.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Abomination

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The yellow eyes bore deep into Sam’s, the intent was certain. Its voice, thick with venom, turned his insides and he had to look away.

“You’ve only got yourself to blame. Only got him to blame. He didn’t have to get hurt, if he just left, if you just left, he would be fine but now… I’m gonna make you watch him burn. Just like your mommy did, just like pretty little Jess.”

“You bastard! Stay away from him!” Sam shouted, his gaze drifting between the unconscious form of Dean and the demon.

He tried to move but the all too familiar sensation of being pinned against the wall was far too strong and he couldn’t break free, he could only watch helpless as the demon moved over to Dean.

“Wakey, wakey my boy.” It taunted, kicking Dean in the side, like a child might kick an unmoving animal or poke it with a stick.

Dean moaned and began to stir, his head felt thick but when the memories of what happened came flooding back, he was pulling himself up off the cold wooden floor before the second kick came. The effort made him cough, spraying a small amount of blood in the direction of the demon.

His eyes searched the room, happy to find Sam’s but then the demon spoke, grabbing Dean’s attention.

“You’re a weird one Dean. You’re not like the others, you’re disgusting actually. Pathetic. You’re a waste of space and a burden to your family, to your darling little brother.”

“Leave Sam alone.” Dean growled through clenched teeth.

“Now you know I can’t do that. I have plans and you just keep getting in the way.” With a flick of the eyes, the demon sent Dean slamming against the wall, “The only good thing you’ve done for me is to get your Daddy to make that deal.”

Dean growled again as he struggled against the invisible pressure pushing him against the wall, “You son of bi…”

His words were cut short by the strange sensation of being dragged up the wall. He tried his best to thrash about but he knew the demon wasn’t clumsy enough to give him a chance. His skull collided with the ceiling and he cursed, bending his neck to look down, it was the only movement he was allowed.

“You probably know but I don’t normally do this to males, so you could think of yourself as special.” It mocked him.

“Leave him the hell alone!” Sam shouted, eyes widened in fear. There was no way out this time, no Dad to fight back and release the hold and no colt on the table if somehow he did manage to escape.

Dean was being dragged along the ceiling now, he was nearly at the centre and Sam could see the panic sketched across his face and when his body came to a halt, the panic changed to pain and Sam looked on in horror as his brothers abdomen started bleeding.

“Dean!” Sam cried out, tears threatening to escape from his eyes.

Dean tried to call back but the pain was too much and his voice just wouldn’t work, all he could do was mouth ‘Sammy’ and then the real pain started. The fire forced its way around him, flames engulfing him and scorching him causing every pore to sweat, even cauterizing the invisible wound across his stomach. His voice worked now as he let out one long pain filled cry and then he clenched his teeth and bit back any other cries that threatened to escape.

The heat was causing him to breathe heavily and his eyes to water. In his mind he begged for release, begged to just die and be done with it but the fire just raged around him, spreading across the ceiling, turning it to ash as it went. It felt like he’d been up there for an eternity but it wasn’t until he saw the first few pieces of ash fall that he realised something.

The demon had realised it to, roaring in frustration and commanding the flames to intensify. And they did. The were spreading to the walls now, jumping and flickering, stealing the oxygen from the air and feeding the demons anger but that didn’t change the fact that Dean Winchester still wasn’t burning. His skin was still a gentle tan and no more, with a couple of dirty marks and flecks of black from the falling ash. His hair, though singed at the very ends, was still very much intact and a golden brown colour. And his hazel green eyes, reflected fear and flames.

“Abomination!” It screeched, yellow eyes fuming with hatred and anger.

“Dean?” Sam whispered, half choked on tears and half out of uncertainty. He remembered that night with Jess clearly, especially because of the dreams but it was nothing like this. Dean had dragged him out before he could witness any more yet he was sure that flames hot enough to destroy the flat would have destroyed Jess almost instantly and yet here was his brother, flames getting hotter and hotter and he just refused to burn.

“Please! Let him go!” Sam pleaded, tearing his eyes off Dean and looking towards the demon, “Please!”

It turned to look at Sam and regarded him for a second but it merely shook his head, its attention heading back towards Dean. After all that boy had done, it was determined to watch him burn. How was it he was able to survive the fire? How was he still able to breathe? Perhaps it hadn’t realised just how much of a threat Dean Winchester really was? And then again…

It smirked and the flames began to die, they continued to just disappear as if an invisible chill had extinguished them and the demon let the exhausted, sweating and bloody Dean fall to a lump on the floor. This was the boy who had exorcised his daughter, killed his son, without a second thought about the humans they were possessing, all for the sake of his family. Perhaps it hadn’t realised just how much potential Dean Winchester really had?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fight the Good Fight

(One Week Earlier)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

There were so many scattered all over. He’d found a deep pleasure in visiting them when they were just babies and he enjoyed watching them as they grew, thrived on their pain and anguish and in some, bloodlust.

Max Miller, he was a charm. He’d been beaten so badly as he grew up and was an emotional ruin, perfect for moulding. When he’d discovered his telekinetic powers he’d opened up to them so easily, letting them grow and grow, letting the power and anger and hate that came with them grow too. He began to master his skills and the demon was pleased when he saw how ready he was to kill and when he had killed, the demon was ecstatic. If he hadn’t turned his powers and that gun on himself, he would have been a great asset.

Then there was the Weams kid, Ansem or Webber, whatever he preferred, the demon didn’t care much, they were only names. He was one of two, given up for adoption and he’d led a rich life, grown up health and when the demon decided it was time to visit, it told him all about his other half, his twin. His mind controlling abilities were wonderful and he progressed so much after he let the darkness in. He was another one do ready to kill, so willing. But then his life was ended all because of his twin, the one that was supposed to make him whole.

Andrew Gallagher, that’s what the twin was called. He had the same abilities as his brothers, though not nearly as well advanced but he’d get their, given time. His life had been simple and he didn’t want much, what he wanted he got and so the demon had little to offer him and was hoping that his meeting with his twin could show the true promise the kid had. In a way it did, it showed that he was willing and able to kill but it also showed he was noble, which made the demon less enthusiastic.

Another tragic story was Scott Carey. He was another emotional ruin. The demon truly enjoyed his meetings with Scott, telling him about the plans, playing with his mind, haunting his dreams and making him into an outsider, a freak. He fried his neighbours cat, electrocuted it and the dumb kid actually felt guilty about it. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Shame, the demon thought, sighing as he thought about how he’d never see Scott’s full potential, not after that damn hunter cut up open.

Ava was a pretty girl. She go visions, in fact she had one of Scott, she’d watched him die in it. She probably could have saved him if she’d understood. She was getting married, but after a foolish trip to save another kid from his death that she’d dreamed about, she came home to find her fiancé dead and now… well, now she’s honing her abilities.

There’s so many more of them but if the demon had to choose pick one that truly stood out from the rest, it was Samuel Winchester. So determined to fight evil instead of becoming part of it. He possessed not only precog but telekinesis as well, yet the guy just refused to accept either ability. He tried his hardest to save the people in his ‘death’ visions and the demon couldn’t help but think if he could just get rid of one obstacle that always seemed to stand in the way, then he could claim Samuel Winchester.

But there he was, always there protecting Sam from as much as he could. That damned Dean Winchester.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late, or early depending on how you looked at it, either way it was 3AM and Sam Winchester was sat in front of his laptop, searching for their next hunt. Dean had fallen asleep well over four hours ago and Sam smiled. He’d gotten pretty beaten up by that poltergeist the previous night so it was good to see him actually getting a good night’s sleep.

Didn’t matter what the creatures were, they just loved handing out giant dollops of pain to the Winchesters. Sam ran his finger across the scar on his face and his slightly swollen and bruised jaw. Yeah, Dean wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hurt but he had gotten the brunt of it, that’s what happened when you played the distraction and always put yourself last.

But it was another hunt completed; another evil ‘vanquished’, another life saved and another day they’d managed to survive. And then the next hunt would come and they’re do it all again, only never knowing for certain whether they’re make it out alive. He remembered back to Dean’s heart attack over a year ago and sighed, his words echoing through Sam’s mind.

“Look Sammy, what can I say man? It’s a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That’s it, end of story.”

That’s what happened when you fought the good fight.

It was 3.10AM and his eyes were starting to droop. He still sat with the laptop open, its screen dimly lighting the room behind him. He scanned the pages, closed them down and opened more up. There were signs of a haunting in Dallas, either that or a really good prank being pulled. Sam continued reading and by the of the several articles on it, he’d dismissed it and labelled it as a divorce gone badly and an ex-wife getting her revenge on quite possibly a cheating ex-husband. The Winchesters didn’t like getting involved in domestic disturbances, probably because they’d had so many of their own over the years.

Okay, so no to Dallas. However some tourists had gone missing over in Memphis, maybe it was worth looking into. No positive pattern with the victims yet, except that they all sounded young. Maybe they went to the same college or knew the same person. It was surely worth researching into.

It was 3.25AM and Sam’s eyes had closed, momentarily, several times over the past few minutes and he didn’t know why but he just didn’t want to sleep, sleep was wasting time. He’d dragged up a few details about the missing people, mainly just their names, ages, current college and yes, they all went to the same college and were probably in sororities and fraternities. Sam glanced at the calendar, it was about the right time for them to be pulling pranks but still, maybe he should tell Dean later, in the morning after Sam had actually gotten some sleep.

It took three yawns for Sam to admit defeat and he closed his laptop with yet another sigh and headed over to his bed. On the way over he felt two sensations come at once, the sudden light headedness and the blinding flash of pain that always started behind his eyes and always magnified and echoed through the rest of his skull, rattling loudly. The images followed almost simultaneously.

There were two figures, both running, one further behind but catching up quickly. They were running through a park, Sam caught the name on a sign and forced the words to stay imprinted as he continued watching the commotion.

The first figure looked back, her light brow hair catching in her face and terror shining brightly through her eyes and then the terror mixed with shock as she stumbled and fell forwards, landing heavily on the ground. She twisted onto her back and tried her best to scoot away from the oncoming figure, the object of her fear.

But he was right on top of her now, a good few inches taller than her, maybe more. A sadistic smile crossed his features and he knelt down to grab the defenceless girl by her left wrist, dragging her up off the ground. With her free hand, she tried to slap him but he caught it easily. She was on her feet again now and wriggling, trying her best to escape his clutches but he swung her round so the back of her body was pressed hard against his own, toned muscles flexing with her touch, leaving her even more powerless and leaving him with a free hand.

He used his free hand to reach around his back a pull out a long and deadly sharp knife. He brought the blade up to her throat, teasing it across her delicate skin, causing it to split just enough for a small amount of blood to ooze out and over onto the blade, stinging her. He bit his lip in anticipation as if he wanted to hold this moment in his memory forever and as he pressed the knife on harder, she screamed into the night, sending the birds flying from the trees, wings flapping so loudly that the running footsteps in the distance remained unnoticed. And then her cry was abruptly ended as the blade sliced deeply through her throat, the light in her eyes dimmed and she suddenly became slack and he let her go, letting her body fall freely to the ground with a soft thump.

“Sweet Dreams.” He whispered, turning away with a smile, only to have it turn into a snarl as he found himself with a gun in his face and accusing hazel eyes staring at him from the behind the gun.

“What have you done Sammy?” A disappointed voice whispered, cracking in places.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Were the fading angry words as Sam’s mind began to exit the vision.

His mind jolted back to his body, suddenly aware of a slight pain in his knees where they were sure to have hit the ground. He felt a warm and comforting arm wrap around him and pull him off the floor and onto his bed. A strong voice filled with no disappointment called his name and Sam looked up.

“Sammy? You okay?”

Sam could only stare; mouth agape in horror at what he had just witness, unable to comprehend the full terror of it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fell On Black Days

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Sammy!” Dean raised his voice a little, hoping for a response. He held his brother by the shoulders and knelt in front, trying to catch Sam’s gaze, “Come on little bro’, you’re starting to freak me out.”

Their eyes locked and Sam moved his mouth, trying to form words but before anything even had the chance to come out he felt the acidic touch of bile rising in his throat and he knew he wouldn’t be able to force it back down. The only other choice was breaking from his brother’s grasp and running to the bathroom where he would surely throw his entire insides up.

He barely made it in time before his heaving started bringing up the contents of a half full stomach and he kept heaving, pausing only for seconds between each one, until his stomach was empty. Dean was kneeling next to him, patting and rubbing him on the back and Sam welcomed the comforting touch.

His entire body was shaking and he took several deep breaths to try and steady himself. When he finally felt he was ready to stand Dean helped him up, determined not to break that contact. Sam leant over the sink, hand forcing the cold tap to spin and flow with the sweet cooling water that he splashed on his face and rinsed his mouth out with.

“Feeling better?” Dean asked, finally relinquishing his hold on his brother.

Sam just nodded slowly, closing his eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean flushed the contents in the toilet away and put the lid down, taking a seat. He watched his brother carefully; taking in every shudder, every breath and every shaking limb.

Sam didn’t answer; he just turned his head away from Dean.

“Was it a vision?”

Sam nodded that time, though Dean couldn’t help but notice the numb like quality it held. He swallowed hard, Sam’s hesitation showed it was something that had probably either seriously scared him or seriously disgusted him, maybe even both, and Dean just wasn’t sure whether he should push. But Sam decided for him.

“Dean…” Sam looked him straight in his eyes and Dean saw pleading and fear mixed in his features, “Dean… I…”

“It’s okay.” Dean said, “Whatever you saw, we’ll stop it.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief, “But Dean… it was me… I… I killed a girl.”

Dean felt his whole body tense up at Sam’s admission; now it was his turn to be disbelieving, “You what? No, Sam. No. If it was you, you must have had a reason – she was possessed or something, simple as. She must have been – ”

Sam cut his words off, tears forming in his eyes, he felt dirty and couldn’t stop the anger rising inside of him, “Been what? Evil? No Dean, she wasn’t. It was me! I’d gone dark side or something. I killed her and…” I’d enjoyed it. The last words went unspoken and Dean didn’t even question their absence.

“No, you didn’t. You haven’t killed anyone Sam and you’re not going to. It was a vision. Whatever you saw happen, we’ll stop it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam was amazed by how much faith his brother had in him being good and after that vision, he just wasn’t sure if Dean should really trust him.

Dean was standing now; his body had started shaking but from fear, anger… he didn’t know. This was the first time Sam had ever had a vision about himself and yeah, it scared the hell out of Dean that in it, Sam had been evil. “I made a promise. I promised you and Dad that if I couldn’t save you then I’d kill you. You both know that I keep my promises and I know for damned sure that I can’t kill you, that only leaves us with one option. Don’t it?”

Sam stared into those protective hazel eyes, glazed with emotion and tried to make out what Dean was truly feeling. The eyes held no accusation, the voice held no disappointment. Determination, strength, need, love… these shone clearly in his eyes and rang clearly in his voice and Sam bit his lip, allowing himself to relax and nod.

“We’ve stopped your visions from happening before.” Dean shrugged and he walked past Sam and back out into the bedroom, “Besides, who’s to say it ain’t just that yellow eyed bastard trying to screw with your mind? Hell, maybe it was a shape shifter.”

Sam glanced at his reflection in the mirror as Dean spoke, haunted eyes stared back at him and water droplets made their way down his paling skin. He looked away and took a deep breath before following Dean back into the other room. Closing the door behind, he made his way over to his bed and sat down on the end, “It wasn’t a shape shifter… Hell, I don’t know, maybe something is messing with my mind but it was definitely me in the vision.”

Dean ran his hand through his hair, leaning back against his beds headboard. Sammy seemed so certain but Dean just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Maybe it was denial but Sam was the good guy, he had a cleaner record than Dean did. Sam was Dean’s conscience; he was the one that always stopped Dean from taking it a step too far. He shook the thoughts away and watched Sam as he stared unfocused at the floor.

“You know, you look like a freaking zombie.”

“Thanks.” Sam rolled his eyes, lifting his head slightly to look over at Dean.

“Seriously Sam, get some sleep. You’re no good to me without those boyish good looks that all the grandma’s love.”

Sam actually smiled and nodded. Dean, the defuser of tense situations. He smirked slightly at the thought and found himself crawling under his covers and throwing his head down against the soft pillow. Now that the adrenaline had started to leave his system and the shock was wearing off, his eyes felt amazingly heavy and it was hard keeping them open.

The adrenaline in Dean’s system was still pumping though and though he could barely make out Sam through the haze of darkness, he watched his younger brother and continued watching him even well after Sam’s breathing had evened out and fell into the same pattern it always did when he was asleep.

“I would give anything for you not to have to worry about stuff like that Sammy. I’d take those visions and those headaches…” Dean whispered solemnly, “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t until the sun had started rising that Dean’s eyelids started fighting him, protesting. They drooped and sagged and every time he tried to rub or blink the sleep away, it just got worse until finally they closed and they didn’t open back up.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Resistant was one word to describe the Winchester brothers, challenging was another one. But what was life without a few challenges? What was the point of getting what you wanted all the time if it wasn’t even any fun? That’s what it was… a game. Command and conquer; battleships; risk… war games. If there was one thing he admired about humans, it was their ability to turn war into a game. And if there was anything to be admired about the Winchesters, it was that they truly made the game fun.

He had his strategy all planned out. Everything was in place, it was just a matter of moving the right pieces and hoping that his opponents reacted in the way he wanted them to because asides from being great with creating war and mayhem, humans could also be extremely unpredictable and sometimes the unpredictability came with heroics and yes, heroics were amusing but they were also annoying.

Dean and Sam Winchester were heroic. They were selfless and noble and righteous and there were some things that he’d never understand, like why John Winchester was so willing to give up his soul to save his eldest son. He sometimes wondered if the oldest Winchester knew something about this anomaly that was Dean; the one person that didn’t fit his pattern or plans, the one person that he was fast tiring of playing with and the one person that he wanted removing from the equation right now because even demons can become impatient.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fear of the Dark

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(Present Day)

Everything felt too heavy. He couldn’t lift his head, whenever he tried it just fell back lamely to the ground with soft thump but he felt too numb to feel any pain that it may have caused. His eyes flickered open for no longer than mere seconds at a time and when they did, his vision was far too blurred to actually make anything out. Even the sounds that came from his surroundings were jumbled and mixed up, he tried to focus on just one but his mind was far too foggy, clogging any clear thoughts he tried to form. His breathing was a mixture of deep and shallow breaths, painful and hitching in places and his heart was beating erratically in his chest, threatening to break out through his unprotected layers of skin and muscle and bone.

A cold hand touched his forehead… or was it that he was so hot the hand just felt cold… he didn’t care… it was just there… it was something to focus on so he could forget about the pain. He blinked his eyes again and tried to search for the owner of the hand… hoping to see the kind and worried eyes of his brother. Instead, all he saw was the swirling yellow pits that haunted his family and then the darkness came to claim him, taking him swiftly away from everything and into nothingness.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“You son of a bitch!” Sam cried, “Get the hell away from my brother!”

Sam stared hard at Dean’s body, watching carefully for any movement and happy to see his chest rising and falling at odd intervals. It was almost as if his brother had the hiccups, without the funny, yet embarrassing, high pitched squeaking noise.

He felt a deep sense of hopelessness as the demon kneeled down next to Dean and placed his hand on Dean’s flushed forehead, making him struggle as much as he could against the force keeping him pinned against the wall.

“Stop touching him” He shouted childishly, “Leave him alone.”

The demon looked up at him, eyes bearing into his soul and Sam felt his anger rising, Dean’s breathing had started evening out but that thing was still touching him and Sam wanted to rip its hand away from the vulnerable older hunter. The yellow eyed bastard just smiled in reply, a grin to rival the Cheshire cat’s or even that of a particularly cocky Dean.

“You want me to leave him alone so badly?” The Demon taunted.

Sam didn’t answer instead he just glared, refusing to turn away and break eye contact.

“He’s not one of mine but who’d have guessed he could actually turn out to be useful.” The Demon dropped his gaze back down to the unconscious form, an insane glow forming in its eyes.

“I’m going to kill you!”

“No you won’t.” It stated calmly, “Because wherever your brother goes, you’re sure to follow and right now, he’s got much more darkness in his heart.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(6 Days Ago)

When Dean eventually woke up, morning was practically over and the afternoon was merely minutes away and his younger ‘I’m an annoying morning person’ brother was already up, showered, dressed and fed and was sat, at the pathetic little thing that could just possibly pass for a table, scouring the Internet on his laptop.

“You look better.”

Sam remained silent, merely nodding in reply.

“What you looking for?” Dean asked, pulling himself out of bed.

“My vision happened in a park… I was trying to find it.”

“Oh… And have you?”

“Hackworth Park… few hundred miles north from here.” Sam looked up, his features set, “Part of me wants to stay the hell away from it because it’s just asking for trouble going there…”

“But?”

“But I can’t keep running from my fears. Something happens and I’m gonna stop it before it does. I’m gonna face it head on.”

Dean smiled at his brothers determination, “No Sammy, we’re gonna stop it, we’re gonna face it head on… we’re in this together, you know that right?”

“I know.” And Sam smiled too, it was his first smile since waking and he was relieved feel how genuine it was.

“Well then, let me grab a shower and we’ll get this show on the road.”

Little over and hour later, after Dean had been showered and had drank the sweet nectar that was black coffee, that Sam had so kindly gone and bought for him, and had scrounged a couple left over doughnuts, they were on the road headed north. Naturally Dean refused to let Sam drive and naturally he had his classic rock playing in the background, Iron Maiden echoed through the car as he mumbled the parts with lyrics and tapped the steering wheel to the instrumentals. At the speed he was driving, they might make it to Little Willington before midnight rang across the state.

Sam played around with his laptop, searching the weather patterns for the area and for any other signs that may point to the Demon. He pondered slightly, wondering whether or not he should Ash a call, see if he’d noticed anything but then… surely Ash would have already called if there was something showing up. No, they were probably alone on this one and Sam knew that’s the way Dean would want it. There were very few people that Dean truly trusted and when it came to Sam, he was wary of just about everyone.

It wasn’t until they were only a couple of hours away that Dean finally asked if Sam had found anything out unusual about the town they were going to, any recent unexplained deaths, suicides or missing person. But it was clean. An old lady had died the week before and someone’s pet cat had been run over but other than that, there was nothing.

And so with only a couple of miles left to go before they reached Little Willington, Dean pulled into the next motel shortly after midnight and the brothers went to claim a yet another tacky motel room where they would sleep and prepare for the next day. Both of them unaware of the watching eyes and ticking clock that was counting down to that moment somewhere in the near future that would change them and brand them if they let it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yellow eyes watched from the shadows, smiling as the pawns were moving slowly into place. He would claim what was rightfully his, and when he did, he would use the eldest’s blood to toast the victory, savouring the taste.

But of course, not all the cards were on the table just yet and sometimes if a pawn manages to make it to the other side, they can become one of the most dangerous and powerful pieces on the board, so even Demon’s with a fool proof plan can be beaten if they’re playing against a true fool unless that pawn makes it to the other side and doesn’t want to turn back.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

From the Inside

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(5 Days ago)

“What have you done Sammy?”

Sam was staring down the barrel of a gun and into hazel eyes filled with a deep regret and sorrow, emotions that were amplified ten fold in the voice.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Sam’s voice on the other hand was cold and hard, uncaring and downright icy.

His brother shook his head, “I’m not gonna leave you alone. You’re my brother.”

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a step forward, “You just don’t get it, you never will.”

“Drop the knife Sammy.” Dean demanded, his voice shaking.

“Or what?” He mocked, “You’ll shoot me?”

There was no reply, only a pleading in Dean’s eyes that repeated the request and begged to have his old Sam back.

“You don’t have the guts.”

“What’s he done to you? What happened to make you change like this?” The questions came through demanding and maybe just a little bit broken and scared.

“I’ve been saved. Saved from that pathetic life of hunting demons. I can have anything I want.”

“And what do you want?” Dean seemed almost afraid to ask.

Sam thought it over for a second before coming up with his one word answer, “Power.”

“You wanted normalcy once. You wanted to kill this bastard demon and just live…”

“That was before I saw what was really being offered. You’ll never understand…” Sam smirked. It was a smirk that had no right being on what was meant to be an innocent face.

“Sam…” Dean tried pleading again, but as his Dad had taught him way back when, emotions can be powerful allies but they can also cloud your judgement and make you drop your guard.

And as soon as Dean’s guard dropped for that mere millisecond, Sam swung his hand up and round, knocking the gun to the side and dragging the knife in his hand across the back of Dean’s gun hand. The pain caused the body to react without thinking and Dean’s grip was loosened enough for Sam’s other hand to grab the gun and turn it around on his brother.

“I’m sorry Sam.” Dean muttered, “I know I should have done more.”

“You’re pathetic Dean.” Sam mocked, aiming the gun for Dean’s head, “But I can help you. I can set you free.”

“I’m gonna haunt your arse until I stop you.” A vain attempt of a defence mechanism but that was all.

“You won’t even try.”

There was one loud bang that echoed through the trees in the park followed by a soft thump and then everything fell silent and Sam was left standing over yet another victim of tonight’s fun and games.

“Sam!” The strong protective voice of Dean broke into Sam’s nightmare and pulled him from its grips.

Sam was wrestling with the covers and with Dean but as soon as Dean repeated his name, he became perfectly still, realisation slowly dawning as he looked around and took in the motel room.

“Dean?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m right here.” Dean offered, “You okay?”

Sam shook his head lightly, unsure of the answer. What the hell had he just seen? The lingering headache told him it was more than just a dream, more than just a nightmare made of up his fears. Maybe coming to this place was a bad idea… what if they couldn’t stop what was going to happen? What if Sam shot… No... It wasn’t going to happen… It couldn’t… could it?

“Sammy man, you gotta let me in. Tell me what’s going through that mind of yours.” Dean implored, “Please.”

“I thought you hated chick flick moments.” Sam teased.

“You’re beginning to get more and more like me everyday and it’s scary.” He teased right back, “So stop avoiding the subject and tell me.”

“It was just a dream.”

“Pretty screwed up dream.”

“Yeah well, you know how it is.”

“Was it the girl again?”

“No… it had nothing to do with her.”

Dean ran a hand over his face and stood up; he took to pacing across the room and sending the occasional sparing glance at Sam. Sam took to staring at his hands, imagining them doing the unthinkable, imagining them holding that knife and slitting that girls throats, imagining them holding that gun and pulling the trigger. It would be dawn soon and he could tell that there was no way he could settle his brothers mind enough for him to go back to sleep… not unless he told him.

“Dean… I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dean asked exhaustedly.

“I… I should be able to fight it shouldn’t I?” Sam looked up from his hands and over to Dean who had now stopped pacing, “I have to try… I’m not gonna let it win.”

“Let what win?”

“The Demon… evil in general… it won’t control me.”

“I know that Sam, I know you won’t.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m just kidding myself?”

“Sam, stop it. I mean it! You’re not evil! You won’t turn evil! So just drop it, okay?”

When Sam just looked away and said nothing else, Dean cleared his throat and decided it was time for a slight subject change, “So this Hackworth Park… you got directions?”

“It’s near the centre of the town… shouldn’t be hard to spot ‘cause it’s nice and big.” Sam choked out.

“Right then, seen as we’re both awake let’s get to it. I’m claiming the hot water then I’ll get us some breakfast.”

Dean dug into his duffle bag for what he needed and disappeared behind the bathroom door no more then five minutes later, leaving Sam sitting alone on his bed, thoughts running through his head. He put his head in his hands and tried to focus on just breathing. Seeing himself kill a complete stranger was one thing but to see himself kill Dean… that was just wrong.

He’d already hurt his brother so many times, when he left for Stanford, when Dr. Ellicott tampered with his mind, when that damn Meg had possessed him… it was becoming a habit and he was afraid that the next time, Dean might not be so lucky. Besides, how much more could Dean take? How many more times could he get gunned down by the one he loves before he snaps and guns Sam down right back or just loses it and breaks?

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Dean.” Sam whispered, he could feel the burning sting of tears behind his closed eyelids but he refused to let the tears fall, “I just don’t know what to do to protect you.”

“Protect who?” Dean asked as he exited the bathroom, a towel hugging his hips loosely and revealing a still moist and slightly tense upper half. He hadn’t meant to but he’d just managed to catch Sam’s last few words.

“It’s nothing.” Sam answered, or rather, avoided answering. He slipped past Dean and into the bathroom without even sparing Dean a glance.

Dean turned around in time to see the bathroom door close in his face, “Dude? Did I say something?”

With no reply to his question, Dean waved his hand dismissively at the door and growled, turning his attention to getting dressed and putting the ‘talk to Sammy about his attitude problem’ on the never ending to do list.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Neither brother spent too long in the shower, but over half an hour later when Dean had returned with breakfast and coffee, Sam was still nowhere to be seen and he could still hear the water running. It would probably be nearing freezing cold by now but Dean guessed Sammy probably needed the time to think and prepare himself for the onslaught of Dean that both of them knew was coming.

“Hey! Merman, grubs up!” Dean knocked on the door and only moved away when he heard a grumbled reply and the water stopped running.

Within minutes Sam was out the bathroom and moving towards his bed where he could get dressed. He still seemed reluctant to meet Dean’s eyes and he knew he shouldn’t be angry, but Dean felt his temper rising.

“Seriously, have I done something? Or said something?” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them as he watched Sam sit down at the table and picking up some food without even saying a word.

And he still didn’t reply.

“Damn it Sam! Talk to me!” He demanded.

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re not hiding anything are you?” The sarcasm was laid on so thick that it felt almost like a punch.

“Dean… please.” And Sam actually looked Dean straight in the eye, pleading with all his might.

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but this silent treatment crap has got to stop, got it?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Screwed up, confused… yeah, I got that.” Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and pulled his car keys out, “Hurry up and finish that, we need to check this park out.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Frustrated Unnoticed

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The black ’67 Chevy Impala pulled up neatly opposite the park and its two occupants sat quietly for a moment before the eldest cleared his throat and creaked the door open. The youngest though still sat in the car staring at his hands.

“Sammy, you coming?” Dean asked as he climbed out.

“Yeah…” Sam nodded, opening his door now and climbing out with less speed and less enthusiasm than his brother, “Dean…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this. Maybe we should just turn around and get the hell out of here before anything has the chance to happen.”

“If that’s how you feel…” Dean said, stopping in his tracks to look at his brother.

“You mean you would? Even if it meant running away from someone who might need our help?” Sam turned and looked his brother up and down, studying him.

“Well when you put it that way…” Dean joked but then his tone turned serious, “You know I’d do anything for you Sammy.”

“I know.” Sam smiled slightly, though the knot of guilt in his stomach tightened just that little bit more as he remembered the nightmare.

“Right then…” Dean set off again, clamping his hand on his brother’s shoulder and spinning him around so they were walking towards the park again, “Let see if this park has any freaky deaky stuff going on.”

He pulled his EMF metre out of his pocket and looked around at the almost empty park. It was large and littered with trees and though he didn’t have a clear view from where he was standing, he could tell that it was extremely quiet, the only noises belonging to nature. There was a couple walking hand in hand down one of the paths, smiling and laughing. There was a man in a yellow jacket with one of those long grabby sticks for picking up litter and either he was a really quick worker or their wasn’t much to work with because it seemed to Dean that the people in this town really seemed to respect this place.

“You know what… I’m starting to think maybe pod people or aliens…”

Sam nodded slightly, only barely listening to Dean. He wondered if Dean even realised he was going the exact same way that the girl had gone in his dream but how could he…? Only Sam had seen her do it. He just hoped that this wasn’t meant to be some sort of freaky foreshadowing because that would just suck.

“It would make sense you know… that maybe someone died violently and you were being influenced. I mean, you have got that whole psychic medium thing going on.”

“I have visions Dean, not conversations with the dead.” I also have the occasional outburst of telekinesis but that’s not important.

“Hey just saying ‘cause I still find it hard to believe that you would go all evil and kill someone.”

Sam didn’t reply, his eyes just scanned the area they were walking in. This wasn’t the spot, not yet… several more feet and then… yeah… this was where it happened.

“Dean…” Sam stopped dead in his tracks, “This is it. We’re here.”

Dean stared down at his EMF metre and looked around silently, hoping for any signs of supernatural activity. But everything was just normal. There were no readings, no unusual traces on the ground, no weird noises… nothing.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes momentarily, remembering the vision and the dream and when he opened them again he glanced around and nodded numbly, “Yeah, this is definitely the place.”

“Well, I hate to say it but it’s clean. Can’t be sure about the rest of the park but this area… definitely clean.”

“So that means it was me… it was all me…” Though the way dream Dean had looked at him had already told him as much.

“I never said that. Who’s to say something freaky didn’t happen somewhere else in the park… or even the town?”

“You know… the longer we stay here the more chance there is of this thing happening.”

“So you wanna skip towns then?”

“I don’t know what I wanna do.” Sam snarled and turned away from his brother, moodily stalking towards the exit of the park.

“Sammy!” Dean called after him, sending up silent prayers that went something like ‘Oh Lord give me freaking strength before I strangle this guy!’, “Sam!”

Sam just kept stalking though, he knew Dean would catch up with him if he really wanted to speak and sure enough, in a matter of seconds Dean was by his side.

“What have I done Sam?” He asked, eyes pleading, “I’m sorry. I’m trying here, I really am and I swear, if it’s the last thing I do – I am gonna save your ass or haunt it trying.”

“Don’t say that!” Sam snapped, remembering dream Dean’s words, “Just don’t say that!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded, “Say what?”

“Any of it. It’s not your fault, you haven’t done anything. And I swear to God Dean, I wish you’d stop treating death like it’s just some kind of joke. It’s not fair! I can’t loose you!”

Now Dean stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing, “You’re not gonna loose me. Unless you’re not telling me something.”

Sam stopped to and looked towards his brother, his lips moved but were unable to form actual words. He wanted to tell Dean but he was afraid, afraid of how Dean would react and afraid that it would happen.

“Just drop it.” He muttered and turned away again, walking slower this time.

“No. I won’t because you’re my brother and whatever this is… it’s obviously eating away at you.” Dean sped up and caught Sam by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him.

Sam instinctively knocked Dean’s hand off his shoulder and immediately felt embarrassed by it, “That dream I had this morning… I… Dean I killed you.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded his head numbly, “This is what’s been tearing you apart since this morning? You killing me?”

“Yeah…”

“Well that’s just stupid.” Dean shrugged and smirked, setting off walking again and nudging his brother with his elbow as he passed him, indicating for him to do the same.

“What? Dean… didn’t you just hear what I told you? I killed you!”

“It was a dream.”

“It wasn’t! It was more than that.” Sam followed Dean, making sure he was a step behind all the way, “It was like a follow on from the vision.”

“See… even if it was more than a dream… it’s still stupid.”

“And why’s that?”

Dean turned his head over his shoulder and Sam couldn’t tell whether the smirk plastered on his face was real or fake, “Because every time you’ve tried killing me in the past you’ve done a damn bad job of it. I mean come on! You shot me with rock salt and sent me flying through a door and I still kicked your arse, same goes for when you shot me in the shoulder and I fell into the water… which by the way, you owe me a new shirt for that one… Hell, even that shape shifter got the upper hand on you when he was pretending to be me. Face it Sam, you wouldn’t be able to kill me.”

Sam sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, “You’re a jerk, you know that right?”

“Yeah well, you’re my bitch.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He had his strategy all planned out. Everything was going perfectly! Everything was going the way he had planned it! Sam was beginning to doubt himself and was beginning to see himself as a threat towards his brother… but damn it! He’d interfered again! Dean just wasn’t playing the way he was supposed to be playing!

Dean was a guy’s guy! He was the kind of guy that was supposed to drop a subject when someone said leave it because he hated heart to hearts and emotional moments… so why the hell was he being so damn understanding and so damn comforting!

Rage sparked behind yellow eyes and he watched from his host, shadows hiding his body and that of young girl whose neck had been twisted and snapped so easily… just like a twig. Her lifeless eyes stare out into the bright park and the Demon could hear her boyfriend screaming silently, locked within his body, unable to do anything.

“Damn you.” His voice whispered, “Abomination.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Falling Down

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(4 Days Ago)

After the whole chick flick moment at the park, Dean was refusing to do anymore ‘talking’ because well, it’s just not what he did or at least not what he wanted to admit to doing. So instead, they were researching, again something that Dean would probably not admit to doing but he’d take credit for it anyway, especially if he’d done a good enough job but he would really tell anyone who would listen that Sammy was the geek boy in the family – Sam had translated this years ago into it’s deeper meaning that went something like ‘Sam’s the book smart one and I’m proud of him for it’.

They were researching the town as a whole though they were mainly focused on the park and finding the girl from Sam’s vision, after all maybe she was the key. Sam had described her as taller than most girls he’d met but shorter than Dean so maybe 5’8” or 5’9” with light brown hair, probably about shoulder length. She was slim but athletic or at least he’d gathered as much by the way she ran. If he had to guess an age, which he hated doing especially with girls because they always got offended, he’d guess somewhere between 21 and 24 years old so far too young to die the way she had.

