><><
Erin

It was the middle of the night when we arrived in Lafayette Indiana. I had driven the whole way and my eyes were burning as we pulled into town. Sam had offered to drive a few times, but I didn't think I would be able to sleep anyway. My mind was racing and I wanted to be awake in case Sam needed to talk. He didn't. Instead, he spent the whole of drive Re-reading over the information and making a few calls so that by the time we rolled into town he already had Scott's home address.

It was nearly two in the morning however, so any more research would have to wait until a more civilized time. I pulled into the first road side motel we came upon. There was a sign out front boasting it rented out rooms by the hour for cash. If I was traveling by myself, I would have found a chain hotel with a brightly lit parking lot, but the boys always picked the cheapest one available. I supposed when you were as capable as they were, privacy was more of a concern than safety. No one at the Blue Rose would be asking any questions. I sat in the lot for a second and tried to decide if we would be too easy for Dean to find. Probably it didn't matter. Once he found the town we were in it wouldn't take much leg work to track us down.

Sam moved to get out but I stopped him. "You're more recognizable than I am," I told him. And it was true. I was decent looking enough, but not enough to be memorable. My dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail and no doubt the bags under my blue grey eyes would be distracting. Dean would be looking for Sam, assuming, rightly so, that Sam would be too much of a gentleman to let me pay for our hotel. Or maybe not, maybe he would know I would know that...I climbed out of my SUV shaking my head. I was too tired for this and likely to land myself in an institution if I kept trying to guess what Dean would know I know.

The sleepy young man manning the desk over night barely glanced my way. He just took my cash and slid a pen and sign in sheet towards me. I hesitated with the pen over the form. Dean was chasing us. He would likely guess any name Sam might use. I tried to decide if I thought it was better for him to catch us sooner or later. Sam deserved the time to find his answers, but if we ran into trouble, I didn't want Dean too far behind us.

I smirked as I wrote down the name and handed the kid behind the desk some cash.

He glanced down at the form. "Ah, thank you Miss Jett."

Sam met me at the car, carrying both our bags. I silently led the way to our room. I unlocked the door and went in first. Back when the demon was chasing me, neither brother would let me step through a door first. It was refreshing to feel like I was capable of helping out or at the very least, pulling my weight. I had gotten Sam and I just one room. We had shared before and it would be less to track. I tossed my stuff on the double bed farthest from the door and collapsed into the pillows. They were lumpy and musty smelling, but I was too tired to care.

Sam locked up and followed suit. Maybe he got changed and brushed his teeth, but if he did, I didn't hear it. I was already asleep.

><><
Erin

Sam and I were up just a couple hours later. We drank bad hotel coffee and made a plan for our day. We both knew our time was limited. Frankly, I was shocked Dean hadn't been waiting when we stepped out into the parking lot in the early morning light. Maybe he had to stop and catch some sleep too. I hoped he had. Based on what Sam told me, Dean would be approaching forty-eight hours with only the small amount of rest he may or may not have taken at my house.

We were going to visit Scott's house first. It was the only lead we had without going to the local police station and neither of us was equipped to pretend to be feds. Sam's suit and fake ID's were still in the Impala, and I didn't look like anyone's idea of a fed in my jeans, black t-shirt and converses. 

I waited for Sam in the car while he spoke with Scott's father. As much as I hated the idea of not being with him for the interview I did appreciate his consideration when he pushed me to stay. Even if I was shielding as hard as I could, there was no way to push out the emotions of a grieving father. Sam came back a few minutes later.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

He grunted as he climbed into my SUV. "Scott was disturbed according to his dad. Started getting headaches and changed about a few months ago..."

"When Yellow Eyes used me," I muttered.

Sam glanced at me and his eyes flashed with guilt. We both didn't need to feel bad about it, but we would. I knew objectively what had happened was neither of our faults, but it was my power the Demon had used. We still weren't exactly sure what he had done, but this young man's disturbing behavior was evidence there were real world repercussions.

