My first ever Supernatural fan fiction! I'm not sure if I should keep going or not. I may write another fan fiction for Supernatural. I hope you all will like it.
Enjoy.
Raging On
"Sammy, come here." I told my little six year old brother who was curled up into a little ball. There was no response from him. "Sammy, you'll be okay. Come sit next to me."
There was life showing as the bed sheets animated and little Sammy's head popped up. It's not unheard of to have little kids hide when a storm approaches, but when it comes to hunting Sam isn't as afraid. Not only storms but clowns as well. Sam untangled himself from the sheets and slowly waddled towards me. He kept stumbling around in the dead darkness of the room. Lightning flashed every now and then brightening up the room just long enough for him to take advantage of it and dart closer to me before all went dark again. This went on for a few minutes until he finally reached me.
When Sam sat on my bed he was quivering. His long brown hair, already messy, kept getting into his eyes. I wrapped an arm around my little brother. I can't blame the kid though. I used to fear storms too but for a different purpose. Most kids hate storms because of the loud thunder, the strong winds that threaten to destroy everything, and/or the things that can spawn from thunderstorms. I, however, feared them because they brought back old memories. It wasn't the thunder, the wind, or what could happen, it was the lightning. The lightning always had the power to make me cringe. Every time it flashed it brought back the memories of the raging fires in the old house. The night mom died.
"Dean, where's dad?" Sammy asked trying to make conversation.
"He went to a friend's house to pick something up." I explained rubbing the top of his head gently.
"What is he getting?" Sammy, the boy with a thousand questions.
"I don't know, Sammy." I replied. I began to lie down but Sam stopped me. He was looking away but I could feel how tense his body was. "What is it, Sammy?"
"I can't sleep." He muttered.
"You haven't even tried to yet." I teased giving him half of a smile.
"Yes I have but I can't." Sammy pouted looking back at me.
I sighed and sat up all the way. Grabbing Sammy, I pulled him close to me.
"Sammy, I'm going to sing you a song that will help you fall asleep." I said softly as I begun to rock back and forth slowly with him in my arms.
"Is it the song that mom always sung?" He asked me as his eyes lit up.
"No, Sammy, it's not that song." I answered.
"But, Dean, I thought mom used to sing Let It Be? At least, that's what you told me." Sammy said looking at me with big confused eyes.
"She did, Sammy, but the song I'm singing is my own lullaby that I'll sing to you from now on if you ever get scared." I told him softly. I looked away from him and just stared absent mindedly out the window. The outside was pitch black and was raising a riot. I found melodies from the sounds and used that as my instruments. I slowly opened my mouth, taking in a deep breath, and began to sing.
"Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more. Once I rose above the noise and confusion. Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion. I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high. Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man. Though my mind could think I still was a mad man. I hear the voices when I'm dreaming. I can hear them say, Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more."
I looked down at Sammy who was peacefully asleep on my lap. I slowly brushed away his bangs from his face and put him on the other side of the bed. After I sang the last word I felt drowsy and began to drift off to sleep. But before I completely left consciousness, I felt a presence right next to me. It wasn't Sammy's either. The presence felt almost familiar to me. I was filled with calmness, strength, sadness, and love. I couldn't place this feeling anywhere before falling asleep.
Somewhere in the distance, there was a voice calling out. The storm outside muffled most of it out, but you could hear the tune of Let It Be by The Beatles being hummed.
