Well, here's the next chapter! Hope you guys like it! And as always, please review. I love hearing what everyone thinks!

Silence. Winnie never knew silence to be a torture…but that's what it was. She was even starting to wish for the scratching again…but that had stopped quite a while ago.

Time had passed in the tiny room that was her cell, of that she was certain. How much time? She had no idea. No one had spoken to her since Jessica had been taken away and once the scratching stopped…it felt like she was the only one in the entire place. The only contact she'd received was in the form of a tiny door opening in the bottom of her cell door and a plate of food being pushed through. She couldn't see who it was that gave it to her and at first she'd been afraid to eat it. What if it was poisoned or something? In the end though, her hunger got the best of her and she'd taken a bite. It tasted a bit weird but so far nothing felt off so she'd eaten the whole thing.

That had been a while ago too. Winnie had tried making her own noise…singing, humming, and even talking to herself…but she soon grew tired of it and it wasn't helping to stave off the loneliness and fear anyway.

She now found herself sitting up against the cold wall of her cell, wishing that Jessica would come back at least.

Winnie couldn't stop thinking about what the strange girl had said about not letting her captives break her. It sounded terrifying. What were these monsters planning on doing with her?

Bang! Creeeak… Clack…clack…clack…

Footsteps could be heard outside her cell. Winnie's hands started shaking and tears started streaming down her pale cheeks. She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to make herself as small as possible.

The door suddenly shuddered eerily and a second later it swung open. Wide eyed and terrified, Winnie watched in horror as a man entered the room. It wasn't the person that had taken her, no…this one was much worse because…he looked almost…normal. Almost like he could be the mailman or a janitor. He smiled down at her with shining white teeth and despite his normalcy, there was a sinister air about him. But the worst part…the part that made her want to scream was…his glowing yellow eyes staring at her like he was about to crush her in the palm of his hand.

She shoved herself back farther against the wall and shook in fear. "N-no…please…please don't…I wanna go home…I wanna go home…I want my mom…"

His smile widened even more and he took a few steps into the room. "I'm sorry Winnie dear, but your mommy can't save you from this I'm afraid."

He knelt down in front of her and gently ran his large hand over her short black hair. "Nothing can…"

His touch was like ice and Winnie shuddered in fear.

He grabbed her chin and yanked her face upward so that she had no choice but to look into his cold yellow eyes. "I need a temporary replacement you see, and considering you were almost my first choice in the beginning…it's time for your training to begin."

"T-temporary?" She questioned softly, locking onto the one word that gave her a tiny bit of hope that he may yet let her go.

Seeming to read her mind he smiled even wider. "Yes. Temporary." He released her and stood up again before holding out his hand to her. "If you help me get my little Star back…you can go back home to mommy dearest."

Winnie looked from his eyes to his hand and…

She made her decision.

As he paced the dingy motel room, Dean fluctuated between worry, anger, and frustration. That had pretty much been his mind set ever since finding Sam in the first place, but now, as he looked over at her unconscious form on the bed, he couldn't help but feel all of them about a hundred times worse.

She'd been out for over two hours now and he was seriously considering calling a doctor. It looked like she was just sleeping but he couldn't be sure…especially after the freak out she'd had before she'd collapsed.

He still remembered the terrified look on her face when she'd stared into her ice cream bowl…

"What the hell did you see Sammy?" He muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

The first thing he'd done after she'd passed out was throw her in the back of the car. He'd done it as gently as possible of course, but they'd been in a bit of a rush. He'd told the manager that he had to go and grab some cash from his sister to repair the mirror, but then he hadn't exactly followed through with the payment. He still had trouble believing the guy actually thought he was gonna come back.

They couldn't exactly stay in the area after that so he just drove, all the while keeping one eye on Sam in the backseat. She didn't even move the entire time. In a way…seeing her so still…was even worse than the craziness she'd brought into his life. Sam wasn't supposed to be like that. He remembered the little girl who'd always run after him, squealing in delight. She was nineteen now…a completely different person. He didn't know anything about her, what she'd been through, what she was still going through. He just…didn't know what to do.

He decided then and there, that when she woke up, they were going to have a serious talk. He needed to know what was going on in that head of hers. No more secrets. He wasn't going to be able to do anything to help her if he had no idea what was going on.

