In no time we arrived at the house, both of them gearing up, and Dean handed me a flashlight. We carefully made our way through the house, and to the basement, heading down the stairs one by one. Dean in front, me in the middle, and Sam at the rear. I shone my torch around, as we descended further into the basement. Things seemed quiet, but I had a stronger feeling down here, as if someone was lurking in the shadows.

"Boo-yah! Master chief is in the house, bizatches!" Sam lets out a playful comment, which is unusual for him. Dean and I stop in our tracks, cocking our heads over our shoulders to stare at him.

"Are you all right?" Dean questioned his brother.

"Yeah. Fine," Sam snapped his head to meet his brother's gaze. I just shook my head, and passed Dean, heading further into the basement, and I noticed a green patch of dirt. But I wasn't the only one.

"Well, I'll be damned. Willow moss," Dean joined me on my right.

"Yeah, right. It's, uh, supposed to grow over witches' graves, right?" It sounded like Sam was assuring himself that it was the correct term to use. Dean twisted his head over his shoulder to stare at Sam, as I crouched to the level of the grave. I stuck my hand over the grave, and I could feel something buried in here.

"Definitely, someone buried here," I alerted the boys, as I stood back up, locking gaze with Dean. "Dig her up," I offered a smile to Dean, but he complied with my answer. He placed his things next to the grave. He opened the duffel bag, pulled out a shovel, whole the gas, and salt was in the bag.

He strikes the ground with the shovel, and begins to dig, and dump the dirt to his left. Not even five minutes passed, and he already created a pile of dirt, and revealed the bones of Maggie Briggs. I stepped around the grave, and Dean's things, and came to stand above the grave sight.

"I'll start," I locked eyes with Dean, who just gave me a nod, as he kept on shoveling the dirt. I crouched down, and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, before exhaling through my mouth. "C'est cette nouveau vie," I began the incantation, but I mumbled it under my breath, and you had to be close to hear it. "Nouveau âme," I extended my hands out to the grave, palms facing down, and over the bones.

"Hey, man, I'm really sorry about this," I hear Sam say.

"Sorry about what?" Dean responded, but I kept my focus, and my eyes remained shut. The next thing I hear is things breaking and a loud grunt echoing in my ears.

"Sam!" Dean yells, as I snapped open my eyes and quickly stood to my feet as Dean rushed over to help his brother. I was about to open my mouth to finish the spell, but the next thing I knew, I'm thrown sideways by an unknown force. I slammed through a large cabinet, among other things, and I heard glass smashing. I was thrown with such force, I didn't have time to comprehend the broken wood falling on top of me, and the remainder of the cabinet. Essentially burying me under it all. I groaned, stretching my limbs out, but I tried to lean up, but was forced back to the ground.

"She's pissed!" I yelled out, but the next thing I heard was Dean graunting, as he was also thrown. I tried my best to struggle free, my mind racing with spells that could get me out of here. But the feeling of being forced down lifted, and the crackling of fire came to ear. Then rushed footsteps, and the moving of wood, and lifting the cabinet up from me. I rolled out from under it, and stood to my feet, Dean lowering the cabinet back down.

"Thanks," I said, standing to my feet, and brushed the reminder of the glass and splitters of the wood away.

"Dude... That was sweet!" Sam announces, as if this was the first time he ever torched some bones. I slit my eyes, thinking that he's just messing around, and there wasn't really any damage. I scoffed, and walked towards Sam, and the grave. Suddenly, a pain shot through my lower abdomen, making me stop mid-track, and pulled my leather jacket to the side to see a shard of glass embed into my skin. Blood had already stained the dress, making it all wet.

"You've been impaled!" Sam states with wide eyes, as if I was going to die. Dean quickly came on over, and noticed the shard of glass.

"Pull it out would you," I aimed the order to Dean, as I knew it would satisfy him so much, seeing me in pain.

"Don't pull it out! She needs a doctor!" Sam rushes out the words, concerned for my safety.

"Do you have a screw loose or something?" I asked with a 'duh' expression on my face. Dean got in front of me, and pitched the glass carefully, his eyes staring into mine. Mesmerizing they were.

"On three," he states, and I nodded. "Three," he yanks the glass from my stomach, as I tinged a little, but didn't make a sound. I could see that the shard was a bit long, and stained with blood. However, I could already feel my skin stitching back together.

"Is that paybackback for your shoulder?" I recalled the memory, chuckling at it. He just smiled, a genuine one.

