A/N: It's been quite a while since I've updated, and for that I apologise. Hope you guys are still interested in finding out what happens to Sam, Dean and Bobby! I'll make this short; just want to say thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, including those who I can't reply to. You guys are just fantastic. Special thanks to my beta, The Tribble Master, who I dedicate this chapter to because she's just awesome. So, onwards and upwards!

Previously on:

"Hey, slow down tiger," Dean said, sitting up. "Stop a coven of witches? You and what army?"

"Witches. I hate witches," he mumbled sleepily.

"Why?"

"Just this hunt in Ohio with a witch… didn't go that well."

"Did you kill the witch?"

"No. She got away."

And now…

"They want me to find them. Last time they tried to scare us, that's why they weren't there. But they will be this time."

Without further hesitation:

Chapter 9

The two cars pulled up in front of the house. Two young men stepped out of the first car, each one glancing anxiously at each other as they observed the house in front of them. A third older man stepped out of the second car. He joined the other two in front of the house, gazing up at it.

"This is it, boys," Bobby said. They were once again at Fiona Kirrans' house, only this time it was all of them, not just Sam. The three stood awkwardly at the front door.

"Do we knock?" Sam finally asked. Dean merely rolled his eyes before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. The three men traipsed into the house, tense and expecting an attack at any moment. They parted company, with Dean and Sam following one hallway while Bobby went to explore the other. Dean's eyes trailed along the walls, which contained various pictures of 'Fiona' during her life. He swallowed as his eyes passed over one taken a few years previously, showing Fiona with another woman. It was her. She was in the picture with Fiona.

"What is it?" A voice said at Dean's shoulder, making him start.

"Dude!"

"Sorry. But what's wrong? Is it something in the pictures?"

Dean raised a hand and pointed at the picture. Sam's eyes followed, then widened.

"Is that her? The witch from Ohio?"

Dean nodded.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

"You took your time," a voice said from behind them. Sam and Dean whirled around to see Fiona from the pictures standing behind them. Her outstretched hand was raised in the direction of Bobby, who was currently being held against the wall by an invisible force.

"Let him go!" Dean said angrily, advancing on Fiona. Sam placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. The witch laughed coldly at the action.

"Oh, does wee little Dean need his younger brother to protect him?" She asked mockingly and her hand moved forward slightly. A groan unwillingly left Bobby's mouth as he was pushed into the wall with more force. Dean growled.

"You leave Bobby and my brother out of this. This is between me and her. Not you. Not them." Dean replied coldly, green eyes glaring at her.

"Oh, that's not very likely to happen, sweetheart," she said with a smirk "You see, by yourself you're no fun. You're so selfless and pathetic that you hardly care about yourself. But your family- you would fight tooth and nail to keep your family safe and alive wouldn't you Dean?" She finished suggestively, the smirk growing wider.

Sam swallowed as the words left her red lips. The thing that upset him the most was that the witch spoke the truth. Beside him, Dean stood unmoving, glaring at her.

"Well, you can see the problem here. We need Bobby and dear Sammy here if we want to have fun with you." As she finished, her other hand raised and Sam found himself flying into a nearby wall with a crash. His head pounded against the wall, leaving him feeling nauseous and dizzy. Through a haze, he could see Dean staring at him, eyes wide and angry.

"Leave him alone!" He yelled at Fiona as he ran towards her. Unfortunately for her both her hands were in use and she could not defend herself in time. Dean crashed into her, knocking her to her feet and breaking the spell that had kept Sam and Bobby to the wall. The two fell down, neither landing very gracefully. Sam leapt to his feet to witness Dean and Fiona wrestling on the floor. Despite Dean's obvious strength, the witch still had the upper hand. She was chanting something, and as Sam watched, Dean's eyelids began to droop until only slits of green could be seen. Fiona let go of his shirt and his upper body fell to the ground with a soft thud, eyes completely closed and face lax.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, attempting to run towards the still figure of his brother. An invisible force stopped him, holding him back. Fiona had risen from the floor, looking much less certain of herself. She began to chant to herself again, hands still raised to prevent both Sam and Bobby from moving. Sam spared a glance at Bobby, who looked worriedly back. The room began to grow cold as the colours began to fade. Sam looked uncertainly at the previously cream walls, which were now made of grey stone.

"Sam," a low voice whispered. Sam turned back to where his brother lay, still on the floor. His eyes were half closed; one would think he had just woken up from a long nap. "Sam." Dean said again, but this time his eyes flickered behind Sam. Sam apprehensively turned around to find a woman standing behind him wearing a long black cloak.

"Bobby!" Sam yelled in warning, but it was too late. An enraged roar filled the room as Bobby was dragged unwillingly to a nearby room. Sam felt a pair of strong hands grab his own arms and drag him away. He struggled against them, but they were like steel. As he was being dragged away, Dean's eyes followed him, the green flashing in the dark light. Don't worry, Dean's eyes seemed to say. Sam managed to return his pretentious look of I'm not worrying before he too was thrown into the room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It must have been hours they spent in the room. Sam paced angrily, Bobby sat despondently. There was no way out of the room; they had checked. Now all they could do was wait for the witches' decisions.

Sam let out a breath of air as he reached the end of the small room yet again. He turned around to face the other way and began pacing. Again. Bobby let out a huff or irritation as Sam passed him.

"Do you ever get tired of pacing?" Bobby finally asked. Sam looked at him.

"No."

"Should have known. Even as a kid, you would always pace. Walk up and down my house waiting for your dad or Dean to come back. Made a hole in my favourite rug, you know that?"

Sam wasn't sure if Bobby was joking or not, and he didn't really care at that moment.

"What's happening, Bobby? What could they do to him?"

