Sam slowly opened his blue-green eyes to find similar ones staring right back at him. In fact, a few centimetres from his own. Letting out a yelp, the young man sat up with a start.
"Dean?!" he blurted out. Finding the set of eyes belonging to a little girl, couldn't be older than three or four, Sam had to grab her before she fell. She didn't seem hurt, thank God, and instead let out an overexcited squeal, but where did she come from? She looked a little familiar, her eyes were scarily similar to his, for a start. But those blonde curls, that smile, so similar to…
"Poppy Rose Winchester," a familiar voice laughed softly from beside him, "Let Daddy get some sleep. Your little brother's been keeping him up all night."
"Jess?" Sam whispered, looking toward the voice. The word "Daddy" hadn't quite struck him yet. There she was, hair splayed out behind her as she lay facing him. She looked exhausted, ready to fall right asleep again any second. But she was there, she was alive. He must be dreaming.
"Good morning," Jessica sat up, leaning and kissing him softly. Automatically, Sam leaned closer into the kiss, arm around her waist, taking in her warmth. It had been over a year and he'd longed for this, dream or not. At least his mind was seemingly being kind to him this year. Makes a change from the recurrent nightmares of her fiery death.
The little girl, Poppy, Sam guessed, crawled to Jess and nestled into her. She grinned at Sam.
"Jess…where's Dean?" that was the most important question. Once that was out the way he'd ask how she was alive, where the kid came from. In that order.
"Why Daddy askin' 'bout Unka Dean, Mommy?" Poppy looked up at Jess curiously. Sam's stomach dropped. Daddy, Mommy. He hadn't quite made the connection until those words He'd never had a dream about having a child before. He wasn't sure if he even still wanted kids.
"I don't know, baby," Jess sighed quietly, looking at Sam with a sympathetic smile, "You dreamed about him again didn't you?"
She rested her hand on his, "It's alright. It takes a while to adjust."
"Adjust to…to what?" the young man curled his fingers around hers a little nervously.
"Losing your brother, Sam. You were close, it's going to take getting used to, and that's okay," Jess smiled softly, planting a kiss on his cheek, "We're all here for you. Right, princess?"
"Yeah. Me 'n' Mommy 'n' baby Oliver here for you, Daddy," Poppy went over and hugged Sam, resting her head on his shoulder. The youngest Winchester sat awkwardly, but slowly reached and patted her back a few times. Both Poppy and Jess giggled, then Jess got herself out of bed and went to the corner of the room, where a wooden crib stood.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered softly, lifting a bundle of blankets into her arms and bringing it to the bed. Nestled inside was a baby, Oliver, presumably, only a few days old at most, in a blue onesie, "Shall we let Daddy feed you this morning?"
Oliver was placed in Sam's arms without warning, and the young man struggled to get a safe hold on him. The last thing he wanted was to drop his son. His son. He couldn't quite process that he was a father, even if he were dreaming. Jessica disappeared downstairs for a few minutes, and meanwhile Poppy sat on Sam's knee to see the baby.
"Can I hold baby Oliver please Daddy?" she smiled cutely, resting her head on his chest, "Please!"
"Erm…maybe...maybe later, P-Poppy," Sam stuttered, just focusing on holding the baby safely. And then he got confused. It felt too real. Oliver's weight and warmth in his arms was too vivid and strong a sensation to be simply created from his mind. He'd had vivid dreams before, Jessica's death, for example, but this didn't compare. Even in those visions, he hadn't felt the heat of the fire, the drops of blood hitting his face didn't feel like liquid. It had still been dream like. Was this reality? And if so, what the hell had happened?
"Here we are," Jess said in a sing-song voice, handing Sam a baby bottle and sitting back on the bed. She pulled Poppy onto her knee and held her close. Sam nervously, cautiously, held the bottle towards Oliver's mouth. He was pretty sure he'd never held a baby in his life, let alone fed one. Jess smiled to herself and leaned forwards, helping him out so Oliver could start to feed.
"Guess it was a little while since you had to feed Poppy like that," she murmured, and Sam nodded awkwardly.
"Can Daddy take me to the park, Mommy?" Poppy chirped, and the youngest Winchester brother briefly broke his gaze watching Oliver feed to look up at her.
"If Daddy's not too tired," Jess smiled, looking expectantly at her husband. Sam nodded and shrugged.
"Erm…sure, the park," he said, putting the empty bottle aside and stroking Oliver's back. Jessica took the baby back and winded him.