"Maybe," he states in a rugged tone. Throwing the shard to the side, and it shatters, scattering smaller shards.

"Won't you bleed out?!" Sam rushes the words out.

"I'm already healing. Witch, remember," I parted my jacket, to see the wound, for Sam so he could see the flesh stitching back together. A flash of amazement, and confusion claimed his face, but it was brief. Due to the fact Dean and I were staring at him with the same expression.

"A good thing then," he brushes off, seeming not to care but the glint in his eyes told more. "Can we go?" He asks, moving through the basement, trying to keep clear of me. I shook my head having no time for this, and moved on over to look over the burning witch. I swirled my hand around, and the fire below twisted, and bent to my will. It swirled up from the burning bones, and reached my hand, twisting its way through my fingers, before resting at the center of my palm. In a matter of seconds, the fire below went out, as it all collected in my hand. I crushed my hand into a fist, and the flame dimed with the action, until it was extinguished. I looked into the grave, and the bones had fallen to ash, and nothing remained. Maggie Briggs was truely dead.

...........................

Defeating Maggie Briggs felt like a win, we all contributed to the case. Some more than others, but I'll let it slide. The three of us were at the Cloverleaf that was on route six. We sat at a table, and ordered more drinks. More shots, because we were taking it as a win.

"Here you go, guys," the waitress states, having six shots on her tray, as she begins to place them on the table.

"Do me a favor, sweetheart, could you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon? And fry an egg on top of it, would you?" Dean ordered his food, as he seems to be always hungry.

"Absolutely," the waitress took a mental note of his order, as she finished placing the shots onto the table, and took the old ones away.

"Ooh, that – that sounds good. Ditto," Sam wanted the same thing Dean ordered.

"Can I have just some fries, please," I added my order into the mix as she met my gaze briefly with a smile.

"Be right back with your order," she states, offering one final smile, and walking away. Sam picked up two of the shots and passed them to me, as we all were sitting on a rounded table, so I was at the center - so to speak. I was to Sam's right, and Dean's left.

"Ok, who are you and what have you done with Sam?" Dean spoke, I couldn't really tell if he was joking or not.

"W-What do you mean?" I see Sam flash a worried look on his face, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Bacon cheeseburgers now?" Dean clarified, as it was out of character for him to have one.

"I don't know. I eat them, don't I?" Sam replied, again trying to clarify his ways. "Anyways, we are celebrating," Sam picks up a shot glass - which looks small in his hand.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean picks up his, and I pick up one as well. "Another one bites the dust. Nice work today." he remarks, his eyes flickering to me too. He was including me in this win.

"You too. I had a, uh, really awesome day, man. Seriously," Sam retorted, before downing the shot in one, but made a sour face, like he never had a drink before. I downed the shot in one, not making a face at all.

"I have something to look forward to when I die. Willow moss," I joked, chuckling slightly at my own comment.

"A really awesome day?" Dean couldn't get over how Sam worded his sentence.

"Yeah. Why not?" Sam replied, not thinking anything of it.

"It was a random, D-list ghost hunt. That's... That's awesome to you?" Dean chuckled at the end of his comment, still not believing Sam could be in this such joy.

"I can't be in a good mood?" He retorted, parting his hands slightly, as if it was a crime for him to be in a good mood.

"Yeah, I guess. It's... No, actually," Dean wasn't going to say anything but changed his mind mid-sentence. "It's not really your style, Sam," he confesses, knowing his brother better than I.

"Well, then, it's a new me. I mean, come on. Why shouldn't I be happy? I got a gun," he imitates a gun in his hand, as if he was a child acting something out. "I'm getting drunk, and I look like this," Sam spins his index finger around his face, indicating his beauty. It was a bit vain of him to do, and I don't think Sam was like that. "I don't know," he spoke after relieving a sigh from his mouth. "You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you?" He pondered the random ass question.

"Uh, yeah, Sam, I feel like that a lot,"

"No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan. So, I don't know. I guess it's, uh, it's just nice to do a little ass-kicking for a change, that's all," he literally poured his heart out to us, and I know that isn't Sam. "Uh, you know what? I – I'm drunk. Sorry. Just – Just forget it," he tries to brush it off as being drunk, and this was just rambling from his drunk state.

"No, no. It's alright. It's, uh... I'll drink to that," Dean raised the second shot glass up, as I did the same. The three of us clinked our glasses as one. We down the shots in one, and I didn't make a face, as it just tasted normal to me. "Wow, you know, is it just me or are we actually drinking together?" Dean seemed surprised at the fact.

