Previously: Quinn and Sam are checking out the van's company when Sam has another vision that shows Dean being killed by a demon at TM Motors. That vision, however, was faked by another of the psychic kids being held prisoner with Dean and Jenna but who is cooperating with the demons. The demons then threaten to shoot Dean if Jenna doesn't cooperate so she does and black smoke shoots out of her mouth and possesses a man the demons had held captive in the room.

CHAPTER 6 – If You Can't Help the One You Love, Help the One You're With

Sam and Quinn salted as many doors as they could in case they were spotted and had to leave at a run. The garage faced sideways to the street and had a sheltered front lot that was unusually quiet for a place that should have opened over an hour ago. In fact, it was completely empty save a few derelict-looking cars. The large bay doors along the front were all fully closed so they poured a salt line along them too. The front office doors, however, were all glass and the hunters didn't want to risk approaching them in case they were seen by the bored-looking guy sitting behind the service desk, so those remained unsalted.

In Sam's vision, Dean had been tied to a chair near a hoist in the main service area, which was at the front of the building. His would-be rescuers crept up to a solid metal door in the back of the building, each holding a loaded sawed-off shotgun. Sam deftly picked the lock and pushed the door open without making a sound but before he could move inside, Quinn slipped past him, weapon raised. She took a couple of steps into the building and stopped, holding a hand out behind her to stop Sam in his tracks as she cocked her head to listen. He instinctively obeyed, looking around sharply as his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside. They were in an empty lunchroom that had two doors out of it. Quinn tilted her head and made a couple of hand gestures in the air. Recognizing his dad's 'stealth mode' sign language, Sam knew she was saying to split up and take the left door while she took the right.

He frowned and shook his head but she just repeated the gesture and started moving away. He gritted his teeth in frustration but complied, just like he always did with Dean.

He pulled open the door on the left side of the room soundlessly open to find he was staring along the back of the garage service shop, an array of tools, machinery, and air hoses hanging from the wall. He heard voices and pressed himself against the doorframe, leaning forward just enough to peer around the corner.

This was the shop from his vision – he recognized it immediately. It was four bays wide and there was a hoist in each bay. There were no mechanics working and no torque wrench buzzes or compressed air sounds that usually went along with a service garage. Instead, the room was empty except for one white van in the second bay and two men standing at the far end around a chair. Sam could make out the shape of a third man sitting in the chair and his heart skipped a beat. The chair was facing away from him and the man's head was slumped forward, but from the broad shoulders and dark blue shirt, Sam was sure it was Dean. But the man wasn't moving.

Please don't let him be too late.

The two standing by the chair didn't look like they were going anywhere anytime soon. So much for the quiet rescue where they slip Dean out of here without ever alerting the demons.

"Where the fuck is he?" one of the men growled suddenly to his companion. "Thought he'd be here by now." He gave the man in the chair a slap on the back of the head, evoking a grunted response that sent a wave of relief through the hunter in the shadows. "Thought he'd want to save his pain-in-the-ass brother."

Sam was already moving swiftly and silently towards them, his desperation to avoid a repeat of his vision causing the implication of what the demons were saying to sink in too slowly. He was halfway there by the time their words did eventually register and he stopped abruptly.

Were they talking about him? Were they expecting him? Doubt only had a second to sweep through Sam before one of the men standing next to the chair turned and saw him.

Trap or no trap, things were about to get ugly. He raised the shotgun and pointed it towards the closest man, hesitant to shoot until he knew for certain it was a demon. His proof was provided almost immediately when the man's eyes flitted black.

"It's him!" the demon shouted just before taking a salt round blast to the chest and falling back onto the cement floor. Sam swung the gun sideways and fired at the second demon. This one cried out in pain but stood his ground, prompting Sam to fire again, and again, and again. He could hear more firing from the adjacent room in the direction Quinn had gone but only spared a second to worry about her as he had reached the man in the chair.

"Dean!" he gushed, wrapping a fist in the fabric of the blue shirt and shaking him to see if he was awake.

He realized it wasn't his brother even before the man's head lifted to reveal a stranger with a taunting grin.

"Sorry, Sam. Dean couldn't make it."

