CHAPTER 1

She counted the Ibuprofen out loud as they landed in her trembling hand.

"...Four...five...six..."

The kitchen's usually warm light now seemed garishly bright, and it did nothing to ease the relentless pounding in her head. She struggled not to wince as she tilted her head back to swallow all the pills at once. Her dark hair falling lightly around her smooth face, she stood for a moment, clutching the counter top; willing the headache to dissipate. No such luck. She sighed with frustration she as left the kitchen, crossing the living room, passing her father's snoring form on the couch and muttering as she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom.

She heard it then.

"Turn left here."

Stopping with her hand on her doorknob, she glanced down the hall, finding her brother playing with his power rangers, consumed in his vibrant imagination as always.

"What was that, Josh?" she asked wearily. He momentarily left his pretend world to meet his big sister's gaze.

"What was what?" Josh asked back. She frowned. Great. Now I'm hearing things. Stupid headache.

"Oh, never mind," she responded,"I'm just tired."

"'Kay.'Night, Anna. Love you." And he was back in his play battle with the action figures. Anna smiled and opened her bedroom door, turning to close it once inside, but not before she replied,

"Love you, baby brother."

The occasional headlights of common oncoming traffic usually went unnoticed by his roaming eyes, but on this particular night every bulb seemed to increase the intensity of the throbbing in Sam's head. Of course, the beat of AC DC's "Back in Black" wasn't helping much either, but Dean had never been too keen on letting his little brother choose the soundtrack. Besides, what Dean didn't know wouldn't worry him, and at the moment the elder hunter's fingers happily tapped out the rhythm of the music on the steering wheel while Sam blinked hard and struggled not to wince as he read the various maps of Ohio in his lap. He gestured slightly with his hand as he directed Dean toward their destination; the lair of something worth killing.

"Turn left here."

Dean obeyed, effortlessly steering the Impala through the dark and dirty back roads. He glanced over at his brother and was less than pleased to notice and recognize the expression on Sam's pained face before the younger hunter could mask it. Dean knew that particular look, and he also remembered the implications it could hold for both of them. He didn't like seeing that frustration on his brother's face, and he hated to have to ask him about it; but mostly, it just scared the heck out of him to see pain in Sammy's eyes at all. Of course, Dean never let on that he was ever scared. At least he hoped not.

"Dude, you okay? You look a little..." He posed the question casually, while hoping to god, or whoever else, that nothing was really wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam lied, "Just a headache."

Dean pursed his lips, but kept his eyes focused on the road while he spoke.

"Right. Is that a headache like 'I had one too many shots last night,' or headache like 'I am Madame Cleo?'"

Dean expertly hid his apprehension as he waited for Sam to respond, and did just as well masking his relief when the response finally came.

"No, not like visions or anything. Just a headache. It's fine."

"Yeah, okay."

Sam looked over at his older brother, whose eyes remained fixed on the road, apparently expressionless. The younger Winchester resignedly turned back to perusing the maps, trying to decipher the name of a particular street while ignoring the incessant pounding in his brain.

He had just determined the elusive street's name to be "Silk Oak" when he heard it.

"Love you, baby brother."

It was almost a whisper, but it might as well have been blasted through the speakers along with AC DC for the reaction the simple statement received. Sam twisted quickly in his seat to stare incredulously at his elder brother. Dean was immediately aware of the other's sudden movement, and upon glancing at Sam's face and seeing the questioning look thereupon, Dean sensed he was about to get mightily busted for something; yet he had the distinct impression that he had missed an important detail.

The brothers broke the verbal silence simultaneously, both with different emphasis, but each inquiring the same of the other: "What?"

Anna changed into her red pajama pants and black cami, and climbed under the covers of her soft, warm bed. As she lay still, it seemed the hammering in her head grew worse. She closed her eyes and focused on the center most point of pain, trying with all of her might to push it away. Stupid headaches, she thought again, more than three weeks, and they just keep getting worse... She tried to focus instead on the sound of the California breeze coming through her open window. With her little finger, she traced the outline of the broken key on her favorite necklace - the good-luck charm that she never took off. Still her brain continued to throb in the otherwise peaceful quiet around her.

