alright, i'm SO sorry this is so late. school just started and it's already kicking my ass D:

i made it long, please enjoy! ;D

soothe my headache, please review! :DDD

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Chapter 30: Playthings Part 3

I took a longer shower than I was supposed to, but I mean, when you have a shower as great as the one I had just had you wouldn't want to get out either. The tub was actually a white color compared to the off yellow I had noticed on all the motel tubs. Plus some had stains that were a near grey color that you just did not want to know where they came from. Made me think I was going to have this fungus growing on my feet one time or another. It also made me consider in buying shower shoes. Not only did the shower look nice but it felt great too. It was the perfect water pressure. It wasn't hard enough that I was bruising my back but I wasn't washing my hair with little drips either. Plus, I think I had been in the shower for an hour now? And the water had stayed hot for that long; which is like an unwritten rule when it comes to motel room bathrooms. If they were shutting this place down, it wasn't because the showers were horrible.

I rolled my eyes, stepping out of the tub to grab a huge white towel to wrap around myself. I mean obviously this place had a lot more trouble getting people to come. It was an old fashioned inn and it made me wonder why people thought motel rooms were so much more to look at and live in. Especially since I knew what I was talking about, I'd lived in motel rooms mostly all my life. I was disappointed that we just couldn't stay a little bit longer after the case was over. I knew Dean and Sam would want to hurry and pack things up to go look for another job. Maybe I could convince Dean to stay one more day after the case was finished? Believe me, one more day of that huge soft bed and amazing shower would have me thanking him for months. And I'm sure he wouldn't mind that.

I slipped the sweatpants on and adjusted the damn drawstring and then slipped Sam's t-shirt over my head. I smiled as I looked in the mirror to brush my hair. I had used my new shampoo and with the combination of vanilla pouring out of Sam's shirt made my senses go a little wonky. The shirt was too big for me but it was a nice kind of big that it wasn't irritating to wear. It was actually kind of comforting. It made me feel closer to Sam then we really were. Ever since, well everything, I really missed him sometimes. I drew the shirt a little tighter around me and buried my nose in the shoulder, taking a deep breath in everything that was Sam. It was all my fault that we weren't as close as we should have been and I mean that friends wise. I still wanted Dean, I mean hello, I was the one who wanted a kid with him. But I wanted Sam to be there for me, to support me, I needed that. I just hope he still needed me.

I brushed my hair and ran my fingers through it, trying to get it to dry a little before I laid it down on the pillow. I shrugged and threw the towel over the pole that held the shower curtain to dry. If my hair was too wet by the time I went to sleep I'd just have to use Dean's pillow.

"Do you know where the blow dryer is?" I asked Sam as I walked out of the bathroom. I went to look in the miscellaneous bag but it wasn't in there, just bottles of shampoo and toothpaste. Did we have bag that just had a blow dryer in it? Being a girl, Sam and Dean had taken my straighter and curling iron from my old house and placed it in the back of the trunk in case I ever decided I wanted to use it. The blow dryer was more common however and we usually kept it in one of the duffels we put in the motel room with us.

"In one of the damn bags I guess." Was Sam's gruff response. I turned slowly to look at him at the desk, but that wasn't where he was. The room was kind of dark on account that it was nearing nine o' clock so I couldn't point out exactly where he was.

I felt for the light switch near one of the nightstands and flipped it on, seeing Sam near the window, looking out. Uh-oh; small bells ringing in my head upon seeing Sam staring out the dark and dreary window. Maybe that Ava thing had gotten to him, just a little late.

"Sam, are you okay?" I asked him softly, approaching him. "Did you find something on Ava?"

He turned and leaned out of the curtain he was looking through and crossed his arms over his chest as he was looking at me. It was a very huddled pose, like if he stood there like that long enough I'd get the point he wanted to be left alone. Well too goddamn bad. He'd be bothering the hell out of me if I was upset. Consider the action fully repaid. I stood there and waited, leaning on my left leg and put my arms over my chest as well. I tried looking him in the eyes but they were drooped, staring at something that must have been extremely fascinating by my feet.

"Why would this have anything to do with Ava?" He asked me and then looked up. "Did you find the blow dryer?"

Please don't change the subject on me Sam. "No, I figured I didn't need it." I ran my hair through my wet locks as if to prove some kind of point. "What happened?"

He shrugged and went over near his bed and started unmaking it. He pulled the sheets back and adjusted the pillows; he then took his button down off and laid it across the chair near the desk. He swooped past me to the wall near the bathroom door. There was a mini bar in here? Funny how I never noticed it. I shivered as the vanilla poured off of him and tickled its way into my nose as he passed me to pour brandy into a glass. It wasn't like a new fashioned mini bar. It was just a simple wooden table with a few glasses and a glass pitcher of brandy. It kind of reminded me of something Lex Luthor would have around his desk in his mansion.

"Okay, obviously something went down." I commented, coming up beside him. "You're not exactly a brandy drinker. Vodka," A small smile to try and humor him, "yes, but brandy? I don't think so Sam."

Brady, in my opinion, was far worse than Vodka. It reminded me of molasses and I could never drink a small amount without getting sick. So as Sam suck back a half a glass, my eyes widened a little as my stomach lurched.

"Okay, let's try again." I said somewhat annoyingly that he wouldn't just cooperate and tell me what was bugging him. It was his fault I got so mad sometimes I swear. He wouldn't just flat out tell me things; it was like pulling teeth every time I just wanted him to answer me. "Since when have you gulped down brandy like that?"

"Since now, apparently." He went to pour himself more and I put my hand over the glass. Luckily he wasn't drunk yet and stopped before he poured the brownish liquid over my hand.

"How bout this, you tell me what happened and I'll let you drink as much brandy as you like, okay?" It was somewhat of a lie, I wasn't going to let him drink himself to sleep. That pitcher seemed like an optical illusion and I was pretty sure there was more there than just by looking at it. I could already see some of it swirl behind Sam's pretty eyes, alcohol worked fast with him but I knew he could hold his liquor if he really wanted to. I was the lightweight out of Dean and Sam. I didn't have the 'Steel Winchester Drinking' in my DNA.

I think he knew I was lying and that as soon as he told me I'd be taking that pitcher and pouring as much as I could down the sink but nodded and motioned towards the window none the less.

I went towards the window he had been looking through when I had gotten out of the shower and pulled the curtain black, knowing full and well something was horribly wrong when I saw the red and blue lights flash through the lacey material.

"Crap." I said quietly, looking at the police cars and ambulances cluttering the entrance outside. "What happened?"

I heard glass clinking and clattering and closed my eyes against the noises, wanting to push out the fact I was letting Sammy pour another drink.

"What do you think happened?" He asked me, slamming the glass down hard enough that I swear I heard it crack. "I failed again. That's what happened. I was here the whole time and someone died under my watch!"

I turned to Sam letting the curtain slink back into place. The red and blue lights were now flashing gently over his face, making him look extremely angry one moment and then heartbreakingly upset the next. "This isn't your fault." I was so tired of these Winchesters taking things so hard to the chest all the time. "I was here too and it still happened. You can't save everyone. It's impossible."

