Disclaimer: I don't have any connections or claims to the CW's Supernatural. I do indeed though, have these awesomely fun adventures. Now, to find the SPN fax number…and find a crossroads…

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews on the previous chapter, I love to use them as ways to get to know the readers and hone in on what you guys want to read. Cause I aim to please!

Also, thanks for not just gutting my girl Gloria, she'll be a help to Dean without complicating him, like so many other female characters do. I'll keep an eye on her, I swear!

Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia

Gloria heaved him up the few steps and dragged him into the small cabin, kicking the door shut behind them. Luckily, it didn't look like many of the cabins were occupied yet and most people weren't ready to start their weekends at 8am. How many of the cabins would be rented for the weekend though, she couldn't guess. It was foul weather and she hoped that most people would vacate the cabin area. She dropped him on one of the small beds before covering him with every blanket within reach. He was still cold.

She hesitated before she removed the handcuffs, laying his arms above the covers where she could see them. He was definitely bigger than her, but his slow uncoordinated movements and lack of awareness made her confident. She headed back out to the car, bringing in everything she had packed for her own ruined weekend as well as the bags from the store. She grabbed the containers of salt and quickly walked through the cabin, laying down thick lines on the windowsills and along the doorways.

A deep set frown was etched on her face as she considered how to locate someone to take him off her hands. Surely, someone was looking for him. There had to be other hunters in the area, if they were close enough she could drive him wherever anyone would meet her. She remembered her dad's journal and wondered if her mom still had it. She remembered some of the names in there, but without the phone numbers it was worthless knowledge. Hunters weren't advertising in the yellow pages these days. She hesitated before she reached for her phone. Her mom had refused to talk about hunting since they had lost Silas. Gloria hesitated before dialing her mom, stopping in the doorway of the bedroom to check on her mystery guest.

He was gone.

Gloria slid the phone into her pocket and rushed into the room. She stared at the empty bed in confusion before she heard a noise behind her. She kicked herself for her stupidity.

He grabbed her tightly, one arm wrapped around her throat while the other snaked around her torso.

"Is this the lie," he whispered into her ear. "He wouldn't do this….he's my brother….you're just monsters….in the dark…"

Gloria tried to fight back her panic as she fought to get loose of the suddenly mobile hunter. He was taller than her, providing him somewhat of an advantage. With her boot she stomped on his raw, bare foot and slipped one arm loose and thrust her elbow into his ribs before slipping around in his grip, turning to face him. His green eyes burned with pain, fear, and hate sending a chill through her. He fought to regain his grip on her as she suddenly thrust her arm up between them, loosening his grip on her neck. Before he could recover, she punched him hard in the center of his chest, sending him back with a groan. He stumbled and clung onto the doorframe, panting wildly. She stayed in a low position, watching him closely as she gingerly touched her throat, it ached from his bruising grip. He looked around slowly before muttering unintelligibly.

"I'm not whoever you think I am. But let me assure you, you try that again and I'll kick your ass," she said, her voice raw, knowing it wasn't going to get through to him. His mind was somewhere else while his body was left behind to defend itself. She considered what kind of monster he could have been hunting, knowing that several of them could alter someone's perception of reality.

She watched as he was suddenly overtaken by shivering, his hands shaking forcefully. She was relieved; shivering was a good sign in his case.

She coughed lightly, trying to see just how badly her throat was hurt. His head swiveled towards her, his glassy green eyes honing in her with a fierce look of determination. He took one step towards her, making her rethink her position. "Let's just stay there, okay," she said lightly as she glanced from him to the doorway behind him.

"Stop…," he ground out between chattering teeth. "Just stop looking like them….you evil sonovabitch."

She froze, not sure if he was talking to her or something he thought he was seeing. She slowly glanced from side to side to make sure they were truly alone; seeing nothing she turned her attention back to the man in front of her. "You need to get back in bed," she muttered. "Try to warm up."

He didn't respond to her words as he took a shaky step towards her, his firsts curled tightly and his eyes full of hate. Without another thought, she charged him and brought him to the floor with a thud.

Somewhere in Dean's Mind (Not sure how else to put it. Suggestions?)

Dean was freezing. Pain assailed him on all fronts, his burning feet, his aching chest, just….everything. Every sensation seemed to cut right through him, every sound seemed loud and foreign. He felt something hard underneath him, cold and rough on his skin. Hands were all over him, pulling at his clothing, arms, and legs.

