A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! I actually had Chapter Six ready to be updated, but once I started to reread it…I realized that it was really crappy and decided to delete the whole thing and start over. So FINALLY here it is. I've really been enjoying Supernatural and its newest episodes!

Reviews/Comments appreciated – enjoy!

O.O.O.O.O.O.

Chapter Six - Nuisances

"Ya know what – DAMN VISIONS! DAMN THIS ESP CRAP! DAMN IT ALL!" Amy threw her hands in a frustrated way as she watched poor Sam apply an ice pack to his head.

After several small white Tylenol pills, herbal tea, and the ice pack, Sam felt instant relief in his head.

Until Amy began to throw her tantrum.

"I mean…" she spat angrily but couldn't find the words to continue.

Sam, looking less miserable, stared up at her from the couch and smiled weakly. "I'm okay."

"Ppplease," Dean asked as he came out of the kitchen with a glass of ice water. "Calm down."

"Calm down!" Amy laughed. "Are you kidding me! It's such a nuisance! Every time Sammy has one of these visions-"

"Sam…" Sam corrected underneath his breath.

Amy continued: "-He gets these killer headaches! One day his skull is just going to crack or something – if we ever get to meet that certain someone who allowed people to be psychics – I'm gonna ram their head into the wall over and over and over and ov-"

Dean rested a hand on her shoulder as he gave his brother the glass of water. Sam took it slowly and once again tried to give a convincing smile to Amy that he was fine.

Isabella stood in the center of the living room with her arms crossed over her chest.

"So do all psychics have to deal with this?" she asked sadly, staring at Sam.

"Yeah," Sam explained poorly. "Well…at first anyway. Amy dealt with it too. She still does…sometimes…" He swallowed the ice water in greater gulps. "It's getting better, though."

"Well, you're not dead, so that's a good sign," Dean remarked. Sam nodded.

"This is not funny," Amy crooned. "Have you guys even tried to figure out what's going on with all of this? Have you spent the last four months just killing things?"

Sam and Dean both looked at each other like young boys who had accidentally broken a vase or something.

Amy put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Visions…special feelings…the ability to stretch your mind out…telekinesis…AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN CARED ABOUT INVESTIGATING THIS!"

The broken-vase look came back.

She rubbed her hands together and nodded to herself as if answering a mental question. "Okay. When we meet Ms. Forrester…maybe she can finally answer some questions. Now. What did you see?"

Sam felt three pairs of eyes on him. It was an awkward feeling. It felt like trying to describe a long foreign movie to them.

"I saw…" Sam narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. "I saw Isabella's accident." He gave her a sad smile. "I saw you in the car…and you standing outside of the car…" He took a deep breath when he explained: "There was this thing…sitting on top of the car. A black figure. I could tell it was a person. Maybe. But it had arms and legs and a head and it was looking at Isabella's body in the car – and out of the car…"

Isabella looked terrified. She took a step back, her legs going through the center table again.

"What was it?" Amy asked slowly.

Sam shrugged. "A spirit, maybe?"

"Grim?" Dean asked, remembering his own experience with the thing.

"No." Sam swallowed within his dry throat and drank more water. "I knew it wasn't the Grim. But…it was just there…looking down at Isabella's body…and her, well, spirit I guess…"

"Does this make any sense?" Amy asked Isabella gently.

"Sense?" Isabella choked out. "None of this makes sense! I should be dead or alive or at least in my body but nooo – look at me!"

Amy watched her friend sadly as Isabella placed a nervous set of hands on her hips.

Dean turned back to his brother and asked, "Any other description?"

"Just a black, cloudy-type figure. A man-like blob. Or woman-like…" Sam tried.

"Gggreat," Dean rolled his eyes. "What's the use of these visions if they don't do a damn thing?" He scratched the back of his head.

"Okay," Amy thought. "Maybe research should be started a bit earlier this morning. We should go get Ms. Forrester now-"

"Amy…" Sam said firmly. "Dean and I will stay here and research. You need to get to work."

"Sam, I can't," Amy explained. "Not with you and Isabella like-…I can't just leave."

"You got in trouble once before for skipping work for this sort of thing…" Dean reminded. "Just go. You'll be back soon. We'll take care of things."