"Where is he?!" Sam demanded fiercely, jabbing the butt of the shotgun at the man's face since he was too close to fire.

The man's hand shot up and he snatched the weapon from Sam's hands, the fake-knotted ropes falling from his wrists to the floor. The hunter immediately started chanting a Latin exorcism as he took a hasty step back and reached for the flask of holy water in his pocket.

He barely had time to splash it at the demon in front of him before one of the demons that had risen from the floor was grabbing him from behind, trying to pin his arms behind his back. He spun and punched him, using his holy water again to hold him off as he tried to run.

He only got three steps before they were on him, all three demons, bowling him over and tackling him in a writhing heap on the floor. He kicked and punched and struggled for all he was worth, trying to get enough Latin words out to at least have an effect on them but continual blows to the gut kept winding him, interrupting the exorcisms. He could hear more shots and loud banging noises indicative of a struggle or a fight in the next room and wondered fleetingly if Quinn could have found Dean.

This was a trap. They knew he was coming. Dean wasn't here. The painful truth sank in just as a boot landed in his gut, this one landing solidly enough to make his whole body go lax.

Two of the demons hauled him roughly to his feet, tightening their hold as he recovered and renewed his vigorous struggle. They dragged him towards the white van and opened the back doors while the third hit the button to open the bay door and got into the driver's seat. As he was shoved violently inside, Sam wrapped his fingers around the door frame in a last desperate attempt, knowing if they got the van door closed he was screwed.

A hard hit to the solar plexus and his hands let go against his will. Completely winded, he looked up just in time to see Quinn dash into the service bay, a thin line of blood running down her chin. Her eyes widened as she saw him and she started running in his direction but the van door slammed shut and vehicle started moving. Sam heard shots being fired and a couple of bullets ricocheting around the wheel wells but the van kept going, tires intact.

At least Quinn was safe, he thought as he gulped a raspy mouthful of air into his lungs.

Giving up just wasn't the Winchester genes. He took two deep breaths and kicked up at the two demons in the back of the van with him, scrambling towards the back door again. If he had to jump out at fifty miles per hour, so be it.

He was disheartened to find there was no inside handle. The demons obviously noted his disappointment for they both started laughing.

"Just give up, Winchester," one panted heavily, leaning over with his hands on his knees. "Don't you know when you're beat?"

"Where's my brother?" was his heated reply as he pushed up to his feet, bracing himself against the wall as the two demons on the other side of the confined space were doing.

"Livin' it up in a room at the Ritz," was the sarcastic reply. "So why don't you sit your ass down and we'll take you there so you two can cuddle."

Sam knew the hunched over stand-off in the back of the van was pointless. He was well and truly captured at this point. Part of him was relieved for these demons were likely really taking him to the same place so as Dean so he would at least get to see his brother, know he was alright. But he couldn't exactly help Dean if they were both imprisoned somewhere. And some part of him knew this had to do with the 'plans' Yellow-Eyes had for him and if he was being honest, that scared the shit out of him.

He hadn't decided yet whether to be complacent or stubborn when the choice was taken away from him. There was a screech of tires and the van suddenly lurched, throwing all three men in the back into the cold, hard metal of the side panel. Another swerve and a bang and another swerve, then a sickening crunch and an abrupt stop that sent Sam flying headfirst into the bench that ran up one side of the van.

He felt the steel rip into the flesh of his side and knew he was bleeding badly before his body even came to a stop on the metal floor. A grunt of pain escaped him and for the next few seconds all he could make out was the cursing and pained growls of the two demons trying to untangle their limbs from the heap they were all in.

The demons made it to their feet first, the closest looking down at him and releasing a new slew of curse words. "He's bleeding," he spat, reaching for Sam's arm and rolling him so he was laid out on the floor.

"He'd better not die or the boss is gonna flay us alive," the second snapped, leaning down to pull the blood-soaked shirt out of Sam's trousers and push it up his chest.

The hunter managed to tilt his head downwards and let out a surprised chortled sound at the large patch of blood on the front of his white shirt. He could feel the warmth of a fresh cut but the pain hadn't hit him yet. He instinctively moved to sit up but stopped at the flood of sunlight that hit him when one of the back doors flew open.

