Okay, kiddies, this is the first chapter of Escape. It takes place after Devil's Trap. Okay, I know most of you might just be SICK of these kinds of "what happened next?" stories, especially since the premiere is only a mere 1 day, 2 hours and 41 minutes away (that's for here anywayz), but I started writing this a while ago. I'm not finished, and I've only just begun to rewrite parts... and...umm...

There aren't any spoilers whatsoever. If anything seems like a spoiler (if you've read them), they don't mean to be. I've never read a spoiler in my life, and I don't want to start now!

This first chapter is only the prologue, but I can have the next part up by tomorrow at the earliest, definitely before the premiere. I guess it depends on how much feedback I get...

I don't own Supernatural. If I did... Well... We all have dreams...

Okay, let's go.

-Prologue-

Sam found himself walking in an almost empty parking lot. The only thing he could see was his brother, and his brother's beloved Impala.

Dean looked angry, and said words that Sam couldn't make out. He got the feeling that it was important, but he just couldn't hear the words. It was dead silence, like a movie on mute. Dean kept saying things, the angry expression still playing across his face, and Sam could feel his lips moving as well, but he couldn't even figure out what he was saying himself. He didn't even know what he was feeling. But there was something in Dean's eyes…something that Sam just couldn't figure out…

Dean ran a hand through his hair and turned his back on Sam. His shoulders heaved, as if he were taking a deep breath. He glanced over his shoulder and his mouth moved again. And again, Sam missed what his brother had said completely. Dean opened the door to the Impala, sat in the driver's seat, and slammed the door behind him. And then, the scene abruptly contorted itself, as if some great force was ripping in apart.

Sam blinked open his eyes to find himself back at the hospital, sitting in an uncomfortable chair beside a bed. He must have fallen asleep… But that wasn't a dream he had—he knew it had to be a vision. He could tell by the way it had felt. His eyes widened as he smiled down at the hospital bed nearby. Dean lay there, in a coma—but if Sam's vision was right, Dean was going to make it. And seeing how Sam knew all his visions came true, he was suddenly a very happy brother.

He hopped out of his seat, ignoring his sore body's protests. "Keep on fighting, Dean, you'll make it." And with renewed hope, Sam trotted off to his father's room.

After the car crash, all three Winchesters were injured. Sam got off easy, but he could definitely say differently for John and Dean. The doctors had eventually said that John was going to make it, and of that, they were one hundred percent sure. But they were less confident with Dean. They told Sam not to get his hopes up, that Dean could die any day, or he wouldn't wake up from his coma. This had really depressed Sam, and he was stuck in this little rut. He could see the doctor's logic, and couldn't ignore it.

Sam finally made it to John's room—room 206. "Dad, I've got great—" He cut himself off when he spotted his father packing up anything that was his in the hospital. It wasn't much, but Sam knew what John looked like when he was about to up and leave.

John looked up. "Sam," he acknowledged.

"Where are you going, Dad?" Sam asked warily. Surely his father couldn't be leaving now, with Dean still in a coma…

"I've got to leave before the trail gets any colder than it already is," John responded, confirming Sam's fears. "I have permission to leave from the doctors, so there isn't anything to worry about. I'll be taking the Colt, as well."

"Nothing to worry about!" Sam repeated incredulously. "Dad, I don't know if you've noticed, but Dean's in a coma. Are you seriously choosing now to abandon us? What's he going to think when he wakes up and you're not there?"

John shook his head. "The doctors say he's probably not going to wake up, Sammy. Remember that."

"How would you know! You won't even stick around long enough to find out! And for your information, I know that Dean's going to wake up. I saw it!"

John frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I had a vision, Dad. I saw Dean, and he was alright!" Sam's hope came bursting up again, and it showed in his tone of voice. "And don't you dare say it was just a dream, because by now, I know the difference."

"Do you know when he's waking up?" John questioned. He still didn't know how trustworthy Sam's visions could really be. What if Sam's subconscious was just playing with his mind?

Sam paused. "I don't know. I just know he is." He made a face at his father. "Just stay here until he wakes up. You two… I mean… You need to talk to him."

John arched a brow at him. "About what?"

