Sam maneuvered his brother's big black car down Sara's driveway barely even noticing the wind that buffered the Impala

Sam maneuvered his brother's big black car down Sara's driveway barely even noticing the wind that buffered the Impala. His mind was fully centered on whether the ingredients he'd gathered, to perform the two spells, would work. He was worried that the hawthorn he'd had to make do with wouldn't be strong enough to break the hold on Sara.

As he reached the garage, the glow from the headlights reflected over the concrete floor. Something sparkled like diamonds, unsure of what it was, Sam climbed out of the idling car and moved into the garage. Glass crunched under his boots as he examined the floor. It was obvious, as he watched the wind blowing through the now vacant holes that had once held window glass, something was terribly wrong.

It took only moments to shut down the car, grab the supplies he'd bought and a shotgun. Tamping down the instinct that urged him to run full tilt into the house in search of his brother and Sara, Sam entered carefully. As he feared, the devastation continued through the dining room, where nothing remained of the french doors except the ragged framework, and through the kitchen where glass littered the floor.

Afraid to call out, Sam kept his eyes peeled as he placed the bag he carried on the table. The urge to find his brother was now a driving force too great to be ignored. If something was still in the house, there was little that Sam could do about it. The shadows, created by the pale moonlit that streamed through the shattered windows, were too deep for Sam to penetrate. For all he could tell, whatever had done the damage could be staring at him right now.

Throwing caution to the wind, he left the kitchen in a hurry heading for the stairs. He was halfway across the foyer when his foot snagged on something and down he went, his hands skittering across the broken glass that littered nearly every inch of the house. Hands stinging in pain, Sam winced and used his elbows to push up from his prone position. As he did he looked back at what had tripped him up. There, jutting out of the darkness, was the tip of a boot.

Sam focused on the shadow, just barely able to make out the shape of his brother slumped against the wall. A sliver of fear ran down his spine and he scrambled to Dean's side.

"Ah, shit, Dean," Sam whispered as he knelt next to him, uncaring about the glass that poked and pierced his knees.

Carefully, he ran a hand around the back of Dean's head, where it rested against the wall, and found a large bump already forming. His brother had hit the wall, and hit it hard.

"Dean!" Sam demanded, putting more force in his voice. He no longer cared if the sound carried, he was fairly certain that whatever had blown apart the house had done so from the outside. Not to mention that the lack of windows wouldn't stop the proactive measures that existed around each doorway and opening. Even with all the windows and doors wide open, the house was still a fortress.

The younger Winchester carefully cupped his brother's bearded chin and shook him gently. He needed Dean awake and he needed it now. "Dean, come on, you gotta wake up."

Dean responded to the movement, with a slight jerk he pulled his chin from Sam's grasp and moaned softly. Sam sat back a bit and watched as his brother fought his way to the surface. As a pair of bright green eyes blinked up at him, he urged Dean, "Hey, hey, man, come on, focus."

"Sam, you alright?"

Sam snorted in relief at his brother's question. Typical Dean, he had to make sure Sam was okay before he was fully conscious himself.

"Yeah, dude, I'm fine. I was a bit late to the party."

Dean nodded slightly, the movement eliciting a groan. "What happened?"

Without answering, Sam tucked his hand under Dean's arm and helped to haul his brother to his feet. Sam decided on the kitchen as a base of operations. Though damaged, it wasn't as bad as the other rooms simply because there was only one window above the sink. Taking a moment to brush a little glass off one of the chairs, Sam then eased his brother down onto the seat. With one hand he kept Dean leaning slightly forward to ensure his brother didn't press his back against the chair.

To say his brother had been lucky was an understatement in Sam's opinion. Dean's jean jacket had been shredded by the blast but had prevented all but the very largest shards of shrapnel from penetrating the skin beneath. Only two of the larger pieces had managed to pierce Dean's back.

"I'm gonna grab the kit, don't lean back," Sam said as he moved his hand from Dean's shoulder. As soon as the pressure eased off, Dean struggled upright ignoring Sam's words. "Dean!" Sam barked catching his brother's attention.

Halted by the order he heard in Sam's voice, Dean stopped his movement and focused blearily on Sam, "'m fine."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's words and turned to the kitchen sink. Taking a knee he pulled open the cabinet and retrieved the kit that Sara kept there.

"It took her, Sam," Dean growled his voice already sounding stronger.

Cutting away Dean's jacket and shirt allowed Sam to see the sliver of glass, slick with blood that protruded from his brother's shoulder. "It knows we're onto it, its stepping up it's game."

"Argh," Dean cried out as Sam got a firm grip on the glass wedged in his back.

