That was the mantra being repeated on the of inside her mind as her subconscious groped around in the darkness there. She could remember someone's sleepy screams, but she couldn't remember their name. She remembered the fight. At least, she thought she remembered the fight. There was a struggle, then there was Dean - pretending to be the hero he thought he could be, then there was that familiar darkness, a warm pain against the side of her head. Come on, Annie. He's got Teddy. I can't wake you up. This is somethin' you've gotta do on your own. Her body twitched.
Teddy.
There was a sudden pain in her body, shooting up throughout her spine, now arched, suspended somewhere new. A loud scream sounded, but it took seconds for her to realize that the screen had come from the depths of her own throat. The haze in front of her eyes was starting to clear, slowly, but surely. Her fingers twitched this time and she winced, attempting to glance up at them. That's it. Come on. You're doin' good, kid. You're almost there. Dean. That was Dean. Her own thoughts were lost somewhere inside his voice, but she didn't care. She felt miserable, she wanted to know what the hell was going on, but more importantly - she wanted her son.
Annie blinked a few tears out of her eyes, staring at the blurry ropes around her wrists overhead. Her stomach lurched. She wriggled again, eyes and head quickly darting down in the direction of her legs, also bound by similar ropes. "FUCK! "No, no, no, no!"" She screamed, her voice hoarse and dry. Her hands balled up into fists, her body still moving quickly in her restraints. "TEDDY!?!? TEDDY, BABY, WHERE ARE-" She stopped, finally coming face to face with the reason she had been trying to find. It was him. Rodney. Or Robert. Or - Richard. Yes, that was it. That's what that sick son of a bitch was going by now.
"You," she spat, "What the hell have you done with my son, you fuckin' bastard?!"