Well, here's the chapter!

I'm still having a hard time putting Nikki into episodes (by the way, thanks sb12345!). So…Don't be too harsh on me.

I'm also having a hard time with John. You see how he is with Sam and Dean, but I'm not sure how he'd be with someone else, especially when that someone else is a witch. So, any advice on that would help too. :)

-Christianne

Nikki POV

The use of stillangia throughout history has been one of the main reasons witches like myself are still alive. If a non-born witch blessed stillangia, it'd be deadly. When a born-witch blesses it, it gains extraordinary powers of premonition. It alerted my relatives of the Salem trials and countless other events.

So why couldn't it tell me that I was going to have a gun to my head?

I dropped my backpack by my feet, otherwise frozen. I heard the door shut and felt a hand grab me, making me flinch. It pushed me towards the table and down into a chair.

I could see who was holding a gun to my head now; the older man from my vision.

"Who are you?" He asked flatly. The hand that was holding the gun was still and his gaze was calculated-he would shoot me.

"N-Nikki, Nikki Blake," I said, taking deep breaths to try and keep from panicking.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"I-I'm looking for Sam and Dean." I said, my tone steadier than when I first spoke. "Do you think you can put the gun down?" I asked quickly.

"Why are you looking for Sam and Dean?" He demanded again.

"I'll tell you everything if you put the gun d-" I had been speaking slowly to try and keep the panic from my voice, but when he threw water from a flask on my face, I cut myself off and shut my eyes against the holy water. I spat out a mouth full of it and wiped it from my eyes. "I'm not a demon."

He narrowed his eyes at me before, thankfully, putting the gun in the waistband of his pants. He turned his back to me for a second, before turning back, knife in hand. Oh crap.

"Hand." He demanded, holding out his own.

"Excuse me?" I asked slowly, unsure exactly what he was planning on doing. When he didn't answer me, I looked down at my lap and raised my hands to push the wet hair that had been plastered to my forehead with holy water out of my eyes.

"Hey!" I yelped when he grabbed my forearm, pinning it to the table and forcing the sleeve of my jacket up.

"Let me g-Ow!" I yelped again, feeling a swift slice on my inner forearm. I used all my strength to pull my arm back, seeing a deep, long cut on my arm, gushing blood.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked loudly, grabbing one of the cleaner rags on the table, pressing it to the wound on my arm. He didn't say anything as he stared at me, knife still in hand. I felt a little sick when I saw a drop of my blood trickle down the edge of the blade, and hang off the sharp point before dropping to the floor. It made a dime sized red spot on the floor.

"Oh, right, werewolf," I stated, pushing on my rag-covered arm to try and stop the bleeding. "Shifters too, neither really likes silver, right?" He just staring at me.

"Hey! I'm new at this! Cut me some slack will 'ya?" I said, laughing nervously. He ignored me, grabbing my backpack from the floor and tossing it on one of the beds, opening it up.

Please oh please don't. Please-

The man spun around swiftly, surprisingly so for someone his age, holding the gun again. "You're a witch." He growled.

"I-I prefer the term Wicca," I said quietly, shrinking back in on myself as he took a step closer to me. I looked to see if there was a chance the safety was still on the gun, but no such luck.

"Why are you looking for Sam and Dean?" He demanded again, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot me if he didn't like the answer. "Why are you looking for my sons?"

This was their dad? Damnit. I was hoping he'd be a little more open minded than this.

The fact the this was John Winchester only made me believe more that he was going to kill me no matter what I said. Jeremy told me a little about him; he wouldn't just let me walk away.

I just looked up at him wordlessly. I clasped my hands tightly together in my lap, praying that he wouldn't kill me.

Omniscient POV

"I'm just sayin'!" Sam defended himself as he got out of the Impala. "You could at least get some new tapes."

"And I'm just sayin' shut your cake hole," Dean snapped back, throwing one of the plastic bags at his brother. The two were just returning to the motel after making a food and amo run. Sam shook his head and mumbled profanities under his breath.

He almost ran into Dean, who had stopped a few steps from the motel door. Sam followed his brother's gaze and saw a black duffle bag on the ground next to the door and a key in the lock. The part that really grabbed Sam's attention was the tag on the handle of the bag; it was blue with 'N.B.' written on it.

After sharing a quick look with his brother, they dropped the bags and ran into the motel room.