Several shotgun blasts rang out and the two demons above him were suddenly yelling and writhing and then lunging out the back door at their attacker. He saw Quinn's face appear for a brief instant before he heard her yelling at him.

"Move your ass, Winchester!"

He shook his head clear and forced himself up, scrambling towards the scuffle he could hear going on outside. He slid out the back door to find Quinn fighting to break free from the first demon who had one of her arms pinned behind her. The shotgun was nowhere in sight but she had a 9mm drawn instead. The second demon was in front of her and Sam watched in horror as she raised her free hand and fired two shots right into his eyes.

Damnit, there was a human in there.

The demon fell to the ground screaming until a funnel of black smoke shot from its mouth. It swirled around Quinn for a full turn before breaking away and tearing off down the street. Sam grabbed the demon that still had a hold of Quinn and yanked him off her. The demon was too strong for Sam to hold and he broke free almost instantly but Quinn spun around and with only a flicker of hesitation, shot that one in both eyes too. He immediately staggered away, flailing around blindly before the demon's true form tore out of him also, disappearing into the air somewhere over the van.

Sam swayed on his feet for a second, starting to feel the effects of blood loss as he as he stared at the gory sight of the two dead and bloody meatsuits before him. Quinn reached forward and grabbed his forearm, concerned creases in her forehead.

"You're bleeding," she stated, a wild grin suddenly appearing on her face. "Holy shit, you sure don't go down without a fight, do you? Can you make it to the car?"

He nodded, looking around hastily to see her Exige parked haphazardly in the middle of the quiet street with the driver's door still open and huge dents all down one side. Well, that explained the van's lurching and why its hood was now wrapped around a telephone pole – Quinn had run them off the road.

There was an angry shout and suddenly the driver was out and running down the side of the van towards them, fury painted on his face. Sam saw Quinn in his peripheral, tensing and tightening the grip on her 9mm but his eyes were drawn instead to the gun in the demon's hand.

A dozen thoughts ran through Sam's head in an instant, as they do in moments of pure adrenaline. This demon was the same one who'd had the gun last night when the demons had attacked the hunters at the diner. This guy had tried to shoot Quinn then. The look he was giving her this very second indicated he was planning on finishing the job right now. This guy was moving too fast. They would never find cover before he could fire. Quinn had practically no chance of taking him down permanently before the demon shot her. This was not going to end well.

But there was one thought that never ran through his mind. The thought that stopped the demon was instinctive, not intentional. "No!" Sam shouted, raising his hand so his arm was outstretched towards the demon. The second back door of the van, the one that had still been closed, suddenly flew open with incredible force, slamming into the demon's face as he rounded the back of the van. The demon was thrown to the ground with a cracking noise and the gun dropped out of his grasp.

Sam picked it up swiftly and was tugging Quinn towards her car before he even realized his energy level was far higher than it should be considering the state he was in a few seconds ago. Quinn faltered for a moment, her mouth gaping open as she darted her gaze back and forth between Sam and the stunned demon on the pavement. To Sam's relief, she recovered quickly and ran the few steps to her car. Sam made it around to the passenger side and as soon as he had sunk into the seat, they were skidding away with a loud squeal of tires.

A block away and the misleading energy boost faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Sam on the verge of passing out again. A soft groan escaped his lips and he tipped his head back in the seat.

"Uh, you need a hospital?" Quinn asked, her voice shaky.

He shook his head, forcing his eyes to stay open. "No. No, too risky. Just... back to the motel."

He felt a gentle hand pulling at his suit jacket and lifting his shirt. He looked over to see her frowning at the sight of the cut in his side. "That's pretty bad, Winchester."

"Can you stitch?" he slurred.

"Yeah... but I'm not a medic. It'll be pretty rudimentary."

"That'll do." His dad's rule that he or Dean better be dead or dying before risking a trip to a hospital floated through his spinning brain. Wondering how he had swung that van door chased the thought.

He wasn't sure if he passed out for a while because the drive seemed short and before he knew it, Quinn was pulling right up to the motel door. She pulled his suit jacket closed in an attempt to hide the blood and helped him into the room before taking the car around back to hide it with the Impala and Jenna's motorcycle.

