Well, this is a little shorter than the last one. But the next one's a total monster-chapter. And, as an incentive for you guys to leave me a review, Chapter 87 sheds some light on Nikki's past, and, begins to answer the question; What about Chris?

And, to answer you question Dancerline, yes, I do research on all the plants I mention. No, if you ingested braken fern dust, you probably wouldn't fall asleep and have livid, lucid dreams about a stalker-being watching you since birth (you'd more than likely get sick or something). The research I do is more related to what properties ancient apothecaries and actual Wicca believe, as well as folk lore and some old wives tales believe.

If anybody else has any questions, I'm more than happy to answer them!

~Christianne

Nikki POV

"I don't like this." I said simply, walking with Sam and Dean, both dressed as security technicians.

"Yeah, well I didn't like those brown noodles I ate last night." Dean snapped.

"That was Lo Mein, and you didn't have to get that." I snapped back.

"Will you two just shut up?" Sam, who was between us, finally cut in.

"I still don't like this. I have a bad feeling." I said again, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my cargo jacket.

"I have a bad feeling." Dean said mockingly as we crossed the street to walk up the stairs to the bank.

"Ok, you know what-" I tried to grab Dean's collar, but Sam put both arms around my waist, picked me up, turned around and put me on the step below.

"What is with you two?" he asked, looking between me and his brother. "Seriously! The teasing was fine, but what the Hell happened?"

Dean and I met gazes, and I knew what he was thinking. Last night, while Sam was out finding a good place to park the Impala while we were at the bank, Dean and I had ended up going at it over my feelings for Sam. Dean didn't think it was good for me to just sit there and do nothing; we put our lives in each other's hands, and me keeping this from him was a huge, unpredictable variable that would come back to bite me in the ass. I, on the other hand, argued that if I did have the 'No, I really, like you' talk with Sam, and he didn't agree with that; that'd be worse than me not telling him. It'd end up being too much for me to be around Sam, all the time, knowing that he knows I'd stop the sun from setting for him, and he doesn't feel the same. It would end up with us drifted apart, and me on my own.

That image, me hunting and figuring out my Wicca link to the demon on my own was enough to make Dean shut his pie hole. But not enough to make him to drop it.

"Nothing." I said finally. "I'm not going in there as a fake security technician. I'm going in there as a civilian, so I'm gonna go back to the Impala to get my damn pocket knife, 'cause I'm not going in there, where a shapeshifter might be, without a weapon!" I said this all in a hushed voice (and one breath), so no one would hear me.

Before Sam or Dean could say anything, I turned around and walked at a good clip until I got to the Impala.

When I got to the parking garage, I exhaled loudly, resting my hands on the concrete ledge and closing my eyes tightly. They were burning, threatening to let tears drop.

I sucked in a breath, and started hitting the ledge with my fist, letting it all out.

Once I couldn't take the pain in my hand anymore, I stopped and leaned on the bumper of the Impala, my good hand hanging at my sides, and I held my beat-up one up.

I swallowed, turning my face onto my shoulders a few times to wipe those few rebel tears that slipped out off my cheeks. I took a shaky breath and put my good hand behind me on the hood so I could lean back on it.

I did have to do something. I couldn't keep looking at Sam and wishing I could just crawl onto his lap, put my arms around his neck and kiss him, or wish I could lean into his side when we walked and know he'd put his arm around me, give me a squeeze and kiss the top of my head, or snuggle into his chest at night after I had a nightmare, when I knew—knew—that he want that too. When I first started dating Percy, Chris told me that I had this look in my eyes that I only had when Percy was around. 'Like inside you're having one hell'a'va party, and on the outside you're at Cinderella's ball.' It never really made sense to me, but I'll bet anything that when I looked at Sam when the three of us were eating Chinese food at 3 am last night, I had that look in my eyes.

When he looks at me the same way he looks at every other girl who stares him (I mean, who wouldn't), it just kills me. Just like it killed me when he laughed at the idea of us being a couple. Any rational woman would just leave it and move on. I mean, I was in a new town practically every night. I know I'm pretty good looking, so getting guys attention was never really an issue. In the past it was keeping it off me because I was either with Percy, or waitressing. But that idea just made me feel like a slut. That Sam, had a painful, crushing effect on my heart.

But then there was the Sam who gave me his jacket because he thought I was cold. The one who stayed with me in my hospital after the fire at Greg and Olivia's house, even when the nurses told him to get out. Or jumped in a pool and gave me CPR, drew anit-magic symbols on my palms, got me Chinese food and told me if I ever wanted to talk about my dreams I could come to him, no matter the time. That Sam, made a life revolving around killing things worth it.

Sucking in a deep breath, I focused on my hand again. The blood was starting to dry, and the pain was dulling.

Instead of trying the self-healing incantation, I sucked in a breath and focused. All my anger that Dean couldn't let me handle this on my own. All my pain that Sam looked at me the same way he did all the stupid girls that stared at his ass. All my frustration about my Wicca abilities, the connection to the demon, and the new character in play; Fake Chris. And, most of all, the feeling of being completely in the dark and overwhelmed about everything in my life.

Lightning. My eyes snapped open when I heard lightning crack across the sky. I got off the Impala quickly and went to look outside. I got there just in time to see the last fading shapes of the white streak across the sky.

After the streak was completely gone, I looked down at my hand.

Good as new. Not even a scar or a scab.

I took a deep, calming breath and looked out at the cloudy sky for a few more seconds.

I went back to the Impala and got the small pocket knife (with a silver blade) from my backpack. It was a gift from Jeremy. I was partial to the larger hunting knife I'd gotten from the boys, but when I was going into a bank, I thought this would be better. I didn't want to go into a bank, full of people, in a big city, with a seven inch hunting knife on my belt.

I stuck it in the pocket of my cargo jacket and headed back to the bank.

It was only a 5 minute walk, and in those 5 minutes, I used every technique I knew to try to calm myself.

Walking up to the doors of the bank, I tried to push them open. They moved, but didn't open. I frowned and tried again. Still didn't open. I heard the sirens of police cars and whipped around. I could already see the lights.

Pushing away from the door, I sprinted across the street and didn't stop until I was in the shadows of an ally a few buildings away. I waited for a few minutes before I walked back.

"What's going on?" I asked a person in the crowd, trying my best to act like the rest of the people.

"A robbery I think. I dunno, some wacko in there has a gun." The girl said. She wasn't much younger than me, maybe 19 or 20.

Damnit Dean, what the Hell did you do?