Of course, had Anna not been so distracted by her hurting head, she would have realized how cold it had suddenly gotten in her room.

Had the lights not been off, she would have noticed the electricity shorting out.

Had her eyes not been closed, she would have seen that the radio-clock on her dresser was flickering on and off, the red numbers becoming garbled and unreadable.

Unaware, she fell into an uneasy sleep, unconsciously fingering her necklace as she drifted off, despite the ache in her skull.

When she awoke, it was to chaos.

"Dude, I'm telling you - I didn't say it!"

Dean was defending himself almost frantically; no way was he going to be accused of that. Chick flick moments were so not his thing.

Sam, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying himself.

"Dean, if you feel the need to voice how much you care, it's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed." Sam smirked what he knew his older brother would see as an infuriating smirk - pushing Dean's buttons was so easy and so entertaining. He could see his older sibling's face reddening with frustration, and as funny as it was, Sam really was serious about what he had heard. It just struck him as intensely amusing that his brother was denying it.

Dean could not see for the life of him what was so funny. He didn't know why Sam seemed to think he had heard him saying, "Love you, baby brother," but the knew that he had said nothing of the sort, and he wasn't about to take the blame for Sam hearing things.

"Sam, I'm not gonna tell you again - I didn't say a thing, now cut it out or I swear I'm gonna -"

"Whatever man," Sam interrupted with a laugh, "Just forget it." Besides, laughing certainly wasn't helping his pounding head, and they really needed to get where they were going as fast as possible.

"Make a right up here," Sam directed as a crumbling street sign bearing the name "Silk Oak" came into view.

"This is it."

"Good," Dean grouchily replied as he turned down the dirt road and pulled up beside the solitary, dilapidated house at the end of it. "'cause I'm in the mood to kick some supernatural -" but he never finished that particular sentence. He was interrupted quite unexpectedly by what was undeniably a female scream of terror.

The brothers didn't even stop to exchange a look of surprise as the hurriedly exited the Impala and ran toward the run-down dwelling that they knew housed a murderous creature and what sounded like his next victim. The screaming stopped abruptly and the two hunters drew their guns containing iron rounds; Sam covered Dean as the elder brother kicked the front door open. Inside, the place was cold and empty, save for dust and cobwebs, but the light of a fire peeked out from under a doorway to the left. Dean motioned for Sam to take point, and the youngest Winchester stepped forward, quickly making his way to the door, weapon held steady. Dean took a stance to Sam's right, gave a nod, and the younger hunter shoved the door open wide, taking less than a second to process everything that he saw: the remains of several people-turned-dinner lay against the east wall, a conglomerate of broken bones and rotted flesh; a fireplace on the wall opposite him was full of hot flames, revealing the source of light he had seen from behind the door; an unconscious girl no older than twenty-one with dark hair and tanned skin lay on the floor against the western wall, her wrists shackled to it; and dead center of the room stood a ravenous and slightly surprised monster who had obviously just gutted the earlier screaming blond woman in his hands with his teeth.

Sam didn't pause to be disgusted by the amount of blood pooled beneath killer and killed, didn't stop to be mortified by the gory scene - he wasted no time and opened fire, pumping round after round into the vile thing before him, ignoring how much the report from each shot and the shrieks of the creature made his head hurt all the more.

Anna was forced into consciousness at the sound of a gun shot. And another. Another. She knew she was awake, and she was aware of the urge to get up and run away from whomever was shooting, but for some reason her limbs wouldn't move and her eyes wouldn't open. Lethargy clouded her thoughts and slowed down her mind. Something was making an awful screeching noise; like a dying animal. And a voice was saying, "Iron rounds won't keep him down long; we gotta get that girl out of here." Anna frowned mentally. She really wanted to know just what was going on...was she dreaming? She felt something pulling at her arms, and realized that her wrists stung, and her entire body was aching. Ow, she thought, hurting...not dreaming then. Of course, her head was still hammering, and since moving wasn't really working right now, she searched her recent memory for a clue as to what might be happening. Headache...pills...stairs...Josh...bed...wait, JOSH! Concern and protective instinct flooded her half-conscious mind. If there was gunfire, she had to find her brother and make sure he was safe. Anna willed herself to wake fully, forcing her eyes open at last. What she saw would have made her gasp if shock hadn't left her frozen solid.