"He was seeing a therapist who had prescribed him every antidepressant and sleep aid known to man," Sam shook his head. He pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket and tossed it to me.

I caught the bottle and read the label. It was a sedative. I spotted the name of the psychologist who had prescribed the meds. I could feel that there was something more Sam wanted to say, but I didn't push. Instead, I kept my head down as I worked a little too hard at studying the label, waiting him out.

Sam sighed. "He had a shrine in his closet Erin, images of yellow eyes. Like he was obsessed..." Sam shook his head in clear dismay.

I understood where he was coming from. I couldn't imagine anyone revering the yellow eyed demon either. He had been the front runner in all my nightmares the last few months.

"Let's get some breakfast," I suggested. "We can look up this psychologist and make a plan for how we are going to get him to talk to us," I suggested.

Sam nodded and I drove to the closest diner. We ate mostly in silence. Unlike being around Dean, I found it difficult to make small talk with Sam sometimes. It wasn't anything he did wrong, it was just a matter of comfort. Dean and I had spent more time together. 

Sam's emotions were roiling around him as he pushed his food around his plate.

"Not hungry?" I asked after a few minutes.

He just grunted. "I'm sorry," he said looking up at me. "This can't be easy for you."

"You don't have to worry about me, Sam," I told him.

He looked doubtful, his wide, earnest eyes were filled with guilt. I barely held back the urge I had to roll my own eyes at him.

"This just has to be hard for you, bringing up all the stuff with Yellow Eyes. I should have thought of that."

How in the heck this kid thought he was going to go dark side was beyond me. He was one of the more considerate humans I had met, almost to his own detriment. Here he was beating himself up for asking me for help. "Sam, of course you should have come to me," I said with a little more force in my voice than I usually used with Sam. It was more of the no nonsense tone I used with his brother when I was sick of his shit. "You trust me and I know all the players. I was a logical choice."

"I know but-" Sam started and I waved my fork at him with a flourish, cutting off his words.

"Enough guilt Sam," I told him firmly. "I'm here, we're doing this. Now, how are we going to get the information from the psychologist?"

Sam chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "We'll have to scope it out, see if there's a way to break in and get the files unseen..."

There wasn't.

After eating Sam and I looked up the psychologist in the phone book. I drove over to his offices and we looked up at the second story windows.

"Well..." Sam said thoughtfully. "One of us could have an emergency appointment and the other could climb up the fire escape and sneak into his private office when he's busy."

I glanced sideways at Sam, fairly certain how this was going to play out for me.

><><

Dean

I rolled into town around midday. I hated to admit it, but I had to stop at a rest area and catch some sleep around 2 am outside of Chicago. I had only planned on a few hours but when I awoke it was midmorning. I was still kicking myself for taking so long. Who knew what kind of trouble those two could get themselves caught up in in that amount of time. 

I drove through town checking the hotels for Erin's SUV but I didn't see it in any of the lots. I wished I had asked for more information from Ellen and was considering calling her back when I passed a small roadside motel. I pinched my lips together as I stared at the sign. It's the motel Sammy and I would have picked, but Beckett would have chosen something safer looking. She thought I was chasing them however, so she would know I knew that.

I pulled into the lot and scrubbed a hand over my eyes. I was going to make myself crazy trying to think like Beckett. I climbed out of the car and headed to the office. I was all ready with my story of why I needed to see the names of the guests when I realized no one was at the front desk. I could hear the tv in the back room but no one had heard me come up. I reached down and slid the book across the desk towards me. There were only a handful of names. I searched the male names, none of which were Sammy's handwriting. Then I caught the name of a female guest who had checked in the night before. I smiled as I saw Beckett's neat handwriting and it was an effort not to laugh out loud when I saw the name. 

Joan Jett.

Gotcha.

I was in the right place. I headed back out to the lot and moved the Impala so it wouldn't be as visible when they pulled into the lot. I leaned the seat back a little bit and settled in to wait.