With only having one laptop but two researchers, Dean had decided to grab some food for the pair of them and leave Sam to it; after all if Sam came across a photo, he’d know what or who he was looking for. That was over half a day ago, now with a new day starting Sam decided he was sick of being the only one researching and the only way to calm him down was to take ‘the geek boy to the nice dusty library for a day out’ or at least that’s how Dean put it just before having to quickly roll off his bed and away from the pillow that was aimed directly at his head.

Half an hour after settling down at the library’s computers and sitting back to back, Dean started making clicking noises with his tongue and was tapping his fingers against the desk whilst staring at the screen. Maybe it was out of annoyance or maybe it was because of the evil glares they were receiving from the librarian, what ever the reason was, Sam turned around away from his computer and slapped Dean across the back of his head – not surprised that he enjoyed hearing the muffled and somewhat forced ‘ow’ that came from his brother.

“What the hell was that for?” Dean groaned, spinning around to face his brother.

“Well for one, you’re about two minutes away from getting us kicked out of here.”

“And for two?”

“I felt like it because you’re annoying me.”

“Yeah well, just see what you get next time you’re spouting nerd logic and annoying me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and looked back at his computer screen. Okay, so he’d done about a days worth of research on this park so far and had come up with absolutely nothing except for a couple of muggings and a few trees planted in memory of some people who died of old age. He tried not to get frustrated and impatient but he could help but feel that there was a time limit and that their time was quickly running out.

The dim lights and lack of caffeine in his system weren’t helping to keep him away, neither was the gentle and soothing buzz of the computers or the warm and dusky air. However, luckily he caught his head before it collided loudly with the keyboard, eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area and the reflection in his monitor to see if anyone had noticed, or more specifically, if Sam had noticed. But God… he was so bored! Couldn’t they do this outside in the sun with the cool breeze for once? At least that might make it a little more interesting… or at least a little more comfortable.

“Find anything?” He heard Sam ask.

Quickly glancing at his screen to confirm that he hadn’t found anything, he shook his head in replied and mumbled, “Nothing, you?”

“Well Mr Tibbles took a tumble from a tree and broke his neck about a month ago but I don’t think that has anything to do with what we’re looking for.”

“Mr Who?”

“Tibbles… a cat Dean, a Persian White if you must know.”

“Oh, right. So unless we’ve got something with a serious dislike of cats… yeah, I get you.”

And they returned to silence for mere moments before Dean scoffed and turned in his seat again, “Dude, who names their cat Mr Tibbles?”

At this remark he couldn’t help but noticed the hardened glare he received from the librarian whose expression was fast becoming a scowl, eyes flaring with anger and sadness.

Sam smirked and glanced between the librarian and Dean, “Well according to the article, Ms Libby Hardwater who runs the local library was devastated about her recent loss.”

Dean took a single deep breath and made sure to avoid eye contact with Ms Hardwater, the librarian, for the rest of their time in the library and upon leaving at five o’clock, when she loudly declared right next to Dean’s ear that it was closing time and she wanted to get home, he mumbled something that may have been an apology or his condolences or possibly even an insult, not that she paid much attention him except to glare.

“And that was a giant waste of time.” Sam sighed, climbing into the Impala.

“Yeah well, maybe we should start looking deeper into places that library computers can’t reach.”

“You mean hack.”

Dean merely smirked in reply and turned the ignition, setting off towards some place that would sell fast food that they could take back to the motel room. Turned out the nearest place was ‘Pizza Palace’ and Sam and Dean were both thankful that though it looked nothing like a palace, it did at least look sanitary. So a classic margarita for Sam and a meat feast for Dean with extra special toppings, ever the adventurous one – he’d find out in the morning when he brought the whole thing back up what a mistake it was though.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(Present Day)

Sam found himself growling as he watched the demon still kneeling next to his brother, still touching his brother whilst he was forced to just watch and try to fight against the invisible binds. If it wasn’t for all the anger that just kept flaring up in his system, he’d have been begging to be released so he could see to Dean.

But he was stronger than that but that meant he wasn’t likely to get what he wanted. What he did want was to be looking over Dean for any fatal injuries, not staring from a distance whilst the demon examined the unconscious form. Dean’s clothes were scorched and burned in places but miraculously, like his skin, they were still reasonably intact. The lower left leg of his denim jeans had been completed torched, as had most of the right leg, slightly revealing semi scorched boxers. His over shirt was nothing more than a tattered black shawl and the shirt underneath contained several holes where the flames had burned. Whatever the hell had kept Dean from burning to a crisp had somehow allowed him to keep some dignity.

“How?” The demon asked, laying a hand on a part of revealed flesh, it felt just like any other bit of flesh and yet the fire did nothing to it. From his finger tips he felt flames emerging as he tested what he’d just seen up close. Pain flared across Dean’s face in the form of a grimace but he didn’t wake… and the skin didn’t burn. The material of the shirt withered slightly until the demon pulled away.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Sam shouted, pulling his head forward in yet another attempt to escape, only to have it crash back against the wall.

“I was just making sure it wasn’t some fluke.” The demon grinned and lifted himself slightly, wrapping his hand around Dean’s collar and forcing him up from the ground as well.

“Just please! Leave him alone!” Sam pleaded, “He’s nothing to you! Leave him out of this.”

“It’s a little too late now Sammy boy. He’s got something that humans aren’t supposed to have and I want to know why.” The Demon smirked and dropped Dean back down before turning back to Sam, “You can sleep now though, don’t worry.”

And before Sam could object or curse, his world faded to black and he was only slightly aware of his body falling to a lump on the floor.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Feel Bad Vibe

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(3 days ago)

Okay, so the first few dreams weren’t helping much, at least not when Dean wasn’t playing by the rules. Maybe this meant more direct actions were needed, playing deeper on Sam’s fears. Get right into his head and cancel out the words Dean had said to him – make it everything seem worse.

And if this plan didn’t work then he would be forced to take more drastic measures, if he was forced into this he would certainly make them enjoyable though. After all, he needed a little entertainment and past experience taught him that a Winchesters cry of pain was definite source of pleasure.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tossing and turning in his sleep was a regular routine for Sam. Some nights Dean might wake him, and others Dean might let him be. Nights when the gentle grunts and groans of Sam dreaming didn’t wake Dean, he had no choice but to let him be. So Sammy lay tossing and turning and grunting and groaning in a far from blissful dream whilst Dean lay dead to the world in the bed next to him. The dream seemed to start in the same place the last one was left and if possible, everything felt even more real, probably because now they’d actually been the park it made everything that little more personal

Everything was so quiet; all that could be heard was the breeze rustling through the leaves on the trees. Sam stared down in front of him and an audible gasp escaped his lips.

“Dean!” he called and knelt down next to his fallen brother but he already knew he was too late. Dean was dead – he’d killed him.

“See what you’ve done?” A voice asked from behind and Sam twisted round to stare at the man walking up to him, “Is that really what you want to happen to your brother? Is that really what he deserves after all these years he’s protected you?”

Sam just stared at the man in numb horror, unable to respond.

“Ever since he carried you out of that burning house he made it his job to save you from everything. And you just go ahead and shoot him. How many times is that now?”

Sam shook his head in disbelief, not wanting to hear these words.

The man grew angry, “How many times Sammy? How many times have you shot me? Tried to kill me? When all I ever did was protect you!”

“Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know…”

“You don’t know what?” The Dean in front of him spat the words out.

“I don’t know how it ended up like this and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.” Sam closed his eyes, his breathing had speeded up and his mind was racing.

“Yes you do. You’ve done it once already. You didn’t even do it for me then, you did it for your selfish self.”

Sam opened his eyes and stared up in confusion.

“Leave. Go back to Stanford and your ‘normal’ life. I’m not safe with you around and you know it. Yet now you refuse to leave, refuse to save me after I’ve saved you so many times.”

“But it’d kill you…” Sam protested, “Leaving you alone… abandoning you… it’s kill you.”

“And you’ll kill me if you don’t!”

Sam stood up and turned away, “I can’t Dean, please don’t make me.”

Facing in the opposite direction meant Sam couldn’t see this Dean’s eyes flash yellow, “You’re only going to hurt me Sammy. You have to leave. Just once do something for me.”

When Sam span back round to beg once more, his brother no longer stood their but an unfamiliar man with yellow eyes. “Listen to him Sammy; you’ll only hurt him if you stay.”

Sam gritted his teeth, ready to tell this demon exactly where to go but then he felt a hand wrap itself around his ankle and heard a weak voice calling his name. He looked down to stare at the dead Dean whose glazed hazel eyes stared back up at him and with blood gently dripping from the corners of his mouth he called his brothers name once more, only this time stronger.

“Sammy!”

The rough hand that was shaking him let go as soon as he opened his eyes and looked around at his surroundings. He was in the motel room and Dean, completely not dead, was leaning over him and watching with concern.

“Maybe we should start drugging you up so you stop dreaming so damn much.”

“Maybe.” Sam agreed mildly, pulling himself into a sitting position.

Dean dropped onto the bed so he was sitting beside him and his eyes never lost that concerned look, “What was it this time?”

“I…” Sam started, not wanting to finish.

“Oh come on, spill. It can’t be nearly half as bad as you killing me.”

Sam dropped his head, “You were telling me to leave, that it was the only way to stop me from killing you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Tell me you’re not gonna start listening to dream me when you don’t even listen to the real me?”

Sam smirked, “Even in my dreams your ideas are stupid.”

“Don’t blame that idea on me, that’s your subconscious fears not me.”

“Subconscious fears? Since when did you read Freud?” Sam’s smiled faded though as he gazed off to his right, “No… I don’t think it was either. There was a man with yellow eyes… He told me to listen to you.”

Dean growled slightly, “That bastard. What’s he trying to do?”

“I dunno but the vision, these dreams… he’s planning something.”

“Oh God.” Dean gasped, leaning forward slightly, one arm hugging his midsection whilst his free hand went up to his mouth.

“Dean! What’s wrong?” Sam’s eyes widened as he reached over to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean moved quickly from his reach though, mumbling something like ‘Gonna heave’ before rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door closed. Sam pulled himself from his bed and wandered over to the bathroom door, gently knocking. The only reply was the sickening sound of Dean throwing up.

When he emerged half an hour he dropped back down onto his bed looking like he wanted to stay there for the next few days, Sam could barely keep the smirk from his face, “I told you to just get pepperoni.”

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled, rolling onto his front and shoving his face into his pillow.

Sam stared down at his brother, he didn’t want to admit it to Dean but deep down inside he was beginning to wonder if maybe it would be better if he just left, then maybe Dean would live. He’d be pissed sure and he’d be hurt but he’d be alive. It wasn’t a good enough reason though and he knew, besides Dean being the stubborn ass he is, he’d just find some way to track him down and when he did, he’d give Sam hell for leaving him and being so stupid.

“Stop staring.” Dean muttered, causing Sam to jump from his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes and looked at his brother suspiciously; he always managed to do that. Ever since they were kids and Sam would just stare at the back of his head when Dean sat up front in the car with their Dad or when he would watch Dean when he thought he was asleep… Dean always seemed to know though, “I can feel your eyes burning a hole in my head, stop it and go grab a shower ‘cause you stink.”

Dean smirked into his pillow as he imagined Sam rolling his eyes and heard the bathroom door close. He just knew Sammy far too well, recognised those moments when everything was completely still in the room because Sam was lost in his thoughts and sometimes that meant staring at Dean as he worried and fussed.

“Save me some hot water!” Dean called; lifting his head only slightly before groaning again and hoping Sam didn’t lock the door just in case there was something left to throw up.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Father and Son

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

By the time Sam pulled himself away from the relaxing rush of water that eased his heavy mind, he found that Dean had fallen back to sleep. A quick glance at the time and Sam knew he couldn’t blame him. The first light of day began to filter in through a gap in the dark curtains and Sam found himself tugging on some jeans and a shirt before disappearing out the door.

Sam used to love watching sunrises. He remembered sneaking out when he was a kid and he thought his Dad and Dean were sleeping. He used to always find the perfect spot, even if it meant climbing onto the roof of some building. He’d sit there and just watch, hugging his knees in a vain attempt at trying to keep warm. It was always worth it, seeing those colours slowly spread across the sky and that one magnificent glowing orb that signified the start of a new day.

His Dad had found him several times and every time he did, he’d join Sam silently and they’d watch together. No words were exchanged because no words were needed. Occasionally they’d share a look that spoke far louder than any word, a little smile was exchanged between the two and when the sun was fully up, they’d both return to the room or apartment they were staying in where his Dad would have a go at making breakfast and Sam would go and wake Dean.

But those special moments between him and his father were few and far between. When he’d left for Stanford, he used to wake early without even trying and ended up taking a cooling walk, watching the sun as he went. Jess joined him once or twice, she said she found it very romantic but by the time they got back, she just wanted to crawl back into bed. The last sunrise he’d watched had been back with Madison… waiting for that moment of truth that never came because the lie and curse was too thick. If he’d seen any sunrises since then, he hadn’t paid them any attention. Memories still too painful - his Dad, his Jess and now Madison.

“What you doing out here?” A warm and strong voice broke through his thoughts. He turned to look at his brother.

“Just thinking.” Sam replied simply and Dean took a seat next to him.

“Dad used to do that.” Dean sighed, “Morning after you’d left… I found him outside the motel. Thinking. He thought a lot after you left… guess he missed those mornings you two thought I never knew about.”

Sam frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dean merely shrugged and turned away, watching the sun. Sam kept the frown on his face but did the same; he never saw the sad smile that crossed Dean’s lip or the silent flicker of jealousy that flashed for just a moment in his ever watchful eyes.

They sat in silence, just watching and thinking for a good half an hour before Dean groaned and stretched, pushing himself up and into a standing position. He began walking back to the motel and within seconds Sam was by his side, still wondering what Dean had meant.

“You wanna go to a diner or something for something to eat?” Sam suggested.

Dean grimaced and shook his head, “After throwing my guts up earlier… still don’t quite feel like eating. Hell, I may never eat again.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Sam mocked, gently laughing as Dean tried his best to put on an innocent face of confusion.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The majority of the day was spent in a similar fashion to last few days, researching. And just like the past few days, both brothers had yet to find anything. They deliberately avoided the library; Dean claimed he didn’t know when he was next going to throw up but Sam knew he just didn’t feel comfortable going anywhere near the librarian. So they took turns on the laptop instead and by one o’clock, Sam decided he could go no longer without food.

Dean still claimed he wasn’t hungry and said he’d stay with the laptop while Sam went out and got something to eat. That didn’t stop him eating the double cheeseburger and fries that Sam brought back for him nearly an hour later, along with a large soda.

“How’s it going?” Sam asked, finishing his own soda and throwing his rubbish in the bin at the other side of the room with a perfect aim.

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for.” Dean pushed the laptop away from him and placed his head on the table, “I’ve got a vague description of a girl that kinda sounds like at least a third of the girls that I’ve slept with and when it comes to that son of a bitch… I still don’t know what I’m looking for. I called the Roadhouse; line was busy so I guess we’ll just have to try again later.”

“You think Ash might have something?”

Dean shrugged, never raising his head from the spot on the table, “Maybe… maybe not. But if we at least know if he’s meant to be in town then that’s a start.”

“At least we know this has something to do with him.” Sam span the laptop around to see what Dean had been looking at. He looked at Dean from the corner of his eye and took a deep breath, “Dean… what did you mean earlier?”

“When earlier?” Dean asked, finally lifting his head.

“This morning – outside.”

Dean pulled a face and shrugged again and if Sam didn’t know Dean so well, he would have passed the gesture off as an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. Instead he knew it was an ‘I don’t want to talk about it and if you push me I’ll shut you out and close down.’. So Sam left it and glanced around the room in a bored manner, eyes landing on a worn and old picture of himself and Dean as kids with their Dad.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yellow eyes continued watching from the shadows, a smile passing cruel and twisted lips. Nature had done something that he could not. Nature had built an invisible wall between the boys. Memories were a tricky thing and so were emotions and when they mixed together painfully; the result could end up leaving a person vulnerable. He hadn’t thought much about it since that night at the cabin, but the look in Dean’s face when he’d told him how much John favoured Sam… the boy had wanted to deny it and sure, it wasn’t true but he knew that the boy felt like it was true and it was a fear he’d had for a long time. But he hadn’t thought about it much since then… not until now.

But those thoughts could wait. Right now he had an appointment with a slender 5’8” athletic beauty with almost golden brown hair and he intended to keep it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Female of the Species

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(2 days ago)

“Ash, finally!” Dean practically shouted down his cell. It was late morning… or was it early afternoon? Either way, Dean had been trying to get hold of the Roadhouse for the past few hours whilst Sam was once again on the laptop, “You got any news for us?”

Sam sat staring blankly at the laptop in front of him and listened half heartedly to the conversation between Dean and Ash… though he could only hear what Dean was saying – which wasn’t a whole lot at first. Sam guessed Ash was probably blabbering on or explaining something.

“So what does that mean?” Dean asked and Sam looked over at him, curiosity bubbling through him, “Right… well, call me back if anything else comes up.”

Sam watched his brother expectantly as Dean flipped his cell down and threw it gently onto the bed, “Well?”

“He caught a flicker somewhere near here but he couldn’t tell if it was just coincidence or whether it was a sign. He said he’s caught a few ‘flickers’ but nothing concrete...” Dean sighed, “So I have no freakin’ clue what that means.”

“I’m really not liking where this is going. The vision… the dreams… I have a really bad feeling. There’s nothing weird in this town…”

“Nothing yet.”

“Dean, what if it’s a trap?”

“Then we have to keep our guards up and be ready.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Time passed insanely slow as both boys continued coming up with sweet F.A.. Instead of just sitting around watching Sam on the laptop, Dean decided to do something more productive and clean some guns but boredom was already setting in and everyone who knew Dean Winchester knew that when Dean Winchester was bored – he could be downright annoying.

It started quietly at first, not so annoying but the persistence of it was really beginning to grate on his last nerve. He glanced at Dean and stared hard but Dean, completely oblivious to the death glare he was receiving, just kept softly clicking his tongue.

“Deeaaan…” Sam hissed out a warning but Dean still seemed to be oblivious, he looked up at Sam but when Sam only glared, he returned to the gun he was currently cleaning in his hands and if anything – the clicking got louder,

Sam couldn’t take it anymore, too annoyed to play nicely, “For God’s sake Dean!”

“What?” Dean asked innocently, and he truly looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“Stop it. Just stop it. Please.”

But Sam’s frustration always seemed to amuse Dean for some unknown reason and Dean’s ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ look turned into a not so innocent devilish grin and he said those ever so childish and provoking words, “Stop what?”

“The clicking! The Goddamn clicking! You are driving me nuts!”

“Well I’m bored.”

“Dude, seriously, how old are you?”

Dean’s grin grew wider and he held up his middle finger in Sam’s direction, “This many.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, silently begging for strength and loudly begging for Dean to just shut up and stop acting like an immature jerk.

“But you love me.” Dean teased in reply.

“Says who?”

“Says you.”

“Yeah well, I’ll put that on your gravestone ‘cause if you click your tongue one more time – I will rip it out and lynch you with it.”

Dean frowned at Sam and opened his mouth for a second or two before closing it again, deciding what to say, “Is that even possible?”

Sam simply shot him a look that just dared him to find out.

Dean sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, “What time is it?”

“You have a watch.” Sam stated but that didn’t stop him from answering, “Nearly half seven.”

“Half seven, eh?” Dean looked over at his brother, “You hungry?”

Sam smiled and nodded, “A little.”

“Me too and it’s my turn to get food... beside, geek boy’s better off in front of the computer.” Dean smirked and jumped off the bed, leaving the gun abandoned on the covers.

“Pizza?” Sam asked, receiving a very similar death glare to the one he had been sending Dean earlier, “Hey, not my fault you chose the ‘special’.”

“Burgers.” Dean said flatly and the debate was closed. Dean picked his keys up from the table and chucked them gently up into the air, catching them neatly before heading out the door and towards the Impala.

It wasn’t long before he found himself parking up outside what looked liked possibly the same burger joint Sam had paid a visit to the day before. He slid neatly out of his baby and locked the doors behind him, going through his order list in his mind. Double cheeseburger, large fries and soda… and what about Sammy? Salad? Nah, kid needs some meat on his bones.

He strolled up to the doors, eyes falling on the young hot thing walking up from the other side, denim shorts hugging at her hips and a fitted tank top showing off her slender curves. He flashed a smile and opened the door, gesturing for her to go first. She smiled back and manoeuvred around him and through the door, bodies coming dangerously close to rubbing together. He caught a whiff off her shampoo as she flicked her hair out of her eyes so she could look him up and down as she passed.

He paused a moment and rushed in after her, catching up to her with no effort, a flirtatious and confident grin spreading across his face, “Were you just checking me out?”

“Not like you weren’t doing the same.” Her grin was almost enough to rival his, “Besides, I’m allowed to appreciate fine packaging when I see it.”

“Straight to the chat up lines… you work fast don’t you?” He teased.

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh forgive me if I’m wrong but you were the one who spoke to me first.”

“So I was.”

Dean hadn’t even realised they had both stopped walking, standing facing each other in the middle of the floor. Her eyes were locked on him and he found he couldn’t tear his own away from her. The task at hand forgotten as he stared towards the fine example of this female of the species, the witch whose spell he’d fallen under.

She put her hand on the back of his head and leant in close, whispering softly in his ear, “He’s got special plans for you Dean and he’s gonna make little Sammy watch the whole thing.”

Like a shock to the system, he woke from his daze and found those beautiful lusty eyes before him filled with maliciousness and hunger. He ground his teeth together and tried to pull himself away but her fingers somehow managed to wrap themselves tightly around his short hair and he felt paralysed, he glared at her and felt his hand moving up to wrap around her waist, “You bitch… what have you done to me?”

“It’s my gift… how does it feel to have no control over your body?”

“I’m going to kill you.” He hissed, “And I’m gonna find that yellow eyed bastard and kill him too.”

“No you’re not. You’re going to come with me and everyone around us is just gonna think we’re some hot young people who have hit it off and are off to fill our lustful needs unless you want to put their lives at risk.” She pulled herself up slightly onto her toes and placed a kiss on his lips, “Now come on lover boy.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam eyes glanced towards the time at the bottom of the screen before glancing at the door. It had been well over two hours since Dean had left and it didn’t take that long to get some food and bring it back. So what the hell was he playing at? He closed the laptop and reached for his phone, scrolling down the screen to Dean’s name, pressing the dial button and listening carefully as it rang. And it rang. And it rang.

And voicemail answered.

“Damn it Dean.” He growled into the phone, “What the hell are you doing? Look, just get your arse back here, okay?”

But Sam knew that the only times Dean didn’t answer his phone was when he was either tied up in trouble or with a girl. Sam just prayed that it was a girl.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Funkytown

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1 day ago)

“Dean! Answer this Goddamn phone or at least call me back! Please. It’s been nearly six hours. How long does it take to get food?” Sam sighed, “Please just be safe Dean.”

He hung up for what felt like the hundredth time and set the phone on the table, taking to pacing the room back and forth, back and forth and back and forth some more. He walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside; checking yet again for any sign of the familiar black car but there was nothing. There was an ugly little bug that reminded him far too much of his time as Meg’s host; it had pulled up near the motel owners cabin a few hours ago and there had been a pretty sleek sports car and after seeing who was in the passenger seat, Sam didn’t particularly want to think what the owner of that car was planning.

With a grunt, Sam spun on his heel and picked his phone up from the table and searched through his contacts, pausing at names like ‘Ellen’ and ‘Bobby’ before putting the phone back down and deciding that he was overreacting. After all, Dean had probably just seen a bar whilst driving and was having a few drinks; a few games of pool and flirting like normal. There was absolutely no reason to think Dean was in trouble, right?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She had taken him outside and told him to get into the drivers side of an ugly yellow bug, making him to drive the hideous thing giving. He felt his stomach turn as he recognised the streets she was directing him through, guiding him straight back to the motel he and Sam were staying in.

“What the hell are you playing at?” He’d growled at her but she had just smiled and squeezed his leg.

That was several hours ago… once they’d arrived at the motel she’d forced him out the car and through the door that lead into the motel owner’s cabin. She closed the door behind her and pulled him close, leaning in and kissing him hard on the lips. He wanted to push her away but she wouldn’t let him, the most he managed to do was bite her bottom lip hard which earned him a clawed cheek and a knee to the guts, winding him.

She grabbed hold of his chin as he bent over, trying to catch his breath, nails digging deep but not deep enough to wound, “Bad dog… I only wanted to play with you a bit before he came.”

“You’re a sick bitch.” He spat out at her, pulling his face away from her grip.

“No… just horny.” She smirked as she moved her hand up to cradle his bleeding cheek, “And you are just so damn sexy. You play nicely and I might ask if I can keep you.”

“Keep me? What the hell do you think I am? Just some kind of pet?”

“Might as well be… at least then you’d be of some use. I always wanted a pet, my mom never let me get one. She always said I was too young, too irresponsible. My brother had a hamster once… but I ‘corrected’ that. He was always Mom’s favourite… I ‘corrected’ that too. You should have seen her face… priceless.”

“For everything else there’s MasterCard.” Dean snarked, grimacing at her little tale.

She pulled her hand away and licked the blood from her fingers before leaning in and kissing him once more with still bloody lips, “You know all the right things to say.”

“Believe me… I’m not trying. I don’t want your filthy tongue in my mouth.”

“That’s not what you were thinking when you were checking me out.”

“Yeah well, didn’t know you were some demonic bitch.”

She slapped him hard across the face, the cuts stung and so did the skin around them.

“I see you’re having fun.” A voice echoed behind her and she span to face in, allowing Dean to stretch and roll his stiffened shoulders, “You can go.”

“But…” She protested, not wanting to leave her new toy.

“Go.” The voice demanded and she huffed, moving past Dean and sliding out the door.

As Dean took a step towards the door, towards escape, he knew he wouldn’t get far, especially when an invisible force grabbed hold of him and threw him hard into the wall at the other side of the room. His head slammed into the wooden floor as the force just let him fall and then the darkness came to claim him as he sunk into unconsciousness for God only knew how long. The ringing cell phone in his pocket went unanswered.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Thanks Bobby.” Sam sighed and hung up on his old friend. It was three in the morning and Sam was officially panicking.

He’d called Bobby, Ellen, the hospital and even the police but no one knew anything. Dean still refused to answer his cell and Sam was getting really tired of leaving messages that he knew would never be answered. He really wished Dean hadn’t taken the Impala ‘cause it was going to be a pain in the ass walking around town looking for his big brother but he’d do it none the less.

He argued with himself over whether or not he should get a few hours sleep before searching for Dean but when the really worried part of him started picturing Dean lying in a ditch, he instantly grabbed his coat and ran out of the motel room and with a quick pace, set off towards town. His first stops would be the food places and sure, pretty much all of them were closed but it was some place to start.

After a couple of hours of walking, Sam came across a sight that caused his heart to beat erratically and made him break out into a run. The wonderful, beautiful, glorious Impala sat just outside the burger place Sam had visited before… so good news – Dean must have been here and bad news – he wasn’t here anymore and the place was closed so he couldn’t ask any questions.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Everything hurt but especially his head. He groaned as consciousness snuck back upon him, taking him by surprise and reminding him of every painful sore on his body. He became aware that he was lying down on a hard surface, probably just been left on the floor where he’d fallen. He was also aware of the presence nearby, like a shadow watching him. His eyelids fluttered open and he took a lung full of air which made him roll onto his side to cough up blood.

“Ahh, glad to see you finally joining the party Deano.” The shadow spoke to him and he managed to look over at the source – a man sat in a simple wooden chair, his feet raised and placed on the simple wooden table in front of him, “Got me thinking you’d never wake up.”

Dean rolled further onto his front of pushed himself up so he was kneeling, his eyes glanced around the room and he noticed how dark it was. Thick curtains were drawn over the only small window that existed in the room and it was only by the small amount of natural light that flickered in through the bottom of the door that he guessed it was daytime. Other than that, there was a small lamp on the simple wooden table.

“Not like I had a choice.” He spat at the man, hazel green eyes staring into a cold hard yellow pair.

“Amii has that effect on people. Irresistible, isn’t she? Bet you’d just love a piece of that.”

“I can think of a lot of other things I’d rather do to her.”

The demon in front of him made a clicking noise and threw his feet off the table, moving into a standing position and walking towards Dean, “’Fraid you won’t get the chance. Not after what I’ve got planned for you.”

With a flick of yellow eyes, Dean was up and forced against the wall and no matter how much he tried to fight it, there was no getting down, “I’m going to kill you.”

“That’s where you wrong. I am going to kill you. Not yet though – wouldn’t want that little brother of yours to miss the show.” The demon looked Dean up and down with a wicked smile on his face, “So until then, I guess we just have to try and pass the time.”

And with that, the pain started. It wasn’t like the last time – the demon wasn’t trying to kill him like then, just putting him through so much pain that Dean would wish to die. Like venom and lava flowing through his veins, burning him up from the inside, sending sharp piercing electric pulses through every fibre in his body and soul. He bit down hard trying not to scream, making his bottom lip bleed but it became too much, every memory of each laceration and bruise and broken or sprained bone he’d ever received was felt again in full force and there was no stopping it.

He cried out and part of him prayed for Sam to hear, for him to come save the day. But no one came so instead he prayed for the pain to stop… and eventually when the darkness came to retake him – the pain was gone.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam had managed to get into the Impala and had been driving around town for several hours before returning to the burger joint to ask a few questions. He’d introduced himself and asked if anyone matching his brother’s description had come in last night. All hope left him as he was told that no one knew anything but that was before he was told that Janine from the night shift was due in around eight o’clock. It was one of the best leads he’d had all day.

So he checked the time and ordered a coffee, it wasn’t long before fatigue caught up with him and as he rested he head against the table, he was asleep in minutes. An hour or so later a waitress came up to him and gently shook him, he woke slowly and turned a bleary eye on her.

“Excuse me sir, but are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah… sorry. Just really tired I guess.” He yawned.

“You’re the one waiting for Janine aren’t you?”

He merely nodded in reply.

“Well, why don’t you give me your number or the number of the place you’re staying and I’ll give you a call when she comes in. You obviously need some sleep.” She pulled out a pad and a pen, readying herself to write down the number.

He couldn’t hold back that second yawn and covered his mouth with his hands, “I guess I’ll be no use to my brother if I’d dead on my feet, will I?”

“No sir.” She smiled sympathetically and wrote down the number he gave her.

Eight o’clock came and the sleeping form of Sam was woken by his phone and when he answered, the voice of the kind waitress came over the line, telling him that Janine was in. She offered to pass the phone over but Sam declined, saying how he might somehow remind her of his brother. The drive didn’t take long and when he arrived at the place, a middle-aged redhead was expecting him. He ordered another coffee and she took her break as soon as she could so she could talk to the young sweetheart with a missing brother.

She nodded immediately when she walked over to him and indicated the Impala sitting outside, “If you’re on about the guy I think you are, you look very much alike… and yet so different. Good looking pair of brothers if you don’t mind me saying.”

“So you saw him?” Sam enquired.

“Yeah, cruised up in that sleek black car same as you and followed a young lady inside. He’s quite a player that brother of yours.” She smiled and took a seat in front of Sam.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, they weren’t even in here five minutes before they left together - didn’t even make it to the counter. They took her car, not much to look at – really ugly little thing. Shouldn’t have left his car… anything could have happened to it. I take it you got a spare set of keys though?”

Sam smiled to himself and nodded, “Yeah, spare set. So err, besides from being ugly, you know anything else about her car?”

“I guess it was a kind of yellow colour. Definitely a bug, I can tell you that much.”

“A yellow bug?” Sam’s throat tightened – it had to be a coincidence.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was.”

Sam stood up and pulled a few notes from his pocket, placing them on the table in front of him, “Thank you so much. I have an idea of where to look next so thank you.”

He practically ran to the car and drove like a mad man back towards the motel, having to slow down only once when he passed a cop car. Once back at the motel, his eyes immediately fell on the yellow bug by the manager’s cabin and he cursed the nerve of whoever had taken his brother. He was still slightly praying that he would burst through the door to find his brother quite happy in the company of a nice young lady – but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He didn’t even have a plan. He just armed himself and stalked over to cabin, growling under his breath. He thought about knocking but he didn’t want to be so obvious, so he tried the handle and to his surprise the door opened. Warily he stepped over the threshold and glanced around the small room.

“Dean!” He cried out, rushing towards his unconscious brother lying on the floor, “Come on bro, wake up.”

He checked his vitals quickly and was so wrapped up in concern that he didn’t noticed the man step out from the shadows, “Hello Sammy.”

Sam turned his head so fast to face the voice that he was sure he’d end up with whiplash, “You!”

“Me.” The man snarled and then Sam was thrown against the wall by that familiar invisible force. His eyes stared hard and deep into Sam’s and when he spoke, Sam had to turn away, “You’ve only got yourself to blame. Only got him to blame. He didn’t have to get hurt, if he just left, if you just left, he would be fine but now… I’m gonna make you watch him burn. Just like your mommy did, just like pretty little Jess.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Filthy and Gorgeous

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(Present Day)

“DEAN!” As consciousness came back to Sammy, so did the memories and the feeling of complete and utter horror and despair. He’d watched that thing burn his brother, he’d watched the fire rage, and he’d seen it tear across the ceiling turning it to ash. He breathed heavily, trying to regain control as he remembered that no, Dean hadn’t burned. Dean had somehow survived but he didn’t even get the chance to check his vitals before that evil yellow eyed son of a bitch had knocked him out somehow.

“Dean!” He repeated his cry, blurred vision desperately trying to focus as he looked around. He didn’t know where the hell he was but he definitely wasn’t in the manager’s hut anymore.

He heard a grumble from somewhere in front of him and blinked a few times until he could make out the weary form of Dean, slumped against the opposite wall, clothes still tattered and skin covered with filth and ash, his hands shackled above his head – that’s when Sam realised he was in a similar position.

“Come on bro, wake up. Please.” Sam pleaded whilst pulling at the shackles.

“Sammy?” Dean groaned, lifting his head a little to stare at Sam with unfocused eyes.

“That’s it. Come on, stay awake.”

“Dude – you suck at rescues.” Dean managed to mumble out, eyes searching Sam for any prominent injuries whilst trying to obey his brother and stay awake.

Sam laughed and nodded, “Well you suck at dying apparently.”

“What can I say? God thinks I’m too hot and Satan’s scared if I go downstairs I’ll be running the place in less than a day.” Dean tried his best to grin but it turned out more as a grimace. The longer he stayed conscious the more he recalled, getting trapped by that bitch, getting tortured by that bastard and then the burning, oh God, that had hurt like hell… he was so sure he was going to die. Wait a minute…

“Sammy, why aren’t I dead?” He asked, confusion rippling through each word.

Sam tugged at the shackles again, causing them to rattle noisily, “I dunno Dean. I mean, the fire… but… you just… you didn’t… you wouldn’t burn.”

“It felt like I was burning…” Dean grumbled, yeah – it had definitely felt like he was burning.

Sam bit his lip and pulled even harder, he remembered Dean’s screams, each one filled with so much pain and emotion. He just wanted to be by Dean’s side, making sure he was okay but it just wasn’t normal to go through all that and not have ‘side effects’.

“Sammy…” Dean coughed gently, clearing his throat and indicating a change of subject, “Where are we?”

“I don’t know - some old warehouse by the looks of it.” Sam replied, taking another look at their surroundings.

“And the demon?” He felt his eyes getting heavy again, it was so hard to keep them open.

“I wish I knew.” Sam sighed and looked over at Dean, “Dean! Wake up! Don’t you dare fall asleep! Please.”

“I’m awake. I swear Sam, I was just resting my eyes.” His head snapped back up, “Just kinda tired at the mo’ bro.”

“I know but please… how ‘bout you see if you can get loose?”

Dean lifted his head gently upwards to stare at his shackled hands and frowned, “Huh, would you look at that? I didn’t even notice.”

He tugged at them but all they did was rattle like Sam’s had, they held him firmly in place and he groaned before letting the back of his head bang against the wall. Pain shot through his already painfully throbbing features, “This sucks.”

Sam could only nod in agreement, a lump forming in his throat as he watched his brother, pain so evidently etched into his face, and he wished that he could get him out and make it stop.

Shortly after silence settled in and the brothers seemed to disappear into their own deep thoughts, their heads were raised and turned by the sound of a door clicking open and then clashing closed. Sam gasped as a young girl walked into the room and over towards them. She was the one from his vision… she was the girl they’d been looking for.

“Oh God, not you.” Dean murmured, glaring at the girl.

“Don’t be like that.” She teased, kneeling down in front of him, “After all, I might get to keep you.”

“Oh yippee.” Dean mock cheered but he knew it was only to hide how tired he was and what was worse, he knew Sam knew it too.

“Hey, bitch!” Sam called, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Playing.” She replied simply, not even turning to look at Sam, “I like playing with new toys.”

“Leave him alone.”

“Tempting but no.” Her hand moved up and wiped a speck of dirt away from Dean’s cheek but the dirt only smudged with ash that was still there, “Now Dean, how’d you fancy telling me about your gift?”

