A/N: Some slight smut is in part of this chapter, but it' short and doesn't go into a lot of detail.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN:
DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME.

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"WHAT'S THE DIAGNOSIS?"

"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor softly said, standing near the edge of the hospital bed that Bobby was laid in while Sam and Dean stood off to the side, concern evident on their features. "He seems perfectly healthy."

"Except that he's comatose," Dean retorted, arms folded over his chest and a firm look on his face as his eyes went from Bobby to the doctor.

"Mr. Snyderson, you're his emergency contact," the doctor said, meeting Dean's harsh gaze. "Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

Dean faintly shook his head, stealing a glance towards Sam. "No, he-he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch a cold."

The doctor let out a sigh, his gaze flicking back towards Bobby's unconscious figure.

A maid had found Bobby asleep in his bed of the motel that he was staying in, noticing something was off when he didn't react to her coming in on accident or apologizing for it. She'd attempted to wake him when he didn't respond, but he didn't budge no matter what she did. An ambulance was then called and he was brought to the closest hospital, but they were struggling to find a way to help Bobby in his condition as they couldn't find out what was even wrong. Dean had been called earlier that morning as he was listed as Bobby's emergency contact, he and Sam racing instantly off to see Bobby.

"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" Sam questioned, sorrow circling in his dimmed eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it. . .so we don't know how to treat it," the doctor softly replied, a glum expression on his features. He truly wanted to help, but he just didn't know how he could without knowing what was actually going on with Bobby. "He just. . .went to sleep, and didn't wake up."

Dean and Sam shared a silent look with one another, most likely wondering if Bobby had been working a case that caused him to find himself in an unexplainable coma. Their eyes then flickered back to Bobby, the same thought popping into their minds as Dean thanked the doctor. They left the hospital a few minutes later, heading to the motel Bobby had been staying at to check out his room and see if they could find hopefully something there to explain what was going on.

"So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?" Sam asked as they entered the motel room, his eyes skimming over the plainly decorated room.

"Unless he's takin' an extremely lame vacation. . ." Dean answered, closing the door behind him as they walked into the center of the room. There wasn't much there except for two beds and a small living room area, a round coffee table in the middle of the couches with an empty mug placed near the edge. There were a few dressers pushed against the walls, some newspapers and magazines placed on top of them. A desk was by one of the windows, but there was nothing there except for some pens, a few lore books, and a dusty lamp. There was a suitcase tossed on the spare bed, some more of Bobby's clothes tossed over a chair near a flimsy-looking couch.

"I mean, he must have been workin' a job, right?"

Sam headed to one side of the room, Dean going in the opposite direction. "Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know?" Dean said as Sam opened a drawer in one of the dressers, but it was completely empty. Dean pulled open one of the drawers of the other dresser across the room, but that one was completely empty, too. "Research, news clippings. . ." Sam turned in the direction of the closet after finding the rest of the drawers empty, a thought occurring to him as he stared at the closed doors. "Or a friggin' pizza box or a beer can."

Dean walked away from the dresser to continue checking out the rest of the room while Sam curiously headed towards the closet. He quietly pushed the doors open, spotting some of Bobby's clothes hung up on the metal hangers. He reached to the side and flicked on the light, noticing something strange poking out from behind the shirts. Then turned to Dean, raising his brows. "How 'bout this?"

Sam moved the clothes out of the way to reveal the news clippings, maps, and pictures that they were hoping to find that would've proved Bobby was working a case tacked to the back of the closet where it wouldn't be obvious if someone beside Bobby came in. There were pictures of roots, mushrooms, seeds, and a map where Bobby had written "Pittsburgh" in big letters and underlined it. There were multiple post-its with addresses and phone numbers messily written down on them as well, one pinned near a piece of paper about a special kind of plant.

Dean lightly chuckled, taking it all in. "Good old Bobby——always coverin' up his tracks."

"You make heads or tails of any of this?" Sam wondered.

Dean made a face, taking one of the papers about a plant and reading off the title of it. "Silene capensis, which of course means absolutely nothing to me."

"Here——obit," Sam said, taking one of the newspaper clippings to read from it as his eyes skimmed over an obituary. "Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, university neurologist."

"How'd he bite it?"

"Um. . .actually, they don't know. They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up," Sam answered.

Dean took the clipping from Sam's hand, reading it himself before stealing a look towards his little brother. "That sound familiar to you?"

"All right, um. . ." Sam began, shifting so he was facing Dean with his hand propped against the closet frame, "So, let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death, you know, hunting after something——"

"——that started hunting him," Dean finished for Sam, looking up from the clipping.

"Yeah."

"All right, stay here. See if you can make heads or tails of this," Dean told Sam, pointing towards the closet.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna look into the good doctor myself," Dean answered, heading for the door while Sam remained by the closet. Dean opened the door, turning around to briefly look at Sam. "Call Birdie, too——let her know what's goin' on with Bobby. Maybe she already knows somethin'."

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As Dean and Dr. Gregg's research assistant, Maya Sander, entered Dr. Greggs' office, his eyes raked over the square room. Books upon boxes were cluttered throughout the entire office, ready to be packed up and removed. Some books were still stored on the shelves, a few having collected dust over time. There were some framed certificates hung up on the walls as they'd yet to be taken down, most already packed and ready to be taken away along with Dr. Gregg's other belongings.

"So you're Dr. Gregg's lab assistant?" Dean asked, stepping into the middle of the room as his eyes glanced over Dr. Gregg's belongings.

"That's right," the assistant said, following Dean inside with her eyes flickering over the room, uncertainty looming in her eyes.

"Well, his death must have come as a shock to you," Dean said, slowly moving towards Dr. Gregg's cluttered desk.

"Yeah, it did," Maya said, standing behind Dean as a sad smile appeared on her lips. "But, still, go in your sleep, peaceful——that's what you wish for, right?"

"Yeah. Right." Dean glanced at a book placed on the doctor's desk, picking it up as he glanced towards Maya in thought. "Dr. Gregg uh. . .studied sleeping disorders? Dreams?"

"I don't understand," Maya told him, brows furrowed together. "I went over all of this with the other detectives."

Dean put the book back down on the desk and looked at the shorter woman with curiosity. "You already spoke to other detectives?"

"Yes. A very nice older man with a beard, and uh, his partner——a younger woman with blonde hair."

"Well, I'd love to hear it again if you don't mind."

Maya shifted her stance, offering Dean a fake smile. "Thing is, I'm sort of busy. Maybe we could do this later?"

"Sure. Yeah. Just bring you down to the station later this afternoon," Dean firmly replied, seeing her face fall at his words, gaze flickering towards the floor for a brief moment, "and get your statement on tape, do it all official-like."

Maya pursed her lips together, holding her hands out in front of her slightly. "Look, okay, I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments——not until I was cleaning out his files."

"His experiments——the ones he was conducting on. . .sleeping?"

"No one knew, okay? Not the university, not anybody," Maya answered. Then she folded her arms over her chest, eyes pinned to Dean as she continued to grow more defensive. "I already spoke with a lawyer and he told me I can't be held liable for anything."

"Maybe you couldn't, but that was before the new evidence came to light," Dean easily lied to the woman, hoping it would get Maya talking more.

"New evidence?" Maya repeated, confusion appearing on her face. Dean hummed in response and nodded. "What new evidence?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Dean said, continuing to think quickly on his feet.

Maya heavily sighed, a frown etched on her lips. "Look, I'm just a grad student. This was a gig to cover tuition."

"Maybe so, but still, this-this. . .this could go on your permanent record. Unless you hand over the doctor's research to me——all of it."

Thankfully, the assistant began to cooperate with Dean, giving him all of Dr. Gregg's research to avoid being taken to the police station or being held liable for the things her deceased boss had done. He thanked her with a smile and carried it all to the impala that was parked a few spots down the street, reaching into his pocket to call Sam as he closed the trunk and moved towards the driver's side of the impala.

"Hello?" Sam answered after a few rings, still checking over all of Bobby's findings back in his motel room. With all of the information Bobby had gathered, Sam was still having some trouble with attempting to piece it all together. When seeing Dean was the one who was calling him, he hoped he might've found more to go on or at least something that can point them in the direction to start piecing it all together.

"Hey, you get a hold of Bird by chance yet?"

Sam softly sighed, leaning back in the desk chair, peering down at the news clippings. "No. But I left her a message about Bobby and——"

"Son of a bitch."

"I'm sure she's fine, Dean. She was with Kai——"

"She's workin' with Bobby on this, Sammy," Dean hastily interrupted.

Sam's eyes widened, feeling concern automatically begin to bubble. "What?"

"Dr. Gregg's assistant said she talked to a man with a beard and a younger woman with blonde hair. You know any other blonde that'll work with Bobby?"

"No," Sam murmured, his frown deepening. If Bobby was in trouble, then that meant Birdie could have been, too; and, with their luck, she most likely already was. "I'll, uh, I'll look around——see if there's anything here that might say where she was staying, or if, uh, maybe somethin' came up."

"Let me know what you find. I'm gonna follow up with a lead," Dean told him.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said, standing up from the desk. He quickly hung up the phone, furrowing his brows together as glanced around Bobby's room. He wouldn't expect Birdie and Bobby to share a room when working a case together——mostly because she "apparently" snores too loud for Bobby's liking——but Sam would've thought some of Birdie's things might've been left in there.

He glanced down at his phone, clicking on Birdie's name again. "Come on, come on," he murmured, running his hand through his hair. He made his way towards the door, going to head to the front desk to see if anyone who worked there remembered seeing Birdie there or with Bobby at any point. The phone rang and rang as he started to walk down the hall, but he stopped when he heard a familiar ringtone coming from inside the room next to Bobby's.

His eyes immediately snapped towards the door, spotting a do not disturb sign hanging from the door handle. He lowered his phone from his ear, ending the call to see if just maybe he could've been wrong about who was staying inside that room, but the ringing stopped seconds after he closed his phone.

He quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out his lockpick set. He picked at the lock with ease, hastily opening the door as his gaze searched for any sign of Birdie. His eyes immediately darted to the desk where Birdie was sitting in a rather uncomfortable position, her head laid beside her computer with her phone placed off to the side of her where she could've easily reached it if someone tried calling her. Her laptop was slightly propped open like she'd been on it when she found herself falling asleep, but the screen was completely black as it had turned itself off after going untouched.

"No, no, no," Sam mumbled, rushing up beside her and gently shaking her shoulders. "Birdie, hey, hey, wake up." Birdie remained completely still as Sam attempted to wake her. Her eyes stayed peacefully closed, but that was nothing like what was going on inside her head. "Birdie!"

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"Are you gonna do what needs to be done, or am I gonna have to fucking clean up after you and your father again?"

"We don't need to do this."

