Well I'm back, so I should be updating frequently from now on. Enjoy!

Suddenly it hit him, and Sam's eyes snapped up to rest on the door. He knew where he wanted the portal to take him. The thing had told him that he could have a second chance to change something—and he knew what he wanted to change. He looked back down and concentrated again.

TRUST ME

Dean sighed, "Sam, please…"

I HAVE TO GO…MAYBE I CAN FIX EVERYTHING

Dean continued talking to him, begging him to stay, but Sam just looked away guiltily and stood up. He had to do it, after all. He had to.

He opened the door and—

Dean stood up angrily, cursing the stubbornness of his brother and his own inability to help him. He walked back over to the bed and began leafing through the files again. Faces stared up at him from the pages of old yellowing newspaper clippings, all either missing or brutally killed—all victims of the room. He kept searching, hoping to see something—anything—he might have missed that would help Sam get out of this mess.

Mrs. Winters walked into the room and handed him a steaming cup of coffee. "Thanks." Dean said warily. He lifted the cup to his lips and cautiously took a sip of the scalding liquid.

"Sure thing, hon…you're going to need it."

"Yeah." Dean agreed, running a hand over his face. He took another sip of coffee and then sat the steaming mug down on the nightstand, prepared to continue searching.

"Dean?" Mrs. Winters said kindly.

"What?" he said, not bothering to look up.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" he asked, opening another file.

"Oh Dean…" she said, and then laughed coldly.

Dean blinked and then looked quizzically up at her.

She smiled. "You're not ready, are you?"

He stared at her, completely confused. "What are you talking about?"

The lights in the room flickered wildly and then went out completely, leaving them in the dark. "What the hell?" he muttered, standing up. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

Suddenly there was a flash of white light. Dean gasped in surprise and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Dean?" a man's voice said apprehensively. "Dean, what is it?"

Dean's eyes snapped open and focused on the man standing beside him. "…Bobby?" he said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Bobby's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious? You called me and asked for my help to find Sam, remember?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat. It couldn't be…

He looked around and saw that they weren't in the room, they were standing outside.

In a forest.

And suddenly he knew exactly where he was—and when. Without another word, Dean took off running, his heart pounding in his chest.

Meanwhile…

Sam was momentarily blinded by the light on the other side of the door—the portal. He took a shaky breath, his hand still resting on the doorknob, suddenly unsure of what he was doing. He tightly shut his eyes and then stepped over the threshold.

WHAM

Something connected powerfully with the side of his head and, completely disoriented, he fell to the ground. The scent of dirt and grass hit his nostrils—he was outside.

Outside…

Sam opened his eyes just in time to see Jake swinging a knife toward his head. With a cry, Sam rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. He barely had time to take a breath before Jake lunged at him again, this time managing to slice a deep gash across his upper left arm. "Jake, stop!" he yelled desperately, fully aware that his words were futile.

Jake wasn't going to stop until he was dead.

Just like last time.

As Jake moved to strike again Sam jumped aside and grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to wrench the knife out of his strong grasp.

Jake snarled angrily and tightened his grip on the weapon. "You can't beat me, Sam!" he spat. "Only one of us is walking out of here tonight, and it's gonna be me! You don't have the guts to kill me anyway!"

Sam concentrated hard, slowly managing to point the knife blade at Jake. "I've done it before, actually." He said, eyes narrowed.

Jake laughed, a hollow, empty sound lacking all humor. "Quit fighting this. I promise your death will be quick—you'll barely even feel it."

"Yeah," Sam said, memories running through his head like wildfire, "I'd probably be dead before I hit the ground—but I'm not dying this time!" hands shaking, he inched the knife closer and closer to Jake's throat. Jake kicked Sam frantically, but couldn't manage to throw him off.

Sam was stronger, and he wasn't letting go, he couldn't…not now. He was so close, all he had to do was kill Jake and it would all be over. His senses seemed to be heightened; he could hear Jake's frantic breathing, see the beads of sweat trickling down his face.

This was it.

The moment.

He moved the blade forward, forcing it against Jake's neck, and saw red droplets of blood seep out of the small cut…

FLASH

A bright light engulfed him without warning, blinding him. Startled, Sam loosened his hold on Jake's arm and felt it slip through his fingers like a snake. Something slammed into his chest, knocking him back a step.

"No!" Someone screamed wildly behind him.

The light vanished and Sam saw Jake standing right in front of him, staring wide eyed at something over his shoulder.

A gun shot rang out.

The bullet lodged itself in Jake's forehead, killing him instantly. As Sam stared the body seemed to hang suspended in the air, and then it crumpled unceremoniously to the ground.

Dean dropped his gun and ran forward towards Sam, knowing what had happened but refusing to accept it.

Not again…

He stopped a couple of steps away from his brother and hesitated, too scared of what he might see to get any closer.

Sam's back was to him. He watched, unable to look away, as Sam raised a hand to his chest, looked at it, and then let it drop back to his side.

His fingers were covered in blood.

Dean stared at the blood, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. It was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of his lungs. "No." he breathed, reaching out a trembling hand and gripping his brother's shoulder.

At the sound of his voice Sam tilted his head to the side and looked down at the hand resting on his shoulder. "Dean." he whispered. "I…I…" he stopped, seemingly at a loss for words, and turned around.

The knife blade was lodged into Sam's chest up to the hilt, crimson blood streaming from the wound.

Uh-oh! Should be a nice angsty chapter coming soon!