Amy wanted to protest but the look Dean gave her silenced her. She nodded slowly and turned to Sam and gave him a small half-grin. "Take care, kiddo. Okay? Help yourself to all the Tylenol and sleeping pills you want."

He laughed. Sam nodded and suggested, "Get to work."

Dean placed a comforting hand on her back and soothed, "It'll be okay. Now hurry up. Don't be late for school."

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean came out of the guestroom finishing buttoning up his navy shirt. He walked into the living room and spotted Sam on the pull-out bed, fully dressed, and typing-and-clicking away at the computer. Their father's journal sat beside him on the bed.

"Anything?" Dean asked.

"Not really…" Sam sighed. "More astral projection stuff. Nothing really matches my 'smoky-person' search. Maybe a spirit?"

"Maybe…" Dean thought. "It could have caused the accident. Maybe a gremlin – those little things like to cause a lot of trouble."

"Doesn't fit my black-figure vision," Sam thought. "Maybe a chaos demon of some sort. Every country has 'em. Maybe this one in particular causes car accidents."

"Demons do like to start one hell of a party…remember the phantom with the airplane?" Dean remembered – not only the demon but the terrifying experience in the plane. He shook off the fearful shiver and Dean noted, "We're never going on a plane again."

Sam scoffed and laughed and continued down his list of possibilities. "Still…whatever it is…we need to figure out why Isabella is not in her body."

"Maybe it's a double case of both chaos demon and astral projection," Dean suggested.

"Maybe…" Sam narrowed his eyes. "But why only a select few can see her? And psychics…most cases of real astral projection have been witnessed by non-psychics…"

Sam reached for his father's journal and flipped through a saved page. "Here…in 1912…there was this guy…Marvin…Marvin the Magnificent Magician…he claimed to be able to go to sleep and jump out of his body. People thought he was nuts…but then he would go to sleep and when he woke up…he could give really detailed information of what people did or what they were doing…

"Then one day…Marvin's body is found in bed…no one can wake him up…people think he's dead so they prepare a funeral…" Sam skimmed through and continued. "Marvin's niece, Elizabeth Rita, a twelve-year-old girl, claimed she could see her uncle and he was begging that the people do not bury his body. After the funeral…though…the little girl claimed that her uncle just disappeared…she was claimed just as insane as he apparently was…" Sam finished.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Elizabeth could have been psychic…"

"Maybe…" Sam shook his head. "And maybe Isabella did – in fear – jump out of her subconscious…I guess that's one thing we'll have to figure out later…"

"We need to focus on that thing you saw in the vision," Dean nodded. "Hey, where's Isabella?"

"On the balcony…"

"I think I'm gonna head out," Dean explained plainly. "Head to the local library. Check out archives. I want to see if this sort of thing has happened before – maybe find some related articles – after all, Illinois does seem to be a pretty good hot spot for this sort of thing to happen."

Sam nodded. "That's actually a good idea."

"You comin' with?" Dean asked as he pulled out the car keys from his pockets.

"Yeah," Sam sighed as he began to turn off the computer. "Let's tell Isabella."

Dean left Sam behind as he took it upon himself to tell Isabella they were leaving. The twenty-six-year-old expected to find the young woman sulking outside on the balcony, but found no one.

He poked his head outside and then back in the apartment. "Hey, she's not here."

Sam turned his head and his eyes looked around the whole apartment. "Isabella?" It was almost as if he were talking to the ceiling.

"Probably off checkin' on family," Dean reminded. "Leave a note. Lets go."

O.O.O.O.O.O.

Amy & Isabella,

Off to find a library to research more on this case.

We have our cells.

-Sam and Dean

"Question." Dean murmured as Sam closed the door to Amy's apartment behind them. The young twenty-two-year-old had the sleeves of his blue-checkered shirt rolled up since the weather seemed to be warming up a bit. Sam met his brother's gaze as Dean continued: "Why does your name get to go first?"

"What?" Sam laughed as he and Dean trotted down the steps of the building.

"The note, for Amy," Dean replied. "It said 'Sam and Dean'…your name went first."

"And?"

"Well…it's Batman and Robin…not Robin and Batman."

"Are you trying to say you're Batman and I'm Robin?"

"In a way."

