At last! Another chapter!

I'm sorry it took me a little while...Don't be mad at me! *puppy-dog eyes*

~Christianne

PS~ This might not be as pretty as some of my chapters are.

Nikki POV

I slid my gaze to the left when I heard some high-pitched laughter. I saw some bottle-blondes giggling and rolling their eyes at me.

"I hate everyone." I sighed, sticking another forkful of roast beef in my mouth and staring out the window.

Several minutes later, I got a phone call; Sam and Dean were in town and going to stop by the police station before they met up with me.

"Ah, no pretty girl should ever eat alone." Zack said as he slid into the chair next to me.

"I hate everyone." I said again, looking at my plate.

"Jee, that's a real nice thing to say to the guy who's going to help you find demons." Zack scoffed, grabbing a couple of my French fries.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You know, my best friend—she's a nurse now…dropped out of med school a few weeks before her exams."

"…Great." Zack said, with mock interest and enthusiasm.

"And what am I?" I asked, putting my fork down and finally looking at the blond. "I'm a Yale dropout with no job, no steady income and I have, like, three friends."

Zack frowned. "First, you have four friends—and you do have a job; you're kinda getting rid of my worst enemies here."

"You don't count." I told Zack.

"Why the hell don't I count?" Zack protested, reaching for more fries. I smacked his hand away. "It's because I'm a demon, isn't it? You know, that's racist."

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window as I heard the Impala outside. When I looked back at Zack, he was gone. Typical. The least he could have done was actually help me find these guys like he said he would.

Sam and Dean were inside the diner within seconds of the Impala turning off. My eyes widened, and I quickly got up, but they were already at the table.

"Hey Nik," Sam said, smiling as he sat down. I sighed and fell back into my chair.

"I thought I told you guys I'd meet you in the parking lot." I mumbled, my eyes darting around the diner.

"I'm hungry." Dean grunted, making Sam roll his eyes.

"Me too, Nikki…Drove all night." He said, already skimming the menu.

"Yeah, I'll meet you at my ro-"

"Nikki?"

"Shit." I hissed, raking a hand through my hair, grabbing at the roots as a redheaded woman, who was holding a stocky brunet man's hand rushed over to me.

"OhmyGod!" She squealed, grinning and bouncing a little. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Six years." I commented, playing with the rim of my Sprite glass and wished it had alcohol in it.

"Are you in town for the party?" She asked, flipping her hair over her shoulders.

"Party?" Dean asked, looking at me. I was rubbing my temples with the heels of my hands so hard it almost hurt.

"Yeah…Melissa's throwing a 'They're-Tearing-Down-Our-School Party.'" I sighed, letting my hands drop down to the table.

"No silly—that's in a few days. I'm talking about the get-together at the ore docks tonight." The redhead, her name was Cassi, said, still grinning.

"Nope, not going." I muttered, not that she heard.

"Who are you're friends?" Cassi asked, looking at Sam and Dean.

"Uh…we're-" Sam started to speak.

"They're hunters." I stated. "They drive across the country fighting vampires, demons and ghosts; stuff like that." I saw Sam and Dean giving me 'what the hell?' looks, and Dean even gave my shin a sharp kick.

Cassi giggled. "Oh Nikki, you're so silly." She said, ruffling my hair. Sam and Dean now gave me a different version of the 'what the hell?' look. I just shrugged, and clenched my teeth when she ruffled my hair; I really wanted to punch her.

"You all have to come to the party—nine o'clock sharp!" Cassi said, grabbing a napkin and scribbling the time and place down on a napkin with a pen from her purse. "If you don't show, I'll find you and drag you there." She said the mock threat to all of us, before giving us a sparkly wave (the way Cassi waved could only be described as 'sparkly') before she dragged her unnamed man away with her as she left.

Sam and Dean looked at me blankly. "Ok—what the hell?" Dean asked.

I shrugged. "I love being home, I do…" I trailed off. "It's just that I've changed and no one else here has." I said simply. I looked at the napkin with distaste, balled it up in my fist and dropped it in the unused water glass between Sam and me.

"I guess we're not going to that party." Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

"What'd you find out?" I asked, picking at my cold roast beef as Sam and Dean ate there perspective meals (a grilled chicken sandwich for Sam, a bacon cheeseburger for Dean).