"Sorry," Sam muttered.

"Yeah, and the blast of wind it sent through this place was nothing more than a distraction."

Sam stopped irrigating the wound the sliver had left and snorted at his brother's words. "Are you kidding me, this was no distraction. This thing meant to stop you from following."

"Yeah, well, it didn't work. Soon as you get me patched up I'm heading after it."

"We're," Sam snapped, as he bandaged the cut.

With a wince, Dean asked, "We're what?"

Thankfully, the second piece of glass, had mainly glanced off his brother's back. Only the tip had actually penetrated. It did however leave a three inch gash which ended with the corner of the glass sticking out of Dean's lower back. Unable to take the time to stitch the deeper cut, Sam cleaned the wound and then closed it with butterfly bandages. "We're going after Sara, you sure as hell aren't leaving me here."

As soon as Sam had finished Dean stood, his now bare torso covered in scratches. On wobbly feet, he moved toward the window. He stood, his hands clenched the edge of the sink, his gaze focused on the forest beyond the open window. "Yes, I am."

Sam's eyes were drawn to the two bandages that stood out starkly against the lightly tanned skin of his brother's back. Blood from the deeper wounds, plus the more superficial scratches had leaked down from Dean's back, staining the waistline of his jeans. Though he had been lucky, Dean was still in no condition to go running off on his own, especially not smelling like blood. It was Sara that the fairy wanted to keep, there was nothing to stop it from snacking on Dean.

"Listen to me, you are not going out there alone. You're covered in blood, and already weak from that head wound. There's no way you're keeping me from coming."

Dean turned from the sink and faced Sam once more. It didn't take a genius to see the way Dean leaned against the countertop. Sam had a feeling it was keeping his brother on his feet. Well, the countertop and his own stubborn pride, Sam amended.

"You need to prepare the-" Dean began only to be cut off by Sam.

"That's bullshit. We don't have time to argue. We're both going out there, then we'll both bring her back and perform the ritual. Plus, don't forget we have to bind this thing also, and the only way to do that is face to face."

Sam could see the moment his brother yielded. It was clear in the way his full lips tightened and his gaze turned hard. Sam pressed his point home. "We are doing this together."

"Fine, you gather the supplies for the binding spell and I'm gonna grab a shirt, we need to move, it's already been nearly an hour since Sara left."

Sam nodded and turned toward the bag he'd packed earlier. As he began double checking the supplies they'd need he heard his brother leave the room, and then return a couple minutes later. Without stopping his inspection he questioned Dean, "Where's the dog?"

"You haven't seen him?" Dean asked his voice muffled by the shirt he was easing over his head.

His brother's reply had Sam swinging around to face the older hunter. "You mean he's not locked up? I figured he was in Sara's room." Without waiting for Dean's reply, Sam ran from the room, the sound of glass crunching under his feet and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he neared Sara's bedroom he heard the sound of his brother moving up the stairs behind him.

The closed door to Sara's room offered no resistance as Sam opened it. A cursory glance showed the dog was no where in sight. As Dean entered the room, Sam turned toward his brother and asked, "Any ideas?"

Dean shook his head, it was obvious he had little idea where the dog had gone. "Do you think he followed her out?"

"Sh," Sam hushed his brother as he noticed a faint whistling sound. It took him a moment to pinpoint the sound as coming from beneath bed. Drawing the gun that rested in the small of his back, Sam, eased forward.

"What the hell's that noise?" Dean asked as Sam offered him his gun. He took the offered gun and eased to the floor, once there he nodded. Sam reached down and tugged up the bed skirt that hid the space under the bed.

888

Gun at the ready, Dean nearly pulled the trigger at the site of two large brown eyes peering back at him. The only thing that stopped him was the low whine and a familiar thumping sound.

"Jack," Dean breathed as he held his hand out to the dog.

"No way," Sam muttered as he dropped to his stomach next to Dean. "How the hell did he fit himself in there?"

Dean had no idea, the space was so tight, Jack couldn't fully lift his head, and his tail seemed to be the only thing he was capable of moving. "Got me, but I don't think he can get back out."

Jack had managed to crawl into the two-foot space between the floor and the box spring of Sara's bed. He now lay whining softly, while he stared at the brother's with a pair of sad eyes. "Dumb dog, how'd you get under there," Dean said softly as he slid himself gingerly toward the bed. With only the smallest of groans, he stretched his arm under the bed and dug his fingers into Jack's thick fur.

"We're gonna have to lift the bed off him, so he can get out."

