Nikki POV

"Done…and done." Ash announced as he walked back into the bar.

"That was fast." Sam said, setting his beer down.

"Well, apparently, that's my job." Ash said, mild sarcasm in his voice as he sat next to Sam at the bar. "Make the monkey dance." He added.

"Just tell us what you found, Ash." I sighed, tired, from my seat on the other side of Sam.

"Four folks fit the profile nationwide." Ash said. "Born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang."

"Four? That's it?" Sam asked.

"Sam Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas, Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan, Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma-" Ash started to list off.

I bristled at the mention of Andy. It just reminded me of what I did to his brother. I traced the symbols on my palms, trying to calm myself.

"And another name—Scott Carey." Ash finished, tossing a notebook on the bar.

"You got an address?" Sam asked, grabbing the notebook.

"Kind of." Ash said, shrugging a little. "The Arbor Hills Cemetery in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot 468."

"He's dead?" I asked, confused.

"Killed about a month ago." Ash confirmed.

"Killed how?" I asked as Sam kept paging through the notebook.

"Stabbed." Ash said simply. "Parking lot. Fuzz don't have much—no suspects."

Sam sighed and took a drink of his beer. "All right." He said. "Thank you." He told Ash as he got up. He lightly smacked my shoulder. "Let's go." He said lowly to me.

I gave Ellen a smile, and waved towards Ash as he took a drink from Sam's beer.

"Where you two going?" Ellen called after us.

"Indiana." Sam said. I looked back at Ellen and shrugged.

"Sam, I gotta call Dean." Ellen called, making Sam stop this time. "I've got to let him know where you are. And that you've hooked up with the Good Witch of the South." She said, nodding towards me. I blushed a little at her choice of words, and mentally curseing at the fact I had a Wizard of Oz character for a nickname.

"Ellen, I'm trying to find answers about who I am, about who we are." Sam added, putting a hand on my shoulder. "And, Dean means well, but he can't protect me from that."

Ellen looked at him skeptically. "Please?" Sam added, looking at Ellen with those puppy dog eyes. She caved after a few seconds and nodded.

"So, Indiana?" I asked as Sam and I got into the car.

"Yeah, Indiana." Sam confirmed, a small, forced smile on his face.

I said nothing as I got in the passenger's seat and Sam started the car.

I sat up on the floor. Putting one hand behind me to keep myself up, I used the other to push hair out of my face.

I've never been drunk. I've drank before, but never been anything more than tipsy.

But I think this is what a hangover felt like. My head was pounding, I couldn't think straight, and my stomach was churning.

I struggled to stand up. Once I did, I looked around in confusion. I was in the courtyard in the center of my house in Janesville.

Only it was different.

Last time I was at the house, the courtyard was getting overgrown. The last time anyone had put any work into it was when the house was being renovated, and that was more than 8 months ago. I was never in the garden when it was pruned and free of weeds, but this was what I imagined it'd look like.

Several large, fully grown trees were clustered in the center. Their top leaves were almost level with the four story roof. There were patches of roses, lilies, and tons of other flowers that I couldn't name. It was beautiful.

I swayed on my feet and braced myself on the rough bark of a tree as I put a hand over my eyes, shielding them from the light.

"Oh!" I heard someone say.

I spun around, putting a hand on my knife. The sudden movement made my stomach churn and my head pound. I groaned and leaned on the tree more.

"Oh, it's you Nicolette…" I heard a soft voice say as something shadowed the direct sun from me. I opened my eyes and was face to face with Jane, my blonde twin.

"What are you doing here?" She asked me, her blond eyebrows furrowing as she tilted her head slightly.

"What?" I asked, my face still pinched in pain.

"You are not supposed to be here." She said, taking my arm as she led me from the courtyard and into the house. "I daresay you can't be here…" she trailed off.

It was the same, the same thin boards of the hardwood floor, the smooth plaster walls, and the echoing sounds are footsteps made when we walked. But things were different. The kitchen was old, there was a large stove instead of the stainless steel oven, no refrigerator. The living room wasn't painted a pale gray with a rich chocolate colored suede sectional in front of a large flat screen TV. It was the same white as the halls and was full of furniture that was consistent with the Civil War era.

"What the…" I trailed off, letting Jane drag me through the house.

"Jane dear! Where are my spectacles?" A male voice called from the study off the foyer.

"I haven't seen them Papa!" Jane called back. "Perhaps you left them in the stables after your morning ride?"