Sam dropped down onto his bed, a hand pressing against the cut. He had a dozen other large bruises and his head was pounding but the cut was definitely the most worrying. Quinn came into the room with a first aid kit in her hand and immediately salted the door. She tossed a small, canvas pouch onto the bed next to Sam.

"Keep that close," she told him as she headed for the bathroom for towels. "It's a hex bag. I'll explain after I stitch you up."

He heard the tap running but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of her retching. Sam was mildly surprised and wondered if she was hurt or if today's bloodshed had just shaken her enough to puke. He hadn't expected that reaction because she had shot those demons right in the face without flinching, a move Sam didn't think he could have gone through with.

She came back out and climbed on the bed with him without saying anything, helping him out of his jacket and shirt. As she cleaned the cut with a wet towel, Sam studied her tense face.

"That the first time you've shot someone?" he asked, trying to keep his mind off the searing pain in his side.

Her expression softened and she sighed as she picked up the suture needle. "First ones that weren't shooting back at me. First so close up. It was different than in Iraq."

"They were demons," he defended, realizing he was arguing the side his brother usually took.

"The people inside weren't. Those two today and that one last night. I didn't kill the demons; I killed them."

Sam just nodded in understanding, his teeth gritted too tightly in pain to speak right away as she pulled the edges of he cut together. Collateral damage. Just like Jessica. Just like his mom. The list went on.

"You saved me," he offered meekly, the words draining him of the last of his energy. His parting thought before the room faded to black was a desperate hope that Dean wasn't added to that list.

~X~X~X~X~X~

Dean woke up suddenly, unsure if it was from the metal bar at the edge of the narrow cot digging into his back or by movement from Jenna next to him. Turning his head, he found her lying peacefully so he stole a glance at his watch. One o'clock in the morning. She'd been out for over sixteen hours.

When she had collapsed after spewing demon smoke, the demons had brought the pair of them back to their room. They had dumped her on the cot and she hadn't moved since. Lunch and then supper had been delivered and still, she hadn't stirred.

Dean had spent the day digging away in the bathroom with his spoon. Even the wall through to the hallway had a damn layer of bricks between the layers of drywall. Once he'd managed to get the first brick out, the second had come easier but he still only had a hole big enough to stick his arm through. He had to do it quietly and without breaking through the far side sheet of drywall in case the demons saw it in the hallway. Considering he'd only slept a total of three hours in the last three days, exhaustion finally caught up with him and he decided he could justify a quick powernap to recharge. It wasn't like he could try to escape before Jenna woke up anyway.

The cot was narrow but she didn't take up a lot of room so he allowed himself to squeeze on next to her. Three-quarters of him being on the mattress was better than all of him being on the floor. He'd fallen asleep within minutes.

Now he let out a long sigh and tried to will his tired and bruised muscles to get up and get back to working on his getaway hole. Before he could sit up, however, he heard Jenna's breathing deviate from its even rhythm and glanced sideways again to see her head move and her eyes flutter open.

"Hi," he greeted her softly, propping his head up on bended elbow and rolling onto his side to face her. "Wakey wakey."

She blinked slowly a couple of times, a confused expression finally giving way to one Dean couldn't quite identify. She scrunched her eyes tightly closed again and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Oh God," she whispered.

"Not exactly the reaction a guy wants when a girl wakes up in bed with him." Dean tried for levity.

She didn't even come close to cracking a smile, instead turning quickly away from him to face the wall.

"Uh, are you hurt?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "Jenna?"

She shook her head. "You saw, didn't you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "What I did?"

Dean put a hand intending to be comforting on her shoulder but she flinched and tensed beneath his touch.

"So now you know," she said. "You know what I am. That I'm a freak."

"Hey," Dean admonished. "You're not exactly the first psychic I've met."

"I'm not a psychic," she argued, still not turning around. "This is a demon thing. I'm this way because I'm connected to demons somehow."

"Connected to doesn't mean shit." Dean reached over and rolled her shoulder firmly towards him. "You're a hunter, a human like the rest of us."