Serena slammed her fist against the steering wheel, ignoring how Birdie flinched in the passenger seat. Night was upon them as they sat outside a simple two-story house, not a single star in sight as clouds blocked them all out while the threat of rain loomed over their heads. All of the lights were turned off inside the house, the residents having gone to bed just a little over an hour ago. Persistent crickets chirped in the distance, seemingly a perfect calm, summer night before a storm was set to crash down. But, as Birdie sat inside her mother's rusted car, her dark eyes pinned to her lap as she felt the rage radiating off of her mother from the driver's seat, she knew the night was anything but calm.

"For fucks sake, Birdie," Serena snapped, sucking in a deep breath before looking in her daughter's direction. "How do you expect to become a decent hunter when you're older when you won't fucking do what's necessary? Huh? Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Birdie softly whimpered when Serena reached over, grabbing her along the jaw to make her look at her. Serena held Birdie's face tightly, eyes sharply narrowed. Birdie nervously gulped, widened eyes gazing back into her mother's that lacked any kind of emotion but pure rage. "We're leaving in the morning," Birdie meekly whispered, too afraid to speak any louder with the deadly look shining in her mother's eyes. "We don't have to do this."

Serena dropped her hand from Birdie's face, making the girl wonder if she would just maybe listen to her, but sadly that wasn't the case.

Birdie yelped as Serena harshly smacked her across the face, Birdie's head snapping to the side at the brute force. She clenched her eyes shut, refraining from frowning as she heard Serena grumble under her breath about how Birdie was a terrible daughter that never listened to her. Birdie remained perfectly still in her seat, eyes fearfully darting towards her mother when she saw the woman move just the slightest amount in her seat. "Come on, Birdie," Serena huffed, opening her door with a roll of her eyes. "It's time I taught you an important life lesson."

Fearing that she might be struck again, Birdie did as told and followed her mother out of the car. Serena quickly rounded the front of the car, missing Birdie's wince when she roughly grabbed her by the wrist. She dragged her around the side house, being cautious to make sure that there wasn't anyone around to see them sneaking towards the backdoor. Birdie did her best to keep up with Serena and be as silent as possible, hoping that the woman would loosen her grip if she saw that she was doing what she wanted.

"Mom, I——"

Serena whirled around, slightly moving Birdie's arm and making her gasp. "Not one word, Birdie. Do you understand?"

Birdie stole a glance towards the house, a sinking feeling weighing her down. She let out a shaky breath, looking back up at her mother. It was hard to distinguish the woman's exact expression in the slim moonlight that beamed down through the trees that stood tall around the house, but she could perfectly see the snarl curled on her mother's lips. However, she pushed her doubts aside, yanking her arm from her mother's grasp. "No," she said, narrowing her eyes at her mother. Serena stood up straight, taking a step closer, but Birdie didn't back down. "I-I-I won't do it. I won't."

"You don't have a choice," Serena seethed.

"Yes I do," Birdie said.

Serena deeply sighed to herself, momentarily closing her eyes.

Then she swung her hand.

Birdie tried dodging it, but she wasn't fast enough. Her mother's hand collided with the side of her face, knocking her on the grass beneath their feet. She hissed as she crumbled towards the ground, managing to catch herself with her hands before her head could smash against the ground. Serena kneeled down next to her, grabbing her arm to force her upright. Birdie gritted her teeth together, unable to look anywhere but at her mother.

"Don't you ever tell me no again, do you understand me, Birdie?" Birdie panted, remaining silent. Serena smacked Birdie again, seeing Birdie scrunch her face together in pain. She tightened her grip on Birdie's arm, her face just inches away from Birdie's as she struggled to remain calm. "I said——do you understand me?"

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, faintly nodding her head. "Y-yes. . .I understand."

Serena pulled Birdie back onto her feet, not letting go of her daughter until they managed to sneak through the eerily quiet house. Birdie made sure not to make a single sound as she followed her mother, simply gritting her teeth or clenching her jaw whenever Serena tightened her deadly grip or gave her a forceful tug in a certain direction. Birdie didn't even realize that they'd reached a room until Serena finally let go of her, slowly pushing open the door. Birdie sourly twisted her lips as Serena quietly entered the dark bedroom, glancing around the narrow hall to make sure that someone hadn't gotten up.

Birdie turned her head towards her mother again, frowning to herself when Serena grabbed her again and tugged her into the room. Serena quickly closed the bedroom door behind her, slowly locking it to make sure it didn't make as much noise. Then she let go of Birdie, placing her hands on her shoulders and moving her to stand directly in front of the door. "No matter what happens, do exactly as I say, okay?" Serena firmly said, peering down at Birdie with a look that was almost daring her to defy her again. "And if someone tries to come in, shoot them."

Birdie's eyes widened in horror at her mother's words, gaping up at the woman. However, Serena raised her hand, giving her a warning glare. Birdie involuntarily flinched, quickly nodding in agreement to avoid being struck once again. Serena then nodded in approval and crept towards the bed on the other side of the room, her hand discreetly slipping into her back pocket. Birdie frowned again, pressing her back against the wooden door.

She helplessly watched Serena pull out one of her many knives that she kept on her at all times, the silver glimmering in the moonlight that streamed in through the curtains a few inches away from the bed.

Serena didn't spare Birdie another glance as she leaned down towards the figure in the bed, bringing her knife closer and closer to them. Birdie's bottom lip wobbled, eyes slightly widening when she heard a faint gasp. Serena hissed and firmly pressed her hand against the person's mouth to muffle them.

Birdie took a step forward, looking towards her mother. "Mom, please. You don't have to——"

A mortified expression appeared on Birdie's features as her mother slit the person's throat without any hesitation, her lips falling open in horror. Birdie took a cautious step back as the figure stilled in their bed, head lulling to one side as blood seeped from the gnarly wound.

Serena let out a heavy breath and stood up straight, head snapping in Birdie's direction. "Now it's your turn."

"Wait, what?" Birdie asked.

"I said it's your turn."

Birdie gaped towards her mother, jumping in surprise when Serena flung the knife towards her; she just barely missed as it embedded itself in the door, but Serena wouldn't miss again.

Birdie gasped and spun on her heel, hastily sprinting out of the room as Serena shouted after her. Her mother's footsteps pounded against the floor behind her, Birdie no longer caring if she awoke the other people inside the house. Were there other people in the house, anyways, or had Serena told Birdie that in an attempt to make her be more complicit? Birdie didn't have time to ponder the thought, running into a room at the end of the hall when she saw it was partially open.

She quickly slammed it shut, firmly pressing her back against it just as Serena finally caught up to her. "Fuck!" Serena shouted, hitting her fist against the door. Birdie jumped at the harsh sound, feeling her body shuddering as her mother continued to shout, becoming more and more vulgar as Birdie's eyes frantically looked around the room for an escape, but she was completely trapped inside the house with her mother.

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Sam immediately took Birdie to the hospital when she didn't wake from his many, many attempts to wake her, discovering that she was in the same exact condition as Bobby. Immense dread filled his entire body whenever he stared down at her unconscious figure, her chest slowly rising and falling as she laid in a hospital bed just a few doors down from Bobby. Her curls framed her face as part of the hospital gown she wore peaked out from the top of the covers that were tucked along her sides, some of her scars from fighting dozens of monsters over the years peeking out underneath. IVs were embedded in her arms as stick-on pads were stuck to her to monitor her at all times for any signs of improvement, or in the worst scenario, decreasing vitals. She would've absolutely hated it if she'd been awake to see what was going on, and Sam would've rather her been there and angry about it than in that condition and completely unaware of it.

Once Sam had checked her in, he called Dean after he'd arrived at the hospital, hearing his big brother mutter multiple swear words before he heavily sighed, saying he'd be there once he finished talking to one of Dr. Greggs' sleep study subjects. It didn't take very long for the oldest Winchester to arrive, coming right to Birdie's side with a prominent frown on his lips. So, that was where he currently was while Sam reluctantly headed back to the motel to see if there was anything in Birdie's room that they could've added to what all Bobby had.

Sam entered Birdie's room a few hours later when he returned to the hospital, having checked on Bobby before he found Dean still at Birdie's side. Dean turned his head at the sound of someone entering the room, seeing his little brother approaching. They shared a look before Sam walked further into the room, coming to stand at the edge of the bed where a tray was while he held some files in his hands.

"How is she?" Sam asked, letting out a sigh.

Dean just shook his head, giving Sam an answer. "How's Bobby?"

"No change," Sam sadly answered.

Dean ran his hand over his chin as he turned his attention back to Birdie. He hated to see her like that, unable to help or fix whatever was going on with her and Bobby. He stood up from the chair a moment later, noticing the files Sam had brought. "What you got?" He questioned, walking over to Sam.

"Well, considering what you told me about the doc's experiments. . .Bobby's wall's starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."

"How so?"

Sam held up a picture of a plant he pulled out from the folder, handing it over to Dean for him to see for himself. "This plant, Silene capensis, is also known as African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries."

"Let me guess——they dose up, bust out the didgeridoos, and start kicking around the hackey."

Sam breathed out a faint laugh. "Not quite. If you believe the legends, it's used for dream-walking. I mean, entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads."

"I take it we believe the legends," Dean noted, turning his head towards Sam.

"When don't we? But, dream-walking is just the tip of the iceberg." Sam reached over, taking the photo from Dean to show him another one.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it——with enough practice——you can become a regular Freddy Krueger. You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, you could turn good dreams bad."

"And killing people in their sleep?" Dean presumed.

Sam nodded, lips pursed. "For example." Dean breathed out a sigh, eyes flickering towards Birdie. "So let's say, uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style."

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night."

"But what about Bobby and Bird?" Sam wondered, eyes raking over Birdie's figure. "I mean, if the killer came after them, how are they both still alive?"

Dean sighed again, eyes still pinned to Birdie, wondering what exactly was going on inside her head. "I don't know."

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Heavy footsteps pounded down the staircase, a shriek echoing off the walls as a knife embedded itself in the wall right where Birdie had been seconds later. Birdie's eyes widened in horror, a yelp escaping when Serena rounded the corner and her gaze immediately locked on Birdie. "Stop running, Birdie!" Serena hollered, seething in a way Birdie had only ever seen her mother do when going up against a vile monster. "It's time to pay for what you did!"

Birdie ignored her mother and hurried down a narrow hallway, heavily panting as her heart rate started to increase more and more as the minutes passed by. Serena was only a few steps behind her, grunting as she failed to catch up her daughter.

"Mom, please, stop!" Birdie pleaded, stealing a glance over her shoulder as she ran into the kitchen. "This-this isn't you! Stop!"

"This is me, Birdie," Serena snarkily replied, rounding the corner. Birdie whimpered, backing up until she bumped into the counter behind her. A gasp escaped her lips, realizing that she was trapped with nowhere to run. "The me that you needed to become so you could take down anything and anyone that stood in your way."

Birdie whimpered again, shaking her head. "No. . .there's-there's a better way. . ."