Sam shot him a look of disbelief. "What do you mean, about what? Didn't you hear what that demon said to him! Using your voice and your body? Didn't you see his face? You've got to talk to him! You have to make him—"

"Dean knows it was just the demon talking, and not me. I know my son, and he'd never believe anything foolish like that," John stated evenly. "He'll understand when I'm not here to see him. He knows all to well how important this is to us." And he slung his bag over his shoulder, walked past Sam and down the hall.

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Dad!" he called, striding after his father.

John completely ignored him, and pushed through the hospital doors and finally made it outside. He needed to get the wrecked Impala to receive the Colt, and then he could be on his way. But before he made it any further, Sam's hand clapped down on his shoulder. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at his youngest.

"Dad, you just can't leave like this." Sam's voice was pleading.

"Do me a favor, Sam. When your brother wakes up, tell him that I said that I had to go after this thing. I don't need him right now, and I'll talk to him later." Once the words had left his mouth, John knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Sam's hand fell from his father's shoulder as he froze. "You can't honestly expect me to say that to him."

John was silent for a minute, and then kept walking. This time, Sam couldn't follow.

The day that Dean finally opened his eyes a few months later was the happiest day of Sam's life. His brother was reluctant about speaking for a long time, but Sam was still ecstatic. He was full of smiles and was practically bouncing off the walls twenty-four seven.

Dean didn't seem to take too much notice to this. He looked as if he were trapped in his own little world. But when he did notice, he'd give Sam a small smile that would last a second or two.

When Dead did start talking again, the first thing he asked was, "Where's Dad?"

Sam frowned deeply, knowing that the question was bound to come eventually. He wasn't very well prepared…

Dean mistook Sam's silence and grew panicked. "Where's Dad, Sam? Where is he? God, don't tell me he's…he's—"

Sam shook his head. "No, no, he's not. He…he left, Dean. He left three months ago."

Dean fell silent and looked down. "He left," he repeated. "Oh." He paused for a long time before asking, "Did he…? I mean, he didn't say why?"

"Uh…he did tell me to tell you…" Sam stopped, remembering his father's exact words… Words that he never wanted to repeat to Dean…

"What?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing."

Dean glared. "If Dad wanted you to tell me something, then say it, damn it! I won't take no for an answer, and I'll sure as hell know if you're lying or not!"

Sam gulped. "He—he said that… He had to go after the demon… That…he…he…he…"

"What?" Dean demanded. "What?"

"He said he didn't…need you right now and that'd he'd talk to you later."

"They don't need you! Not like you need them."

Dean cringed as his memory yelled the words out.

"Dean, I tried to make him stay. But I know he'd tell you that what the demon said when it was possessing Dad—it wasn't true. None of it was."

If that were true, then why did you just tell me that Dad—not the demon that possessed him, but actually Dad himself—said that he didn't need me? Dean thought to himself. He inwardly sighed, and nodded in acknowledgement. "I know."

Sam wasn't sure if this was a lie, or if he was just imagining it sounding like a lie. All he knew was Dean was going to be okay. He smiled, thankful for that one fact. "Okay. I'm going to go get some coffee, okay?" He waited until Dean nodded again before going out in the hall.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, his hand resting on his chest. The wounds that the demon had given him had healed a little, but the wounds that lay so much deeper remained open and flaring. And to add to that, his heart felt like a deadweight. It felt so heavy… It was a strange feeling, but it was familiar. He almost wished he could still be in a coma, so he didn't have to think about all this. All that ever went through his mind was what the demon had said, and how much it had made sense.

Dean had told himself over and over that what the demon had said was just a big, fat, ugly lie. But what he really felt, deep down, was that it was actually the ugly truth. He didn't dare ask Sam about it, and he was much too afraid to ask his father. Because he knew that if he did ask Sam, he'd just lie. But his father, who gave everything out straight out, no matter how much it hurt, might…just might say…

Dean shook his head. I can't…I can't think like that…I can't… He let out a choppy breath as he tried to calm himself down.

Being told he wasn't needed was something Dean wasn't ready for. Hell, he would never be ready for it. He knew he had thought about it a few times before. Even back then it had made so much sense. Too much sense. But he always hid the thought, deep down, underneath everything.

"Earth to Dean!"

Dean looked up to see his brother, cup of coffee in hand. His hand fell from his chest and he ignored Sam's questioning face.

"You okay there?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm only waiting to get out of this dump so we can go back to hunting."

-End Prologue-

That's gotta be the longest prologue I've ever written... Jeeeeez...

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Until next time