A/N: Thanks as always to the people I can always count on to be there for me. Vonnie, ST, MysteryMadchen, Nana56, Madebyme, and other wonderful reviewers. Thanks for the support. Still not happy with this story but I've decided that I'd just post and let it ride instead of tweaking myself into insanity.

On the home front here: MY BROTHER GOT SOLE CUSTODY OF HIS SON! Thank God, for I have no doubt that if someone else had gotten him, he wouldn't be in our lives at all. We all had to wonder at the Judges' observations on how a mother who said she loves her son would just give up the fight for him halfway through the hearing. No questions for us, no calling us liars, no tears when she lost... just... nothing. Just lots of threats and slander on Facebook now. IT'S NOT AS PRIVATE AS YOU THINK!

Don't own anyone but Lili. Again, warnings for artistic liberties and no talent. Also, watch out for the holes in this that are probably big enough to swallow you whole.

CHAPTER 3

Dean finally breathed easier when the arch proclaiming Singer Salvage Yard with it's peeling white paint and the protection sigils Dean had helped Bobby carve the summer when he was eleven, a few years before the falling out between Bobby and John, came into view. He glanced for the umpteenth time in the rear view mirror, seeing Sam's face cast in shadow where the interior of the car blocked the light of the crescent moon. Pain lines were cast in stark relief around Sam's mouth when the car passed beneath one of Bobby's security lights, making him whine.

"Easy Sam." Dean muttered reassuringly, casting a last glance before he pulled the Impala in next to what he thought was Bobby's latest restoration, and a beautiful classic Chevrolet pickup. Dean barely spared the truck a glance though as he pulled as close to the porch as he could in an effort to make it easier to get Sam to safety.

Dean pushed himself from the seat, turning to the back door. He vaguely heard Bobby's screen door screech open and bang closed and a rapid succession of footsteps as Bobby quickly joined him at the car. Dean smiled sadly and quickly cast his attention back to his brother, reaching in and clasping his hand to the side of Sam's neck. His thumb worked over Sam's warm flesh over his pulse.

"Hey, Sammy, wake up." Dean watched Sam's eyelids flutter. "That's it, dude." Dean shifted his leather jacket from where it rested around Sam's shoulders. Sam's eyes opened slowly, blinking until awareness crept in.

"Dean?" Sam said around a yawn, stretching slightly.

"Hey, y'alright?" Sam flinched when his fist bumped off the interior of the car.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Sammy, don't you remember what happened?"

"I dunno. My arm hurts but it feels like a really weird dream. What did happen, Dean?"

May 2, 1996

"Dad?"

"What, Sammy?" John asked, not looking up from the dusty tomes scattered in front of him.

"Can…can I talk to you?" Something in Sam's tone had John looking up at his son.

"Yeah, son." Sam eased into a chair, a grateful sigh escaping his lips.

"I've been having these dreams."

"You're brother told me." The thirteen year old appeared startled for a second.

"Well…I feel like I'm missing something."

"What do you mean?"

"In my dreams, I see someone. A beautiful woman. She's smiling down at me and then she just…disappears."

It was John's turn to appear startled. "She disappears?"

"Yeah. I feel like something happens to her, like I should remember what happened. But no matter how hard I try, I can't. I wish I could remember!"

"The time will come when you will."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said, dejected. He turned and walked towards the small bedroom that he and his brother shared, shoulders hunched, hair in his eyes. John's eyes watched his youngest retreat, realizing once again that there was something different about his boy.

Dean looked at his brother, seeing the tightness in the lines around Sam's eyes and mouth, and his pale, compressed lips as Sam looked back. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. A little tired, maybe."

Dean reached in and helped Sam out of the car, steadying him as he swayed. The youngest Winchester finally seemed to realize that his old friend was there too. "Guess I'm a little more tired than I thought." Sam muttered, leaning slightly on his brother. He smiled sheepishly at Bobby.

"Lets getcha inside." Dean said.

"I wanna look at that arm, boy."

