Hey there readers!

I know I've been posting daily for, well, pretty much the whole time I've been working on this story, and I didn't yesterday. I sorta got the flu, and this is the first time in almost three days that I haven't been sick to my stomach.

Second thing, I'm gonna post another, longer, chapter right after this one, just in case I don't feel up to posting tomorrow or the next day.

Third, and final, thing is the kinda-sorta Sam-Nikki thing. I've been trying to sorta work in slow and stuff, but should I speed it up a little? And when I say speed it up a little, I don't mean they will realize they are 'madly in love' in the next chapter and jump each other's bones. That, isn't gonna happen. This is something I'd really appreciate some input on, so…yeah. I'm fully open to what all you wonderful Wayward Children have to say, so REVIEW! :)

Enjoy the chapter(s)!

-Christianne

Nikki POV

I was sitting on one of the motel beds next to Sam, my chin tipped up and my neck stretched up so Sam could look at my neck. A dark purple bruise was starting to form on it.

"What did it feel like?" Sam asked as he gently pushed my hair (which was barely contained in a braid anymore) back to get a better look. His voice wasn't curious and concerned like it had been when John cut my arm. It was distracted and flat.

I shrugged at him, still not really able to talk, my throat hurt too much.

"It...It looks like fingers, a hand," he mumbled, his warm fingers lightly tracing on my neck. I couldn't help it; my eyes fluttered shut from his light touch and close proximity. "Did it actually grab you?"

I shook my head. "No." I got out, my voice was hoarse and broken.

"C'mon dad, answer your phone dammit!" Dean growled into the phone.

Sam dropped his hand from my neck and put both his elbows on his knees, turning his back to me. I sighed, grabbing the ice pack I'd gotten from the motel manager and gently pressing it to my neck as I scooted to the middle of the bed to sit cross legged.

"Something's wrong," Dean said, hanging up. I let out a humorless chuckle. Something? I can list ten things wrong right now!

"You hear me? Something's happened." Dean snapped at Sam when he didn't say anything.

"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all of this." Sam said, sending Dean a glare.

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life." Dean said seriously to his brother.

"You don't know that." Sam snapped a moment later.

I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed, my head hitting the pillows.

"So what? You're just willing to sacrifice yourself?" Dean asked angrily.

"Yeah." Sam said, standing up. "Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"That's not gonna happen, not as long as I'm around!" Dean argued.

Not as long as I'm around either. I thought.

"What the hell are you talking about Dean?" Sam asked, his voice raising. "We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I want to waste it. I do, ok? But it's not worth dying over!"

"What?"

"If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, I hope we never find the damn thing!"

I had enough. I threw the ice pack down on the nightstand and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

I rested my hands on either side of the sink and stared at my reflection.

Sam was right, it was like a hand around my throat. A big, dark purple hand.

There was a bruise around my eye too, from where the bottle hit me.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti." I said slowly, reciting the self-healing incantation. "Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti. Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti."

I opened one eye and saw that the purple had turned into a faded yellow, like the bruise was a few weeks old instead of a few hours. My eye, however, was completely healed.

Just the short healing chant made my head hurt. I rubbed my forehead, then moved my hand to pinch and pull at the muscle on my neck and shoulder. I stretched my right arm over my chest, pushing on it with my left, then did the same with me left arm. I was sore all over.

I undid my braid, shaking out the long, sweaty strands. I was starting to re-braid it when a slam made me jump. It wasn't like a door slamming. More like one person shoving another into a wall.

I waited a few minutes, letting them figure out their little fight before I opened the door.

I was about to open the door to see if both of them were still alive, when someone banged on it.

"Pack your crap Nik! We're leaving! Now!" Dean bellowed. I threw the door open, leaving my hair down.