"Well, there was sulfur at the station." Dean said, taking a massive bite of his burger, and groaning as he started to chew.

"Yeah…" Sam said, rolling his eyes at Dean. "There's been an increase of crime in the surrounding towns too."

"When did it start?" I asked, stealing a cherry tomato from Sam's side salad. He frowned at me, and I made a face in return.

"'bout two weeks ago." Dean said, taking a long drink from his Coke. He put it down and looked at me oddly. "Why? That mean somethin' to you?" He asked.

I'd been frowning as he answered. I shrugged and shook my head. "No…Not really." I admitted.

"So, I was thinking we should take a look at the archives; see if something big is coming up." Sam said.

"Something big is coming up; the fire." I told them.

"The fire?" Dean asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Yeah, October 8, 1871." I nodded.

"October—I thought that's the Chicago Fire." Sam pointed out.

"Sam day," I told him. "People forget about Peshtigo. It was the most deadly firestorm in US history." I looked briefly between Sam and Dean, who's expressions told me to continue.

"The Chicago Fire killed an estimated 300 people; the Peshtigo Fire killed upwards of 2,500. On the day of the Peshtigo Fire, a cold front moved in from the west, bringing strong winds that fanned the fires out of control and escalated them to massive proportions. A firestorm ensued. A firestorm is called nature's nuclear explosion. Here's a wall of flame, a mile high, five miles wide, traveling 90 to 100 miles per hour, hotter than a crematorium—hot enough to turning sand into glass. By the time it was over, 1,875 square miles—1.2 million acres—of forest had been consumed, that about twice the size of Rhode Island. Twelve communities were destroyed. More than 350 bodies were buried in a mass grave, primarily because so many had died that no one remained alive who could identify them.

"The fire jumped across the Peshtigo River and burned on both sides of the town. Some people escaped the flames by jumping in the Peshtigo River, wells, or other bodies of water. Some drowned, others succumbed to hypothermia in the frigid river—those who couldn't swim well enough to get deep enough boiled in the shallow parts of the fiver. The Green Island Light was kept lit during the day because of the obscuring smoke, but the three-masted schooner George L. Newman was wrecked offshore; the entire crew died.

"At the same time, another fire burned parts of the Door Peninsula; because of the coincidence, some incorrectly assumed that the fire had jumped across the waters of Green Bay. There use to be a convent here—it burned—and Sister Adele Brise and other nuns, farmers, and families fled to a chapel for protection. There they prayed to the Virgin Mary, and even though the chapel was surrounded by flames, there wasn't a charred brick on it. The people inside the chapel should have died due to smoke inhalation, but they all lived." I paused and took a drink of my Sprite. "There were some priests from the Vatican here in the 60s, seeing if it was a real miracle. They said what they found wasn't definitive, but they blessed the chapel, and said that it was the hand of God who saved all those people."

Sam and Dean just blinked at me.

"I thought you were gonna write your dissertation on Janesville." Sam said after a few moments.

I shrugged, looking down at the table with a sheepish smile. "I dunno…I was kinda a history geek in high school." I admitted. "I didn't go to football games or anything; I hung out in the library."

"Sounds familiar." Dean said, smirking at Sam and nudging his little brother's side with his elbow. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"But there are supposed to be demons." I frowned, pouting a little; the more I thought about it, the more Zack was looking like a liar.

Sam shrugged. "Let's go to the library and see what we find." He offered.

After Sam and Dean finished eating, I got in the Impala (I'd been walking everywhere; I missed the streets) with Sam and Dean and we drove to the local library.

"Hey, we'd like to take a look at the archives." Sam said to the 30-ish woman behind the desk.

"Sorry, they aren't open to the public." She sighed, looking up only after Sam spoke. She looked right at me. "Oh—Hey, I know you." She said, standing. She bit her lip, trying to place me. In my head, I was chanting 'Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me.'

"I got it! You're Nikki! The orphan kid Mr. and Mrs. Harper took in!" She said, grinning.

I saw Sam and Dean look between me and the girl in mild shock. "Yeah…I am." I said, a weak smile on my face.

"I gotta go get Jillian—don't go anywhere!" She said over her shoulder, jogging to the library office.