"Let's get 'im inside first."

"Dean…"

"Bobby, please." Dean growled. His eyes instantly softened with regret. "I…"

"'S alright, boy. Let's get yer brother inside."

Dean turned towards the steps to the house and led his brother up them slowly. They banged through the screen door and Dean eased Sam down on the couch, Sam's harsh breathing the only sound in the room.

"Wow." Sam huffed. "What the hell?" Sam hunched in on himself, hugging his arm.

"Sammy?" Dean said, hunkering down into a crouch beside Sam.

"He's feeling the infection." A female voice said from the corner of the room.

Dean's eyes shifted to take in the newcomer. "Who the f-" Dean barely censured himself as he realized he was so preoccupied with Sam that he didn't realize that she was standing there, "are you?"

"Her name's Lili. Boys, we have to talk."

Dean and Sam moved to the table in Bobby's study. Lili moved to stand beside the fireplace, picking up a small black bag containing herbs. She sprinkled some in the orange flames, watching as they briefly flared purple and blue. A rich, spicy smell filled the room.

Sam sat down at the table and rubbed at his eyes with his good hand before propping his chin in his palm and huffing a sigh. His affected arm stayed closely protected at his waist.

"I helped an old friend adopt Lili here, when she was just a whelp. Somethin' killed 'er ma, and a hunter was there t'help." Bobby explained.

"And Nolan Brady raised me like his own. Taught me how to fight what is out to get me because of what I am, the power that I can give the ancient enemy of my race." Lili said, still leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, fingers toying with her mother's bracelet, the soft jingle of the silver discs nearly drowned out by her low voice.

"Come again?"

"I am Chovihani. A line of ancient witches that your people often mistakenly referred to as Gypsies."

"You're a witch?" Dean growled, bolting to his feet with so much speed that his chair clattered to the floor. He automatically moved in front of Sam, fingers twitching towards the knife concealed at his belt.

"Dean." Sam said, chair scraping across the wood floor. He gripped his brother's shoulder from behind.

"I know what you are." Sam said, looking at her, an odd expression crossing his features. Lili stood straight, lavender eyes catching the firelight. Lili lunged towards the fire, hand scooping up the cooling ash at the edge of the fire. She threw the handful of ash at Sam, the pungent smell of burned herbs filling the room. Bobby reached to restrain Sam as he gave a serpentine hiss. The black mass swirled under his skin and he threw out a hand, catching Bobby across the jaw and knocking the older man backwards into the sturdy table. He slumped to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean cried as Sam ran from the room. Dean rushed after him and banged through the door to see Sam disappear into the moonless night, moving as if it were broad daylight.

"Dean wait!" Lili cried, grabbing the hunter by the arm and stopping him from following his brother into the darkness. Bobby stumbled out the door behind them, handkerchief pressed to a seeping scratch on his cheek.

"I gotta go after him!"

"Dean, we're not ready for what has him! If you want to get him back, we have work to do."

"There's only been a handful of times I've seen that kid scared. He's tough as nails. There's part of him that's freaked. And that thing is keepin' me from helping him! I am not gonna let it "

June 21, 1992.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, his feet tangled in the worn covers that kept him warm in the drafty apartment. Dean sat up on the bed at his brother's cry, seeing the youngest Winchester panting, tears streaming down his pale face, wide eyes on the door across from his bed. "Daddy! Daddy!" the nine year old cried. John came running into the room, pistol in hand, eyes bloodshot, reeking of his latest all night talk with Jim, Jack and José.

"Sammy, what the hell?" John asked, eyeing his youngest son, the older one crowding his shaking brother close.

"Daddy, there's something in the closet! I saw it open the door." Sam said, pointing a trembling finger at the warped door.

"Aw, Chri- Sam…" John lowered the gun and ran a hand back through his dark hair.

"Sammy, nothin' opened the door." Dean said, gripping Sam's arm reassuringly and lowering his fingers to the blanket bunched at his small waist.