Dean looked thoughtful for a second and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before speaking, “Well, when I was about four my Mom bought me a toy car. I carried it everywhere with me… then there was the rifle Dad bought me for my thirteenth or something like that, real beauty - still got it in my trunk somewhere.”

“As heart warming as both those little tales are, you know I’m not on about them.” She leaned in close, “Why didn’t you burn? I want to know and I dare bet when he finds out he won’t tell me… so I’m asking you. Why?”

“Well sweetheart, if you do ever find out – be sure to tell me ‘cause I ain’t got a freaking clue.”

She pouted and pushed herself up, turning to face Sam finally, her eyes narrowing, “What about you? Do you know why? Come on, tell me. Just between us special kids.”

“No… I don’t know why.” Sam spat at her. Inside his mind was rolling with curses, this whole thing had been a set up, right from that first vision about the park and about her and from what he could tell, it had been meant to split him and Dean up… but Dean’s non burning… well that had screwed things up.

“Right then, guess you’re not very useful then.”

“Feel free to leave us alone again any moment.” Dean hissed at her, “Hell, feel free to let us go… instead of just standing their and trying to act as if you have a brain.”

“Oooo, harsh my little toy.” Her eyes gleamed as they turned to look at Dean, “If you want to play so badly then I guess I’m up for some fun.”

“I don’t know what your idea of fun is…” Dean breathed as he watched her walk over to a wall and pick up a metal rod before returning to stand in front of him, “But mine definitely doesn’t include one of them.”

She used the end of the rod the lift Dean’s chin it, the pointed tip scratching his neck and causing blood to trickle slightly. Chains rattled behind her as Sam pulled furiously at his restraints, desperate to stop the crazy bitch in front of him.

“Back the hell off!” He shouted at her but she simply waved her free had at him, silently telling him to shut up, “I meant it!”

“What you gonna do with that?” Dean asked, keeping a smirk firmly fixed.

She shrugged, the action making the end raise and fall, digging a little further into his throat and Dean held his breath, “Was thinking I could put it somewhere… drive it through your hand, or your knee… or I could use it to beat you.”

“And they’re the only choices?”

“No. I could use it on Sam.” She threatened and as his eyes widened, she knew she'd hit the desired nerve.

“You stay away from him.” He warned but the rod had already left its place from under his chin as she wandered over towards Sam.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Firelight

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Leave him alone!” Dean shouted but she wasn’t listening, she was already standing in front of Sam.

She licked her lips and pressed the rod against Sam’s cheek; he tensed beneath the touch but stared at her with a hardened gaze. She moved the rod down slowly, slicing at his skin, watching him carefully for any signs of fear.

“Back off!” Dean called again, wrestling with his shackles, “Please, leave him out of this.”

Amii cocked her head to the side and looked over her shoulder at Dean, considering him for a moment before removing the rod from Sam’s cheek, “You really don’t like seeing Sammy here hurt, do you?”

Dean didn’t reply. She knew the answer; she didn’t need him to confirm it.

“I don’t get it. Why? What about all those bad things he’s ever done to you? Doesn’t it piss you off?”

“He’s my brother.” Dean spat at her, “But you’re such a cold and heartless piece of work that you wouldn’t understand.”

“No…” She agreed, a malicious smile crossing her lips again and she turned back to Sam; raising the rod and pushing it into the upper half of his leg – not strong enough to injure him but just enough to get her intent across, “You want me to stop, you tell me what I want to know.”

“I don’t know.” Dean pleaded, “Hell, for all I do know that bastard demon could just be messing with us.”

The rod was pressed on harder and Sam ground his teeth together, biting back the small cry of pain as the end broke through his jeans and into his skin. She was stronger than she looked.

“He’s not doing this. You are. You have to know. How could you not?”

“I dunno about you but I’m not really the type to go walking through fire, so why the hell would I know?” Dean snarked, “Just stop it, please. Leave him alone.”

She sighed and lifted the rod, turning to face Dean brightly, “Okay.”

“Okay? Really?” Dean asked, slightly taken aback.

She nodded and laid the rod back against the wall before blowing Dean a quick kiss and leaving the room.

“She scares me.” Dean muttered.

“She likes you, maybe you get a room.” Sam mocked.

“Bite me.”

“I’ll leave that to her.” Sam smirked slightly, watching as his brother slumped back against the wall now that the danger seemed to have gone.

He shifted his leg a little, wincing at what he was sure was going to be a pretty bad bruise, and looked down. It wasn’t that bad from what he could see, there was barely any blood, just a small trickle that stained his jeans. He groaned and looked up at the shackles, mind searching for some escape but that was short lived as the door creaked once again and Amii had returned.

She held something in her hand but from where he was, Sam couldn’t see what it was. Slowly, she made her way over to Dean and knelt in front of him, he looked up at her wearily, wearing a bored expression.

“I wanna see.” She said.

“Wanna see what?” Dean narrowed his eyes before seeing the small silver item that she held in one hand.

She set the silver lighter on the floor and pulled a key from her pocket, lifting it to the shackles she undid one hand and pulled his arm out. His muscles tensed automatically and he tried to pull his arm away from her but she held it steady using the same force she’d used on him earlier. Her hand curved around the lighter as she picked it up and flicked it open, igniting the small dancing flame.

“I want a demonstration.” Her smile widened and she placed the lighter beneath his arm so the flame flickered against his skin.

“What are you doing?” Sam called; an edge of panic evident in his voice.

Dean gasped at the sudden arrival of pain and tried again to pull his arm away from her, gaining more control the more instinct came into play. When he didn’t succeed in getting away, sick curiosity made him look down at his skin which showed no signs of burning. He clenched his hands so they made fists and forced back the sharp cry of pain, his leg pulsing as he tried to control the it.

“Beautiful.” She whispered before finally flicking the lighter closed. She turned his arm over, examining the damage… or lack of damage, “Amazing.”

“Bitch.” Dean ground out and yanked his arm away from her, bringing it up against his chest in a vain attempt to stop the pain.

“You’d think if you didn’t burn then fire wouldn’t hurt.”

“I wish.” He moaned, taking several deep breaths.

She stood up and shrugged, satisfied with what she’d just seen. She left the room much quicker this time, not sparing a second glance at either brother.

“You okay?” Sam asked when he heard the door close.

“Fan-freaking-tastic.”

“Dean…”

“I’m fine… it’s just little pain. Besides, dumb bitch left my arm loose.” Dean smirked, turning to the door to check she wasn’t going to burst through and rectify the act.

Sam let his eyes wander over his brother, mind lingering on the fact that he had yet to move his arm away from his chest, “Unless you’ve started carrying paperclips that might not be much help.”

“We’ll find something.”

“I guess…” Sam sighed, “But Dean…”

“What?”

“I don’t think he is messing with us. He was completely freaked out. We have to figure this out.”

“One thing at a time Sammy.” Dean groaned, “Oh great… and if things weren’t bad enough, it’s raining.”

“Huh? How can you tell?”

“Well for one, that faint little noise that sounds like rain.”

Sam nodded in agreement; straining his ears he heard it too.

“And for two… there’s a hole above me and I’m getting wet and if it ain’t rain, I’m not sure I wanna know what it is.” Dean leaned his head back against the wall, the leaking roof allowing the harsh cold rain that was falling outside to fall onto him, dripping silently into his hair and against his face.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fly Away

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam sighed, wondering how much time had passed. His head rested against the wall and he closed his eyes, he was so incredibly tired but he couldn’t fall asleep. He needed a plan and he needed one now. Since that little bitch had left after burning Dean, she hadn’t come back and neither had that yellow eyed bastard. It was just him and Dean and they needed to get out before either of them came back to do anything else to his already injured brother.

“How’s your arm?” Sam asked and when he received no reply he lifted his head and looked across the room. Dean’s head was dropped against his chest and Sam could only tell he was breathing by the sudden shuddering breath that made the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck stand on end, “Hey! Dean! Wake up! I know you’re tired but you are scaring the hell out of me here!”

Another shuddering breath was his only reply and Sam pulled anxiously at his chains, raising his voice even more, “DEAN!”

And then he thought he saw Dean wince and lift his head a little, “Wha?”

“You fell asleep… Goddamn it Dean! You just… you had me worried, okay?”

“Sorry… just so tired.” Dean blinked his eyes and looked over at his brother, “How you feeling?”

“Not even half as crap as you are. How’s the arm?”

“I’ll live.”

“That’s not funny. Not right now.”

“Dude… it was just a bit of pain, its fine now. I swear.” To prove his point, he flexed his fingers and rolled his wrist, “Now how’s that escape plan coming lil’ bro’?”

“I thought you were the one coming up with one.” Sam joked.

“Well then you better get cracking ‘cause not only am I cold and wet but I am freaking starving – you know I haven’t eaten since…? I don’t even know how long it’s been. Man I could use a nice juicy beef burger and oh yeah, a good cold beer.”

“If you’re that hungry you could gnaw your other arm off then you’d be free to get us out.”

“What? With no salt? Dude, I need my food salty.”

“No, you need your food greasy.”

“That’s true.”

“So I take it that’s a ‘no’ to that plan?”

“Err, nah. That’d be a ‘hell no’.”

“Okay then, plan B.”

“And what’s plan B?”

“I have no idea.” Sam snorted, glad to see his brother more awake and aware but that didn’t help the fact that they were both still chained up.

Dean nodded, not sure whether or not Sam could see, but if he was honest with himself, he did feel like crap. His throat felt sore, his head was bouncing, he was shivering from the cold and though his arm didn’t hurt, it did ache a little and it was only occasional, but every so often another drop of water would splash him in the face.

His weary eyes searched the ground nearby once more for anything that could be used as a weapon or as an aid for escape. He growled in frustration and looked over at his brother, noticing just how much closer the metal rod was.

“Sam… can you reach the rod with your legs?” He asked, trying to judge the distance between the rod and Sam.

Sam turned his head to the side to look at it, “I can try… but what the hell am I supposed to do if I can reach it?”

“Kick it over here.”

“What? Okay… yeah ‘cause that makes sense. I mean, it’s not like I might kick it too hard and it could hit you at a wrong angle or it might just stop in the middle of the floor and then neither of us will be able to use it.” Sam glared but shifted his body so he could try and drag the rod towards him.

“Way to be optimistic. Look, you get it over here and I could try and use it to help pull these shackles at the wall, you know, leverage an all that?”

“Wow, that’s two big words in one sentence, sure you’re not hurting your brain with all this thinking?” Sam groaned out, legs stretched searching the floor near the rod, making their way closer.

“You’re just jealous that your half beaten brother formed an actual plan before you, the college boy, had a chance.” Dean winced at the expression of strain of Sam’s face, realising just how much Sam was pushing himself. He was about an inch or two from the rod but he was already stretched out to what looked like the max.

Dean glanced towards the door, keeping an eye at for uninvited guests but when he heard the soft metal clunk he looked back towards Sam who had knocked the rod to the ground. Both brothers watched nervously as the rod rocked back and forth and prayed that it didn’t stray from Sam’s reach, Sam’s muscles strained as his foot tried to catch the rod and roll is towards him and after several intense seconds, both let out a sigh of relief as his foot dragged it back to him.

“Okay… now kick it over here.”

“I could maybe…” Sam started but he already knew what Dean’s reply would be.

“What? Try and twist it up using your legs so you can catch it and poke an eye out in the process. No way Sam. Now just kick it over.” Dean’s voice was stern but strained and Sam felt a pang of guilt for making his brother use any more energy than he needed to.

“Okay. But be ready ‘cause I’ll aim it a little off so I don’t hit you.”

“Just pass the damn thing already.” Dean growled and smirked when Sam did as he was told and the rod was sent flying a little to Dean’s left.

Dean gripped the end of the metal rod and lifted it clumsily; misjudging the weight he narrowly avoided the rod crashing down on his already throbbing skull. He refused to meet Sam’s eyes as he tried again, jamming the end of the rod into the loop that attached the shackles to the wall. He jiggled it a little before trying with all his strength to push and pull the shackles.

He groaned and cried out when the metal refused to budge but he tried again, putting even more heart into it. He only spared Sam a quick glance but in that glance he decided that they really needed to get out of here because he couldn’t stand watching Sam getting hurt just to get to him and he knew that Sam was getting sick of watching Dean in pain too. He raised the rod, slowly, as much as he could and he had to catch his breath as he felt a little dust fall from the wall and heard movement.

It was working. It was actually working. Few more tries and he might actually have it. Only problem was Dean didn’t know how many more tries he had left in him.

“Come on.” He pleaded as he jiggled at the rod again, “Come on. Come on.”

A little more shackle broke away from the wall but the movement caused the rod slip and this time Dean wasn’t quick enough as the rod opened a cut from just above his hairline to halfway down the edge of his face.

“Dean!” Sam called, unable to contain the worried cry.

“Damn it!” Dean cursed, letting the rod fall to the ground as he raised his hand to inspect the wound, “I’m okay Sammy. Just a flesh wound.”

“And you were on about me poking an eye out? Try taking your own advice.” Sam hissed.

“I’m fine.” Dean said, rubbing his hand along his jeans to rid it of any slippery blood. He took a deep breath and picked the rod back up, moving it back into place, “I’d say a couple more goes and I’ll be free. Then that’ll shut you up.”

“Be careful, okay?” Sam pleaded.

Dean just nodded and started back to work with the rod. It took nearly another fifteen minutes before the shackles brace broke away from the wall and Dean slumped to his side, breathing heavily. He grinned madly at Sam, trying to hide the pain he was in, and uttered a quiet ‘I told you so’ before his eyes slipped closed.

“Dean!” Sam cried out, “Come on! Don’t go to sleep on me now!”

Dean lifted a heavy eyelid and peered across the room, “So tired Sam.”

“I know but I promise to let you sleep for days, no weeks, as soon as we get out of here and into some place safe.”

“Really?” Dean opened both eyes and pulled himself up; one hand grabbed the rod whilst he used the other to push him to his feet. He stood for a moment, letting the dizziness settle before forcing his body to move across the room and towards Sam.

“Oh God. Dean, you look like death.” Sam gasped as his brother drew closer and fell to his knees in front of him. He merely waved a hand in dismissal before gripping the rod tightly and wedging it in place, just like he’d done with his own. He was as careful as he could be, trying not to catch Sam with the chains that still hung around one wrist.

He pushed and pulled the rod up, working on it from this angle was much easier – or at least it would have been if he hadn’t already used up most of his energy and was working on pure will alone. He took a deep breath, his chest shuddering as he did so, and heaved once more. The bracket came away a little and Sam pulled at his shackles, nearly laughing as the dust fell from the wall.

“Nearly there.” Dean muttered but the loud creaky noise made him freeze and as both brothers looked towards the now open door, Dean cursed out loud.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fly By Night

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Dean?” The voice from the door questioned the scene that lay before them.

“Amii…” Dean breathed, hands slipping down the rod, “Guess you’re wondering what I’m doing…?”

“Not really. I can see perfectly well.” She smiled, striding over to the brothers. She placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and he felt his body involuntarily relax, the rod dropping from his hands and only just missing Sam.

“Get off me.” Dean hissed as he rose into a standing position, his eyes staring dangerously into hers.

“You’re meant to be a good boy Dean or you and Sammy will get hurt.” She taunted, bringing up a hand to his face she caressed his cheek, “I know you don’t want that.”

Sam pulled hard on the shackles, the bracket wobbly dangerously on the wall but refusing to break free, he growled angrily at the woman in front of him but his words went unheard, “Get off him!”

“I don’t want you touching me.” Dean tried to turn away but his body didn’t obey, instead it followed her, doing what she wanted it to do.

“You don’t have a choice.” She smirked and grabbed his throat, cutting any retort short, her nails dug in as he struggled to breath.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, he gripped one of the chains with his hand and pulled again, focusing all his energy. The metal shook angrily and the bracket came away a little more as he panicked, watching his tired and vulnerable brother losing the battle to stay conscious, “Let him go!”

Amii paid him no attention, instead she tightened her grip on Dean’s throat and she could feel her nails break through the skin, warm blood seeping out onto the cold and sweaty skin. Slowly, he managed to lift a hand and he tried to pull her hand away but he just had no strength left.

“I said let him go!” Sam cried, thrashing his arms about, frantically pulling the chain over and over again and each time he gained a little more as it came away some more. He saw Dean blink, the way his big brother always blinked when he was trying to keep his eyes focused, and it just pissed Sam off so much that she should be allowed to hurt his brother anymore.

One last effort and he pulled, growling as he did so, and the bracket came away from the wall, shackles heavy on his arms, weighing them down. But it was no worse than he’d had before. His left hand found its way around the metal rod and he brought it up with him as he dragged himself up from the floor and in less than two strides he was behind Amii.

“I said let go.” He demanded and he heard her gasp, she was shocked.

She span around, her hand still squeezing Dean’s throat, her light brown hair catching in her face as she did so, terror written plainly across her eyes. She took a step back, stumbling as she did so and taking Dean with her, she barely managed to catch herself and Sam knew that Dean was about to go. His face was set and Sam readjusted his grip on the rod as he caught a glimpse of Dean behind her, eyes closed and body unstable. Anger flared through him and he thrust the rod up and into the young girl.

Her scream echoed through the warehouse, bringing back a trickle of a memory from a distant vision of where he’d committed a similar act on the same girl. He let go of the rod, leaving it deep inside her guts, and rushed forward as she released Dean.

“Sweet Dreams.” Dean barely managed to choke out before collapsing into Sam’s arms, staring at Amii with more hatred than Sam thought possible.

“How you feeling Dean?” Sam asked gently as he lowered Dean down.

“M’fine… just tired.” Dean groaned, rolling his head away from Sam’s touch.

“Jesus Dean, you’re burning up. We need to get you out of here.” Sam shook his head as his brother swatted his hand away and instead turned his attention to Amii, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing but shadows. He took a deep breath and searched her pockets, hoping to find a key to the damn chains that just kept getting in the way.

Silently, he thanked God or whoever was up there because even though they weren’t doing their best job looking out for Sam and Dean, they had at least let him find the key – and the right key at that. So within minutes he and Dean were free of chains and were making their way out of the room.

“What now?” Dean grumbled as Sam opened to the door to find a corridor leading to the outside world.

“I was just thinking we’d make a run for it and hope yellow eyes doesn’t catch us.” Sam answered, arm wrapped tightly around Dean’s waist to keep him steady.

“Has that ever worked for us before?”

“Maybe once or twice… I’m hoping we get lucky.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

Sam shrugged and glanced around as he helped Dean across the corridor, not once noticing the yellow eyed shadow watching them from behind. But that’s all the shadow did do – watch. It had known they’d find a way out, they were resourceful after all but it did feel some sorrow that Amii had to be sacrificed.

“Oh God no!” Dean gasped as they stepped out into the cold air.

“What?” Sam asked, head spinning for what caused his brother to call out and then his eyes fell on the same ugly little bug from before. The worst news was that there were no other cars in sight.

“You’re driving.” Dean said flatly, pulling himself out of Sam’s grip and moving around clumsily to the passenger side. Happy to find the door unlocked, he climbed in and settled himself on the seat, his eyes immediately falling closed.

Sam frowned, and clambered into the driver’s seat, making certain adjustments to get the car started. Judging by the surroundings, they were probably only a couple of miles away from the motel and as soon as they got back there, he was packing up their gear into the Impala and he and Dean were getting the hell out of there.

“You still with me bro?”

“You said I could sleep.” Dean moaned, turning to look at his brother, one eye creeping open.

“You can… but I wanna get us to the motel so I can check you out first. So just stay awake a little while longer.”

“I’m fine.”

“No your not. Hell, for all I know you could have a concussion after that rod hit your head.”

“I think I’d know.” Dean rolled his head away and looked out the window trying to fight back the darkness.

“Yeah well, you might but if you did, I don’t think you’d tell me.”

“Sure I would…”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled the car onto the road, tearing off in the direction his guts told him to, “Yeah and there’s a pink bunny sitting in the back seat.”

“Just make sure it doesn’t eat us.”

It took nearly fifteen minutes to find their way back to the motel; Dean kept quiet, mumbling occasionally when Sam asked him if he was still awake. When they did get back Sam tried to help Dean but the stubborn brother refused, stumbling to the motel door.

“He really did a number on that place.” He muttered as Sam opened the door, his eyes were focused on the half burnt cabin.

Sam didn’t even look, didn’t want to remember the place or the way Dean had been splayed on the ceiling, just like his mom and just like Jess, “Let’s just get you cleaned up and into some clothes that haven’t been nearly burnt to a crisp.”

“Yes sir.” Dean mocked, dragging himself into the room and falling onto the bed, “Then I can sleep right?”

“Then you can sleep.” Sam agreed, kneeling on Dean’s bed, “Don’t move, okay?”

“Why?” Dean opened one eye and looked up at his brother, watching as Sam cut away his shirt, exposing his sweaty ash covered chest that wheezed in and out.

“Lift up.” Sam ordered; removing the shirt and grimacing as his brother winced against the pain.

“Careful with the merchandise.”

“Tell that to the demons, ghosts and other things that go bump in the night before they beat you up.”

“Maybe next time.” The grumble was barely audible but Sam heard it as his brother’s eyes slipped closed again.

“Okay…” Sam said, finally giving in to his tired brother, “I’ll wake you when I’ve packed the car - just make sure you wake up.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Faint

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He watched as the small flame, no bigger than the one his silver lighter produced, danced in mid air. It flickered, dazzling him, hypnotising him and then it began to twist and grow. His eyes widened at it grew the size of his fist but it didn’t stop growing, it just kept expanding, drawing in the oxygen from the air around – even stealing the little that Dean wanted for himself.

The flame burned, scorched the air, and as it grew, it began to take shape. A fiery golden glow edge began to form and long fiery locks sprouted from a very feminine shaped head. He knew exactly who it was, or at least who it was meant to be.

“Mom.”

The fiery figure in front of him tilted its head to the side and blinked, though he could hardly tell that’s what the strange flicker was meant to be. It stretched out its hand, laying it flat in the air as an offering and he didn’t care that this thing was clearly not human; he lifted his hand and reached out to it.

As soon as his hand made contact, the fire engulfed him, sending wave after wave of pain through his entire body and causing him to fall to his knees in agony, screaming. And the figure just watched with curiosity as his back arched and he cried out, wishing for release, pleading for the burning to stop.

“Dean!”

He heard a voice cry his name, taking away some of the pain with it, and he blinked, searching for its owner.

“DEAN!” Sam cried out, holding his brothers shoulders tightly in hope that it would calm him, “It’s okay. It’s just a dream, come on, wake up.”

Sam watched as his brother’s eyes shot open revealing a fever bright colour, his breathing was hard and uneven and a sheen of glistening sweat trickled down his face, pooling around his shirt collar. The younger Winchester grabbed the glass of water from the cabinet and helped his brother up a little, putting the glass to his lips.

“Come on Dean, you need to drink. Easy now…” And Dean opened his mouth just a little, allowing Sam to pour some of the cool liquid into it before lying back down, unmoving, eyes focused on the ceiling and mouth now tightly shut.

“Dean… please talk to me. That’s the third night you’ve had a nightmare… ever since…”

“I’m fine Sam.” Dean croaked out.

“No you’re not! Besides tossing and turning in your sleep, you’ve got a temperature, haven’t eaten anything solid in days and whatever you do eat; you end up throwing it back up. You’re not fine.” Sam sighed, watching his brother as he cringed at Sam’s loud voice.

It had been three days since they had escaped and though the better part of the first day was spent getting as far away from that town as possible, the rest of the days were spent looking after Dean who chose now of all times to fall ill. Sam couldn’t blame him, after everything he’d been put through his body was bound to need some time to recover but then there were the dreams and Sam feared them most.

“Just need some rest.” Dean answered simply, throat so raw and dry that sticking to simple sentences was best.

“Answer me one question then Dean, just one. What does ‘where have the angels gone?’ mean?”

“What?” The word was full of genuine confusion.

“You said it once… was about the only coherent thing I heard. You remember anything about it?”

Dean shook his head, brow furrowed as he recalled his dreams from the past couple of nights but not once could he remember saying or hearing that said, “You sure?”

“Pretty damn sure.”

“Probably just rambling… you said so yourself – I’ve got a fever. People with fevers ramble.”

Sam half shrugged and half nodded, not wanting to agree with his brother but unable to disagree with the truth. He cleared his throat, knowing that the topic of conversation was going to change whether he did it or not so best he sent in the direction he wanted it to go, “Right then, which do you want, chicken or tomato?”

“Sam…” Dean pleaded, just thinking of food made him feel sickly.

“You have to eat Dean… please…”

“What’s the point when I’ll just bring it all back up?”

“The point is you need strength – whatever strength you can get. So chicken or tomato?”

“How about beer or candy?”

“Yeah, if you wanna be dehydrated and living in the bathroom for the rest of the week. So which is it gonna be, chicken or tomato?” Sam repeated his question firmly and forcefully, begging that he wouldn’t have to ask again.

“If it’ll get you off my back I’ll have chicken.” Dean gave in, pulling himself up so he was leaning against the wall.

Sam smiled and moved towards the mini kitchenette, “You used to make me chicken soup when I was ill.”

Only ‘cause Mom made it for me. Dean thought to himself, a knot forming in his throat as he remembered the dream. He knew it wasn’t his mom but it still hurt to see her like that. He looked down at his shaking hands, thoughts speeding through his head.

“Why the hell…?” He muttered under his breath, low enough so Sam couldn’t hear.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Past

“Dean!” John cried out after hearing the short shriek of pain from his eldest. He rushed to stand up and get to the kitchen where he saw the stove was lit with flames burning high and Dean was cradling his right hand, “What the hell Dean?”

“I was trying to make soup…” The eight year old moaned, tears stinging his eyes, “Sammy’s getting a cold.”

“What have I told you?” John took a deep breath and knelt in front of his song, “No paying with matches, no playing with lighters and definitely no playing with the stove. No playing with fire full stop. Now let me have a look.”

Dean whimpered but shuffled a little and held out his hand, “You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Next time wake me, okay?” John pleaded, earning a nod from his eldest. He took Dean’s hand gently and turned it over, examining it, “Where’d you catch it?”

A sniffle and a shrug was the reply.

“Well, I can’t see a mark so you got pretty lucky this time. We’ll run it under cold water just to be safe.” John said as he lifted his son onto the worktop and turned the stove off. “And no more playing with the stove… not unless I’m there to watch you. Right?”

“No more fire.” Dean agreed; innocent eyes watching as his father got to work on his arm.

John frowned as he placed a damp cloth over Dean’s arm and lifted him down, telling him to keep it place for a while and that he’d finish the soup. He’d been lucky this time… he’d been lucky last time too and the time before that… But he was a kid and he was careless and curious and that’s why John had made the fire rules in the first place and Dean mainly stuck to them…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fall Into Sleep

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Pyrokinesis – paranormal/psychic ability that enables it’s user to control fire to the extent that some pyrokinetics can not only command the movements of fire but create flames from nothing but thin air and extinguish them in the blink of an eye. As long as the temperature of the fire does not exceed the maximum of which they can create themselves, pyrokinetics are believed to be immune to flames and burning.

Sam looked over at his brother over the top of the laptop and frowned. There was no way Dean could have pyrokinesis, there had been no evidence to suggest that he could control or create fire and definitely not to the magnitude of what the Demon had used on him. And yet it was the closest match he could find.

But more importantly than what it was, Sam needed to know why Dean had it. It irked him no end that the Demon had said something about Dean not being his therefore implying that whatever was happening to Dean was due to someone or something else.

“What you looking at?” Dean asked, dipping his spoon into his soup before tipping it over and allowing the liquid to fall back into the bowl.

“Pyrokinesis.” Sam stated flatly, clicking another link on the page.

“Why?” Dean cocked his head to the side and put his half eaten soup on the table beside his bed.

“I was thinking it might have something to do with why you didn’t burn.”

“But I’m not a firestarter… I think I would have noticed – don’t you?”

“You don’t burn. There has to be some reason for it. You were up on that ceiling and you were on fire…”

“You don’t have to remind me. I remember pretty damn well what happened. It was a fluke.”

“No it wasn’t. That Amii girl… she pulled a lighter out on you. You’ve got no burns from that either.”

“Sam! I am not in the mood for this. I’m ill, remember? I just wanna move onto the next town and put this all behind us.”

“Put this behind us? Dean, for God’s sake! This isn’t going to go away - just like my visions aren’t going to go away. We’ve got to find out what this is; we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“You do that then…” Dean grumbled, pushing his body down onto the bed and twisting away from Sam. He didn’t want to deal with this; it scared the hell out of him. Surely Sam could understand that? Sam the psychic freaking wonder… surely he should know how it felt?

“I will. Just let me know when you stop being all pissy so we can come up with our next move, besides this PMS of yours is bugging the hell out of me.”

“Whatever.” Dean murmured, rolling himself further away onto his side. He hated being ill. Being ill meant stuck in a stuffy motel room with a mother henning brother and it also meant no beer… and no bars… and no chicks. Yeah, he hated being ill. And so he closed his eyes and tried to think about something else – anything else.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He knew he was dreaming this time at least, couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep but he knew he was. Everything felt so real and so right that he didn’t know how he knew, he just did. The air felt thick, smothering him like a blanket. He knew what was coming and anxiety weighed down on him heavily, crushing him.

And he watched, watched as the flickering flame appeared in front of him and danced and grew and became the fiery woman that reminded him so much of his Mom. She reached out like she had done in the dreams before but he was hesitant this time, he knew what would happen if he took the impostor’s hand. Still, he was tempted.

His arms hung loosely by his sides as he resisted and turned his face away.

“Dean.” She whispered, enticingly, watching him.

“You’re not her…” He replied, for the first time since the dreams had started.

“Where have the angels gone? What did you do?”

There was an accusation in this things voice that forced Dean to look it in the eyes, angry at its words, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Liar!” She screeched and Dean had no time to brace himself before she lunged at him, fire engulfing him immediately as he screamed in agony.

And then a voice broke through his screams, “I can make it go away. I can help you to control it… to use it.”

The pain subsided as the voice went on, leaving Dean panting hard on the floor. He recognised the voice and as soon as he heard it he wished he could blank it out. It didn’t belong there… shouldn’t have been in this place.

Another wave of searing pain scorched through him like lava and he screamed out once more. Before the pain took full control of his senses, turning him deaf and dumb and blind, he caught a malicious smile and a glint of yellow eyes from the shadows.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean awoke with warm sweat drenching his entire body, soaking his sheets and clothes and choking him. His head was pounding, probably due to restless sleep or maybe just the stress of everything. On top of that, he was shivering, shaking so hard and his mind was racing.

“What the hell?” That had been the yellow eyed demon in his dream, he was sure of it. But why the hell would it visit his dreams? He wasn’t one of its special kids.

“Damn it.” Dean growled and rolled over onto his front, shoving his face into his pillow, “Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.”

What was going on with him – the yellow eyed demon visiting his dreams… trying to tempt him. It was messing with him. It had found a new way to screw the Winchesters over and this was it. He had to know… had to know whether the demon was faking it.

His gaze fell on the bed beside his and he saw his younger brother finally resting. He felt jealous at how peaceful he looked, half curled up like a ball and half sprawled out on the bed, the sight of it made Dean smile. Running a rough hand through his hair, Dean watched Sam for a moment longer before pulling himself up and moving over to his duffle, his hand digging in deep until it grasped something small and cold.

His fingers ran over it as he moved back to the bed and settled on in, shifting until he was comfortable, and then he just stared and the little silver lighter in his hand. He had to know… had to know that it wasn’t just the demon messing with them. He clicked it open and watched the flame for a moment before blowing it out gently. He felt restless and curious. He clicked it open again and held the mini fireball steady, eyes fixed on the yellowy orange dancer.

It was entrancing, the way the fire moved. He lifted his left hand and held it over the flame, letting it hover so he could feel the heat. Slowly, he lowered his hand until it was actually touching the fire and he could still feel the heat, felt it pulsating through his palm and fingers, stinging and numbing, like extremely sharp needles.

But his skin did not blister or burn.

He held his hand like that for a further five minutes and only moved it away when he heard his brother stirring from his peaceful slumber.

“Dean?” Sam asked groggily, trying to wake himself up properly. His eyes lingered on a bright orange spot that he couldn’t make out properly, “What you doing?”

“Nothing Sammy. Go back to sleep.” He replied and snapped the lighter shut, placing it gently on the cabinet beside his bed.

He felt Sam’s unfocused eyes on his and laid down, pulling the covers half way up over his bare chest and he repeated his request, “Go back to sleep Sammy.”

“You still pissed with me?” Sam asked, finding it difficult to stifle the yawn that followed.

“No, I’m not pissed at you.”

“I’m sorry Dean… I didn’t mean to push. I just… I’m worried.”

“I know Sam. Me too.” Dean rolled onto his side, facing away from Sam, “Now get some sleep.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Far Away

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Morning came swiftly as Sam slowly began to wake up. He shuffled in his bed and stretched, arching his back up as he did so and rolling his shoulders. Opening his bleary eyes, he blinked a couple of times and looked around the lightened room. His gaze almost immediately fell on his brother’s empty bed; the covers had been thrown off hastily and lay in a tangled heap around the bottom.

“Dean?” He called out, a lump forming in his throat as he thought about his brother’s current condition.

When there was no reply he pulled himself up from his bed and glanced around the room one more time, taking in every tiny detail, ears straining for noises. That was when he heard the faint sound of rushing water and relief washed over him as he walked over to the bathroom door to listen more closely. Water was running; the shower was on which meant he’d very nearly over reacted. He was just so Goddamn worried.

With an exhausted sigh, Sam moved back over to his bed and sat on the edge, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands, “What are we gonna do?”

Didn’t matter how fan they ran, how well they hid, the supernatural just kept coming after them. Sure, probably didn’t help that they killed every paranormal bastard that they could aim their guns at or chant a ritual at but still, surely someone out there could cut them a break? But wallowing wasn’t going to do much good.

He raised his head and found his eyes drawn towards the nightstand. Curiosity wept through him as he spotted the silver lighter that he was pretty damn positive hadn’t been there the previous night.

“Dean…” He breathed, “What the hell are you playing at?”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The shower was cool and relaxing, easing tensed muscles and washing away fears from dreams that he really wanted to forget. He needed the downfall of pounding water, it was an escape if only for awhile and had the complete opposite effects that fire had. Water - the enemy of fire, friend to the burned. And even though he hadn’t burned, he’d felt the pain and the heat and that made water his friend.

Leaning his head against the wall he looked down at his abdomen and noticed for the first time since the burning that he had a thin white scar running across his skin. If it hadn’t been for the fire the wound would have been worse, he knew that. The wound should have killed him but the determined fire that had just refused to burn him had distracted the demon. And now the wound looked like it had barely ever been there… the wonders of supernatural injuries.

“Should be dead…” Dean closed his eyes and turned his face up into the stream of water, “Should have died a long time ago.”

He ran his hands through his soaking wet hair and down to his neck, where they rested for a moment as he worked out the kinks from his tired muscles and worn bones.

“Dean?” Through the haze of thoughts, he heard his name being called. Sam was worried about him, he had a right to be but Dean just wanted some peace, some time to himself that didn’t include a mother-henning younger brother and freaky dark dreams with a fire woman and the demon.

So he didn’t answer, couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice above a whisper. Sam would figure it out that he was in the shower, he didn’t need to tell him. He just wanted to be alone for a few minutes longer.

It wasn’t until he thought about keeping some warm water for Sam that he decided to shut off the shower and climb out to dry down and get dressed. He wiped away the fog on the mirror and stared into his reflection, questioning it, questioning himself. Tired eyes held no answers and so he sighed and opened the bathroom door.

Almost immediately Sam looked up at him, “You look better.”

“Liar.” Dean grumbled, “But I do feel it.”

“You do?” Sam asked, but in that tone that implied it was a trick question.

Trick questions needed trick answers, or just avoiding ones, “You know I could really use a coffee.”

“Dean… you’re hiding something.” Sam jumped in.

“And what makes you think that?”

Sam opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately after, trying to keep his eyes off the lighter on the nightstand, “I’m just worried.”

You’d be even more worried if I told you about my dream. Dean thought, grabbing his coat from the back of one of the chairs.

“Woah, where are you going?” Sam asked, instantly standing up and taking a step toward his brother.

“Told you. I want coffee.” Dean eyed Sam whilst he pulled his coat on, “Besides, I’m not the only one hiding things. You’ve either found something or you were told but you know something.”

Sam froze, mind reeling with memories of what the Demon had said, “What are you talking about?”

“You… I can tell with you. All this worry, you’re bad but there’s no reason for you to be this bad. Something’s got you really worried…”

“Oh, you mean besides the Demon now being interested in you as a prize and the fact that you can’t burn and you’re ill, in fact I bet you’re still running a fever, and you’ve been having nightmares. Yeah… can imagine how I wouldn’t be worried about that.”

Dean looked away from Sam’s face, immediately feeling guilty for his paranoia. It wasn’t fair, jumping down Sam’s throat, taking his anger out on Sam… he didn’t want to do it, just found he couldn’t control it. He’d been thinking about Sam’s behaviour and was so positive that his younger brother was hiding something, but now… now he just felt bad for accusing him of such a thing.