He struggled to see anything; his sight was filled with strange bursts of color that seemed to move on their own. He tried to rub his eyes, cringing as something pushed his hands away.

"Stop, you're going to rub them raw," a voice said, cutting through the fog that muffled his brain. He struggled to look in the direction of the voice. He could see an outline of someone standing over him, leering at him. Their face seemed to be a collection of change, like paint mixing together. First the face was black and young with eyes that looked down at him with concern. Next it morphed into his mother's face, one that smiled sweetly before baring sharp teeth at him. He tensed and cried out. "Stop!"

He watched in horror as it turned into his dad, his stern look made Dean freeze.

"Stop fighting me," he demanded as his eyes turned dark; black and bottomless.

"No! …No… you're not… you're dead…you're dead," he said bitterly. "They're all dead…"

"I'm not dead," his mother cooed into his ear. "I'm here with you."

Dean shook uncontrollably as another round of shivering tore through him, his teeth chattering loudly.

The shack. He was still in the shack. His heart jumped in his chest as he remembered the dank, cold shack in the woods. The being standing over all the men, plying them with food...

He looked around wildly, trying to see where the other men had gone. He was alone.

Rain battered the roof overhead, pounding louder than ever. He felt water begin to rise around him, dragging him down, drowning him. The spots in his vision exploded as he tried to get out of the water. Something held his wrists tightly, cutting into his flesh. He cried out as he felt rough hands pushing him down into the water. The water was excruciating, the feel of it sending pins, needles, and daggers through him.

"Open your eyes," the voice demanded.

He shook his head wildly and howled. "Lemme go!"

"Come on, open up," the voice said. "Look at me."

Dean sobbed as he cracked an eye open and saw his mother standing over him, a look of triumph on her face. "I'll take good care of you," she said with a smirk. "We're going to be fine."

"Sam," Dean cried out as he fought against the weight on his chest, pushing him deeper into the water. "Sammy!"

Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia

Gloria struggled to keep him in the bathtub as the lukewarm water rushed out of the faucet. She had stripped him down to his boxers and maneuvered him into the tub, his hands handcuffed to prevent any more attempts at killing her.

He fought with more endurance than she had given him credit for earlier. He cried out as the water rose; his muscles contracting at the sudden change in temperature. She knew it hurt, but lukewarm water was the safest place to start. Once his body temperature got adjusted, she could refill the tub with warmer water.

"Hang on," she said calmly, hoping that her tone might be enough to calm him down. She jumped when he began to sob and cry out 'Sammy'. She shuddered at the sheer pain in his voice, it was more than physical. It was emotional and damn near heartbreaking.

He slowly quieted down, his taut body relaxing into the warmth even as he continued to shiver.

"Must be running out of adrenaline," she said with a sigh of relief. "About time too."

She watched as his eyes began to droop closed, only to snap open every few seconds. He held the side of the tub tightly, his knuckles white from his attempt to prevent from sinking into the water. He shivered violently as he began to slide further and further into the water, his eyes rolling wildly at the sensation. Gloria glanced around the bathroom for any way to keep him upright in the tub and found nothing.

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "Dammit."

As she fought to remove her already soaked jacket and uniform pants she tossed her phone next to the tub. She'd call her mom later. First things first, she had to get him warmed up and out of the tub where she wouldn't have to worry about him drowning himself.

"What the hell are you doing, Gloria," she asked herself as she climbed in the tub behind him, holding him upright. She finally managed to get her arms wrapped around him with his head lolling on her shoulder. His knees stuck out of the water but she couldn't help that, he was just too damn tall. The water sloshed to the top of the tub, submersing them as deeply as possible. She shivered in the lukewarm water and wondered how long it would take before the tub could be filled with warm water. His skin was still cold and shivers raced through him.

After refilling the tub with mildly warm water, she noticed he had begun to relax into her arms. His grip on the side of the tub had loosed completely, his hands sliding into the warmth of the water. Gloria could hear the rain pounding on the roof of their cabin, wind whipping around it. If it hadn't been for the shivering man in her arms, this wouldn't have been a bad way to spend her morning. A hot bath in a rain storm. Something about it seemed so soothing.

She sighed contentedly as she listened to his even breathing, she was fairly certain he had finally slipped into an exhausted sleep. She wondered how much longer in the tub it would take for him to stop shivering.