"No, there isn't Birdie. Can't you see that? What do you think I've been trying to teach you all these years?" Serena asked, twirling the bloodied knife between her fingers, eyes dangerously darkened towards Birdie.

"Mom, please. . ." Birdie whispered, eyes shimmering with tears. Serena groaned in frustration, shooting Birdie a nasty glare. "You-you don't have to do this! If you'd just——"

"Why is it so fucking hard for you to just listen, to do as you're told? Why do you have to be so rebellious, huh? So fucking pathetic? Do you know how embarrassing it is to say that you're my daughter?" Serena harshly demanded to know, creeping closer and closer towards Birdie. Birdie deeply frowned, eyes flickering to the side to see if there was something she could use to defend herself against her mother. "For fucks sake, Birdie, even Dean's wise enough to shut his mouth when John gives him an order."

"This can't be real. . ." Birdie whispered, shaking her head.

Serena wickedly smirked, having overheard Birdie. Serena shifted, holding up the knife, taking another daunting step towards Birdie. "Oh, but it is."

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Sam and Dean both exited Birdie's room after a few more moments, hoping to find a way to save her and Bobby. Birdie hadn't moved in the slightest during their visit, simply laying still in bed as she was completely unaware that what was currently going on inside her head wasn't real. And, if something wasn't done soon to save her and Bobby, both of their nightmares would get the best of them and they would die in her sleep.

"So, how do we find our homicidal sandman?" Dean wondered with a sigh, him and Sam walking down the hall of the hospital, hands tucked in their pockets. There weren't too many people in the hospital, a few doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors passing by every once in a while.

Sam scoffed under his breath, feeling uncertain as he wasn't quite sure how to help Birdie and Bobby. "Could be anyone."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Anyone who knew the doctor, had access to his dream shrooms."

"Maybe one of his test subjects or somethin'?" Sam suggested, casting a glance aside towards Dean.

"Possible, but his research was pretty sketchy," Dean replied with a shrug. "I mean. . .I don't know how many subjects he had, or who all of them were." Sam scoffed under his breath at a sudden thought and Dean looked over at him as they rounded a corner. "What?"

Sam loudly sighed. "In any other case, we'd be callin' Bobby and askin' him for help right now and Bird would come to make sure we didn't fuck it up somehow."

Dean suddenly slowed to a stop, an idea popping into his head at Sam's words. He lightly grabbed Sam's arm, causing him to stop as well. "You know what? You're right."

"What?"

"Let's go talk to them."

"Sure. I think we might find the conversations a bit one-sided."

"Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root," Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked in completed shock.

"You heard me," Dean firmly said.

Sam blinked, staring at his brother with disbelief etched on his face. "You wanna go dream-walking inside Bobby and Birdie's heads?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Dean nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe we could help."

"We have no idea what's crawlin' around in there——in either of their heads."

Dean made a face, seeing no problem with his idea. "Well, how bad could it be?"

"Bad."

"Dude, it's Bobby and Bird," Dean firmly said, tilting his head to the side.

Sam puffed out his cheeks, thinking for a moment; he didn't think Birdie or Bobby would have let it happen if they had a say in the matter, but it was the best idea the brothers had at the moment. "Yeah, you're right," he reluctantly agreed, breathing out a scoff. "One problem, though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some. . ."

"Fuck," Dean suddenly cursed, momentarily closing his eyes as he immediately thought of someone.

"What?" Sam wanted to know.

"Bela."

"Bela?" Sam repeated, facing falling; fuck was certainly right. He scoffed under his breath again, tilting his head towards Dean. "You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?"

"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah," Dean said, starting to walk again after a few seconds. Sam heavily sighed and followed suit, hating the idea of asking Bela for help.

But, it was for Bobby and Birdie; he could suck it up if he thought Bela could help save them.

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"I just can't thank you guys enough, though," Birdie gushed, smiling between Sam and Dean as she sat on the bed opposite of Sam with Dean right beside her. Bobby was already on his way back to Sioux Falls after Sam and Dean had saved him and Birdie in just the nick of time, claiming he needed to have a drink with Rumsfeld at his side. The other three had chuckled and waved him off as he left, deciding to stay there one more night before trying to find something else to hunt. They headed back into the room, Birdie sighed, leaning back some with her hands behind her and keeping her torso propped up. "I really thought I was a goner there."

Dean brightly smiled as he sat up on his elbows, nonchalantly shrugging when he caught Birdie's gaze. "Anything for our favorite damsel in distress, right?"

Birdie scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes as she lightly punched his arm when he completely sat up. "Fuck you, Dean," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Love ya, too, Bird," Dean loudly laughed, standing up and stretching out his arms. He let out a sigh and moved towards the couch off to the left of the bed, picking up his jacket where he'd tossed it when they returned to the room. "I don't know about you guys, but I could go for a beer. . .or five."

Birdie quietly chuckled under her breath, faintly shaking her head. "No, I'm okay for now," she told him, offering him a small smile. "I just wanna relax for a bit."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass, too," Sam said, his own smile never faltering.

Dean gave Sam a playful look but he rolled his eyes, waving his brother to head off on his own for the night. Dean chuckled under his breath and slipped his jacket on, heading towards the door with his wallet and phone in hand. "Suit yourselves," he airily said. "Hope you nerds don't bore each other to death."

"Don't worry, we won't," Birdie told him.

Dean looked at them one last time, nodding before leaving the motel room.

Birdie let out a content sigh once the door shut, turning her head to face Sam. Sam gave her a small smile, rubbing his hands together as he remained seated in front of her on the other bed. "You know, I'm not really that tired," Birdie softly said, tilting her head to the side.

"Really? You've had a pretty stressful last few days," Sam said, chuckling under his breath as he placed his arms on his legs.

Birdie lightly chuckled, slowly standing up before taking a few steps towards Sam with her head tilted to one side. "I know, but. . ."

Sam's eyes visibly widened as Birdie crept closer to him, biting her lip as she stood in front of him. "What-what're you doing?" Sam stammered.

Birdie shot him a cheeky smirk, bending down and sitting herself down on his lap. Sam stiffened, looking up at her with wide eyes. "If you want me to stop, tell me, okay?" she said, not wanting to overstep or do something Sam wasn't comfortable with. Sam hesitated to move his hands that were placed beside his legs, lips parted like he wanted to speak, but he wasn't sure what to say. "I don't wanna make you——"

"No, I uh," Sam stuttered, letting out a shaky breath as he moved his hands, gently placing them on Birdie's hips, "I want this."

Birdie's smile immediately widened. "Good. Me, too."

Without another word, Sam excitedly leaned forward, connecting their lips in a passionate kiss. Birdie's arms instantly wrapped around his neck, one hand sliding up to the back of his head as she scooted close so that their bodies tightly pressed together. Birdie softly moaned against his lips as Sam deepened the kiss, pulling away to look into Sam's eyes.

His chest rose and fell quickly, a smirk appearing on his lips as he stared at her. "God, I've wanted to do this forever," Birdie quietly confessed, giggling as she gently ran her fingers through Sam's hair. But before Sam could respond, Birdie pressed their lips back together.

Sam tightened his grip on her hips, a breathless moan escaping his lips when Birdie moved her hips against him. "Oh, fuck," he breathed out, looking up at her with lust blown eyes.

Birdie smirked and did it again, eyes shutting as Sam moved his lips to her neck. "Sam," she whispered, tightening her grip on his hair, making him grunt against her hot skin. She moved her hips faster, both of Sam's hands helping to guide her movements. "Fuck. . ."

"Holy shit, Bird," Sam moaned, moving his lips back to Birdie's, teeth clacking together as their bodies moved together. Sam brushed some hair out of her face, momentarily pulling away to look in her eyes. "You still sure?"

Birdie kissed him again, pulling away and resting her forehead against his. "Fuck yes."

Sam smirked and picked her up in his arms, lightly laughing when she let out a surprised shriek at the sudden movement. He laid her down on the bed, connecting their lips once again as he leaned over her. Birdie smiled into the kiss as Sam settled himself over her, trailing his lips down her neck.

Birdie let out a breathless moan, hands carding in his hair as he scooted further down her body. "Sam. . ." she whispered, biting her lips as she lifted her hips, helping him to tug her jeans down. She picked her head up and met his lustful gaze, giddily grinning before he continued. Holy shit——"

"Sam! Wake up."

Sam suddenly stirred awake at the desk in Bobby's room he was currently hunched over, a dazed smile lingering on his lips as his imagination ran rampant. Dean lazily sat in a chair near one of the beds, smugly looking over at Sam and holding some papers that he'd been reading through with a pen clutched in his right hand. Sam smiled a little more as his eyes fluttered open, suddenly realizing he'd only been dreaming.

His smile faltered and he slowly sat up with a rather glum expression, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He felt something wet touch his face as he did so, quickly looking down at his hand to see drool smeared across it. He deeply frowned, using his other hand to wipe the drool from his face.

Dean chuckled from behind Sam, watching his brother with amusement. "Dude, you were out. And makin' some serious happy noises. Who were you dreamin' about?"

"What? No one. Nothing," Sam hastily answered, glancing over his shoulder to partially look at Dean.

"C'mon, you can tell me," Dean pressed. "Angelina Jolie?"

"No."

"Brad Pitt?" Sam turned his head again, almost looking at him as he said no again. Dean cheekily smirked, having overheard some of what Sam had mumbled in his sleep. "It was Birdie, wasn't it?"

"Wha-n-no. . .No! Dude, it doesn't matter."

"Whatever."

Sam turned back to the desk, grumbling under his breath. "Whatever."

"I called Bela," Dean said, marking a note on one of the papers he was holding.

"What'd she say? She gonna help us?"

"Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one," Dean answered. "I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do." Sam shifted in the chair, letting out a sigh. "You gonna come help me with this stuff?"

Sam looked to the side, and then down to his lap. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair and looked back up, keeping his back facing Dean. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec."

He moved around a bit in his seat, stretching to try and relax some. Dean snickered and shook his head, turning his attention to the notes once again.

Suddenly a knock on the door sounded, capturing their attention. They both turned their heads, unsure who it could've been. Sam remained in the chair as Dean tucked away Dr. Greggs' notes and got up to open the door. He partially cracked it open, seeing who was standing there. An annoyed expression immediately appeared on his features at the sight of the person, but then he opened the door to allow them inside the room. "Bela, as I live and breathe."

Bela entered the motel room with a playful smirk, wearing a black trench coat and a smug expression on his face. "You called me. Remember?"

"I remember you turning me down," Dean retorted, suspiciously eyeing the shorter woman.

"Well, I'm just full of surprises," Bela playfully replied. Then she turned towards Sam who was still seated in the chair, trying to hide his predicament from Dean and Bela.

He lifted one hand, awkwardly waving over his shoulder, staying half-turned away from his brother and Bela. "Hey, Bela. What's goin' on?"

"I brought you your African Dream Root," Bela informed the brothers, handing a glass jar of it over to Dean. "Nasty stuff, and not easy to come by."