"You were in the shower, you couldn't hear it." Sam accused, trying to make it look more his fault as he took another sip of brandy. It wasn't his fault, even though it seemed like he wanted it to be. Must have been easier to blame himself than no one at all.

"So since I was in the shower I'm supposed to think that you heard a noise or someone scream and you just sat here and ignored it?" He looked at me, obviously proving my question wrong. "Exactly. So if you had no idea that something was going down, how is it your fault at all?"

Sam shook his head, refusing to use a glass anymore as he took the pitcher with him and sat in the desk chair. Well, it was more like, plopped into the desk chair. For moment I thought he had missed and the thought, 'shit he's going to fall onto the floor' ran through my head. But luckily, he landed on the chair, obviously hurting his back upon impact. I approached him slowly and kneeled down in front of him, trying to gently pry away the pitcher from his hands. He refused to give it to me, taking another large swig.

"We're gonna turn into those damn things, Andy." Sam said gently, small tears making tracks on his face. "It's our destiny isn't it?" He laughed a humorless chuckle that sounded more pained than angry. "Dad thought it was."

"Yeah, well, your dad didn't know what the hell he was talking about. It's too soon to tell Sam. We caught it early, we know what might happen." God it sounded like I was briefing Sam about the cancer him and I might have. And that it wasn't too late to get rid of it. 'Caught it in the early stages,' I remembered a doctor had told my mother. 'We can treat it.' Doctors were liars. But I still used the analogy in my head to try and fuel Sam to believe me. "We can stop it; we can control ourselves."

"But what if this is the way it starts." Sam leaned foreword, his hot alcoholic breath pushing its way to my face. I refused to breathe through my nose, like the alcohol would start affecting me too even though I wasn't drinking it. "We can't save people and then…"

"And then what Sam?" I nearly screamed, grabbing the pitcher out of his hand and throwing it aside. I heard it smash against the side wall near the bathroom and winced when I realized I had done it. I'd worry about it later. "We just start killing people? Picking people off, one by one?"

I stood and went to clean up the mess, knowing I'd be the one to accidently step on the glass later. I grabbed a waste ban near the bathroom and kneeled down to collect the glass and throw it away.

"I let Jessica die." He slurred. I ignored him and continued to push the glass into small piles so I could pick them up. He was slightly tipsy and I stopped trying to counteract things. He wouldn't remember any of it in the morning. He was using anything to blame himself. I swear to God, these damn Winchesters, why did they always have to do that? Especially things that were out of their control. "I let Ava kill her fiancé and disappear…"

Something boiled inside me. "We don't know if Ava did anything." Why was I trying to fight this? Even I knew, without meeting Ava, that she had killed that man.

"It's pretty fucking likely." Sam swore, hitting his feet together as he slumped down in the seat. "I found her wedding ring among the blood."

I shook my head, trying to push the image of blood out of my head, and went to go into the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wipe up the brandy on the floor. I nearly slipped and hit my head against the doorframe, but Sam still remained in his chair, staring out the window and mumbling the list off of what he had done. Now, beyond frustrated, I was angry too. How many people did Sam blame himself for hurting? Did he think this all along or was he just rounding off people in his head because he was suddenly guilty and under brandy's control?

"Maybe the demon wanted you to think that, ya know?" I stood and wringed out the washcloth in the sink and grimaced. "To cause this." I motioned to him and almost smiled as he flipped his hair back. He always reminded me of some type of a model when he did that. "Look…" I said as I approached him. I did so carefully, and it almost broke my heart to do so. This was Sam, for Christ's sake. "Let's wait till we get all the information okay?" I brushed some hair out of his face. "Then we both can spiral downwards, alright?"

He looked up at me and faked a small smile. "Okay."

I wanted to shake my head at him, to tell him he didn't need to be a hardass if he was that upset, that he could frown if he needed to. Even if they were feeling like shit, Dean and Sam would give me these small smiles to make me feel better. They should start worrying about themselves more often and not about me or the world. They wouldn't fall apart as quickly as they did.

"I'm gonna go get you some juice or something." Susan had a little girl, there had to be juice or something healthy for Sam to drink.

"I'll have a strawberry daiquiri." Sam told me, leaning foreword to grab my hand as I went to past him.

I ruffled his hair, letting his disheveled appearance bring a small smile to my face. "Sorry, Sammy, non alcoholic is all that is on the menu tonight."

He groaned and threw my hand away from him and huddled in the chair, leaning his head on his hand. "Coffee."

I nodded and headed towards the door. "Coffee I can do. And don't even think about trying to suck any of that brandy out of the washcloth." I opened the door and closed it, leaning against it for a moment as I listened to Sam inch around and groan.

Handling the fact that Sam might have been somewhat right, however, was something I couldn't do.

O0o0o0o00

I made my way downstairs, knocking on Susan's door for a few moments had done nothing since she was apparently caught up in the commotion outside. Deep down I knew that Sam was somewhat right. This was our second hit and miss. First Ava and now this guy; all within our grasps and yet we couldn't save them. Just like Jessica for Sam and Jason for me. I had to admit that even I had given some thought that Sam might have been right; that John wasn't crazy and an asshole for telling Dean what needed to be done. But I couldn't tell Dean that. I couldn't admit that I was almost thoroughly defeated. I needed to fight this crazy demon shit. If not for myself, then for Dean and to prove John wrong.

I turned the corner near the front desk and hesitated, seeing the blue and red lights still flashing through the windows near the front door. This was wrong. Just because I was comfortable with death didn't mean everyone else was. I'm sure Susan was upset and uncomfortable that this had happened again in her inn and it felt wrong to go outside and ask with a cheery voice, 'can I raid your refrigerator and make coffee for my drunken roommate?'. Well, I mean, I wouldn't be cheery about it, but you get the point.

I sighed and turned back around, leaning against the desk in thought. I could go find the kitchen myself but that was kind of rude. That was like going through someone's else's kitchen, after all Susan and her daughter did live here like it was their own house. But Sam needed the coffee and honestly, I was kind of hungry. I didn't remember really eating much throughout the day.

"Hey." I turned around to see Dean come through the door. His voice was somber but covered it up well as he sounded surprised to see me downstairs. "What are you doing down here?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and went towards him, wanting one of his strong hugs at the moment. I didn't wait to tell him what was wrong, I just kind of threw my arms around his waist and hugged him, the smell of cinnamon washing over my peaks of fear and rotting vanilla and brandy.

He hesitantly put his arms around me, pulling me closer without question. He was waiting for me to tell him why I needed him but when I didn't say anything he kissed my head and asked. "What happened?"

"I heard we lost another guy." I said softly, remembering what Sam had said. "Did you talk to Susan?"

Dean kept me in his arms, but shifted as he ran a open palm along my spine. "Yeah, apparently he hung himself. But get this, he fits the pattern of wanting to take the place down. He worked for the company that bought the place."

I pulled back from him and ran a hand over my face, sighing. "I think you better go check on Sam." I said quietly. Dean was obviously worried upon hearing that and I shook my head, squeezing his waist. "He's fine, just a little smashed. He heard about the guy and didn't exactly take it well."