She shook her head, just giving him the briefest of glances before averting her eyes. "A couple of months back, these hunters found out about me," she told him. "They tried to kill me. They said I was a demon creation built to help the demons, said I would whether I wanted to or not." She screwed her eyes shut again. "What I just did was proof of that. I helped the demons."

Dean winced at the memory of the gun to his head. "I'd say that one's kinda on me, Jen."

She wasn't willing to shift the blame. "These hunters said I couldn't be allowed to live, that me drawing breath was putting all every innocent human life in danger."

Dean snorted. "You are one of the innocent humans," he said confidently, masking his growing worry inside. Crap, there were more hunters like Gordon Walker out there, more people who knew about these psychic kids – more people who were a threat to Sam. "Those hunters were wrong."

"I just reached into Hell and dragged a demon back here with me, Dean. That man in the room, Peter, he was so scared and now he's possessed by a demon that's probably going to kill him while it's in there." Her voice wavered at the end of her statement. "I did that to him and there's nothing innocent about that. There's no way I can do good with… this." She closed her eyes again and for a moment, Dean thought she was about to cry. "I'm a freak," she whispered. "You probably want to waste me yourself right now."

The hunter instinctively put his arm around her, pulling her into his chest in a comforting gesture. "You are not a freak, you got that? And the only things I'm gonna waste are the demons who did this to you." She buried her face in his shirt and her shoulders started to quiver. He did what came naturally and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "You didn't ask for this, Jenna," he continued, speaking onto the top of her head. "My brother, Sam, he's got abilities too; different than yours but it amounts to the same thing. But he's a good kid, all the way through. That much I do know. Got a huge heart and..." he allowed himself a chuckle. "...he's so frigging emo he makes me wanna gag sometimes. But whatever this psychic thing is all about, it isn't on him any more than it's on you. You're not evil and you're not going to turn evil and there's nothing evil inside you."

He pulled her gently away from him just enough that he could make eye contact. "You are not a freak. This isn't your fault. You hear me?"

He held her gaze until she finally nodded and he felt her relax against him. "Thanks Dean," she breathed into his chest.

A thought struck him as he held her close, pity for her sweeping through him . Was this how his brother felt? Did these same feelings and doubts haunt Sam every day? To this extent? Did Sam think he was a freak?

Of course he did. The kid had always tried so hard - too hard - to be normal, spent his whole life longing for it before finally chasing it to Stanford. Maybe he had wanted it so badly because it was even more out of reach for him than it had ever been for Dean.

He wondered how he had just managed to openly and so convincingly reassure Jenna she wasn't the freak she thought she was but just couldn't seem to drive that point home to his own brother. Why was this so much easier with a complete stranger than with his own flesh and blood?

Hell, he realized guiltily, he even played into Sam's fears and misgivings by referring to his visions as 'weirdo visions' and 'creepy psychic thing'. He needed to be more supportive, less judgmental. But the truth was, Sam's psychic shit scared the Hell out of him and he couldn't help but worry Sam would do something or become something... Why couldn't he convince himself of what he had just convinced Jenna?

If you can't save him, you may have to kill him.

That was why. Goddamn John Winchester.

Jenna laid her head back down on his shoulder and curled closer into him. Dean shifted enough to get comfortable and allowed himself to relax also, glad to no longer have the metal bar bruising his flesh. It was a narrow bed but it fit both of them if cuddling was involved. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He could live with that.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything before. I didn't... I didn't know what you'd do."

Dean frowned. "These hunters that came after you really did a number on you, huh?"

"They believed they were doing the right thing." She looked up at him, giving him a meek smile as she touched a finger lightly to his split lip. "And those demons really did a number on you, huh?"

He grinned, shrugging his injuries off. "They'll get what's coming to them. Now, how's about we pool our information? No more holding back, 'kay? You tell me your story and everything you know about demons and I'll tell you what Sam and I have dug up so far."

She let out a tired sigh, still curled into him but she started talking. Her first experience with the supernatural had been when she was about fourteen. A woman with black eyes had approached her after school. She had been waiting in the empty yard for her legal guardian, her brother, who was, as usual, late to pick her up. This woman had been babbling things like she wondered if all the talk was true and if Jenna was one of 'them' and if Jenna could help her find her lost love. Then Jason had shown up, yelling at the woman to back off and the demon had smoked out of the body she'd been in and tried to possess Jenna, who had somehow been able to force the demon out of her. The smoke had gone back into the body of the woman and she had fled.