"'The orphan kid'?" Dean repeated, looking at me in shock. "I thought people were supposed to be nice in a small town."

"They are," I said defensively. "It's just…" I trailed off, shrugging. "I mean—everyone here has a thing, you know?" I looked between them. "I'm the only lifetime-foster kid in the town that didn't run off with a boyfriend at 15 or get caught doing drugs. I was taken in by one of the most well-liked and well-known families here." I paused again. "I'm the orphaned kid."

Sam had his brows furrowed, turned up in the middle a little bit, and was about to say something when I heard a low, soft laugh. I grinned and walked around the counter to give Jillian, the elderly owner of the library, a hug. She was the only one in Peshtigo who'd give a 13-year-old foster kid a job in Peshtigo.

"Oh, how have you been dear?" She asked, using one of her wrinkled, paper-skinned hands to smooth my curls. Jillian was the grandmother I never had.

"Great," I assured her. I was an excellent liar now. "Think me and my friends can have a look through the archives?"

"Oh, sweetie—you don't even have to ask."

My phone rang and I sighed sadly as I hit 'Decline.' It'd rang three times in the last hour.

"Who is it?" Dean asked, he was paging through a book on the table, chin lazily in his palm. Sam was across from him, looking a little more interested. I was on the floor, cross-legged, surrounded by dozens of different files.

"Dani. She was my best friend here," I sighed. "Saw her yesterday…she wants to get together and…talk 'n…stuff."

"Why don't you?" Sam asked, frowning a little.

"Same reason I haven't talked to Wendy, Trevor or Jeremy since I left Janesville the last time." I said. "Normal people should stay normal, and they shouldn't around what I do…what we do."

Sam and Dean looked a little surprised at my pessimistic tone, but said nothing. They knew was right.

"Hey Nik…What year did your Civil-War-Look-Alike die?" Dean asked after a moment or two.

"1876, why?" I asked, not looking up.

"Did she have an Aunt 'er someone named Mable?" He asked.

My head shot up. "Yeah…Her dad's sister. How'd you know?" I asked, getting up and walking to the table. Dean was looking at a newspaper article from a few days before the fire. It told about the sad, early death of Mable-Marie Howard. Her funeral was supposed to be the day of the fire, and her brother and niece where supposed to attend.

"Wow…" I said, batting Dean's hands away as I looked closer at the article. "So-So she was here?" I asked, looking up at Sam and Dean. They just shrugged.

"Guess so…That change anything?" Dean asked me. I thought for a moment, and shrugged.

"Not…Not really, I guess." I admitted. "This was before she was possessed, so…"

I took the article (and the book it was in) and went off to do a different type of research, while Sam and Dean stuck with the fire.

"Ok, demons can possess anyone, right?" Sam thought out loud.

"I don't get why they'd pick someone here though." I spoke up. "I mean, everyone here goes to church every Sunday, and I'll bet you anything we're the only three people in town who don't either have a cross tattooed on their body, or wear one around their neck."

"That redhead wasn't wearing one." Dean pointed out.

"Cassi doesn't live here…Moved to Green Bay for collage." I told him, trailing off as I realized what I was saying.

Dean had a teasing, playful smirk on his face. "Looks like we are going to that party."

"Why do they call it the ore docks?" Sam asked as Dean drove to the party. It'd taken them two hours, a few milkshakes and a dozen fresh baked cookies from my favorite bakery to convince me to go.

"'cause they're ore docks." I said with a shrug. "Back in the 30s, Peshtigo's main export was iron ore. They built these massive ore docks to get trainloads of the stuff onto boats. The company shut down in 2000, the ore docks were abandoned. The city bought them and you can rent the lower deck for parties and stuff." I explained.

"Hm." Dean said, nodding a little as he pulled the Impala to a stop by all the other cars.

"I hate you both." I sighed, getting out of the back seat. "I hate everyone."

They stayed silent as I led them towards the tall, massive structure that stuck out over the river. I started to climb the stairs, and was gnawing on my lip the whole time. At the top, I froze; the toes of my boots were at the edge of the slightly rusted metal that was over the water. Dean went around me and towards the (free) bar, Sam stayed next to me.

