hers. She kissed him comfortingly. "She'll be fine. She was before. And anyway, who says I'm not real?" She smiled and gave him a playful squeeze around his middle.

"But you're… you…"

"Died? I'm real here, though. You've kept me alive… in here," she put her hand over Sam's heart. "And now, we can be together."

Sam started to pull away from Jess. "But, this isn't the real world. I can't stay here."

Jess gave a small chuckle. "Sam, this is your mind… In your body. Of course you can stay here. You never really leave, now do you?"

"But Dean needs me. You don't know what we've been through lately."

Just then, the office that Sam had used to organize his mind gave a shudder and he knew something was going on outside the comfort of this haven. "What was that?"

"Probably just an earthquake. We do live in California." Jess's tone was light with a hint of amusement at Sam's concern, though her eyes flashed for the briefest second with some other emotion. Fear? Frustration?

Sam really wanted to believe her. But we're not IN California… What he wouldn't give to spend just one more day with her. Part of him wanted to believe in this reality – a reality he could control, one in which Jess would be with him. But he knew. We're not IN CaliFORnia… He reminded himself and in his heart he knew that this was an illusion and there was more going on here than met the eye.

Sam took a step back from Jess this time. "No. I really have to go. If this is real, I can come back. You'll be here waiting for me. Right?" Sam pleaded in the hope that this could possibly be true.

Before Jess could answer, the lights flickered in the office. He looked at Jess questioningly, wondering what could disturb his environment if it wasn't him. He headed toward a window. The best way to see what was going on was to look outside.

Jess reached for his arm. "Sam, please." An echo from the past made his stop in his tracks. Whether by chance or design, those words, and the tone in which they were spoken, were the same ones she had used in their last conversation together.

"I'm just going to look out the window…" Another tremor shook the building. This one was followed by a larger power surge.

The earth shook again and Sam could have sworn he heard Dean whisper, "Please." He glanced at Jess who looked scared. Her fear was palpable - surrounding him.

"Jess, what is it?"

She giggled and said in an embarrassed tone, "I guess I'm not so brave in an earthquake after all."

Another power surge caused the lights in the office to flicker and turn off for a few seconds. And this time he was sure he heard his brother plead his name.

"Dean…"

"Sam, don't." Jessica said, looking slightly angry, in addition to being scared. "Don't leave me. Not again."

"Dean's in trouble. I need to help him." Please tell me you understand, Jess.

"Please, Sam. You never even talked about your family."

Again, the echo of the past made Sam stop in his tracks. "What?"

"You left them before. And they managed just fine. Stay with me…please." Sam was stung by her words. It was true, he had left his family. And how many hunts had they gone on without him? How often had they been in peril and he hadn't been there? And they had been fine. But Dean had dad then. Now he had no one, not even Laura. Sam couldn't leave him again. Not now. Now that he understood his brother, the sacrifice he'd made letting Sam go. With all that had happened lately, it might just kill him if Sam left again.

He turned his back on her to find a window. Jess's voice call to him again. She sounded heartbroken, and for all his logic, his heart still hurt. "You're going to leave me for him again, aren't you?"

He half turned back to her. "I have to, Jess. He's my brother… and my family," And he's all I really have left.

When he turned to walk away, Sam heard Jess scream. The sound chilled him to his core. Don't turn around. Don't turn around. But for some reason, his body wasn't listening to his head, and when he turned, he had to grab a wall for support. Jess was standing, looking wide-eyed at her hands. They were covered in blood from a slash that had ripped across her stomach. She looked up at Sam in shock and dropped to her knees as her life poured onto the floor. Sam ran to her.

"Oh God …" Sam only hoped He was listening. He took off the jacket he was wearing and made a pillow for her head as he gently lowered her the rest of the way to the floor.

"Sam…" Jess whispered.

"Shhh. Don't talk." He took off his hoody and pressed it to her stomach wound, trying to ebb the flow and give him a few precious last minutes. This wasn't his mind; this was his hell.

"You…k...killed…me…again." Jess pushed the words out in shallow breathes. Sam ducked his head as tears started to flow. He knew – he. knew. – that this wasn't his Jess, but it was killing him all the same. "You…left… I… loved… you…" and she was gone once more.

"NO!" Sam yelled. He stood up and looked down at his blood soaked hands. This was how it should have looked last time. She was right, he had killed her. Maybe I can bring her back. It was an irrational thought born of grief and desperation.

"Sam… Help…Dean!" Kaitlyn's voice reached him from somewhere beyond the office, returning him to the immediate needs of the present. This wasn't real. Thomas had used the memory of Jess and his love for her to keep him bound here. If anything happened to Dean or Kaitlyn, he could add this to his burden of guilt, but for now, he couldn't afford to waste more time. He stood and turned from the body at his feet. Thomas was not going to get a chance to corrupt anyone else's thoughts and memories.

"I'm comin', big brother." And as he walked toward the window, the blood on his hands disappeared, the illusion no longer holding power over the young psychic.

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tbc

A/N - Ah... we're finally closing in on the end. Whew. Thanks all for coming with me on this journey and for your many encouraging words to continue. I can't fully express my gratitude. Thanks to all.

And, of course, special thanks to J.A. Carlton, mom and mei mei, to whom I subjected a couple of versions of this chapter and they suffered through like troopers. Curtsy