"And baby brother too? Can Oliver come?" Poppy squealed excitedly.
"Not today, Pops. He's only little, he can stay home with Mommy, alright? You go have fun with Daddy," Jess said softly, kissing her hair and gently rocking Oliver to sooth him to sleep. She yawned and glanced briefly at Sam, "Mommy needs some sleep before your grandpa comes to visit."
"Grandpa!" Poppy squealed, "And Unka Dean?"
Sam and Jess sighed in unison, but Jess spoke, "No, baby. You know Unka Dean's gone away."
"But he come back!"
"Not for a long time, Poppy," Jess looked at Sam sadly.
Jess went to go get Poppy dressed, leaving Sam to get dressed himself. He looked at himself in the mirror for the first time since waking up in this strange reality. Strange, but he was beginning to like it. Besides the lack of his brother.
Sam was a little taken aback at the reflection. His hair, far longer than when he'd gone to sleep, was in a far more mature style than his boyish haircut. Small flecks of grey patterned his hair throughout, making the young man grimace. He looked older too, a little thinner in the face, more stubble, a little less muscle. How much time had passed?
January 26th, 2014. Almost eight years since he went to sleep. That made him thirty as opposed to twenty-three. What was going on? He grabbed his phone, searching through his contacts.
"Hey, Sam. Congrats on the-" Bobby's gruff voice relieved him greatly.
"Bobby, you're not gonna believe this," Sam began, "I swear, I went to bed last night in a motel in, what, Illinois? With Dean. And I've woken up…I don't know where, actually. But Jess is alive, we're married, we have two kids. And Dean's dead. I-"
"Uh, Sam?" Bobby interrupted, "Are you feelin' alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine…I feel great, actually. Just confused," Sam frowned, "Why?"
"You've been married to Jessica almost six years now…and Dean died months ago," Bobby's voice was serious, "I told ya not to stop that therapy."
"What? How? H-how is he dead? I saw him just last night!" Sam's voice was desperate, "It was 2006!"
"Sam," Bobby sighed, "You haven't coped with Dean's death too well. I know. We weren't expecting it. Just be lucky he hadn't been drivin' Poppy around while drunk."
"He…" Sam mumbled to himself. Dean would never drink and drive. Well, never more than a beer. What could have happened to make him do that? He didn't want to raise more suspicion by asking.
"You gotta move on, son. Dean wouldn't want to see ya like this. Yer got two kids now. Focus on 'em. It's what he woulda wanted. He loved Poppy," Bobby took a pause, "Keep makin' yer big brother proud, ya hear?"
"Yes, sir," Sam said quietly, disconnecting the call and putting his phone down. He looked at himself in the mirror again, furiously wiping away tears and getting dressed, putting on a brave face for Jess regardless.
Dean parked up the Impala outside the motel, walking to his and Sam's room with beer and pie in tow. His brother had been working tirelessly researching this case as best he could. A girl had gone missing without warning, and anyone helping to find her, cops or agents involved in her search, also went missing. The total stood at a large portion of the girl's family and friends, and at least five cops and FBI agents. Sam had spent the night researching any possible leads, and had gone out to investigate further with the cops during the day. Dean, also in FBI garb, had accompanied his brother to station, but then split off to check the girl's family home.
He hadn't heard from Sam in a few hours. Dean wouldn't be surprised if he found him asleep on his laptop. That kid overworked himself sometimes. How he would have survived Stanford, Dean didn't know.
"Heya, Sammy," Dean called as he unlocked the door and let himself in. Silence. The eldest Winchester rolled his eyes. Must be asleep.
"Sam?" Dean's smirk turned into a frown as he entered the room properly. The room was eerily tidy. Sam wasn't exactly untidy, but there'd at least be evidence of his presence. His suit jacket thrown over the armchair, his laptop open on the table or charging in the corner. The bathroom was open and the light was off. No note explaining his whereabouts. Sam had never come back.
Sam's phone went straight to voicemail, no matter how many times Dean tried. He cursed under his breath. Turning sharply on his heel, Dean walked straight back out of the room, slamming the door behind him and getting into the Impala.
Jess and Oliver stayed home while Sam took Poppy out to the park. Luckily it was just a few blocks away, not a long walk. He really didn't want to be calling Jess for directions.