Dean winced. "Brandy or vodka?"

I smirked. "Brandy."

Dean nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that's bad." He commented, looking at the stairs.

"He thinks he can't save anyone Dean." I told him softly. "And lately…I'm starting to think he might be right. And I mean, if we can't save anyone how are we supposed to save ourselves?" I asked, fear clearly evident in my voice.

I didn't want this to be a full blown chick-flick moment but then I realized that wasn't who Dean was anymore. He rarely said, 'no chick-flick moments'. He was different with me and I felt relaxed to know that I could tell him what was wrong and he'd fix it; even if it meant he'd have to be caught in a mushy/gushy moment.

"Hey," Dean said gently, cupping my face with his hand. "Look at me." I did and swallowed, feeling a hard lump in my throat. "Nothing horrible is going to happen to you when I'm around. You understand me?" He asked, putting his lips to my forehead. "Nothing." He whispered, his lips moving against my skin. I sighed, closing my eyes, wanting to stay in this warm comforting moment forever.

I finally nodded and pulled back, standing on my toes a bit to peck his lips. "Thanks babe."

He nodded and gave me one of his 'panties melting smiles' and squeezed me around my waist. "No problem. I'm gonna go check on 'hard liquor boy' alight? Can you go see if you could get him some coffee or something?"

I nodded. "Yeah sure."

He gave me a quick kiss on my cheek and went to head upstairs. I sighed, watching him go, feeling ten times better.

I didn't believe in God, for obvious reasons, but I believed in Dean. With all my heart. That had to mean something right?

O0000o0o0o00

I decided to follow Dean instead of trying to wait for Susan downstairs. I could wait for her up there and not look like a complete asshole. All this death around the inn and all I wanted was a coffee and some food? Yeah, that's not right at all. I could catch her as she made her way back in or went to her room. It'd be just a quick question and if she didn't want to deal with it, Sam would have to wait until morning to sober up.

I hesitated outside the door, hearing a firm conversation between Dean and Sam.

"Whoa, whoa, sit down Sam. We don't want you taking a header into a desk now." Dean said soothingly, I'm guessing he was sitting Sam back in the chair. It felt weird hovering outside my own room but for some reason it felt wrong to barge in on Dean and Sam. "Now tell me what's going on, what are thinking about getting wasted huh? We're working a case…" Maybe it was even worse to eavesdrop.

"The more people I save, the more I can change. I can change my destiny, Dean!" I rolled my eyes at that and came into the room as I heard Dean mutter that it was time for bed. It was time for me to stop eavesdropping like I was a five year old too.

Dean turned upon hearing me come into the room and sighed, pushing Sam into bed with him struggling all the way.

"Is he okay?" I asked attentively and Dean sighed again, not answering me.

"I need you to watch out for me." Sam slurred, fighting Dean as he tried to put him to bed.

"Yeah. I always do." Dean said emotionless but when he was like that I knew how upset he really was.

"Dean, you want me to try and help?" I asked softly and he shook his head, waving me off.

"No, no, no." Sam interrupted my next question. "You have to watch out for me, all right?" Dean stopped and that and gave Sam a confused look. "For Andy too! And if we ever turn into something that we're not…you have to kill us." I shuddered and Dean just looked at Sam tiredly. "Dean, Dad told you to do it." Sam yelled forcefully, gripping Dean's shoulder. "You have to!"

That broke Dean, just a little, just enough that I could see the small crack where Sam was gripping his shoulder. His lips were trembling like he was holding back on screaming because he knew Sam was drunk and what he was saying was influenced by the alcohol. But that didn't make him any less upset. "Yeah, well, Dad's an ass." He yelled and I winced as Sam recoiled. "He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"No," Sam said brokenly, with tears in his eyes. I knew I shouldn't of walked in one this. "He was right to say it. Who knows what we might become? Even now, everyone around us dies!"

I felt that hard lump in my throat again and felt tears hit my eyelashes as I watched Dean grip Sam's shoulders somewhat painfully if not forcefully. "Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay?" He said that for me as well, I could tell by the way he didn't speak for a moment to let it weigh our heads. "And neither are you two. Come on."

I pulled the covers back so Dean could try and tuck Sammy's body underneath them, but Sam wasn't helping. He kept laying on the sheets, preventing me from pulling them up and over his form. So I worked on taking his shoes off instead. "No, please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."

I looked up at Sam, more tears silently making their way down my cheeks as I watched Dean shake his pale face. "Don't ask that of me." He begged Sam.

"Dean, please. You have to promise me."

His shoes slumped to the ground and Dean shook his head. "I promise." He muttered, angry and heartbroken.

Sam reached up and clutched Dean's face, muttering a lot of thank you's. Dean angrily pushed him away and tucked him into bed. As soon as Sam hit the pillow he rolled over and started snoring. I pulled the covers up over Sam as Dean went to sit on our bed, rubbing a hand over his face.

I went to sit next to him, starting to gently pull his jacket off his shoulders. He tried to push me off and I shushed him, leaning up to kiss his head. "Let me do this." I said gently and he nodded. I continued to pull his jacket off, along with his long sleeved button down and t-shirt.

He was sitting in his jeans now, bare chest shining against the moonlight pouring through the room.

"You didn't have to say that, ya know." I told him quietly, moving behind him to rub his tense shoulders.

Dean sighed but I wasn't sure if it was because he was annoyed with my question or because he was beginning to relax from my massaging.

"Andy, he's wasted, you know how many things he's not going to remember tomorrow?" Dean asked me tiredly, leaning back into my hands.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that." I said and rubbed my hands up and down his muscular arms before I went back to his shoulders. "You have to deal with too many things."

"God," He said after a few moments of silence. "Why do you have to make that feel so good?" I wasn't sure whether ignoring my previous statement was more annoying or hurtful.

I decided if he didn't want to talk about what happened with Sam and about what he had promised I wouldn't press it. A tired, angry Dean was not an easy thing to deal with. So I avoided it like the conversation he didn't want to have.

"It's one of my many talents." I said with a smile and kissed the back of his head.

"Oh yeah?" The question assured me that one of his eyebrows were arched. He turned slightly and wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to sit on his lap. "What other talents you got in making me feel good?" He asked, a full cocky grin set in place.

I ran a hand over his belt buckle and he smiled as I shifted. "Would you like to find out?" I saw Dean's mouth twitch and he let out a yawn, bringing his fist up to cover his mouth. I sat back and rubbed the sides of his neck instead of going lower. "Or would you like to sleep?" I asked, a small laugh escaping me as I saw him trying to fight off another yawn. "You that tired?"

He shrugged and hoisted me up and off of him, sliding down his jeans and going through our bag. "You wearing my sweats?" He asked me.

I smiled sheepishly and started to pull down the bed sheets. "Sorry?"

Dean shook his head, letting out a smirk. "Unbelievable. You know, you do have clothes to wear. This bag doesn't weigh three tons because of my t-shirts."