"Perhaps…Would you check for me?"

"I'm busy Papa!" she yelled over her shoulder, taking a few seconds to pull a shawl over her shoulders and artfully pin her small hat to the pile of hair on top of her head.

"They are right here, Howard." A woman said. I watched in shock as a woman with blonde hair that looked almost silver from gray hair coming through. She had the same green eyes as Jane. Her mother. Her dead mother. When Jane was this old, Gretchen was long dead.

"Oh! Darling, why hadn't you told me Nicolette was here?" Gretchen asked Jane.

"Nicolette!" The man, Jane's father, said, coming into the foyer. "What a surprise…What has brought you here?" He asked, walking to his wife to get his glasses.

"I…I don't know." I said stupidly, letting Jane grab my arm again.

"I'm going to town , I must bring Nicolette to see them." She said, pulling me with her. I stumbled after her as she walked briskly down the familiar drive way. It was much wider now. The trees that were saplings now, were old and mature when I lived here in a hundred years or so.

"Tell me Nicolette, what have you learned about your Wicca talents?" Jane asked me.

"Uh…" I trailed off, confused. "I-I read all the books. Haven't had a lot to time to practice, but I'm-I'm doin' alright."

"Good…Good, you'll need to be strong. They will be coming for you soon." Jane said, looking down.

"What of your heart?" she asked me a few minutes later.

"What about it?" I asked back. I'm pretty sure I was dreaming, but it didn't feel like a dream. It felt more like a memory.

"Who do you love, Nicolette?" Jane asked me, stopping. I looked around, we were in the middle of Main Street. The buildings were old and ornate, just like the outfits of the people walking around.

"I-I don't have a boyfriend." I stuttered out, yanking my arm out of her grasp.

"That is not what I asked." Jane said, raising an eyebrow. She sighed and looked around. "Nicolette, you and I are bound. You are a part of me, and I am a part of you. My feelings affect you and your feelings affect me. I am in love, Nicolette. And such a powerful emotion cannot be had by one of us and not the other."

I frowned at her, different images flashed through my head. All of Sam and Dean.

"You're not right." I muttered, crossing my arms.

Jane sighed, shaking her head. "Well," she sighed. "None the less, you do not belong here. I must help you return to where you do belong."

"Yeah," I said, letting out a humorless laugh. "I'm getting a little hungry. Kinda wanna go back to the real world and grab a burger with Sam."

Jane looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed. "Sam? Sam Winchester?" She asked. I nodded slowly. "Oh, Nicolette you are not going back to the Winchester boy. I am taking you to where you really belong."

"What the Hell do you mean?" I asked, suddenly angry.

"I mean, that in the world that Sam Winchester lives and belongs in; you are not meant to be there." Jane said simply.

"I'm 'not meant to be there'?" I repeated, shocked at what I was hearing. "Where the Hell do I belong then?" I snapped.

Jane didn't say anything. She just stood there, and looked over my shoulder.

I followed her gaze and gasped. A large, billowing clouds of red and black smoke, accompanied by fire was rolling towards me.

I took off running, back towards the house. I screamed for Jane to run, but she just stood there and let the black and red smoke engulf her.

I could feel the heat of the fire and smoke as I was sprinting. It was making me sweat and my back was beginning to sting from the burning heat.

I tripped, sending me flying into the gravel.

"You…" A voice hissed. I struggled to stand, only to be forced back down on my back. Sitting up on my arms, pushing myself away from the red and black burning cloud, I looked around. I was still in town, but town now; in front of CJ's, and with the new hotel a few buildings down.

Through CJ's front windows I saw a figure with broad shoulders and in a flannel shirt. They were at the counter, hunched down.

"Sam!" I screamed. "Sam! Help me!" I kept shrieking.

"He won't help you…" the cloud hissed at me. "He knows what you kept from him…He knows how you lied-"

"I haven't lied!" I shrieked, my voice hoarse, my lungs burning. "I-I haven't lied!"

"The creature called abomination…why should you be believed…?" the cloud hissed. It seemed to rear up, and I took the opportunity to stand up and run again.

As I ran out of town, I kept screaming for Sam, or anyone, to help me. All the way to my house.

The second I stepped foot in the front door, the red cloud hissed and moaned as it began to swirl into a funnel and dissipate into the ground.

Gasping for breath, I slammed the door and leaned on it, letting my body go slack and slide to the floor.