Sam was growing to enjoy spending time with his daughter. She was a sweet kid, and adored him unconditionally. After an hour or two involving Sam pushing Poppy on the swing and watching her run around and let off steam, the pair went for ice cream. The younger Winchester brother's eyes widened at the genuine credit card in his wallet, but paid in cash all the same. He sat with the little girl on a bench near the playground.
"Daddy," Poppy said quietly, "Do you miss Unka Dean?"
"Of course I do," Sam replied, "What…what do you remember about him?"
"Unka Dean give me pie!" Poppy giggled, "And Unka Dean play with me. Said I'm the prettiest princess!"
The young man couldn't help but smile. That sounded like his brother, alright. He'd always hinted about wanting to be an uncle.
"Unka Dean is a angel in heaven. Mommy said," the little girl wriggled onto Sam's knee, finishing her ice cream before hugging him tight. After a moment's hesitation, Sam wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close.
"Love you, Daddy," Poppy whispered, reaching and kissing her father on the cheek. Sam froze for a second before reacting.
"I love you too."
"Whadd'ya mean he's missin'? Ya sure he's not at the library or something?" Bobby's voice was gruff, "Y'know what that kid's like."
"He would've told me," Dean snapped, "I swear, Bobby. He's been taken like the other Feds, I know it."
"Alright, alright. Cool it. Yer gonna get nowhere in that state. Did ya have any idea what was takin' 'em?"
Dean sighed and leaned against the Impala, "Nothing. Sam's stuff was gone too, not even like I could hack his laptop."
"I'll let yer know if I come up with anythin'," Bobby stood up to consult his bookshelf, "Watch yourself, boy."
"Thanks, Bobby," Dean ran a hand through his short hair and got into his car. May as well report Sam as one of the missing.
With the children in bed, Jess and Sam had some time to themselves. Jessica curled up beside Sam on the couch, head rested on his shoulder.
"Your Dad called," she said softly, "He'll be here around two tomorrow. I said he can stay the night."
"Dad?" Sam looked at her with a frown, "My Dad?"
"Yeah, Sam," Jess smiled a little, "He said he'd come visit to meet Oliver, remember?"
"Right, yeah," Sam nodded, "Sorry."
Her smile turned into a concerned frown, "Are you alright?"
"What, me? Yeah, of course," the younger Winchester brother leaned to kiss her softly.
"Bobby called me. He was worried. You were telling him strange things," Jessica nestled closer to her husband, her hand on his chest, "That you saw Dean yesterday? You were in Illinois last night?"
"Oh, that," Sam sighed, "Weird dream…about Dean. Guess it just confused me."
"Promise?" Jess looked up at him, eyes serious, "If this gets worse, you'll tell me?"
"I promise, baby," the ex-hunter smiled softly, "Just…" he sighed, "A blip, I guess."
"And that's alright. I can't imagine what you went through. You and your brother were so close. But Oliver, this new place, it's a new start. For all of us."
Sam nodded silently, gently pulling his wife onto his knee and holding her close. They stayed like that for a little while, for so long that Jess fell asleep on him. Sam still didn't move, too lost in thought and not wanting to wake her. He still didn't understand what had happened, and it almost seemed as if he'd never know. Anyone he asked would treat him like he's insane, clearly he hadn't coped with losing Dean, to the extent he'd sought professional help. Claiming his brother was alive was only going to make Jess more worried, and more likely to get him back with a shrink.
He just wanted answers. He'd got what he'd always dreamed of while at Stanford – marrying Jess, having children, getting a good job. It was his one true fantasy, the one thing he'd wanted for so long.
And that was when he realised.
Dean's chest clenched as Sam's belongings were handed to him, laptop, cell phone, everything. After persuasion from Dean's superior on the phone, he was allowed to take Sam's belongings due to their potential importance in the investigation.
Flipping open the computer back at the motel, and thankfully knowing Sam's password, a web page immediately jumped up.
"Djinn?" Dean frowned. He'd heard of them, but he wasn't sure he'd ever faced one before.
After reading up on the lore, Dean dug through Sam's duffle for any further clues, and pulled out a folded map of the town. Sam's scrawled handwriting covered almost the whole thing.
"Prefers ruins"
"Plenty of hiding spots"
"May be more than one"
Several buildings on the map were circled, all crossed out bar one. That must be the place.