I shrugged. "I like wearing your clothes. They make me feel warm." He shook his head and went to look through the bag again. "You want me to take them off?"

"No. Just don't expect this to become a habit. We're not clothes trading every once and a while. I refuse to wear your underwear."

I giggled, picturing Dean in lace panties. "I'm sure they'd comfort and support you quite nicely." I barely got that sentence out as my voice was drowned in laughs. Dean smiled and rolled his eyes but motioned me to be quiet cause Sammy was sleeping. And we all knew he'd be up in a few hours when his stomach reacted with the brandy.

I knew Dean was only teasing about me wearing the clothes. He'd never admit it but I knew he liked me wearing his things. It made him feel like he was claiming me. So I rejected to mention who's shirt this was. I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I trailed my mouth down his back, leaving small kisses that warmed my lips as they touched his hot skin.

"Just sleep in this." I said suggestively, squeezing him around his stomach and pushed my nose into his back. I felt his hands come up and rub over my arms around his front and he leaned his head down as he pulled me in front of him again.

"What if I get cold?" He asked.

I ran my fingers over the elastic of his boxers, dipping my thumb lower and across his skin gaining a smile from him. "Then you wake me up and see what I can do about that."

Dean picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carried me to the bed. "Sounds like a plan."

He laid down on his pillow and I snuggled near him as he pulled the covers up over my shoulders. I felt him put an arm around my waist and kiss my nose as he drew me nearer. I was asleep in a matter of seconds.

O0o000o0o0

Mass of chains. Everywhere. It looked like a pit filled with green and grey smoke. Nothing compared to what hell should have looked like. There was screaming. Screaming so loud I thought my eardrums would break. But it wasn't the screaming that made my chest hurt. It was that it was Dean and that he was screaming for me and Sam.

Heart wrenching, chilling, painful shrieks. I've never heard Dean screech like that. He was in pain and the chains were clanking as I looked for him.

"Help!" Dean scream. "Sam! Andy!"

But I couldn't find him. Anywhere. The chains were screaming too; their own metal noises covering up Dean's pleas for help.

This was hell. It had to be. Dean's screams were far too petrified for anything on earth to scare him.

"Andy!!"

O0o00o0o0o

My eyes jolted open, sweat pouring down my forehead as I tried to remember where I was. Once I was sure I was in bed and not some seventh circle of hell, I calmed slightly but then peaked again when I remembered Dean. I turned sharply making him shift in sleep but he didn't wake up. His face was calm and I ran my fingers over his eyes gently. It was a dream. A fucking sick and twisted nightmare. Dean was here, with me and was safe. I pulled back slightly and his arm tightened around my waist protectively just to prove my point. Like his chest rising and falling against my own wasn't enough of an assurance. I felt sobs build in my chest as I remembered his screams. I had never heard him so scared like that and I didn't think I could handle it again if I heard him.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, shaking him slightly to wake him. I felt horrible doing so, seeing as how he was so tired when he had laid down with me but I needed to hear his voice, look into his soft hazel eyes. That would assure me he was alive and it'd stop my body from shaking.

"Dean?" I asked him, my voice breaking as I spoke again. "Dean, could you wake up for a minute?"

Dean groaned and shifted, opening his eyes to look at me. "Wha—" I guess his eyes settled on how upset I was and leaned up on his elbow. "What wrong?"

"I had a nightmare." I said, sitting up as well. I was trying to keep my voice down because I was afraid of waking Sam. "It was about you."

He ran a hand down my shoulder. "Jesus, you're shaking baby." He pulled one of the sheets up around my shoulders and drew it close.

"You were screaming," I told him, making him stop and look at me. "You were screaming for help and I couldn't do anything." I said, tears pouring down my face. "I couldn't help you." I was blubbering by that point, not being able to be quiet anymore.

Dean drew me close to him and pulled me onto his lap. He rocked me gently and held my head to his chest even though my tears were starting to soak him. "Hey, I'm okay." He whispered in my hair, trying to calm down my tears. "I'm right here, it was just a dream."

He had no idea how real it felt, how I still heard his screams echo in my ears. "It was horrible Dean."

"I know, I know. Breathe sweetheart," Dean crooned. "Just breathe."

He knew? He didn't know anything. He had no idea how helpless I felt. How my heart felt like it had been squeezed through a juicer when I had that dream. What if this was a prophecy dream? What if this was supposed to come true? I gripped my arms around his waist and buried my head in his shoulder. I couldn't lose him. I couldn't.

"No. You don't know!" My hiccupping sobs were vibrating against his chest and he was rocking me quicker now, pushing his hands into my back to relieve tense muscles. He was trying the nicest way he knew to calm me down and quiet my voice. I didn't want Sam waking up either or Susan to come knocking thinking something was wrong. "You don't know." I said more calmly, taking a deep breath. I pulled back from him to look him in the eyes. His eyes softened, like he was guilty he had been trying to get me to be quiet. "I couldn't save you." Great, now I sounded like Sam and I watched Dean run a hand over his face, obviously not ready for this conversation all over again. I just shook my head and looked over at Sam's sleeping form. He was all curled up in the sheets, his shirt all the way up his back showing a view of his belt and boxers. I nearly smiled; he reminded me of a toddler. "Why can't I save anyone?" I asked; mostly to myself and more tears coursed down the tear tracks on my cheeks, making them more prominent and shiny against the moonlight.

Dean sighed, obviously not knowing how to answer the question. He cupped my face in both of his hands and drew me close to kiss my forehead and then my lips.

"You wanna head back to sleep? If you don't I'll stay up with you."

I shifted my eyes to his as I he continued to hold my face in his hands. He was tired; so unbelievably tired all the time. His life never slept. I shook my head, pushing him back down on the bed.

"I'm okay." I told him; even though I could hardly convince myself let alone Dean. But he laid down, not arguing, wanting to sleep. He pulled me to lay on his chest and tucked me under the sheets. He wrapped both of his strong arms protectively around me and rested his chin on my head.

He was swaying from side the side for the first few moments we had been laying there and then he'd start periodically kissing my head but nothing was calming me. Which was surprising. Usually when one of these nightmares hit, Dean knew how to make it all better. But not this time. This time I was freaked and his screams were staying with me. Nothing was helping. Eventually I just closed my eyes, rubbing my face into the warmth of his chest, knowing he wanted to sleep and that he wouldn't close his eyes without knowing I was okay. So I shut my eyes; tight. Like it'd help block out the screams and the noise of the ceiling fan, and the ragged breathing in my chest, and Sammy whimpering in his drunken sleep, and Dean's fucking murmuring's against my hair. Everything. I wanted to stop everything. I clenched the sheets and sighed against Dean's chest, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around me. Right now all I could do was close my eyes and let Dean get some rest.

