Tromping into the woods with Nathan was nothing like going in with Dean. Nathan knew he stuff. Went prepared. Took a backpack, compass, map. He had hiking boots and a Swiss army knife and a bunch of stuff Sam didn't see the use of, but that Nathan had told him were basic survival needs.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Sam had asked as Nathan had checked over his gear. "Didn't you grow up in a mansion?"

Nathan had given him a look. "Scouts. Rachel and I were in them all our lives. Plus, we went camping all the time. Just because we live in a castle, doesn't mean we don't pretend we're peasants sometimes."

Touche.

In addition to the camping gear, he packed a machete, a revolver, and a mess of other demon slaying accouterments.

"The troll's dead, you know," Sam had said.

All he got was a look. A serious, dark-eyed, thin-mouth look.

It was frighteningly like the type of look Rachel gave Dean when she felt he was screwing around too much on the job. Sam had always been secretly glad she'd never looked at him like that. It was discomforting to be on the end now.

Luckily, once they had begun their trek to the troll's cave, Nathan had loosened up a bit. The black cloud around him faded and he loosened up. He even spoke a couple times and, once, while they were taking a break, Sam caught Nathan checking out his ass. It wasn't something Sam particularly wanted from the other man, but at least he was in a good enough mood to revert to flirty form.

Sam had done this trek before. About two weeks ago, he and Dean had followed this same path. It'd been horrible. From the moment they'd first realized Rachel had been missing, Dean had been a man possessed. No jokes, no sarcastic remarks. Nothing but dark eyes and a darker face. Driven. They'd torn through the forest at a furious pace, crashing through the bushes with a single minded intensity that had frightened Sam.

He'd always hoped that, one day, Dean would find someone that he could be happy with. He'd just never considered what would happen if Dean lost her.

At least Rachel was back now. Even if she didn't have her mind, she was still the same person. Dean would bring her back. Sam didn't need to be there. He was in their lives enough, as it was. Dean and Rachel had been married for months now, and they hadn't had a night alone since they'd officially gotten together. They deserved time to themselves.

Nathan stopped and pulled out the map. "You were here before, right?"

"Yeah." He took the water bottle Nathan offered and took a swig. "We're almost there. I think maybe another half mile or something."

He nodded and looked off into the distance. Nathan was leaning against a tree, the midmorning light shining off his sweaty face. "Do you think the lamps we brought will shed enough light?"

"Yeah, I think so. Those emergency lanterns are pretty bright. But, really, there's nothing there to see. Dean and I swept the place, and there was nothing."

"Nothing? Not evidence of the troll?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted. "Its bed was there. Some branches. Muddy footprints. Hair, that sort of thing."

"What about body parts from the kids it killed?"

He frowned. "Now that you mention it… no. That's weird. There should have been."

Nathan nodded. "I mean, I'd be willing to let the body parts slide. Maybe Rachel found the cave empty except for the dead kids. Decided to salt and burn the them to prevent them from haunting. But that doesn't explain why there's no troll."

"Unless she killed the troll and then was snatched."

"Maybe. But there still should have been evidence. If not a carcass, then a pyre. Ashes. Whatever. If she burned the troll, I don't know." Nathan took a drink of water, then slid the bottle back into his bag. "God. I hate not knowing."

Sam could just nod. "We'll figure it out. Even if we don't find anything here, I mean… there are other places to look."

"Other place to look," Nathan corrected, giving him a crooked smile. "And I'm not all that eager to rush to the place where my sister was…" He swallowed. "Uh. Held captive." Nathan fell silent and looked down. Rubbed the back of his neck.

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of birds crying overhead.

Sam cleared his throat. "Maybe we can skip that. We know for a fact her stuff isn't there."

"Yeah, well. We'll see." He rubbed his eyes. "Besides, I'd love to get you alone in a romantic cabin."

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Well. Let's go."

"Ah, did I make you uncomfortable?" Nathan sidled next to Sam, close enough that their arms were pressed together.

He flushed. "No." He took a step away, but Nathan just followed him.

"Come on. When you were a little kid, didn't you hold hands with your best friend on the playground?" He grabbed at Sam's hand.

Sam pulled it out of his grasp. "I thought only girls did that."

"I've seen boys do it. Preschool, kindergarten. But they do."

"I didn't."

"Then now's the time." He took Sam's hand again.

This time, he sighed. "You know I'm straight."