She put her bag on the TV stand behind her, opening up her jacket before folding her arms over her chest and facing Dean.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Dean curiously wondered.

"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"

"No. You can't," Dean firmly answered. "Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach 'em."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" Bela asked, standing in front of Dean.

Dean nodded. "Him and Birdie."

"Well, I'm doing it for him," Bela answered. "Not you, or Birdie."

"Bobby? Why?"

"He saved my life once. . .in Flagstaff." Dean threw a look in Sam's direction and Sam just shrugged; he hadn't heard anything about that, but that didn't mean it was a lie. Dean looked back at her, still not responding as if he was waiting for more of an explanation from the woman. "I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?"

"Maybe," Dean grumbled in response, glancing down at the jar full of African Dream Root.

Bela looked at Dean and then over at Sam, a smile working its way onto her glossy lips. "So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?"

"Oh, you're not goin' anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby or Birdie's heads," Dean sharply told her, heading towards the closet where a safe was to put the jar for the time being; it was the same place the Colt was safely stored so only he or Sam could get it since only they knew the combination. "No offense."

Bela and Sam watched him as he did so, the woman's eyes briefly flickering towards Sam. "None taken," she sharply said. Dean then closed the safe, quickly locking it. He walked away from the closet, seeing Bela was looking a bit annoyed for being denied; it seemed she really had been expecting them to allow her to join. "It's two am. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room," Dean shortly answered, slightly raising his brows. "Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it."

Bela swiftly snatched up her purse with a huff and walked towards the door, retrieving her coat on the way. Sam stole a glance towards Dean, raising his brows when Bela slammed the door on her way out of the room.

Dean puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head as he faced Sam. "You gonna sit there all night or are we gonna save Bobby and Bird?"

Sam carefully walked over to the beds with two glass cups full of a discolored liquid containing the Dream Root a few minutes later, no longer in his awkward predicament. Dean sat on the end of one of the beds, patiently waiting for his brother as he'd prepared the Dream Root for the two of them. As Sam finally reached him, he handed Dean one of the cups and then sat down on the other bed.

"Uh, should we dim the lights and sync up with Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon?" Dean asked, softly chuckling as he looked towards Sam.

Sam turned his head, a small smile on his lips as he breathed out a laugh. "Why?"

Dean's smile fell, staring at his little brother with disappointment. "What the hell did you do during college?" Sam frowned, shaking his head as his response.

Dean lifted the cup, going to drink it, but Sam quickly stopped him. "Wait, wait, wait," he quickly interjected, letting out a breath as he reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt. "Can't forget this."

Dean lowered his hand, looking over at Sam as he pulled out two small, yellow envelopes. "Here," He handed one to Dean, keeping the second one for himself.

Dean opened it up, reaching into it with his brows knitted together. "What the hell is that?"

"Bobby's hair," Sam answered, letting out a sigh as he pulled out the hair from the envelope he held. "And Birdie's."

"We have to drink their hair?" Dean asked, appearing rather disgusted at the mere idea.

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Sam explained. "You gotta. . .drink some of their uh. . .some of their body."

"Who'd you give me?" Dean wanted to know, eyeing the hair in his hand.

Sam stammered, slightly shrugging. "Uh, Bobby's, I think."

"Why do you get Bird's?" Dean queried, skeptically eyeing his brother as a playful grin worked its way onto his lips. "Wanna see if she's having the same kind dreams about you as you are about her?"

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes. "That's not-I wasn't——"

"Don't strain yourself there, Sammy," Dean snickered, shaking his head. Sam narrowed his eyes, seeing Dean questionably glanced down at the cup. "Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body."

Sam rolled his eyes, both him and Dean dropping the hair into their drinks simultaneously. Sam let out a shaky breath a few seconds later, gazing down at the discolored liquid.

Dean turned towards Sam once again, holding the drink out towards him. "Bottoms up."

"Yeah."

They clinked their cups together in a toast, drinking every last drop of the Dream Root. They both grunted, trying to swallow the distasteful liquid as it crawled down their throats. They smacked their lips together a bit due to the awful taste, looking quite disgusted while nothing seemed to have changed.

Sam glanced to the left, brows furrowed together as he sat in the same motel room. "Why isn't it working?" he asked, but Dean didn't reply. Sam frowned, turning his head to where Dean had just been seated, but he wasn't there anymore. Sam's eyes slightly widened, standing up as his eyes quickly examined the room for any sign of his older brother. "Dean?"

Thunder suddenly rumbled outside, light rain beginning to patter against the window. Sam looked over at the sound, not remembering it raining before. "When did it start raining?" he wondered aloud to himself. He slowly headed over to the window, peering outside with his lips parted in confusion. "And when did it start raining upside down?"

He turned away from the window, realizing that the entire room had suddenly changed from the cheap motel room and he was now standing in an unfamiliar house. He took a few steps away from the window, suspiciously peering around the house.

It appeared he stood in what looked like a normal living room, two leather couches and a matching recliner circling a round coffee table. Some mugs were placed near the edge, a stack of People magazines sitting in the middle where they were easy to reach. A smoldering fireplace was behind it, a flat-screen TV hung above it, playing what Sam realized was the cartoon series Scooby-Doo Where Are You!——one of Birdie's all-time favorite cartoons growing up.

Sam let out a shaky breath, hoping for some sign of Birdie, or Bobby; he felt like he was in Birdie's head, but he wasn't entirely certain of whose hair he'd actually given himself. "Birdie?" he called out, walking down a hall that appeared to lead into a yellow-themed kitchen.

"Bobby?" he tried next just to see, but there was still no response from Birdie or Bobby.

He pursed his lips and continued towards the kitchen, his bright eyes glancing over pictures that were hung up on the wall, some slightly crooked. Most of them were just sceneries from all over the globe, but as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widened when seeing some blood smeared on the counter. A bloodied knife was near the edge, still wet with the crimson liquid, drops of it dripping onto the floor. Multiple drawers and cabinets were strewn open, pots and pans fallen out on the floor like they'd been toppled over during some kind of commotion. A steak knife was embedded in the floor, at least a dozen forks, spoons, and knives were spread across the floor, blood smeared across them.

Sam let out a shaky breath, turning his head. "Birdie?"

"Please, stop!"

Sam's head snapped towards the ceiling, having heard the fearful scream come from the second floor. He hurried back down the hall without a second thought, clambering up the stairs with hopes of finding Birdie. He rounded a dimly lit corner, taking in the dark red wallpaper that covered the walls, more smeared blood along the walls, making his steps fasten as he raced towards a pounding sound. He raced into another hallway, gasping when he spotted a blood-drenched Birdie holding a door handle to a separate room, doing her best to keep it from opening as someone or something screamed from the other side, banging against the wooden door with full force.

"Birdie!" Sam shouted.

Birdie's head snapped to the side at the sound of her name, brows furrowing together in confusion as she spotted Sam standing at the end of the hall. "Sammy?"

But, before he could respond, the door that Birdie had been holding shut suddenly opened, causing a shriek to escape Birdie's lips as she was yanked inside by a blood-covered hand.

"Birdie!" Sam hollered, racing down the hall after the woman.

Birdie grunted as she staggered into the bedroom, shouting as she swung her fist towards the figure who'd grabbed her. "You fucking bitch!" the figure hatefully shouted at Birdie, lunging for her again. Birdie just barely dodged another blow, countering it by ducking under their arm and then kicking her leg out to knock them back.

Sam halted when he saw Serena Fowler tumble out of the room, bruises and blood decorating her pale skin. He gaped at the very sight of the woman, head snapping towards the side to see into the room.

Birdie hastily rushed out, grabbing Sam's hand as Serena started to pick herself up off the floor with no sign of letting up. "Sam, c'mon!" Birdie frantically urged, tugging him down the hall as her heart frantically pounded in her chest. Sam ran along next to her with utter confusion, hearing Serena's heavy footsteps echoing behind them as she shouted insult after insult at Birdie like she'd been doing almost since the start of Birdie's nightmare.

Birdie tried opening a door as they turned a corner, but it was locked. "For fuck sake!"

Sam tried the one on the other side, forcefully pushing it open. "Bird, come on!" He said, grabbing her arm and tugging her into the room just as Serena's eyes fell on them again. He slammed the door shut behind him, desperately looking for something to put in front of it in order to keep Serena from getting inside. He saw a hope chest near the dusty TV stand to the right of him, going to one side of it to push it in front of the door. Birdie let out a pant as she realized Sam was really there, going over to help him.

Serena banged her hands against the door moments later, shouting for them to let her in just as they got the chest in front of the door; it wouldn't hold forever, but it'd give Sam enough time to talk to Birdie and make her realize that none of that was actually happening.

Sam grunted and stepped away from the door, finally getting a good look at Birdie. He took in her distraught appearance, seeing she was slightly shaking. Her hair was tangly with some blood dried at the ends. There was a nasty cut across her forehead, blood smeared around it. A dark bruise was painfully obvious along her jawline, only getting worse as the minutes slowly passed. More cuts and bruises littered her arms, some holes in her shirt like someone——Serena, most likely——had managed to cut her a few more times. "Hey, hey, Bird——"

"What-what the hell're you doin' here, Sam?" Birdie asked, staring at him with shock. "How'd-how'd you find me?"

"Bobby, uh, you guys were working a case——"

"What? I-I haven't talked to Bobby in days," Birdie interjected, brows furrowed together at his statement. "Or you and Dean."

Sam's expression completely changed, intensely looking towards Birdie. Did she not know that wasn't real? "Birdie, you know that this——none of this is real."

Birdie scoffed, giving him a sharp glare. "I think I can tell the difference between reality and my imagination, Sam."

"This isn't real, Birdie," Sam told her, sucking in a deep breath. "Your mom——she's not really here."

Serena harshly banged her fists on the door again, shouting at the top of her lungs. "You're a fucking bitch, Birdie!" Sam's eyes instantly darted to Birdie, his heart breaking when he saw her flinch at the cruelty of her mother's words. "Open this goddamn door right now!"

"Sam, she's here," Birdie softly said, a deep frown tugged on her lips as she met his gaze again. "Do you see what she did?" Sam heavily sighed, looking at the blood staining Birdie's skin. Before he could respond, Birdie closed her eyes, turning to the side so she was no longer facing him. "That's not even the worst part. She. . .just see for yourself."

Sam's frown deepened as he tilted his head, watching Birdie point to the other side of the room. His eyes followed, face falling when seeing a blanket tossed over what looked like a body on a full-sized bed. He stole a puzzled glance towards Birdie, noticing her close her eyes as if trying to avoid his gaze. He twisted his lips in thought, slowly making his way over to the bed. He pulled the blanket back, letting out a sigh when seeing a girl no older than eighteen laid there. Her eyes were still wide open with a clean slice in her neck with dried blood covering almost her entire neck where it had bled and bled. "Who. . .who is it?"