O000o0o0o0o0

I think I got around four hours sleep before Sam started to stir in his bed. I leaned over Dean, careful not to wake him, as I opened his phone. He had a stupid woman in a bikini with the calendar as his wallpaper and I rolled my eyes, looking at the top right hand corner for the time. I think I had to look at it twice before my brain registered it was nine AM. I shook my head, putting the phone back where it was and resting my head back over Dean's heart. It was slow and the beats were loud and soft. Just like they were supposed to be when someone was asleep. I hated when I could tell his heart was beating so fast that he could have some type of heart attack. I think the Winchesters were prone to die that way; if some beasty didn't get them first. That's the only normal way they could go, with their heart beating eight thousand miles a minute. I threw my arm over his waist and snuggled closer to him, causing him to shift and mumble in his sleep. I leaned up on my chin to kiss the skin above his heart a few times, praying to God it stayed healthy and beating. Unlike my dream.

Sam groaned, I think falling out of bed. I raised my head a little to see him literally crawling to the bathroom and I sighed, watching him a moment before I crawled out of Dean's embrace to help him. I should have just let him inch away across the floor, most likely hitting his head off the door jam and the tub as he made it into the bathroom. But something told me his stomach would only put up with some bullshit before it erupted; whether a toilet was in reach or not. And I was so not cleaning up after him.

I reached Sam as he made it to the bathroom, gently lifting my hands up under his arms to pull him to his feet.

"Come on, Sam." I hushed, pulling him over to the toilet and closing the door so he wouldn't wake Dean. Not all of us had been sleeping in a drunken stupor.

As soon as I turned the light on, making me wish I had kept it off just so I wouldn't have to watch him, he heaved into the toilet. I winced, kneeling down next to him and rubbed his back in soothing circles. I tried to ignore the putrid smells of old brandy, which now smelled just like rubbing alcohol, and whatever food Sam had eaten earlier that day. He'd definitely need something in his stomach after he was done here, and I for one was not going back to sleep. Hell, maybe I'd avoid that forever. He heaved maybe four times before he was finished and he was so weak that he couldn't even extend his arm to flush the toilet. I leaned him back against the cool tub and let him rest there.

"I got it Sam." I flushed the toilet for him and grabbed a washcloth near the end of the sink. I put it under the faucet of cold water and soaked it a moment, looking at his disheveled form. He looked extremely tired and sweaty. Poor thing. I knew what it felt like to pull an all nighter like that and wake up feeling nauseous and disgusting. I think Dean rarely woke up from booze like that; damn him. He claimed he was too pretty to wake up looking like that. I rolled my eyes and the oldest Winchester. It was only because he cold hold his liquor better than Sam and I could, otherwise he'd always be in the bathroom after drinking.

"You okay?" I asked after a few moments of rubbing the cold cloth over his face, catching the sweat beads still forming over his forehead. He had closed his eyes and leaned into the cloth, slightly moaning from the headache I'm guessing that was forming.

"Yeah." He managed to mutter; squinting his eyes.

"You want me to turn the light off?" I knew a migraine must have been settling in behind his eyes and I didn't want to make anything worse. But he shook his head and took the cloth from me, putting it behind his neck as he leaned against the tub.

"Did I wake you?" He asked me, gently raising his eyes to look in mine. I sat in front of him, my knees hurting from kneeling against the tile. I shrugged, moving pieces of wet hair out of his eyes.

"I was already awake. I woke up a few minutes prior to this."

Sam coughed, shutting his eyes again. "Lucky me."

"Well, if I wouldn't have gotten up you would have went all over the floor near your bed." I pointed out and Sam shrugged, only managing to get one shoulder to move.

"I'd be less embarrassed that way."

I chuckled. "Since when are you embarrassed in front of me?" I asked him gently, giving him a warm smile.

He tried to give one back but it was tired looking. "Since I tossed my cookies in front of you."

I wrinkled my nose. "It smelled nothing of cookies Sam."

I could literally see Sam's stomach lurch, causing him to let out a cross between a dry heave and a groan. "Please don't remind me." After a few moments of gaining control over his stomach he looked at me again, touching my leg to get my attention. "Why are you up?"

I shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, right. You have a nightmare?" I looked at him somewhat surprised and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Andy, I know that look by now. It's been on my face after my nightmares as well."

"And that look would be?"

He squeezed my knee. "You're scared." I swallowed, looking at my hands playing with the bottom of the stupid t-shirt I had on. There was no use avoiding it, Sam already knew. I damned the Winchesters for knowing every single expression I gave and they probably swore at me for knowing theirs. "Do you want me to get Dean?" he asked gently.

I laughed at that. First of all, he could barely stand let alone coordinately walk over to Dean's bed to wake him. Secondly, why couldn't I talk to Sam about it? Was that a rule now? You start dating someone's brother and you're not allowed to talk to the other one?

"No." I whispered softly. "Unless, I can't talk to you about it?" Sam shifted his hand off my knee and leaned his back fully against the tub. He looked at me square in the eyes; like that was some assurance I had his full attention. I nodded and continued to play with the end of my t-shirt and maybe opened my mouth six or seven times, words never breaching. I didn't honestly know what to say. I didn't fully understand what the dream was about.

Sam sighed, not impatient or anything; just waiting. He took the washcloth off his neck and laid it out on the side of the tub to dry. I'm guessing he felt better. "You know, you don't have to—"

"It was about Dean." I said, cutting him off. He stopped and narrowed his eyes like he didn't believe me. I took a short breath, hoping to keep the little composure I had. "I think he was…dying Sam."

His eyes were alarmed even though he was trying to keep his face a bit neutral, calm even. "Was it a vision?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure, I mean, haven't I been having those during the day now?"

"Only once." It sounded like he was accusing me, like he wanted it to be a vision in nightmare form.

"So? That doesn't mean the first nightmare I have is a vision!" I said, my voice wounded and scared. Maybe I was misjudging it because it was Dean. Maybe it was a vision and I refused to see it as such. But I could have been right. Everyone had nightmares and it could have been possible that it was just an every day normal nightmare. But something in the pit of my stomach said different. Sam and I were everything but normal.

I could see Sam start to back down on fighting with me on this conversation before my voice reached a new point of hysterics. I sniffed and looked away from him, pushing my stupid hair out of my face. It was then I felt him hold both my shoulders and pull me into a small embrace. For once I didn't fight it; I didn't want to, I just wanted my best friend to hug me.

"We'll figure this out, I promise." Sam whispered, rubbing my back gently before he let go. That was a perfect Sam Winchester hug. I could tell by the warm pit swirling in my stomach and the small percent of safeness I instantly felt afterwards.

I smiled, thanking him. I wasn't really sure how to say, 'I'm glad you're back to hugging me and not acting as if I'm a relationship leper.' So I didn't and just sighed, playfully punching his right shoulder. "Wanna see if we can score some coffee?"

Sam just smiled.

O00o0o0o0o0

I ended up leaving my pajama's on and slipped on some tennis shoes as Sam got changed in the bathroom. He still smelled and looked pretty off so I suggested a shower. When he refused to, and promised to get one as soon as he had some coffee in him, I decided not to argue. I knew he was going to load up on the cologne to cover up the brandy that seemed to be seeping through his pores. I shrugged, sitting next to Dean as Sam got dressed, whatever floats your sailor I suppose.