"But, I saw it!" Sam cried, pointing at the door again and looking at his dad as another tear ran down his cheek. "Why don't you believe me?" Sam sniffled miserably.

"Look, I'll check the closet, okay?"

Sam nodded, another sniffle breaking the sudden silence of the room. He crowded closer to Dean, laying his head on his brother's shoulder and peeking over the bulky fabric of Dean's pajama shirt. John skirted to the side of the door, turning the handle with a muffled squeak. He threw open the door and cleared the small space with a sweep of the pistol. He turned and closed the door.

"There's nothin' in there Sammy."

"B-but…"

"Damnit, Sam…" John started, only for Dean to cut him off, speaking softly to his little brother.

"It's okay Sammy. Dad said there's nothin' there. See, it's scared of him. Already ran away." Dean said.

"I'm still scared, De."

John sighed, stepping closer to his kids. "Here, Sam. This will help." John put a hand behind his back and produced a pistol.

"Dad, your .45?" Dean questioned. John flipped the pistol comfortably in his hand, holding it butt first out to his youngest.

"Here, kiddo. Next time you see the thing in your closet, you know what to do."

Sam eyed the gun with awe, nodding his head. John double checked the safety on the gun and put it in Sam's small hands. "Keep it close. You know what it can do so you be damn careful, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir." Sam said, his tears drying on his cheeks.

"Good boys. Get some sleep, we're target shooting in the morning. Sam, you'll start usin' that gun."

"Yes, Sir." The boys echoed.

"We'll find him, Dean. And we'll help him." Lili said, her bracelet jangling as she brushed her long dark hair back over her shoulder. "The Darkness is calling to him. It will force him to seek it out, to give in."

"Where'll it make him go?"

"Somewhere dark, someplace that reeks of evil, of death. Someplace that the wraith can draw that to it, to feed from it. That's where it will take Sam over."

"I know where he'll go." Bobby said.

"Where?"

"The graveyard at the other end of town."

"Why there?" Lili asked.

"Been tryin' to stop the crap that's happenin' in that hole for a few weeks. Can't narrow down what's doin it yet. Kids bein' sucked in, possessed. Sacrificin' animals, other kids. One brutal place."

"Let's go get him!" Dean said, heading for the Impala. Lili and Bobby followed, all climbing into the big black car. Dean fired the engine and pulled out, the tires spitting gravel behind them. He slowed down when he approached the road at the end of the drive and Lili lowered her window, shining a flashlight into the distance, searching for movement, trying to find Sam among the buildings, bushes and trees.

"We'll never catch 'im in town. We just haf'ta beat him to the cemetery and set up a trap." Bobby said, fingers gripping the top of the seat back as he looked out the windshield between Dean and Lili.

The engine rumbled and Dean headed to the opposite end of town.

Fog snaked in around the tombstones, some looking like they'd been placed just days ago and others like they'd crumble to dust at the barest touch. Moisture clung to engraved black granite and stamped concrete slabs indiscriminately. Somewhere a cricket chirped, leaves rustled and an owl hooted. The moon was barely there, a sliver looking like a cat's eye in a halo of clouds. The three made their way through the tombstones toward the church. Shadows grew as tombstones became more like towers, huge carved spires of marble and granite. Imposing statues of angels with wings spread wide, stained by years of neglect and weather making many of them appear to be crying as old water stains combined with the moisture beading in the night air. Dean took point, signing to Bobby and Lili to stay close, opting to search for Sam as a group, instead of leaving themselves vulnerable to a Sam that wasn't their Sam.

Dean stepped into the shadows of a large mausoleum, stopping instantly when he caught a brief rustling that wasn't the normal night sounds. In fact he heard nothing normal about the night sounds. The cricket had disappeared, even the wind died completely. The moon was smothered by a huge bank of clouds, completely blocking any source of light. The dew that had accumulated on the stones, the grass, stopped reflecting it's light and instead looked like miniature black holes as they seemed to echo the blackness around them. Bobby reached for the flashlight on his hip. Lili grabbed his arm and stopped him. Dean took another step into the darkness and a form flashed out of the shadows, sprinting through the maze of tombstones like it was a racetrack. "Sam!" Dean cried, taking off after his brother.