><><

Erin

The fake meeting with the psychologist had been about as unpleasant as I had expected. It was a struggle to make up fake things to talk to him about and even more difficult to make it seem like I was in a state where I need an emergency session, without him feeling the need to put me on a twenty-four hour hold. It was a fine line I walked and maybe put a toe across when, through the windows I watched Sam scale the building and get the files out of his locked office. 

Once I was through, I had the psychologists card, a prescription for a sedative and three more appointments in his books. I tossed the card in the trash around the corner and climbed into my SUV. I drove around the block and picked up Sam from the end of the alley. We headed back to the motel. 

I stuck my key in the lock and jerked as I was hit with a flurry of emotions and the pounding of someone's feet on the pavement. 

"S-" I started to shout as I felt their intention and their worry. They were nervous and worried and...hyper.

"Who are you!" Sam shouted, whirling on them. He grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pushed her back against the door.

"Please!" she squeaked. "You're in danger."

Sam frowned and I grabbed his arm, stilling him. "She isn't malicious!" I told him. 

The other woman frowned when she saw me. "You!" she exclaimed. "You're here too?! You're both in danger," she amended.

"Why don't we go inside," I suggested, glancing around the parking lot. There was no one else outside that I could see, but it wasn't like I could tell the difference between people being outside versus inside. My gift didn't work that way and there was no way I was lowering my walls any lower with the type of people who frequented this nearby. 

"Is that okay?" I asked the woman not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Sam could be imposing when he wanted to be.

She nodded rapidly and eagerly followed me inside. I wasn't sure she very smart, she certainly didn't seem to have much for survival instincts. As soon as we were inside the woman started pacing and speaking so fast it was difficult to keep up. 

"Look, I know how this sounds, but I am not insane and I am not on drugs. Okay, I am normal and this is way off the map for me," she said, exuding anxiety as she paced short tight lines back and forth

"All right, all right," Sam said soothingly. "Just-just calm down," he said, holding his hands out placating.

"What's your name?" I asked gently.

"Eva...Eva Wilson," she said, forcing herself to stop and catch her breath.

"Eva, I'm Sam Winchester," Sam said soothingly. "And this is my friend Erin Beckett," he said gesturing to me. 

Eva nodded hello to me and the break seemed to help her calm down. She didn't feel quite so manic, but I made it a point to keep my distance. I didn't want her accidentally touching me and I made a point of tightening down my walls even further until I could feel barely anything around me. It felt like suddenly being blinded, but Eva was too much for me to deal with even without my gift and I didn't want a migraine. 

"Now, you were telling me about these dreams you have," Sam prompted.

"Uh yeah, okay, so like a few months ago I started getting these like headaches I guess, and nightmares 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."

"When was this?" I asked gently, trying to use my tone to keep her as calm as possible. My question threw her off, as though she had been expecting us to argue with her or doubt her story.

"Uh, about a month ago," she said. "But anyways, a couple days later I found this..." she said digging in her purse and pulling out a newspaper clipping.

Sam took the clipping and briefly skimmed it before handing it to me. His tension ratcheted right back up again. I looked at the worn newspaper in my hand. It was the story about Scott Carey's death. I could feel the shock on my face as I lifted my gaze to meet Sam's. She had prophetic dreams, just like Sam did. 

"I saw this guy die days before it happened!" Eva exclaimed. "I don't know why. I don't know. For some reason my dreams are coming true, and last night I had another one..." she said and she looked up at Sam, her eyes wide and earnest. 

"Okay," Sam encouraged. 

"About you, both of you. You die!" she said suddenly. 

I exchanged a look with Sam and saw the profound guilt on his face. He had already been feeling bad about bringing me here, now he would never forgive himself. I opened my mouth to say something but he had already turned his attention back to Eva. "How did you find us?" He asked. 

"Oh, you had Motel stationary in the dream. I googled the motel and it was real and I just, thought I should warn you or something," she said with a helpless shrug. 

