Dean woke up with the odd feeling of something being wrong. He couldn't quite pinpoint it at first and figured it had something to do with the fact that he was sleeping alone. Granted, the room he had been given was right next to his brother's, but he still felt a tad lonely with the door closed between them. And now, when he woke up in the middle of the night to a quiet house with a lingering sense of trepidation, he first and foremost blamed the aloneness rather than anything else.

"Oh Dean. You're so full of it."

That voice had a very familiar lilt to it and it made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. He lashed out for the bedside lamp and managed to switch it on, but it fell over and broke the bulb in the process. However, in the split second it took for the light to come on and go off again, he saw her clearly. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, striving to make his voice sound as scornful as he could. Inside, though, he was shaking. "Didn't your mother teach you how to read time?"

He didn't manage to get off the bed before she had him pinned to it by straddling his thighs and pushing him back down into the mattress with one hand while she braced the other one against the pillow next to his head. "Ah, trying to be so brave. You think time really matters?" she countered scornfully. "Others have made deals for ten years, but they never get the full time unless they somehow manage to hide. But I always find them. And now that you've run and hid here, among these ... freaks, I'll have to make sure you don't wiggle out of my grasp before you can fulfill this deal we have. Keep in mind that Sammy's life is at stake here."

"Get off me," he snarled, pressing the words out through clenched teeth.

"Not likely," she growled angrily and used the power at her disposal to put pressure on him with a whole new meaning to the word. He grunted painfully when he felt the invisible weight settle in. "I don't like being cheated out of my rightful prize, Winchester," she whispered and leaned in so close, her lips almost touched his. "I can't wait to get my hands on you. And I know your brother. You boys always find a way to weasel your way out of things and I can't let that happen. I'm looking forward to this too much."

"I'm not … doing ... anything," Dean managed to press out while the ten-ton weight on his chest expanded, making him groan in agony.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Not my fault. Not my doing," she mocked. "Dean, Dean, Dean," she tutted and edged a little closer, her breath hot on his lips.

"GET THE HELL OFF HIM!"

Dean had heard his brother sound angry before, but nothing like that. Sam sounded furious, ready to kill, maim and destroy without hesitation. The psychic push that had sent Dean into two walls so far had a definite influence on the crossroad demon. She was hurled off Dean and straight through the window, which broke, spewing shards everywhere. But it was first when they heard the thud of her hitting the ground below that the pressure on Dean's chest disappeared.

Gasping, Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted at Sam when he rushed over to the broken window and looked down. It was only by the light coming from the hallway that he could actually see what was going on. "Ouch," Sam muttered and glanced back at Dean.

Then the overhead light came on and George stepped in, tying the cord of his bathrobe. "What happened?" he asked, his tone of voice startled.

"The crossroad demon," Sam said. "She's ... uh ... well ... see for yourself."

George glanced at Dean and frowned. "Are you alright, son?" he asked.

Dean dropped back down on the bed. "Yeah. Just feeling a little squashed," he countered and reached up to wipe the beads of perspiration away from his upper lip. When his hand came away bloody, he made a face. "Aw shit."

"Tony!" George called and turned around to face the healer who had already turned up. He looked a little bleary-eyed.

"Already here," he said and pushed past George over to the bed. "How are you feeling in general?"

"Just peachy," Dean countered and gave him a somewhat shaky thumbs-up.

"Where does it hurt?" Tony asked.

"Chest," Dean countered and closed his eyes.

Tony spread his hands over his chest while George joined Sam at the window and sent a long look down. "Jeez," he muttered and glanced at Sam. "I think we've found your second ability there, huh?" he added.

Sam glanced at Dean, who in turn sent him a brief glance back. "Seems like it," Sam agreed.

"Is she still alive?" Dean asked when Tony finally let off him and allowed him to sit up.

"The woman she possessed isn't," George countered and grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself for her death, Sam. Dean would be dead by now if you hadn't stopped her."

Sam didn't look happy about it and that generally made Dean feel better about it. Sam still seemed capable of feeling bad about hurting others and that made a big difference to Dean. "Yeah, don't blame yourself, Sam," he intoned and gave his brother a lighthearted grin when Sam glanced at him.

"Easy for you to say," he countered quietly. "I don't think I've ever been that mad before," he added and frowned deeply.

"Your brother was being threatened, Sam. It's a normal reaction," George said. "I wouldn't worry about it. The fact alone that you feel bad about it now tells me that you're very much in control right now. That's good news."

"I just killed someone. How can you call that good news?" Sam countered, sounding upset.

"You killed a demon-possessed woman, Sam. Someone who was, quite obviously, trying to kill your brother," George persisted in a quite, sedate tone of voice. "You cannot blame yourself for looking out for family."

Dean watched the exchange between the two of them and finally decided that being here was a very good thing. For one, Sam seemed to have the power to repel demons at the moment, which in and of itself was fabulous news. And George seemed to have the ability to talk to Sam in a way he understood and accepted, because Sam was visibly calming down now. For a brief moment Dean wished their father had been able to talk to Sam the same way. But that wish was as futile as hitting a pillow and he pushed it away again.