"You'll be fine." He said lowly, smiling a little. I looked over my shoulder and up at him, getting a smile. I gave a shaky one back and stepped out onto the first dock. It was about fifteen feet above the water.

I hung around Sam mostly, he got me a beer, which I drank quickly then took his and drank half of it in one long gulp. Sam just chuckled and went to get us more booze. That's when I heard the voice of the devil himself.

"Hey! Look who showed up! Nixxie!"

My hand tightened around the bottle in my hand. I took a slow, deep breath as I turned around; I didn't want to shatter all the bottles on the deck like I did in Ellen's bar. I slowly turned around and looked at the man standing a few feet behind me. He was about 5'9", black hair, glasses, and was wearing a plain long-sleeved t-shirt rolled up to his elbows. I could see the tattoo of a dream catcher on his inner left arm. He was one-sixty-fourth Ojibwa; the tattoo was pointless at best. And a little insulting depending on who you ask.

"Percy." I said flatly, letting him come closer, and closing my eyes and not breathing as he wrapped his arms around me in a brief hug. I could've boiled his heart in his body (I strongly considered it), but that'd cause too much of a scene.

"I didn't know you were in town," he said, finally letting me go.

"Yeah…Didn't really plan on it." I muttered, keeping my face emotionless. How could he think he could just act so friendly around me? I mean, I kinda wanted to stab his face.

"I heard you left school," he said, taking a drink from the glass in his hand; bourbon, neat.

"Yeah…Like, two years ago." I said slowly, looking for Sam or Dean to save me from this guy.

"Oh…Well, what have you been doing?" He asked me, fixing his glasses with his pinky before taking a drink.

"Oh…You know…Stuff…Been on a bit of a road trip." I said vaguely, giving up.

"Sounds fun." He said with his classic grin. As much as I hated Percy, when I looked at him, I couldn't help but feel like a sophomore crushing on the junior guy with the nerdy glasses on the math team.

"Why are you here?" I asked a little too flatly. Percy didn't graduate with me and the rest of the people here; he was a grade ahead of me.

"Found Mellissa online, and we started talking. She invited me as a guest." He said with a smile, making me roll my eyes and take a drink of my beer. Percy took a drink, and we stood in awkward silence for a while. I purposely didn't say anything; if it was awkward enough he might leave.

"I graduated last year," Percy said, breaking the silence, still smiling.

"Economics and general social psychology, right?" I asked him. Percy's goal in life had been to end poverty.

"Yup," he said proudly. "Top of my class."

"Great," I said, looking around the deck.

"So, you come here with someone?" Percy asked casually. I couldn't tell if he was curious or interested.

"Came with two friends…as friends…" I answered him. I cleared my throat. "What about you?"

Percy smiled, and even blushed a little. "Came with my fiancée."

My eyebrows raised up. "Oh."

"Yeah…She's over there," Percy said, pointing to our left. "In the green dress."

"She," I repeated, my eyebrows still raised up.

"Uh…Y-Yeah…" Percy didn't sound nervous, like he was caught in a lie. He sounded sheepish. "After we broke up, I had to do a little soul searching." He started off. "I guess you could say…I play for both teams."

I don't think my eyebrows were ever going to back down. "Oh." I said again, finally looking to where Percy pointed. Sure enough, there was a slim, leggy strawberry-blonde girl in a tasteful green cocktail dress waiting at the bar.

She was the exact opposite of me. I had thick, curly dark hair that's size depended on the humidity; Percy's new girl had smooth, straight light hair with just a little bit of bounce, opposed to mine that just about vibrated with every breath I took. She was tall and slender. I was on the shorter side, and was perfectly happy with the fact that I actually had an ass, hips and boobs—I could do without the little bit of greasy-burger fat on my stomach and thighs that wouldn't go away no matter how any spirits I chased, but it wasn't anything I as too worried about. I could see the clean, shiny pink nail polish on her manicured fingers, and my own bitten, unpainted, dirt-and-blood-under-them nails of my free hand curled into a fist at my side. She was wearing a girly, fancy cocktail dress with a ladylike scoop neck, a shiny beige purse under her arm and matching shiny beige flats; I was wearing a nicer pair of skinny jeans, a dark blue v-neck t-shirt with the CJ's logo on the front under my leather jacket and Converse on my feet. She was wearing pearls around her neck, and a big shiny engagement ring o her hand; the only jewelry I was wearing was Chris's necklace, which was getting a little tarnished from constantly rubbing on my skin and wearing it everywhere, including when I was sweating at night and showering in cold motel water. I had a completely un-made-up face; she had a clear face, pink painted lips and that cool eyeliner thing I just can't pull off, or do in general.

