2. Crazy Town

These dudes have some serious issues.

Instead of holing me up in the bathroom or letting me go (like I had hoped for), I had been handcuffed to one of the chairs at the small table that was in the cramped room. I knew I could pick up the chair and run away, but I wasn't that strong, so I discarded the option.

Oh, and how do I know these guys are off their rocker?

Well, for one thing, they threw water at me, again. The douche who caught me for trying to hotwire his car nicked me with a knife, so now I have a thin, healing pink line on my forearm. There were a few other tests which only proved these two were insane.

So now, here I am, handcuffed to a chair, in Normal, Illinois, where right now anything is but normal. So far, this city has been proven wrong several times, and this was before I met these two lunatics.

I try and avoid contact with either of them. They disappeared earlier to another part of the room after their tests on me. Maybe I stumbled onto the wrong people. I just ran into killers' hands. Well, it's not the first time my life has been at stake. Though, usually, when my life is on the line, I have an even chance of surviving. Right now, being stuck to a chair lessens my odds. There's nothing around to pick my locks with.

I groan loudly enough to annoy the guys and lean against the chair, which is becoming quickly uncomfortable.

"We're not happy about this either," comes the owner of the deep voice that's not Sam.

I look at him with a hard gaze. "Really? You looked like you had a sparkle in your eye when we had a go in the lot," I snarl. "Is this what psychos do nowadays? Prey at motels?"

"I might as well be asking the same about people like you." His arms are folded across his chest.

"Watch your tone." My hands go into fists. "Dangerous territory."

"I'm no stranger to danger."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Why am I still here?" I jiggle the cuffs. "Are you two going to kill me?"

Sam's eyes go wide. "Why would we do that?"

"Well, Killer over here"-I gesture to Sam's counterpart-"looked like he would have been more than happy to put a bullet in my brain."

"We're not killers." But the look in Sam's eyes tell me that he sounds off saying the words.

"Neither am I." I raise my chin.

"Yeah, okay," scoffs the other guy.

"Sorry, but not all of 'my kind,'" I say bitingly, "are murderers."

"Your kind?"

"She's normal, Dean," Sam tells him. "She passed all the tests."

"Are you guys saving me for the cops?" I pause a beat. "You two aren't cops, are you?"

"No, we're not," Sam assures me. "We would have been at the precinct by now."

"Does sound like a good idea, to drop her off there," says Dean. He sits in the other chair, I scoot away instantly. "Relax, I'm not gonna touch you." He pulls his foot up to barely rest it on the chair. He begins to tie his shoe. "Somebody can take her off our hands."

"Way to talk like I'm trash like I'm not here."

Something attracts my eye. I turn my head to see a flash of light come from the closet. I jump and try to move away, but the cuffs remind me I can't go anywhere. After the flash of light, the door bursts open, and a man comes stumbling out.

The hell? I think. He looks very-well dressed, but he looks out of place. His eyes are wide and confused. I don't blame him. This is something that someone on acid would see. This would be something out of a dream. It almost reminds me of...

No. I shove the thought away. That's been locked away for years for a reason. I want to be away from Sam and Dean, whoever these guys really are, and I certainly want nothing to do with the man who seemed to have just magically teleported from a motel room closet.

"Which of you is John Winchester?" he asks breathlessly.

"Well, it's obviously not me," I say.

"Shut up," Dean tells me. He's on his feet, tense, just like Sam.

"Please, time is of the essence!" says the closet traveler. "Which of you is John Winchester?"

Am I on acid and I don't even know it? I pinch myself and wince. No, I'm definitely in reality.

"Uh, neither," says Sam after a long second.

"That's impossible. That's absolutely...What did I do wrong?"

"Who the hell are you, mister?" Dean demands.

"Not now. I'm thinking."

I flinch as Dean goes up to the stranger, puts him against the wall, with an arm across the guy's chest. He must be so good with strangers, I think sarcastically. This must be how he greets.

"Please," the guy says. "I can assure you there's no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester."

"I'll tell you what," Sam cuts in, "when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions."

"Yes, my apologies. Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?" The question is for Dean.

Dean steps back, giving our mysterious visitor some air. Did I just think 'our'? I don't even know these guys!

"Thank you." He brushes himself off. "Gentlemen, lady"-I faintly smile, it's nice to be acknowledged-"in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I'll be on my way."

"That's not happening," Sam says.

"There are things of grave importance. I do not have time to deal with the likes of you."

Sam and Dean move in, Dean with another pair of handcuffs. I watch with mild interest as the guys wrestle with the closet traveler, trying to handcuff him to the same chair as me. Is there going to be enough room to do that?