"You're an idiot."

"Seriously," Dean explained as they made their way to the black Impala. "I'm the oldest. The cutest-"

"I'm taller and smarter," Sam remarked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm Batman."

"Like hell I'm Robin," Sam protested as he opened the car door.

"You look very cute in tights, though."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Dean and Sam got into the car at the same time. Dean started the car while Sam laughed to himself and shook his head. "What kind of conversation were we having?"

The older brother shrugged and remarked, "Not sure. So, off to library?"

As the Chevy Impala took its way across the apartment parking lot, Metallica blasted through the speakers.

O.O.O.O.O.O.

9:30 A.M….

Amy sat in her office as she tore her eyes away from the digital clock on the corner of her desk. On the other corner of the cherry wood desk sat a small picture with a black frame. The photograph contained the image of three young teens: two sixteen-year-olds (Dean and Amy) and a young twelve-year-old (Sam). Dean had his arm casually around Amy's shoulder as her hand rested on Sam's shoulder – even then, Sam was taller than her.

She couldn't help but glance at the picture. Due to her recent blast to the past, Amy scrimmaged around her belongings and was able to find several old pictures and objects from her beloved past. A smile crossed her face as she studied the picture once more.

When she should have been in class, Amy was grateful that her student aid was monitoring the students while they wrote their timed essays. Amy had been able to get away to her own office to quickly get study guides already printed and prepared for the students.

She gathered up two different sets of folders when the door slowly opened and a familiar face popped in.

"Professor," Amy greeted warmly.

Professor Saton, skin still fair and hair still white, stepped inside as his glasses fell on the tip of his nose. He wore a comfortable milky white shirt and beige pants. The old man smiled and greeted in a fatherly-British accent: "Good day, my dear. How are you?"

"Alright," Amy admitted slowly. "Just gotta run off to class and get these study guides to the students."

"Oh, forgive me-" he was ready to apologize for interrupting her when Amy held her hand up to him.

"It's alright, Ian," Amy laughed. "I can spare a minute or ten for you."

The old man chuckled and sat down in the black leather seat before her. Amy rested the folders back down on the desk and rested her hands in her lap.

"What can I do for you?" Amy narrowed her eyes at her friend.

Professor Saton rested his hands in his lap and shifted his weight to make himself more comfortable.

"I feel I should give you warning about something…" he admitted secretly.

Interest grew within Amy. Did it have something to do with the new art professor in the school?

"Do tell…"

"There's a reporter coming to see you today-"

"Wait," Amy interrupted nicely. "My interview? That's not for another two weeks? That magazine-"

"Yes," Professor Saton smiled. "Apparently…the word down the grape vine is that the interview has been pushed a little ahead of time…"

"Great," Amy sighed. "I have friends in town. And a friend…in need…I don't have time for this-"

"There's more," the British man whispered. He was more serious now. "There have been a few interesting rumors going on about you lately…"

"Rumors?" Amy gasped. "What on earth?"

The professor leaned in close as if someone were listening through the closed door.

"Apparently there has been one reporter who has taken an interest in you…" he explained softly. "Ever since the attack made on me on campus…and what happened at the pool last year…"

Natiskawa…

Amy shook her head and blinked several times. "I'm being investigated?"

This has got to be a joke…

He nodded. "Someone has taken an interest in you. Apparently they thought it was quite odd…and I didn't help either…I went to the hospital that night and told the police exactly what I heard from that man who attacked me and how he confessed about kidnapping children…but anyway…someone has made a connection and they've also learned a few other things about you…"

"Such as?" Amy inquired.

He almost looked guilty for a minute. "This reporter believes you have some type of odd hobby…"

"Odd-"

"Paranormal…" Professor Saton whispered.

A heart attack. That must have been it. It explained the burning and redness in her cheeks and the small bead of sweat that appeared on her forehead. Her heart was racing…blood pumping…

"How do you know-" Amy asked but the professor intended to continue his confession.

"Forgive me Amy," Professor Saton sighed. "This reporter happens to be my nephew."

He felt incredibly guilty for some reason. Amy could feel this instantly. She felt sorry for him.