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this," he muttered. 

Eva let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh course you don't!" she said throwing her arms up in the air. "You think I'm a total nut job!" 

"No, no," Sam quickly assured her. "I mean, you must be one of us." 

Eva turned to him with a guarded look on her face. "One of who?" she asked suspiciously. 

"One of the psychics, like me," It was impossible to miss the hopeful elation in Sam's voice. "Look Eva, I have visions too, all right, so we're connected."

Eva cracked a nervous laugh. "Okay, so you're nuts, that's great...so...I suppose you're a psychic too," she said pointing at me. 

Unable to help myself, I flashed her an apologetic smile. "I am, although not connected like the two of you," I quickly assured her, gesturing between her and Sam. 

Eva's eyes nearly bugged out of her head and I regretted not lying to her. Almost. 

"Okay, okay," Sam soothed quickly, looking back and forth between us. "Did you mother die in a house fire when you were little?" 

Eva frowned. "No, my mom lives in Palm Beach."

"So you don't fit the pattern either," Sam said thoughtfully and he tapped his fingers on top of the tv. 

"So, are you going to leave town?" Eva asked hopefully. 

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head. 

"Please! Before you blow up," she said and then she turned to me. "And before you get shot." 

"Blown up and shot," I mused, trying to think of a scenario where Sam would get blown up. That seemed a little extreme. Shootings were more common and seemed like it would be harder to avoid. Although, if I was honest, no one had ever shot at me before. 

"Yes!" Eva said, "so please go!"

"No, I can't," Sam said firmly. 

"Oh god, why not!" She demanded throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. 

"Because there's something going on here Eva, with you, with me. I mean, there are others like us out there, and we're all apart of something, and I need to figure out what that is. Don't you want to know why this is happening?" Sam asked gently from the bed. "I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? Cause if you walk out that door right now, you might never know the truth."

She breathed out an exhausted sigh and finally nodded. 

Together we all started going through the files from the psychologist. The most disturbing part was listening to the sound of Scott's voice on the recorder. I shivered. He was disturbed all right. His tone was reverent as he spoke of the Yellow Eyes demon. 

Sam reached for the file, accidentally knocking it down. He bent to pick it up just as glass exploded around us. The bullet hit the wall exactly where Sam's head had been. Sam moved towards Eva, taking her to the ground and protecting her with his body. Another shot immediately followed the first and I dove for cover.

><><

Dean

I watched Sam and Beckett park and get out of the stupid SUV she had insisted on buying all those months ago. I moved to get out but the she said something to Sammy and smiled and it was like I couldn't goddamn breathe. I sat back in my seat and made myself relax. Beckett would pick up every single emotion I was feeling and if I couldn't get them under control when I saw her, it would be like I was shouting them at her. 

They were going into the hotel room, nothing dangerous about that. I could wait. Then some girl charged at Sammy and I once more was half out of my seat before Beckett laid a hand on Sam's arm and stopped him. The three of them spoke together and then they all went into the room. The blinds weren't fully drawn and I could see them all talking together. 

I was just climbing out of the car to go and join the party when a gunshot cut through the air. I flinched, and ducked beneath the edge of the car, looking around for the source. Glass shattered and I glanced over my shoulder and saw it had been Sammy and Beckett's window. My eyes cut to the roof across the way and I swore and I saw the muzzle flash of a second shot. I ran to the ladder and launched myself up it. 

Laying on his stomach, lining up his next shot was none other than the son of a bitch, Gordon. I had tangled with the hunter not long ago and our hatred was deep and mutual. I launched myself at him, kicking him in the face before he could take a third shot. He fell sideways, letting go of the rifle that was too big to be of any use in close quarters. 

"You do that to my brother, I'll kill you," I snarled at him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, punching him again. 

"No Dean," he argued weakly. "You don't und-"

He kept talking in the weak voice even as he came up with the rifle in his hands and bashed the butt of it into the side of my temple. Everything went dark. 

><><