If her dad had ever found her in this situation with a hunter, he'd have tanned her hide. His belief had been that while you watch out for each other, you never trust someone you don't know. Especially one whose name you didn't know. Reputation could help you a long ways in knowing someone, but this, this went against the way she had been raised. She smiled sadly at the idea of her dad giving her one last ass chewing, yelling down at her from his place in Heaven while shaking his finger at her in frustration of her stubbornness.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into the warmth of the water, resting one hand over the man's heart.

Somewhere in Wisconsin

Bobby grabbed for his phone as it went off again, answering it before it woke Sam. The kid had finally given in to the late after-effects of the sleeping pills, the road noise lulling him to sleep the second the engine had reached seventy miles an hour. He smiled, next time Sam refused or couldn't sleep, he'd just cram the kid in the car and hit the road. Hell, Sam had been raised in the backseat of the Impala, it was the most obvious place he'd feel safe and relaxed.

"Marty," Bobby said without looking at the phone. "You find her?"

"I called a friend of a friend, who called a friend of a friend and—"

"Marty, yes or no," Bobby said, interrupting the man.

"I got her cell phone number," Marty said. "I've tried calling her but I'm not getting an answer."

"Give me the number, we'll keep trying while we're on the road," Bobby said. He listened to Marty repeat the number twice before Bobby had it. "I'll call her now."

"You ever work with Silas in the past," Marty asked.

"Once, about ten years ago. She won't know me, but she's our best shot as of right now."

Bobby hung up and recited the number to himself as he dialed.

Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia

Gloria was pulled from sleep by her obnoxious ring tone. She blinked and realized she was still in the tub, holding the man's back to her chest. He was limp in her arms, his head lying on her shoulder. The water had cooled, letting her know they had been in the tub for a while. As the ringing continued she reached out of the tub and found her phone on the floor.

"Hello," she asked somewhat sternly as she tried to adjust her position in the tub. Her right leg had fallen asleep from sitting so long in a cramped position.

"Looking for Gloria Johnson," a man's voice asked.

Gloria stiffened. "And?"

"Are you her," the voice asked with an impatient huff.

"Who is this," she asked, refusing to acknowledge his question. Her day had already been weird enough without adding any more to it.

"I'm looking for Gloria Johnson. I'm an old acquaintance of her dad's," the man said. "So are you her or not?"

Gloria sighed before saying, "Yeah. Now who is this?"

"Bobby Singer. I worked with your dad about ten years ago on a job near Roanoke," the man explained.

"And," Gloria asked as she worked to adjust herself in the tub, the man leaning heavily on her.

"I'm looking for a hunter, he…he's lost and I got word that he may be on Fort Eustis," Bobby explained. "I was hoping you might be able to find him before anyone else does."

Gloria jumped at his words. "Description?"

"Brown hair, green eyes, 6'1'," Bobby said.

"Identifying marks," Gloria asked, already knowing the answer.

"Anti-possession tattoo—"

"Over his heart," Gloria exclaimed, interrupting him. "I've got him."

Bobby's sigh of relief came through the phone.

Gloria maneuvered herself out of the tub, leaning the man against the sloped back of the tub. Bobby could hear the sound of sloshing water and curiously asked, "What the hell was that?"

"We're fine; I just had to get out of the tub. Been in there for probably over an hour trying to warm him up; he couldn't seem to hold himself up," Gloria explained into the phone as she tiptoed across the room towards the towel rack. Her t-shirt stuck to her, making her shiver in the cool air. "He's not in great condition, so don't hold that against me."

"What's wrong with him," Bobby demanded. "You find him outside? How long was he out there for? Can you get him off the base? Who found him?"

"Whoa, slow down," Gloria said as she wrapped a towel around her and began to drain the water from the tub while refilling it with warmer water. "First thing, I'm the one who found him and he's damn lucky I did. He's even luckier I know what that tattoo is, without that I wouldn't have had a clue he was a hunter. If someone else had found him, he'd be in lock up right now."

"Where was he," Bobby asked. He needed details. Sam would need to know.

"Passed out in the woods near the James River," Gloria explained. "Sheer luck that I spotted him while I was on patrol; he was hidden by some underbrush. Strange though, something was in the woods with us. What was he hunting out here?"

"You see it?"

"Not enough to tell what it was but enough to know I didn't want to get any closer to it," Gloria said. "It was fast, I know that. And tall. Heard some screeching."

"How is he?"

Gloria turned and looked down at the man. His paleness accentuated his freckles, making him look younger. "Hypothermic for starters. Wasn't even shivering when I found him. I've had in him the tub for a while now, warming him up slowly. He's bruised, his feet are in bad shape but he wasn't even wearing shoes when I found him. He keeps rubbing at his eyes, not sure why though."