"Guess I was right…I'm not your type." I said with dry, half-assed humor.

Percy's eyes crinkled as he laughed, then shook his head. "Aw, you'll always be my type Nixxe." He teased, reaching towards me; to tweak my nose no doubt.

I leaned away and rolled my eyes. "Don't call me Nixxie." I told him sternly. Greg, Olivia and Chris gave me the nickname; Percy used it now and then towards the end of our relationship.

Percy sighed, shaking his head slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry what happened between us," Percy said. "I am."

"Well good for you." I said flatly. I was about to say more, but Percy's fiancée came over, a martini in her hand; opposed to my beer.

"Hey sweetie," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek and link her arm with his. "Who's this?" she asked, still smiling, and looking at me. She was a good three inches taller than me.

"Lucy, this is Nikki," Percy introduced us. "We dated in high school."

I scoffed. "And three years into college." I tacked on.

Lucy either didn't care about what I said, or was too stupid to understand it. She flashed me a pearly smile. "It's great to meet you," she said, moving her drink to the hand of the arm linked with Percy's, and holding the other hand out for me to shake; the hand with the ring on it. It was his great-grandmothers. When we were in high school, Percy used to tell me that he was going to give me that ring when we graduated Yale. I didn't take her hand. I just gave her a half-assed smile.

"Hey Nik." Well thank the lord and heaven all mighty; Sam was finally back. I quickly downed the rest of my beer, tossed it in the trash can a few feet from me and took the new beer Sam was holding out to me, taking a quick drink. "Uh…I'm Sam." He said when I didn't say anything.

"Percy," my dark haired ex said, taking his hand. I saw Sam quickly process the situation, and shoot me a glance. I looked away. "This is my fiancée, Lucy." Percy introduced the blonde. Sam, clearly a little confused, shook her hand.

"That a light beer, Nikki?" I heard Percy ask teasingly. As I took another drink, I sent him a sidelong glare, trying to tell him to tread carefully.

"No, it's not." Sam answered for me, a little more defensive than necessary.

"Might wanna consider switching Nix," Percy said, still teasing. "You're a little bigger than when I knew you." He added. He reached out, and pinched the curve of my hip, making me jump and choke on my beer. I ended up spitting out a mouthful of beer, it dribble over my chin and onto my shirt in a very unladylike fashion. Sam was glaring at Percy, and took my beer so I could wipe my mouth and chin with my sleeve.

"Uh…So Sam, what do you do?" Lucy asked, a little uncomfortable by my guess.

He shrugged. "Sorta between things now." He said vaguely, handing me back my beer.

Percy looked over his shoulder, and waved to someone. "Hey, it was great seeing you, Nix," he said with a smile. "See you later?" He asked, leading Lucy towards the people he waved too.

I bit the inside of my cheek, and looked down at the white toes of my Converse, waiting. "You dated that guy?" Sam finally asked.

"Yup." I grumbled, looking up at my best friend. "Apparently, he plays for both teams." I used his words.

"Oh." Was all Sam said.

"Yeah." I muttered. After a few minutes of standing in silence, I felt a hand fall on my shoulder and squeeze softly. I looked up at Sam, who had an empathetic look on his face.

"I really hate him."

I went off to find Dean, who had all but forgotten about why we were here; to flush out demons. He'd found a little group of single girls and was smirking and flirting to his heart's content. I caught up with a few people I'd been friendly with, and got nothing.

After I walked away from Lauren, a sweet girl who was in the marching band, I stood at the back of the ore docks staring out at Lake Michigan.

"I know why you're here." I heard someone say behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Lucy walking towards me. I scoffed lightly and smirked at her. "You do?"

"Yes, I do." Lucy said, coming to a stop in front of me. "You're here to win Percy back." She accused, crossing her skinny arms.

I snorted. "Yeah," I laughed. "Yeah, that's why I'm here."