"So was my last boyfriend. Got him to see things differently." He grinned up at Sam, eyes twinkling.

"Are you bipolar?" he couldn't help asking. The mood shift was just so abrupt.

Nathan just rolled his eyes. "Rachel's safe. I can't stay worried and upset all the time. And this distracts me." He squeezed Sam's hand and then dropped it.

The absence made his palm feel abruptly cold. He pushed the feeling away and nodded at a familiar marking on a tree. "Turn there. We're almost to the cave."

The cave was just about as Sam had remembered it. Dark, craggy, foreboding. In front of it were scraggy bushes, now torn up by the local authorities he and Dean had reluctantly called in when they realized they'd lost Rachel. Grass was tramped down, mud flung all over. Police tape hung lamely across the opening.

Nathan tore it down as he entered the dimly lit cave. Stood there a moment, eyes searching. Taking deep breaths. He looked almost as if he were meditating, searching. Something. Slow, deep breathing, head tilted back. Listening.

Sam stood at the opening, not wanting to interrupt. When he and Dean had been there, they'd never been still. Dean had rushed in, flashlight blazing, shouting Rachel's name. And when it was obvious she wasn't there, he'd fallen into a dark, angry silence. Torn around, looking for any trace of her. Tearing everything apart, looking.

But there'd been nothing.

Now he had to watch Nathan go through this. Sort of. At least Nathan knew the ending. Dean's despair had been heart wrenching to watch.

And he wasn't the only one who loved Rachel. She was Sam's family, too. His sister, not by birth, not quite legally, but sister nonetheless. Despite the demon playing with his emotions, he didn't lust after her. Wasn't in love with her. But he did love her, and he'd been terrified when she was missing.

Nathan set his backpack down. Knelt next to it.

"Stinks in here," he remarked as he unzipped his pack.

"Well. Things died. Bloodily."

"Yeah. Way negative energy." He pulled a necklace out of his shirt and gripped the charm. "This thing is buzzing like crazy. Something supernatural was here, and I'm not talking about the troll. Trolls don't give off this kind of energy."

Sam moved closer to Nathan and crouched next to him. "Is that the same kind of necklace Rachel has?"

He nodded. "Gift from our grandfather. Warns us of things that don't sit comfortably in our world."

"I set that thing off."

"Big time." He looked up at Sam. "Actually, the only difference between what I'm sensing from the charm in here and when it was just you is the magnitude."

"What do you mean?"

"You're connected to whatever was in here somehow. But, then, we knew that, right? The demon is connected with you."

He frowned. "Are you saying I have the same kind of powers as the demon?"

Nathan shrugged. "Maybe. You're not a mind reader, but you have prophetic dreams, right?"

"Sometimes."

"Rach said that some of the others that you've found, they have other powers. And that you've moved things with your mind before?"

"Just once. Under extreme duress, I might add." Sam licked his lips. "Why do I have these powers? What does the demon have to do with me?"

Nathan shook his head. "I don't know. It would really help if we knew what demon this was. Who he is. Then maybe we can figure out what he wants with you." He pulled out a flashlight. "Okay, so… bed back there?"

"Yeah."

Nathan disappeared into the darkness. Sam followed, knowing what they'd find. A bed of mud and dirt and rotting leaves. Of decaying animal fur and branches.

"Gross." Nathan kicked at a branch. It's rotted wood gave way with a wet snap. "I hate this part." He crouched by the bed. Picked up a stick and began poking through the layers of the bed.

The smell grew with each Nathan unearthed. Sam breathed through his mouth, then was forced to cover his nose with his shirt. The bed looked years old, each older and more decayed than the last. Bones, pellets, and insects spilled out as Nathan poked.

Finally, he stood. "Okay, screw this. It's disgusting. And there's nothing here."

"Thank you," Sam said, following Nathan back into the front of the cave. "That thing needs to be torched."

"We can, if you want. I'm doing a cleansing ritual before we go. It won't get rid of the smell or decay or anything, so we can do that after."

"Cleansing ritual?"

Nathan shrugged. "I don't think any souls are hanging around here. But, a lot of bad stuff was done in here. Kids died. I want to get it back into harmony, you know?"

Sam shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. "You do spells?"

"I'm Wiccan."

"Oh." He shifted, uncomfortable. Watched as Nathan lowered himself to the floor of the cave and began slowly crawling across it, examining it closely.