“Sam…” He started, fingers winding their way around the Impala’s keys in his pocket.

“I know.” Sam sighed, throwing a forgiving but still heated look at his brother, “Bring me back something strong.”

Dean smiled sadly and nodded, slipping quietly from the room. He breathed in the fresh warm air from the outside and brought his hands up to his face, quickly scrubbing it. Water gently dripped from his still wet hair but he didn’t care, he just needed to be out. Claustrophobia, paranoia… he was losing it. Spiralling. In his mind he could the distance growing between him and Sam because of the anger and hidden truths. He hated it.

“Damn it.” He swore, moving from his comfortable position outside the motel door to a more comfortable position inside his precious black baby, “What the hell am I doing?”

His eyes lifted up to the roof of the Impala and as he turned the key to start the engine he called out, angry, frustrated, “What the hell have I done? You must be laughing your head off at the game you’re playing but I’ll tell you one thing – I sure as hell don’t think it’s funny.”

The engine roared, echoing Dean’s fuming rumble, “Angels my ass!”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Last time Dean went for provisions by himself he’d ended up kidnapped by a demon groupie… Sam just hoped that there was no chance of that happening ever again. He stretched once more before taking a seat at the table and pulling his laptop towards him. At the touch of a button, the thing was powering up and Sam tapped his fingers against the surface of the table as he waited.

What could have been passed off as an irritated and impatient trademark was just Sam’s way of thinking. Fingers tap tap tapping whilst his eyes stared off into the distance and the laptop booted up. He went over that night again and again but turned up with nothing new. And he went over the past few weeks again and again but still turned up with nothing.

Was this thing recent? Like Sam’s whole precog deal? Or had it always been there, lying dormant? Same could have been said about Sam’s ability, dormant like a sleeping beast waiting to be woken. Far too many questions and not enough places to find answers.

Was there a second demon? It’s not like there weren’t plenty out there but surely it would be uncommon for two completely separate demons to target the same family? Was it genetic? Did ‘freak’ run in the family?

Sam groaned and wiped a hand across his forehead, stopping just above his left eye, rubbing gently to relieve built up tension, “Maybe Dad pissed someone off and got us cursed… maybe Dean pissed someone off and got himself cursed.”

But what type of curse would stop you from burning?

“It hurts him though…” Sam whispered to himself, “Fire still hurts him… maybe its revenge… Or maybe it’s a good thing.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Flat on the Floor

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Not like I need to depend upon anyone.

Music blared through the speakers, far too loud, but it was relaxing, drowning out the empty thoughts echoing inside his head. Focusing on the lyrics as he made his way back from the halfway decent diner, with a pretty much all way decent waitress... long legs, browns eyes… delicious…

Since I can see the lack of need for me to be here at all.

Sitting on his passenger seat was a large bag that held two large beef burgers, two regular side salads, extra salty fries and slice of apple pie. The sign outside the diner had declared it to be the ‘world’s best’ but ‘world’s best’ or not, he was really looking forward to that pie. Balanced behind the bag of food were two coffees, strong and black just waiting to wake the brothers up.

One more anthem for the know it all.

When he eventually pulled up outside the motel, he found himself staring at the door, questioning what he would find inside. Sam would be there sat in front of that little laptop, that Dean was planning on ‘accidentally’ placing beneath the Impala’s wheels and driving over – damn keyboard tapping got really annoying after awhile.

I won't be standing up for long I better learn how to crawl

But it was all for a good cause - or at least it was all for cause anyway. To find out what was wrong with Dean… besides all those little tidbits that a psychologist could have a field day with. Pyro just didn’t seem to fit, it didn’t sound right on his tongue.

Learn how to crawl

“Pyrokinesis. Pyrokinetic.” He tasted the words but they didn’t feel right. Pyromaniac sounds more like me. He smiled at the thought, remembering all the fires he’d started through the years.

In ten minutes I'll be laying out flat on the floor

Grabbing the bag with one hand and the foam tray holding the coffee in the other, he made his way out of the car and to the motel room, tapping the bottom of the door with his foot to let Sam know he was there and would like Sam to get his skinny ass off that wooden chair that he would so definitely be sitting on and open the door.

Like I need to defend my own innocence

Sam scrubbed his hand over his face, tired eyes stinging and straining to focus on the bright screen in front of him. His left hand hovered over the keyboard and touchpad whilst his right fingers tapped a pen against the page of a pad. Scribbles and doodles littered the page and he found himself needing to blink as he reread the same line over and over again. What was he supposed to find? It’s not like the secrets to the Winchesters would be plastered all over the web…

So what, I did it, I admit it, and I'm pleading the 5th

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and quietly questioned where Dean was. He was worried… he had a good right to be. He didn’t know how to approach the subject of what ‘caused’ Dean’s ability… especially after what he’d heard from the Demon. Soft tapping from the door broke him from his thoughts and he closed the laptop as he stood up.

One more anthem for the know it all

Tension was slowly building between the two, hiding behind false smiles; they were keeping things from each other. They were scared. He smiled at the thought. If they were scared that meant they were vulnerable too. He cocked his head to the side as he watched the youngest open the door for the eldest, his yellow eyes glistening in the distance but unseen by the two hunters.

I won't be standing up for long I better learn how to crawl

Dean’s dream had been… interesting. It was strange they way the human mind worked, the way it brought subconscious fears and thoughts into dreams, or sometimes nightmares. Dean’s was definitely a nightmare. He never knew the eldest Winchester had such a dark place inside his head, so dark and so full of pain.

Learn how to crawl

He’d only ever wanted one Winchester but what was the point of being a demon if you couldn’t play on the sins part? He was greedy, so what? Now that he knew both Winchesters could be valuable to him, he wouldn’t just let them go.

In ten minutes I'll be laying out flat on the floor

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“What’d you get?” Sam asked, holding the door open for his brother. His nostrils filled with the sweet smells that filtered through the paper bag making his mouth water. He hadn’t even realised he was so hungry.

“Nothing for you.” Dean teased as he dropped the bag on the table and placed the coffee next to it. He shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair.

“Yeah right, I know you’re a pig but you’re not selfish.”

“That’s not how compliments work Sammy… you’re supposed to just say something nice – not add something bad to it.” Dean pouted playfully. Digging into the bag, he pulled out each piece of food one by one and spread them out on the table, “You can have both the salads if you want, I know you’re watching your figure.”

“Me? You’re the one constantly asking if your bum looks big.”

“Once! I did that once! And that was years ago!” Dean growled, unwrapping his burger and taking a big bite out of it, not caring about the bits that stuck out from his mouth.

“Ahhh, your first date.” Sam grinned, watching as his brother grimaced at the memory. Sam was kinda fond of that memory, not that it was particularly amusing that his brothers first date had been a disaster but he had to admit it was funny when his brother had come home with the left lower half of his jeans missing. And then he frowned, “Dean…”

“Wha?” Dean asked, spraying food from his mouth.

Sam was too lost in thought to be disgusted, “Your leg…”

“What about it?” He said, swallowing the burger in his mouth, his brow creasing as he looked at his brother and as if reading Sam’s thoughts, he shook his head in disbelief, “Wait… no way Sam. That’s impossible.”

“You told Dad that the firework got loose and set fire to your jeans… I don’t remember seeing any burns on your leg.”

“Sam, don’t be stupi-“

But Sam cut him off, “Why not? Maybe this thing, whatever it is, maybe you were born with it? You said so yourself, it’s not like you’ve made a habit of walking through fire so how would you know?”

Dean opened his mouth to object but fell silent. He may have played with fire a lot but he’d never really come into real close contact with it. A wave of guilt washed through him as he thought about the lighter and deliberately holding his hand in the flame, he looked down, unable to look Sam in the eyes.

Sam nodded, as if making his mind up, and began picking at his fries, “We’re leaving town.”

Looking up at his brothers sudden announcement, Dean’s eyes widened in shock, “What? Why?”

“I don’t wanna stay in one town too long and you look loads better than earlier so I think we’re safe to move again.” He shrugged, nibbling on an extra long fry.

“And then what? We keep running? From what Sam? What are we running from?”

“The Demon for one. He’s bound to come after us again.”

Dean smiled dryly, he knew Sam was worried but he couldn’t imagine how much worse his brother would be if he found out the Demon had already found its way into his dreams, “Yeah… bound to.”

Sam threw another fry in his mouth before picking up his burger and taking a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. He looked over at his brother when he heard a sudden laugh and saw mischief glistening in his eyes, “What?”

“Just thinking…” Dean smiled, “Can you imagine Dad finding out about this? You saw how he reacted to your visions. I can just picture his face finding out both his sons are…”

“Freaks?” Sam finished, unable to keep the smirk from his face.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded in agreement, smile staying on his features as he returned to his meal.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Firth of Fifth

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The day passed by slowly and dusk approached gently, the Winchesters sat at opposite sides of the motel room – Sam at the table once more searching his laptop and Dean lazing on the bed closest the door with a newspaper in one hand and a red pen between his teeth. One determined to find answers, and the other determined to forget.

Removing the pen from his mouth, Dean tapped it lightly against the page, frowning as he read, “There have been a few animal attacks not too far south of here.”

“So?” Sam asked, barely lifting his gaze form the screen in front of him.

“We could go down and check it out. You said you wanted to leave town, so we could go there.”

“I’m not sure we should be jumping into any possible hunts at the moment… besides, animal attacks? Yeah, that happens this time of year – doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean sighed and placed the paper on the bed beside him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed; he stood up and strode over to the table. His brow creased as he watched Sam quickly gaze up before stretching his fingers neatly across the keyboard and going back to staring at the screen, “What you looking at Sammy?”

“Just looking for answers.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. What you hiding Sam?” His tone became more serious than playful.

Sam rolled his eyes but other than that gave no response to his brother. He wasn’t trying to hide anything, he just didn’t want Dean overreacting about what he was looking at.

“I’m not a computer genius but I do know a shortcut when I see one.” Dean said as he rounded Sam, standing back and to the side a bit so he had a clear view of the laptop screen, pointing to the tabs on the taskbar he smiled and continued, “I also know that Alt and F4 works a hell of a lot better than the tab when you’re trying to hide something.”

“This coming from a guy who doesn’t ever know about MySpace?” Sam teased, lifting a hand up to pull the laptop closed.

“Nah-ah, Sammy. First you show me what you’re hiding.” Dean demanded, gripping Sam’s wrist to stop him closing the laptop.

Reluctantly, when Dean let go, Sam reopened the Internet window he had wanted to keep his brother from seeing. He could feel Dean’s temper rising as the air around them both began to tense and thicken, “Dean…”

“You’re looking for answers then?” Dean asked stoically, voice even and flat, “And you think you’ll find them somewhere between Abraxas and Fera..fer… whatever that name is?”

“Maybe, yeah.” Sam defended, “They’re fire demons, or they’re known to be associated with fire… I was just looking.”

Spinning around and away from his brother, Dean ran a hand roughly through his hair, “So you think whatever this thing is that’s going on with me… you think it’s caused by a demon?”

“Dean… I don’t know what’s causing it. That’s why I’m looking. When… when you were out the demon he said – he said you weren’t one of his…”

“So you both assume some other demon has laid its claim on me?”

“It’s not like that. I wanna rule that out, I really do but as it is… we’ve got nothing. You. Don’t. Burn. It’s not normal, something is causing it.”

“Ever thought it might be a good thing?” Dean asked, his voice small, breaking towards the end of the question. He turned his face down and grabbed his coat, making sure the Impala keys were in the pocket.

Sam pushed his chair back and away from the table, jumping up to his feet, “Where are you going?”

“For a drink.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“I don’t care.” Dean replied, turning back with a sad smile on his face, “I just… I can’t fight with you about this.”

But before Sam got a chance to reply, Dean was out the door and Sam was left staring at the spot where he had been standing, “I’m not asking you to…”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After climbing into his black beauty, Dean paused for a moment, simply staring at the motel room door. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, maybe he half hoped Sam would walk out and try to stop him… or even offer to come along. He hated taking his anger and frustration out on Sam, and he hated fearing that Sam was right and that above all else, they’d have another major demon player to fight against.

He turned the engine on and put the car into reverse, making his way towards one of the bars he’d seen earlier. Nothing made sense, there had been no signs that another demon was toying with them… so why did it have to be a demon? Surely having one demon trying to use both the boys was bad enough without bringing another one into the fray.

Closing his eyes only briefly as he travelled along the dimly lit road, he thought about his dreams… about the fire woman who looked so much like his mom and about the sudden appearance of the demon. That had been confusing to say the least.

Ignoring his thoughts, the sight of a local bar caught his eye. It looked empty, but after a quick glance at the time he wasn’t surprised, so he pulled up out front and locked the Impala. The bar itself was littered with empty stools, except for the one or two that held the town regulars, and he quickly chose one near the entrance, leaning forwards on the surface, elbows resting neatly.

“What you after?” The barman asked as he placed the glass he’d been wiping back down.

“Whiskey.” He replied dryly, “Any type you got.”

Nodding, the barman returned shortly after with a glass and bottle leaving Dean alone with his thoughts once again. He didn’t have time to think long before he was disturbed by a soft clearing of the throat beside him.

“Hello there.” Said a cheery voice that belonged to a young woman, breaking Dean from his silent trance. She carefully slid herself onto the stool next to Dean and he gave her the quick once over. Cute, very cute. Short blond hair framed her face and the lighting made her eyes almost seem to glow a soft amber. She wasn’t just cute, she was beautiful.

“Hi.” He smiled politely back and tilted his glass towards her, “Drink?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Got one right here.” She raised the glass in her hand before placing it neatly on the bar in front.

“So what brings you over here Miss…?”

“Rebecca. Call me Becky. I saw how well, miserable you looked and thought you needed some cheering up. Surely there’s nothing that bad?”

“You’d be surprised Becky.” He snorted, raising his drink to his lips.

“I don’t think I would Dean.” She smiled, shaking her head slightly.

Dean froze, retracing the conversation with the girl beside him and he couldn’t once remember giving her his name. Hell, he was pretty sure he hadn’t even used his name since entering the joint. And normally when someone knew his name, it wasn’t a good sign and it was normally supernatural.

“Relax. I’m one of the good guys.” She chirped but he didn’t relax.

“And if I believed everyone who told me that I’d have been dead along time ago.”

“Fine but I’m only here to help.”

“I’m pretty good thanks. Don’t need help.”

“Oh yeah? So what about these dreams?”

“What about my dreams?”

“Look, you know your Mom would never lie to you and she would certainly never hurt you. You do know that right?”

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken, “My Mom’s dead. She couldn’t lie to me or hurt me.”

“So you know that’s not her in the dreams?”

“Of course I know but if you’re so physic then you should already know that.”

“I’m not physic but I just wanted to make sure you knew.” She laughed, taking a swig of her own drink.

“Are you high or something? Seriously… what the hell do you want?”

“You’re lost Dean, anyone can see it. You’re worried as well. You shouldn’t be. You’re a good guy. This fire thing… it’s nothing to do with demons. No one’s done this to you.”

“Okay… so why don’t I burn?” Dean asked viciously, not caring that he didn’t even know the girl sitting next him but she seemed to know him and she had answers.

“You did it.” She said simply, as if he should have known the answer all along.

“Oh right, I see. It must have been one of those hoodoo rituals I don’t remember performing.” Dean laughed cruelly, downing the last of his drink and motioning for another one.

“Don’t be silly,” She giggled, “You made a trade.”

“A… a trade?”

“You know, like a deal… you give something in order to get something else.”

“What did I trade?” He asked, tight throat barely allowing the words to be squeezed out.

“Me.” She answered, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as she looked into his sorrowful eyes and felt tears rising in her own.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Forgotten

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Disbelief flooded though Dean as he stared into the eyes of the beautiful stranger. He shook his head, unwilling to believe what she was telling him but somehow, the pieces seemed to fit, “I don’t understand.”

“And it’s probably better that way.” She answered, biting her lower lip and shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze.

“But… did I… did I kill you?” He looked away and into his empty glass, cringing as the thought passed his lips.

“Dean, you’re a good guy…” She began to fidget, eyes drifting around in a nervous manner, “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have come. I thought I could explain but…”

“But what?” He pleaded, looking back at her as she pushed herself up from her seat.

“I have to… I can’t…” Her ambers eyes looked directly into him and it felt like she was staring straight into his soul, “I’m sorry Dean.”

“No.” Dean stood up with her as she backed away; shaking her head, “Wait!”

He reached out a hand to grab her arm but she moved to quickly, spinning on her heel and swiftly moving towards the bathroom, “Dean… you don’t understand but it’s for the better.”

Before he could say anything in reply, she was through the door and Dean was sure he heard the lock click into place. Shoulders sinking in a defeated way, he simply stared at the door unable to think after being hit with the blow of what he’d been told.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Eyes glistening with tears, Becky paced the small bathroom, mumbling incoherently to herself as her hands moved about her person, as if afraid stopping would ‘cause something bad to happen. She growled and stamped her foot on the discoloured tiled floor, “What on earth was I thinking?”

Deciding that pacing was getting her nowhere she pushed her body towards the lone sink with a mirror above it and splashed cool water onto her face. After a few deep breaths she managed to steady herself enough to look up and into her reflection, the second she did her eyes narrowed and her voice was low and harsh.

“You have no business being here!” She told her reflection.

“From what I overheard, neither do you.” Her reflection replied as it cocked its head to the side, eyes no longer the soft amber but a murky yellow instead.

“That was not for you to hear.” She growled.

The reflection simply shrugged, a wicked smile sliding into place, “I always wondered why that boy had such bad luck.”

“You leave him alone demon!”

“Not much you can really do about that, now is there?” The yellow eyes winked at her, mocking her.

“You have no right to…” She muttered threateningly.

“Must have hurt, right? Him just throwing you away as if you were nothing - as if you didn’t matter? I bet it did. I bet it broke your little heart.”

“He didn’t throw me away!”

“Still hurts though, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve never gotten over it. Must be hard when a charge fires you like that? Right, angel?”

Her back straightened and her shoulders became rigid as she tried her best to ignore the demons taunts. Her eyes immediately snapped to the door as a gentle rapping sounded and Dean’s muffled voice came from the opposite side.

“Becky? You okay in there?”

She gazed longingly at the door. She had to warn him… had to let him know that he didn’t do anything wrong before the demon had a chance to twist the truth. But as she opened her mouth to answer, her reflection vanished. She stared in puzzlement at the mirror on the wall, unable to see herself and unable to see the dark figure standing behind her.

A rough hand grabbed her shoulder and twisted her around, a muttered incantation locking her body in place. Yellow eyes glinted momentarily before the figure turned to a thick black smoke and launched itself into her shell, pushing her consciousness down into the recesses of her own mind. She was barely aware of the scream that ripped through her throat.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Leaning against the door, Dean could hear Becky’s muffled voice and though he couldn’t hear the words, it sounded like she was arguing with herself. A hand tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, a young waitress stood there with a tray in her hand and a knowing look on her face.

“Usually when a girl refuses to come out the bathroom, they’re waiting for the guy to go away.” She said with an apologetic but extremely smarmy look upon her features.

He gave her a smile and a nod that clearly stated her input into the situation was not appreciated and in reply she shrugged and moved on. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Becky, gently knocking at the door he called out, “Becky? You okay in there?”

Silence. He turned away and leaned his back against the door, sighing deeply. He lifted his hand heavily and ran it across his face, exhausted and in desperate need of answers. He didn’t have to wait much longer before a scream echoed through the door and brought his hunters instincts to attention. Spinning around from his position, he pounded a fist on the door.

“Becky! Becky! Open the door!” He demanded. The waitress from before came back over, her face no longer smug but worried.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He growled at her and pulled her away from the door, roughly trying the handle, “You got a key to this door?”

She shook her head and glanced at the bartender, “Been lost for awhile now…”

“Damn it.” He swore and raised his boot, ready to kick the door open.

“Woah, wait! That’s my bathroom door.” The bartender called.

Dean shot an aggravated glance at the man, “There’s a girl on the other side of this door that could be badly hurt, you wanna take the time to pick the lock?”

The man seemed to shrink at the sound of Dean’s commanding tone and shook his head. Once again, Dean raised his boot and kicked the door. It barely moved the first time, the second time the hinges seemed to shake and the third time he was through. Bursting into the room, Becky lay sprawled across the disgusting bathroom floor, completely unmoving.

He quickly fell to his knees next to the young girl, pressing his fingers against her neck to feel a strong but extremely fast pulse, “Becky? Come on; time to wake up… come on.”

He tried to coax the girl but she showed no signs of opening her eyes any time soon. He moved her head gently to the side and could feel a slight sticking lump, looking closer he saw a cut where she must have hit the floor, “Damn it…”

“Is she okay?” The frightened waitress asked, “She’s not… she’s not de..dead… is she?”

“No… she’s not dead.” Dean looked up, “She’s got a nasty cut and she’s not waking up though, I need to get her out of here so I can fix her up… think you can help me?”

She nodded weakly, moving closer, “What do I do?”

Digging into his pockets he handed her the keys to the Impala, “Follow me out, I’ll carry her. I just need you to unlock and open the door… I can’t do it myself.”

“We should call an ambulance… shouldn’t we?” The waitress asked, taking the keys from him.

He shook his head as he bent over and hefted Becky into his arms, “It’ll be quicker if I take her… by the time they get here she would have already been seen to.”

Nodding again, as if it was the only thing she really remembered how to do, the waitress followed Dean, opening doors for him. When they reached the Impala and Becky was safely on the backseat, Dean took the keys from the waitress and thanked her, telling her that it’d be okay.

“Make sure…. Make sure she gets seen to.”

“I will.” Dean replied, started the engine and rolling away from the bar. Adrenaline rushed any lingering alcohol out of his system, clearing his mind enough to tell him that he should warn Sam about their new visitor.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

On the table next to him, the phone began to vibrate violently, tuneful music playing through the motel room. Sam glanced at the clock and narrowed his eyes; Dean hadn’t been gone long enough to get into trouble, surely?

“Hello?” He answered warily, unsure whether it would be Dean’s voice on the line or someone declaring they’d kidnapped him or worse.

“Sam… I erm… I’m bringing a girl back with me to the motel.” Dean informed his brother, unsure how to put it into words.

“Urgh, Dean! I really don’t need to know that. If you want me out the way… just tell me.” Sam sighed, slightly disgusted.

“No you dumbass! Something happened to her and she’s injured. Won’t wake up…”

“Take her to the hospital.” Sam suggested, brows furrowing as he noted the tightness in his brother’s voice.

Dean bit his lip and looked at his still unconscious passenger, “I can’t Sam… I think she knows something about… about why I’m…”

“Fireproof?” Sam suggested, unable to hide the shock from his voice, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll… I’ll explain when I get there… I don’t know but I don’t like it Sam…”

Faintly, Sam thought he heard the sound of moaning from through the phone, “Dean… what’s going on?”

“I think she’s dreaming…”

“Don’t say it.” Becky mumbled from the backseat, memories taking over her mind as the darkness still held its hold on her, “Dean… I’m sorry… please don’t.”

Dean froze, blood running cold as he listened to the pleading girl. His voice shook as he quickly told Sam he had to go but he’d see him soon, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he’d done to the girl in the backseat.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Past

At five years old, Dean Winchester was a very quiet child and extremely reserved – even more so as it neared the anniversary of his mother’s death. He also had a habit of worrying over things some would deem as silly and others as downright stupid but sometimes they were the right things to worry about.

“Daddy?” Dean’s tentative voice called out from the dark doorway and John turned his head to look at his son.

“Hey kiddo, what you doing up?” He asked. His voice was deep and worried, eyes searching for any sign of scarring or bruises.

Dean walked over to where his father was sitting and just stood, biting his lip slightly as he mumbled his answer, “I was waiting for you – wanted to ask a question.”

“And what’s that?” John smiled, pulling his eldest onto his knee.

“The fire that took Mommy… it wanted Sammy too, didn’t it?”

John swallowed hard and looked at his son whose eyes were pleading for his father to make things all right, “What makes you say that?”

The boy half shrugged but John already knew the answer, he’d thought about the same thing many times over the past year – after what he’d seen in Sam’s nursery how could he not?

“The fire’s gone Dean. It can’t have Sammy. We saved him. You saved him. You made sure the fire wasn’t gonna have him.”

“But what if it comes back? What if it tries to take Sammy away?”

“It won’t Dean. It can’t. Fire is fire… it doesn’t have conscious thought… it just is.” John sighed, knowing full well that supernatural beings were a different matter altogether.

“I wanna protect him.”

“I know you do but you want to know what I want? Right now, I want you to get some sleep, okay?”

Dean yawned and nodded, making to jump from his father’s knee but John stood up and kept hold of him, carrying him towards his bed. Dean laid his head on his father’s shoulder and John could tell he was nearly out of it as it was, it wouldn’t take much longer before he was asleep. As he laid his son on the bed and tucked him in, he couldn’t help but remember how Mary used to do it… God he missed her.

“Remember the angels kiddo.”

“I’d trade every one of those angels if I could keep Sammy safe from the fire.” Dean yawned again and closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to cuddle his pillow.

“I know you would.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Follow You Home

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean ran his hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to avoid listening to the moaning girl on the back seat. He glanced through the mirror and at the girl’s pale reflection, clammy and pained. She mumbled incoherently and Dean wished he knew what she was dreaming about, though he doubted he really wanted to know.

Finally the motel came into sight and he pulled up as neatly as he could, narrowly avoiding hitting the curb in front. He was sure if he held his hand out it would be shaking, so instead he formed fists and took a deep breath before creaking the door open and retrieving the girl from the back seat. He used his foot to tap at the door and called through the thin wood, desperation taking hold.

“Dean?” Sam gasped as he held the door open, allowing Dean to pass him into the room, “You gonna tell me who the hell she is?”

“She said her name was Becky…” Dean answered, placing her gently on his bed before taking several steps backwards to just simply stare at her.

“And she’s the one that… knows something?” Sam pushed.

“I dunno… I think so… but then she – I don’t know what happened to her.”

“Well that’s helpful.”

Dean shook his head, eyes still refusing to leave the girl’s form. “Sam… I think I did something bad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She said…” But he couldn’t finish, breaking off and away from the possibility. Finally he turned and glanced at his brother’s puzzled features momentarily before dropping his gaze.

Sam took a step forward towards his brother, bending his head and shoulders to try and catch Dean’s eyes, “Dean… we don’t even know this girl. Whatever she told you… she could have been lying.”

“I hurt her Sam…” Dean admitted, “I could see it in her eyes…”

“What are you supposed to have done, huh? How did you hurt her? You couldn’t hurt anyone Dean… you’re not the bad guy.”

“She said I traded her… said that’s why I have this ‘thing’.” Dean looked up helplessly, eyes lost and distant, “There’s something about her Sam. It’s like I remember her somehow but I don’t know why - I feel like I should know who she is. I know I should.”

“So what… you suddenly got bored of one of your dates and decided, ‘wouldn’t it be cool to be fireproof’, that it? ‘Cause that doesn’t sound like you.”

“Dean…” Came a small voice from the bed and the brothers froze, turning to look at the fragile girl blinking her eyes open. Her gaze flicked to Sam, taking him in, before landing on Dean as her eyes swelled up with tears. Her voice trembled as she spoke again, pleading, “Dean…”

Dean swallowed hard and stood completely still, “Becky, you fainted… or something… I thought..”

“You thought what?” Her voice was as tiny as her eyes wide. Dean felt physically sick as he noted the fear in her tone, Sam however was not impressed.

“He’s only trying to help. You turn up out of nowhere and tell him… whatever… which could all be lies and he’s trying to help.”

“Help? The damage has been done. It can’t be taken back!”

“And what damage is that? You look perfectly fine to me.”

“I watched my entire family burn! And now I’m gonna do the same. You have no idea how it feels… knowing exactly what you’re doing and being completely unable to stop yourself. And it’s all because of him.” She pointed dramatically at Dean, her voice caught in a sea of emotions

Dean refused to look at the girl, his eyes searching the room for something else, anything else, to watch so he didn’t have to watch her.

“You gave me up to the demons Dean… you traded me…”

“Why would I do that?” Dean asked, voice low. If what the girl was saying was true, he needed to know why, especially since he couldn’t remember.

“I’m sorry.” The girl said suddenly, her head bowed and eyes staring at her lap, “I shouldn’t have found you.”

“Why did you?” Sam demanded, no pity playing in his voice.

“I just thought… I thought that somehow… you could take it back.” She sobbed and buried her face into her hands, “I thought you’d at least remember me and what you did.”

Sam glanced at his brother, guilt evident in his eyes, though Sam had no idea how Dean could trust what the stranger was saying. He needed answers, if only for Dean’s sake. They needed to hear the full story… and Sam needed to hear anything that cleared Dean’s name.

“I should leave… I’ve got to go…” Becky stammered, voice muffled by her hands.

Sam shot her a quick look and practically spat his next words at her, “We’re not stopping you.”

She nodded and looked up, eyes going from Sam to Dean and then resting on the door. With a shaky hand, she pushed herself up from the bed and moved passed the brothers and towards the door, placing her hand on the handle. She paused, the demon inside sensing movement from Dean. He could feel that the eldest was hesitant to just allow the only person with answers to walk out the door. But when he didn’t voice it, the demon turned the handle and stepped out of the warm motel room and into the cold night air.

“Sam, I need to know.” Dean said quietly, making to move towards the door.

Sam grabbed his brother’s upper arm tightly and stilled his movements, “She’s lying Dean. She’s just some twisted girl who wants to screw with our minds. You can’t trust her.”

“Then why does some of what she says feel true?” Dean argued and broke away from his brother’s grip to follow Becky out of the door. He had the door closed behind him before Sam had any other chances to dispute and was searching the area for the young girl.

“Becky?” He called out, puzzled when he couldn’t see her anywhere.

“What Dean?” She asked from just behind him, standing in the shadows.

“Whatever I did… I want to reverse it. I want to help you.”

“What makes you think you can?”

“I have to be able to.” He pleaded.

She stepped forward and slightly out of the shadows, a glint of yellow passing momentarily across her eyes and if Dean saw it, he didn’t think anything of it… he would have put it down to the non-exist passing car headlights. He watched her as she shook her head, “It’s not like you can just take it back.”

“Then what?”

A twisted smile wound its way onto her face as he came towards her, “You could take my place.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“It could you instead of me… it’d be better that way. You’d be saving me. You’d be saving Sam.”

“This has nothing to do with Sam.” Dean’s voice hardened.

“You’re only going to get him hurt if you keep going on like this. When it all comes down to it, who should you be protecting him from – the demons or yourself?”

“I can’t.”

“You owe me! You traded me for your own selfish desires. You destroyed my life. It’s the least you could do.” She grabbed his wrist, her grip tighter than a normal human being and her nails digging into his skin, “Or are you a coward Dean?”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Figured You Out

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam stared at the door for several moments before he found his mind returning. There was something seriously wrong here and he needed to get Dean to understand before he did something stupid. Before he even took the first step towards the door though, a blinding pain flashed through his head, nearly bringing him to his knees. The flash turned to a pounding and stabbing pain that constantly thrummed, causing spots to dance in front of his eyes until he no longer saw the motel room in front of him but a glimpse of something else entirely.

There was fire. It scorched through his mind and screamed like the man he saw, engulfed in flames. A flash of yellow eyes slammed into his before they turned a soft and sorrowful amber. And then the glimpses stopped and the vision played out in full.

It was Becky and Dean, the hand she had wrapped tightly around his wrist began to burn at his skin as his brother tried to pull away, confusion and betrayal etched deep into his eyes. The hand was a mass of flames, slowly extending and twisting around Dean’s arm, working upwards like a snake.

“Let got of me.” Dean warned.

“You walk a fine line between good and evil Dean… how long before you’re completely over it? How long before you become one of the things you hunt?”

“You know nothing about me.” But Sam saw the hesitation lingering on Dean’s features as he contemplated the girl’s words.

“Maybe I know everything about you.”

Her eyes flashed yellow and her mouth opened wide, the black smoke billowing from her, thick and hateful. And then the smoke slammed into Dean, causing him to stagger backwards a moment as it entered him.

His eyes didn’t turn yellow. His lips didn’t turn up in a malicious smirk. Instead, he stared at Becky and blinked before his knees gave way and he ended up disoriented on the ground. Becky dropped down beside him, her eyes filling up with tears as she tried to steady and stop him from falling any further.

“Oh God! Dean! No… no… please. Dean. I’m so sorry! Please don’t… no…” She muttered, trying to catch his unfocused eyes.

Once again, fire engulfed the scene, taking Sam away from the vision and back to the motel room. He panted heavily as he tried to make sense of what he’d just seen. One thing he knew for sure was that the yellow eyed bastard was involved. The knowledge spurred Sam forwards, forgetting about the throbbing headache that lingered as he grabbed the shotgun leaning lone against one of the walls and swung the door open, stepping out.

He heard Becky first… only it wasn’t Becky… they didn’t even know who Becky was, she could just be some poor civilian who’d been dragged into their fight. Spinning on his heel, he saw the pair of them and before Dean had a chance to protest against the flames rising up his arm Sam opened his mouth and called out to the demon.

“Get the hell away from my brother!”

“This has nothing to do with you.” The demon hissed.

“So what? I’m just a side order now? What about the rest of your damn psychic kids?” Sam spat, inching forwards towards them.

The demon smiled, eyes turning yellow, and Dean’s brows knitted together; one impressed and the other completely confused.

“What gave me away? ‘Cause I thought I was doing a pretty good job.”

“Of lying to my brother? Telling him that he traded you?”

“Oh, that part was true. He did trade my host… but you don’t even remember, do you Dean?”

“You son of a bitch.” Dean ground out, wrist still firmly held by the demon but that didn’t stop him from trying to wriggle free.

“Wanna know what you traded this fine specimen for?” The demon taunted, amber returning softly to the angel’s eyes, “’Cause it’s gonna be a kick in the teeth when you find out. She remembers it so vividly, like it all happened yesterday.”

“Let go of me.” Dean growled, not caring for anymore demon lies.

The demon leaned in close to Dean, whispering into his ear, “‘I’d trade every one of those angels if I could keep Sammy safe from the fire.’”

Dean stilled, the whispered words sounding familiar to him… ringing at some distant bell from the past. He could feel Sam moving ever closer behind him but found himself ignoring him, focusing on the demon’s next words instead.

“Well, I guess the big guy listens sometimes… see, you might not remember Becky but she sure remembers you. Imagine the life you could have had Dean, your own guardian angel to look out for you? And you gave it all up… like you give everything up… and for what? For Sammy?”

“Shut up.” Dean breathed out, from meeting Becky in the bar and the demon’s lies in the motel room up until here… he knew for once that the demon was telling the truth. Gripping his wrist, a fire scorching its way up his arm, was a possessed angel.

“But you don’t believe in God, do you? Don’t believe in angels… or anything good for that matter, right? Guess you gave that up when you gave up poor Becky.”

Sam raised the shotgun so the barrels were pointed at the demon, trouble was that meant they were also pointed at Dean, “Let. My. Brother. Go.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me Sam.” The demon laughed, yellow eyes trained on the youngest Winchester’s, “You could seriously hurt one of us.”

“Hurt is better than dead.” Sam stated flatly.

“I’m not gonna kill either of yo-”

“That’s not what I saw in my vision!” He interrupted.

Dean’s puzzled gaze snapped towards Sam but before he could ask what Sam meant, the demon jumped in.

“Saaam…” It started in a ‘I’m trying to be reasonable here’ style voice.

“No! I know what I saw! You were… killing him from the inside.”

“No… not killing. Poisoning I guess would be a better term.”

“Poisoning…” Dean repeated, his thoughts colliding with one another inside his mind as he tried to make sense of everything, “Yeah… that’s much better than killing…”

The demon smirked at Dean’s sarcasm, “Always the same, aren’t you? Same tricks, same defence. Same old Dean Winchester. I can read it in your eyes… you want to kill me, you’ve got a whole list of ways you’d like to do it, you know none of them would work but you still wanna try. You wanna see me suffer… I’m a demon Dean… suffering ain’t new to me.”

“Like I give a damn.”

“Presactly, you got a bit of demon in you yourself.” The demon went on, the flames still licking at Dean’s arm. Leaning in close to Dean’s ear, it added, “I just wanna bring it to the surface more.”

“Back the hell off!” Sam called out, aiming the rifle at the ground and letting a round off before raising it once again to lock on the demon, “I mean it!”

“I don’t think that’s wise Sammy.”

As the demon said the words, the flames seemed to dig into Dean’s arm causing a hiss from the elder Winchester. The pain burst through his body, nearly sending him to his knees but he steadied himself in the demons grip and tried to keep his breathing steady.

“What do you want from us?” Sam’s voice was low but deadly as he continued staring directly at the demon, hiding the panic that rose in him from seeing Dean in pain.