"Don't play dumb with me," Lucy snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I saw how you were looking at him."

"…Like I wanted to stab his hand with a fork?" I offered, shrugging a little.

Lucy rolled her eyes and cocked her hip. "He told me what happened between you two."

"Really? He told you about how I walked in on him and my best friend Aaron?" I asked her.

"He told me that you're a prude," she said, her nose wrinkling slightly.

"Excuse me?" I half-laughed, cocking my hip.

"Percy knew he was bi since he was 16." Lucy snapped at me. "He told me it was never really an issue, so he never brought it up. He only got the wandering eye because you only like to do it one way."

Thoroughly stunned, all I could do was stare at Lucy. I'm not a slut or anything (going on a two and a half year dry spell, actually), but I wasn't a prude either. I let out a cynical laugh, just one, and shook my head. "Who the hell are you to tell me this crap?" I accused her.

"Someone has too; you're too delicate, Nikki." Lucy said condescendingly.

"Delicate?" I repeated, shocked, then snorted. "You're dumber than I thought." Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"I get it, ok?" I told her, holding my hands out a little. "I get it; Percy's smart, good looking, and he knows how to make you feel special. But just you wait until you tell him you don't want to have kids—you're gonna be runnin' for the hills sweetheart."

Lucy huffed, her eyes narrowing more. "I've heard a lot about you," she said appraisingly. "They all said you were powerful…I don't see it."

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Maybe you need your eyes checked." I spat sarcastically.

"No…No I think they're alright." Lucy blinked, her eyes turned shiny black. "Do they look alright?"

"Sam! Dean! Get-!"

I hit the water before I got the words out.

Omniscient POV

"Sam! Dean! Get-!"

Sam spun around at the sound of his name being yelled, and it was followed by a short scream loud splash.

Sam, without thinking, ran towards where he heard the splash. He looked over the edge of the deck; there was only a six or seven inch steel lip over the edge. He could just make out the shape of someone struggling in the dark water. Without a second though, Sam jumped in after Nikki.

It was dark; the light from the party didn't give much light way down here. As his eyes adjusted, he took a deep breath and went under the frigid water.

He saw Nikki a few feet away, her eyes pinched shut tight, and air leaving her mouth and bubbling to the surface as she fought to get to the surface. Sam quickly swam to her and grabbed her arm, wrenching her towards him and kicked his legs until they were at the surface. Nikki gasped for air and spat out water. Her eyes were still pinched tight, and she was fighting Sam's grip. Her heels kicked his thighs and shins, her elbows jabbed at his ribs and her nails clawed at his hands.

Sam dragged her towards the shore, where Dean was waiting with a blanket to wrap Nikki up in. Sam let Dean take Nikki, and he sat in the rocky sand for a few moments, catching his breath. He looked up, and saw two people standing by the edge of the deck, looking down at him and Dean. Sam's eyes narrowed and his cheek twitched.

He threw his sopping jacket in the trunk of the Impala, and slammed it shut. He spun around and started walking back towards the stairs to the dock where the party was. He heard Dean yelling behind him, but he didn't turn around.

Dean, frustrated, locked Nikki in the Impala (after throwing another jacket over her) and ran after Sam, who was already on the dock.

"Yeah, so, I told him-Hey! Heyheyhey! Dude—what the hell?" Percy yelled when Sam grabbed his arm, spun him around, grabbed his collar and slammed him against a rusty beam.

"You knew her for years," Sam spat at Percy. "If you knew her at all, you knew how damn scared she is of the water."

Percy looked at Sam, mildly confused. "Who? Nikki?" Then he snorted. "Oh God—She's still afraid of water?"

Percy didn't get to keep laughing; Sam threw a painful punch in his face, and pushed him harder against the beam. "You know, you could have killed her."

"Hey! Hey leave him alone!" Sam heard a feminine voice yell, and a hand weakly pull at his shoulder. He, without looking away from Percy (who was sporting a bloody nose), roughly shoved Lucy back.

Sam heard Dean yelling for people to get off the deck. Percy's protests were drowned out by a loud crash. Sam shoved Percy towards the stairs (which he sprinted down), and went to help Dean. He'd been thrown into the bar, and was half-drenched in alcohol from broken booze bottles.

