A/N: Sorry guys so such a long wait! I was vacationing in Alaska and unfortunately they don't have great internet services up there. I hope you enjoy and please leave feedback that can help me be a better writer.

Disclaimer: Sadly they belong to Eric Kripke.

Chapter 3

Sam loved libraries.

He has always loved libraries…and research. Ever since Sam was eight, his dad dropped him off at the local library and ordered him to find out everything he could about whatever it was that they were hunting at the time. Sam has scoured for hours through the well-worn, well-loved books. At times he has been elbow deep in old articles and obituaries, but Sam didn't mind. The library was like a safe haven for him, a constant in his ephemeral life style. The novels enticed him with their stories, each an escape from the horror story that was his life. Biographies tempted him with lives that he could never live.

The Fort Vancouver Library was not much different than the others. It was quiet. Not as quiet as a church or a graveyard but still a nice relief from the loud music Dean plays or the screams of terror from victims of a supernatural being. The thud of their footsteps was the loudest noise in the room as the brothers made their way over to mythology section of the library.

"Do you think we can finish this hunt today?" Sam asked keeping his voice low.

"Maybe, but we better hit the books geek. It's already getting dark and this thing likes to kill at night."

Sam was intently reading his fifth book when Dean's voice broke his focus.

"Djinns are the only thing I can find that is associated with the color blue and from personal experience they sure as hell don't suffocate you."

Sam winced at the mention of the close call his brother had earlier. Sam opened his mouth to calm Dean whose loud voice was drawing attention to the last few stranglers still left in the library when something on the page he was reading, yellowed with age, caught his attention.

"Hey Dean get this," Sam said with barley held back excitement and started reading. "Sylphs, cousins of the djinn, are elementals of air. Alexander Pope invented a theory to explain them. Pope portrayed them as vain women who suffocated because of their spirits were too full of dark vapor. Sylphs because their vanity still rests within them are like the gossips or spies of the supernatural world gathering and telling information."

Sam paused frowning.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"It says here that sylphs do leave a blue signature on those who they touch, but there is no mention of them being violent or suffocating people even though they can control the air. Why would this one be different?"

"It beats me, but they are almost a perfect match. Does it say how to kill them?" responded Dean with just a hint of violence in his emerald eyes.

Sam skimmed the next couple pages. "Unfortunately, no."

"Damn. Okay I'm going to call Bobby, maybe he knows." Dean got up and walked to the far side of the room so he wouldn't disturb anyone, then dialed.

Sam looked around as Dean spoke with Bobby and thought that Dean really didn't need to walk all the way over there because there was no one left to disturb. None of the earlier occupants were there, not even the librarians were missing. It was just them left. Sam's hunter instincts were screaming at him.

Something was wrong

"Bobby Singer." The gruff voice greeted Dean after the third ring.

"Hey Bobby, it's Dean. We're on this hunt and we think the thing that's killing people is something called a Sylph. Do you know how to gank it?"

"No small talk just get right to the point huh. Of course I know how to kill it do I look like an idjit to you?"

Dean bit back the joke he was going to make and waited silently through the sound of shuffling paper coming from the phone

"You have to stab it through the heart with a wooden stake blessed with the blood of a sinner," Bobby informed.

"Thanks Bobby."

"How ya boys holding up?" Bobby questioned knowing it has been a rough year for them.

"We're just f-" Dean started to say but broke off when he saw his little brother. "Sam!"

Dean dropped his phone and sprinted towards Sam ignoring the tiny shouts of his name coming from the phone. His taller brother was writhing on the ground next to the overturned heavy wooden chair that Sam was previously sitting in. Sam's face was red as he struggled to breathe, one hand gripped his neck protectively and the other unsuccessfully tried to battle the unseen force that was killing him slowly.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted again. "Where is it? What can I do?"

Sam couldn't respond. Dean watched with fear as his brother opened his mouth to draw in air but was unable to do so, slowly getting weaker each passing second. Dean, desperate, just started punching the air around Sam hoping to hit something, anything. After what seemed like an eternity to Dean he finally made contact. It was a strange feeling, as if he was punching Jell-O, but it seemed to work at least for the meantime because he heard a strangled gasp/cough come from Sam.

It was music to his ears.

Dean crouched down next to Sam reaching out and pulling him into a hug. He didn't care that it was a chick flick moment; he needed to feel that his brother was okay. This had been too close.