"Nancy Lantz," Birdie murmured in response, fidgeting with her fingers, peering down at the dark blood that coated them. "We, uh, I was on a case with my Dad, and while-while we killed the monsters. . .one of-one of the victims we saved, she just. . .she couldn't wrap her head around what happened or-or accept vampires are real——said it was our fault and we did it. She. . .threatened to tell the police, describe us, all that good stuff, but. . .I mean, we were gonna be gone in a day anyways so were just gonna leave, let the police handle it. But, my Mom. . .she-she couldn't let that happen."

"So she. . .she killed her. . .so-so that she wouldn't mention you or your Dad?" Sam softly asked, horror etched on his face. He always knew Serena was more cruel than most and had rather questionable hunting methods that most people wouldn't have even considered using, but he never would have pictured her as someone who would murder a young girl when they most likely would never see her again.

"She waited until night and had Dad go get us some food. . .and as soon as he was gone, she made me tell her where the girl lived. I tried to talk her out of it, convince her we'd be fine, but I couldn't and. . .it's all my fault, Sam. I did this to her."

"No, Bird, that's-that is not your fault," Sam firmly said, making his way over to her with concern etched in his voice.

Birdie partially turned towards him, tears welling up in her eyes as she softly stared back. "I should've just kept telling her no no matter how many times she hi——" Birdie's lips suddenly smacked shut, realizing what she was about to say to Sam.

Sam felt his heart immediately clench while his lips parted in surprise, not needing Birdie to finish in order to know what she was going to say next. He briefly glanced down at the dusty floorboards, hundreds of memories flashing in his mind as he tried to see how he could have missed that. How did he not realize over the years? All the bruises, odd excuses——how did he not see what Birdie was facing at the hands of her own mother?

"None of that was your fault, Birdie," Sam softly told her, locking eyes with the shorter woman. He took a few steps closer, gazing down at Birdie as her frown only deepened like she still didn't believe him. "All of this is on Serena, not you, Bird. She's the one who made that choice and had to live with it, but you don't have to. You didn't deserve any of what she put you through."

"But——"

"No, no, Birdie, don't," Sam interrupted, shaking his head side to side as he spoke over Birdie so she would actually hear what he was trying to tell her. "It wasn't your fault. And what's going on right now——this isn't real. You need to wake up."

"It's not——"

The sound of wood splintering apart interrupted them, causing them both to flinch at the sudden noise. Birdie's eyes widened, feeling her heart race as the door was busted through along with the hope chest. She backed up and Sam reached over, pulling her behind him. But, much to Birdie and Sam's surprise, it wasn't a murderous Serena who came through the busted up furniture, but Dr. Gregg's research subject Bobby, Birdie, and Dean, had all met for the case, Jeremy Frost, holding a bat with a rather annoyed expression on his face.

His enraged eyes snapped to Birdie, hatefully glaring towards the curly-haired woman. But, suddenly Birdie disappeared just as she went to speak, a gasp escaping her lips as she found herself standing in the basement of the house. Her eyes frantically glanced around, searching for any sign of Sam, but he was nowhere to be seen. However, what she did find was someone standing at the very top of the staircase with a knife tightly clutched in their hand.

Birdie nervously gulped, instinctively taking a step back. "Mom. . ."

"Hey, little Bird," Serena said, taking a daunting step down the stairs. "Time to clip those wings of yours."

Sam sharply narrowed his eyes at the man when he went to speak, but Jeremy swung the bat, hitting Sam hard in the chest and shoulder. Sam collapsed to the ground from the blow with a pained grunt, cradling his shoulder as Jeremy stood over him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Sam demanded to know.

"Who are you?" Jeremy retorted, the bat tucked under his arm as he stared down at Sam with unfamiliarity. "You don't belong here."

"You're one to talk. You're in my friend's head."

"Well, you got a poor choice in friends," Jeremy said. "This is self-defense. They came after me. T-They wanted to hurt me."

"That may be because you're a killer."

"You should be nicer to me," Jeremy cautioned Sam. "In here. . .you're just an insect. I'm a god."

Birdie sucked in a deep breath as Serena slowly descended down the staircase, hearing each step creak. She felt her body tense, blood running cold as Serena stepped down the last one. The lightbulb off to the side illuminated Serena's face, showing the wicked smile on her lip with her eyes appearing almost black while they blankly stared back at Birdie.

"What? You're not gonna run this time?" Serena taunted.

"I've learned plenty from you over the years," Birdie huffed, glaring at her mother. "There's no point in running anymore."

Serena's smile widened, taking a few steps closer to her daughter. She held the knife up in the dim light, making sure Birdie saw how sharp it still was. "You know, you're just as worthless now as you were when you were younger," she sneered. "You'll never be a good hunter."

Birdie twisted her lips as she backed away, hearing Sam's words echo in the back of her mind. This isn't real. . .this isn't real. . .

Was she really dreaming?

"I should've killed you and your father years ago."

Birdie's eyes snapped back to her mother, brows furrowed together. "You're not real," she said.

"Oh, I'm very real," Serena said, holding up the knife.

Birdie narrowed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath as she bumped into a table. She glanced to the side, seeing a saw sitting on the edge of it. This isn't real. "No, you're not," Birdie snapped, fully facing her mother. She stood up straight, taking a step closer to the woman instead of going for a weapon. Serena raised her brows in surprise, not expecting Birdie to stand up to her; not without a weapon in hand, anyways. "You are a shit person, Mom. You-you were never there for me, never there for Dad. . .for fuck's sake, you're not even here now!"

Serena's wicked smile faltered at Birdie's words, staggering back as her hand fell to her side. The knife clattered to the floor as her body stilled, making Birdie cautiously back up.

Birdie let out a shaky breath, realization dawning on her. "Holy fuck," she whispered to herself, memories of working the case with Bobby coming back to her and flooding into her mind. "I am only dreaming."

Sam was still splayed on the wooden floor on the second floor, Jeremy towering over him with a hateful expression.

"Sweet dreams." Jeremy raised the bat and started to swing it down towards Sam with no intention of letting him walk away. Sam quickly raised his arm to shield his face, clenching his eyes shut as he prepared to be hit.

Birdie suddenly woke up, sitting up in her hospital bed with her eyes wide open and chest rapidly rising and falling, gasps escaping from her parted lips.

Sam woke up at the same exact time as Birdie did, sitting up on the motel bed, heavily panting as he saw Dean standing off to the side of him. A look of relief washed over Dean's features as Sam finally woke up not long after Dean did. They shared a silent look with one another, simultaneously hopping up from the beds to go and check on Bobby and Birdie at the hospital.

Birdie slowly blinked as she peered around the plain, white room, noticing the needles stuck in her arms. She loudly groaned and rolled her eyes, laying back down on the bed with her eyes closed. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me," she grumbled in disbelief.

She opened her eyes after a few seconds, looking towards the door when she saw a taller figure enter the room. Her eyes locked with a doctor's, brows shooting up when he jumped as his eyes fell on her sitting upright in the bed. "Oh my g——you're-you're awake," he said in utter disbelief. He tucked the clipboard he'd been holding under his arm, stepping up to the side of the bed with a small smile on his lips. "How-do you know where you're at?"

"Hell," Birdie answered under her breath. The doctor's eyebrows furrowed together, having overheard her response. She cleared her throat, giving him a faint smile. "I'm in a hospital."

"And the date?" He asked.

Birdie twisted her lips, thinking for a moment. She wasn't exactly sure how long she'd been out for, but she hoped it hadn't been for more than a few days. "I, uh, I don't know the exact date. . .but it's 2008."

"Okay," the doctor said, making a quick note on the clipboard. Birdie narrowed her eyes as he did so, catching his gaze. "What about your name? Do you remember that?"

"I-I'm fine, okay? I know my name, I know the month and year. . .I'm perfectly healthy," Birdie heavily sighed, looking at the doctor with pure exhaustion.

The doctor faintly nodded, tucking the board under his arm again. "I'm sure you are, Mrs. Snyderson."

Birdie made a face at the name he called her but didn't comment on it, figuring that Bobby or someone had given them a false name for her to avoid giving away her real identity. "Good," Birdie then said, motioning towards the needles. "Then can these be taken out?"

The doctor breathed out a chuckle, offering Birdie a sad smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea at this time. We still want you to stay a few more nights to continue monitoring for any——"

"Can't you just leave the stick on things on me then and take these out?"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't quite work like that," the doctor apologized.

Birdie huffed in annoyance and slouched against the pillows tucked behind her, shaking her head in annoyance. "Well, what can I do then? Can I eat at least?"

The doctor nodded, his smile remaining on his lips. "Of course. I'll see if one of the nurses can——"

"Wait," Birdie quickly interjected, eyes locking with the doctor's, "The, uh, my. . .my——"

"Your husband and brother-in-law?" the doctor offered, brows raised. Birdie fought the urge to roll her eyes, plastering a fake smile on her lips while nodding. "They've been here many times to see you and your father-in-law. Actually, I'm sure they'll be here in just a few minutes."

Birdie softly smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Yeah, they're very persistent. I, uh, they didn't happen to bring my phone, did they?"

"They did," the doctor answered with a smile. He moved to the tray table off in the corner, picking up Birdie's phone to give to her.

She gave him a tiny smile as he handed it to her. "Thanks."

"I believe for lunch——"

"Actually, I think I'm gonna wait on that if that's okay," she said, opening up her phone.

The doctor nodded, readjusting the clipboard back under his arm. "Sure. I'll have a nurse come in soon to check your vitals, alright?"

"Okay," Birdie sighed.

The doctor gave her one last smile, heading out of the room to check on another patient. Birdie puffed out her cheeks and went straight to her contacts, noticing that she had ten missed calls from Dean and fifteen from Sam. She had nearly as many text messages as she did calls, but she ignored them, a smile appearing on her lips as she sent Sam a quick text.

Hey, Sammy! Wanna bring your favorite damsel in distress some food? <3

Not even five seconds later did her phone begin to ring, Sam's name popping up as he began to call her just seconds after seeing her text message. Birdie's smile widened, leaning back against the pillows as she answered.

"Hey, Sam."

"Birdie? Hey, you alright?" he quickly asked, Dean's voice mixing in the background, but she couldn't make out what he was saying as Sam grumbled under his breath. "Stop it!"

"Uh, I think so," Birdie sighed, fingers fiddling with a loose string that was dangling from part of the blanket. "Did you guys have something to do with that?"

"Give me the fuckin' phone!"

"She texted me, not you, Dean!"

"Yeah, 'cause I do all the driving and she doesn't want me texting and drivin' like some dickhead——"

"How about we just wait till you two get here?" Birdie asked, chuckling to herself as she heard the brothers continue to bicker. It warmed her heart that they were fighting over who got to talk to her on the phone.

"What about the food——"

"As long as it's greasy and comes with a side of fries, I'll take it. Oh, but wait, which one of you is apparently my husband?"