Just when I think the guys have him, the man somehow gets himself out of it. The guys are handcuffed along with me to the chair. The closet traveler heads for the exit.

"How did he do that?" Dean roars. "You got to be kidding me!"

"So, this is how you greet strangers," I note. "You must be pretty popular."

"Oh, can it!"

Between their efforts, Dean is the first to get himself free. He hands his pick over to Sam, who works to get the cuff off his wrist before he leaves in pursuit of the closet traveler. I look down and see I'm not free yet.

"Hey, assholes!" I shout at the top of my lungs. "You better not leave me here to die!"

I don't get a response. I turn my head to see a nearby window, but it doesn't give me the view that I want. I slump against the chair and huff. I swear, if this is how I'm going to die, I should have just ended it with a hit-and-run before this.

I begin to think I've been abandoned until I hear the door slam behind me. Dean's pushing their captive in front, Sam follows in tow. Well, I would have heard the car leave if they really were going to leave me here. I watch silently in the background as Sam and Dean get their captive in a chair.

They perform the same tests that they did to me only minutes ago. Sam does all the work instead of Dean. He finishes off with throwing water in the guy's face.

The closet traveler laughs. "And there with the holy water."

Holy water? I think to myself.

"He's clean," Sam confirms.

"I could have told you that." The traveler pulls down his left sleeve to hide the cut.

"Yeah, well, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you," Dean threatens.

"I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend. And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier."

My eyes fall onto the gun in Dean's hand as he grabs the traveler by the front of his jacket. "Let me tell you what I understand! Some homeless chick tries to pull a fast one on me and get away with my ride! And now some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?"

I swallow. Right now, I think I like Sam better than Dean. At least Sam isn't threatening people. He seems like the saner out of the two. Wait. This guy is looking for Dean's dad? I now have to wonder if Sam is related to Dean. It's possible.

"John Winchester is your father?" says the man slowly.

I look around wildly at hearing a loud rattling noise. My ears detect it's coming from the closet. My hairs rise. Something bad is going to come out. I begin to rattle my handcuffs nervously.

"What is that?" I squeak, surprised that I can talk at all.

The traveler gets to his feet. "Oh, my God."

"What?" Dean asks.

"Run!"

But it's too late. The closet door bursts open again in another flash of light. This time, a woman with deep red hair comes out the other end. I swallow, my heart decides to gallop in my chest.

Not a lot scares me, not where I'm living. But this...this is enough to make me afraid, because I don't understand what the hell is going on. I don't understand any of this. I don't want to be near any of this. What have I gotten myself involved in?

"Henry," the woman purrs. Her laugh is high and almost maniacal. "Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells never were your best subject, were they? Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly."

I feel a comment rise in my throat, but I force it back down. For once, I don't let my attitude get me into trouble. This kind of trouble I might not be able to walk away from.

"You know I can't do that," says Henry.

"You're not a fighter, Henry."

I'm just a spectator to something I can't try to comprehend. Dean raises his gun at the woman, and with her arms lifted, an unknown force puts Sam and Dean into the walls. Now I'm desperate enough to start moving the chair with me. I really don't want to be here.

I look over my shoulder at the guys. You better not leave me here with this psycho bitch. She's not even human! The concept isn't as startling as it should be to me. I can understand it on some level, but that's the only thing I can about this entire situation.

I'm thrown into the middle of something I never wanted to be thrown in. All I had to worry about was keeping myself warm, alive, and somewhat fed. Now, I have to worry about not dying all because two morons couldn't let me go like they should have.

Henry tries to move, but the woman stops him with a hand. Shit. She looks like the killing type. I'm just collateral damage.

"Josie," Henry says quietly. "I know you're still in there. You must fight this."

"I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet. It looks like it's just you and me."

I cover my mouth with my hand as Dean comes up from behind not-Josie and stabs her in the back. I tilt my head as I see gold light pulse throughout her body. Not-Josie sort of screams as she falls to her knees. Bad sign.

The three men back up more towards the exit as not-Josie stops flashing gold inside of her body. Dean and Henry squeeze closer together, and by some miracle of a chance, Sam comes to get me out of the handcuffs. I can't thank him just yet.

"Well, that is no way to treat a lady."

I end up in the herd that runs like bats of Hell out of the room. Dean and Henry throw themselves into the front of the car, with Sam and I-I don't even know why I'm going with them-running for the back. Sam and I nearly collide when we get into opposite sides.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go!" Sam urges.

I barely have time to buckle in, as Dean throttles backwards and bolts out of the parking lot. I scream as we nearly hit another vehicle. I barely hear the man screaming at us from behind, we're too busy running away from whatever the hell just happened.

**BAM. We're swept up into the action already! We're just getting started, readers! There's so much story left that I hope you stick around for!**