"Seems like," Dean replied. At his touch, Jack's whimpers became whines and his tail thumped even harder. "I gotta say big guy I'm a bit disappointed, you're not looking so tough right now," Dean told the dog as he continued to stroke his head. At his words Jack wriggled a bit, stretching toward him.

"Well, to be fair, he's a snow dog. He was bred to deal with avalanches in the Alps, not tornado force winds. Dog's are sensitive to barometric pressure, when it dropped it probably freaked him out."

Dean nodded and withdrew his hand, ignoring the dog's throaty growls. "Alright, let's get this thing up so we can free him."

As soon as he gained his feet, Jack's growls became a short high-pitched bark and the bed began to shake slightly. The next thing Dean knew, Jack began to emerge from beneath the bed. His huge paws came first, digging into the rug for purchase as he clawed his way out. Quicker than Dean could have guessed the dog was out from beneath the bed and sitting on his boots.

"Holy shit, I can't believe he got out on his own," Sam breathed as he reached out and ran his hands over Jack's fur.

Dean didn't bother trying to extract his feet, he only shifted slightly to keep from being knocked over by the dog's weight. "We're gonna have to do something about his feet. This glass'll shred his paws."

"I have an idea," Sam said as he moved toward the bathroom.

"Good," Dean sighed, speaking softly to the dog as he continued to try to settle him. "'Cause I wasn't planning on carrying your ass out of here."

Sam returned in a minute with two bath mats in his hand. "The rubber matting should help," he said as he laid the mat down on the floor. "We just need to get him to the hall, there's no glass on the rug or down the steps. We're probably gonna have to shut him in the basement, that's the only place that doesn't have glass."

Dean shook his head as he urged Jack up and onto the mat. Sam then laid the next mat, making Jack a path to follow. "We need him, he's gonna find Sara for us."

Sam took the now empty mat and moved it in front of Jack, leading the dog out of the room. Dean followed the two of them, trying to ignore the guilt that assaulted him at the idea of leading Jack into danger, or well following him as the case may be.

"If it'll save Sara..." Sam's voice trailed off as he led the dog down the stairs.

Dean watched as Sam threw open the front door, that was directly across from the stairs, and made a walkway for the dog to cross the glass littered floor. Once outside, Jack stopped on the stoop and looked back up the stairs at Dean. Gone was the shaking mass of frightened fur that they'd earlier found under the bed. Standing in his place was Jack, solid, dependable, loyal to the fault, every inch the rescue dog he'd been bred to be.

They were going to find Sara, and find her in time, Dean felt sure of it. "Grab what we're gonna need, Sam, I'm gonna see if Jack can pick up the trail."

888

"I know you're awake, there's no reason not to face me."

Sara ignored the voice and kept her eyes closed. She needed a moment to figure out where the hell she was. The last thing she remembered, she had been lying on her bed. Dean had awoken her to tell her that Sam was out and he was going to do a perimeter check. After that, everything was blank.

If the feel of hard earth her under cheek was any indication she was no longer in her house, let alone, in her bed. Gone were the cool, clean sheets and soft mattress. Instead, she could hear the sound of running water and the smell of cedar being born by a steady breeze. If she had to guess, she would figure she was on her property somewhere near the running trail she used.

Earlier she'd heard Sam and Dean conversing about the vampire that was wreaking havoc in her life. She vaguely remembered one of them saying that the creature was most likely living in a stand of cedar trees near the stream. That meant she was only a little over half a mile from the house.

Sara's heart leapt into her throat as she realized just what it mean if she were no longer under Dean's watchful eye. "Dean," she breathed, fear for the man overriding her plan to stay silent.

"The hunter? No worries, he's been taken care of," the voice growled, "it was actually much easier than I thought it would be. That damn fortress of yours has caused me more trouble than you can imagine."

"Good," Sara rasped as she opened her eyes and forced her body to move. Carefully she edged onto her back, and pushed herself upright. At some point darkness had finally fallen, leaving a forest full of shadows. At first, Sara assumed it was the dim light that kept her from seeing clearly, then she realized that her glasses were missing. "Shit." That was certainly going to make things more difficult. Feeling adrift in the dark not knowing where her enemy was, left her quaking on the forest floor. Never, not even during her confrontation with Gordon had she felt so helpless.

"Now, now, there's no real reason to cry, you know. I don't plan on killing you."

Though she hadn't realized it at first the voice was right, tears were making tracks down Sara's face. Ordering herself to suck it up, she rubbed an arm across her face and spat, "If you're not killing me then I'll just be going." She suited her actions to her words and gained her feet, facing the direction the voice had come from. No matter how she strained all she could see were more shadows. One of which seemed to be moving independently from the others. Determined to face the monster on her own terms, Sara kept the shadow within her sights. She might be all but blind but that didn't mean she would cower before it. She had managed to take only one unsteady foot forward when the voice spoke.