I sighed, running a gentle hand through Dean's short spiked hair. He turned into my hand, obviously missing the warmth. I guess I should write him a note so he's not so alarmed when he wakes up. Especially since I had that nightmare about him. So I got up and left a long kiss on his forehead before I headed over to the desk to scribble down a note on one of the Inn's notepads.

Hey,
I couldn't sleep, so Sam and I went down to get some coffee.
Don't scowl…I didn't want to wake you. When's the last time you got a good night sleep?

Love you,
Andy

I smiled at the note as I laid it out on my pillow, knowing full and well there would be a frown and a scowl on Dean's face as he read it. I kissed Dean again and pulled the covers up over his chest and greeted Sam as he came out adjusting his black sweatshirt.

"How come you take longer than me just to put on that?" I asked, referring to his jeans and sweatshirt.

He smiled, but it was somewhat tight. "Bite me."

I grinned and rolled my eyes as he passed me to head downstairs. "Sorry, I'm afraid my teeth and any other part of my mouth for that matter are Deans and Deans alone."

O0o0o0o0o00o

"Score." I muttered, finding my way into a huge kitchen. There was some food laid out for guests, I'm guessing this place was into B&B's, but I was really only interested in the coffee. I poured some in the mugs provided and took a hearty sip, nearly moaning.

Sam smiled, pouring his own but adding sugar and cream. "Since when are you a black coffee drinker?"

I looked into the mug, almost laughing. "Since now? I don't know. Dean always makes coffee for me half the time. He started drinking it like this and I tasted it, decided I liked it I guess."

Sam chuckled and took a sip of his own. "You two are like conjoined twins."

I grimaced. "Please don't relate us."

Sam smiled, taking an end of the pieces of bacon on the table. He popped it into his mouth and shrugged. "Not half bad."

"Takes a lot to just screw up bacon."

"You'd be suspired."

"My mom could never make waffles…but she could make bacon." I said with a smile.

Sam rolled his eyes and bumped his hip against mine. "Cooking must run in the family huh?"

I giggled, shoving him back. "Shut up!" We were silent for a moment and then I sighed, looking at Sam. "So what do you think? Spirit or hoodoo?"

Sam shrugged, starting to walk into the main lobby, which looked like a big dining room. There was a fireplace and coffee table with four couches. I scrunched my nose; for some reason it reminded me of a funeral home. I shook my head; that's pretty bad. I saw the millions of pictures on the mantel and went to take a look.

"Wow." I said, more to myself than to Sam. Even though he was standing right next to me. "Look at all these photos." You could definitely tell they were from different eras as well. Some were sepia colored while others stained the paper a nice black and white. There was even one with Susan and Tyler; full of life and Technicolor.

"Look at this." I said, pointing out a photo to Sam. "Who is that?" I asked.

Sam leaned his face in to look at the photos. I'm guessing the photo was taken in the same room as we were in now, the carpet matched anyways. There was an arm chair seated in the middle of the room with a girl around fifteen years old. Next to her was a young black woman, wearing a necklace with a quincunx symbol.

"That's Susan's mother, Rose, when she was a little girl."

I gasped, turning around seeing Sherwin standing behind us. Jesus…lurk much? Sam seemed unfazed and I rolled my eyes at being the only one with the ability of being scared easily. Whatever.

"Who's that with her?" Sam asked, referring to the black woman.

Sherwin shifted, adjusting his black tie. "That's her nanny, Marie. She looked after Rose more than her own mother."

I pulled on Sam's sleeve and he nodded, already telling me he had saw the quincunx. We nodded at Sherwin and took our mugs of coffee upstairs. Look's like we had our bet on hoodoo.

O0oo0o0o0

I quietly opened the door in case Dean was still asleep, but then when Sam pushed me to head in a little faster I nodded and pushed the door open. Sam was right, we needed to wake Dean anyways. As I entered the room however Dean was already awake. He was sitting up against the headboard and reading my note, a smirk on his face. I smiled, seeing his ruffled bed hair. God. He looked so unbelievably adorable. Like a little hamster or something. It made me put my mug down on the desk and hurriedly run towards the bed.

He chuckled, watching me dive for the bed and for him and opened his arms, inviting me into the warmth of his chest as I collided with him. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me lovingly and I leaned up to kiss his chin.

"Gross." Sam grimaced and I turned to glare at him.

Dean hooked a finger underneath my chin, pulling my lips to his. After a short, sweet kiss he asked me, "Didn't get any more sleep hmm?"

Knew that was coming. And from how groggy his voice was it didn't sound like he had either. "Um, maybe two or three more hours after…my um, nightmare."

He squeezed me a little tighter upon hearing my voice shake ever so slightly. I shook my head and leaned my head down on his chest, sucking up all the warmth his cinnamon coated skin could bring me. I left a trail of kisses on his shoulder and collar bone and I felt his breathing against my hair as his nose and lips rested against my head.

"Hey, it turns out when Grandma Rose was a kid, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace." Sam said after a moment. It made me shudder to think he had been watching us, but I guess, what could you do? There was only so much time you could bullshit by pretending you had 'busy work'. Plus, we did have some kind of lead on the case.

"So, you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Dean asked, letting his lips run over my head.

I nodded, bucking my chin against his pecs. "Yes, I do."

Dean smiled and kissed my forehead. "All right. I think it's time we talk to Rose, then."

Sam nodded and I watched him head into the bathroom for that shower he had been talking about earlier.

"Damn it," Dean said, glancing at the bathroom door. "I was just about to do that."

I shrugged, running a hand over his stomach. "All you need is some gel. You smell fine." I said with a smile, pushing my nose to his chest and kissing his skin. He chuckled, making his muscles push me gently up and down.

Dean ran his hand through my hair and sighed. "Is that so?" He asked with a smile.

"Unless you'd rather I get off for you to hustle Sam out of the bathroom…" I trailed off, leaving him with the option as I pulled myself from him. Dean suddenly hooked his arm around my waist before one foot could hit the floor and pulled me back against his chest. He whipped the covers over our heads and I giggled as I snuggled close to him under the sheets.

"We're in luck babe," Dean said softly, kissing my cheek and then my nose as hands went roaming. "Sammy takes a hell of a long shower."

O00o0o0o0o

Even though I hadn't needed a shower, I got one with Dean and got dressed so we could head out to see Rose. I smiled, pushing my hair back as we headed down the hallway. It wasn't like I actually bathed during that shower anyways so, what did it matter?

"Hey, daydreamer." Dean smirked, pinching my backside, making me squirm and pay attention.

"What?" I asked, looking from Dean to Sam.

Wow, okay. Dean should have known I was going to be like this after I got out of the shower with him. Coherent thoughts could just not happen.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head and kissing my cheek. "Lock pick?" He asked, motioning to the door.

Sam, rolled his eyes and motioned for me to hurry up and glanced at the stairs. "It's not like we're standing here just so Dean can grab your ass."

I rolled my eyes and handed him the lock pick to work on Susan's door. Dean grinned at me and I smiled goofily, leaning into him to kiss his mouth. Everything was still soft and fuzzy, like that damn shower and Dean's hands, according to me. And Dean, I glanced at him and he swayed his hips against my own with a solid grin, Dean was still just plain horny.