He didn't have much experience with Wiccans. Witches, yeah. Some. They were always bad news, in his experience. Trying to raise demons or hex people or bring about destruction. All bad.

However. He was enlightened enough to know that Wiccans weren't necessarily evil. And Nathan didn't seem evil, like, at all. Flaky and flirty and odd, but not evil. And how bad could a cleansing spell be?

"Hey. Look." Nathan pushed some moss and leaves aside.

There was a deep crack in the stone floor. Not very long, but wide enough for Nathan to stick his hand in. And have trouble getting it out.

"It's greasy."

Sam got on the ground next to Nathan. "What do you mean?" He slid his fingers inside. Crinkled his nose. "It is. "

Nathan had his to his nose. "It smells kind of like Crisco." He lay flat on the ground. Shone his light into the crack and peered inside. "Look. Is that blood?"

"Looks like it. And on the sides, too." He felt along the dirt and Crisco coated sides of the crack. Moved his hand away and looked at the dark streaks of dried, coppery blood on the bottom and sides.

"Rachel had a sprained ankle, right?" Nathan looked up at Sam. A hank of hair fell over his pale forehead, covering his eyes.

Sam had the strange urge to bush it away. Maybe Nathan had done some kind of mojo on him. Maybe he was one of the bad witches.

"Yeah. She did." He looked down at the crack. "Could that really fit her foot?"

"If a troll forced it in? Yeah, probably. Not just her, I imagine. Any time it had an excess of food, it could hold something by trapping their leg." He sat up onto his heels. "So, she was caught by the troll. Maybe with a kid or something."

"That would make sense. She wasn't going to go after it on her own. She called us before she came out, saying she was going to do a spell that would warn people to stay away. But, if she saw the troll had another victim, she might have decided to go after it herself."

Nathan rubbed his hand over his forehead, leaving muddy streaks. "Did she have a weapon?"

"A machete and a shotgun."

He nodded. "So, she's here. Trapped. Foot stuck. And a demon comes and yanks it out using Crisco?"

"Seems a little… off," Sam said.

"A little." Nathan licked his lower lip. "But the demon was here. Its presence is all over the place." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Unless it wasn't the demon who rescued her."

"But you just said…."

"I said that the same kind of energy that you give off is resonating in here. It might not be the same demon. Same type of demon, yeah, but… you know."

"So, one demon comes in and gently gets Rachel's foot free, and the other takes her to a remote cabin and rapes her?"

Nathan blanched. Swallowed. "Um. Maybe?"

Well, fuck. That was way insensitive. Sam chalked it up to all the talk about the demon. And having similar energy as the demon.

"Sorry," he said gruffly.

"No problem." Nathan rubbed his face again, smearing more dirt across it. "Look. Let's just… keep looking. At the very least, we're going to have to find the bones and stuff of the kids and burn them. You and Dean didn't, right?"

Sam shook his head. "We were distracted."

"Not judging. Let's go."

They spent the next hour exploring every inch of the cave. Together, they swept the floor clean of debris and piled it outside. Once cleared, they both crawled on the floor again, searching for… anything. Signs, clues, anything.

They did find some things. Strands of Rachel's hair. A few barrettes and ribbons. Buttons and the ends of shoelaces. But no bones, no entrails, nothing human or fleshy. There were a few animal remains that they added to the "to burn" pile, but nothing human.

"Trolls aren't the cleanest creatures. They keep their nests pretty foul," Sam said. "So, where are the kids?"

Nathan shrugged. "Let's look outside."

There was a clearing not too far from the cave. Side by side, they tromped over the crap piled outside, over flattened grass, to the clearing. Nathan stopped once, crouching in the grass. Pushing aside some of the leaves that had settled on the mud, he revealed two sets of footprints: one pair of heavy boots, and one bare foot.

"Rachel would insist on walking even if her ankle was sprained," Nathan muttered.

"And the demon wouldn't just carry her?" Sam asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "The demon should just be able to transport her anywhere he wanted. If he's as powerful as you say, they wouldn't have even had to walk out here, right?" He rose. Wiped his hands on his jeans and continued walking to the clearing.

In the clearing was the remnants of a fire. Charred bone, salt, the whole nine yards.

Nathan looked up at Sam. "What kind of demon ensures that souls don't rise before whisking a girl off to terrorize her for two weeks?"

Sam had no answer.