"Dean, wait!" Bobby cried. Lili and The older hunter moved cautiously through the tombstones, going after Dean. They heard him call for Sam again in the distance ahead of them.

"You know this is a trap right?" Lili asked Bobby.

"All we can do is not let it get sprung."

Dean rounded the corner of a large mausoleum and pulled up short. Sam was there, only feet in front of him.

"Sammy?"

Sam jumped at the sound of the voice, startled. He hissed as he spun on Dean, a thin moan overlaid by another sound, one that chilled Dean to the bone.

Sam's eyes focused on Dean, the whites bright around irises that were teal green infused with streaks of black that seeped into the pupils and made them seem like dark, stormy seas. Sam's face appeared to morph and darken before Dean's eyes, black streaks shifting under his skin. Dean grabbed Sam's arms in a gentle grip.

"You've been poisoned or somethin' Sammy. We're gonna figure this out. Getcha back to normal." Sam spun away from Dean's grasp, shrinking into the doorway of a mausoleum, cowering, hands over his face. He moaned, the reedy sound blending in with his normal tones.

"I can hear them." Sam spoke, his voice pained, stressed almost to its breaking point.

"What? What can ya hear Sammy?"

"Wailing. Rising and falling, fading. Drifting on the air. Into the dark." Sam's voice took on a monotone rhythm, a deadpan sound barely above a whisper. Dean closed in on Sam, intent on pulling him up and finding a way to help his brother. Sam's hands dropped from his face and he looked up, the whites of his eyes red around the irises, like a spreading disease. The teal was nearly gone, shot through by black.

Sam roared, lunging at Dean and taking him to the ground, a small tombstone digging harshly into Dean's spine. Sam's face was directly over Dean's, twisted with malice, the black streaks in his eyes more prominent. Dean's own eyes widened as he watched the black move, darken and encroach more on the teal, seeming to devour the green that made Sam Sammy. Sam pinned Dean by straddling his chest, his knees digging into Dean's forearms and pinning him effectively to the brown grass. Dean's fingers began to tingle as Sam reared back and punched him in the jaw, snapping his head to the left and leaving him seeing stars. Dean's world grayed out around the edges, his ears ringing before sound cut back in and he heard Sam's voice. Or what he thought was Sam's voice until he could focus. The voice had a reedy, serpentine sound.

"I'm going to take over." the voice taunted, the words reaching Dean's ears a beat slower than Sam's mouth was moving. "You would be such an easy take. The hell in your soul would make me fat." Sam's face twisted, actually appearing to change. "He's given over to the darkness inside him once. I've enjoyed feeding from that, twisting it and making it grow. His guilty conscience makes him try to hide from me. His feeble struggle against me has been fun."

"What the hell are you?" Dean ground out, feeling Sam's large hands close over his throat.

"I'm what's going to kill the mindless soldier and relish the freedom of another darkened soul." The hands began to squeeze and Dean felt his air cut off, his lungs beginning to burn and vision beginning to blur. He saw Sam's eyes clearly as his face once again loomed directly over Dean's own. The black swirled and moved closer to obliterating the shining blue green.

"Dean!" another voice cried out, spearing straight though to Dean's fading awareness and bringing him back. Bright, firelight flooded the area from behind Sam. The big hands loosened from around his throat as Sam's voice blended with the serpentine one in a scream of pain, the pinning weight lifting quickly and staggering away. The light left Dean and pinned down the retreating figure hunched in the corner of the doorway as Lili stepped up, a hastily fashioned torch shining on the creature that was taking Sam over, pining him down with heat and firelight. The black streaks shone almost crimson in the bright light as Dean rolled over and focused clearing eyes on his brother. Sam screamed again as the streaks moved, retreating, before stabbing through beneath his skin, looking like tentacles burrowing their way through his veins to his brain.