Eventually, tired of walking in circles, Dean dropped down onto the bed opposite Sam and watched her sleep. He still couldn't get over the fact that she was really there, right in front of him. It still seemed like some sort of dream. Seeing her like that, looking so peaceful, he could almost see the little girl he used to know.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone. With nothing else to do but wait, he decided to try calling his father again. The fact that he couldn't reach his dad was starting to worry him. John Winchester wasn't exactly reliable but, eventually, he would always call Dean back. He hadn't been able to reach the man for two days and that just didn't sit right.

Once again he got nothing but a voicemail message.

"He won't answer you."

"Ah!" He yelled in surprise as Sam suddenly spoke. He jumped up, leaving his phone on the bed, and ran over to her. "Sam?! Are you okay?"

She blinked slowly and looked at him with calm, slightly detached, eyes. It was even more disturbing than the stillness. It kind of reminded him of when she attacked him back in the rec center.

"Sammy?" He asked cautiously, unsure of her reaction. He was getting kind of tired of having to walk on eggshells all the time…not quite sure what would set off one of her episodes.

"He won't answer you Dean." She answered in a tone void of emotion.

"What? What do you mean?"

Without answering, Sam pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around the room. She blinked slowly again and then focused on him.

"Sam?" He was really starting to become concerned now. "Sam, I need you to talk to me here."

She stared at him a moment longer before smiling sadly. "I'm sorry Dean."

"What are you sorry for?" He asked in confusion, unease settling within his gut.

"This."

He was about to question her again when suddenly her fist shot out and collided with the side of his face. He toppled over backward from the unbelievable force behind the blow and landed hard on his back on the floor.

He barely had time to get his bearings before she was standing over him with that same blank look on her face.

"S-Sam? What are you-"

"I'm sorry Dean."

The last thing he saw was her foot coming down on his face.

"Uugh…" Dean groaned as consciousness slowly returned. He felt like he'd been hit with a baseball bat or something. His head was killing him. He cracked an eye open and was a little concerned when he realized he couldn't see anything. His other eye shot open and it took him a minute to realize that it wasn't him…it was just dark out. A sense of dread settled in his stomach when he realized that though. Why was it dark out?

"Shit!" He yelled when he remembered. Dean shot up into a sitting position, which was a huge mistake considering he was suffering from a concussion. He immediately turned to the side as his burger from earlier came back up...all over the carpet. "Uugh…" He groaned again as his brain pounded in his skull. He could also feel something wet dribbling down the left side of his face. Probably from when Sam had stomped on it.

He sat there for a minute, trying to get control of his body, before slowly pushing himself to his feet. He stood there, wobbling slightly, before trying to find the light switch. Just as he flicked it on he realized his mistake. The light cut through his head like a knife and before he could stop it…he threw up again.

"Dammit…" He cursed as he quickly turned the light off. His head was pounding even worse now and he could feel the nausea trying to make yet another appearance. Standing there in the dark he just let himself settle down.

Finally, taking a deep breath, Dean tried to sort out what had happened. Sam had knocked him out and…

"Sam…" He muttered when he realized he couldn't hear anyone else and was now alone in the motel room. She was gone…

He'd lost her again…

"Dammit!" He screamed into the empty darkness as he felt the familiar pain of losing his sister settle within him. It was like twelve years ago all over again. He didn't understand what had happened. She had told him she remembered him…he thought she was getting better.

He stood there fuming for a few minutes, letting the despair wash over and through him, before taking another deep breath. He was not going to let this happen again. He'd found her once…he could do it again.

Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he flipped the light on once more and forced the nausea away. With renewed determination Dean took a look around the room trying to find any clues as to where she could have gone. He noticed that both beds were made, which was weird. Why the hell would she make the beds before she left? And it looked like Sam had taken his phone because it was no longer lying where he'd left it.

"The phone!" He yelled suddenly in triumph. If she had his phone he could track her. With a smile plastered on his face, Dean reached for his car keys, intending to go and buy a phone he could use, when he realized that they were no longer in his pocket. Thinking he may have put them somewhere else and just forgot, Dean searched the rest of the room…they were nowhere to be found.

"No way…"

Bolting from the room he found himself face to face with…an empty parking spot. Sam had taken his car.

"Dammit Sam!" He yelled out into the darkness.

Now he was going to have to steal a ride…

"She knocked you out and stole your car…"

"Yes Bobby. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Sorry Dean, but how the hell did you expect me to react? Give you a lolly pop and tell you everything is gonna be okay?"

"I could do without the sarcasm at least…"

Dean was becoming more and more annoyed as he drove. It wasn't just because Sam had knocked him out and stolen his car, no, it was also because of where she appeared to be headed.

"Anyway Dean, you say she's headed to Lawrence?"