The demon cocked its head to the side as it thought about the question and thought about what answer would be appropriate. It had the option to lie… it was a demon, it always had the option to lie. But he wondered if that would be the best way to go about it, to lie and say he wanted the boy’s powers, to say he only wanted to use them to win the demon war that was coming… “Soldiers are important Sammy, in any war, they are vital but so are Generals. You Sam, you’re my favourite, you know that? I want you to command my army. As for your brother, Dean… if I can turn him, then you’ll follow.”

Not really a lie… just not the whole truth. He had more plans for Dean other than just a step towards making Sam evil. Both boys had potential, Sam definitely had smarts about him, he was General material, that was true. And Dean… Dean was a killer. And it had been proven time and time again that Dean would do anything for his brother… a General was bound to get enemies that need disposing of… bound to get distractions that the demon really couldn’t afford to have.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Flavour of the Weak

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Go to hell!” Dean snarled.

“Not gonna happen Dean.” The demon smiled cockily before adding, “If I go then I’m taking you with me.”

“Whatever it takes.” Dean warned, eye flaring with rage, the reflection of the flames adding to the menace.

“Do you want to die? To suffer? Like your Daddy?”

In reply Dean growled and so the demon went on in a quieter tone so only he could hear, “When you could live? Have everything you ever wanted? Anyone you ever wanted?”

“I’m just a means to an end, you’ve already said that much. You only want my brother and I won’t let you have him.”

“You’re having neither of us.” Sam barked defiantly, cocking the rifle to remind the demon of its presence. He couldn’t pull the trigger, he knew that and the demon knew that but it made him feel that little bit more in control… even though he knew he wasn’t.

“I already have you both. You just don’t know it yet.” With the flick of an eyebrow, the shotgun was ripped from Sam’s hands and the demon shrugged its shoulders. A nod of the head and Sam was on his knees, hands reaching up to his neck as an invisible grip cut off his air supply.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Sam fall, fighting for the oxygen his lungs so desperately needed. The fire that wrapped its way around his arm began to grow stronger, flames flickering higher. The demon hissed in pain and released the still burning arm, backing off to cradle a scorched hand. Dean’s head snapped towards Becky as her eyes flickered from yellow to amber and back again, the smile turning into a scornful one.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” The demon mocked, eyes travelling over Dean and landing on the angry flames, “You best control that anger Deano, you could hurt someone.”

Dean’s gaze dropped to his arm, worry growing when the flames refused to stop burning, even after the demon had let go. He heard Sam to his side, finally able to breathe again, and he lifted his eyes just in time to meet the demons before an invisible force threw him backwards and out onto the road, his body colliding painfully with the ground. His vision wavered momentarily, threatening to be consumed by white light, and when he finally regained himself, the demon was walking away from the scene, not even caring to look back.

Next thing he knew, Sam was by his side doing the usual Winchester check list. Breathing… conscious… no signs of bleeding…

“Dean?”

“I’m okay.” He answered, though he could tell Sam was far from convinced, “What about you?”

“I’m fine…” The youngest Winchester replied, helping his brother to stand before grabbing Dean’s arm and pulling a disgusted face. There were no signs that there had ever been any flames but it was clear where the demon had dug its nails in. The veins were raised and dark, definite need for concern.

“He’s gone…” Dean said vaguely, eyes staring at the empty car park, unaware of the condition of his arm.

“Dean, we need to sort this out… it looks nasty…”

“What you talking about?” Dean frowned, still staring ahead distractedly.

Sam grabbed the back of his brother’s head and forced him to look down at his arm, “This Dean, I’m talking about this.”

Dean immediately pulled his arm from Sam’s grip and turned away. He chanced a second look at the messy scratches and discoloured veins. There was no way in hell, heaven or earth; that was fine.

“It’s nothing Sam.” He lied.

“Nothing? Would it be nothing if it was me?” The youngest Winchester challenged.

“Don’t Sam… I’m not in the mood to go through this with you.”

“When will you be in the mood? You just brought the demon back wit-“

“Don’t you think I know that?” Dean shouted, interrupting Sam mid word, “Don’t you think I know it’s my fault?”

“I never said that… I didn’t mean to imply…”

“It’s the truth. And now the demon is doing God knows what to her… and it’s all my fault…”

“You don’t know that.”

“I was talking to her in the bar… And it was her. I know it was. It wasn’t the demon. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight…”

“For God’s sake Dean! You. Didn’t. Know.”

Dean hung his head and stared at the ground. Sam didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know the truth; he didn’t know who Becky really was – what Becky really was. And Dean couldn’t bring himself to tell him. How could he? Dean closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath, his chest hurting as the air forced its way into his lungs. What happened to an angel when a charge ‘fired’ it? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he didn’t know for sure.

Sam’s hand gripped his shoulder, making him suddenly realise how unsteady he was feeling. He opened his eyes and lifted his gaze so he was staring directly at his younger brother. He couldn’t speak though; he couldn’t explain how confused he was.

“Come on Dean, let’s get inside.” Sam spoke gently and lead Dean back towards the motel room, “We’ll figure this out I promise.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That had been unexpected to say the least. It had made the demon angry at first, but now he was beginning to like the idea and it was all because Sam had been in trouble. Dean wasn’t just fireproof… he was able to manipulate the fire... able to make it grow. The possibilities that could come from that if Dean was just willing to learn how to control it, eventually he’d be able to actually use the fire.

It could also be dangerous though. If he didn’t manage to sway the brothers over before Dean figured out what he was really capable of, then it would mean trouble.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I’d trade every one of those angels if I could keep Sammy safe from the fire.

The words played around in Dean’s head as he lay there, lost and empty on the motel bed. Sam lay still on the bed next to his but he could tell that he was still awake. Both of them were, too many thoughts running around their heads to let them rest.

Sam had cleaned up his arm as best he could, he’d even poured holy water on the wounds and though Dean didn’t admit it, it had stung like hell. He was sure Sam had seen him tense but the youngest hadn’t spoken a word. Neither of them did. They just stayed silent and once the wound was dressed, they both undressed and climbed into their respective beds.

The words still echoed around his head, like a broken record. It was the demon at first, using Becky’s voice but then the voice gradually morphed into one he didn’t know or at least hadn’t heard for a very long time.

It was a small voice that was full of trust and hope and innocence. The voice didn’t belong in Dean’s head. It was far too pure. He found it hard to believe he’d ever sounded like that but then again, this voice had existed to a child that had only glimpsed the darkness and hadn’t actually lived in it.

Dean had been living in it for too long. It scared him that maybe the demon was right.

“Dean?” Sam spoke suddenly, interrupting Dean’s thoughts.

But Dean just closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing even, pretending he was asleep. He heard Sam sigh and felt his heart clench with pain, he opened his mouth to apologise but the words didn’t make it out, instead they turned into a sigh that mimicked his brothers.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Fire in the Hole

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Bright orange, burning fire surrounded him. Everything was burning. Every surface had a flame spreading across it that turned whatever it touched gradually to a thick black ash. Smoke clouded his view of the room he was in but even though he couldn’t make out the details, he recognised the odd shapes. It was a child’s room… a baby’s room. And the baby cried, lying all alone in the crib. The fire crept towards it, threatening to engulf both crib and baby.

His heart hammered, sweat dripped from every pore as the temperature kept on rising. He had to save the baby; he had to get the baby out of there. Crouching low, he made his way towards the crib, coughing as the smoke found its way into his lungs. The flames licked at the crib now, climbing slowly up the legs and towards the cotton. Quicker than he thought he could, he plunged his arms into the crib and pulled the baby out, mere moments before the whole thing caught fire.

“It’s okay… I’ve got you.” He whispered, cradling the baby, “It’s okay Sammy, I won’t let it get you.”

He felt a heavy but gentle handle fall on his shoulder and the scene transformed. He was a kid again, no more than four years old, staring at his world burning away – the only home he would ever know disappearing as the fire consumed it all, along with the mother he loved so deeply. He held little Sammy tightly in his arms and his father held him tightly in his.

“You can’t hold onto him forever Dean.” His father whispered gently into his ear as he tried to coax young Sam out of Dean’s grip.

“But I can try.” Dean replied, unwilling to let go.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Dean?” Sam moaned, turning over in his half sleep to look towards his brother’s bed.

Dean groaned painfully in reply and Sam lifted his head from his pillow a little to get a better look. The room was dimly lit but Sam could see the thin layer of sweat on the eldest Winchester’s skin.

“Dean?” He repeated, pulling himself up further and out from the covers, “You okay man?”

When he didn’t reply, Sam reached out and switched the lamp on that sat on the cabinet between the beds. Dean’s face was pale and sickly, eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids and his breathing was uneven, quick in places and slow to the point of stopping in others. The dressing on the wounded arm was soaked in black.

Sam shot to his brother’s side immediately, grabbing the arm to get a better look. Whatever the black was it wasn’t blood - that much Sam knew. It felt sticky; as he peeled the bandage away he was reminded of hot summer days when the tar on the road would melt. The thick black substance made it hard to peel the wrapping away and Sam was extra careful as he tried to separate it from Dean’s skin.

Taking a deep breath, Sam got to his feet and grabbed the small tin bin on his way to the bathroom. Emptying the contents onto the floor, he filled the bin with water and picked up a couple of towels and the first aid kit to take back to Dean. The tar like stuff came away from the skin easier than Sam thought.

Ten minutes later and Sam had washed most of it off until he could once again see the skin of Dean’s arm. The veins were raised like thin stripes going up and down the arm, dark and black.

“Son of bitch.” Sam cursed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

His vision was consumed by the fire, flickering and crackling. The noises surrounding him slowly died out around him until they were all gone, somewhere in the background he could hear his father talking. The load in his arms changed and he realised he was no longer holding little Sammy but was hugging his knees in tight.

He blinked and burrowed his brow. A second ago he was four years old and hugging Sam tightly while he watched his home burn to the ground and now… Now he was sitting in front of a fireplace, watching the fire dance in front of his eyes.

“Dean, come away from there.” His father called to him and he looked up and over his shoulder.

John was standing by the wall, a phone held tightly in his hands. His eyes stared hard at his young son. He stayed like that until Dean shifted and made to sit on the old and seriously fugly red and dirty orange couch. Once John resumed his conversation, Dean glanced at his surroundings once again.

He remembered this place. It was a small depressing cabin surrounded by trees, tall old trees. He remembered the trees; he remembered how he’d been so small that he couldn’t see the top of them. He must have been about six and it had been a really cold summer.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched his father, standing there strong and proud - a John who still had so much to learn about the ways of hunting, a John who hadn’t been hardened into a general who would treat his sons like soldiers… not yet.

But Dean was only dreaming… he realised it now. He was deep in some weird slumber land that was giving him a trip down memory lane.

Hanging up the phone, John turned to face Dean once again, glancing into the background for mere moments, “Where’s Sammy, Dean?”

“Wha?” Dean asked, the simple words seeming incomprehensible.

“Your brother Dean, where is he? I told you to look after him.” John asked again, shaking his head in disappointment.

The words made it through this time and Dean looked around him. He could see a stuffed teddy bear that belonged to little Sammy but no Sammy, “I… I don’t know.”

“For God sakes Dean! Ten minutes, that’s all I ask. Ten minutes while I make a phone call.” John blurted out angrily, starting a frantic search of the room, “Well don’t just sit there, look for him.”

Dean flinched at his father’s harsh words and shot up from the couch, immediately joining the search. It was a matter of seconds before he noticed the front door and the small gap that meant it was open.

“This never happened.” Dean whispered; barely even realising he’d spoken the words out loud. He knew memories could be twisted and moulded but he also knew that he remembered every single mistake he had ever made, every single time that Sam had gone missing and every little scratch that Sam had ever gotten and this… this he didn’t remember and he knew it never happened.

“What?” John asked, looking over at his eldest. He was agitated and angry and was taking it out on the nearest target.

Dean gazed for awhile at his father for awhile before answering; knowing the rapid change in behaviour was more like the later John. He hesitated, “I said this never happened.”

“What the hell are you talking about Dean? This is happening now!”

Dean shook his head timidly, feeling like the six year old he’d been transformed into. “No… it’s not. I’m dreaming… this isn’t real. None of this is…”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

With shaking hands Sam unscrewed the holy water and poured it over the open wound, listening as it hissed as soon as it made contact. He cringed at the sound and had to take a deep steadying breath in order to keep a semi rational mind. He could only think to redress the wound and call the only person that he knew could really help them.

“Come on Bobby.” Sam begged when he finally got around to calling the long time family friend, “Answer the phone… answer the goddamn phone Bobby.”

His leg bounced violently as he rocked his foot impatiently against the ground and it got harder and hard to breathe the longer it took Bobby to answer. Silently, he repeated his pleads and groaned when they remained unanswered, nearly losing patience until finally Bobby picked up.

“Hallo?” He answered, like a man expecting bad news.

“Bobby! It’s Sam… we’re in trouble. The yellow eyed bastard came and Dean won’t wake up….” Sam blurted the words out before he had chance to think about what he was saying.

“Hold up… just, take it easy. Where are you?”

Sam’s mind went blank as he tried to think passed the immediate thoughts and stressing on his mind, the location stumbled from his lips in such a rush when it finally came that he had to repeat it so Bobby was sure.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep him cool and keep the wound as clean as you can.” Bobby ended the conversation and Sam could tell by the sound in his voice that he was already packing his things together to make his way to the boys.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

666

Fill my little world

666

Sam applied a cold wet cloth to Dean’s forehead, unsure whether or not it would help against whatever it was that was invading Dean’s system but he had to try at least. He took a deep and uneasy breath and tried to think. He knew it was the demon and something to do with the black stuff but he couldn’t recall ever reading anything like it before.

His eyes glanced at the clock and then towards the window. It had barely been two hours since he’d called Bobby and there was just no telling how close, or how far, Bobby was. Sam vaguely wondered what the elder hunter had been doing, whether he’d be at home or on a hunt somewhere. But he was being selfish, he didn’t care where Bobby was now or what he had been doing, he needed Bobby there to help them, to help Dean.

He heard Dean groan next to him and looked down once again, “Come on Dean, hang in there. We’ll figure it out, what ever it is.”

666

Dean felt his heart beating out of control in his chest, his hands trembling down at his side and palms sweating profusely as he tried to get a grip on the situation, whether it was real or not. His father stood there before him, eyes boring into him like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

“Dean, this really isn’t the time for this.” John’s voice was harsh as he spoke.

“You don’t understand.” Dean whispered, forcing his eyes away from his father’s.

John huffed angrily and turned away, continuing his search. Dean felt the disappointment radiate from him, it hit him so hard that he couldn’t find the words to tell John that he knew exactly where Sam had gone. The front door swung a little as a light breeze passed by it and into the room, bringing with it the crying from a small child.

“Sam…” Dean gasped, rushing at full speed towards the front door and out into what should have been the woodlands but instead was an empty classroom. It was a classroom like a lot of other classrooms, rows of desks and chairs set in a typical pattern.

“To be frank Mr. Winchester, I’m concerned about Dean.”

The voice came from behind him, back the way he had come but when he turned, he found himself facing a school’s quiet hallway instead of a lonely cabin. He peered down the hall until he saw his father talking with a woman of similar age. She looked familiar but not particularly memorable.

“He’s trying his best.” His father defended.

“I’m not sure this has anything to do with ‘trying’. Dean… he has a wild imagination Mr Winchester and it’s affecting his performance. When we do creative writing, I sometimes wonder if he actually believes in what he’s writing.”

John laughed as she choked the words out but as the conversation tugged at an old forgotten memory, Dean could only feel his heart tighten. He remembered that year; it was the year that truly labelled him as a freak to his peers and to himself.

“I don’t think this is all that humorous. I was thinking of referring Dean to the school counsellor before he becomes a danger to himself or others.”

“You can’t be serious. He’s a good kid…”

“Who has happened to be in more fights since coming here two months ago than students who have been here for years.”

Voices drifted in from the open window of the classroom, tearing his attention away from his father and the teacher and towards the commotion outside. He walked over slowly, listening carefully to the voices until he reached the window and they became clear.

666

He held the cloth under the tap once again, letting the cold invade every particle of it so that when he placed it back on Dean’s forehead it might stand a chance. His hands felt numb as he turned it over in idle thought, wondering how much longer until Bobby came. He’d redressed Dean’s arm twice, cleaning it thoroughly each time only for the same black goo to appear again. It seemed to have spread a little bit further along Dean’s veins each time Sam checked. The last time he looked it had spread past the write and the bottom of his hand all the way to his upper arm.

With his mind only on Dean, Sam turned the water off and wrung the excess water from the cloth before heading back to his brother. As he tried placing the cloth on Dean’s forehead, the eldest Winchester twisted away and groaned, mumbling under his breath incoherent words.

“Shh, Dean. It’s only me.” Sam whispered, trying once again with the cloth and this time succeeding with only mild mumblings coming from his brother.

Sam sat there silently, waiting and watching. Dean shifted occasionally, groaning and muttering and every time he did, Sam felt his heart twist helplessly. It wasn’t until headlights shone through the window that he felt any hope. He sprang up and towards the door, pulling it open before Bobby even had a chance to turn off the engine.

“Bobby!” He called.

Bobby grabbed a bag from the front seat and climbed out the car, heading towards the room, “What’s happening Sam?”

Straight to business, Sam was fine with that, “Dean won’t wake up... I think it’s something to do with the stuff on his arm.”

Within minutes, the pair were inside the room, door closed once again and Bobby kneeling down beside Dean inspecting his arm. “I need to know everything.” Bobby said simply as he wiped away the mess on Dean’s arm.

“I’m not sure I know it all.” Sam sighed, settling at the top of the bed to readjust the drying cloth.

“Then tell me what you do know.”

“It’s the demon. He trapped us; he was going to kill Dean… I don’t understand what happened but when the demon tried to burn him…” Sam paused, remembering the agony he’d seen Dean in, remembering the fury and hopelessness he’d felt, “Dean wouldn’t burn. It was like he was fireproof.”

666

“Your brother’s a freak, Winchester! Just like you.” The older kid called, pushing his way in front of the young floppy haired kid.

“Sam…” Dean breathed, watching the scene unfold.

“Get out of my way.” Young Sammy growled back at the older kid.

“Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it? You gonna whine for your big brother? Guess what brat, he’s got detention every night this week so he can’t help you.”

“I mean it.” Sammy warned, trying to sidestep the older boy.

But the boy just followed his step and blocked him once again, “I’ll ask again – whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?”

Dean span on his heel, determined to stroll out there and stop what was about to happen but found himself facing his father instead. He took a surprised step back as he stared up into his father’s darkened face. Dean was about to push past him when the older man grabbed his arm and forced him to turn back round to face the window and scene below.

“What are you doi-… I’ve gotta get down there.” Dean complained, trying to pull away from the vice like grip.

“You should watch...” John told him and Dean squirmed, his eyes being forced away from his father as the older boy pushed Sam hard.

“Let go of me… I have to get to Sam.”

“You can’t help him.” John said coldly, “This is what happens when you live your life as a freak, the ones you love get hurt.”

“This isn’t real.” Dean whispered.

“Doesn’t make it any less true.” John replied in such a harsh voice that it made Dean turn to look at him, meeting yellow eyes with his own hazel green.

666

“Fireproof?” Bobby questioned, raising his head to look at Sam, “Fireproof?”

Sam sighed and looked down at Dean, watching the rapid movement of his eyes and the way his face kept contorting, “He was on fire, Bobby. Everything around him was burning away but Dean… he wouldn’t burn. I know he could feel it… And since then, I dunno but it’s like the demon has his eye on him.”

Bobby nodded, listening carefully, thinking, “When you called before…”

“The demon had him.” Sam answered Bobby’s unfinished question and ran his hands through his hair, “He’s wearing down, it’s just constant, non-stop with him lately and now this? I don’t know how much more he can stand before he breaks.”

The elder hunter’s eyes returned to the veins of Dean’s arm, studying them carefully. He’d seen things like it before in curses and poisons but without knowing exactly what was happening it would be hard to come up with a solution. He looked up to the fluttering eyelashes and his heart ached as Dean groaned and twisted even more in his sleep.

“Without calling a wiccan or witchdoctor I can only think of one thing that might help, it’s not a permanent solution and it might not even work but I think it’ll calm him down at least.”

“Calm him down? We want him to wake up…”

“It’s like with any poison in the system, the faster your blood pumps then the quicker the poison works its way through.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing himself to consider what Bobby was saying, “What do we do?”

666

After attempting to kill Dean using the same method he’d used on Mary and Jess, the yellow eyed demon discovers something about the eldest Winchester… fire doesn’t burn him. But the Winchester brothers manage to escape from his clutches and whilst on the run from Yellow Eyes, they try to find out what all this means, all the while Dean is haunted by the occasional dream and yellow eyed visitor.

Tired of being cooped up, Dean leaves Sam to research and goes for drink where he meets the mysterious Becky, someone who knows more than she’s letting on about Dean and what’s going on with him. But Yellow Eyes isn’t far behind and after possessing Becky and ‘causing the young angel to fall unconscious, Dean takes her back to his and Sam’s room waiting for her to wake up and give him answers.

When Becky does wake, she is no longer in control and the yellow eyed demon attempts to manipulate Dean, stalking off so Dean would follow and they’d be left alone. But Sam receives a vision and learns of who is actually inside of Becky and rushes out to help his brother, unfortunately too late to stop the yellow eyed demon from injuring his brother and infecting him.

But after learning that is seems Dean can also manipulate fire, Yellow Eyes disappears, leaving the brothers to relax. But Dean’s sleep is full of weird distorted memories that don’t seem quite right and when he refuses to wake up, Sam calls the only other person he truly trusts for help. Bobby arrives, stating that they have to slow down Dean’s heart rate down or whatever poison is in his system will spread quicker…

Dean…

“You can’t help him.” John said coldly, “This is what happens when you live your life as a freak, the ones you love get hurt.”

“This isn’t real.” Dean whispered.

“Doesn’t make it any less true.” John replied in such a harsh voice that it made Dean turn to look at him, meeting yellow eyes with his own hazel green.

Sam & Bobby…

“Calm him down? We want him to wake up…”

“It’s like with any poison in the system, the faster your blood pumps then the quicker the poison works its way through.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing himself to consider what Bobby was saying, “What do we do?”

666

Fire of Unknown Origin

666

Dean kept staring at the cold murky yellow eyes, finding it hard to tear his gaze away. If he needed more proof that he was dreaming then this was it. The demon stood there, gripping Dean’s upper arm so tightly that Dean felt himself wincing slightly. As the demon looked away and out at the scene below, Dean found himself doing the same.

The bully pushed Sam again sending the young Winchester back a couple of steps. Sam had barely managed to steady himself when one of the goons grabbed him by the arms from the back. He struggled and was just about to slam the bottom of his foot into the goon’s knee when the bully threw a low punch that landed right into Sam’s gut. Winded, he hung there for a moment trying to regain some composure.

Dean felt his heart skip a beat. He felt powerless to stop what was happening but found himself pulling against the demon’s grip once more all the same.

“Sam!” He shouted, unable to contain the name any longer.

The bullies looked up into the window, the leader’s eyes locking with Dean’s, but Sam didn’t lift his head. Young Sam simply stared at the ground as if he hadn’t heard him. The leader smirked, a smarmy hideous smirk that Dean wanted to wipe off his face no matter how old the kid was.

Dean’s hands balled up into fists, tension boiling up inside of him. He wanted to be down there helping Sam not standing watching, helpless. The leader brought his arm back again ready to send another painful punch into Sam but instead of the cry of pain that Dean was sure Sam would have uttered, he heard the sound of a distant bell instead. One faint, single jingle that echoed through the dream and into his ears.

Everything paused, the impact never came and the fist just hung there barely an inch away. The grip on Dean’s arm softened a little, just enough for him to finally pull away. He glanced at the demon once; taking in the fiery anger in his eyes, and ran from the room to make his way towards Sam. He heard footsteps echoing behind him but he didn’t look back. He just focused on the hallway; nearly tripping down the stairs as he took several before jumping over the railing and taking the rest that would take him to the lowest floor.

“Sam!” He called out, the footsteps still crashing behind him.

Another bell jingled in reply and the footsteps paused. He pushed himself through the nearest exit and onto the grass outside, rounding the side of the building until he could see Sam once more.

666

Sam stared at Bobby, his mouth hanging open uselessly. Finally it snapped shut and he frowned, “Are you seriously telling me that those things work?”

“Not all the time...” Bobby answered, he held a hammer loosely in his hand and a nail in the other, “Worth a try though surely?”

“We’re talking about Dean’s life here Bobby! What if this turns out to just be a waste of time? We could be -” Sam paused, watching as his brothers fists tightened, unsure of what exactly they could be doing other than this “ - there’s gotta be something more… substantial.”

“You can feel it, you can see it… what could be more substantial than that? Trust me Sam; I wouldn’t try it if I thought it didn’t have a chance.” Bobby shrugged, dragging the closest chair even closer and up against the wall near the bed.

He carefully stepped up onto it and balanced himself as he leaned towards the wall until he could reach the part that was directly above Dean’s head. And then he positioned the nail and swung the hammer. He hammered until the nail hung there with only the support of the wall keeping it in place.

“Right, pass it up.” Bobby held the hammer out and Sam swapped the hammer for the item that he was so sceptical about.

Thick horse hair was wound together to make the string that now hung from the nail. The string continued down towards a round hoop made of strengthened willow, wrapping its way around the edges of the hoop creating an effect that very much resembled a spider web sitting in the centre of the hoop, intricate, detailed and beautiful. Three stronger pieces of string dangled from the base of the hoop, each varying in length with the centre being the longest. Each one held at least two feathers, several multicoloured beads and sitting right at the bottom of all three were small silver sleigh-bells that rang softly as Bobby placed the dreamcatcher on the wall.

Almost instantly Dean seemed to ease a little.

Bobby jumped down from the chair, the vibrations causing another bell to ring softly. He stood next to Sam and looked down at Dean. Dean’s fists loosened slightly and his breathing seemed to be returning to normal.

Sam dropped onto the bed and reached for Dean’s wrist. His brother’s pulse was still racing, the purpose of this little thing was to try and slow down the blood that was pumping through his system but if his heart didn’t slow down it’d be useless, “It’s not working…”

“Give it time Sam.” Bobby answered, barely stopping the worry that was eating him up from seeping out into his voice, “Just give it a little bit of time.”

666

Sam was on his knees, head still down and eyes staring at the ground. Dean felt himself slowing down the closer he got, fearing what he might see. An injured Sam, an angry Sam or even a yellow eyed Sam. He stopped a step behind Sam, wondering at what point in this crazy nightmare he’d become afraid of what he’d find. Though if he had to guess he supposed it was around about the same time he realised who was manipulating his dreams.

“Dean.” He heard Sam’s voice beside his ear, “Dean, please…”

Only it didn’t sound like it came from the Sam in front of him, the voice didn’t sound that young either.

“I’m sorry Sammy…” He whispered in reply, finishing the apology in his head, sorry I couldn’t save you from everything; sorry I couldn’t keep you from this life… “I’m sorry.”

“What difference does it make?” This time the voice came from the young Sam in front of him, even though the kid hadn’t moved, “Still freaks… whether you’re sorry or not…”

“Sam.” Dean muttered the name, let it draw out from his lips like a desperate plea that was willing to hold onto anything to stop him from sinking.

“Still freaks…” The young Sam repeated but anything else he said was drowned out by the other voice… the other Sam.

“Seriously Bro, you’ve got to wake up now. I need you to wake up.” Sam’s voice insisted, mingling with a faint jingle of bells.

Dean felt his face fall into a frown; he felt his heart thrumming deep in his chest at the thought of Sam being safe outside of the nightmare world he was stuck in and he knew he wanted to obey his brother’s commands to wake up but there was just one problem.

“How?” Dean asked, his voice broken and confused, “How do I wake up?”

666

Sam laid his head against the bed and closed his eyes, trying his best not to break down where he was. How do I reach you Dean? How do I help you? He thought to himself, feeling the sting of tears behind his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

“Talk to him.” Bobby said from the foot of the bed as he watched the two brothers. They looked worn and judging by the haunted look in Sam’s eyes, they had a good right to look that way.

“Dean…” Sam spoke softly, trying to keep his voice steady, “Dean, please.”

He thought he saw Dean tense as he lifted his head to observe his brother, watching carefully. He carried on, desperate for some reaction, some kind of hope that he could hold onto. “Seriously Bro, you’ve got to wake up now. I need you to wake up.”

As he spoke, the dreamcatcher seemed to catch a breeze and it jingled on the wall. Sam stared at it curiously then looked to Bobby, noting how the elder hunter was frozen in place.

“I guess it’s catching something…” He offered, still watching transfixed and the dreamcatcher continued to move gently in the non-existent breeze. He inched towards it and held a hand out, feeling for a wind that just wasn’t there. “Well it must be stopping something from trying to get to Dean...”

Sam looked down at Dean again and placed a hand on his arm gently, keeping his voice steady he spoke once again, calling to his brother, “Come on Dean. Just wake up, I know you can do it… you’re supposed to wake up when you realise you’re dreaming right? So realise it and wake the hell up!”

Dean grunted softly as if in reply and Sam felt his heart skip. He tightened his grip on Dean’s arm and he saw the flutter of eyelids, revealing a fever bright hazel green for just a moment. The encouraging words Sam had been about to say died violently as they morphed into a cry of pain.

His body reacted even quicker though and he pulled his hand away from Dean’s skin, feeling the severe heat spreading through him. He watched his brother’s arm in disbelief, the thing that had just burned him… he watched as a thin coat of flames spread up from Dean’s hand, spreading up his arm, growing and threatening to engulf all of Dean unless Sam did something.

666

666

Fall to Pieces

666

The flames seemed to grow as Sam grabbed for the nearest blanket, throwing it over them in hope of putting the newly formed fire out. He was thankful at the sound of Bobby shuffling and rattling behind him because he could already feels the flames burning through the cloth. He flinched and brought his hand away as the fire scorched his skin, cursing out loud.

“Bobby!” He called out in aggravation, the sound of running water echoing in his ears. Not quick enough… we need to be faster.

“Move it!” Bobby replied behind him and Sam spun on the spot to face him before taking a step out of the way and allowing the elder hunter to throw the water collected in the bin over onto Dean.

The whole scene would have been comical if not for the fact that Dean had seemingly created fire from nothing. With the water smothering the flames, they died in a violent hiss leaving only smoke and steam behind and even they quickly dissipated.

The eldest Winchester blinked his eyes open and drew in a deep breath as if it was the first one he’d been able to have in years. He looked around the room and pulled himself into a seated position, wincing only slightly. His eyes widened as they landed on Sam and Bobby and almost immediately closed again. Sam could hear him mumbling under him mumbling under his breath, “Wake up Winchester, wake up.”

“Dean?” He asked tentatively and saw Dean crack open his left eye, carefully studying Sam.

“I swear to God if I’m still dreaming I’m gonna kill someone.” Dean grumbled in reply, voicing his uncertainty. He opened his other eye and continued looking at Sam. It was his Sam… it was his brother… he had to be awake, right?

Sam smiled despite himself, his body relaxing a little, “Yeah, you jerk, you’re awake.”

“Sa-mmy?” Dean asked, his voice breaking a little as he questioned the reality he was in. A quick sweep of the room allowed him to take everything in, from the open bathroom door, the expressions of Sam and Bobby and the wet and scorched cloth on his bed. His eyes lingered there for the longest moment as his mind tried to catch up, “Why am I wet?”

Neither Bobby nor Sam answered at first, they both opened their mouths but nothing came out. When Dean looked up at them with panic written in his eyes they knew he had already figured it out and just needed it confirming. Sam looked down and shuffled from one foot to the other, as if hoping Bobby would take the responsibility from him.

But Bobby wasn’t going to. Instead he turned around and grabbed his coat from the table, “You boys need to talk, so I’m gonna go elsewhere and let you do that.”

Before either brother could object he was out the door leaving them in an uncomfortable and dreaded silence. Dean hated uncomfortable silences with his brother, it meant that they had something to discuss but neither was willing to own up to it. Finally looking up, Sam was sure Dean would be staring at him but his eyes were on the door instead.

“You brought Bobby in on this?” He asked slowly.

“You wouldn’t wake up… I didn’t know what to do.” Sam defended, unable to help the feeling that the question was worded like an accusation, “What’s wrong with that? We need the help.”

Dean didn’t answer; much like Sam still hadn’t answered his question about what had happened to the blanket. But Sam could see it in his eyes and he understood what Dean felt. He knew Dean didn’t want to be seen as anymore of a freak than he already felt and people finding out about his little fire problem was high up there on the list of yet another reason to be seen as a freak.

“What happened Sam?” Dean choked the question out, tearing his eyes away from his brother to stare at the wall opposite.

“I don’t know. You… it happened too fast.” Sam shrugged, moving towards his brother to sit on the edge of the bed. “Like Drew Barrymore in that movie…” He joked.

Dean blinked and looked at his brother, his features contorting into a grimace, “Out of all the characters… you compare me to a little girl?! What about Pyro? Or the Human Torch? Dude! Seriously?”

Sam smiled, thankful for the tiny bit of normality after everything… But he could see the look in Dean’s eyes, the distant look that told Sam it was just his brother’s game face, forcing the smile on his own face to falter.

Dean sighed and looked away again, moving to throw the covers off so he could pull himself out of the bed but immediately he froze, cringing as the pain spread through his entire body from his left arm. His arm felt like it had just been attacked my a thousand needles circling in his bloodstream, each one deadly and sharp. Hissing, he let the covers drop back down and using his other hand he reached for the lamp.

With the light on, he felt physically sick as he stared at the mess. The lower half of his arm was covered by a bandage but Dean guessed the thick darkened veins ran down their too. Without even thinking about it, he rolled up his sleeve to see just how far the poison had spread. Panic darted through his eyes as he looked to Sam, pleading for an answer… some sort of explanation.

“The demon…” Sam started, taking a deep breath, “He poisoned you somehow. I think it was one of the reasons you wouldn’t wake up.”

“We have an antidote now though, right? That’s why I’m awake?” Dean implored, eyes still wide as he tried to climb out of the bed despite the pain that the movement caused.

“Dean, calm down. Just relax. We’re working on it… but we’ll have less time to work on it if you don’t calm down.” Sam was begging now, his hands dragging Dean back down onto the bed and making him stay there, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Do you even know what it is?”

Sam looked away for a fraction of a second, “Not exactly but if you remember what he said, I think this is part of that only he didn’t get finished.”

“Amazingly Sam, that doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better.” Dean glanced down at his arm again, searching it up and down.

“We’ll fight this. You’ll fight this. He’s not gonna get you…”

“He doesn’t want me Sam, he wants you. He’s just using me to get to you, that’s all this is.”

Sam laughed a little at that, only Dean would be so blind as to say something like that. Only Dean would belittle himself so much that the sudden ability to produce fire would not be a good enough reason for a demon to be the slightest bit interested in him, “Dean, this has gone way beyond being fireproof… you created fire from nothing! You don’t think that’ll peek his interests even a little? You don’t think that maybe, just maybe he might try and use that for what it is and not just to get to me?”

“Sam…” Dean whined. He didn’t want to talk about it. The words from his dream haunted him, ‘freak’ running around his head along with images of Sam in pain… hurting… desperate. And Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all his fault even though he knew Sam would disagree.

Sam was about to continue, anger growing inside of him at Dean’s reluctance to talk, but the completely utterly dejected look on Dean’s face stopped him. He breathed deeply and looked down at the worn carpet instead, lost for words and needing everything to just be how it was before all the demon stuff… And not for the first time, he wished his Dad was there to take control, to boss them around and give them both orders so he didn’t have to think, just had to do… didn’t have to worry so much because if their Dad was here, he’d take care of things... in his own way.

He heard Dean grunt in pain, feeling the bed move as Dean did and turned his head a little, watching as his brother cursed at the pain in his arm. He hadn’t even thought about what it would feel like, if anything he thought it wouldn’t feel of anything… but Dean wasn’t so lucky. Whatever the toxin was, it was hurting him badly.

“There should be something in the first aid kit, maybe morphine or something…” Sam said quietly, hoping his brother would opt for some form of pain relief, just to make it easier.

“You’re just using that as an excuse to compare my ass to yours.” Dean mocked but nodding at the same time, appreciating the offer.

“No need, I already know mines better.” Sam replied playfully, walking over to the first aid kid, “I’ll even let you do it yourself; you’re a big boy now after all.”

666

Bobby just walked. Wandering nowhere in particular and only doing so to give the boys time. But he knew he couldn’t wait too long, something had been holding Dean in the dreamland and Bobby was willing to bet it would be the infamous yellow eyed demon. It would know that Dean was awake now and there was no telling how it would react to that.

He scoffed as he turned and looked back in the direction he’d come from, thinking about the first time he’d met the Winchesters. He should have severed ties there and then, saved all the work for someone else, all the trouble and the smart ass attitudes… but he knew he couldn’t do that. They were family.

He glanced at his watch, barely even taking in the time before continuing on his walk, knowing that he should be heading back soon.

666

Hunters and angels were severe pains in the ass. Sure they were fun to toy with, they were great entertainment but they were so far beyond annoying that it wasn’t even funny anymore.