It hadn't made any sense at the time but Jason had been determined to figure it out and within months, he'd quit his job and was hunting. Their parents had been doctors, their father quite a prominent surgeon in the State before his death, so she and Jason lived comfortably on their inheritance and the life insurance payout. He had met Quinn on a hunt a couple of years later and the two had hunted full time together while Jenna had been in college.

"You went to college?" Dean asked curiously. "Stanford?"

"No, UCLA. Until my brother was killed by demons and the dreams started. Since then I've been with Quinn, trying to get to the bottom of it all. Trying to figure out how to make it stop."

'It' had started out as just dreams - a scary place with lots of screaming that Jenna had just chalked up to being typical nightmares of a hunter. A week after the first one, however, her brother had died in a car accident. She hadn't suspected anything at first because he'd been known to be a speed demon behind the wheel, but Quinn had found sulfur at the scene and Jenna just knew it had something to do with her nightmares.

The dreams continued to get worse and worse, with bruises showing up where demons had grabbed her and then about a month ago, one had latched onto her and not let go. She had woken up to smoke streaming out of her mouth and hadn't really understood what had happened until Darksuit had explained that she could bring demons back from Hell.

But DarkSuit and Redhead didn't want her to bring just any demon. The ones she saw in her dreams were insignificant nobodies, wandering aimlessly around the upper levels of Hell. They wanted her to find specific demons of their choice, which she could apparently do if she had their full name, and bring them out to help in their war.

"War?"

"Yeah, from what they've said, I think these demons here are kind of like a secret band of underground rebels or something and then there's the bulk of the demons, who follow some other demon they tend to refer to as 'Asshole'."

"Do either Asshole or the boss of these demons have yellow eyes?"

"I don't know." She peered up at him curiously. "Okay, your turn. What's with the obsession with yellow eyes?"

"A demon with yellow eyes killed my mom in a fire when Sam was exactly six months old. Then it killed his girlfriend just over a year ago. Now these demons are after him too. That's a lot of similarities with you." He frowned. "We know what they want you for, but why do they want Sam so bad? He just has the occasional vision."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I swear. They've never said exactly."

They were both quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. It was Jenna who broke the silence.

"Your mom was killed in a fire on Sam's six month birthday?"

"Yeah. And my dad was sure it was Yellow-Eyes. He said..."

"So that means both my brother and my mom were killed because of me?"

Dean bit his lip. Crap. Jenna had so much in common with his little brother it was insane. He had never been able to convince Sam that their mom's and Jessica's deaths weren't his fault, despite arguing to the contrary on an almost constant basis. He looked down and gave Jenna what he hoped was a convincing stare. "No," he said firmly. "They were killed because of demons. That's all."

A renewed worry for Sam swept through him. He hadn't heard anything from the demons in the house so maybe that meant the trap they'd set for his brother had failed. Sam was smart, resourceful, and could think on his feet. Maybe he'd outsmarted them.

Dean hoped that was the case. Damnit, he needed to get out of here to get back to looking out for his little brother. He needed to warn Sam that some of the visions were fake, sent by the traitorous Reagan to lure him in. He hated the thought of Sam being alone out there with demons after him and no Dean to protect him. Six foot four or not, he was still Dean's little brother.

He peered down at Jenna, who was lost in thought, staring blankly into the room with a sad expression on her face. And he needed to get her out of here before they made her pull more demons out of Hell.

"Hey," he said, nudging her with his elbow to get her attention. "I got a surprise for you in the bathroom."

She giggled. "Really? Can't you just flush like a normal guy?"

The hunter laughed as he sat up, pleased to see her smiling. "Toilet humor, huh? Wow. That is so sexy."

She blushed, still giggling. "Guess I've been spending too much time with Quinn."

~X~X~X~X~X~

A/N: Okay, so I beat up Dean last chapter and figured it was Sammy's turn. Hope you didn't mind :)