"What's going on?" Lisa had turned up in the doorway, looking bleary-eyed and a tad concerned. Then she focused on Dean and her expression turned from half-asleep to horrified. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she gasped and rushed over to him.

Dean, who had decided to be pretty much ticked off at her for that stunt she'd pulled on him the day before, suddenly found it impossible to be angry with her. She actually cared about him. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said and got up.

It was only at this point that Dean realized something odd was going on. Tony and George were watching Lisa, but both of them looked pretty much concerned. He glanced from one to the other and back again, noting in the process that Sam had noticed their concerned expressions too. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Lisa glanced at them and made a face, but she said nothing. Instead she stepped back from Dean and gave George a downright challenging look.

"What is she doing here?" George asked and nodded at her.

Dean glanced at Lisa, then back at the older man and frowned. "What do you mean? I thought she was ..." He trailed off and glanced at Lisa again. "They don't know you?"

"We do know her, but she's not one of us," Tony said.

"How long has she been here?" George asked quietly.

"She was here when we arrived," Dean said and decided to get out of the way before this turned ugly. To accomplish that, he scampered over the bed to the other side, actually looking to his brother for protection right now. It was subconscious, but he was still aware of doing it. After being liberated by Sam's freakish powers, he didn't think it was such a bad idea to keep Sam close.

Lisa watched them for a moment, then folded her arms over her chest. "I thought this place was open for all that needed your help," she said and focused on George.

"It is. But your kind is not welcome here and you should know that," George countered. "Why did you come?"

She sneered, then backed up a step, moving closer to the door. "Why do you think?" she countered and focused on Dean. "Distracting him away from finding a solution to his ... 'problem' was my primary job," she added and smiled. "Sorry Dean. It's nothing personal."

Dean had to admit that he was a little confused by this whole thing. She didn't strike him as being a demon, hadn't acted like she was possessed at any point. Rather than speaking directly to her, he glanced at George. "What the hell?" He couldn't even figure out how to phrase the question right now.

"Hard to explain, really," George countered without taking his eyes off Lisa. "Just like I have formed this group, she belongs to a similar group with the opposite goal. She's not possessed, just misguided."

Dean glanced at Sam, who glanced back at him with a deep frown furrowing his brow. "There's an evil cult out there?" Dean asked and arched an eyebrow.

"Well, cult isn't the right word, Dean," George said. "But one of my contemporaries had the same notion I did. Only her idea was to further the special kids to become demon fodder ahead of time. Unfortunate, really. She has lured a lot of potentials away from here. And most of her charges die."

"Yeah? Then how do you explain me?" Lisa snapped.

"I'm surprised nobody has noticed your presence before now," Tony said coldly.

"Yeah, well, mind-reading isn't my only ability, stupid," Lisa shot back. Then she focused on Sam. "That's what is in store for you if you choose your destiny instead of fighting it, Sam. Unimaginable powers. I can make others not see me. I can read their minds. And there's more. I develop new skills almost daily. It's very liberating."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be a freak," Sam countered and shifted closer to Dean.

"Liberating? You think it's liberating to mess with people's heads?" Dean asked, well aware by now that the only way she could have pulled that stunt on him had been because of her abilities.

She smirked. "Well, there's a certain amount of liberation in being able to con a conman, Dean," she countered.

"You're the conduit," George said quietly. "Not Sam. You're the one who lets demons into this area."

She spread out her arms with a snide grin. "Guilty as charged," she agreed. Then her expression tightened. "Why are you all still staring at me?" she demanded.

"Because you're being a brat, Lisa." Annie stepped into the room behind Lisa. "I'm sorry, sweety, but we can't let you leave. You know too much about us," she added.

…

Dean blinked and glanced around the dining room, then down at his plate, then over at Sam sitting across from him, engaged in conversation with Jennifer. For a moment his mind reeled. He had no idea how he'd gotten to this point and it worried the hell out of him. "Sam?"

Sam glanced at him. "What?" he asked, seemingly oblivious of this break in time that Dean was experiencing.

Dean pushed his chair back and got up. "We need to talk. Outside. Right now," he insisted.

Sam looked puzzled, but knew enough to not oppose him, so he excused himself and followed Dean outside. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Dean grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the house and over toward the exit and only stopped when he was sure nobody was within immediate earshot. "Do you remember what happened last night?" he asked.

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?" he countered.

Dean stared at him for a moment. "Sam, think. Use that freakish brain of yours," he insisted.

The frown on Sam's brow deepened. "What do you mean, Dean? What happened last night?"

"Okay, this is freaking me out," Dean confessed. "Last night, the crossroad demon paid me a visit. You don't remember that?"

Sam's expression revealed that he didn't. "Uh ... no," he said.

"She nearly squashed the freaking life out of me until you turned up and turned her into a pancake," Dean persisted, hoping it might spark recognition in Sam. But judging by Sam's expression, he remembered nothing.