He’d been getting through to Dean. He’s been driving fears and uncertainties into the eldest Winchester boy and that was the first step, along with the poison spreading quickly through his veins… But now he was awake, the poison would slow and the demon have to wait.

He hated waiting about as much as he hated hunters and angels. But he’d seen the hesitation in Dean as he approached the dream Sam… he’d felt the fear of being alone radiating from the young hunter.

He just had to wait…

666

666

Firefly

666

Inside the bathroom, Dean barely managed to pull his shirt up and over his head, every muscle in his body felt stiff and though the pain had lessened in his arm, it still ached. As soon as the shirt was off and discarded on the floor, his hand gripped the sink tightly, a wave of dizziness threatening to take him down with the shirt. In. Out. In. Out. He reminded himself to breathe, deep breaths summoning oxygen into his system.

Lifting his gaze to the mirror, that was slow steaming up from the warming water of the shower; he couldn’t help but notice that the poison had spread to his chest. He traced the lines on his skin, glad that they hadn’t reached his heart yet. But he was left wondering how long it would take and what would happen when they eventually worked their way there.

666

By the time Bobby had gotten back to the room, Sam had pulled his laptop out and judging by the sound of running water, Dean was in the shower. He pulled his coat off and laid it on the back of one the chairs at the table before sitting down opposite Sam.

“Well?” He asked, rubbing a hand across his face before resting his elbows on the table.

Sam sighed and looked up at Bobby, closing his laptop, “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Bobby shrugged, admitting defeat in the question and instead opting for another one, “How is he?”

“In pain. That poison is hurting him; he could barely move his arm before…” He glanced towards the bathroom door, taking another deep breath before continuing, “He’s scared. He won’t admit it but I can tell with him. Not just the poison but the fire as well… that was the first time he…”

Sam couldn’t find the words to finish, but he didn’t need to, Bobby had already guessed as much anyway. Judging by the surprise on Sam’s face when the fire had suddenly burst into life, he figured it hadn’t happened before.

“I’ve been thinking…” Bobby started, leaning back a little on his chair, “I know this person… she’s more of an acquaintance rather than a friend…”

“A hunter?” Sam questioned but Bobby shook his head.

“Nah, not a hunter and no witchdoctor either and believe me, if I knew of witchdoctor I’d be suggesting them a lot quicker than I’d suggest her. She’s a scientist, a doctor kinda. I got to thinking when I was out but… she’s been studying viruses for awhile now. Might be able to give us a hand with the poison.”

“Poison’s a little different from viruses Bobby… especially when it comes to demonic interference.”

Bobby shook his head, taking his cap off and laying it on the table to run a hand through his hair, “I’m talking about vampires and werewolves, them type of viruses. That’s what she calls them.”

“Never really thought of them as viruses before,” Dean’s voice caused them both to turn their heads towards the bathroom as the eldest Winchester emerged, “What with viruses having vaccines and all that.”

“Yeah well, she seems to think that given enough time and the right resources she’ll be able to find a cure.”

“Well if she can help…” Sam stood up, eager to get moving as soon as possible if it meant there was some glimmer of hope.

“Hold up. If we go to her, there’s no guarantee that she’ll help, she’s got a very high opinion of herself, thinks she’s quite important and above the law… even any unwritten ones.” Bobby countered, talking to Sam but watching as Dean leaned against the doorframe for support.

“What’s that supposed to mean Bobby?” Dean questioned.

“It means she ain’t especially ethical. She has a habit of keeping test subjects and it ain’t pretty. So you boys better be prepared.” He spoke the words with distaste, obviously not agreeing with her way of doing things, but she was the only person he could think of that could possibly help them.

666

Doctor Tanya Ridgeback was a twelve hour drive away. Although Sam had asked about calling her, making sure she was ‘home’, Bobby had insisted that it would be better to just surprise her. Dean had the distinct impression that Tanya would be the type of person who hated surprises but that if they did it any other way, she’d probably pack up and leave for a few days.

From the outside it looked like an abandoned warehouse, like many other abandoned warehouses they’d hunted in and seen in the past. But as Bobby led them to the door, pressing and holding the button on the intercom, Sam couldn’t help but feel it was not going to be the same inside as a security camera spun to focus on them. He already had a picture in his mind’s eye of a research lab with hi-tech gear and clean white surfaces.

When no one answered the intercom, even after Bobby tried again and again, Sam was beginning to wonder if it had just been a waste of time. But then locks began shifting out of place from beyond the door and then it clunked and was opened. A woman stood in the gap wearing a long white lab coat and an angry scowl.

She looked to be about the same age as Bobby, maybe younger. Raven black hair tied back tightly into a ponytail with a few stray strands framing her pale face. Her arms folded across her chest and she leant against the door frame looking the three up and down. “Well, well, well… what can I do for you Bobby Singer? Or is this another one of your attempts to stop my progress?”

“Was hoping you could help us Tanya.” He answered, careful not to rise to the bait.

She glanced at all three of them once more before sighing and opening the door further, allowing them all to pass, “Then you better come in, you don’t know what creeps are hanging about around here.”

When she had locked the door once again, she led them through a darkened passageway and through another sealed door into what appeared to be the first section of a very extensive lab. It was very similar to what Sam had imagined, a couple of computers doing separate things on either side of the room, microscopes, a large screen for close ups, bottles of unknown liquids strewn here and there, among many other things.

“What is it then?” She demanded, grabbing a stool and sitting on it whilst leaving the three men standing.

“What do you know of supernatural poisons?”

“Not much if I’m honest but you know me, I’m a quick learner.” She flashed a cocky smile, “If you’re looking for an antidote then you know I’m the person for the job though… been bitten by plenty of snakes.”

“Yeah well, this snake happens to be big, ugly and particularly demonic.” Dean spoke, his voice strong but his body feeling weak. He made to lean against the counter, quickly grabbing it with his hand before Sam could see him falter.

“Demonic?” She hesitated, a frown pulling at her features, “Never really dealt with demonic before.”

“Can you help us or not?” Bobby asked, chancing a quick glance at Dean.

“And you don’t mind someone like me helping someone like you?” She taunted, baiting him again, testing him to see how far he would be pushed.

“At this point I really don’t have a choice. Play with your pet vampires, I’m sure one day they’ll break free and play right back with you… but for now…”

She growled, standing up abruptly and moving over to a tray on the opposite counter, grabbing a syringe and piece of cotton wool. She hated the way Singer talked to her but she wanted to prove him wrong about her and what she was doing. Besides, if she did this it would mean he’d owe her, which could come in handy.

“Right.” She said flicking the end of the syringe for no other reason but to make her feel like she was the one in control. She pointed it at Dean and beckoned him forward, “Okay then, Mr Death Warmed Over. Let’s get started.”

Mr Death Warmed Over? Did he really look that bad? He could feel all their eyes on him but refused to acknowledge them, simply raising an eyebrow at her to try and mask how yucky he really felt. He shrugged out of his jacket as he moved towards her, laying it on the counter before pulling one arm out of his over shirt.

She indicated the stool, forcing him to sit as she made preparations to draw the blood out. He hoped his face didn’t betray him, but he was thankful, unsure that he would have been able to stand unaided whilst she did her job. But looking at her as she pushed the point into his skin above the bandage, trying her damndest not to react to the messy blackened veins, he could tell she had realised as much.

The blood came slowly, the sludge thick as it oozed out. But within half an hour, Dean was holding the cotton wool to the pinprick sized hole in his arm whilst Tanya was sorting out a slide with a sample on.

“Huh…” She noted as she looked through the microscope, adjusting the focus once more.

“What’s that mean?” Sam asked, shuffling away from his brother and towards her, waiting carefully for an answer.

“It’s littered with sulphur.” She explained.

“Sulphur?” Sam repeated, frowning in thought, “Makes sense.”

Dean cast him a look, his face mirroring Sam’s, “Like in Rivergrove?”

Tanya shifted, allowing Sam to look down the microscope. His frown deepened. “Yeah… but not the same, it’s different. I dunno…”

He pulled away and looked towards Dean; his brother’s skin looked even paler in the bright lights. He could tell that the pain was making itself known again as his brother concentrated on trying to push it back down.

“You want the truth?” Tanya asked, taking up her position again.

Bobby was watching her, waiting, “Of course.”

“If I had to guess… I’d say this stuff looks like concentrated demonic essence and given what you’ve already told me, it makes sense.”

“How do we get it out?” Dean asked, grimacing at a wave of nausea as he pushed himself off the stool to grab his jacket.

“If it hadn’t already spread this far I’d have been able to just draw it out… a transfusion could be tricky, might ‘cause it to spread quicker so as it is…”

Dean didn’t hear the rest of her words; he was fighting just to make it to the counter. He reminded himself to breathe once more, in, out, in, out. The others stood at the opposite end of the room, crowding around the microscope and talking amongst themselves. He just wanted a few moments to breathe and then he’d be fine.

“Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” He asked between breaths, grabbing the counter once more with one hand and putting the back of his free hand to his forehead in hope to cool himself down a little.

“Dean… you okay?” Sam asked, taking in the sheen of sweat. He took a few steps towards his brother, closing the gap a little.

Dean could feel it getting closer, could feel as the poison stabbed its way through his veins towards his heart, his arteries waiting patiently to start spreading it through the rest of his body. One particularly painful stab made his knees weaken but his quick reactions made his free hand join the other on the counter. Leaning forward, he was so focused on trying to control whatever was happening to him and failing miserably, he hadn’t even noticed the talking had stopped and Sam was nearly right behind him.

He closed his eyes tight, trying to fight the pain away from his heart, begging it to stop before it got too far. But as a second pain seared through his hands, his eyes snapped open and he gaped as flames spread from his hands across the surface of the counter.

“Sam…” He choked out, fear and panic echoing in his voice.

“Dean… what’s… Oh God..” As Sam neared, he noticed the flames, his brothers broken voice sending spikes of dread through him.

“I can’t stop it.”

“You better try!” Tanya cried out, her eyes widening at the scene, “This place is filled with flammable substances… if you don’t stop, all this’ll go up in flames… and probably us with it.”

666

666

Folding Stars

666

“Yeah well… any suggestions would be great right about now…” Dean snarked back. His palms were pressed flat against the table, he could feel the fire burning at his skin, desperately wanting to torch him but failing badly. He watched helplessly as the flames danced and flickered, snaking over the counter, threatening and teasing, slowly making their way towards several bottles marked flammable.

“Dean…” Sam said softly, and Dean could see his brother reaching for him in his mind’s eye.

“Don’t Sam!” Dean snapped, refusing to turn away from the counter, “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Oh how sweet… but you don’t mind blowing us all up? That it?” Tanya scoffed. She was terrified, unable to stop the shake in her voice and her hands.

“Not helping lady!” The spark of anger caused the flames to rise high for a moment before falling back a little as Dean closed his eyes and focused on breathing.

“What about a sprinkler system?” Sam asked, turning to face the doc and glancing at Bobby for confirmation of his next statement, “Water stopped the fire last time, right?”

“Sprinkler system? In a room full of electronics and electricity… yeah, of course… why wouldn’t I?”

“Damn it Tanya…” Bobby growled, “Unless you want your little experiments to burn to the ground, you better help us think of a plan.”

Tanya nodded, bringing her hands up to her head as she thought. Somewhere she knew there was something that could help but every time her mind came close to thinking of it, the flicker of the flames distracted her and she panicked again. Everything… she was gonna lose everything, every single scrap of information and data she had collected, all the failed and all the nearly successful experiments. She couldn’t… “Err… there’s a fire extinguisher, couple of rooms down… It’s where I do most my work.”

“Good, good…” Bobby nodded to Sam to go look for the extinguisher whilst he had something else in mind.

“Bobby!” Dean called, before Bobby got a chance to ask his next question, “Get Sam and get out of here.”

“Don’t be stupid! If we’re gonna find some sort of antidote we need this place. Just try and keep calm…” Bobby replied, glancing towards the door Sam had made his way through before looking back to Tanya, “Sedatives. You gotta have some for all your little pets. Where do you keep them?”

Tanya turned on the spot, moving towards a small cupboard and opened it to reveal a tray of small bottles, “I got a stock of ‘em here… but you either need to get up close or use a tranq gun and unless you got one on you, we don’t have time to go looking for mine.”

“What?!” Dean couldn’t help himself from overhearing, finally turning away from the counter to stare hard at Bobby. But he couldn’t control his body, couldn’t stop himself from crashing down onto one knee. He grimaced at the impact, forcing back the pain. “You finally wake me up and now you wanna put me back to sleep? Just put a bullet in my head while you’re at it!”

“I know!” Bobby growled, his heart aching as he saw the state Dean was in, “I don’t want to knock you out… just get you kinda sleepy… slow that stupid heart rate of yours down to buy us some time and hopefully it’ll put the flames out too.”

“You won’t let me fall asleep?” Dean asked, panting a little.

Bobby couldn’t help by question Dean’s plea, wondering if he’d been hiding something about the dreams. But he didn’t have time to grill him, marking it on the ‘talk about later’ list.

666

The next section of the lab was very much the same as the first, and the next. Just like any other lab, white surfaces, equipment laid about the place, rats with sharp vampire teeth snarling from plastic cages as you walked passed. Sam shivered as they caught his eye and displayed their fangs hungrily watching him.

“Congratulations Doctor Ridgeback, you’ve succeeded in breaking the species barrier.” He cringed, carrying on past a dissected rat because every lab needs one of those, right? He raised his hand to his mouth, trying to stop himself from gagging at the sight and smell of it.

But he was saved the trouble of going any deeper into the lab when he spotted a fire extinguisher and ran back towards the front carrying it. He wanted get out of this place sooner rather than later, but hopefully with some form of cure for Dean.

Tanya was loading up a needle when he got back and handing it to Bobby. He didn’t have time to question them as the flames spread, consuming several small glass bottles. Within seconds one of them exploded, the liquid inside overheating and sending glass outward in a shower of flames.

Knowing that they only had moments before similar occurrences happened and maybe on a much large scale, Bobby indicated to Sam that the needle was for Dean and the youngest Winchester surged forwards. Foam quickly coated the flames covering Dean, extinguishing them. And Bobby pushed himself towards the eldest, allowing the needle to sink into Dean’s flesh and send him into a state of semi-consciousness.

From there, it took barely any time for the rest of the fire to die with a little help from Sam. As the last flicker of a flame disappeared, Sam dropped the can and immediately fell to his brother’s side, helping Bobby move him into a more comfortable position of leaning against the cabinets untouched by the fire.

“Sam?” The semi-lucid Dean muttered, drugs working fast on his system. He looked around, focus locking on the figure of his brother. But the eyes staring back at him weren’t the colour he expected; instead they were a murky yellow.

Immediately, he tried to push away but his body failed him. The actions caused Sam to hold on even tighter, “Le’ me go!”

“Dean, settle down.” It was Sam’s voice but not his eyes and Dean forced himself to look at Bobby instead, begging the elder hunter to see that the demon was there possessing Sam.

But the damn thing switched; Bobby’s eyes now the same yellow as the hunter grabbed him and tried to stop Dean from hurting himself. “Stop it Dean. Just stay still.”

“I sai’ le’ me go…” Dean slurred, closing his eyes tight and shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the yucky feeling that spread through his system. He couldn’t decide whether it was the drugs, the poison or fear.

“What’s wrong with him?” He heard Sam ask but he refused to open his eyes to look at him.

“I’m not sure…” Bobby answered, ripping Dean’s shirt down the front in hope that maybe he was wrong. But the thick black lines were there, trailing towards Dean’s heart, probably already pumping the demon puss into it. He looked to Tanya, “You got any beds?”

“Trust me, none you’d want him to use.” She answered, hanging back whilst watching the trio.

“Then where do you sleep?”

“Sofa… it’s through that door.” She indicated the closed door behind her, gripping and turning the handle to open it.

With only a quick glance at each other, Bobby and Sam lifted Dean up, sharing his struggling weight, “It’ll have to do.”

As they laid Dean on the small sofa, legs dangling over the edge, they noticed how the room was more office like than the rest of the place. It held a desk, a bookcase filled with a mixture of new and old texts, several ornaments and what looked like a wardrobe.

“Kinda get used to living like this after awhile…” She mumbled, answering Sam’s unasked question.

“We’ll talk décor later.” Bobby growled, standing up to face Tanya, “How quickly can you come up with some sort of cure?”

“I’ve been trying to find a cure for vampirism for twenty-five years and it’ll probably take me another twenty-five before I’m even close… and you want me what? To come up with a cure to whatever the hell this is in twenty-five minutes?”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

“I might be able to make something to weaken it in that time but anything more than that and you’re really pushing it.”

“Just do what you can.”

Throwing her arms up dramatically, she left the three of them alone in the room. Bobby watched her go before joining Sam once again beside Dean.

“How you feeling?” He asked, concerned when Dean refused to open his eyes.

“Not real.” Was all Dean said, still shifting his body in an attempt to move away.

Whilst the words could have been an answer, both hunters knew they sounded more like a denial. Sam put his hand on his brother’s face, trying to get Dean to look at him. His skin was warm, traces of sweat dampening it. “Come on Dean, open yours eyes.”

“Not Sam…” Dean said, pulling his head away.

But Sam stopped him, his voice pleading, laced with concern as he begged his brother, “Look at me damn it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Fever bright eyes slowly and reluctantly opened to stare at Sam’s and Dean prepared himself for the murky yellow he knew he would see. Part of him knew it was his mind playing tricks, or maybe something sinister but it looked so real. It looked as real as the night in the cabin when the bastard had possessed his father. So fear rose in him even though he was certain it wasn’t real… almost certain… maybe.

666

666

Falling

666

He stood outside the broken down warehouse waiting and watching, leaning against the sleek Impala that was parked up just outside. He yawned and glanced down towards the door window, his reflection growled back at him as the angel he still inhabited sulked, her features hard and angry.

“Cheer up. At least I’m not killing him.”

“Oh, and just what are you doing to him? His is a gift from God, you can’t use it. You can’t use him.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I can and I will. He’s not gonna be able to control this by himself… he’ll get so confused and desperate that he’ll agree to anything.”

“If you can get close enough to him.” Becky scoffed, hoping for this tiny glimmer of hope that Dean would be safe, “And I don’t see Sam letting him fall asleep anytime soon for you to pop up in his nightmares.”

“I’m patient. I can wait. I mean, he can create fire! And if he managed to survive the inferno I put him in… well, who wouldn’t want to use that?” The yellow eyed demon’s eyes widened at the thoughts running through his head. If Dean could survive the intensity of the flames that the demon had used on him, then maybe he could create the same intensity… control it and command it.

The angel’s reflection looked away, her face twisting up and the demon knew why.

“You didn’t expect his ‘gift’ to evolve like this, did you?”

The angel didn’t answer and that was enough for him to know he was right.

666

“Dean.” Sam called, grabbing hold of his brother’s wrist to try and make him focus, “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

Dean didn’t answer at first, just continued staring at Sam with wide eyes that held a hint of something Sam hated seeing there - fear. But he slowly managed to gain control of himself, taking deep steadying breaths. “I think it’s too late.”

The words were so faint that Sam barely caught them. His brow creased in puzzlement but he had a good idea of what Dean was talking about, “We’re going to fix this. Do you hear me? We are going to fix this… it’s not too late, not yet.”

But another stab of pain in the area of his heart caused Dean to call out, scrunching his face up and he tried to will it away. When he opened his eyes again, the world was darker, more warped bur he tried to blink it all away and focus on Sam’s voice.

“Dean! Listen to me… come on. You can do this… you’re strong enough to fight against this. Please…” He heard Sam beg as his eyes darted in every which direction, trying to shake the darkness before finally settling on the wall behind Sam and Bobby.

Dean panicked. It was on fire. The wall was on fire. The fire was slowly creeping up it as the wallpaper peeled and burned away. But he hadn’t done anything… He tried to speak, tried to warn Sam and Bobby, knowing they hadn’t noticed it yet. But couldn’t they smell it? Couldn’t they smell the smoke? Why couldn’t he smell the smoke?

“What do you see?” Sam asked and Dean tried to pry his eyes aware from the fire to find his brother, but it entranced him.

“Fire…”

“He’s hallucinating.” He heard Bobby say and he frowned.

Hallucinating? He hung onto the word, desperate for it to be the truth, knowing that it explained the lack of smell. Was that all it was? The yellow eyes, the fire, the black spots dancing in his vision… they were just hallucinations? They were just some trick that his mind was playing on him… the result of the black poison spreading through him.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, deafening him, causing a dull-aching headache to form. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe, tried to fight against the pain as it threatened to devour him. Next time he opened them Sam was directly in front of him, talking to him, worry etched deeper into this features.

“No, no… stay awake… come on bro.”

He’d only closed his eyes for moment, not long enough to fall asleep and yet he couldn’t help but feel that it must have been longer. He was barely lucid, unable to get his thoughts straight let alone voice any of them. Next thing he knew Sam was tapping his face gently, forcing him away from the darkness,

“How much longer Bobby?” He heard Sam ask.

“She’s working on it.”

His vision swam as his gaze floated back to the wall that was no longer on fire, it didn’t even look like it ever had been. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, he wasn’t sure whether Sam had even noticed him try. His eyes landed on the shelves of books and ornaments and he watched as they moved, watched as one of the mini statues appeared to be turning, breaking free.

And then he was looking into a bright light as someone shined a pen flashlight in his eyes. The light disappeared and he could just make out the face of Tanya as she tilted his head gently to the side, studying him.

“If I don’t do it now then there’s no chance…”

“Will it work?”

“I’ve got no idea.” She sighed and Dean saw her hand something to Sam, a flash of silver making his brow crease, “I’m gonna have to inject it as close to his heart as I dare… but if that stuff has already worked it’s way into his heart, well, I can’t say for sure this will work…”

Inject? She was going to inject something into him? His eyes followed her, trying to focus on her, even though her movements seemed to blur together. But his attention was brought back to himself as he heard a familiar noise, one he always associated with ripping fabric. Someone was cutting through his shirt.

“Is he ready?”

“Yeah…”

He felt a cold hand against his now bare chest and grimaced against the sting of a needle, ice cold liquid oozing out and into him. He frowned and went to touch the icy patch that was slowly spreading, but his arms were too heavy, refusing to move.

“All we can do is wait.”

Another hand was placed on his forehead and he blinked, looking for the person it belonged to. Sam’s voice came from just beside his ear, his words directed at Dean, “Stay with us Dean… you’re my brother, I need you… just keep fighting, please.”

666

666

Freak Out

666

Ice, freezing cold ice, the kind that made you feel like you’d been burned if you touched it - the feeling spread through him, engulfing him and the lava that gorged itself on his blood. He could feel his body shivering and his teeth chattering as the cold continued to spread the longer that he lay there. And yet the one point he wanted it to penetrate was the one place than continued to burn, scorching away at his flesh from the inside.

“Can’t Sammy…” He managed to mumble, blinking his eyes open and trying to focus them as he searched for his brother, “…hurts…”

A hand cupped his chin and tilted his head back, guiding him so he could meet Sam’s eyes, “You don’t have a choice Dean. I need you.”

It sounded selfish but he didn’t care, he didn’t care what card he had to play just so long as it brought out a little bit of fight in Dean, just enough to push away the poison and bring him back. Dean nodded slightly and Sam relaxed a little, allowing himself to breathe once again. His brothers face was pale, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. He was hot to touch but as the minutes slowly passed, it seemed he was cooling, or at least Sam hoped he was.

Dean’s eyes had fallen closed and his breathing eased, no longer hitching in places. Sam bit his lip tentatively, chewing on it as he debated whether or not to let Dean fall asleep, could he really risk the eldest falling back into those nightmares? Bobby laid a hand on his shoulder, a small comfort but a comfort none the less and his eyes drifted up to Bobby’s.

“Let him rest, just for a while.” Bobby answered his unvoiced question, but Sam could see the hesitation lingering on his features, “Couldn’t hurt… just for an hour.”

Sam swallowed the hard lump forming in his throat but nodded all the same. No matter how reluctant he was he doubted he could keep Dean awake even if he wanted to. The eldest was already falling into a hopefully dreamless sleep. But things just never worked out for the Winchesters the way that they should.

666

“Don’t let me sleep.” He mumbled, but by then he knew it was too late, he knew that the darkness had closed in around him and taken him in its grasp.

“Why not?” A voice asked from somewhere beyond the darkness, igniting dancing flames with its words.

Dean grumbled but didn’t reply. There was no jingle of bells this time to make the presence disappear, no whispers from his brother to give him silent strength. Instead he was blocked off from the outside world, locked inside his own mind with the thing that murdered his mother and ruined his whole life.

“You know it’s too late, don’t you?” The demon asked, flames spiralling and bouncing upwards and downwards in time with each syllable, matching his pitch and volume perfectly.

“What’s with the light show?” Dean asked, avoiding the question in hope that the demon was wrong but feeling highly doubtful.

“You just don’t appreciate fine workmanship Dean.” The demon stepped forward, passing through the flames as they danced, before he stopped, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Dean.

Dean scoffed, turning his head away from the form that the demon chose to take and trying to pretend it didn’t bother him, “Strangely enough I’m just not that into the dramatics.”

“You see, I just don’t believe that.” The demon continued mocking him; watching as he cringed at the sound of its voice… at the sound of it using his own voice, his own face and body, “But let’s not get off topic here.”

As if in response, Dean felt his chest aching, feeling as if someone was trying to drill a hole inside of him. His hands formed fists at his side and he closed his eyes, trying to breathe past the pain but finding it increasingly hard, “And just what is the topic of choice?”

“You can feel it can’t you? Even if that antidote has worked it’s way through most of your body, you can still feel it inside your heart, can’t you? Feel the way it’s eating away at you, sharp little nibbles… You really think you can fight against that?”

Dean couldn’t help but raise his eyes to the demon as its voice changed, morphing into the angel Becky’s instead as she now stood there, eyes glowing yellow and staring deep inside of him. “Say whatever the hell you want… I’m not letting you get your hands on Sam and if that means fighting whatever hold you’re trying to have on me then I’ll figure it out somehow.”

“I’m sure your Daddy would be proud.”

“You know what… you can just go screw yourself. I don’t give a damn about what you think.”

“What about what Sam thinks? Or Bobby? Me thinks they think you’re dangerous… they think that you’re a time bomb, tick tick ticking… unpredictable… ready to go off without a moment’s notice… ready to blow up and take them out. I mean, you can’t really control it can you Deano? You couldn’t control it in the lab and if it hadn’t been for their quick thinking that place would have burned to the ground… them with it. But not you… no, you’re fireproof remember. No matter how bad it gets… you’re safe at least.”

“And let me guess… out the goodness of your very own sick and twisted demonic heart… you want to help me control it? You want to… what? Mentor me? I kill things like you… I don’t take evening classes from them.”

“Wait until Sam gets hurt… then you’ll be singing a different tune.” The demon smiled before fading back into the darkness and taking the fire with it.

666

He woke so suddenly that it felt like he’d been slapped hard across the face. His eyes sprung open and he lay there silent and still for moment, drinking in the feeling that came with being in the land of the awake. Blinking, he pulled himself up into a seated position and looked at the office around him. It looked a lot less threatening then when he’d been half out of it, also extremely empty.

If he was honest with himself, he didn’t expect to wake up alone. He felt his throat tighten as he tried not to think about how he’d hoped to see Sam there, waiting for him to wake, if not encouraging him to wake. The emptiness made him wonder for a moment if he truly was awake, but voices from just beyond the closed door told him that he was.

“Maybe I should…” He heard Sam start and he dragged his legs off the sofa, pushing himself up as he readied to walk towards the door.

The room spun slightly and his hand shot out, grabbing at the sofa as he lowered himself back onto it to get his bearings.

“Sam,” Bobby groaned in warning, his voice gruff and tired as it broke through the silence ringing in Dean’s ears, “This is Dean we’re talking about. If anyone can get through this it’s him.”

“I can’t do this without him Bobby.” Sam mumbled in reply, sounding so lost that it made it hard for Dean to breathe for a moment. He forced himself up once more, ignoring any lingering dizziness as he moved toward the door.

Pulling it open, he leaned as casually as he could against the doorframe, staring out at the three, an eyebrow raised as he plastered his best game face on, “Dude, you’re acting like I’m already dead. Quit planning my funeral already and do something more productive… like I dunno, getting takeout?”

“Jesus Dean.” Sam swore, spinning around to face his brother before immediately moving to his side, “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“With all this moping around going on? You don’t really expect me to skip out on the fun do you?” He jibed, nudging the youngest as he tried to take a hold of Dean and guide him back into the room.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Bobby couldn’t help but smile, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, you know that right?”

The question received a cocky smile as Dean tried his best to behave like everything was normal even though inside he couldn’t help but feel far from lucky. He could still feel the dull ache in his chest, like a permanent heart burn but worse.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Tanya staring at him, expression glazed. Bringing himself back to the now, he frowned in puzzlement before looking down at himself and noticing the absence of his shirt. A blush rose to his cheeks and he turned quickly looking back into the room and spotting his overshirt lying over the back of sofa, “I… err… I’ll be right back.”

“Dean,” Sam spoke as he followed his brother into the room, “How you feeling?”

“Better…” He answered honestly; the dark veins were gone, no longer stinging and his mind felt clearer, “… And worse.”

“Worse?” Sam questioned, dropping into worried younger brother mode far too easily for Dean’s liking.

“I dunno… I just… what if it didn’t really work? I don’t think it’s fixed Sam.”

Sam paused, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a response to Dean’s startling sincerity, “It’s got to be. Trust me… we’ll get Tanya to check out your vitals and she’ll agree with me. The worst is over.”

“Sam please…” He sighed, fastening the buttons of his overshirt as he tried to reason with Sam, tried to get him to understand that this whole thing was far from over.

“What do you want me to say Dean? I gotta have some hope here… You look better; you even said you feel better… I just wish…” Sam paused, dropping onto the arm of the sofa as he looked down at his hands, “It just feels like we’re fighting a losing battle sometimes and I really wanted to call this one a win.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t Sam… Just said it wasn’t over. I just don’t want you getting too comfortable when something could still happen…”

“Never let your guard down, right? Winchester rule number nine thousand six hundred and seventy two…” Sam scoffed, glancing towards his brother.

“Nah, you’re thinking of never get caught with your trousers down. Never let your guard down is number nine thousand six hundred and seventy one.” Dean smiled brightly back, dropping onto the sofa next to Sam and leaning back, stretching himself out, before adding a little more seriously, “I won’t give up if you don’t… we’ve survived this long.”

“You swear?”

“Beh, not like I got anything better to do.”

666

666

Fallen Angel

666

“You finished daydreaming there Tanya?” Bobby growled; turning away and watching the boys disappear into the office. The improvement in Dean was blazingly obvious and for all intents and purposes the antidote seemed to have worked, yet that didn’t stop the niggling feeling gnawing at him saying there was still room for error.

“Well ‘xcuse me for admiring that little piece of angelic muscle.” Tanya retorted, brushing at a stray strand of hair in front of her face. She turned with a sigh away from the door to look at Bobby instead, leaning more on her right leg as she raised an eyebrow at him, “So what you gonna do now Singer? You planning on leaving and letting me get on with my work or you gonna screw me over and put a dampener on my experiments?”

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet.” He admitted, “Way I see it… I’m guessing I owe you one.”

She scoffed, muttering under her breath, “Bet your bleeding ass you do.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and went on as if he hadn’t heard her, “Might stick around for a day or two though, keep an eye on Dean…”

“I’ll keep both my eyes on him for you.” She smiled, gaze wandering back to the doorway, waiting for the boys to emerge, “Besides… someone has to clean up this mess you created by coming here in the first place.”

“Well you can tell that to the piece of angelic muscle because I’m not much of a cleaner.”

666

Sam sighed, sliding off the arm and onto the actual cushion as Dean scooted over to make room for him. Leaning forwards, the youngest rested his elbows on his knees and brushed his hands through his hair. “What we gonna do Dean?”

“Saving Becky would be a start.” Dean answered, mimicking Sam’s position and rubbing at his temple with his hand.

Sam stilled, recognising the guilt behind Dean’s words, the tone so familiar to Sam. “It’s not your fault, you know that right? Whatever happens to her, it’s that bastard’s doing… not yours.”

“’S’all my fault Sam. If it weren’t for me she wouldn’t be involved in the first place. Well… she might… but not like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam queried, brow furrowing as he looked at his brother.

Dean stood up and began pacing just in front of the sofa, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not sure I understand myself.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Sam’s tone fell serious and he found it impossible to keep the suspicion out of his voice. When Dean didn’t reply, he grabbed his brother’s wrist to stop him pacing and pulled himself up to stand in front of him without letting go, “Dean, tell me.”

Dean cursed under his breath, eyes falling anywhere but on Sam as he thought about what the demon had said back in the motel car park, as he thought about a distant memory so broken in places it was hard to truly piece together. Finally he locked eyes with Sam and sighed, “She’s an angel Sam. Was a guardian angel…” He laughed dryly at what he was about to say next, “Was my guardian angel once…”

Sam’s grip loosened and confusion swept over his features, a broad disbelieving smile forming on his face, “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that? That the yellow eyed demon is out there somewhere possessing an angel? Your what… ex-guardian angel?”

Dean shrugged, “It’s the truth. The demon… he said something and I dunno, I guess it made me remember a bit.”

“Oh, well if the demon told you it, then it must be true.” Sam mocked, trying to gage how serious his brother was.

“Sa-am.” Dean moaned, turning away and breaking free of Sam’s hold. The words still lingered, burning him as they made a permanent mark on his soul. I’d trade every one of those angels if I could keep Sammy safe from the fire. They circled his mind and Dean knew for certain he’d said them, knew for certain that was the reason behind him being fireproof. The demon was the fire he wanted to keep Sam safe from, he smirked sardonically at the irony as it seemed it was his own fire Sam may need to be kept safe from now.

“No, no, by all means, carry on Dean. Just what exactly has she got to do with all this… ex-guardian angel or not? You saying you traded her so you could walk through fire unharmed? You wanted to try being the next infamous daredevil or something? Jumping through rings of fire? I just don’t get it.”

“I wanted to keep you safe Sam.” Dean snapped, regretting it immediately, “I… I was just a kid and I wanted to keep the fire away from my little brother.”

Sam felt like the breath had been stolen from his lungs as he stood there speechless. The truth finally revealed. His heart tightened painfully in his chest as he thought about a young Dean giving up something so special as a guardian angel so that he could protect his brother. Hadn’t he had to give up enough already? Hadn’t he already lost too much through protecting Sam? Sam swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, “You shouldn’t have…”

“It was a stupid little thing said by a naïve little kid… but I wouldn’t take it back. If there’s a God… man he has this twisted sense of humour. But hey, if angels exist then I guess that means there must be someone up there.”

“So Becky is really…” Sam began, trying to get his head around the idea that angels were real and that Dean had one as a child. He was the believer, he always had been but over the past year when he desperately needed something to be there it seemed he was always disappointed but now, here it was… And if he was honest, it made him angry that they had been fighting these demons and monsters nearly all their lives whilst somewhere there were angels dancing about all over the place leaving them to get hurt, broken… killed.

“Yeah…”

“You think everyone has one?” Sam asked; voice strained as he thought out loud.

“I don’t know… I mean, where was Mom’s? Where was Dad’s?”

“Where’s mine?” Sam smiled, laughing a little.

“Dude, have you not been listening to this conversation? I’m practically your guardian angel.” Dean joked, though he had to admit, he had been wondering the same thing.

“So what do we do? How do we find Becky and the demon?”

Dean shook his head, “My guess is we don’t, we let him find us. It’s his move now Sammy and we’ve only just got out of ‘check’.”

666

Azazel paced back and forth in front of the lab, mind working overtime as he tried to piece things together. His mind rarely straying from the Winchester brothers until another Winchester name cropped up, snaking its way into his thoughts. “Mary.” The demon whispered, stilling his movements as he gazed at his reflection triumphantly, “Beautiful, beautiful Mary. She’s the key… it explains so much.”

“Blah blah blah. You must love the sound of my voice because you just never stop talking. It gets boring real quick.” The angel complained.

“Mary was one of mine, just like Sammy boy… and just like him, she had so much potential.” He explained, ignoring the angel’s jibe, “Oh this is just priceless…. Why didn’t I see it earlier?”

“You’re just goading me into asking what the hell you’re on about.” Becky replied, knowing how hard her heart was thrumming. He had her attention peaked and she was worried.

Stalking backwards and forwards once more, the puzzle in front of him became a little clearer with this newest revelation… an epiphany really. “It would explain why Sammy is so powerful… why Dean’s ‘gift’ is evolving… Damn, all this time and I only now just realise? I should have sensed it…”

“Fine, tell me… what are you getting at? What are you talking about?”

The demon didn’t seem to hear her, not needing her approval to carry on, but her surged forward all the same, “I gave every single one of them a taste of my blood… every special child that I chose… I let it find its way into them, let it spread, tainting them as it mixed with their own blood.”

Becky shook her head in denial; understand what track the demon was taking, “Don’t you ever dare suggest it.”