Sam looked up, his eyes darkening even though the light contracted his pupils to pinpricks. "Gypsy bitch!" the serpentine voice growled, Sam's voice a deeper undertone to the reedy sound. Lili stepped forward, pinning Sam down with the fire as he fell to his knees, the darkness beneath his skin retreating slightly. Dean pushed himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily through parted lips. Lili pulled back the sawed off in her other hand and forced it downward, the butt slamming into the side of Sam's head and dropping him.

"Lili, what the hell?" Dean shouted, his voice still rough as he shoved to his feet and made his way to his brother's side. "You just pistol whipped my brother with a sawed off shotgun!" Bobby crouched beside Sam.

"This is bad." Bobby said, stepping forward, gently moving Sam's head to look at the small abrasion inflicted by the gun. Sam's blood leaked in a small stream from the head wound. The crimson fluid was shot through with parasitic looking black strings. The others ignored him, Lili stepping closer to Dean as her temper flared, making her stance rigid.

"It was the only way to get Sam out of the Darkness' hold and give him a chance. It can't reach him if he's unconscious. All it can do is spread."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Lili rounded on Dean, her diminutive form seeming imposing as her violet eyes glinted. "You know what I am. You were out in those woods and you were attacked. Sam took that hit, got touched. For you. If he hadn't, the Darkness would have taken you over in seconds!"

"Guys…"

"What. Are. You. Talking. About?" Dean snarled grabbing her shoulders and shaking her once, fed up with the Gypsy's riddles.

"Your time in hell blackened part of your soul Dean." Dean stared at the girl, dumbfounded. "It would have been a perfect incubator for the Darkness! That part of you buried deep inside would have came out in a swath of destruction that would have left nothing familiar, nothing good, behind!"

"HEY!" Bobby bellowed, making Dean and Lili jump. They faced him as he spoke again. "We just gonna let him lay here while you two Idjits exchange sweet nothings with each other?"

Dean nodded and looked at Lili, lowering his voice. "How?"

"I can see the difference in you." Lili turned as Sam stirred on the ground. "Him, we'll have time to help. You just have to believe me and we have to work together if you want your family back."

"So what's with the fire? How does that help us fight what's got Sammy?"

"O ushalin zhala sar o kam mangela. The shadow moves as the sun commands." Lili looked down at Sam and then back at Dean. "We leave no room for the darkness to get a foothold and we stand a chance at saving him."

"So just how are we gonna pull that off?"

"Keep him from dying until sunrise. Is there a church near this graveyard o' yours, Bobby?"

"Big ol' place, smack in the middle. Got a lot 'a windows." Bobby said, a light in his eyes that showed he was beginning to catch on. "It's just down over the hill."

Lili led the way, scanning the cemetery for hazards as the sky darkened, moon swallowed by a bank of clouds. Bobby steadied Sam with a shift to the grip he had on his young friend's legs while Dean wrapped his arms securely around Sam's chest. The older Winchester was quiet, lost in thought. I've fought to keep that kid safe all his life. Not gonna lose him again.

Dec 11, 1983

"Time for bed, Dean." John said, dark circles under his own eyes making him look older than his years. He held out an arm for a hug from his child. The four year old looked up at his father for a split second, face unmoving, mouth tightly sealed before he stood from his crouch on the floor in front of a broken down couch. He turned and went into the room he shared with baby Sammy, little more than a closet with a rickety crib John had found at a flea market and a musty smelling toddler bed that had been left along the curb in town for garbage pickup. John followed his son to the door, watching the boy lean over his brother's crib, brush a kiss on the tiny forehead, and move to his own bed. Dean laid down on the unstable bed, pulling a threadbare quilt tightly around his shoulders. He faced the wall away from John.