"Does he know where he is," Bobby asked, worried how Dean was taking his sudden return to reality.

"I don't think so. He's not made any sense so far. He's combative. Had me by the throat earlier but I got him down after a minute. I'm not sure I'd even use the word 'confused' at this point, since he's not even touched down in reality yet. From his babbling, it's more like he's seeing and hearing things that aren't there; his mind is somewhere else completely and wherever it is, it's not a happy place."

"I bet," Bobby murmured in the phone. "Look, we're still a ways out from you. Is there any chance you can keep an eye on him until we get there?"

Gloria hesitated. "I've got the time but I'm not equipped for this."

"That man is Dean Winchester. If he's found, he'll end up in prison. Trust me, you're equipped enough."

Gloria stared down at the man. She had heard stories about him and his brother, but her dad had kept it to just that, stories. Trouble followed them wherever they went.

"Anything I need to know," Gloria asked. "I don't want to make this worse."

"Trust me, this can't get any worse," Bobby stated firmly. "But there are a few things that might help you out."

"Ok, let's have it then," Gloria said as she pulled more towels from the rack.

Bobby chuckled slightly. "First off, that he's a bad patient even when he's in his right mind. When he's out his head, he can be a handful. Combative, noncompliant, angry, and once he starts a high fever his grip on reality gets spotty."

"Sounds peachy," Gloria replied. "Just what the hell am I going to do with him?"

"Just keep him from getting found and I'll call you when we're close. We're driving from South Dakota, should be there sometime tomorrow. We've got two drivers so we'll drive through the night to get to you. Any way you can get him off base?"

"Shouldn't be that hard. I'll call you if anything happens."

"Keep in mind he's been through the ringer but don't be afraid to do what you have to; he was raised in the life. Sometimes he responds best to a stern voice. And Gloria?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let him out of your sights. Something's after him and he'll disappear into thin air. We can't lose him again."

Gloria turned around and looked at Dean, still lying precariously in the tub. "I'll keep tabs on him."

After tossing her phone aside, Gloria set about heaving Dean out of the tub; a tricky move on a wet floor. She half carried, half dragged him to the bed before she heaved him onto it and wrapped a blanket around him. He was still pale, yet his color was far better than from when she had found him. Keeping Bobby's words in mind, she grabbed all of the bags and threw them on the dresser. She gave one last glance out the front door before checking all the doors and windows again.

Content that they were as safe as she could make them, she shoved him to one side of the bed and draped blankets over him before settling on the far corner of the bed wrapped up in her own blanket. She grabbed a box of pop tarts from her bag and the remote.

She skimmed through the channels before finding the Dr. Sexy marathon. Hopefully, Dean was a fan.

Somewhere in Wisconsin

"Sam, wake up," Bobby said as he nudged the man.

Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "Marty call?"

"Better than that. Dean's been found and I've got Gloria Johnson keeping an eye on him until we get there," Bobby said as he pulled off the interstate and headed for a gas station.

Sam's relief was evident, his entire body relaxed. "Finally. How is he? Why didn't you wake me up to talk to him?"

"He's not up to talking," Bobby said, worriedly. "He's out of it."

Sam sat silent for a minute. "Is Gloria prepared for this?"

"I told her to go easy on him, but to do anything necessary. She'll do alright by him."

"I hope she's up to it," Sam said, concern dripping from his voice. "You know how he can get…"

"He had her by the throat earlier; she said she took care of it."

Sam looked at him, his eyes wide. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that she's an Army brat who grew up with a hunter for a dad and then joined the Army when she was old enough. She took care of it. Probably better than most would have been able to. He'll be fine."

"Hope so…Wait 'til Dean finds out a girl kicked his ass!"

Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia

Gloria woke to the sound of thunder clapping overhead. The light from the television cast a soft glow across the room, illuminating the man rolling restlessly in the bed. She flipped the lamp on and moved to look at him. He was covered in sweat, his cheeks red from fever.

"How do you go from freezing to cooking in two hours," Gloria asked rhetorically. She laid a hand on his cheek and cringed at the roll of heat that came off of him. "Just great."

She dragged all but the sheet off of him, making him shiver. She dug through the bags to find the Gatorade she had bought at the store. Who knew how long ago it had been since he had eaten or drunk anything… She spun the cap loose before moving behind him and forcing him to sit up against the pillows. His head rolled towards her, his green eyes glassy and confused.

"You need to drink this," she said, calmly but firmly, remembering Bobby's advice.