"Oh God…Oh God…Oh God…" I said with every exhale.

It felt like I was sitting in the foyer of my house for a long time, just catching my breath and letting myself slowly fall asleep.

I winced.

Pain. I was in pain.

I groaned as I slid to lay on my back and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I yanked it up and hissed.

My ribs. They hadn't hurt in months. I'd almost forgotten about the mark returning. Now it was bruning more than it ever had.

Leaning up a little, I rested my head on the door to see my side.

"Oh God." I breathed, my eyes widening.

The mark had returned, the angry, red, puckered mark that looked like a scar. Only now…now where were markings. In the scared skin, there were symbols, they looked like they were smoldering, like they were actively burning into my skin.

I groaned, sliding back down to the floor and gritted my teeth as a new wave of pain came over me.

I arched my back up and let out a scream when I couldn't hold it in any more. I was whimpering and screaming on the marble floor of the foyer. The pain was just too much.

I pinched my eyes tight as a bright light broke through the windows. The ground benwwth me started to shake.

Memento, et pugnat. Memento disciplinam in proposito.

The phrase rattled through me. As it was setting in, the pain started to stop. Powering through the pain, I sat up and ran to the door in the kitchen. The light slowly started to follow me, and I ran. I had both hands pressed tightly to my side, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could.

I ended up at the cemetery.

"C-Cassidy!" I screamed. The dirtied figure looked up, his straw hat shadowed his face.

"Jane?" He called.

"Cassidy! Cassidy—Help-" before I could get the plea out, I fell forward, grasping the wrought iron fence in an attempt to stay upright. I let out a scream as the pain in my side intensified.

"Jane!" Cassidy yelled. I heard him running towards me.

Sunt qui tibi mente copulare.

"Jane! I'm coming!" Cassidy yelled, his Southern voice shaking and scared as his footsteps got closer.

The pain in my side was blinding.

"Damnit Nik! Couldn't'a let me finish my damn pie?" I forced my eyes open and looked up in confusion as Dean grabbed my shoulders and helped me stand.

"C'mon, let's go. Gotta get you otta here…Sam would kill me if I let sumthin' happen to you." He said, rolling his eyes.

"What-" I started to ask, but then I fell forward again. I looked up and saw Dean stumbling back as he was engulfed in a white-ish/blue light, his face filled with fear. I screamed as he dissipated into nothing.

I just laid there in the grass in front of the cemetery as the light faded and it slowly became dead silent.

My vision was blurring, and I felt myself lousing consciousness.

As I was drifting, I heard two sets of footsteps.

A voice sighed. "This isn't the way." It said, not as a passing comment, it was more like an order.

"My orders dictated that I use whatever tactics necessary to-" a second voice started to protest.

"Yeah? Well I overrule whatever orders you get, and the orders your superiors get, and the orders theirsuperiors get." The first voice snapped angrily. "Look at her! This is not the way to bring her back. You are not allowed to force anything on her. Is that understood?"

"Yes." The second voice said obediently.

"Good. Now get rid of this. All of this. She has shit to do down there with that Winchester kid and this would just screw it up." The first voice, clearly the superior of the other, snapped.

"Of course." The second voice said in the same obedient, stern tone. There was a heavy sigh. "I have questions." The second voice said, seemingly confused by the words he was saying.

"Keep'em quick. I gotta thing." The superior voice said, sounding distracted.

"Why am I to report to you before my superiors? The information is the same. Why do you not speak to them?" the second voice asked.

The first voice sighed. Several more steps were taken towards me. I think they squatted down, because I felt fingers tuck hair behind my ear. "'cause I'm thinking about what's best for her; not what fits the agenda up here."

They stood with a small grunt and started to walk away. "Clean her up. Send her back, minus the memories." They ordered.

Something touched my forehead.

"Hey! Wake up Nik!"

I gasped as I set up, my chest heaving as I looked over at Sam, leaning into the car from the open driver's side door. I looked away for a few seconds, taking a few deep breaths and raking my hair back. "My turn?" I asked, mildly breathless, about to get out of the car to drive.

"Nah, you were sleeping like the dead, I just drove the rest of the way." Sam said, then held up a set of keys. "Just got us a room."

Confused, I looked out the windshield and saw a motel. "You should have let me drive." I muttered, getting out of the car.

"Hey, what were you dreaming about?" Sam asked, grabbing his duffle bag and mine before I could, leaving me with just my backpack to carry as I followed him into the motel room.