"Yeah…or in that general direction anyway." He answered softly. Dean had never wanted to go back…to the place where his mother was killed. It held nothing but terrible memories. Over the years he'd tried to forget the pain and now he was being forced to confront it. It was where his father had become a different person, the place where their lives were irrevocably changed forever.

What he really wanted to know though, was why Sam was going there in the first place.

"Do you think she remembers what happened there? Maybe she just wants to see the place where she was born."

"I doubt it Bobby. You didn't seen her face right before she hit me. It wasn't the face of someone looking to rediscover their roots."

Dean remembered the dead look in her eyes. Sam had looked utterly hopeless. It was almost like she'd lost the will to…fight. And what had she meant when she said their father wouldn't answer? It was like she knew where John was and the way she'd said it made him feel like she also knew that something bad had happened to him…

"Have you heard anything from dad?"

"No. I've called a few times but he isn't answering. That doesn't necessarily mean anything Dean. He's been known to ignore calls when he's on a hunt."

"Yeah…" Dean half-heartedly agreed. He knew what Bobby said was true but the feeling he'd had earlier, that something was seriously wrong, wouldn't go away. And it had only intensified after his brief conversation with Sam.

"Well, anyway Dean. Do you want me to head out to Lawrence? I can leave right now."

"No Bobby. I can handle this. Just let me know if you hear anything from dad alright."

"Sure thing Dean. Be careful ya idjit."

"Will do Bobby."

Dean hung up and stared out the windshield of the shitty truck he'd jacked. It was a long road to Lawrence, Kansas and he had a lot going through his mind. Why did Sam do what she did? Why was she going back to that place? Would he be able to catch her before she took off again? Where the hell was their dad?

"Dammit…" He mumbled for the umpteenth time since he woke up. Why couldn't anything be easy? Any progress he seemed to make with Sam would disappear in a second and it was pissing him off. Maybe he would have to tie her down to get any damn answers out of her.

"Yeah, that would be perfect Dean…" He mumbled to himself. "Tie up the girl with the mental issues."

He shook his head at his own stupidity and sighed in frustration.

In reality, at the moment, he wasn't even that mad at her. The real problem was that he was having trouble dealing with the fact that he was heading for the place he promised himself he would never go back to. Lawrence was where he'd spent the first four years of his life. He remembered enough of it for it to have changed him…and most times it wasn't for the better. But Sam was only six months old when it happened, so he couldn't help wondering how she remembered it. She barely remembered him…so how did she remember that place?

He sighed again. Either way, the most important thing, was getting there in time to stop her from vanishing out of his life again.

That was one thing he would not allow to happen. He was never going to let her go again. He'd find her, tell her that she threw a good punch, and then they'd move on. Well, that was what he hoped anyway. Odds were, that things were not going to be that easy considering their track record up till now.

Eventually Dean decided that thinking was really getting him nowhere. He turned on the radio and tried to find a station that didn't suck. The best he could do was kind of okay and his anger toward his sister increased again. He wanted his baby back…and that included his music.

Dean was beyond exhausted by the time he drove across the border into Kansas. The landscape was familiar and a sense of home assailed him. It was somewhat comforting. He was keeping his eyes peeled for a motel he could crash at for a few hours. He had wanted to keep driving but he'd managed to drift into the other lane three times already and it wouldn't do Sam any good if he ended up getting himself killed.

When he finally found one he pulled into the parking lot with only a brief hesitation. It went against every fiber of his being to stop, but it was his only option. As long as Sam didn't turn off the phone he would still be able to track her. So with a wary sigh, he turned the car off and got out.

The crisp night air assailed him and he took a deep breath to try and calm his racing mind.

Ring! Ring!

Dean jumped in surprise when his phone rang. Thinking it could be his sister he quickly took it out and looked at the caller ID. The number was one he didn't recognize but something within him told him he should answer…so that's what he did.

"Hello?"

"Hello Dean." Said a deep gravelly voice he'd never heard before.

"Who is this and how the hell do you know my name?" Dean barked in annoyance.

"Oh Dean, I know so much more than just your name. You look exhausted by the way. Maybe you should ask the nice owner of The Lodge to rent you a room for the night."

Dean tensed immediately and looked up at the sign above him that read The Lodge, vacancy. He quickly scanned the parking lot but couldn't see anyone. "Who the hell are you?" He asked again, trying to keep his unease from showing.

"My name is Jacob, Dean. And I'm the monster who stole your sister away twelve years ago. You and I need to have a little conversation."