"Dude ... are you sure you weren't having a nightmare?" Sam asked after a moment.

"You threw her out the freaking window with that psychic push you do," Dean insisted.

"Dean, I don't remember doing any such thing," Sam said and glanced back at the building. "Look. All the windows are intact. The room you're in is just above the entrance door."

"Sam, I have no clue how I got down to breakfast," Dean said sternly. "And ... Lisa was involved. She's with the opposition, has loads of powers."

Sam looked like he had eaten something that didn't agree with him. He blinked rapidly a few times, then made a face. "Dean, are you sure you're okay?"

Dean stared at him for a moment, struck by the fact that Sam didn't believe him. "I'm fine, Sam. And last night happened. I know it did. I ..." He trailed off, a little unsure now, and that didn't sit well with him. In sheer frustration, he ran both hands through his hair. "Look, man, I don't hallucinate, okay? I don't have 'visions'. That's your gig. Hell, if I had to go through what you go through every time you have one of your freaking visions, I'd blow my damned head off. But I know what I saw, Sam. I know what happened. And it happened. Okay?"

"Okay," Sam consented, but there as that look in his eyes and that guarded tone to his voice that told Dean he was merely playing along to placate his brother's ramblings. His attention shifted away from Dean and his expression changed. "There's Lisa. Why don't we ask her if she remembers last night?" he suggested and waved the girl over.

Dean wasn't totally sure that he liked being this close to Lisa, but the doubts about what he thought had happened last night were growing and he couldn't justify refusing to talk to Lisa right now.

She smiled ruefully. "Uh ... sorry about yesterday, Dean," she said.

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Listen, Lisa, did anything ... different happen last night?" he asked.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Dean is of the impression that the crossroad demon came for him last night and that you were somehow involved," Sam explained.

Dean made a face. Hearing it said like that made it sound really dumb. "Apart from reading people's minds, what other abilities do you have?" he asked.

Lisa eyed him for a moment, then glanced at Sam as if seeking for an explanation there. "So far none," she countered. "None that I'm aware of, anyway."

"Does George know you?" he asked, overruling whatever Sam had been in the process of saying.

She looked a little perplexed by his questions. "Of course George knows me. He's the one who brought me to this place," she countered. "Dean, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he growled and backed up a step. "Just peachy." That said, he turned and strode back toward the main building, intent on having a little chat with George about this. Something was wrong, big time, and it was really starting to bug him.

***

Sam watched his brother go with a frown furrowing his brow.

"You know, hallucinations can be the outcome of something wrong in his brain," Lisa said quietly.

"There's nothing wrong with his brain," Sam countered instantly. "It's this place. It messes with his head somehow," he added.

Lisa eyed him closely for a moment and Sam started to feel a bit self-conscious under her scrutiny. "That sounds kinda paranoid," she stated quietly.

"Yeah, well ..." He shook his head lightly, gave her a sideways glance and followed Dean back to the main building. Something wasn't right here and it was quite obviously affecting his brother in an adverse way.

"Hey, Dean, hold up," he called and broke into a run to catch up to his brother.

Dean stopped with one foot on the steps leading up to the porch, but didn't glance at him. "I'm not crazy," he said.

"I didn't say you were," Sam countered. "Something weird is going on here."

"What tipped you off, Einstein?" Dean shot back, then caught himself and sighed. "Sorry," he muttered and continued up the steps.

"Dean, I think we should talk to George about this," Sam tried.

"Talk to George about what?"

They both came to a full stop. The front door had just opened and Annie stood there, eying them both curiously.

Sam glanced at Dean, who was looking past her and saying nothing, and figured it wouldn't hurt. "Dean thinks something happened last night. I don't remember it, though."

Annie turned her attention to Dean. "What happened last night?" she asked.

"You know," Dean countered almost grumpily.

"Since I'm asking, you can safely assume that I do not know, Dean. So why don't you tell me?" she countered. Her tone was soft, understanding. She was used to dealing with paranoid people.

"I don't know what the hell you did to me, but I remember everything until the moment you stepped into the room," Dean countered and eyed her darkly.

"I have done nothing to you, Dean. Why don't you tell me everything and I'll tell you what I think this might be," she said. "Let's go into the den."

She turned and walked away, but Dean made no move to follow her. Sam eyed him for a moment, then gave Dean a shove forward. "At least give her the benefit of the doubt, man," he muttered under his breath.

Dean glared at him, but followed Annie into the den near the rear of the house, where she was in the process of kicking the few occupants out.

Once the room was emptied of all but the three of them, she closed the doors without touching them and waved at the sofas. "Sit," she said.

Dean made a face and again needed some prompting from Sam to find a seat. He dropped down on the sofa, folded his arms over his chest and stared morosely ahead of himself.

Sam settled down next to him, a little unsure of what the hell was going on. Dean claimed he didn't have nightmares, but this sounded like a nightmare to Sam, even though he still didn't have all the details.

Annie eyed Dean thoughtfully for a moment. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened last night?" she asked.

***