Before Sam ask what happened, he was thrown back fifty feet, sliding painfully on the rusted dock. He could hear Dean yelling for people to get out and go home. Propping himself up on his elbows, Sam saw Lucy strutting around, a hand on her hip.

"The Winchesters…You know, I heard you guys had picked up a witch," she sighed. "She'd have to be a pretty high caliber for you two to think she's a witch worth keeping around."

"She's a Wiccan." Sam spat as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Right…Right…" Lucy sighed, not really paying attention to what Sam was saying, she was just walking closer and closer to him.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio-Oh shit!" Dean's exorsicm was cut off when he was suddenly flung fifty feet in the air until his back was slammed against the top of the next deck.

Lucy had her hand dismissively out to the side, holding Dean up, as she kept walking towards Sam.

"Everyone keeps telling me 'stay away from the Winchesters,'" Lucy sighed. She was so closed to Sam now he could reach out at touch her. "But…You guys aren't that scary." She dropped her hand.

Dean braced himself for the impact of the deck, but never felt anything. He cautiously opened his eyes, and saw the rusted floor of the deck just a few inches from his nose. Lucy had put her hand back out, catching him. Lucy enjoyed this; she liked playing with her food like a lioness.

"That exorcism wouldn't have worked, Dean," Lucy sighed, dropping her hand. Dean fell the last six inches onto the floor with a grunt. He propped himself up on his forearms and slowly looked up at Lucy with rage in his eyes. Lucy grabbed the sensible hemline of her cocktail dress and hiked it high up her tight, revealing a tattoo; formerly anit-possession tattoo, but there was an ugly, reddish scar over the bottom half of it. "I've been rockin' this seamstress since 1934. I'm a bit hard to get rid of at this point."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked harshly. Lucy slid her gaze slowly to the younger Winchester and a smirk grew on her lips.

"You know, I've done things to Percy Nikki would never dream of doing," she said lowly, her smirk growing more sensual. "And he's still hung up on her…I can see why she's moved on though."

Dean was still in a pretty good amount of pain, and his ears were ringing slightly from his slam to the roof. He managed to get a little closer to the bar, and reached one hand out, trying to look for a plastic container he'd seen earlier; margarita salt.

Lucy was only a few inches from Sam now. "They say you boys are pretty handsome…But you Sammy," she paused, giggled a little and bit her lip as she reached out and put a hand on Sam's chest. Sam hadn't realized he'd been walking backwards until his heel hit the lip on the edge of the deck. His arms briefly flailed back behind him, hitting nothing but air.

She got up on her tiptoes and leaned forward to whisper in Sam's ear. "You make me wanna sin in ways that'd make a demon blush."

Leaning back as much as he could, Sam's face curled slightly in disgust. "It's Sam." Lucy just giggled again.

"Tell you what…" Lucy said, louder this time so Dean could hear. "I'll make you a deal."

"I-I think we'd like to keep our souls, thanks," Sam spat, dangerously close to taking another swim.

"Aw…You hurt my feelings." Lucy pouted, her fingers flicking Sam's sweatshirt away before they began playing with the buttons on Sam's flannel. "Now you have to make it up to me."

Before Sam could spit something out, Lucy screeched in pain. Dean had found the margarita salt, and dumped the whole plastic container on Lucy's head. One arm wound around her neck in a choke hold, the other was flat on the bottom of the container, holding it over her head.

Dean yanked Lucy away from Sam, letting his brother come away from the edge. Lucy continued to scream in pain and claw at Dean's arms as he tried to choke her into submission—not that it worked. If anything, it just pissed her off.

Lucy threw a hand forward, stopping Sam in his tracks. He let out a pained groan, grabbed his stomach and stumbled to his knees.

"Sammy?" Dean yelled, both angry and infuriated about what this bitch was doing to his little brother. In his moment of worry, he was thrown back by Lucy. Instead of hitting the bar this time, he was thrown into the bottles behind it. He let out a strangled hiss of pain as he landed on the bottles, his weight breaking them. The glass pierced his skin, while the alcohol was soaked up by his shirt and stung like a bitch.

