A/N- Ok, I know it's been a while, but in my defence I had a major writers block. Hope you guys are still interested in finding out what happens to our boys! Big thank you to all reviewers, readers and a special thanks to my beta The Tribble Master who made this chapter understandable. On with the chapter!

Chapter 12

Previously:

"Bobby, I think we're losing him," Sam said worriedly.

"Then we better kill them witches damn quick," Bobby said gruffly. Sam nodded.

"Got a plan?"

"Not yet."

"I do," Sam said, eyes gleaming.

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"Alright, spill."

"Charge in, guns blazing."

Bobby stared at Sam in disbelief.

"That's your plan?"

Sam nodded.

"Boy, are you trying to get us killed? No… there is another way. We go in stealthily. Kill them one by one."

"Bobby, we don't have time for that," Sam protested vehemently. "Dean's not going to last much longer. We need to stop the witches now."

"It won't help Dean if we're lying somewhere dead either!" Bobby shot back. He stepped closer to Sam, eyes flashing. He gripped Sam's shirt.

"Look, I know you're worried about your brother. I am too. But we have to think smart about this, Sam. We go charging in, they'll kill us. You wanna save your brother? You're going to have to survive this first."

Sam pulled himself free of Bobby's grasp and turned away, facing Dean. His eyes widened as he saw his brother move slightly.

"Dean?" He asked, kneeling next to Dean. To his amazement, Dean's eyelids flickered open for a second. The green orbs looked at him dazedly.

"Sammy?" The word came out in a breath before Dean's eyelids closed again and he became motionless. Sam grabbed Dean's shirt.

"No, no Dean, come back! Wake up Dean!" Sam was nearly shouting, tears filling his eyes. Dean merely flopped at his movements, once again unconscious. Sam turned to face Bobby.

"Bobby, did you-" It was then he noticed they were not alone in the room. Two more witches had entered and had the remaining weapons in their grasp. Bobby had his gun aimed at one of the witches, who had her own weapon aimed at him. Sam glanced at the barrel pointed his way before looking up at the witch holding her gun at him.

"Well, this is nice," he said sarcastically before whipping his own gun out of his pocket and aiming it at the witch. To his surprise, the other witch aimed her gun at him too, leaving Bobby unguarded.

"Bobby!" Sam said loudly, urging the older hunter on. To his surprise, Bobby did nothing. Then he began to turn slowly until his gun was pointed directly at Sam.

"Bobby?" Sam asked apprehensively, standing protectively in front of Dean. Bobby stared eerily at him before grinning.

"Wrong," he said jovially. His features then began to distort and change, Sam looked away, the site making his feel queasy. He finally looked back to see the leader of the coven standing in Bobby's place. She had a victorious look on her face as she stared at the brothers.

"Howdy, Sammy," she said flirtatiously. Sam glared at her.

"Where's Bobby? What have you done with him?"

The witch held up her right hand and beckoned to something outside the room. Pulled by invisible strings, an unconscious floating figure glided into the room. Sam stared, shocked.

"Bobby?"

There was no reply except for laughter amongst the witches. Sam felt fury blaze through him.

"You bitch, let him go!"

The witch looked at him, offended.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I hold the life of you, your brother and your friend. If you had an ounce of sense, you'd be begging me to treat them with care." She hissed. Sam glared back but did not speak. Behind him, Dean let out a soft groan. The witch's eyes flickered to the still figure.

"Darling Dean is still asleep, I see?' She said gleefully.

"Why are you doing this to him?" Sam asked her. She just shook her head.

"You'll have to ask him. Oh wait, you won't have the chance. He won't wake up."

Suddenly, Dean shifted, his head turned and his face twisted into an expression of discomfort. Sam turned around, eyes wide. Once again Dean's eyelids flickered before opening completely. Dean stared up at Sam, who was staring down in amazement.

"Dean?" Sam said in surprise. Inside, a small part of him was grinning at Dean's choice of timing to wake up. Trust Dean to be stubborn enough to beat the powers of a witch, he thought happily. Dean looked at him, confused.

"Sammy?" He asked hoarsely before raising a hand to his head. Both he and Sam turned around as the witch gasped in disbelief. She closed her eyes and raised a hand calmly to her head. Sam turned around yet again as Dean suddenly moaned before his eyes closed.

"What-" Sam began but then stopped. The remaining two witches stared in disbelief. They watched in fascinated horror at the looks of concentration that passed between Dean and their leader. Sam quickly knelt beside Dean, hand resting on his tense shoulder. He didn't understand exactly what was happening, but he could guess that Dean and the witch were fighting for control in Dean's head.

Sam glared at the witch before he turned to Dean.

"Dean, you can do this. I'm right beside you, okay? I'm right here."