"Got it." Sam muttered, handing the lock pick kit back to me and I slipped it in my back pocket. Dean gently closed the door after us and went past Susan's room, looking for the attic steps that, I'm guessing, held Rose's room.

We finally found the attic steps and slowly ascended them. I nearly giggled, causing both Winchester boys to look back at me.

"Care to share?" Sam asked, seeming extremely un-amused at the moment. There must have been a horny formula in the suds from the shower, because Dean was smiling at me.

"Guys, we're covert ops up the stairs like there's a demon. You know how old this woman is? There is no way that's she's gonna get the drop on us."

Dean smirked, looking up at Sam. "She's got a point Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned, heading back on up the stairs, muttering something about how Dean and I sharing the same brain. That would explain why both of us were still extremely horny; our one brain was sharing downstairs mode. We approached a lady at the top of the stairs and a chill ran over my spine as I saw she was in a lone wheelchair in the middle of the room. Something felt very wrong about this and I couldn't shake this odd feeling. It was cold, like freezing in that room. I swear if I blew hard enough I'd get puffs of carbon dioxide like you did in the winter. That usually alerted a spirit; but we were dealing with hoodoo right? Maybe I just felt wrong being in here when I knew we shouldn't have been. But it wasn't like we never went snooping where we didn't belong. The Winchesters and I practically made an oath since birth that said we solemnly swore to be up to no good.

Nevertheless, I snaked my hand into Dean's, leaning into him as we approached the woman. He could tell I was cold and pulled me against him, running a cupped hand along my arm trying to create some type of warmth as Sam started talking to Rose.

"Hi, Mrs. Thompson. We're not here to hurt you, it's okay. We…Rose?" Sam asked. He shook his head and backed up, looking at Dean and I. "This woman's had a stroke." He told us and I scrunched my eyes at the woman.

"Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on. You've gotta mix herbs and chant and build an altar."

"So, it can't be Rose. Heck, maybe it's not even hoodoo." Sam said, scoffing.

"I felt cold as soon as we came in here. Maybe it's a spirit?"

Dean was just staring at the woman. "You know, she could be faking."

I chuckled slightly, looking at the poor old woman. "Yeah, what do you wanna do? Poke her with a stick?" Dean seemed to nod, contemplating it. I smacked him upside the head making him recoil and glare at me, rubbing the sore spot. "You're not gonna poke her with a stick!"

Suddenly the floor creaked and all of us turned to look at a very shocked Susan standing in the doorway. "What the hell? What are you doing in here?" She asked us, running past us to check on her mother.

We honestly hadn't planned this well. We shouldn't have been up here all at once. We tried explaining, all at once, and I rolled my eyes finally cutting my voice off. Susan was pissed. We weren't going to get through to her by reasoning.

"I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." She said coldly, rubbing her mother's back.

Sam, Dean and I looked at each other. What else could we do? We left.

O0o0oo0o0o0

"Guys, we can't just leave!" I yelled as Dean and Sam threw the rest of the bags into the trunk.

"We were made Andy; we'll come back later tonight." Dean insisted and I sighed, looking back at the Inn.

"What if something happens between now and then? I won't be able to forgive myself if something happens to that little girl." I mumbled, making Dean turn around and look at me. He shook his head and I looked away, running my hands over my arms as the rainy cold wind swept through the trees.

He sighed, placing his leather jacket over my shoulders. "What do you suppose we do? She threatened the cops on our asses."

I shrugged, looking at Sam and slid my hands through the sleeves of the jacket. Dean was right; even if one of us stayed we run the risk of cops tagging us.

"She probably heard the stick comment." I said dryly. "That's why she's so mad." I said, even though I knew that wasn't the reason.

Sam sighed, now looking back at the Inn as well. I knew the child comment had gotten to him and I thanked God someone was listening today. "What do you want to do?"

Dean closed the trunk, watching me stick my hands into the warmth of the leather jacket pockets. "I wanna save someone," I said quietly. "For once."

And how could you argue with that?

O0o00o0

We all rounded the corner and went to go back inside to explain something to Susan. What? We had no idea. We figured we'd tell her something around the truth but then again, people aren't always very happy when they ask for the truth and then get it. Especially when the truth has to do with hoodoo and spirits.

I stopped short, causing Dean and Sam to run into the back of me.

"Jesus Andy. Turn your freaking blinkers on." Dean complained and I rolled my eyes, looking at the thing that stropped me.

"Are those supposed to be doing that?" I asked Dean and Sam. They turned their heads and looked at a merry-go-round spinning damn near off its axel and the swings bouncing crazily out of control. It was like a miniature hurricane had opened up on the ground.

I glanced to my left and took off in a run before I actually knew what I was doing. My body was pushing through so much adrenaline at the moment that it seemed like the right thing to do, especially when the car with no driver lurched forward and Susan stood still. I wasn't sure whether I knew something bad was going to happen or whether I saw the car before I ran. I figured it didn't matter. I took off running and collided my body against Susan's, pushing her to the ground as the car barely missed us.

I grunted, feeling my shoulder collide with the muddy, cold and hard ground. My first thought was, 'oh shit. Dean's leather jacket.' The second was about Susan.

"You okay?" I asked her as Sam and Dean approached, Dean helping me up as Sam helped Susan.

She nodded at me as Dean ushered us to the front door. "I think so."

"Come on, come on. Let's get inside." Dean moved us and I tried hurrying around the car before it threw itself into reverse or something. I rubbed my shoulder and it ached against my hand. Stupid fucking ground.

"You okay?" Dean asked me as Sam led Susan into the kitchen, Dean closing the big wooden front door behind him.

I nodded, rubbing my shoulder. "Yeah, didn't dislocate anything." I said with a wry smile. "Shit." I hissed, looking at the mud. "M'sorry."

Dean shook his head, running his hand down my hair as we followed Sam and Susan. "Don't even worry about it. Nice save babe." He gave me a proud smile, which made me feel amazing.

I smiled back shyly and kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

When we entered the kitchen Susan was asking Sam to get her some brandy out of one of the cupboards. Sam nearly laughed and I shook my head, knowing he knew the feeling.

"What the hell happened out there?" Susan asked, for some reason looking directly at me as Sam poured her some brandy in a mug.

"You want the truth?" Dean asked attentively, taking over and reaching down to brush his fingers against my own. Susan rolled her eyes in response and took a sip of her brandy. "Well, at first, we thought it was some sort of a hoodoo curse. But that out there? That was definitely a spirit."

"You're insane." She deducted quite calmly and it almost made me laugh.

I nodded and shrugged. "Oh, it's been said. With much more of a colorful vocabulary then you used."

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this. But we need to know when your mother had the stroke." Sam pushed and Susan hesitated for a moment, which made me think she had to think about it.

"About a month ago." She stuttered.

"Right before the killings began." I said thoughtfully, looking towards Sam and Dean. "She was using the five-spot urns to ward off a spirit."