"That'd be Sammy, Bird!" Dean shouted, loudly laughing in the background. "It was all his idea, too!"

"Dean——"

Birdie just shook her head and hung up, reaching over towards the table off to the side to grab the TV remote. She flicked it on, letting out a sigh as she started to flick through the channels.

It didn't take too long for the boys to arrive to the hospital again, both smiling in relief as they saw Birdie sat up on the bed, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls to try and pass the time by. Her doctor wouldn't let her leave the room to check on Bobby, but he assured her that he was awake as well and doing just fine; and not without confessing it was strange how they both woke up within minutes of each other and were perfectly fine.

Birdie's eyes landed on the Bigerson's bag clutched in Dean's hand, automatically smiling as he and Sam came into the room with warm smiles. "Hey boys," Birdie softly greeted them, folding her arms over her chest with a playful tone in her voice. "I think you're just in time to see Dean get in a fight with Chad Michael Murray——"

Dean reached up towards the TV, clicking it off with a huff. Birdie gaped, gawking at the older man. "No, no, no Gilmore Girls," he said.

"But I swear the Dean in the show looks just like Sam——"

"What? No, he doesn't," Sam quickly denied, breathing a forced laugh as he faced the younger woman.

Birdie scoffed, narrowing her eyes at Sam. "What? He could be your damn twin——"

"Here," Dean interrupted, placing the food on her lap.

Birdie instantly looked up at him, giving him a cheeky smile. "Thank you, Dean."

He nodded and sat in the chair by the bed, Sam standing on the other side with his eyes flickering between Dean and Birdie. "How do you feel?" Sam asked, watching Birdie pull out a few fries. "Do you. . .do you remember anything?"

"I feel fine," she answered with a shrug, swallowing the fries. "And I, uh, I remember bits and pieces, ya know."

"Like what?"

"Nothing very interesting. I remember seeing that asshole near the end, though, uh, Jeremy——Jeremy Frost," she said, stealing a glance towards Sam. "Do you-do you remember what you saw in my head?"

"Uh——"

"I'm sure he does if you were having the same kind of dreams about h——"

"Dean."

Birdie's eyes swiveled from Dean and over to Sam, suspiciously looking between the Winchesters. Dean snickered as Sam huffed, shaking his head as he sent another glare in Dean's direction. He just shrugged, snatching a few more of Birdie's fries as she tried swatting his hand away. "Listen, I'm gonna go and see if I can find, uh, Jeremy at his place," Sam said. "Dean——" Birdie saw Sam nudge his head towards the door, signaling that he wanted to talk to him in the hallway. Birdie sighed but didn't question it, simply letting it go so she could eat her food, and hopefully so what actually what went on her wouldn't be talked about.

So, Birdie just munched on the food, giving Sam a wave as he bid her goodbye. Dean waited behind, keeping her company as she ate her food. When Dean asked Birdie what she saw in her head, she'd easily lied and said she was chased by werewolves, and it seemed Dean bought it for the most part. She had no desire to talk about what she really had to face for what felt like an eternity——not when Jeremy was still out there and hurting who knew how many people; that was what she wanted to focus on for the time being, not herself. And, before she knew it, she was done eating and the doctor returned and Dean took that as a cue to go see Bobby.

The checkup didn't take long, all of her tests coming back negative——which was a good thing. They still wanted to keep her for an extra night just as a precaution in case there were any sudden changes, but Birdie already knew that wouldn't work out. And thankfully, before her mind tried wandering back to her nightmare, Sam finally returned, going to visit her first since her room was on the way to Bobby's.

He did his best to get her to stay in the bed so she wouldn't make the doctor more worried than he already was, but she was keen on seeing Bobby, and nothing was going to stop her.

"I'm perfectly fine, Sam. I could even go run a marathon if I wanted."

Sam heavily sighed, walking beside Birdie while an amused smile started to work its way onto his lips. Birdie was still hooked to an IV as she wheeled the wobbly stand with her; only due to Sam suggesting that her doctor be more likely to release her if she didn't try to remove it herself——like Serena had taught her how to properly do——after he denied removing them once again. She still wore one of the flimsy hospital gowns that stopped just below her knees, but Sam's jacket was now draped over her shoulders as she'd said she was cold and reluctantly accepted it when he offered it to her. Neither of them had yet to mention what exactly went on inside of Birdie's head still, but she knew it was coming sooner rather than later.

The two of them reached Bobby's in less than a minute, Bobby and Dean doing a double-take when they saw Birdie enter after Sam.

"What the hell are you doin' out of bed?" Bobby curiously asked Birdie.

"I tried my best," Sam said, innocently raising his hands as he quietly laughed.

Birdie merely scoffed, giving him a playful glare. "What're you gonna do? Ground me?"

Bobby huffed at her snide response, faintly shaking his head. Dean softly smiled, not missing the fact that she was wearing Sam's jacket. "So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm," Sam said, rubbing his hands together before tucking them in the pockets of his jeans. Birdie walked around Bobby's bed, taking a seat on the spare bed that Dean was seated on. "My guess is he's long gone by now."

"He ain't much of a stoner," Bobby replied, picking up a picture of Jeremy that was on the tray along with news clippings he and Dean had been skimming through, some still in Birdie's room.

"No?" Dean asked.

"No. His name's Jeremy Frost——full-on genius——hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' some, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head." Dean slightly nodded, tugging up his lips somewhat. Bobby picked up another piece of paper——a copy of Jeremy's father, Henry Frost, driver's license, and handed it to Sam. "Here's Father of the Year. He died before Jeremy was 10."

"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam said.

Birdie let out a tired sigh. "The head injury gave Jeremy Charcot-Wilbrand, and. . .he hasn't dreamt since." Sam placed the paper back on the table, stealing a thoughtful glance at Birdie, but she didn't catch his gaze.

"Till he started dosing the dream drug," Dean said, brows knitted together.

"Yep," Bobby said.

"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?" At those words, Birdie's eyes involuntarily flickered to Sam. He met her gaze almost like he was already thinking about her, but she quickly looked away.

"Hey, he was rootin' around in our skulls. God knows what he saw in either of 'em." Birdie twisted her lips in thought, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, how'd he get in there in the first place?" Sam asked, glancing towards Bobby. "Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA, or somethin'?"

"Yeah," Dean said in agreement, looking from Bobby and over to Birdie who had her elbows propped up on her knees, head lazily resting on one of her hands.

Birdie let out a heavy sigh, looking from one brother to the other. "Before we knew it was him, he offered us some beer. Bobby drank it, and I, uh, I had a water."

"A water?" Dean gaped towards Birdie.

She narrowed her eyes, huffing under her breath. "Yes, a water."

Bobby huffed as well, shaking his head that he and Birdie had been so careless on a case. "Dumbest fuckin' thing."

"Oh, I don't know. It wasn't that dumb," Dean commented, nervously laughing as if there was something he was leaving something left unsaid.

Sam, Birdie, and Bobby questionably looked in his direction, the same realization crossing their minds as Dean sheepishly smiled.

"Dean, you didn't," Sam said.

"I-I was thirsty."

Anger sparked on Sam's features, throwing his hands out at his sides. "That's great! Now he can come after any one of you."

"Well, now we just have to find him first."

"We better work fast. . .and coffee up," Bobby firmly told them. "Because the one thing we cannot do is fall asleep."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

TWO DAYS LATER

Dean was seated behind the wheel of the impala, Sam sitting next to him while Birdie was slouched in the middle of the backseat, her entire body buzzing from drinking coffee day and night, but her eyes still wanted to close; though, she refused to give in and fall sleep——not after what she had to go through the last time she allowed herself to close her eyes. Dean was clearly pissed over the whole situation and that it was taking them so long to find Jeremy, all of them having to remain awake so they could find Jeremy as fast as possible.

"I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a fuckin' ghost. Where the fuck could he be?"

"Dean, you sure you don't want me to drive? You-you seem a little. . ." Sam started, briefly pausing when Dean glanced over at him with a dark look lingering in his eyes as if he was ready to explode at any second, ". . .caffeinated."

"Well, thanks for the news flash, Edison!" Dean angrily snapped.

Birdie made a face at the snippy tone in the Winchester's voice, faintly shaking her head as she took a small sip of her coffee she'd poured into a thermos before they left the motel. Bobby and Bela were still there, trying to find other leads for where Jeremy could've been as Bela used some of the artifacts she'd collected over the years; Birdie still wasn't fond of Bela helping, but with there being two days of nothing, she didn't mind it much at the moment. They were all seemingly growing more agitated as they continued to head dead ends——Dean especially. Birdie didn't exactly blame him for being so pissed from their lack of success, but taking his frustrations out on Sam wasn't going to be much help with locating Jeremy.

Dean's phone started to ring after a couple of seconds, causing him to reach for it. He fumbled for it, muttering multiple curse words in frustration as it kept moving around in his pocket and slipping from his grasp just before he could grab it. He finally grabbed a hold of it, eagerly flipping it open with hopes that Bobby finally found something useful. "Tell me you got something!"

"Strip club was a bust, huh?" Birdie heard Bobby ask from the other end, causing her to chuckle under her breath as she shifted in her seat.

"Yeah," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes with a huff. Birdie sat up and tiredly ran a hand through her curls, leaning forward to rest her chin on the front seat so she could hear Bobby better.

"That was our last lead."

"What the hell, Bobby?!"

"Don't fuckin' yell at me, boy. I'm workin' my ass off here."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just. . .I'm-I'm-I'm tired," Dean apologized, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel so he wasn't gripping it so tight. Birdie stole a glance towards Sam, giving him a tired smile. He returned it, letting out a sigh as his gaze flickered back in Dean's direction.

"Well, who ain't?"

"What's Bela got?"

"What do you got, Bela?" Dean was silent for a few seconds as he listened, Bela's voice just barely distinguishable in the background, but neither Dean nor Birdie could tell what she was saying. "She's got nothin'."

"Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now!" Dean hung up the phone in frustration, throwing it in his lap. Birdie blinked at the outburst, scooting a little closer to Sam to avoid possibly adding to Dean's annoyance somehow. Then he hit the steering wheel with his hand, angrily grunting as he did so.

Birdie shared a wearisome look with Sam when he turned his head, letting out a heavy sigh as her gaze shifted to the window to the left of her. She'd yet to talk to Sam about what had all happened in her nightmare, but she could tell he wanted to ask her about it but wasn't quite sure how to approach the topic. It wasn't exactly something he could naturally bring up in a conversation, the mere topic of Serena being one of Birdie's least favorite things to talk about no matter the circumstances. Sam could tell it was affecting Birdie still, though, and he had a feeling that Birdie was well aware that he knew that, too. However, with all that was going on and the looming threat of Jeremy attacking anyone else, it was best to wait for the right moment——or at least a better moment since there never seemed to be a right moment in their lives.