Dean groaned as his mind was taken back to memories from only a few days back…

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Dean walked out of the bar, hands in pockets. He grinned at a cute girl walking in, who shyly grinned back before ducking her head, the blush on her cheek evident. Dean considered going back into the bar, but then decided not to. He wasn't in the mood really, all he wanted to do was go back to the motel and just relax with Sam. Before he could take a step further however a figure appeared in front of him. Dean raised an eyebrow at the hooded figure before his mind had a flashback to a few years earlier.

Eyes widened, Dean took a step back and his hand slipped into his pocket for his gun. He groped around, but it wasn't there. The witch laughed before holding up his precious weapon in her hand.

"Looking for this?" She asked silkily. Dean glared at her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"After you left so quickly, well, I can hardly just let you live, can I?"

"I'll kill you, I swear," he began, but was cut off.

"Your brother's here too, isn't he?" The witch asked. Dean looked up, a trace of fear on his face.

"Don't you touch him," he warned. The witch just laughed.

"Oh don't worry; he's not our main priority at the moment. That honour goes to you." Dean opened his mouth to say something but was prevented as a hand from behind him touched his forehead, sending his mind into a dark abyss.

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Dean felt himself awaken, his eyelids feeling like a ton of bricks. He shifted slightly, wincing at his stiff muscles. Through the haze he heard a voice calling his name, and he immediately knew it was Sam. Struggling to push away the darkness threatening to surround him, Dean forced his eyes open.

Kneeling beside him was Sam, who was wearing a look of both surprise and joy.

"Sammy?" Dean managed to get out before the threatening darkness overtook his mind, leaving him feeling nothing.

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Dean woke up, groaning as he felt straps pulled against his skin. A movement to his left caused him to look up to see the witch and all her cronies.

"You've been out for ages," the witch began, looking down at him. "Nearly two days, we were starting to get worried."

"Oh, because I'm sure my welfare is your biggest concern," Dean replied. The witch merely smiled.

"This seems very familiar," Dean said in a conversational tone, gesturing with his head towards their predicament. The witch smiled dangerously.

"Oh yes, the pain should feel very familiar too," she said before stabbing him in the side with a large knife. A muffled groan of pain left Dean's lips before he could stop it. The witch sniffed deeply, almost as if she could smell Dean's pain. Dean just looked at her strangely.

"You need a hanky or something?" He asked through clenched teeth, the knife digging deeper into his side.

"No, I'm good. Not sure about you though," she said before yanking the knife out of him. Dean yelped before trying to curl up on himself, but the restraints prevented this.

"What the hell is wrong with you witches?" Dean asked furiously. The witch looked at him, a convincing look of surprise on her face.

"Why Dean, we only want your blood," she said. She handed the dripping knife to one of the other witches, who turned and walked out of the room, carrying it as if it were a great prize.

"Well go get someone else's. I like my blood," Dean said.

"Funny. But we need your blood specifically."

"Why?"

The witched sighed dramatically.

"So many questions, so little time. I'm afraid you're going to be out of it for a while, Dean. But don't worry… we'll see you again," she said, a smile playing on her lips. Dean frowned before she raised a hand and he once again fell unconscious.

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Dean could feel it. The hold the witch had over him was weakening. The darkness that had been surrounding him for so long, the memories that had been haunting him, they were finally gone. All that remained in front of his eyes now was his eyelids.

He turned his head, eyelids still closed, trying to determine his surroundings. It was cold… very cold. He could sense there were quite a few people in the room, but was Sam one of them? Dean decided to open his eyes and take a look. Sam was standing in front of him, blocking his view of the room.

"Dean?" He asked, surprised. A grin appeared on his face.

"Sammy?" Dean asked wearily, holding a hand to his aching head. He heard a gasp coming from beyond Sam, on the other side of the room. He began to peer past Sam's legs, but was stopped as a blinding pain hit him hard. His eyes shut for a moment, trying to stop the pain. When he opened them however, he wasn't in the room anymore. He was standing on… well, nothing. All around him was the colour grey, which filled his vision.

He turned and saw the witch standing near him, her eyes furious.

"How did you do it?" She hissed, advancing on him. Dean began to back away when he heard Sam's voice, from far away.

"Dean, you can do this. I'm right beside you, okay? I'm right here."

"Sammy?" Dean asked in wonderment. He had no idea where the voice was coming from but it filled him with hope and courage. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face the witch, his head lowered. She stopped a few metres away from him, still fuming.

"You can't escape from my power. I'm a witch. I have power over you and all other pathetic humans. You cannot break away from my grasp." She said. Dean could hear the denial in her voice, her desperate attempt to reason with herself.

"Looks like I did, lady. And I'll do it again."

"No you won't," she said furiously. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Just watch me."

.:To Be Continued:.