“She passed my blood onto the pair of them… damn if that ain’t just that just poetic.”

666

666

Fox on the run

666

“Don’t get too close.” Tanya warned as the eldest Winchester neared the plastic cages of vampire rats.

Half a day had passed since the little fire incident and things were once again seemingly on track as Bobby and Sam rested up and Dean wandered around the lab, watching Tanya as she worked on her experiments.

He stared in morbid fascination at the vampire critters as they stared just as intently back. Reaching out a hand, he tapped at the plastic sheet, jumping backwards in surprise as one of the rats launched itself towards him in reply, baring its vampire teeth and snarling.

“Told you not to get too close.” Tanya chided, arms crossed as she waited for him to back away from her little ‘pets’. As soon as he did, she swung back round on her seat, going back to work.

“Nice little creation you’ve got there… I mean, vampire rats… woo! Definitely one step closer to a cure now.” Dean mocked, rolling his eyes as he continued his mini tour of the lab.

“Retrieving actual vampires to experiment on takes time and money that I’m not prepared to waste when I’ve got perfectly good rats to use.” She defended without looking at him.

“So you don’t use actual vampires?”

“I never said that. I just use the rats first and if things look good, then I’ll try an ‘actual’ vampire.” She sighed, closing her eyes and begging for patience. For as good looking as he was, he sure asked a lot of unnecessary and annoying questions. Weren’t people who looked like him meant to be for decoration only? One syllable words and all that jazz?

“So you keep vampires here?”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out again, hesitating as she thought about how to answer his question, “Sometimes… I might have two or three at a time but never any more. Now if you excuse me…”

“Yeah, yeah… trying to work. I get you.” Dean waved a hand of dismissal in her direction and moved further down the room. He barely made it several feet before he found a fridge full of blood samples and another question was already spilling from his lips, “What about food?”

Tanya growled under her breath, pushing herself away from what she was doing and turning to face Dean. Her arms were crossed once again and she raised an eyebrow at him, “What about it?”

“You’ve got to feed them… so how’d you do it?”

“Fresh animal blood, simple as.”

“And what about you?” Dean continued, spinning on his heel so he was once again looking at the doctor. His stomach groaned in response to what he was about to ask, “What do you eat?”

“Food.”

“Ahh, food… of course. What was I thinking?” He let himself fall back so he was leaning against the counter in a silent huff and Tanya couldn’t help but soften a little. He did look a little pale, like he wouldn’t last much longer unless he got something reasonable into his system.

“I was supposed to stock up at the beginning of the week.” She explained, “Got a little caught up in research so I never got the chance… the life of a scientist.”

Dean pushed himself away from the counter and dusted himself off. Grabbing his jacket, he reached inside for his wallet and checked his cash. There’d be enough for supplies and maybe some gas but he’d probably have to do a little hustling soon before they ran out. “Well it’s your lucky day Doc. Guess I’m taking a trip to town… soon as you tell me how I’m supposed to get out of this place.”

“I’ll let you out.” She smiled, shaking her head slightly as she began to lead the way.

“Any requests?”

“As long as you bring back caffeine and sugar I’m happy.”

“It’s at the top of the list.”

Swiping her card through the alarm system, she entered the code and began unlocking the door for the eldest Winchester. Her eyes glanced to the security monitor as it fizzled for moment before returning to normal and showing no imminent danger. She opened the door and Dean stepped out, breathing in deeply as he took a lungful of fresh air.

“Singer’ll kill me for letting you go without telling him.”

“Nah… Sam’ll probably do the job first before starting on me.” Dean retorted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the keys to the Impala, heading towards it without another word.

As soon as he had pulled away, Tanya closed the door and locked up, glancing once more to the security monitor as static played across the screen and she thought she caught the glimpse of a shadow but it settled once more leaving her with the feeling of unease.

666

The sky was overcast, clouds thick and grey, threatening to shower the earth below in rain. Dean couldn’t help but think how the weather mirrored his mood, a little gloomy but at the same time, brighter than it had been earlier. He rolled his shoulders as he adjusted himself, moving into a more comfortable position. Yet no matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of the dull ache inside his chest.

One hand on the wheel, he moved his other up to rub the area just above his heart barely quelling the queasiness that came over him. His grip on the wheel tightened and he breathed deeply, but a flash of pain seared through his body, causing him to swerve on the road.

It was only through quick reflexes that he managed to miss the SUV coming from the opposite direction, the sound of horns following him as he straightened the car and moved back to his own side of the road. Any lingering pain was quickly forgotten as adrenaline pumped through his system, heat rising up his neck and back, flushing his cheeks as he thought about the near accident. Sam would kill him if he found out.

“Damn it Winchester, get a grip.” He chided himself, trying to focus instead on the task of retrieving food, mentally adding ‘bottle of whiskey’ to the shopping list.

It felt like his heart was clenching up so tightly that it would burst, the pain growing and then lessening again just when he thought he was going to have to pull over. Both hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles white as he focused on the road ahead of him, forcing himself not to drift.

What the hell is going on with me? He thought, blinking his eyes hard. When he opened them, he caught sight of a figure standing in the middle of the road as if waiting for him. Scarlet dress rippling in the wind and as he drew a little closer, realisation hit him that it was Becky, or at least her body.

She wasn’t moving, didn’t look as if she was even going to make an attempt to and by the time he realised he feared it was already too late. He slammed the brake down, head lowering as he braced himself for the stop but when he raised it to see if he’d hurt her, she was no longer there.

A car went cruising past beside him, blaring it’s horn and Dean was sure he caught the flash of an impolite gesture from the window as the car zoomed forward and away from him. He sat staring after it for a moment, heart beating fast and breathing forced as he tried to calm himself. His head fell back against the head rest and his eyes lifted to the ceiling as he wondered whether he’d imagined seeing her or if it had been some demonic trick.

Someone rapped on his window, causing him to jump and he span to look at them, a gentle face filled with confusion and worry. Winding the window down, they studied him and began to speak, “You okay there? Looked like you might have ran into trouble for a second…”

“I’m fine.” Dean replied; lifting his hand to his right eyebrow as it tingled with pain. He could see the stranger’s eyes drawn towards the spot as well. “Just a scratch.”

“You should probably get that looked at just in case, head injuries can be deadly.”

He smiled wryly in reply, pulling his hand away from the now bloody wound, “I’ve had my fair share, believe me.”

The stranger nodded, their expression one of contemplation, a do-gooder wanting to help out but not sure how and probably wondering why someone would suddenly pull an emergency stop for no reason.

“Honestly, I’m fine.” Dean reiterated, eyes falling on the empty patch of dirt just off the road, “I’ll give my brother a call and he’ll come pick me up.”

“Well if you’re sure…” The do-gooder replied, not hearing the lie beneath the words. They were hesitant but finally backed away and got back into their own car, leaving Dean to start the Impala once again and park it up on the dirt patch.

He rested his head against the steering wheel, closing his eyes. Chest pain, hallucinations… things just weren’t looking good for him and he began to wonder if maybe going out by himself so soon had been a good idea after all.

666

Sam stretched and yawned as he woke; body still tired and groggy, wishing for more sleep but he knew that he couldn’t. He pulled himself up and glanced towards Bobby, grimacing at the thought of him waking up with a crick in his neck because of the way he was sleeping. He debated waking the elder hunter but after his eyes failed to find Dean, he decided to leave Bobby to his dreams.

Leaving the office, Sam headed into the room with the vampire rats, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked towards Tanya as she busied herself with work. A frown found its way onto his features as once again, he could see no sign of Dean.

“Hey.” He called out, announcing his presence and Tanya turned to face him, smiling in reply.

“Hey.”

“You seen Dean around?”

“He went out about fifteen maybe twenty minutes ago…” She informed him as casually as she could, especially after the semi-warning she had received from Dean.

Sam’s frown deepened and he took a step forwards, “Where to?”

“To get some supplies… So I guess he’s just gonna run to town. He should be back within the hour; it’s not that far there and back.”

“Damn it…” Sam cursed, glancing behind him and towards the exit.

Tanya bit her lip as she watched the youngest, unable to help but wonder if she was missing something, “He’ll be fine.”

“We’re being hunted by a demon and he goes and pulls a stunt like this.” Sam growled, trying to reel his anger in and refrain from hitting things.

“Wait… hunted?” She paused, “Actually hunted?”

The youngest turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow as if the answer was obvious, “What did you think we were running from?”

“I didn’t know it was still chasing you… I just figured you’d must have exorcised the damn thing and then had… side effects.” Her unease returned as she thought about the static on the monitor and the possible presence of a demon.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and once again glanced towards the exit. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled his phone out, flipping it open and scrolling straight to Dean’s number, thankful that at least his brother picked up after four rings.

666

“Sammy?” Dean asked, bringing the phone up to his ear as he tried to hide the pain lacing his voice.

“What the hell are you thinking Dean? Going off without telling me or Bobby?” Sam jumped straight in with the lecturing and Dean cringed at the tone behind the words, wondering if he could really handle Sam’s mood with the way he was feeling.

“Dude, I’m getting food. Didn’t know I needed babysitters for that task…” Just act normal… He told himself, taking a deep but silent breath as he waited for Sam to reply.

He heard Sam curse under his breath as his brother tried to reason with him, “You told me it’s his move Dean… You said he’d find us. I’d just prefer being together when that happens…”

Dean nodded in understanding; knowing that Sam couldn’t see him but refusing to admit out loud that maybe Sam was right. He looked up and out onto the road as cars continued to fly passed, wondering all the while when simply going for groceries became such a hard task that might require back up.

The ripple of a red dress in amidst of the traffic caught his eye and he narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look, not that he needed to in order to know it was Becky. “Sam I…” He started but was cut short when his heart jumped up to his throat as she took a step towards him and he wanted to scream for her to stop or else she’d be ran over.

His whole body became tense as he watched her somehow manage to avoid the cars and she made her way over to him, Sam’s words lost on him as he gritted his teeth waiting to find out what her arrival meant, along with the yellow eyes glaring at him through the gloom.

666

666

First day of my life

666

“Sam I…” Dean started and Sam’s whole body seemed to freeze when his brother didn’t continue passed those words.

“Dean, what’s going on?” He asked, barely realising his grip had tightened on the phone as he grew tense, “Talk to me Dean! Goddamnit! Answer m--”

His voice fell flat as the noises of passing cars from the phone turned to static and he his hand shot out towards the door frame to keep him standing. His brother was out there by himself, only by the sounds of it he wasn’t by himself anymore. He breathed in deeply, trying to think of a plan but couldn’t even stop his hands from shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Tanya asked from just behind him, a frown clearly etched into her features.

“Dean… he’s…” He swallowed, unable to get any further. After all, he wasn’t certain Dean was in trouble, the phone could have just died… He span to look at her, almost pleading with her, “I need to borrow your car.”

“My car…” She repeated, hands already automatically searching her body for the keys before her eyes landed on the stray set sitting on the work surface. She pointed towards them and Sam reached out, plucking them up and turning to start stalking towards the way out.

Tanya followed, getting her card ready to let the youngest Winchester out, “What do you want me to do...?”

“Wake Bobby up, tell him I’m heading towards town to find Dean and tell him to join us as soon as he has some supplies sorted, gonna need something more than holy water…” Sam answered, mind still trying to formulate more of a plan but he just couldn’t seem to get passed ‘get to Dean’.

Without another word, as soon as the door was open, Sam was out into the car park and heading towards the two remaining cars. One was Bobby’s so he knew the other had to belong to Tanya. Unlocking it, he climbed in and started it up, pulling out as tyres screeched against the concrete surface, burning rubber so he could get to Dean faster.

666

“So you are stalking me then?” Dean smirked sardonically as the yellow eyed demon drew closer, climbing from the Impala to stand face to face with him and the angel he possessed.

“And you are just full of snark, ain’t ya Dean?” The demon replied, a smile spreading across its features as it looked Dean up and down.

Dean paused, feeling naked as he thought about all his weapons being in the trunk. He’d never make it to them in time… “What do you want?”

“I want to show you your potential…” The demon laughed, rolling its eyes a little, “So you can be all you can be.”

Dean snarled at the mocking tone, taking a step to the side, just one slow one… “Potential? What, you mean a potential to go evil? Ha! Join the dark side? Huh? That’d be a hell no.”

“Sam feels it…” The demon grinned as Dean’s heart skipped a beat, “Yeah, that’s right… little brother feels the darkness spreading throughout him. And he’s not the only one is he?”

“You’re twisted…”

“I’m a demon, what do you expect? Lollipops and candy canes?”

When Dean remained quiet, the demon continued, the smile ever present, “You’ve been a thorn in my side since you were a kid. I’ve always wanted Sam but you… you were nothing to me. You were just Sammy’s little guardian, a wall blocking my way to him. But you’re more than that… aren’t you?”

Dean glanced down, trying to judge whether he could chance another side step towards the trunk, not expecting the sharp twist of pain inside his chest that brought him to his knees. The pain from the impact shot up through his body, causing him to grimace for a moment before regaining control.

“Exchanged your angel to keep your brother safe… all this time and you didn’t even know you had done it. And for what though? I mean seriously…” The demon paused as if expecting Dean to answer him but the eldest Winchester was lost for words.

Ever since he’d found out about his ‘gift’ things just got a whole lot more complicated. The demon was going at them overtime, tension between the brothers was so thick that Dean felt himself choking half the time and now… now he was setting fire to things and that was getting dangerous.

“See, there’s something you don’t know about my chosen kiddies Deano.” The demon carried on his twisted tale, pacing in front of Dean as the eldest Winchester knelt rooted to the spot, “When they’re six months old, I pay them a visit… but you already know that bit right?”

“You son of a bitch.” Dean growled out, fists tightening.

“No, the bit you don’t know about is about the blood. I give them a taste of my blood.”

Dean’s jaw nearly dropped, his face turning pale as he thought about the night his mother died and what the demon was implying, “You trying to say you fed my brother blood? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means his blood is tainted with mine.” The demon tilted its head and surveyed Dean, the one who had slipped through the cracks for so long.

“I don’t believe you.”

The demon shrugged and moved closer, edging in, “Doesn’t matter whether you do or not. See, I’ve got a theory ‘cause Sammy’s generation ain’t the only one’s who got my treatment.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, watching as the demon continued on, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“How much do you really know about mommy dearest Dean? How much do you know about who she was and what she’s done?”

The mention of his mom immediately brought his hackles up and he pushed himself from the ground, ignoring the twisting pain inside his chest and standing face to face with the demon as it stopped and appraised him, “You leave my mother out of this.”

“No can do Dean my boy… see, she got the same treatment as Sam… her blood was tainted, just like Sam’s is and well, I reckon she passed something down. After all, Sam is much more powerful than all the others.”

“I don’t give a crap about what you’re telling me… Sam is not like them and he’s definitely not like you!”

“Little slow on the uptake there Dean…” The demon moved even closer, levelling his eyes with Dean as a grin spread slowly across its face, “Sam isn’t the only one she passed her blood onto… is he?”

He felt like he’d just been winded, all breath leaving his body at the weight of the demon’s words. He shook his head but refused to look away, taking a step backwards but that was all. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“What’s the matter Dean? Scared to have a little darkness in your soul? Don’t tell me you don’t feel that excitement when you kill something… or someone? How did it feel killing my son? Putting that bullet through his head… you enjoyed it… didn’t you? ‘Cause you sure as hell didn’t regret it.”

“You know nothing about me.” He growled in reply, “You don’t know how I felt.”

“And apparently neither do you.”

Dean had been about to deny what the demon was said, even though his heart clenched and ached in hesitation, he’d been about to tell him where he could shove his theories and musings but he was a second too late.

Yellow Eyes turned to the side and his smile shifted for a second into an irritable grimace, he’d run out of time for now. Dean followed his line of sight, gaze landing on a car approaching far too quickly to be just any driver.

“Sam…” He whispered under his breath as he watched the car.

“Well playtime’s over kiddies…” The demon announced, clapping his hands together, “’Til next time Deano...”

But when Dean turned back round, the demon was gone, leaving him there, standing alone at the side of the road. Confused and aching, he stood staring in disbelief at the spot where the demon had been.

It had to be a lie… right?

666

He knew the basic route to town, knew by instinct which way Dean would go… and he followed it, ignoring all the other drivers so he could reach Dean. “Please be okay… Jesus Christ Dean… you just can’t keep doing this to me.”

And several miles down the road, there it was, the sleek black Impala. It sat at the side of the road whilst his brother stood beside it looking forlorn and lost… Sam pulled up carefully behind it, jumping from the car as soon as it stopped moving. “Dean!” He called out, setting off at a run towards the Impala.

His heart was in his throat, already fearing the worst.

“Dean?” He questioned, slowing down as he got closer to his brother. Finally his brother blinked and turned to look at him, face kept deliberately blank and unreadable. Sam hated it when Dean did that. “What happened?”

And then he was back, breaking from the daze completely as anger coloured his features and Dean span around so he was facing the Impala, “Nothing.”

“The phone went dead. That’s hardly nothing.” Sam retorted, matching his brother’s sudden heated manner. He resisted the temptation to force Dean back round so they were standing face to face.

Dean sighed and pulled the driver’s door open all the way. All he wanted to do was lie down in a dark and empty room so he could clear his mind and get his thoughts straight. He couldn’t tell Sam what the demon had said… Hell, just telling him about the demon would set off a round of twenty questions which Dean just couldn’t handle. “No signal… simple as.”

Sam frowned, his stomach twisting as he noticed how pale his brother looked, worry spread throughout him, “You up to driving?”

“I’m fine Sam.” Dean all but growled, he was distant, lost in thought… Sam recognised the far away expression in his eyes and whatever Dean was thinking about was making him angry.

“I’ll follow you back then… Supplies can wait ‘til tomorrow, right?”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

No arguments about heading back? Sam swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Something was up and Dean wasn’t giving any hints as to what that was. He moved back towards Tanya’s car and started it back up, ready to follow his brother. He didn’t believe him about the signal, he couldn’t. He wasn’t stupid, he recognised signs when he saw them and static was most definitely a sign, especially when combined with the Winchesters.

Carefully watching the car ahead, Sam tried to remember where he’d last seen the holy water. Dean wasn’t acting like himself which either meant possession… or he was hiding something. Neither of which Sam liked the idea of but with the use of holy water and a few good incantations he could at least rule one out. He couldn’t help the wry chuckle that escaped when he thought about using just holy water when the thing has possessed their dad before.

“Damn it Dean, what happened when the phone went dead?” He pondered out loud, anger and confusion ebbing through him.

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666

Feel

666

They arrived back at the Doc’s pretty quickly and Dean clambered from the Impala, walking at a slow enough pace that Sam caught up to him without even trying. He felt Sam nudge him, knowing it was probably meant as a way to instigate conversation but Dean paid no heed. He was lost inside his own mind.

Demon blood? He took an unsteady breath, barely noticing that they were at the entrance to the lab already. His mom… Sam… him… No, it wasn’t possible. He didn’t know everything about his mom but surely he knew enough, the demon was lying… screwing with him. Trying to mess his mind up even more, make it vulnerable for whatever the demon had planned.

“Where the hell have you two been?” A voice rang out from behind the pair, bringing Dean away from his troubled thoughts for a moment as they span simultaneously to face Bobby emerging from around the back of his car and slamming the trunk lid closed. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered, taking the boys in with his eyes before sighing deeply.

He didn’t miss the subtle widening of Sam’s eyes as the youngest tried to convey the need to speak in private, nor did he miss the way the gesture went completely unnoticed by Dean as the eldest seemed in a world of his own. One hand weaved behind his back just to make sure his gun was still there if needed whilst he held the flask of holy water he’d been retrieving from the trunk in the other.

“Dean decided to go for supplies.” Sam answered, eyes falling on the flask and his body relaxed a little as he thought about the protection just in case the demon was about… or hitching a ride in his brother.

“You drop them in a vat of invisible ink or something?” Bobby quipped, earning a harsh roll of the eyes from Dean accompanied by a growl as the eldest turned away and held his finger on the buzzer for the intercom.

“Yeah, Dean didn’t exactly get far… he was parked to the side of the road… which we’re gonna talk about once we’re inside.” Sam explained, throwing the last comment at his brother in a warning tone, telling him that there would be no evading the impending interrogation.

“A deer or someone ran out in front of the car…” Dean muttered distractedly, releasing the button only to dig it in a couple of times before holding once more.

Sam’s brows knitted together at Dean’s wording, immediately picking up on the slip and a glance at Bobby told him he wasn’t the only one, “Someone?”

“Wha?”

“You said someone.”

“No I didn’t.” He denied, thankful when Tanya eventually opened the door to let them all in. He slipped past her and headed straight towards the office, his head spinning as his mind taunted him with the words ‘demonic blood’. “I said something… right?” He muttered to himself, swallowing hard as he scrubbed a hand across his face.

He just needed to be alone… just needed to think and get his head screwed on straight before facing his brother and Bobby again. He could do that… All he had to do was convince himself that everything the demon had said was a lie. That wouldn’t be hard to do… Demons lie all the time. They lie without even meaning to.

“I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth too?” Jo had once asked him.

“Yeah sometimes I guess… especially if they know it’ll mess with your head.” That had been his answer to her.

He cringed as he thought about it, trying to force the idea way back, trying to bury it deep inside his head so he would never have to think of it again… so Sam would never learn of it. But it wouldn’t go, firmly planted there as the words continued to circle.

“Damn it.” He swore, slamming the office door closed without looking behind him, too lost in thought that he probably didn’t even notice the absence of footsteps anyway.

“It’s not true…” He choked out quietly, voice broken and confused, “We’re hunters… we’re not the same as them.”

666

“What happened Sam?” Bobby asked as soon as they were back into the building, Tanya securing the door behind them. His eyes watched as Dean stalked off by himself, fingers subconsciously tightening around the flask.

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “We were on the phone and it just went dead… he says the signal went…” He paused, glancing down the corridor, “But when I went to find him he was parked up… standing next to the Impala… staring out at the traffic.”

“So you think the demon was there?”

“What else could it have been?”

“Maybe he really did lose the signal?” Tanya tried weakly, fidgeting with her card whilst she stood beside the two men. Demon… she really didn’t like the sound of that word. It was just more imposing than vampire, or werewolf. It brought forth images of horns and red skin, talons and claws, imposing and frightening…

Sam shook his head; he wasn’t naive enough to believe that was the case, “I wanna make sure he ain’t possessed.”

Bobby removed his cap with his free hand and ran a hand through his hair as he spoke. He understood Sam’s need to know. “How?”

“The drink test’ll do. I’ll slip it in something cold and watch him take a swig…”

“You think that’ll work with your demon?”

“Nope but I just… I gotta do something. ‘Cause he’s either possessed or he’s hiding something… Why wouldn’t he tell me if he saw the demon?”

Bobby snorted, handing the flask over and shaking his head, “You don’t really think he’s possessed do you? You just don’t like the idea that he ain’t telling you everything.”

Sam chewed on his bottom lip as he took the flask but didn’t answer. He tried to justify the use of holy water by telling himself that maybe it would affect the yellow eyed demon if he drank it, more than if he was just splashed with it. But he knew deep down inside that what Bobby said was true. He didn’t think Dean was possessed but on some level, he’d prefer it to the thought of more secrets between the brothers.

“I’ve… I’ve got some whiskey in one of the back rooms.” Tanya spoke up, turning to walk towards the room she spoke of, “It’s not the best but you could slip some in that.”

Sam nodded gratefully and followed her as she led the way, pulling out the whiskey and several glasses when they got there. She poured them each a drink and one for Dean, downing her own before pouring herself another and handing two glasses to Sam.

“Never thought you as the whiskey type.” Bobby raised an eyebrow, taking a swig of his own drink.

“It’s an acquired taste… as my Daddy used to say.”

Sam took his and Dean’s glasses, placing them down only long enough to pour a bit of holy water in each, just in case he mixed them up a long the way. He glanced back at the doc and Bobby, breathing deeply before leaving them to go see Dean. When he reached the office, he balanced the glasses and knocked on the door before opening it.

“Hey…” He announced his arrival, noting how Dean was sitting with his head resting in his hands and his elbows rested on his legs.

Dean looked up, distant eyes refocusing on Sam as he returned to the present. Sam held out a glass and he eyed it for a moment before reaching out and taking it. “We celebrating something?” He asked dryly, hitching his lip into a sardonic smile.

Sam didn’t answer, just sat himself on the arm of the couch instead and stared down at his drink as Dean took a long drink of his, “Dean… what happened out there?”

He heard Dean sigh next to him and felt himself mimic the action. His brother played with the glass in his hands before standing up and moving over to the desk, leaning against it as if being seated so close to Sam was crowding him. “Sa-am… I know you’re trying to help but… I just need to sort a few things out first.”

He looked up to stare hard at Dean, anger flashing momentarily in his eyes as he thought about the last time they were in this room together and how Dean had told him about Becky being an angel and that he didn’t regret making the deal if it meant saving Sam. And now Dean was hiding more.

“What things? What do you need to sort out?” He demanded.

“Drop it Sam.”

“I need to know what happened Dean. If you don’t tell me then you’re putting us all in danger and that’s not like you at all.” Sam shrugged, glancing away for a second before adding, “So maybe you’re not Dean… maybe you’re the demon.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Dean growled angrily, “You saying that because I’m not all care and share, asking ‘how high’ when you say ‘jump’, that I must be possessed?”

Sam shook his head, knowing it had been a low thing to say. He tried for a half smile and scoffed, “Well the holy water test failed.”

Dean’s face visibly paled and his grip loosened on the glass. Sam watched as it fell to the floor and shattered, Dean’s eyes growing distant for mere moments before the sound of the glass crashing brought him back to the now.

“You put holy water in my drink?”

“I had to be sure…”

“By spiking my drink?” He spat the word out like venom, causing Sam to frown at the use of the term.

“Why should it bother you so much? You’d have done the same.” Sam immediately jumped to his own defence, standing up so he was towering above his brother.

“You trust me so little that you put holy water in my drink?” Dean forced the words out, his voice strained as he spoke, body falling back against the desk for some well needed support. Dean gripped the edge of the desk hard with both hands as he tried to stop them shaking, he felt his face flush from embarrassment of having reacted the way he did but somewhere inside his mind, when Sam mentioned the holy water… he just expected pain to take a hold of him.

Of course there had been none. Just like every other time he’d come into contact with the stuff, unless it was being used to cleanse a supernatural wound that was… then it had a habit of hurting like a bitch.

Not demonic blood. He told himself unconvincingly, unable to look his brother in the eye but instead tracing the fragments of broken glass that littered the rug on the floor. He felt Sam’s hand grip his upper arm gently, and he looked up into the confused puppy dog eyes, his own face a mixture of shock from the sudden contact and uncertainty as his heart pounded hard inside his chest.

“Dean… what’s going on?”

666

666

Family Portrait

666

Past

“Come on kiddo.” Mary cooed softly, zipping up her son’s jacket and grabbing his hand before setting off at a gentle pace.

“Ice-cream?” Dean asked; a smile planted firmly on his features as he fell into a ‘step step quick step’ beside his mom.

Mary shook her head in amusement and chuckled. It had quickly become their weekly ritual, settling down to some ice cream before running a few errands that needed taking care of. Even as the months turned cold, Dean remained just as excited about loading himself up with the rich creamy substance, choosing a different combination of flavours every week, “Yeah, we’ll get some ice-cream first.”

“Green and brown this week…” He said as he pulled a serious face, the expression in his eyes saying how he’d thought about the decision thoroughly as if it had been just as important as any other choice he’d had to make in his life.

“Sounds good to me.”

She smiled and looked ahead whilst Dean’s eyes wandered to the other side of the street, growing wide at the sight of multicoloured balloons tied up on a shop sign. Excitement stirred inside him as he watched them dancing on the gentle breeze, a shiny yellow one entrancing him.

It happened so quick that Mary was barely even prepared for it. Dean yelled something about balloons and his small hand slipped from hers so he could go racing off towards the thing that tempted him. She span on the spot, eyes landing on the green truck speeding down the road and headed straight for her son.

“DEAN!” She screamed, immediately rushing forward and dropping down around him protectively like a shield.

She heard the tyres screech to a halt behind them, heard metal crunching and glass breaking but all she cared about was protecting her son. A car door creaked open and she looked up, feeling a horrible dread inside of her as she noticed how the truck looked like it had smashed into an invisible wall. The man stared at his car in shock before looking towards the woman kneeling in front of it.

“Jesus Lady! What the hell did you do to my truck?”

She opened her mouth to speak, the words failing her. She hadn’t meant to do anything like that… she hadn’t meant for that to happen. She was just protecting her son… The man eyed her suspiciously and she squirmed under his scrutiny, pulling Dean into a tighter hug as if she feared he would look at her son the same way.

“I…” But still she couldn’t speak, her mind aware on some level that at least the stranger in front of her was the only one around to see what had happened.

He laughed, eyes flashing yellow and her body froze, suddenly realising exactly who this person was. She pulled herself up, pushing Dean behind her and he obeyed quietly, probably too shaken to even realise what had happened.

“You stay away from Dean!” She warned the man in front of her, “I mean it!”

“Oh, Dean’s of no interest to me. It’s your other son I want.”

“My other…” Her hand immediately flew to her abdomen, her face betraying her, “But how did you…”

She’d only just found out herself that she was pregnant, she hadn’t even had the time to tell John… yet this thing in front of her knew?

“I can sense him… I can feel the power growing inside.”

He took a step forward and she forced herself and Dean backwards, “You stay away from my family. You have no right… you hear me?! Stay away!”

The man shrugged and turned to leave, already knowing that when the time came, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

666

Present

There were so many scattered all over. He’d found a deep pleasure in visiting them when they were just babies and he enjoyed watching them as they grew, thrived on their pain and anguish and in some, bloodlust.

Max Miller, the kid that got screwed over so badly he eventually used his powers against the people that treated him that way. But in the end, he took his own life… such a waste.

The Weam’s kid had been fun to play with. He was part of a pair, something that the demon had been particularly intrigued about. So much potential… he could have been great, if his other half hadn’t killed him first.

Andrew Gallagher, the other half… The same abilities but a completely different attitude. He obviously had it in him to kill but it was so much harder pushing the right buttons with that kid, damn noble streak.

Scott Carey was another one like that… he didn’t want to hurt anybody. It just happened accidentally… Didn’t stop him from trying to protect himself from the damn hunter that slashed him.

Little steps, that’s all it took… using the right words, the right actions… enticing them. Ava was proof of that. She was so sweet that is was pretty sickening but she sharp changed her mind about things after her fiancé had been seen to.

And then there was Samuel Winchester. The one and only… If he had to choose a favourite, it would have been Sam. He was so powerful but didn’t even realise what he capable of, he hadn’t even tapped into nearly half of his powers yet… merely skimming the surface whenever his body and mind dived in times of need. And with all the training he’d had as a hunter, he’d make for the perfect general.

But in the past, there had always been one thing standing in the demon’s way. Dean Winchester. The elder brother. But that had all changed now. Where as in the past, Dean had been a pest… a bug that got up in his face one too many times… now, now he was something that the demon could use, something that the demon wanted to use.

Sam and Dean Winchester. What a pair… hunters ‘til the end, or so they believed. Both with their own unique abilities… both with their own little attributes that would come in handy… both with a little demon blood running through their veins.

And of course, that was all thanks to Mary. She’d been another… she’d been powerful like Sam, so much untapped power. But the demon hadn’t been ready to use her generation the same way he wanted to use Sam’s. All that power… wasted. Only maybe it wasn’t… maybe she served her purpose after all, passing on her blood and his to both boys.

666

“Dean, I need you to tell me the truth…” Sam paused to let the words sink in, letting go of his brother’s arm and taking a step backwards, “Was it the demon?”

Sighing deeply, Dean scrubbed a hand across his face and forced himself to swallow the thick lump forming in his throat. He nodded his head before letting his small broken voice say “Yes.”

“What did he do Dean?” Sam asked, breathless as he thought about the demon being out there and targeting his brother, doing and saying God knows what. And this whole time Dean was just going to keep it quiet…?

“He didn’t do anything…” Dean looked up, “He just… tried to screw with my head.” And man it worked… He thought offhandedly.

“How?” Sam demanded, “Talk to me Dean! Tell me how.”

“He was… he was telling me about all the kids…”

“The psychic kids? Like me?”

He nodded reluctantly in reply, knowing that now he’d started to spill, he couldn’t stop. Sam wasn’t going to let him. His brother’s determined gaze stayed on him, unwavering, eyes locked in position.

Sam stiffened up, his body turning rigid, “What did he say?”

“He said that you’ll all turn into pumpkins at midnight.” He half smiled, trying for a joke to lighten the heavy mood that had fallen so quickly but it only served to make him feel a little more empty inside as he thought how they were well passed jokes now.

“Dean.” Sam warned, face dark and serious.

“Trust me, my version’s better.” Dean mumbled under his breath, going on to tell the truth before he bottled out of it, “The kids Sammy… he ‘tainted’ them with demon blood…His demon blood.”

It sounded better than telling Sam that he made the kids actually drink the stuff. So he wasn’t being completely honest... but wasn’t it enough that he had to say it anyway?

“So I have demon blood inside of me?” Sam asked, carrying on before Dean even had a chance to answer, “And you were just planning on keeping this to yourself? You weren’t gonna tell me? You had no right to try and keep it a secret… it’s not your secret to keep!”

Dean smiled sardonically tilting his head to the side as he surveyed his brother, “Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the fun bit yet.”

“You gonna kill me?” Sam went on as if he hadn’t even heard his brother speak, skin flushed with anger, “You’ve got a reason to… go on, carry out Dad’s orders. I’m bound to go dark side if I have demon blood in me!”

“Shut up Sam…” He muttered dejectedly before staring hard at his brother and speaking again in an angrier tone, “Just shut up and let me finish.”

Sam clenched his teeth and forced himself into stony silence, looking away from Dean’s gaze.

“He said that…” Dean paused, taking a breath. He wasn’t sure he could voice it out loud, it was hard enough having the demon’s voice repeating it over and over in his head. He swallowed once more and closed his eyes briefly, “He said that mom was one of his kids… said she was like you.”

“What are you saying Dean?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes, “What does that mean?”

“I dunno Sam…” He pushed himself forward so he was no longer facing his brother, feeling his walls crumbling under the pressure of the new information, “But he said she got the same ‘treatment’…”

Sam shook his head and went to grab his brother’s arm but froze, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he let it fall back to his side. The holy water… they way his brother reacted to it… His brows creased and he hung his head as he voiced his thoughts, “You think its inside us… you think his blood is inside us both… don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to think right now Sammy."

666

666

The Four of us are Dying

666

Demon blood… running through their veins… passing through their hearts… blackening their souls. No… it couldn’t be true. Sam shook his head as he stared at the back of his brother’s head. Demons lied. Demons liked to screw with your head. But the way Dean acted… like he believed it. More than anyone, more than anything, Sam trusted Dean. If Dean thought the yellow-eyed demon was telling the truth then Sam believed it too.

“You don’t know?” Sam muttered, half repeating the elder Winchester’s words. It was more of an acceptance than a question, just to try and wrap his head around what Dean had told him.

Demon blood…

“I…” Dean started softly and Sam saw him squirm like he always did when he was trying to think of the right thing to say. He turned his head to the side so he was looking at Sam with one eye and he continued, “I wasn’t gonna keep it from you… I just… I wanted to figure it out before - I dunno, I just…”

Sam sighed and moved over to the sofa, dropping down onto it and leaning forwards, elbows on his knees. “I know.” He answered, stopping his brother from going any further, “I know that Dean.”

Dean didn’t answer; instead he remained silent, eyes glancing down at the broken glass on the floor. Looking up, Sam watched him, wondering what was going on inside Dean’s head, knowing that the best way he could sum everything up was simply to say they were screwed. As if growing up hunting the darkness wasn’t bad enough, now they were told they might have some of it inside of them.

“What we gonna do Dean?”

“Nothing. We’re just gonna keep on going and we’re gonna kill that son of a bitch.” Finally his eyes locked with Sam’s, desperate but strong, “No one needs to know.”

Nodding in agreement, Sam dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, a headache building as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

“You okay Sam?”

“M’fine.” He muttered, even as the headache spread from behind his eyes to his temple, with short shooting pains that irritated him more than anything. But they came faster each time, growing more and more intense that just rubbing the bridge of his nose or his temple wasn’t enough to relieve the pain.

“Nah, that’s my line Sammy…” Dean narrowed his eyes, dropping to his knees in front of Sam.

It was when Sam realised that the headache wasn’t easing off that he worked out what it really was but by then the blinding light and images were already hitting him so hard that he nearly fell forwards towards the ground. He might have managed to call out to Dean but he wasn’t sure, the vision taking him in completely.

He didn’t recognise the place; all he knew was that the closest thing he’d seen to it was in the movies or on the news. It was dark, but not just because of the dying sun. The air was a turmoil of black and grey smoke, thicker in some areas than others but still just as ominous.

Someone cried out in pain and the vision focused on them, a hand wrapped tightly around their throat, only relenting enough for them to force their words out.

“You don’t want to do this. This isn’t you…” Bobby pleaded, the words broken and hurt.