He fought against her hold, thrashing his head from side to side. "No…no…no!"

"Dean. Stop fighting me," Gloria said firmly, glad she had left the handcuffs on him. "You've got a fever and you're probably dehydrated."

He continued to fight her until she moved the bottle from out of his sight; he immediately calmed somewhat. Curiously, she moved it back within his sight and watched as he fought her, his eyes glued to the bottle in her hand. She moved to the table and picked up a leftover pop tart and offered it to him, frowning when she got the same reaction.

"Food phobia? Bobby didn't mention that," she commented as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

Fifteen minutes later, Gloria was covered in Gatorade, a scowl across her face as she ripped the wet sheet from the bed. "So much for Bobby's bright idea," she muttered. "Guessing we're going to have to find another way."

She sat on the end of the bed and watched him. He looked miserable. Sweat beaded on his skin as a sudden cough wracked his frame. Gloria reached for another blanket and started to wrap him up when he began to mutter under his breath.

"Stop…cold…Sammy, make it stop….cold…"

Gloria sat back and considered the man in front of her. According to Bobby, they didn't know what was taking him. Of course, he had also said that Dean had never been gone this long before. With a look of determination, she grabbed the blankets and hauled them back off of him. There had to be a clue somewhere and damned if he wasn't the biggest clue they had. She flipped on the lamp and began to search closely; there had to be some kind of clue somewhere on him. Some sort of mark. Even a wound might be enough to help sort it out. She frowned at the bruises that laced around him ankles and wrists, old bruises laced up one of his arms. There were new bruises from their tussle earlier in the day, a mass of blue in the center of his chest. She gently prodded the bruise and frowned at his lack of pain response. Wherever his mind was, it didn't seem well connected with his body.

She continued her hunt and smiled in triumph when she found it. A faint mark, barely visible, could be seen on his lower back. She got as close as she dared and looked at the faint mark, it was round and raised, looking much like a brand on his skin. Tiny, raised marks ran around its inner band. She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture before sending it to Bobby. She ran a light finger over the mark and found it to be ice cold, burning her as she touched it. With a frown she answered her ringing phone.

"I'm going to guess he didn't have that last time you saw him," she said as she dropped the blankets back over him.

"Where is it," a new, younger voice asked impatiently.

"Who the hell is this," she demanded.

"Sam Winchester, Dean's brother. Bobby's here in the car, working on some details of our own," Sam explained.

"Fine," Gloria snapped. "It's on his lower back; he probably couldn't have seen it himself. Honestly, if it wasn't for how flushed he is with his fever, I don't know if I would have noticed it either. It's small, about the size of a dime. It's colored like a bruise but it's definitely not. It's too perfect in shape, looks like a lot like a brand except that the coloring isn't right."

"How's his fever going," Sam asked, worried. Dean didn't do fevers well, even in his right mind.

"He's sweating up a storm, blazing hot to the touch but he keeps muttering about how cold he is. Speaking of which, this mark is freezing cold to the touch. Can't be a good sign."

"How deep does it go," Sam asked, knowing what she would have to do. "We need to know."

Gloria carefully prodded the mark, hissing at the iciness that raced up her fingers. She could feel the edges of it. "Not deep. Something you want to share?"

She could hear Sam and Bobby talking in the background, road noise filling the phone.

"We'll probably have to burn it off," Sam asked hesitantly.

"Are you sure it won't kill him," Gloria asked, surprised. "You don't know what it is!"

"Bobby seems to think that it's causing his feeling of being cold. Maybe even the fever too. Doesn't matter, it has to go. We can't take the risk that the mark is how he's being found and taken."

Gloria sat quietly, watching Dean shudder as another round of shivering set in. He was burning to the touch and shivering at the same time. She looked at the mark on his lower back and ran a finger over it.

"I'll do it," she muttered into the phone.

"What? No," Sam said firmly. "I can't ask you to do that. We'll do it once we get there."

"His fever is going up, Sam. What if he can't wait that long?"

Sam didn't reply.

"Sam?"

"Do it."

Okay, I would apologize for the cliffie but I'm feeling evil this morning, and deep down, you know you love it! Alright, the next chapter will be coming soon, but please keep in mind that I've got a birthday to destroy, a quick 9 hour drive to FL and an 11 hour drive back, and a novel to write this week. But never fear, my laptop is going with me and I've got fresh batteries in the voice recorder should any ideas hit me while doing seventy miles an hour.

Please remember to leave me a review. Does a body good!