I shrugged. "Don't remember. Why?" I asked, shutting and locking the door behind me.

"You looked like you were in pain. Tried waking you up a few times." Sam said, tossing his duffle bag on the bed closest to the door, then mine on the remaining one. "A few times I was worried I had a corpse riding shotgun." He added with a small grin.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "I think the Reikis on my palms are messing with my head a little, that's all." I mumbled, mostly honest. I looked up and saw a very concerned Sam looking back at me.

"Look, if I think something's going on, I'd let you know, ok?" I asked, my hands falling to my sides.

"Ok." Sam said with a nod before going into the bathroom.

"You said you went to high school with Scott?" Mr. Carey asked Sam and me.

"Uh, yes, sir, I did." Sam said, formal but had the right amount of sadness. "We just heard about what happened."

"I'm so sorry," I put in. "We both are." I gestured towards Sam.

Scott Carey's father nodded, looking down at the floor. "Scotty was a good boy." He said, looking up at Sam and I. "He changed a lot since you knew him."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"It started about a year ago with these headaches. Then he got depressed, paranoid—nightmares." Sam looked at me, with my hands under my thighs so they wouldn't be in tight fists.

"Nightmares?" Sam asked.

"Uh, did he ever talk to you about his nightmares—What he saw?" I asked gently.

"No, no…He closed up on me." Mr. Carey said, shaking his head slightly. "I tried to get him help, but nothing took. He'd just…Lock himself in his room for days."

"You think, maybe, we could see his room?" Sam asked, flashing those puppy dog eyes. I thought Mr. Carey was going to say no, but he nodded slowly.

"Over there," he gestured to a hallway. "The last one."

I quickly followed Sam, avoiding Mr. Carey's eyes as we walked to his dead son's room."

When I stepped inside, I had to say, I was a little underwhelmed. It looked normal. Then again, I bet Sam's bedroom at Stanford looked pretty normal to.

I stood by the door, my arms crossed lousy over my chest, just taking in the details of the room. Sam seemed to be doing the same thing as he stood by the window.

"What are we looking for?" I asked softly, so Mr. Carey wouldn't hear.

Sam shrugged, kneeling down to look at some of the meds on the nightstand. "Anything, I guess." He mumbled, taking a closer look at a bottle. He glanced over his shoulder before taking a bottle and putting it in his jacket pocket.

I rolled my eyes and went to his closet. You could tell a lot about a boy by what he wore.

As I opened the doors, a florescent light came on in the back. I frowned a little, then pushed aside the hangers and clothes.

"Uh…Sam?" I asked, seeing what was on the back wall of the closet. Sam came up behind me, and had the same reaction to the back wall of the closet as I did. Some looked like drawings, others looked like they were torn from magazines, but all of them were yellow eyes. Just the eyes. No faces, just eyes. Hundreds of them.

"What do you think?" I asked as we walked through the parking lot, towards the motel room again.

"I think they gave me the mild orange chicken instead of spicy." Sam said, frowning as he threw his fork back in to the white Chinese food box he was holding.

I rolled my eyes at him. "You know that's not what I mean." I told him, swinging the plastic bag that held the rest of the Chinese food we'd walked across the street to get. "We know Scott was one of us, what now?"

Sam shrugged, picking up the fork again and digging around in the paper container. I pouted at his silence, and took a drink of my Coke. "You have the keys?" Sam asked, feeling around in his pockets.

I sighed, pulling out my set. "Men." I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, as I turned my back towards him to unlock the door.

I heard a soft gasp, then a swift thud. "Who are you?" I heard Sam demand loudly.

I spun around, dropping my food as I saw Sam pinning a browned haired woman to the sliding glass doors of the motel.

"Please! Please, you, both of you, you're in danger." She said, looking between Sam and me.

"Ok, look, I know how all this sounds, but I'm not insane and I'm not on drugs. Ok? I am normal, and this is way, way off the map for me." The brunette said, pacing around the motel room nervously.

"Al right, all right, just—just calm down, ok?" Sam said calmly from his place by the TV.

"What's your name?" I asked conversationally. I was currently sitting cross-legged on top of the table, eating my teriyaki pork with a pair of chopsticks.

"Ava. Ava Wilson." She said, taking a deep breath.

"Ok." Sam said, nodding once. "Ava, I'm Sam Winchester, all right? That's Nikki Blake." Sam said, gesturing to me. I gave a friendly smile as I stuffed a piece of pork in my mouth and used the back of my hand to wipe the sauce that smeared over my chin.