"It's okay…" Amy soothed. "Please…just, explain…"

"His name is Carter Lynn," Professor Saton explained. "Twenty-eight. Good-looking lad. Good head on his shoulders. His morals can get a little mixed up though…" He sighed and rubbed his hands together. "He came to me last week and asked many questions about you. I inquired why and he explained that he's been keeping tabs on you."

"Tabs!" Amy exclaimed.

He nodded sadly. "Forgive me, Amy…he's been doing a bit of dirty work to acquire the type of books you've been borrowing from the library. He's wondered why you've missed so many days from work…he…" The professor almost looked ashamed to admit it. "He told me he followed you somewhere…to some type of…psychic convention."

Amy rested her hand around the back of her neck. The "psychic convention" had been a large gathering of those who claimed to have some relation to ESP. She had attended that festivity in January.

"Wow…" Amy raised her eyebrows.

"I wanted to tell you…but he's family…but now I realize…" Professor Saton smiled weakly. "I just wanted you to know. And please be prepared. He can be…Carter has always been the Johnny-on-the-spot sort of person. He gets what he wants – and he wants a story. A good one."

"Thank you," Amy said warmly. "Thank you for telling me. No worries. I'll be ready."

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean and Sam were both sitting at a white table in the library. Several large books of past articles were placed before them as their eyes scanned various articles.

"Okay…." Dean murmured as he spoke into his cell phone. His eyes looked into the book but he was more focused on the conversation. "You're being investigated?"

Sam pulled his eyes away from the book and stared intently at his brother. He could hear Amy's voice mumble through the phone.

Dean nodded to himself and said, "Yeah. Don't worry. Okay…" He pulled aside a piece of paper and a pen and began to write something down. Sam noticed it was becoming an address.

"Alright. Give us a call and hopefully we can meet at the hospital together. Yeah…good luck," Dean laughed. "Alright, bye."

The conversation ended and Dean put the phone back in his pocket.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

The older brother sighed and said, "Some reporter has an interest in Amy – apparently he's figured out that she's into the whole supernatural-thing. She's a bit worried-"

"Obviously, her career is on the line."

"She's not worried about that," Dean explained as he went back to the book. "She just doesn't want another nuisance. She wants us to go see Ms. Forrester in half an hour or so. We'll probably meet her at the hospital."

Sam nodded. "Alright. I have a good feeling we're not going to learn anything interesting until we see that woman. Let's rap things up now."

Agreeing silently, Dean began to pile the books on one another. Sam did the same when he met eyes with Dean and asked, "Have you talked to Dad yet?"

There was a moment when Dean almost flinched. "Not yet Sammy."

"Sam," Sam corrected with a heavy sigh. "Anyway, do you think he's okay? We haven't talked since-"

"Sam, I know," Dean said quickly. "He's fine. Don't worry. We'll meet up again."

"I hope so…" Sam whispered as he finished gathering the books on the table.

Dean and Sam stood up together and gathered the books in their arms. Sam was about to walk around the table when he stopped in his steps.

Books fell to the floor and Sam was suddenly touching the sides of his temple.

Not again…Sam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes…

He could see Isabella. But it wasn't her 'spirit' form. She was lying in a hospital bed. Her pretty face was still pale – she was still in the coma.

Two figures – Isabella's mother and step father – could be made out in the corner of the room talking to a doctor.

But there was one figure standing beside Isabella…

The same black figure. It lingered over her and paced beside the bed. The creature or being made some type of hissing noise. It continued to pace beside Isabella's unconscious body until the thing stopped and looked directly at Sam.

He realized he was standing in the room. No one else could see him. This was his vision, after all. He was only meant to see this. But he was seen…by that black-cloudy figure…

The hissing the creature made increased and it became faster and louder. It was angry…

Sam's eyes shot opened and he could feel Dean's strong arm around his shoulders to keep him balanced. Luckily Sam had not fallen onto his knees or collapsed. No one in the library even noticed what had happened.

There was pain, but not enough for Sam to want an ice pack. He rubbed his eyes and groaned slightly as he took in a fresh, deep breath.

Dean looked around and realized no one had seen what had just happened. He leaned closer toward Sam and asked, "You okay? What did you see?"

Sam gritted his teeth as he rubbed the side of his head. "Let's go see Ms. Forrester."

O.O.O.O.O.O.