As Dean kept a sharp eye on the temporarily defenseless creature, Sam was releasing the dark-haired girl from the shackles, vaguely noticing the welts the metal had left on her wrists, and the fact that she was wearing red pajama pants and a black camisole. He worked quickly, prepared to pick her up and carry her out - she wasn't bleeding and she seemed all right, which was good. Then he saw her tired eyes flicker open. An expression of confusion and unmet expectation crossed her face (she obviously had no idea where she was), followed closely by fear and then utter terror at the sight of the blond woman's mangled form just feet away. Sam leaned over her, attempting to get her attention before panic could overcome her entirely.

"Hey, hey," his tone was gentle and soothing,"It's ok. We're gonna get you out of here, alright? Can you walk?"

She didn't answer, didn't make any sign that she had noticed Sam's presence at all. Her mesmerized eyes continued to linger on the mutilated mass in the center of the room. The younger brother was about to move to pick her up when her frightened gaze shifted upward, not to Sam, but to the face of the elder Winchester, still covering the incapacitated creature with his firearm. Sam paused as a new expression appeared on the girl's face now - one of recognition and disbelief. What she said next stopped both brother's cold.

"Dean?"

Where am I? Anna thought. Her gaze found the mess of torn flesh on the floor before her. Oh my god. All thoughts of fleeing or moving left her mind as her eyes widened in shock and her lips parted in a silent gape. Her brain vaguely registered the fact that there was someone talking to her, holding her arm, but her eyes were locked onto the horrible pooling of blood and the thing that was curled up beside it. Whoever was holding her moved closer, and she lifted her gaze a bit higher, not to the face of the person coming nearer to her, but to the other who was standing near the razed body. Her brow creased and her eyes grew wider still as she realized just how familiar his face was.

"Dean?"

Even as she said it she knew it was true. It wasn't a even question, not really - more of a surprised statement of fact, because of course there was no mistaking that rugged face, those jade-green eyes, that sandy hair that she knew so well. No, she corrected her self in her head, There is no Dean. He's just a dream. They're all just a dream. The brothers, the demons; everything. But aren't I awake? Everything hurts, I must be awake... But what on earth was she doing at what was obviously a crime scene with a gorgeous figment of her nighttime imagination - in her pajamas?!

All these contemplations flew through her consciousness in a matter of milliseconds, and she had momentarily forgotten that someone had been reaching to pull her from the ground.

"How do you know him?" came the harsh demand breaking her daze.

Anna whirled her head to see the owner of the voice she already recognized, and now she felt her mouth drop, her eyes practically bugging out of her head with disbelief and absolute incredulity.

She finally managed to gasp out a few words.

"Y-you're...you're Sam!!"

She turned back towards the elder, now thoroughly freaked out brother.

"And you...you're...!"

She twisted her head back and forth, switching her focus from man to man, not understanding how she was with two dream characters in a room full of blood.

"But...how...wha...?"

She couldn't quite form a coherent question - the shock of the corpse she had opened her eyes to was finally catching up to her, and the pain and weariness of whatever had happened was taking it's toll. Add the sudden appearance of these two, and her already throbbing migraine reached a new level of intensity.

Caught up as she was in her constant attempt to stifle the urge to scream or pass out, Anna hardly noticed the look Sam and Dean exchanged, silently agreeing to first get the girl out and calmed down, then get some answers. As Sam picked her up easily, she never paused to marvel at his strength and speed, or stopped to notice how expertly Dean's gun was trained on the creature as they retreated from the house that was the lair of a monster. She didn't even absorb the fact that she was lying in the back seat of a very familiar '67 Chevy. As they hurriedly drove away and arrived ten minutes later at a questionable looking motel, it was all a blur until the boys' raised voices broke her out of her reverie. Sitting there, car door open, legs out of the vehicle, she watched with slight apprehension and growing understanding as the two hunters argued less than a yard away from her, and a realization dawned on her as she heard what they were saying.