Ava smiled shakily at me before looking back at Sam, who was talking again. "Now, you were telling me about these dreams of yours?"

"Oh, yeah, uh, ok, about a year ago, I started having these, like, headaches, and just…nightmares, I guess. And, I really didn't think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in a parking lot." Ava spoke fast, still pacing and talking with her hands a lot.

I choked on my pork, and after I coughed a few times and took a drink of my Coke, I spoke. "When was this?" I asked.

"Uh, about a month ago?" Ava answered. "But, anyway, a couple of days later…" She trailed off and dug around in her stylish designer purse. "I found this."

She pulled out the newspaper clipping for Scott Carey's stabbing. I stood up, still holding my Chinese food, and stood closer to Sam, who took the article.

"I-I saw this guy die days before it happened. I don't know why. I-I don't know." Ava said, shaking her head and pacing again.

"Some reason, my dreams are coming true, and last night, I had another one." She said, stopping to stand in front of Sam.

"Ok." I said slowly, my mind spinning about what to say. "What was it about?"

"About you." Ava answered, looking up at me. "And-And him." She glanced at Sam.

"I-I saw you die." Ava continued, looking at Sam. My eyes widened and I roughly set my teriyaki pork down as my heart started to beat double time.

"How'd you find me?" Sam asked after his brief moment of stunned silence.

"Oh, uh, you had motel stationary, and I Googled the motel, and it was real, and so I just thought that I should warn you." Ava explained quickly.

Sam laughed once, just a quiet exhale through the nose as he shook his head. "I don't believe this." He finally said.

"Oh, oh, of course you don't." Ava said, misunderstanding. "You think I'm a total nut job."

"No! No, no I mean you must be one of us." Sam blurted out.

"Sorry, one of—one of who?" Ava asked, rubbing her temple.

"He means one of the psychics, like him," I explained. "And, well, me, I guess."

"Look, Ava," I said, taking a step closer. "Sam, he has visions too. Me, on the other hand, I'm a little more complicated, we'll talk about that later, but the point it, we-" I gestured between the three of us. "We're connected."

Ava started to laugh, a fake, almost condescending laugh. "Ok, so…you're nuts. That's great." I frowned a little and looked at Sam.

"No, ok, ok, ok, look." Sam said, still calm. "Did your mother happen to die in a house fire?"

"No, my mother lives in Palm Beach." Ava said.

"So you don't fit the pattern, either." Sam sighed, glancing at me.

"What?" Ava asked, clearly scared and confused.

"Why can't we just leave town? Before you blow up and you-!" Ava stopped herself as she looked at me.

"Before I what?" I asked, putting down the cold teriyaki pork I was eating. Ava looked away quickly. She'd been avoiding that question.

"Ava," I said warningly. "Before, I, what?" I asked slowly. My gut had this feeling that something was wrong. Something.

"No, I can't." Sam said to Ava, ignoring my little demand.

"Oh, God. Why not?" Ava asked, practically whining.

"Because there's something going on here, Ava, with you, with me, with Nik. I mean, there are others like us out there, and we're all a part of something. And I've got to figure out what."

"Ok, you know what? Screw you, buddy." Ava said, pointing a finger in Sam's face. I raised an eyebrow at her. I started chanting 'Friends. Friends. Friends. Friends.' Over and over in my head again, because I kind of wanted to smack this girl, but, as Sam's friend I didn't really have a reason to.

"Ok, 'cause I'm a secretary from Peoria, and I'm not part of anything!" She said, holding her hands up. Do you see this?" She asked, shoving a hand in Sam's face, her thumb spinning the large engagement ring on her finger.

"I'm getting married in eight weeks!" Ava kept talking, making Sam more uncomfortable by the second. "I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way.

"But, instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass and to keep the lid on your girlfriend!" Ava threw an arm out towards me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, standing up.

"But if you just want to stay here and die, fine!" Ava said, frowning. "Me? I'm due back on planet Earth." She snapped as she grabbed her bag and walked towards the door.

"Don't you wanna know why this is happening?" Sam asked, making Ava stop. "I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? 'Cause if you walk out the door right now, you might never know the truth."

Damn, did Sam have a way with words.

"Look, we need your help." I put in, walking a little closer to Ava. I turned my head a little as I looked at her. "And just admit it, you wanna know what's going on, don't you?" I asked knowingly.