John sighed, working a hand through his stubble as he turned away, wondering when he had lost his wife, his son's love, everything. He lumbered back through the narrow hall, grabbing a bottle from the table in the kitchen, and lowered himself to the couch, the springs poking him in the back. He squirmed until the springs shifted and he found a tolerable position, his head resting on the arm of the furniture. He lifted the bottle to his lips and cherished the burn as it coursed down his throat. Soon enough the bottle slipped from limp fingers, amber liquid sloshing onto the carpet in a small puddle before laying still below the neck.

The moonlight highlighted the tense lines between the Winchester patriarch's eyes. "Mary!" John gasped, sitting up on the rough material of the couch. His breath came in heaves, half sobs, as he tried to fill his lungs. He still smelled the smoke, although the fire was more than a month past. He still felt the heat, felt the fire coming after him, trying to take him like it took Mary. He ran a hand down over his face, calloused fingers rasping over his week old growth of beard. He stood, wavering slightly as the alcohol settled into his brain.

"My boys. Need my boys." John muttered, walking down the hall, shoulder bumping the faded wallpaper. He turned the corner into the room his boys shared and stopped, watching quietly. Dean was curled around Sam, who was gurgling quietly, happily, fingers tangled in Dean's hair. Dean rubbed his cheek gently over the crown of Sam's head, small hand resting tenderly on little Sammy's chest. John had to strain to make out the soft whispers from his eldest's lips to his baby's ears.

"As long as we're together, we'll be alright. Promise." Dean closed his eyes and tucked Sam's head under his chin protectively. "I know you miss Mommy, Sammy. I do too. I miss her, bad." John looked in the corner of the room when a lump on the floor caught his eye. It was a dead rat.

Dean's promise to Sammy hit John hard and he turned silently away from the boys' room, tears coursing down his cheeks to meander through his stubble. He picked up the bottle, drained the liquid fire in one tip to his lips, not even breathing between gulps, and hurled it, smashing the glass off the window frame across the room. He flipped over the wobbly coffee table, stood and stalked across to the small kitchen, tipping the scarred table that was in the small house when they'd rented it, along with the two vinyl chairs with rusty metal legs, not caring that the continued noise would wake, and scare, his sons.

He heard a high pitched cry, like a squawk, which was quickly hushed. The fight left John and he stumbled into his bedroom, collapsing on the bare mattress. A minute later a loud snore quickly filled the room as John lay across the bed, boots still on and hanging off the side.

"What do I need to do?"

"Get him into the church and tie him up for starters. Rope soaked in Holy Water will work since I don't have enough ash."

"Ash?"

"From a fire that consumed the body of a murderer. Evil purified by flame. It's the only effective entrapment." Sam stirred again, enough that Lili turned the torch on him again. The creature gave a reedy moan, sounding like winter wind through barren trees, and the Darkness receded again, leaving Sam still. "We have to hurry."

Dean moved closer to Sam, Lili automatically compensating by lifting the flame and keeping Dean's shadow from covering the dark streaks in Sam's skin. Dean hefted his brother, Bobby gripping and lifting the young hunter's legs, and carried him to the church, stretching him out on top of the altar. He brushed Sam's hair back from his eyes, stopping briefly as Sam leaned into his touch and his eyes opened, pleading. "Help me." Sam mouthed, his eyes closing once more. Dean turned to Lili.

"I've gotta get the rope outta the car." Lili nodded, her black hair over her eyes as she took off her shoulder bag and set it on the table. Dean left the room, leaving the door ajar. Lili heard the squeak of the trunk hinges and the slam of the lid. Dean's footsteps closed in on the door and he came back in, a large coil of rope over his shoulder and a gallon water jug in his other hand. He poured the water into a marble basin. She watched him lay the coil of rope in the water. A minute later, rope dripping Holy Water onto the floor, Dean held the coil in his hands and gently began to position Sam so that he could be effectively tied down . Lili went to the altar and moved Sam's arms so that his wrists dangled off the edge. The rope was securely tied to Sam's limbs.