"We don't do it that often, huh?" '

"Yeah, you could say that," Dean scoffs through the start of the words.

"Well, we should. You're a good guy, Dean," the way Sam was speaking, was like he just woke up today and had no recollection of his life. The way he was speaking, it was like questions.

"Man, you are drunk," Dean announces, taking a swig of his beer. But at the same time, I turned towards Sam, and gripped him by his jacket, and pulled him in, our lips smashing together in the heat of the moment. Our lips moved in sync, he moaned against my lips, not the pleasure kind, but the stunned kind. After a few more moments of kissing, I pulled back, and literally pushed him back against his chair, and it rocked with the force. It was like one of those heat of the moment kisses, but it was on brand for me to do that.

I used the middle finger of my left hand, to wipe against the outline of my lips. Sam looked at me stunned; widen eyed, mouth gape, as if this was our first time kissing. The feeling I got when I kissed Sam, was not the same as previous kisses. I knew there and then, it wasn't Sam. All the things finally connected. To the eyes, this was Sam, the sasquatch of a man, but inside, he was different. The kiss only confirmed that...

"Ok," Dean longed out the word, before taking another swig of his beer. Without a word, I swung my legs around, and got off the chair, and headed towards the bathroom. Their eyes were on me, but I paid them no mind.

Once in the bathroom, I went to the first empty stall, and closed it behind me. The overall bathroom was clean and smelled alright - I couldn't imagine the men's bathroom. Be piss up against the wall. I turned to face the toilet, and waved my hand up and the lid of the seat shot up, and pressed against the back. I see the clear toilet water, before spitting the saliva into the water. It was formy as I expected, it was mixed with Sam's.

"Hanc salivam communica," I began, staring at the pool of water. "Ostende mihi verum post larvam," as the incantation was spoken, the water began to swirl on its own, creating a whirlpool. The vortex of the whirlpool faded, and was replaced with clear watery images of Sam, and this younger guy, teenager more like it. The image faded to the next of a book, then of a spell, and then Sam and this Kid came on together and switched places and then the vision vanished. If I had his blood, I would have gotten a clearer vision but his saliva is all I could get without suspicion.

"Who's the kid in Sam's body?" I mumbled the question to myself. The thing was I couldn't just out him. He could have the real Sam somewhere.

I turned, exiting the stall and leaving the restroom behind. Walking back to the table, I see Sam and Dean eating their burgers. While my basket of fries was at my place on the table. As I passed Dean, he gave me a side glance as he continued to eat his burger.

"Sorry about that, I just needed the loo, desperately," I announced, apologetically. Trying to ensure that there wasn't anything wrong. Sam just nodded his head with a smile, before shoving in a few fries.

I ate the basket of fries that I ordered, and we remained silent for the remainder of our food. I kept my mouth shut, which was unlike me. I would have gone in demon style and tortured the poor kid. But Sam's life was on the line here.

After eating our lunch, Sam headed over to the bar to get another drink and started talking to this older woman. I was waiting for the right moment to talk to Dean. Within moments, the older woman made her way towards the exit of the Cloverleaf with Sam tailing her. She exits and Sam stops, taking his gaze between Dean and I.

"We're gonna do it," he gestured with his hand between him and the woman, before a massive smile came on his face. It was like he was a child. He left the Cloverleaf without another word.

"By the way that's not Sam," I replied with a chilled demeanor, as Dean's eyes met with mine.

"What do you mean?" Dean didn't discourage my comment.

"Somehow someone's hijacked Sam's body, and it's like freaky Friday up in here," as the words rolled off my lips, Dean's expression twisted into denial if not believing my statement. "Sam was shocked when he saw me impaled. And when he learnt I was a Witch. The way he says things, like he doesn't know himself. You can't deny that he hasn't been off more than he should be," I pleaded my case to Dean, my eyes never disconnecting from him. His face twisted to surprise and then to realization. The weird things throughout the day made sense to him now.

"So, that kiss," he words seemed to trail off, and kind of embarrassed to bring it up the rest.

"Was my way of confirming my suspicions," I told the truth. "Plus, I did a spell in the bathroom... That isn't Sam. It's someone else," Dean couldn't argue this away, he can't deny what his eyes have seen these past 24 hours.

"Then let's go," Dean was determined to get his brother back, and found out what the hell was going on. I did hope we found the real Sam safe and sound.

******************