"Right. Until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore." Dean added. Now the whole time I watched him talk about Rose I could only imagine him poking her with a stick. I tried not to let that completely fill my brain process because I'd break out in laughter if I dwelled on it too long. I shook my head and leaned into Dean, trying to tune in back to the conversation.

Susan was denying what we were trying to tell her, again. Why the fuck did everyone have to be so one sided all the time? Unbelievable. I knew this woman would be kissing all of our asses once we got rid of this spirit. Even though she didn't believe anything was even haunting her right now.

"Alright, beside the point," I said frustratingly. Hadn't I saved this woman from a car that was moving without a driver? "You need to clear everybody out of here –- your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone…" I counted off everyone in my head.

"Um…I only have one daughter." Susan interrupted me and I exchanged a glance with Dean.

"One?" I asked. "I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie."

"Maggie's imaginary." Susan informed us and suddenly I felt incredibly stupid. I knew something had been up, especially after the cold air had hit me in the attic.

"Where's Tyler?" Sam asked urgently.

Oo00o0o0o

Susan ran up to her bedroom, searching for Tyler and screaming out her name. Unfortunately, all we found were those creepy dolls broken into pieces on the ground. We looked around the upstairs for her but nothing. Finally, Sam asked something that I felt like we should have asked eons ago. Did Susan know anyone by the name of Maggie that died? Suddenly, it was like a chain of light bulbs. Her mother's sister was named Margret and she died here when she was little…drowned in the pool.

We sprinted to the pool house, Dean and Sam getting there first and trying to break the door. But it wouldn't budge. "Is there another entrance?" I asked a flustered Susan and she stuttered a yes.

"Out back." She gasped and screamed Tyler's name as she saw her daughter through the window's of the glass door. She plunged off the edge of the balcony and into the deep end, getting tangled in the tarp. The more her weight pushed the tarp down the more water flooded it and Tyler was strangling in it's grasp.

"Oh God." I pulled on Dean. "Come on we'll take the back."

I ran off before Dean could follow and heard him telling Sam to keep working. I got to the back door first, ramming the thing with one of my shoulders. I thought I broke my collar bone.

"Son of a bitch!" I screamed, bending at the waist and holding my shoulder. "What the hell is that thing made out of? Metal?"

Dean came up behind me and pulled me to the side. He tried using his leg to kick the door done but it ended up shuttering and knocking him back a step. He looked at the door a moment and swore.

"Yeah, exactly." I groaned, clutching my shoulder. "Try again."

Dean kicked with more force this time, managing to jar it open. He kicked it one final time and it splintered, tearing a little wood apart form the doorframe. When we ran in we damn near slipped on the pool deck with our boots being wet with mud. I hesitated, not wanting to fall and watched Sam clutch Tyler's body in the pool. My heart felt lighter. He had gotten her. There was still hope. Susan came running down the stairs from the top entrance; I looked up at the balcony. Sam had dove in from there? Major Olympic points Sam.

"Oh, thank God! Thank God!" Susan cried, holding Tyler in her arms. I smiled slightly, watching the little girl cough and clutch her mother.

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" Dean asked her gently, trying hard not to pry but needing to know.

Tyler looked up for a moment and shook her head. "No, she's gone."

Yeah, that was a little apparent. But gone where?

O0o0o0o0o0

Unfortunately, when we piled back into the Inn, Rose was found dead. I'm sure everyone was getting a weird, something wasn't right vibe. But as I looked at Susan, holding Tyler in her arms, I couldn't say that I wasn't happy with how things turned out. Sam and Dean made sure everything was secure in the car and we approached Susan and Tyler.

"Susan, I'm sorry." Sam apologized, for something that yet again was not his fault.

"God, you have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything." Susan said thankfully and Sam smiled, obviously touched.

"Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?" Dean asked the girl sweetly and she shook her head no, leaning into her mom shyly.

"I'm sure. I'd see her."

I smiled at her and as Susan was thanking Sam again, Tyler approached me and grabbed onto Dean's jacket to grab my attention.

I kneeled, careful not to dip Dean's jacket into mud. "What is it, sweetheart?" I asked her and before I knew it she was throwing herself into my arms, giving me a strong hug around my neck. I smiled and attentively patted her back, ruffling her hair as she pulled back.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" I told her and she nodded.

"Bye Andy." She said and then smiled goofily at Dean.

I smiled as I stood up and joined hands with him. I leaned over to whisper something in his ear. "She thinks you're cute."

Dean smirked and then bent down to Tyler's level. "What about me? No hugs?"

Tyler smiled shyly and leaned into her mother. Her mother urged her to hug Dean and I gigged slightly as I watched the little girl approach Dean to give him a hug. I could feel him smile and I rubbed his back as the hug ended and he stood back up again.

"I love you." I whispered and he smiled, roping an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

"Likewise." He said, kissing my head. Sam followed us shortly as we headed back to the car. I rubbed my shoulder, it still feeling a little tense from all the action it got today.

"Do we still have those ice pack thingies?" I asked Dean as he opened the backseat door for me.

"Your shoulder hurt?" I nodded, taking off the leather jacket to lay in the back seat.

"Yeah, its pretty bad. Why can't my entire body get the same amount of pain ya know? Like equal dosage? I'm so tired of having an extreme pain in only my shoulder or only in my ankle…"

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes. "So, what you're trying to say and correct me if I'm wrong, you'd rather be in extreme pain everywhere all at once?"

I giggled, getting in the car. "You knew what I meant."

Dean sighed and leaned against the door. "Yeah, I know. Would me sitting in the back with you make you feel better?" I nodded and he smiled, getting in and adjusting himself against the backseat. I leaned my good shoulder against his chest, snuggling into his t-shirted warmth.

He kissed my forehead and ran his hand over my thigh as Sam got in the drivers seat. "Good job today Sammy," He nudged his shoulder, making my head move. "Both of you."

I yawned, cuddling into his embrace. "Yeah, thanks."

"Feels good to get back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean asked and I knew he had been talking to Sam because I closed my eyes, welcoming as much sleep as I could get.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean."

I think my heart froze. Actually, I think Dean and mine both froze at the same time. "We talked about a lot of things last night."

Sam sighed, taking the keys and starting the car. "You know what I mean."

Dean scoffed. "You were wasted."

"But you weren't." And then my heart sank. Like the freaking Titanic, breaking into two before it reached the bottom. "And you promised."

Dean didn't even get a second word in because Sam ended the conversation, he put the car in gear, bringing the Impala to life with a roar of the engine and turned the music on. It wasn't blasting but it was loud enough that no one could hear each other if they spoke normally.

I sighed, leaning my head up to see if Dean was okay. He was blankly staring out the window and I raised my hand to rub his cheek as Sam pulled out of the Inn parking lot. He turned into my hand and gave me a weak smile that was supposed to convince me he was okay. He took the hand from my face and squeezed it within his own, bringing it down to set on his lap. Dean kissed my forehead, muttering something against my skin.

I'm guessing it was along the lines of, 'get some sleep.'

So I nodded and laid my head back down on his shoulder, closing my eyes against his neck. His scent pacified my dreams. Or at least I hope it would.

o0o0o0o0o0o

:D