Bobby's gaze lifted to Sam's eyes and Sam felt a thrill of horror run down his back at the haunted look.

"What couldn't they do, Sam?" Bobby asked, and Sam felt his heart speed up again. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who had been wondering about the fate of Dean.

A sudden creak turned both men's attention towards the now slightly ajar door. Sam and Bobby exchanged a glance before walking out of the room.

It seemed the room had somehow changed location while they were inside. There was now only one corridor leading from the door, giving Sam and Bobby no choice but to follow it. Sam led the way, his footsteps echoing slightly in the passage. At the end was another door, a wooden one with a large brass handle. Sam raised an eyebrow at Bobby, who shrugged in response. With a gulp, Sam pushed the door open.

The room in front of him was dark and cold. A chill ran through Sam's body at the sudden change in temperature. What caught his attention however was not the room, but what it contained. For against the far wall, hands tied in ropes and attached to the wall, stood Dean. His eyes were slightly open, a pair of gleaming green in the darkness. They flickered at Sam and Bobby's footsteps until they were directed at Sam.

"Sammy?" A hoarse voice called out.

"Dean." Sam said simply, relieved that his brother was still alive. He walked quickly, closely followed by Bobby who kept a watch for any witches. As Sam reached Dean, he realised just how bad a state Dean was in. He was tied to the wall, hanging by his arms with his feet just barely touching the floor. His wrists were red and bruised from the ropes. His shirt, originally a dark green, was now bloody. Dean himself looked exhausted. His eyes were drooping, and his face was pale in stark contrast to his freckles. He gazed up at Sam, who felt uncertain just how long they had been kept prisoner. Had it only been a few hours? Dean looked like he had been held prisoner for much longer.

"S'mmy." Dean said again, eyes gazing at his younger brother.

"Hey Dean," Sam said quietly with a small smile. He grabbed a pen knife from his pocket and reached up above Dean's head to where his hands were tied.

"Dean, you okay son?" Bobby asked gently. Dean's gaze flickered to Bobby.

"Peachy," he managed to say before erupting into a coughing fit. The harsh cough wracked his weakened body, causing his body to move slightly off the wall.

"Hey, hey Dean. Just breathe. Nice and easy, man," Sam said encouragingly, still cutting the ropes. As the last one was cut, Bobby moved forward to help support Dean, who fell from the sudden release of weight.

"Wow, easy Dean," Bobby said comfortingly, supporting Dean from the front. He had had arms wrapped around Dean, holding him up. Sam quickly helped Dean stand against him, gesturing for Bobby to remove the remaining ropes still tying Dean's hands together. Bobby complied, leaving a weak Dean leaning against Sam. Dean's arms were aching from being tied to the wall for so long, but he didn't complain.

"You okay bro?" Sam asked gently. Dean murmured something unintelligible into Sam's shoulder where his head lay, resting.

"Didn't catch that Dean."

"I said you're becoming a mother goose, Sam," Dean replied groggily.

Sam smiled. "You mean I'm turning into you?"

"Bitch."

"Jerk." The smile in Sam's voice was evident.

Bobby finally finished removing all the rope from Dean's hands.

"Dean, where are the witches?" Bobby asked urgently.

"We're right here," a female voice responded from the dark corner of the room. The three men turned to see four witches emerging from the corner, all wearing the same content smirk.

"Crap," Sam head Bobby mutter.

"Did you boys really think it would be so easy to escape?" The first witch said mockingly. The other witches laughed.

"Why did you let us escape the room then?" Sam challenged, gripping Dean's jacket. The owner of said jacket was still half leaning on Sam, but looked alert.

"Sam. It's called false hope. You two run in here and save Dean, thinking you can get away… only to have your hopes dashed. The look on your faces was priceless," The witch sneered.

"It is time," a new voice suddenly said. The group of witches immediately parted way for one witch who was cloaked in black. Her strides were long as she stepped in front and pushed back the black hood covering her face. Blonde hair tumbled out as she glared at the brothers and Bobby. Next to Sam, Dean stiffened.

"Still recognise me, Dean?" She called out, voice ringing in the small room. Dean glared at her, his eyes green slits.

"How could I forget you?" He hissed. She grinned in return as she approached slowly, her eyes directed at Dean.

"The same goes for you. After that little stunt you pulled in Ohio… well, it's a miracle you made it this long after what you tried to do to me," she said. He looked incredulously at her.

"You were murdering people and you blame me for trying to stop-" his rant was interrupted by another bought of coughing that sent him to his knees.

"Dean?" Sam called worriedly, hands grabbing Dean's jacket. "Dean?"

Dean continued to cough, hunched over. A metallic taste filled his mouth and leaked out. Sam's eyes widened as the red blood spilled over Dean's lips. He grabbed Dean's shoulders, trying to support his brother.

"Dean!"

Dean's lips were tinged blue as he coughed again. More blood flowed over his blue lips as he struggled to breathe, gasping for air between coughs.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as Dean's head dropped to Sam's shoulder, coughing weakly. His breathing was forced and harsh, painfully ripping through his throat, but he was still breathing.

"Dean? Dean, are you alright?" Sam asked frantically, hands flying over his brother's face, brushing against his pale cheeks, cold forehead.

"S'mmy. 'M alright…" Dean murmured weakly, still supported by Sam. He rested his forehead weakly on Sam's shoulder for a moment. Behind Sam, Den saw Bobby gazing worriedly down at him. You okay boy? Bobby's gaze asked. Fine, Bobby, Dean gazed back. However actions were more convincing than words, or in this case gazes. With a silent moan of pain, Dean struggled to his feet, all the while aided by his younger brother. Once he was on his feet, Dean felt slightly better, although his legs were shaking slightly. Preparing himself mentally, he raised his eyes and glared at the witch.

"What do you want?"