Don't You Cry No More 2

Chapter One

Dean woke to the sounds of the baby monitor going off. He looked up at the clock next to his bed. It was eleven o'clock at night. The baby monitor next to the clock was blaring at him, a combination of cries and static. Dean turned over to see that Sam wasn't in his bed.

Well, if Sam is taking care of her, why is she crying?

Grumbling, Dean climbed out of bed. He made his way down the hall towards his daughter's room. He stood in the doorway, spotting Sam standing over the crib.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, eyes half closed with lingering sleep. "Is she hungry?"

"Shh," said Sam softly.

"Okay," said Dean, turning and heading back towards their room.

When he got to the doorway, he noticed a light at the staircase flickering. Frowning, he headed over to it and tapped on it a few times before it stopped. That's when he noticed a flickering light coming up the stairs. He cautiously made his way down the stairs to find someone asleep on the sofa, watching a Discovery Channel documentary on space exploration. But it wasn't Bobby on the sofa…it was Sam.

Dean immediately bolted back up the stairs. "Angel!" He rushed down the hall towards the nursery. "Angel!"

He burst into the nursery, slamming to a stop. The man at the nursery spun around, showing Dean his yellow eyes.

"It's you," said Dean, horror sweeping through him.

He glanced down to the bleeding wrist Yellow-Eyes held over the crib, dripping demon blood into his daughter's mouth.

No…not my little girl…

Dean's face twisted in rage as he charged for the demon. He was suddenly slammed into the nursery wall. He began inching up the wall, stopping on the ceiling above Angel's crib. He felt his stomach slice open, blood dripping down onto the crib blankets. Dean yelled in pain as the demon vanished. The nursery door burst open.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he looked down at Angel, spotting the blood.

"Sammy…" Dean managed to get out before the flames erupted from under him. He watched as Sam glanced up at him in horror, wincing as the flames boiled his skin. The flames spread across the ceiling, engulfing him alive.

"NO!"

Dean shot bolt upright in his bed in a cold sweat, shaking. He could feel the fear trembling throughout his body, shaking him to his core.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked as he sat up in the other bed.

Dean looked over at him with wide eyes. He was sure he looked like a wreck: pale, trembling and sweaty. He raised a shaky hand and ran it down his face. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Bull," said Sm. "It was that dream again, wasn't it?" Dean stared at the sheets on his bed, carefully avoiding Sam's gaze. Sam pulled his own sheets away from himself and swung his legs off the bed, facing Dean. "Dean, you have to talk about this."

"No," said Dean. He couldn't tell his brother. If he did that, that would make it more real.

"Dean, your nightmares are getting worse by the night," Sam pleaded. "Please tell me about them." Dean vigorously shook his head, his eyes closed. "Dean…" Sam got up and sat next to his big brother. "I can help. You don't have to do this alone."

Dean looked up at Sam, who had a very worried expression on his face. Dean gazed back down at the sheets.

How can you help? You can't understand how I feel right now. No one can. I already couldn't save you from this nightmare; I couldn't save Mom. I want to save my daughter…

So tell him… a voice nudged the back of Dean's mind, the voice of the innocent four-year-old he'd once been.

"Today is December 15th," Dean began, still staring at his legs. "You know what that makes tomorrow?"

Sam frowned in confusion. "Angel's six-month birthday." Dean looked up at his brother, tears in his eyes. Sam's eyes widened as he cocked his head to the side, the truth of the situation dawning on him. "Oh, my gosh. That's what you've been dreaming about."

Dean nodded, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I see the Yellow-Eyed Demon standing over her crib, bleeding into her mouth, just before he pins me to the ceiling and burns me alive…just like he did to you…like he did to Mom." He couldn't fight it anymore, and the tears burst down his cheeks. He put his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body.

Sam put an arm around Dean's shoulder. "Hey, that is never going to happen. He's dead, remember? You killed him yourself."

"I know, I know," sobbed Dean. "It's just…with tomorrow coming—"

"It's perfectly normal to be scared. But tomorrow will come and go, and you'll see that all your worrying was for nothing. I promised you that Angel would live a good life, and I'm keeping that promise."

Dean smiled, the tears letting up. "Thanks."

"Any time," Sam said as he went back to his own bed. After a few minutes, they both fell into a relatively restful sleep.

Dean woke up, heading into Angel's nursery to find her wide awake. He picked her up, putting a hand to her backside.

"Whew!" said Dean. "Someone needs a change."

He laid his daughter on the changing table, fishing a clean diaper from the basket. He snapped open the buttons on her outfit, pulling open the diaper.

"Holy crap!" muttered Dean as he ducked his head from the smell. Angel gave a little giggle at her father. "Oh, you think this is funny, do you?"

Dean pulled a wipe from the box, cleaning his daughter off. When he was satisfied, he situated a clean diaper around her waist. He refastened her outfit and pulled her into his arms. Walking down the hall to the kitchen, he found Sam at the stove, making pancakes.

"Hey," said Sam as Dean sat at the table. "Feel better?"

"A little," answered Dean as he bounced his little girl lightly on his knee.

Sam had a radio station on with the morning news, and the report was catching Dean's attention.

"Police don't suspect an abandoned convent to be a target for terrorist activity—"

"What is this world coming to?" muttered Dean, shaking his head. "What kind of terrorists bomb an abandoned convent?"

"Not sure," said Sam, switching the radio off and bringing a plate of pancakes to the table.

Dean walked to the fridge and pulled a bottle of formula out, setting it in the boiling pot of water Sam had started. Within three minutes, the bottle was warm, and Dean took it out, squirting a little on his palm to make sure it wasn't too hot. He put the bottle to Angel's mouth, waiting until she wrapped her tiny mouth around it and began drinking.

"Bobby called," said Sam as Dean sat down at the table. "He finished his hunt and he'll be back tomorrow."

"Good," said Dean as he began eating one-handed.

"She still got that rash?" Sam asked as he dug in himself.

"No, antibiotic cream cleared it right up," said Dean. "Doctor said it was just diaper rash."

"Well, that's good," said Sam. He looked up at Dean and jumped, dropping his fork. Dean spun around to see Castiel in the doorway behind him.

"Cas, what are you doing here?" asked Dean.

Castiel frowned at him. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" asked Sam.

"St. Mary's," Castiel told him. "Ilchester, Maryland."

Dean frowned. "The convent that was bombed?"

"It wasn't terrorists," Castiel stated.

"What?" asked Dean.

"It was demons," Castiel told them. "They set Lucifer free."