But the hand tightened once more and the elder hunter struggled beneath it before finally falling still and slumping to the ground as the killer released him. But the killer’s face remained completely blank, void of all emotion, resembling a mindless zombie with dark and empty eyes - so unlike the bright hazel green orbs he was used to seeing.

A soldier’s empty shell. Merciless but obedient to the one who commanded it, the one he was protecting.

And that person stood behind the Dean that Sam couldn’t bare to see, looming over him, watching him. They smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it Dean?” The stranger spoke, because he was a stranger… he was someone completely unrecognisable even though Sam knew exactly who he was.

He stared at the face just like he would stare at his own reflection, wondering what could have happened to make him so cold. But he already knew it would have something to do with the yellow eyed demon.

“Sam!” He heard his brother cry out but the vision Dean didn’t even more.

Before he had a chance to realise what was happening, he was opening his eyes and waking from the vision. He only registered that he was lying on the floor when Dean helped him back onto the sofa, brow wrinkled with worry.

He hadn’t meant to do it, but with his mind still reeling from the vision, he jerked away when Dean went to check his head. He was shaking, fear running through him at such a rate Sam faintly wondered if it was possible for his heart to explode from it. He didn’t miss the flash of hurt on Dean’s face, causing his stomach to drop and churn with guilt.

“What was it?” The eldest Winchester asked, ignoring the fact that Sam had just pulled away from him, his heart already hammering with the possibilities.

“I’m not sure.” Sam breathed, wincing at the remaining headache pounding in his skull.

“Unless the rules have suddenly changed, I thought this was show and tell. So you wanna share with the rest of the class Sam?” Dean voiced, taking on a warning tone as he stared hard at Sam, “Now what did you see?”

Sam couldn’t help but notice how his brother was deliberately not touching him, as if fearing Sam would pull away again. “How can we even be sure if it was real Dean? He could have planted the vision and manipulated it like he did before…”

“That bad, huh?” Dean sighed, dropping backwards so he was sitting fully on the floor in front of Sam, “Me or you?”

Surprised by the question, Sam couldn’t help but frown, “What?”

“Simple question Sam. Who was it about? You only ever get like this if it’s either me or you involved.”

Was he that easy to read? Sam looked down, shrugging and hesitating before answering, “Both.”

“Well that’s a start…” Dean rolled his eyes, “Now do you wanna tell me more?”

“You killed Bobby.” Sam finally admitted, refusing to look up, “And I think… I think I ordered you to do it…”

“What do you mean Sam? Why would I do that? Why would you…?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll give you two guesses who’s behind it…”

Demon blood… Did they really have it running through their veins? Sam felt his chest tightening as he buried his face in his hands and concentrated on breathing. It wasn’t fair… why them?

666

----

But first... because it has been nearly seven months by my reckoning and because I can't be the only person out there with the memory of a goldfish, I'm gonna post a tiny recap.

Once upon a time, a naiive author wrote a one shot in which the YED decided to burn Dean using the same method he'd used on Mary and Jess, and being the evil author she was, she had Sam watch. Only the eldest Winchester refused to burn and then the story really began, as she was persuaded to elaborate on her little plot bunny.

Escaping from the clutches of the evil SOB that is the YED, the boys tried to figure things out and find out what all the new information meant - but the YED wasn't so keen on letting them go, haunting Dean's dreams and following them as they tried to get away. Then in came Becky, a mysterious young girl with a strange attachment to Dean and the YED was intrigued, later possessing the young angel and using her in order to manipulate Dean before finally revealing the truth about Dean's connection to the girl. She was his guardian angel, was being the operative word as he had traded her as a child in order to 'protect Sammy from the fire'.

And upon revealing this bit of information and gaining some knew knowledge himself (the little fact that Dean can also control fire), the YED leaves the boys to it - only he also left a little something in Dean, a poison that works its way through his system, pushing him into a nightmare world where the demon once again tries to manipulate him in order to get what he wants. But Sam is determined to save Dean, calling Bobby to his aid. He and the seasoned hunter use a dream catcher to wake the eldest Winchester up, only to get a shock as Dean's ability progresses so much that now he can create fire from nothingness.

And things only get worse as they head out to an old aquintence of Bobby's in hopes of finding a cure for the poison running through Dean's veins. After a very close shave, Dean is injected with a temporary antidote that seemingly clears the poison only it doesn't manage to get rid of it all. But the bad news doesn't stop there as yet another run in with the YED reveals that Mary passed on demon blood to both Sam and Dean which makes the YED even more determined to claim them as his own and when Dean finally owns up to what he learned, Sam is presented with a vision of the possible future, one that neither of the brothers want to see come to pass... so now decisions must be made, actions must be taken as the end game draws ever closer.

Now doesn't that bring back memories? ^_^ So on with the show...

666

Fight for all the Wrong Reasons

666

There’s something about being told that you are nothing more than a pawn in some nasty son of a bitches’ game of demonic chess that really gets your blood pumping and makes your nerves tingle in such a way that you just want to get out there and fight. That was exactly how Dean felt and he was pretty sure Sam could feel the same adrenaline running through his system. Deep down inside, he felt a silent resignation filling him slowly. This was it. Do or die. It was time to stop hiding under the covers and waiting for the monsters in the shadows to just disappear, now was the time to take a more proactive approach to the situation… now was the time to fight… to kill the demon.

Nodding slowly, he pushed himself up to pace the floor in front of Sam, hand weaving up to rub his chin absently as he worked his way through their options. They wanted the demon dead, that much was a definite. The how was a little trickier. So far, the only weapon they had come across that would be capable of doing that was the colt… and that was currently in the hands of the yellow eyed SOB. Unless…

“I’ve got a plan,” he announced abruptly, coming to a halt and swinging to look at his brother. Sam’s face fell into a puzzled frown and his head tilted in a questioning manner.

“I’m sorry? You have a plan?” There was an element of doubt and hesitation in Sam’s voice that frustrated Dean no end. He really needed his brother to believe in him, after all, the idea was so far fetched that he barely believed in it himself.

He took a breath before continuing. He needed all the oxygen he could get in order to stay standing, especially with the look of worry and scepticism in Sam’s eyes. “I hurt him before, when I burned him. If I could somehow control it… maybe I could do some damage.”

“That’s it? That’s your plan? Dean, that’s just plain stupid. It’s suicidal.” Sam shook his head and sank a little further into the couch, head raised as his eyes fell closed and it seemed as if he was trying to stop himself from jumping up and physically throttling his brother.

“Well, you got a better one?”

“Yes actually!” he snapped, a growl on the undertone of his voice, “I plan to keep myself and my idiotic brother alive!”

“And just how long do you expect that to last if we just sit around here waiting for Hell to come and claim us?”

“A hell of a lot longer then if we go out there looking for it!”

“Sam, listen to me. This could be our only chance. We need to strike now, while we still can.” There was a pleading tone to his voice; he could feel it even as he said the words, just as he could still feel the stinging in his heart as the poison sat there waiting. He imagined it reacting with the parts of him that were tainted and it felt so damn unnerving to think of it.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Gee, I don’t know Sam. You’re the one who had the vision, why don’t you tell me?”

Sam drew in a long breath, his body falling forwards as he rested his head in his trembling hands. “That’s not fair Dean…” He whispered, voice broken and lost.

“I know…” Dean felt himself relenting, softening as he leant against the armrest and looked down at his brother. “I didn’t mean… I just – I can feel it. Not so much the blood but the poison. And I’m scared of what that means. I wanna fight him Sam, while I know I’m still the one in control.”

Sam lifted his gaze, those puppy dog eyes so sad as they glistened with unspent tears. “We’ll tell Tanya, get her to find something more permanent… there has to be a way.”

“And what if things get bad in the mean time, while she’s trying to find something? What if it spreads and I hurt someone… what if I hurt you?”

“So you’d rather sacrifice yourself, is that it? You’d rather throw yourself at his mercy and just pray that somehow your idiotic plan works?”

“I know I can do this Sam. It will work. It has to. I was given this… this thing to protect you from him, so it’s got to work. Please… I just need you to trust me.”

He held his breath as Sam stayed silent, the youngest’s eyes turned away, looking anywhere but at Dean. In his mind, he pleaded… hell, he prayed for Sam to say yes, for Sam to say he trusted him. They could do this. Everything had been leading up to this and this was going to be the end game, he could feel it. Like any good hunter, he knew when to attack and when to withdraw and every single part of him was screaming to attack… to destroy the demon once and for all… to free not just him and Sam, but Becky also from that son of a bitches grip.

“Fine. But we do this smart or not at all. We make a back up plan just in case it doesn’t work.”

“It will work.” Dean reiterated, a faint smile tugging at his lips and he pushed himself away yet again, clapping his hands together – ready to get started.

“And what exactly is it?” The growling voice came from the doorway and Dean swung to face Bobby, the elder hunter looking ever imposing as he shook his head, not about to let either of them just run out there and get themselves killed.

“Dean has a plan to kill the demon.” Sam answered, joining his brother in facing Bobby, his voice and tone more sure than before but still wavering ever so slightly.

“We have to do this Bobby.” Dean carried on when he saw the reluctance in Bobby’s features, “And we have to do it alone.”

“Hell no!” No way was he going to just let them walk out there without back up, no matter how good their plan was.

It was Sam who interjected, putting a shoulder between Dean and Bobby, taking control of the situation only slightly. “We need you here Bobby. We have no idea how this thing is gonna go down so we need you safe – you’re the only one who can pick up the slack if things go south. Besides, someone’s gotta stick around and make sure Tanya gets the antidote right.”

Very subtle, Dean thought. And at just the right time as his heart chose that moment to twist, the poison stabbing into it and spilling over. He noticed as Bobby shifted, his stance falling for just a second, so brief that he nearly missed it altogether but it was there.

“I’m not gonna be able to change your minds, am I?” He sounded almost defeated as he said those words, his face attesting to how painful it was for him but at the same time, he knew he had to accept it and just let them go. Just like he knew what Sam had meant by his last comment, the slight grimace that was currently gracing Dean’s features showing the pain of the poison.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy? Why did they always require so much effort and so much sacrifice? Dean shook his head gently in reply, “Not likely.”

“Then swear to me that you won’t do anything stupid… swear to me you won’t get yourselves killed.”

“You know we can’t do that Bobby.”

Wishing he didn’t have to, Bobby moved to the side and allowed the brothers to pass, closing his eyes as they sought out Tanya in order to make their exit. If he could have stopped them, he would have. And he would have gone with them if given half the chance but he knew that it wasn’t that they didn’t want him there; it wasn’t that they thought he wouldn’t be any use to them… Sam had meant every single word when he said they needed him here. He was their back up, their hope in case they failed.

“You damn idjits.” He muttered under his breath as he watched them following Tanya towards the door before glancing up to the ceiling, eyes staring hard at it in anger as if it had done something to personally offend him. “If you’re really up there and if you can hear me, you better damn well make sure they live through this.” He needed them to survive it… those boys were his family and there was no way he’d be able to handle losing either of them.

-.-.-

666

Feelin’ Way Too Damn Good

666

Neither brother dared speak whilst Dean just drove, not even entirely sure of where he was driving to. They both just sat in silence, both mentally preparing themselves for what they were about to face because when it all came down to it, they had spent their entire lives preparing for this and they still weren’t ready… Their hearts skipped a beat in unison, neither one aware of the fleeting moment of absolute terror that had spread through the other, both plastering on their game faces and pretending to know that they knew exactly what they were doing. Truth was, they didn’t have a clue. They were guessing at best and deep down inside, they knew that… but they weren’t about to admit it.

After driving for what must have been near upon an hour, Dean finally decided this would be far enough as he pulled the Impala up at the side of the long stretch of road. Fields on either side of them and no signs of life for miles, it seemed to be the best spot. He turned the ignition off and played with the keys in his hands for a moment before dragging himself from the car, his moment of hesitation over.

There was no sign yet, but he figured it wouldn’t be long. So far, the yellow eyed demon had always been either one step ahead or one step behind - but either way, the brothers knew it was watching them, just like they knew it would follow them. Curiosity would get the better of it and it’d show, soon enough it would be there.

Sam walked around the car to join Dean as he closed the door, both taking a deep breath, not sure if they were ready for this… in fact, pretty damn sure that they weren’t ready. His fingers played with the keys for another moment before he stretched his arm out towards Sam and dropped them into his brother’s open hand.

“What the hell Dean?” Confusion passed over the youngest’s face as he stared down at the keys before his gazed lifted to follow Dean.

Swallowing, Dean walked several feet in the direction that the car was pointed before spinning on the spot to face Sam in order to answer him. “I want you to get the hell out of here if things go wrong. I mean it, swear to me Sammy…”

“I thought you said that this’ll work?” Sam growled out, his teeth gritted as his hand tightened around the keys and his eyes hardened.

“Well, I’m about ninety percent sure it should work.”

“Dean,” Sam started, shaking his head gently, gaze softening once more as determination set in. Without even thinking about it, he tossed the keys back towards his brother and by pure reflex and instinct alone, Dean caught them. “Listen to me for once. We’re in this together – I’m not going anywhere.”

“How sweet.” The mocking tone echoed in their ears and their heads snapped simultaneously to the side to land on the petite figure of Becky as she leaned against once of the fence posts to the side of the road. Her eyes flashed yellow momentarily before sliding back into the pure unmistakable amber, if only to remind the brothers of who was really in control of the body. “But you don’t really think you can kill me, do you?”

Dean snarled as he pocketed the keys, instantly heading back towards the car to stand with Sam, not liking the gap between them one bit. “Worth a shot if you ask me.”

“Sure, if you like medium-rare Winchester that is.” And the demon moved forward at the same time, pushing away from the post. But it stopped a foot or so in front of Sam, eyes surveying the youngest Winchester and stopping Dean in his tracks as it tilted Becky’s head to the side. “I know you saw what I have in store for you. And I know you can feel that tainted blood pumping through your veins – do you really think you can fight it? Do you really think either of you can change what you’re meant to become?”

“We’ve stopped the visions from coming true before,” Sam retorted, his body rigid but tone strong. “And we’ll damn well stop this one from happening too.”

“Of course you will.” It laughed, a grin spreading across its features as it reached its arm out towards Dean causing Becky’s hand to clench into a fist. Dean gasped instantly in reply, dropping to his knees as he clutched his chest, breathing hard – the poison once more reaching out to work its way through his system. “That’s if you can stop that first.”

“Dean!” The word left Sam’s mouth without him even needing to think about it, and his body automatically made to move towards him but the demon shook its head and used its other hand to throw Sam backwards, his body smashing into the sleek black car – sticking there, unable to move, unable to get to Dean. “Leave him alone!”

The threat was empty, after all, there wasn’t much Sam could really do in order to stop the demon from knelling in from of Dean, Becky’s gently hand gripping his chin and raising it so the two locked eyes.

“Did you really think you could control it Dean? When you can’t even control your own heart as it betrays you – pumping that poison through your veins? You really should consider my offer – I could teach you so much.”

“Go screw yourself.” Dean forced the words out on an almost breathless grunt, the pain so damn much as he struggled to get the air he needed.

But the demon merely smiled maliciously in reply, standing up and moving back towards Sam instead. And Dean wanted the demon anywhere but near his brother.

666

Mind spinning and body refusing to rest, Bobby paced the floor, worry caving in on him, smothering him. He felt useless. He felt worse than useless - stuck there while the boys were off facing their demons. Half of him, well that was a lie, all of him wanted to grab his keys and go searching for the pair of them. But he knew he couldn’t. He had to let them do this by themselves and he had to be there to pick up the pieces when they got back – because they would come back… they had to.

“Damn it Singer! Stop with the pacing ‘cause you are driving me crazy and I can’t concentrate. And if I can’t concentrate, I can’t come up with some form of antidote for your boy Dean, now can I?” Tanya’s words were laced with frustration as she turned to glare at him momentarily before going back to her work. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and fetch me the fire extinguisher from the first room...”

Growling under his breath, he let go of a grunt as he span to face her. “Why?”

Her face was a picture of calmness and anger as she spared him one more glance, though as she spoke and her voice rose to an even higher pitch than Bobby thought were possible, showing just how far away from calm she was. “Because the damn sample is on fire! That’s why!

666

Walking up to Sam, the demon stopped mere inches from him, the grin still plastered on its features as those eyes taunted the youngest Winchester. He felt vulnerable, like a rabbit trapped in a den with a very angry and very hungry dog. Only this dog wouldn’t just settle for ripping his insides out, this dog would find a way to put him back together in order to do it all over again just for the fun of it. And with Dean in the condition he was in, Sam felt his heart flitter, panic spreading throughout him.

“What about you Sammy boy?” The demon asked, placing a hand on the side of Sam’s face, almost in a loving gesture, gentle and careful – like Sam had imagined his Mom doing once upon a time. “Don’t you think he should take up my offer – and then I can help you both. So much potential if only you knew how to harness it. And what with your double shot of my blood, you could do so, so much. Visions are the very least of what you’re capable of.”

“How many times before you get the message?” Sam spat out, moving his face away from that touch, that vile and cold touch, “We’re not interested.”

“Oh, you will be.” The demon assured, its anger showing as it moved quickly, nails digging into the skin of Sam’s cheeks, not breaking it – but still they were there, hard enough so Sam knew what the demon was trying to say, silently telling him that if it wanted to, it could and no amount of pulling away on Sam’s part would be able to stop it. And then the anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, the hand dropping as the demon pushed back so that it was pacing steadily in front of the brothers.

“Deanie had a little lamb, whose soul was white as snow, but everywhere that Deanie went, the lamb was sure to go. It followed him to Hell one day, which broke its soul in two, oh how it made the demon boast, to see the lamb so screwed.” The demon spoke lightly, the meaning of its distorted poem lying definitely inside the words and not in how they were spoken – with an air of dreamy loftiness. But as the last word echoed through Sam’s skull, the demon stopped dead, spinning once more so yellow eyes were trained and locked with hazel. “Tell me Sam, how long before the poison totally works its way through Dean? Care to make a wager? Or do you prefer the odds for how long before you follow?”

“Not gonna happen.” Dean choked the words out, his hands flat against the road surface as he continued to struggle for the air and oxygen he so desperately needed, eyes closed tightly against the pain. But no matter how bad it was getting, he could still hear every word the demon said, could still here how it was trying to mess with them. “Gonna kill you first.”

“And how were you planning on doing that? Something tells me you wouldn’t be able to hurt this poor angel anymore than you already have – ‘cause you really did Dean, you really stuck that knife in and twisted it round and round when you discharged her and sent her feathery little ass packing.”

Shaking his head, Dean forced his eyes open and glared up at the demon, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Was gonna make you a deal – my body for hers. Figured you wanted it earlier so you probably still would. Only, I think you’re so damn proud that you wouldn’t count on me taking control and burning you up from the inside out.”

The demon raised its eyebrows, head tilting as if considering the deal for a moment but then the look was gone and it looked down at Dean once more – crossing the small distance before dropping to its haunches, hand resting on Dean’s shoulder casually as if it had an actual right to be there. “Smart boy – but so damn ignorant. I’ve got you right where I want you, why would I compromise that by playing a game of chance? Correct me if I’m wrong but this way, I hold all the cards. I’ve got Becky, I’ve got Sam… I’ve got you. So tell me Dean, why on earth would I want to change any of that?”

-.-.-

666

Feeling This

666

Well that was just perfect. Things were working out exactly according to plan – minus the dripping sarcasm that is. Stuck in the demon’s clutches once again and neither of them could do anything. Dean felt himself sinking in hopelessness, the poison stinging and burning as it rushed like lava through his veins and the demon smiled… the son of a bitch smiled at him, watching him, knowing how hard he was fighting it but at the same time knowing that he couldn’t win, not really. And that was what scared Dean. No matter how much he was trying, there was that part of him in the back of his head that kept telling him to just give up – he’d already lost after all.

The demon’s grip tightened on Dean’s shoulder and the effect was immediate - the thick black sludge in his system causing him to cry out in agony, his body arching up momentarily before falling back to the floor, head resting against the dirt filled road. He could barely breathe, his lungs felt so tight, so restrained that he could hardly draw in the oxygen that he needed. That explained why his head was feeling increasingly light and yet so heavy at the same time, the sound of his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears, drowning out his brother’s voice as he was sure Sam called to him. And his eyes drifted up as he forced back the dark spots that danced at the corners of his vision long enough to see the demon turn his attention to Sammy once more, no longer wanting to waste anymore time on his pawn. A damn pawn in a game of demon chess…

“Dean…” The name left Sam’s lips like a broken prayer as he pleaded for his brother to answer, to push past the pain and just answer him. But his attention was pulled away from his brother as the demon stood there grinning at him, not even caring about the pure hatred that laced the young Winchester’s face or the promise in his eyes that said ‘I will kill you’.

“You’ll learn.” The demon said simply, a look of cocky guarantee on his face as he span on the spot to lean against the hood of the Impala mere inches away from Sam, “In due time, you’ll learn. All that anger you’re feeling right now, that’s only the start of the evil that’s inside of you. Really Sam, you think you’re any better than us when you stand there with the look of murder in your eye and you imagine tearing the flesh from my very body?”

“I’m nothing like you.” Sam spat back, teeth almost grinding as his jaw locked in anger but his eyes travelled down in a moment of doubt, the seeds planted… the tiny little words that ran around his head telling him that he was less than human, that he was no better than what they hunted. But a tiny speck of hope flushed those words backwards as shallow moonlight glinted off the edge of something metal that was concealed around the back of Becky’s jeans. The colt… the arrogant son of a bitch was actually carrying it with him.

“He’s gonna lose and he’s gonna take you with him.” Yellow eyes landed on Dean but the words spoken were directed at Sam, his brother too lost in his own battles to take care of Sam’s this time. “As soon as he’s mine, so are you – such is the way of the Winchester brothers. That poison pumping through him, it’s gonna change him – and the sooner he stops fighting it the better, it’ll be less painful for him that way.”

“He’ll never stop fighting it.” And that Sam believed. No matter what twisted words the demons tried to use on him, Sam knew that his brother wouldn’t ever stop trying to beat it… he had to. The thought gave him strength and he pushed himself, trying even harder to break from the demon’s invisible grip.

“Oh, he will.” It was a statement with no doubt behind him and if it wasn’t for the fact that Dean had chosen that moment to slump forward, unmoving, Sam would have conjured up some smart ass comment that would have made his brother proud but no… instead he was consumed by panic, fearing the worst until he finally caught sight of the small movements that indicated life.

“And you’ll be right here to witness it – as soon as he wakes up.”

“What have you done to him?!” Feeling like someone had just dropped a weight into his stomach, he swallowed hard and pushed forward, his whole body tightening as he tried to thrash against the force holding him back. “What the hell have you done to him?”

“Relax Sammy boy, he’s just taking a little trip into the deep dark parts of his own mind.”

666

As soon as he opened his eyes and found himself kneeling in a different place, dark road gone to be replaced by the familiar green from his own personal nightmare world, agonising pain turned into a dull ache – he knew he was dreaming, stuck back right at the point he had left off. Except for the fact that young Sammy was no longer kneeling on the floor but instead staring down at him with murky yellow eyes.

“You’re not real.” He hissed, hazel orbs locking with the yellow and he pushed himself up from the ground, not liking the disadvantage he was at. “Just… just leave me the hell alone.”

“Aww Dean, is that really anyway to speak to your little brother?” The Sammy in front of him pouted mockingly as he spoke, head tilting to the side gently.

Shaking his head, he refused to look away, refused to show how much it scared him to see the demon possessing his Sammy, even if it was only in a dream. “You’re not my brother.”

“That hurt Dean, it really did.” The demon continued on, tutting as it shook its head softly from side to side for a moment before letting that smile spread slowly across the features of an innocent Sam, the smile that it always wore when it was mocking and antagonising the Winchesters – the one that most definitely didn’t belong on Sam’s face. “Seriously though… let’s forget about Sam for the moment, after all – this is about you.”

Dean felt his blood run cold as the demon spoke and took a step forward, their surroundings suddenly bursting into a fiery ash as the image of young Sammy turned into an image of Dean himself… like a reflection, cold and empty… copying every movement of Dean’s as the pair circled each other – the only obvious difference between the two being the yellow eyes.

666

It was killing him… whatever was happening to Dean, there was no way he could fight it alone. He needed Sam but Sam was too Goddamn weak to help him… Too weak to do anything but stand by idly and watch as his brother’s body arched and tensed, the pain evident on his features… If Sam could somehow just break free, if he could get that damn colt then he could stop it. He had to stop it. He couldn’t be weak anymore. He couldn’t let his brother down, not when Dean needed him so much. No, he was stronger than that.

Closing his eyes tight, Sam pushed himself, his heart racing in his chest as desperation spread throughout him – anger joining it as Dean called out in agony before falling silent once again. And he felt the grip falter, felt his heart stutter as he moved forward just a little. He could do it, especially now the demon was becoming increasingly distracted by Dean. Determination rose as he took in a deep breath. This time… this time he would do it. Focusing all of his energy on that one swift movement, he forced himself forwards, feeling the demonic grip shatter as he broke away from it… but he couldn’t stop there.

Before the demon could turn to look at him, he weaved his hand around its back and grabbed the colt, moving quickly away as he pointed it towards the demon. His heart was like snare, so fast you could barely distinguish one beat from the last, but no matter how much he felt his insides shaking, he held the gun steady and aimed directly at the demon’s chest. “Let my brother go.”

“Why should I? You’ll still shoot me either way.”

“I mean it!” Sam demanded, his throat clogging as he tried the swallow the hard lump that was forming. But it didn’t matter. The demon wouldn’t do it, no matter how much Sam threatened it.

Moving forwards slowly, Yellow Eyes held his hands out to the side as if he was trying to reason with Sam, as if he actually thought he could reason with Sam. No, there was no reasoning. If the demon wouldn’t let Dean go, then Sam only had one option. He shook his head, teeth clenching as he readied himself for the recoil and fired the bullet, watching as it sank into Becky’s chest and her body crumpled, the demon falling to its knees. And for the briefest second Sam felt elated…

Or at least he did until he felt himself being thrown backwards and pain sparked around the back of his head as it collided with the road, the gun ripped from his hand to go flying back towards the demon. By the time the stars had vanished from Sam’s vision, the demon was there staring down at him in all his yellow eyed glory and Sam couldn’t understand… it was impossible…

“Just how stupid do you think I am?” The words were thick and mocking as those eyes studied the gun for a moment, lips quirked at the edges. And in that moment Sam felt completely and utterly played, hazel eyes tracing the barrel of the gun, searching in desperation for those words he knew were supposed to be there…

But there was nothing. The damn gun was a fake. The whole thing had just been a sadistic trick in the sick game that the demon was playing with them. They were no closer to defeating him… and as Sam watched the bloodied wound healing, he began to wonder for the first if they ever could...

-.-.-

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Funeral Song

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“I know you Dean.” The words echoed all around the empty expanse before settling in Dean’s ears, sinking into his mind as the demon taunted him – the mirror image in front of him with a twisted smile and a sadistic twinkle to his eye. “I know how weak and pathetic you feel.” It accentuated each word, forcing them out and adding just a tiny little bit of venom behind each one, just enough to fuel Dean’s already extreme self-loathing. “I know how much you always tried to earn Daddy’s praise… Hell, I know how much you wanted him to just look at you – the way he looked at Sammy.”

“Shut up.” Dean growled, his fists clenching tightly by his sides, nails digging into his skin as he continued to circle with the demon – two alpha males fighting for dominance, and only one could win. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know how much it hurt when your Daddy told you to kill Sammy boy because he was too much of a coward to do it himself. Dean, Dean, De-an… you really need to stop lying to yourself.” The malicious grin spreader further as the demon tilted its head to the side as if appraising Dean, studying him carefully only to find him lacking. “Because you are weak Dean, weak and powerless and ignorant… but you could be so much more if you would just let me show you how. You’re gonna break Dean, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Screw you ‘cause I ain’t breaking and you… you ain’t getting me or my brother.”

But the demon shook its head in reply and it unnerved Dean to see the damn son of a bitch so confident. He could still feel the ache and stinging of that stuff inside his veins and he wondered what it was doing to his body and whether or not he had any control of it – which according to the demon, he didn’t.

“Tii-iiime, is on my side. Yes it is.” The words left the demon’s mouth in the form of a tune Dean had heard many times before and it made him stiffen as the demon mocked him, continuing with its little karaoke session as they both came to a stand still. “Tii-iiime, is on my side. Yes it is. Now you always say, that you want to be free. But you’ll come running back… you’ll come running back-”

But the repeated line faded into the background as Dean felt a gentle whisper in his ear as the voice of the angel drowned the words out, her breath causing the air to ripple as it caressed his skin. “Don’t listen to him.”

He could barely control the sharp intake of breath as the sudden words surprised him and he turned to look at her, not even surprised to find that there was no one there… the darkness just as empty as before. And the demon must have noticed Dean’s sudden lack of attention, the song dying on its lips as it narrowed its eyes and took a step forward.

“You know it’s the truth. You can’t play ignorant forever. These powers of yours, they’re dangerous… and you’re only gonna end up hurting someone unless you let me teach you how to use the-”

The words were drowned out once again though as Becky’s voice returned, speaking to him and only him, and as the demon just continued talking, Dean realised it had no idea that Becky’s consciousness was on the loose.

“You have to wake up Dean. You know what to do and you know how… you can control this. So wake up Dean, Sam needs you.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Old yellow eyes moved the gun so that it was pointed at Sam’s shoulder, the threat evident as the demon rocked side to side, mocking and taunting Sam as if it were having the time of its life. It wouldn’t shoot to kill, only to injure and cause even more pain… Sam was sure of that, just as he was sure that if it did decide to pull the trigger, there would be nothing he could do about it. He felt his insides squirming at how helpless he felt and how damn stupid he was for falling for the demon’s tricks… And now he was in no better position and the demon’s finger was getting awfully twitchy on that trigger.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” It was Dean’s voice that rang out in the darkness and Sam wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing, being that he could even see his brother past Becky’s body… All he knew was that the words had caught the demon’s attention and that the gun was slowly being lowered as the demon turned to face Dean instead.

“And what do you plan to do to stop me?” The demon asked, its voice a vicious venom laced with a cocky bravado and also just a smidgen of doubt… “You’ve got no colt… no devil’s trap. Hell, I bet you don’t even have a Latin ritual stored up there amongst all those old classic rock songs you love so much. So tell me Dean, why should I be afraid of you?”

“I don’t care if you’re afraid of me.” Dean retorted, circling around the demon so that Sam was now in sight – it made him breath a little easier and judging by the sudden look of relief on his brother’s face, he figured Sam felt the same. “But you should be afraid of what I can do to you.”

“And what is that again Dean?” The words were followed by a scoff filled with disbelief and in reply, Dean smiled, holding out his hand – palm up as he concentrated until a tiny flame flickered into life, dancing in mid air, growing slowly in size as it fed off the oxygen in the air and the power in Dean’s veins. And the eldest Winchester didn’t miss the way the demon paled, or the way he swallowed suddenly, losing face for just a fraction of a second. “How?”

“Does that really matter?” The smile turned into a smirk and Dean could see the demon growing angry, unsure for the first time that it was in control of the situation. And Dean couldn’t help but remember that old saying that had been drummed into him as a kid – if you play with fire, you’re gonna get burnt. Or in the demons case, extra friggin’ crispy.

The plan was half cocked and stupid and he had no idea what the permanent effects would be. All he knew was that he had to move fast because the demon was scared and was getting ready to leave poor lil’ Becky behind in attempt to flee from what it knew was coming. No way could Dean let that happen. This was his chance, this was the window of opportunity and he was jumping right on through, not caring where it took him.

He rushed forward, his hand moving up to cover Becky’s mouth just as the demon tried to make its exit – but of course Dean was too quick. He couldn’t bear to watch though as the flames burned hot in his hand and the demon’s muffled cry was silenced by the intrusion of white hot pain. Closing his eyes, he drew Becky’s body closer into him, wrapping his spare arm around her waist in a tight embrace as his head fell to rest gently against the side of hers.

“I’m sorry Becky.” He whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek before the fire engulfed the pair of them, taking them both into its heated grasp, refusing to let go…

Speechless, Sam was forced to move backwards, the heat too unbearable for his body to stand. And he hated Dean for not consulting him first… for not giving him a chance to talk him out of it. He turned his head to the side, eyes half closed as he tried his hardest not to stare into the almost blinding light.

And the flames grew higher and more intense, the fire raging around the pair but leaving both of their skins and clothing untouched as if it had another purpose… And it didn’t stop until Becky fell limp in Dean’s arms, the flames dying and fading as he laid her gently on the road, still holding her tightly, his hand supporting her head. Her eyelids flickered open to reveal a dim amber and her chest heaved as she coughed, blood spilling over to stain her lips. But still she smiled, raising her hand to lightly stroke his cheek.

“Oh God, Becky… I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhh, you- you did what you had to. I knew you c-could.” Her voice was so soft and hushed that he had to strain to hear her words and he could feel his eyes already filling up with tears but he shook his head, not wanting to believe that she was dying… and he was the one who had caused it.

“There has to be a way to fix this… there has to be someth-”

“Dean… listen to me.” She cut him off. “This isn’t yo-ur fault.” Another cough wracked her body as more blood trickled out and down her paling skin, and as Sam looked a little closer he saw the remnants of tiny black specks mixed in with the red and it was only then that he began to realise what Dean had done.

“You scorched his essence.” He whispered, voicing his thoughts out loud but he didn’t expect a reply as he knelt down opposite his brother, watching Dean cling to the broken angel desperately. He knew how hard it was for Dean to do what he had done, knew how hard it had been for him to sacrifice someone else’s life… but he could also see in the angel’s eyes that she had meant to let herself be sacrificed.

“I never left you, you know.” She smiled, her fingers stopping the tracing of Dean’s cheek as her hand rested and cupped it instead, feeling a little lighter as he leaned into it, clutching her hand with his own. Her breath hitched momentarily but she forced back the sudden movement so she could finish saying what she needed to say. “I couldn’t inte-intervene but I was always there. I knew from the moment you were born that I would love you more than I was ever supposed to… I knew th-”

“Shh.” Dean uttered, mimicking her earlier sound as he shook his head, letting a stray tear fall down his cheek to seep over their hands. More threatened to spill as he watched her eyes fall closed, her head gently nodding as she did so, accepting her fate, accepting her death. “Thank you.” For everything.

But he wasn’t sure whether she’d actually heard the words, her chest suddenly falling still and hand becoming slightly heavier as any life that was left now ebbed away into nothingness. As he tried to breathe, he found it hurt so much more than he expected, almost too much. Looking up, his eyes found Sam’s and their gazes locked, both understanding silently what they had to do now.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

There was no big celebration. No quiet one either. Hell, neither of the brothers could even find the energy to sing a chorus of ‘Ding dong the demon’s dead’. Instead, they just resigned themselves to salting and burning Becky’s body, watching it in the dead of night as the world kept turning, time leaving the pair of them alone for just that short little while as they mourned for yet another life lost.

When Sam asked later what exactly had happened, Dean told him the truth. He’d explained how he’d sent the fire coursing through each and every fibre of Becky’s body, aiming it at the demon… but then that meant that Becky also got it as well. But the bigger question came later than that, Dean had expected it.

He thought about it as he lay on the motel bed, watching from the corner of his eye as Sam grabbed his jacket and the keys to the Impala. They were holed up in yet another run down place as Dean healed up, another batch of antidote running through his system and fighting against the demonic poison – only this time it was winning. And Bobby, he had headed back to South Dakota, reluctantly leaving the boys to get on with it and things were supposed to be going back to normal… but really, what was normal for them?

“You want anything?” Sam asked at the doorway and Dean shook his head in reply. Two weeks and he still had no real appetite, his mind still back on that old dusty road with the dying angel. Sam understood, which Dean was thankful for. It meant one less thing to explain and silently, the youngest Winchester slipped out and left Dean to his thoughts.

Sighing, Dean held his hand out in front of him, palm up as he studied it, thinking back to the big question… the one that both brothers really wanted an answer to. What about their mojo? What happened to that? Of course, with Sam and his visions, it was too early to tell but Sam believed that they were gone, he claimed to feel a little more ‘normal’ and Dean believed him, or maybe it was that he wanted to believe him so he just fooled himself into doing so, either way it didn’t matter.

And of course, Dean had told Sam the same thing. That he believed it was gone… that he too felt normal… but how was he supposed to know what normal was when he’d supposedly had his little gift ever since the fire? His entire life, he’d resigned himself to being labelled as a freak. He rebelled at first of course, but then he found himself sliding into the role, even moulding it to fit him more aptly… and so he lied. Tired of the label, tired of being even more of a freak than he had first imagined. And Sam believed him. Well, it wasn’t like Sam had any reason not to really.

But sitting there, watching his hand, he looked on in morbid fascination as fire caressed his fingertips, dancing across them until immediately extinguishing as he clenched his fist and brought it back down to his side. So yeah, he was a freak… but he was a freak on his terms, no one else’s.

And he was gonna keep it that way.

-.-.-