Birdie adjusted her jacket as Dean drove further down the road, but then he suddenly turned the car onto a side road instead of continuing on in the direction of the motel where they were formerly headed. Birdie frowned at his actions but didn't say anything, casting a wary glance towards Sam. He seemed just as puzzled as Birdie, glancing around the woods with confusion. When they reached a small clearing in the woods, Dean parked the car and shut off the engine without uttering a single word to Sam or Birdie.

"All right, that's it. I'm done," Dean firmly stated, shifting in the driver's seat like he was trying to get comfortable.

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded to know, staring at Dean as he laid back in the seat, head resting on the back of the seat as if he was preparing to go to sleep. Birdie turned in the seat, facing the man with her brows furrowed together.

"Takin' myself a long-overdue nap."

"What?!" Sam snapped, his and Birdie's eyes growing wide simultaneously. "Dean, Jeremy can come after you."

"That's the idea."

Birdie scoffed. "You're fucking kidding me," she said, sending daggers towards Dean.

"Come on, guys, we can't find him, so let him come to me."

"On his own turf——where he's basically a god?" Sam harshly retorted, his narrowed eyes pinned to Dean.

"I can handle it."

"Not alone you can't." Sam swiftly reached over, pulling out some of Dean's hair.

"Ow!" Dean winced. He lifted his head, touching his head where Sam grabbed some hair, eyes glaring into his little brother. "What the fuck're you doin'?"

"Comin' in with you."

"No, you're not," Dean snapped, sharply turning his head towards Birdie when seeing she'd gotten rather close to him. "And neither are you. He's already gotten you once."

"Oh, come on," Birdie groaned, giving him a pleading look with her arm thrown out to her side and head lazily tilted to one side.

"Why not?" Sam asked. "At least with me it'll be two against one."

"Three against one," Birdie pointedly corrected, swiftly reaching over while Dean thought of a response and pulling out some of his hair.

He groaned, shooting her a glare. "I don't want either of you diggin' around in my head."

"Too fuckin' bad."

Dean scoffed under his breath in annoyance, glancing back at Birdie. She gave him a faint smile as Sam quickly climbed out of the car, going to grab the Dream Root that was safely stored inside the trunk. "Fine, but we're goin' in your head next," Dean said.

Birdie's smile faltered slightly, but she playfully rolled her eyes, patting his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Not a chance in hell," she told him.

Sam returned to the front seat a few moments later, both him and Dean weary about allowing Birdie to join them since Jeremy had already tried to kill her once and would most likely try again if she fell asleep. Birdie brushed off their concern, giving them both a grin as if trying to reassure them. "I'll know what to expect this time. And, I won't be alone either."

"Yeah, but——"

"I don't want anyone else to have to go through the same thing I did," she softly interjected, gaze pinned to Sam like she was more focused on convincing him than Dean.

Dean stole a silent glance towards Sam, noticing the way his expression softened at Birdie's words. His gaze returned to the younger woman a few seconds later, brows furrowed together. Birdie tilted her head, twisting her lips as looked between the brothers.

Sam let out a heavy sigh, a small smile appearing on his lips. "You just wanna see inside Dean's head, don't you?"

Birdie's frown turned into a grin, relieved that he didn't mention what had gone inside her own head as a reason for her to stay behind.

Dean's lips parted, gaping between Sam and Birdie. Then his eyes paused on Sam, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe she should go inside your head instead," he quipped, raising his brows. "I'm sure she'd like to see what kind of dreams you're havin' lately."

Sam's face faltered at Dean's remark, clenching his jaw as he glared towards Dean. Birdie's brows scrunched together in confusion, cocking one when she spotted the smug expression on Dean's face. "Should I even ask or——"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Birdie closed her eyes and shook her head, holding her out. "I'll just take that as a maybe. But, for now, I think we should focus on getting inside Dean's head."

Dean didn't look very pleased but relaxed in his seat once more, giving Sam and Birdie the impression that it was time.

Birdie let out a shaky breath as she watched Sam open the jar with the African Dream Root, mentally preparing herself in case Jeremy decided to show himself once again. She didn't want to face her mother again, but risking it in order to stop Jeremy was worth it.

All three of them were fast asleep once Sam and Birdie took the African Dream Root fell asleep alongside Dean. Sam and Dean had their heads leaning on the doors of the Impala while Birdie laid in the back seat, some hair falling over her face with a hand tucked under her head. It was still dark out, the trees standing tall with the leaves rustling together when a gust of wind blew past.

Sam was the first one to wake up, clearing his throat as he opened his eyes. "Dean," Sam said, hitting Dean on his arm to wake him. Dean's head abruptly shot up, still looking exhausted and annoyed from the lack of sleep.

"For the love of God," Dean harshly grumbled.

Sam twisted his body and reached behind them, gently shaking Birdie's shoulders. Her eyes snapped open at the feeling of someone touching her, going to whack Sam until she realized it was him. "Oh, god, sorry. . ."

"No, it's-it's okay," he told her, figuring that the entire situation was probably unsettling for her after the last thing she'd faced when she was asleep.

Dean groggily peered out of the windows, realizing that they were in the same spot as before. "What are we still doing here?"

"I have no idea," Sam answered, Birdie shuffling in the backseat so she was sitting up and situated in the middle seat. Outside in the woods, there was the sound of branches snapping as if someone was walking on them, capturing their attention. "There's someone out there."

They carefully got out of the car, looking around the woods for any sign of Jeremy. As they walked towards the front of the car, gentle music could suddenly be heard as they stepped forward.

Dean looked behind him and when he faced forward again, a corner of the clearing lit up. There sat Lisa Braeden——the woman Birdie had only heard about a few times when Dean finally talked about her in order to get Birdie to stop prying, but even then he hadn't given her much detail——on a red and white checkered blanket with a picnic basket placed beside her. Dean slowed to a stop, staring at her as she warmly smiled up at him.

Birdie stole a glance over at Sam, eyes slightly widened. "Is that. . .Lisa?"

Sam slowly nodded, just as surprised as Birdie to see Lisa there. "Yeah."

"Hey. You gonna sit down?" Lisa asked, slightly tilting her head at Dean as if Sam or Birdie weren't even there. Dean still didn't move a muscle, simply staring at Lisa. She held a glass of red wine in her hand, reaching for another glass that was placed in the basket and already had some wine poured in. "Come on. We only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball." She held the glass out for him to take, giving him another smile.

Sam and Birdie stood a bit behind Dean, taking it all in as Dean just looked at Lisa.

Dean briefly glanced over his shoulder towards them; no doubt they were wondering if that was a dream he'd had before. "I've never had this dream before." Birdie faintly shook her head, a coy smile appearing on her lips. She and Sam shared a look as they silently moved closer to Dean, glancing over at the older man. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry," Sam softly said. Birdie simply shook her head in response, eyes flickering back towards Lisa.

"Dean, I love you." Lisa grinned, but suddenly the entire scene flickered like a ghost and Lisa, the picnic, the lights and the music disappeared simultaneously. Dean looked around at where Lisa had just been while Sam and Birdie looked off to the side in confusion.

"Where'd she go?"

Birdie curiously gazed out into the woods, suddenly spotting a discreet Jeremy coming out from behind a tree. "Dean, Sam," she softly said, causing them to turn their attention to her.

Birdie instantly took after Jeremy with her fists tightly clenched, seeing him run off in the opposite direction of the three hunters. Dean and Sam quickly followed the woman, running into the darkened woods.

Dean lost track of Sam and Birdie along the way, but he kept running in the same direction in hopes of catching up with them. But, after a few more steps, he halted, turning to the side in confusion as he found himself in a hallway with the walls made out of wallpaper with trees. "Okay. . ."

Sam and Birdie continued to run through the woods, Jeremy's retreating figure just barely still in view. They came across another clearing, panting as they halted to a stop when realizing Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. They turned their heads, sharing a concerned look when they realized that Dean was no longer behind them.

"Dean?" Sam and Birdie called out.

Sam suddenly woke up seconds later, gasping. He immediately looked over at Dean, seeing him still sound asleep in the driver's seat.

"Dean." Sam hit Dean on the arm, glancing in the backseat where Birdie was sound asleep just like before. "Hey, Dean, Bird. Wake up."

He hit Dean on the arm two more times, frowning when Birdie didn't wake up. But, Dean slowly turned his head, revealing it wasn't actually Dean.

Sam's eyes widened in horror, seeing Jeremy.

Jeremy roughly hit him hard in his stomach with the tip of the bat he'd used in Birdie's dream, hatred etched on his features. Sam grunted and hastily opened the passenger door. His frown deepened when he noticed Birdie was no longer in the backseat, a sinking feeling washing over him as he wondered what Jeremy did to her. Sam hastily fell out through the door and onto his back, grunting in pain as he tried to crawl away.

Jeremy came around the front of the car, the bat casually resting against his shoulder as he watched Sam. "Boy, you just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you?" he asked, closing the door as he got closer to Sam.

"You're a psycho," Sam said, backing away as he faced Jeremy who towered over him. "What'd you do with Birdie?"

"Oh, she's still here," Jeremy said, head turning to the side. Sam followed his gaze, clenching his jaw in anger when he saw Birdie was now tied to a tree, a piece of tape placed over her mouth while she attempted to free herself. "I thought about putting her in her own personal hell again, but I think I'm gonna save that for after I kill you," he said, smugly smiling down at Sam. "And, for the record, you're wrong about me."

"Yeah? Tell that to Dr. Gregg."

"The doc?" Jeremy asked with his head tilted. He breathed out a laugh, leaning against the back of the impala as he moved the bat so he was holding it out in front of him. "No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away. But I needed it, and he wouldn't let me have it."

"So you killed him?" Sam wondered.

"I can dream again. You know what that's like——not to be able to dream? Y-You never rest, not really. I-It's like being awake for 15 years."

"And let me guess——that makes you go crazy?"

Jeremy leaned down towards Sam, holding the bat out towards him. Birdie grunted through the tape, eyes flamed with anger as she watched Jeremy get closer to Sam. "I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream."

"Sorry. Can't do that."

"That's the wrong answer."

Within seconds, Sam found himself pulled flat against the ground. He groaned, gasping at the sudden movements. He quickly looked to the side, seeing himself now tied to railroad spikes, unable to move anything but his head. A muffled sound caught his attention, panicked eyes locking with Birdie's again.

"I'm getting better and better at this——stronger and stronger all the time," Jeremy said, standing by Sam's feet as he examined the bat. "But you, your brother, and your friend? You're not wakin' up. . .not this time. I'm not gonna let you."

Birdie helplessly struggled against the tight restraints, scrunching her nose as she felt the ropes tug against her wrists. She winced as Jeremy repeatedly hit Sam on his legs and knees, both with the bat and his boot-clad feet. Sam grunted and groaned with each strike, still unable to move.

Jeremy moved to the side after a few hits, now standing over Sam with the bat hovering just a few inches above Sam's chest. "You can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here."