Lucy whipped the plastic bucket off her head, and looked down at Dean with heaving breaths. There was pink margarita salt in her blonde hair, and her skin had gone from smooth and milky, to red and sizzling. Sam had his cheek pressed to the cool deck, trying to sooth the feverish feeling that had broken out over his face and try to keep the nausea at bay. It didn't work Sam, after a little coughing, spat out a mouthful of half-digested chicken sandwich, bile and blood.

"You asshole!" Lucy screeched down at Dean, who was taking quick, shallow breaths. She gritted her teeth and wound her leg back before giving Dean a swift, painful kick in the ribs.

Sam coughed up more blood, his eyes closed tight in pain.

"I don't care if there's already a contract out on you, I'm going to rip you apart-" Lucy was cut off when a six inch knife was imbedded in her neck. Dean could see the tip piercing out of the opposite side of her neck. Lowly, Lucy turned her head to the left, where the knife came from.

Nikki was standing at the top of the steps. She held one arm out, aiming the antique pistol towards Lucy. "You've been around long enough to hear about the Colt, right?" She asked, a rare cocky tone in her voice.

Lucy slowly backed away from Dean, pulled the knife from her neck and let it fall to the deck. A moment later, Sam gasped for air; he could finally breathe deeply again. "Water really does melt the witch," she sighed. "You're too weak to do anything to me." Lucy spat at her, her eyes black.

Nikki wordlessly cocked the Colt.

Lucy sighed, skipped over to the edge of the dock and did a swan dive into the water.

Nikki threw the gun aside and ran towards Dean, like Sam did.

"That's not the Colt." Sam said as they tried to get Dean off his back.

"Yeah, but she didn't know that." Nikki muttered as she frowned at the numerous cuts seeping blood into the back of Dean's alcohol-soaked shirt.

"We need to get him to a hospital." Sam said, wincing as Dean let out a painful groan when he and Nikki pulled him up.

"No…No, their gonna wanna know what happened, and in this town some thin lie is going to be picked apart an all over the zip code in an hour." Nikki said quickly as they hauled Dean's big body down the steps. "I have a better idea anyway."

Across Peshtigo, in a quaint craftsman cottage with a lavender door, Dani Rider was quickly making her way from her kitchen to her living room. The commercial about some auto dealership that wasn't even in the county was almost done, and Dani didn't want to miss any of the new episode of 24. She jumped onto her sofa and balanced a bowl of rocky road ice cream on one of her sweat pant clad knees.

Sure, she could be at the party at the ore docks, but, last week Jack Bauer had tracked a suicide bomber to a train station. They fought, but Jack pushed him outside the back of the train, stopping any other deaths. Jack then rushed to join Assad, who had plans to renounce his terrorism. She couldn't not see what happened next.

Taking a monstrous bite of ice cream off the spoon, Dani used her pinky to push her glasses back up before settling back in her sofa. As the opening credits played, her cell phone rang. Dani used her chin to open her phone, and pressed it to her face. "Hello?"

"Hey Dani!" Nikki said cheerfully. Dani could hear the sound of an accelerating car engine in the background. "You're at home, right?"

"Yeah," Dani responded, a little worried. Nikki was never this cheerful.

"And-And you have, like, medical stuff there, right?"

Dani nodded, then remembered she was on the phone. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, uh, think you could help out with a little situation me and a few friends got ourselves into?" Nikki asked nervously. "It's not really hospital serious…"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Dani said, turning the volume of her TV down. "When can you be here?"

Dani didn't get a response. "Nikki?" She asked, and looked behind her when there was a knock at her front door.

"Just a sec," she said, putting her phone between her ear and shoulder, and walked over to her door. She had to put her spoon in her mouth to open the door, since her other hand still held her ice cream.

Dani turned her two dead bolts and opened the door, revealing three people.

Nikki was on the far left, her hair was damp and frizzing at the ends. There was a tall, shaggy-haired man on the far right. There was dried blood on his mouth and the collar of his shirt. Between them, arms over their shoulders, was a half-conscious man with his head lolling to one side. The porch light was bright enough to show how blood drenched the back and sides of his shirt were.

"Hey Dani," Nikki said with a grin, like they'd ran into each other in the park. She huffed slightly as she adjusted her grip on the half-conscious man's wrist that she was holding, keeping his arm over her shoulders. "So…think you can help us out?"

The spoon fell from Dani's mouth.