Lili began chanting as Dean wrapped the rope down under the altar and tied off Sam's other wrist, cutting the rope and moving to his ankles, leaving Sam spread eagle on the altar. Lili stepped forward and unbuttoned Sam's shirt, Dean watching closely. She pulled a small Jade handled knife from her boot and sliced through Sam's tee, baring his chest. She reached for a small clay bowl and pinched some of the contents between her fingers, sprinkling a fine gray dust on Sam's chest in a line down his breastbone. Sam's head tossed on the altar, mouth a tight line of pain, as his nostrils flared with each quick breath.

"What's happenin' to him?"

"The Darkness is starting to fight for control. Sam is probably regaining consciousness."

"Can't we sedate him or something? Make it so it doesn't hurt him." Dean asked, carding his fingers back through Sam's hair, offering comfort.

"It'll hurt him no matter what. I'm sorry Dean. It'll be hard on him, but the Darkness has to be stopped."

"So how do we stop it?"

"The same way my ancestors did. Burn it away."

"Burn it? What the hell are you talking about? Lili, you got this annoying habit of pissin' me off!"

"It's three parts. The banishing of the Darkness. First we summon it, then we trap it, then we use the fire to drive it out."

"Do you know this is gonna work?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Lili stared at Dean for a second before shifting her eyes to Sam, tied to the altar. "I pray to the spirits that it does." She said softly.

"Then let's do it."

Lili grabbed her bag and upended it on the smaller offering table, small bags of herbs falling out into a heap as a warm, spicy, slightly acidic smell flooded the room. Along with the herbs laid a dark gray clay mortar and pestle, and small ornate dagger, the handle made of bone and the blade chiseled purple Amethyst. Dean saw the blade shining brightly in the room lighting, the translucent stone looking like purple glass and grabbed for it, whirling on Lili, the tiny three inch knife dwarfed in his palm and his eyes glinting.

"Just what the hell do you plan to do with this?"

"Feel the edge, Dean. It is so sharp that it won't scar badly. The dagger was placed in my hands by my ancestors as part of the knowledge of the ritual."

"You ain't cutting Sam!"

"Hopefully the Darkness doesn't have a hold on him to that point." Lili said, reaching for a bag of herbs and the mortar. She opened the bag, the smell of Lavender reaching Dean's nose. Lili pinched some of the small dried flowers and placed them in the bowl, quickly grinding them to dust. She added gray powder from another bag, along with what looked like rosemary and some kind of oil which formed a paste as she worked the stone pestle along the inside of the bowl.

Thunder rolled across the sky outside, rattling the glass in the sconces that were attached to the walls of the room. Lili scowled, her face darkening as Sam's harsh breathing filled the room in the sudden silence.

"We need to fortify this place. I think the Darkness is close. He senses it."

"So tell us what t'do." Bobby replied.

"Salt the windows and doors." She pulled a bundle of herbs from the pile on the offering table and handed them to the older hunter. "Mugwort. Grind it and mix it with the salt. It calls on guardian spirits to surround the place within the lines. Each time you lay a line say 'Davopre'. Means 'I give upwards.'"

"What about Sam?" Dean asked when Bobby handed him half the bundle.

Lili dipped a finger in the paste she'd formed and drew a circle around the gray dust on Sam's chest. He bucked, moaning, then fell still. "He'll stay unconscious."

Bobby nodded and herded Dean towards the door, with Dean glancing over his shoulder at Sam's unmoving form one last time. Lili turned back towards the herbs and her clay bowl, mixing more paste, soft voice blessing the concoction. Lightening flashed and she glanced at the stone window frames and their brightly colored glass. The windows had a single block layer of clear glass, framed by lead soldier between the stone and the outer ring of the stained glass pattern. A shadow moved outside the window and caught Lili's eye, seconds before the chapel door burst in in a shower of wood and stained glass.

A/N: Oops, sorry about the cliffie but I just had to do it. I missed that most about writing. I'm not off work again until mid week next week, but I have a couple early shifts so I might see about posting if enough of you are still interested in reading. Leave a review!