"Sam? Are you okay, man?" Dean asked thick with concern.

In between gasps of air Sam managed a weak "Yeah I'm fine, just need a moment."

After a few minutes of them in that position were the only sounds came from Dean's quite breaths and Sam's louder more labored breathing as he quenched his need for oxygen, Dean broke the silence and his hold.

"Sam, what happened?"

"I'm not sure. I just felt that something was off and then the next thing I knew all the air felt like it was sucked out of the room and the only thing I could do was try to breathe." Sam fixed his eyes on his brothers', "It was the sylph, wasn't it?"

Dean tiredly rubbed his eyes for it was now almost midnight. "Yeah I think so. The question is why did it go after you?"

Sam stayed quiet unsure if Dean expected a response.

"Whatever it doesn't matter, I know how to gank it so I say let's get rid of the damn thing and get out of this town," declared Dean reassuringly getting to his feet pulling the taller man up with him.

"We need a wooden stake and a sinner's blood. We've got the stake back in the Impala and I'm betting everyone's a sinner so we could just hit a blood bank…"

Sam shut out Dean's ramblings. Now that he was more or less back to his senses he still had that gut feeling one acquires after a lifetime of hunting telling him that the sylph was still in the room with them.

Sam became aware that Dean had stopped walking as well and his muscular body was tense as if ready for battle.

"Sam I think we should get out of here," Dean said seriously.

"Yeah agreed." Sam took the necessary three steps towards the gray metal doors that lead out into the front library and pulled on the handle.

It didn't budge.

He tried again with the same amount of success as the first time. "Dean it's trapping us in here."

The side of Dean that took after his father's commanding personality took charge. "This is what we are going to do, we are going to stick together and wait out the night. It has never killed in the day so I'm assuming it can only attack at night."

Sam nodded in understanding and the two brothers took their seats at the nearest table. Their bodies showing faux relaxation when in reality they both could spring up and attack at a moment's notice.

"Guns out," Dean ordered, his voice low but deadly. "Shoot anything that moves, it won't kill it but a round of iron bullets will sure as heck slow it down."

Dawn was only a few hours away and there had been no sign of the sylph.

Dean almost wondered if it gave up and left, but he knew better than that. Just as the thought passed through his head, a gust of wind toppled a novel from a shelf to his left.

"Stay there Sam," commanded Dean as he warily approached the fallen book, his Colt 1911 gripped tightly in his hand.

Dean inspected the book smirking at the irony of the title, Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake. Dean paced the area making sure whatever was there was now long gone before turning to face Sam. Cursing out loud, raced back towards the table as he saw the horrifying image of his brother suffocating for the second time that day.

There was a major difference this time though. The sylph had taken on a somewhat solid form as she perched over Sam's crumpled body. It had almost a ghostly appearance; it's fair, milky skin was verging on translucent. Though, its inky blue tribal marks that were nearly identical to those of its cousin, the djinn, were opaque and popped out in stark contrast. Its light blue hair trailed behind it as if it were an afterthought.

"Get away from my brother you bitch!" Dean yelled, firing at the figure.

The bullet proved to be useless as it sailed through the sylph's body, shattering the computer screen behind.

Wooden stake, wooden stake, wooden stake Dean thought to himself frantically as Sam's moments got more feeble.

The best he could find was a half-sharpened number two pencil.

Dean braced himself as he stabbed the pencil in his arm holding back a wince. Then, he launched himself towards the sylph wielding his makeshift stake covered in his own sinner's blood. The pencil hit its mark as it sank deep into the sylph's chest as easily as a spoon into Jell-O. It looked at Dean with its solid orb eyes once more before it vanished in a puff of air.

Dean hovered over Sam's limp body worriedly, checking for breathing.

"No no no! Damn it Sammy breathe!" Dean cried when he couldn't feel the rise and fall of his brother's chest.

Dean laid Sam flat and tilted his head back, then proceeded to give him two rescue breaths making sure Sam's chest expanded each time.

"C'mon Sammy!" he begged when nothing happened. Dean was about to try again when Sam gasped.

Dean could have wept in relief.

"Sam welcome back, you're just in time for the party." Dean whipped around to face the source of the voice. He was so focused on resuscitating Sam he completely missed its approach.

Dean only caught a glimpse of a man's figure before something hard collided with his head and the world turned black.

TBC