"Sit, before you fall down. I wouldn't want you injuring yourself."

"Bite me," Sara snapped as she took another step. She knew what the creature wanted her for, and there was no way in hell she was going to go along with its plans. The idea of the Anchanchu entering her home and coming in contact with her children, all the while wearing her body was repugnant to say the least. There was no way she was going down without a fight.

"I said, sit!"

Something knocked Sara's legs out from under her, dropping her to the ground with bone jarring thump. Despite her intentions, a faint groan escaped her as pain shot up her spine. This time she stayed down and opted for distraction.

"You said you weren't looking to hurt me."

The deep disembodied voice replied with a hint of humor. "I didn't harm anything other than your pride, and trust me when I say you won't be needing it anymore. In fact, soon, all your worries will end at last."

As Sara listened, she worked hard to keep the shadow in her sight. The idea of losing what little advantage she had scared her to death. "Would you be surprised if I said I didn't want my worries to end?"

A boom of laughter rolled through the woods. "Oh, come on, surely you have to be thinking it'd be a blessing. Hell, I've only scratched your surface and already I question if I really want your life."

Back and forth the sound moved as the creature paced. It was obvious that it was anxious about something. A tiny voice in the back of Sara's mind suggested it might be a sign of its eagerness instead. Sara worked hard to ignore that voice. "My life is wonderful. Or at least it was until you came along."

"Right, the loss of your mate. The constant and never ending worry of raising your young alone. You're every waking moment is a struggle to survive. Who wouldn't want that?"

Sara couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know where you get your information, pal, but you are way off base."

"I don't think so, I've seen into your heart I've tasted the depression that's eating away at you."

Sara suddenly realized the creature was right. She had allowed Dean's absence to drag her down. How stupid she'd been not to take the blessings in her life and concentrate solely on them. She might miss Dean with every last breath she had, but never would she consider giving up. She wasn't that person, she was someone that moved forward out of sheer pig-headed stubbornness if there was nothing else to rely on. She had her children, her family, her career, and the memory of two great loves. It was enough.

"You've snagged yourself the wrong girl. I'm not sad, or depressed, I have no interest in ending my life and no intention of giving it up either. So if it's a fight you were looking for, It's a fight you've found."

The shadow loomed closer. Every instinct in Sara's body screamed at her to lean away, to close her eyes and shut out the sight of the fairy. Sara stiffened her spine instead. There was little chance she'd be able to save herself from the monster. However, if she refused to even try that little chance became no chance at all.

"You lie, I have seen you restless, roaming the dark corridors at night, your heart heavy.

Sara suddenly felt slightly better, the agitation in his voice suggested that she had one last card to be played. It was obvious in order for this monster to take her over she needed to be weak in spirit as well as in body. "What, you've never been hit with a bout of insomnia, it's a bitch I can tell you that."

"No, no that's not right. I've seen you're suffering, I've seen the tears you've shed-"

"Nope, not me. No suicidal tendencies here." Sara interrupted knowing that she spoke the truth. She wanted to live and to do so, she needed to throw off the creature. She needed time, time for Dean to find her. The fact that he would despite what the Anchanchu said was a surety in her book. If something had happened to Dean she would have felt it in her heart. The feeling of defiance, not matter how small, left Sara smugly grinning up at the creature that lurked nearby.

Apparently, the grin wasn't appreciated as something struck Sara hard and fast across the face. The blow caused a throbbing in her cheek that made her see stars. She was right he was becoming flustered. At worst she wondered if it would be possible to have the creature kill her outright. At least that way she knew her family would be safe, and Sam and Dean would have far less trouble dealing with the fairy if she wasn't there to worry about.

The idea that this creature would be able to approach her kids with them none the wiser was the thing that worried her most. Determined not to let that happen, Sara clung to her defiance and took strength from it.

"I won't go quietly. You can be sure of that. I might not be able to stop you from taking me over, but, he will."

She had little doubt that the fairy would know the him, she referred to. If he'd spent any time at all observing her, he'd realize there was only one man it could be.

"Bah, you speak of the hunter, he's nothing to me. I have taken care of him, as I took care of the others. None posed a problem for me."

Sara's bravado faded as the Fairy's words sunk in. "What others? What are you talking about?"

Fetid breath caressed Sara's cheek as the creature leaned toward her, his face suddenly in focus, and spoke.