One More Time

34.

"Hey," I say making Sam look down at me. "Are you okay?"

"Cal, it-- It knew about Jessica."

"Sam, these things, t-they read minds. They lie. That's all it was," I assure him

"Yeah."

"Look... I know you keep saying you're fine, and we don't need to worry about you, but... I am worried about you," I sigh. "I'm really worried."

"I know."

"We're gonna find this thing, kill it, and find your Dad. I know it," I say. He slowly nods.

"You know... I'm really proud of you," he admits.

"You are?"

"Yeah... I know how scared you were of that demon, and yet, you killed it, you sent it back to hell on your own, really."

"I mean, I had a little help," I shrug. Sam wraps his arms around me, pulling me into warm hug. I hug him back, kissing his cheek softly. "Come on, let's get out of here."

*at Jerry's office*

"Nobody knows what you three did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed. Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry."

He starts to walk off when Dean speaks. "You know, Jerry, I meant to ask you."

"Yeah?"

"How'd you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me."

"What," Sam asks.

"When did you talk to him?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again." He walks off, and we exchange confused looks.

~ ~ ~

"This doesn't make any sense. I've called Dad's number like 50 times. It's been out of service," Sam sighs, as Dean presses the phone against his ear. We listen in.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean-- 785-555-0179. He can help." The voice message ends, and Dean shuts his phone. I sigh, looking at Sam.

He looks... so upset, and I hate it.

He hops in the car, and I look at Dean. "You know, he's okay, right," I say making him look at me. "He has to be."

"Yeah... Maybe."

We hop in the car, and he pulls out on to the road. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna take a nap. I'm exhausted," I admit.

I lie down, sighing. I close my eyes and let sleep engulf me.

~ ~ ~

I slowly take a look around to see that I'm in sitting on my bed in my house.

How am I here right now? I thought I was just in Dean's car.

I stand up, walking toward the door. I try to open it, but it doesn't budge. "Hello," I question, knocking on it. "Anyone out there?" Suddenly, a scream comes from the other side making me jump back.

What the hell?!

"Who's there," I shout.

"Callie!"

That sounds like...

"Callie, I need you!"

"Sam," I question, banging on the door. "Let me out!"

"Callie, please! I'm begging you," Sam pleads.

"Sam, I can't get out! Just hold on," I shout. I rush over to my nightstand, grabbing my gun from inside of it, and shooting the lock. It breaks off and I rush toward the door, opening it.

I gasp, letting out a scream when I see Sam lying on the floor, a knife in his chest. "No, no, no, no," I exclaim, rushing over to him. Blood pours out of his chest, as he slowly looks up at me. "Sam, y-you're gonna be okay."

"Why did you let this happen?"

"What--? I didn't. I was locked in my room. I didn't know--"

"This is your fault."

"What? No. No, Sam, this isn't my fault," I shake my head.

"You could've stopped it, but instead, you let me die. How could you?!"