Sam panted, breathing through the pain. "Because of the Dream Root."

"That's right."

"Yeah? Well, you're forgetting something."

Jeremy adjusted his grip on the bat and held it over his shoulder, ready to swing down on Sam. "What's that?"

"I took the Dream Root, too," Sam answered, suddenly smiling.

"Jeremy?!" Birdie's eyes tripled in size, hearing the voice coming from behind her as a man appeared at the edge of the woods; she recognized him from the driver's license she and Bobby had found after they started to work the case——Henry Frost, Jeremy's father. "Jeremy!"

"No. No. . ." Jeremy whispered in utter disbelief, watching his father begin to make his way towards him. Birdie tilted her head in surprise, watching the man move closer as Sam suddenly became free of the restraints. "Dad?"

"You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

Jeremy fearfully backed away from Sam and Henry, no longer holding the bat as pure terror coursed through his body. "No. . ."

His head turned to the side when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, Sam now being the one holding the bat. Birdie grunted and then gasped, staggering forward as the tape suddenly disappeared from her lips and her wrists were set free. Her gaze immediately returned to Sam, brows raising in pure surprise.

How'd he manage to do that?

Sam quickly swung the bat, striking Jeremy across the face before he could try anything else. He staggered to the side from the impact and Sam struck him again, Jeremy's body smacking against the car before he tumbled to the ground.

Sam, Dean, and Birdie woke up simultaneously, panting and sweating inside the impala. They questionably glanced at each other, looking away after making sure that they were each visibly okay. Birdie blinked and ran a hand through her hair, shakily exhaling as she leaned back in the seat in exhaustion.

"You guys alright?" Dean asked, sitting up and twisting his torso to be able to look between Sam and Birdie.

"Yeah, I, uh, Jeremy's gone," Sam answered, letting out a breath of relief.

Dean faintly nodded his head at Sam's answer, turning to face Birdie. "I'm good," she softly said, giving him a thumbs up.

Dean puffed out his cheeks, starting to face forward again. Birdie shifted in the seat, pursing her lips in thought when Dean started up the impala. "Hey Dean," Birdie said, sitting forward to lean her elbows on the front seat.

"Yeah?" he asked while Sam looked aside towards her.

"Why'd you want me to see inside Sam's head?" she wondered, tilting her head.

Sam tensed in his spot while Dean chuckled in amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "That-that. . .he was just kidding," Sam stammered, nervously smiling. Birdie suspiciously narrowed her eyes, raising a skeptical brow. Sam shook his head, huffing when he heard Dean chuckling as he started to drive them out of the woods. "I'm not. . .I-I have normal dreams."

Birdie just raised her brows, stealing a glance towards Dean. He met her gaze, remaining silent as his smile simply widened. "Oh my god!" Birdie gasped, head snapping to the side. Sam's eyes noticeably enlarged, a hint of panic striking his heart. "You had one of those dreams about me, didn't you?"

"No! No, I-I——just no, I didn't!" Sam hastily replied, but Dean and Birdie didn't believe him. "Guys, c'mon, I——"

"Woooow, Sammy," Birdie giggled, resting her head against her hand. "And here I thought Dean would be the one to have dreams about me." Birdie playfully glanced aside at Dean, doing a double-take when he purposely avoided her gaze. "Holy shit!"

"Alright, enough!" Dean huffed, tossing his hand out to the side.

Sam scoffed, shooting Dean a glare. "Oh, now you've had enough?"

Dean returned Sam's harsh glare before he looked towards Birdie, looking between her and the road. "What, like you've never had one of those dreams? Or one about us?"

"I've had plenty of dreams with you guys in them," she answered with a shrug. Sam and Dean quickly looked towards her in surprise, lips falling open. Birdie snickered, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. "But not like that."

Dean scoffed, his expression saying that he didn't believe her. "Yeah, okay."

"Well excuse me for not being a total horndog," she retorted.

Dean shook his head. "Have you ever——"

"Uh, uh," Birdie quickly interjected, brows slightly raised.

Sam laughed, hearing Dean groan with frustration. "Really? That's where you draw the line?"

Birdie turned towards Sam for help, but he simply shrugged and gave her a look as if he was agreeing with Dean. She scoffed, gaping at the older boy. "What the hell, Sam? You're supposed to help me," she sharply said. Sam chuckled and shrugged again, facing the road. Birdie shook her head in disbelief, huffing after a couple of seconds. "Fine, assholes. I have. Happy now?"

"About who?" Dean pressed.

"Does it really matter?" Birdie wondered.

"Yes," Sam and Dean replied at the same time.

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, unable to refrain from smiling along with the brothers. With all that had been going on the last few days, she hadn't exactly had much to smile or laugh about, but being with Sam and Dean——the monster now defeated and room to just breathe——it was just what she needed.

So she laid her head on the seat, her smiling lingering on her lips. "Well, too bad. That's all you're getting for now."

Sam and Dean chuckled, a comfortable silence overcoming them as they headed back to the motel. Birdie closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the quietness as she finally allowed her body to relax.

Sam, Bobby, and Birdie came around the corner of the motel the next morning, walking down the hallway together to go grab their things before they checked out of the motel and went their separate ways. Sam had a key to the room in his hands, Birdie a few steps behind them as she spoke on the phone with Kaiya.

"So you did a little dream-weaving of your own in here, huh?" Bobby asked Sam, glancing aside at the younger boy.

"Yeah, uh, I just sort of concentrated, and it happened, you know?"

"Didn't have anything to do with. . .you know, your psychic stuff?"

Sam questionably turned his head towards Bobby, both of them stopping in the middle of the hallway. Birdie furrowed her brows together, quickly telling Kaiya that she'd call her back in just a few minutes.

"No," Sam answered, seeing Bobby giving him an uncertain look as Birdie headed over to them. "I mean, I don't think so."

Bobby nodded. "Good. Good."

Sam thickly swallowed, looking a little worried as Bobby continued ahead. Birdie let out a soft sigh, nudging his arm with her elbow as they continued down the hall a little behind Bobby. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered, flashing her a quick smile. "How about you? You haven't really said much since. . ."

Birdie sighed, shaking her head to get him to pause. "I know. I just. . .give me a few days, okay?"

"'Course, Bird," Sam said, giving her a sweet smile. She returned it, sighing once again just as they reached the motel room.

They silently entered the room, seeing Bobby moving out of their way. Dean glanced in their direction, seeing Sam and Birdie enter. "Hey, you guys seen Bela?" he wondered, packing up the last of his belongings. "She's not in her room. She's not answerin' her phone."

"She must've taken off or something," Sam said, closing the door behind him.

"Just like that? It's a little weird."

"It's very weird," Birdie pointed out, a skeptical brow raised. Surely Bela wouldn't leave without wanting some kind of payment for helping them.

"Yeah well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby said, looking at the three of them.

"I thought you saved her life," Dean said.

A puzzled look washed over Bobby's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The thing in Flagstaff."

Sam and Birdie both turned their heads towards Bobby, not liking the direction the conversation was heading.

"That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet," Bobby stated. "I gave her a good deal, that's all."

Dean became even more confused, closing his mouth. Sam faced Dean with a similar look on his face. Birdie twisted her lips in thought, curiously looking at the three men.

"Well, then why did y——?"

"You two better check your pockets." Sam reached into his pockets, as did Dean. Birdie frowned, watching Sam and Dean check their pockets. "Not literally."

Dean stopped what he was doing and slowly looked up at Sam as the pieces of the puzzle slowly pieced themselves together; his eyes immediately darted towards the closet where the safe was, dread and anger already starting to spike inside him. Sam, who was looking at Dean, did the same.

"No, no, no, no," Dean loudly groaned to himself, hastily making his way over to the safe. He pulled it open as soon as he reached it, revealing it was completely empty.

"The Colt," Sam said. Dean looked over and slammed the safe shut. "Bela stole the Colt."

"Damn it, boys!"

"Pack your shit," Dean firmly said, walking over to his bag that was placed on the couch.

"Why? Where are we going?" Sam asked, eyes locked on Dean.

Dean briefly turned to look at him, a visibly pissed-off look on his chiseled features. "We're gonna go hunt the bitch down."

Dean, Sam, and Birdie stood by the open trunk of the impala, Dean zipping his bag closed as Sam put his own inside now that they'd checked out of the motel. Bobby had left just a few minutes ago, Birdie staying behind to ride with the boys to try and help them find Bela sooner rather than later.

It certainly wasn't going to be easy, but with the three of them together, Birdie had a feeling they could pull it off.

"Hey, Sam, Bird, I was wondering——when you guys were in my head, what did you see?" Dean curiously asked, his eyes flickering between his brother and Birdie.

"Uh, just Jeremy. He kept us separated from you. Easier to kill us, I guess," Sam answered, squinting as the sun beamed down in his eyes. Dean scoffed under his breath. "What about you? You never said."

Dean shook his head, nonchalantly shrugging. "Nothin'. I was looking for you guys the whole time."

Birdie tilted her head, watching Dean take the keys out of the lock to the trunk and close it. "The whole time?" she asked.

Dean paused, looking towards her. "Yeah. Jeremy was focused on you guys, right?"

Birdie pursed her lips, nodding her head. "Yeah, I guess."

Dean's gaze lingered on her for a few seconds, letting out a sigh as he continued walking towards the driver's side. Birdie felt Sam's eyes on her but she ignored it, opening the back door to climb inside.

Sam sighed as he sat down in the front seat, Birdie scooting further into the car until she was in the middle seat as per usual. Dean looked thoughtful for a moment, something gnawing at him like he needed to get it out now instead of pushing it off any longer than he already had.

"Sam. . .Birdie. . ."

Sam and Birdie turned their heads, facing the oldest Winchester after he said their names. "Yeah?"

Dean didn't look at either of them as he cleared his throat, not wanting to see their expressions as he spoke. "I've been doin' some thinking, and. . .well, the thing is. . .I don't wanna die." Sam and Birdie's expressions instantly softened at Dean's words, their faces falling with sadness; they didn't want him to die either. "I don't wanna go to hell."

Sam swallowed, not answering right away. Birdie glumly twisted her lips, eyes soft and swirling with grief as she looked towards Dean. Sam then softly nodded, letting out a shaky breath as he felt the weight of Dean's words. "All right, yeah. We'll find a way to save you."

Dean looked over at him and then Birdie, looking away as he nodded. "Okay, good." He glanced back at Birdie when she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a little smile appearing on his lips. "No time to die?"

Birdie returned his smile, lightly bopping his nose. "No time to die."

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HELLOOOO! It's been a lil bit since I updated this, but it's mainly because I'm still pre-writing for this! I've finally made it to act two so hopefully I can update pretty soon since we're getting closer to the end of act one hehehe (I think there's 10 chapters left in this act?)!!

But anyways, please don't forget to leave your feedback in the comments and I hope y'all enjoyed!