Sam remembered it all now. The hunt for the djinn, the research, him visiting possible lairs. He shuddered lightly at the memory of being ambushed by several djinn. An adult and two teens, he was pretty sure. He couldn't fight them off, they'd disarmed him the moment they'd grabbed him. None of this was real. His children, his wife, John being alive. Tears pricked his eyes. He'd hoped, just hoped it was all true, he had a family of his own, a wife, a job, everything he'd wanted. But the lack of Dean wasn't what he'd wanted. He'd been annoyed at his brother for dragging him out of Stanford all that time ago, angry, in fact. But he didn't want Dean gone. He wanted him to check in on him, as he presumed he had done before he passed. Sam questioned how such a "fantasy" could have such a major drawback.
Dean got back into his beloved car and briefly glanced at the map now and then in order to find the building. He could only hope Sam was there, and he hoped even more that he was alright. Perhaps he'd fought the djinn off and killed it, then gone to take the victims home? But then why was his bag found? He'd never leave his laptop alone.
Sam didn't know where he was. Nausea washed over him and dizziness plagued at his focus. His eyelids felt as if they were being weighed down by rocks as he forced his eyes open. Stars danced in his vision, but he realised he was leaning dangerously forwards. How was he not falling over? The digging sensation in his wrists answered that. Old rope. The place was freezing and damp, and the young man could feel himself shivering violently in response.
"Jess," he mumbled weakly, his voice a mere croak, "Jess…"
"Shh," a soft female voice whispered, "Shh, now, sweetheart."
It certainly wasn't Jess, but Sam began to relax as a hand touched his cheek softly. The hunter closed his eyes again and drifted to sleep once more.
Armed with a knife dipped in lamb's blood, Dean made his way into the huge abandoned warehouse on the edge of town.
"Please be in here, Sammy," he muttered to himself. The place was eerily quiet, no signs of life or movement. This didn't change the further he got into the building. Dean approached a stairwell in the corner of the building, taking every step cautiously and wincing at every creak it made. He'd rather not face a damn genie at the top.
A putrid stench of rotting flesh greeted Dean, causing him to gag. He was used to that smell, of course, but he still didn't appreciate it practically hitting him in the face. As soon as he reached the top step, he found the source.
Several corpses were lined up near the stairwell, in different stages of decomposition. The hunter looked away in disgust.
Dean could sense he was being watched as he passed by the bodies. Quiet mumbles and soft hushes grew louder as he made his way into the large room. And there they were.
Dotted around the room was everyone reported missing, everyone besides the few rotting by the stairs. Tied up by their hands to metal frames above their heads, an iv line draining their blood into bags. Dean slipped behind a pillar upon spotting a djinn, a female with dark brown hair, soothing one of the victims. He was beginning to stir, it seemed, mumbling almost incoherently. The hunter peered out from his hiding spot, rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath. There were at least five of the suckers, all checking on their prey and shutting them up if they made a sound. Sam's research suggested they were pretty much loners, and these guys were having a family dinner?! He'd need back up for sure.
Dean looked back at the dark haired djinn. She tenderly laid her hand on the victim's cheek…the victim with dark brown, long hair in a boyish cut, dressed in a fed suit.
"Sammy," the eldest Winchester brother shook his head, turning to creep back out of the place without being seen, until he was unexpectedly slammed against the pillar. Seemed his presence hadn't gone unnoticed.
Sam woke up to Oliver's crying, and before Jess could even think about getting up, Sam was out of bed in an instant. He lifted him up, awkwardly but slowly and safely, softly hushing him and rocking him in an attempt to calm him down. The baby quietened and nestled into his father's warmth, and Sam kissed his forehead softly, a few tears building in his eyes. Knowing none of this was real was painful, and he was desperate to make the most of it regardless. This was going to end sometime, either with him dying or with Dean getting him out of this. He had to savour the moments he had.
John arrived later that day, when Poppy had persuaded Sam to play princess with her. He'd been subjected to wearing a tiara and pretending to drink cups of tea. Sam couldn't help but think of how much Dean would be laughing at him at that moment, but at the same time he was enjoying himself. Poppy was such a sweet kid, she'd perfected the art of his puppy eyes well and so he was getting a taste of his own medicine for once. Jess was watching them with Oliver asleep in her arms.
"Grandpa!" Poppy had squealed as soon as the doorbell rang. Sam got up to answer, the little girl skipping ahead of him and opening up the door.
"Hey, Poppy," John smiled, lifting her up into his arms. He turned his attention to his son, "Sam."
Without another word, Sam grabbed his father into a close hug, being mindful of Poppy. John gasped a little but chuckled, slapping Sam on the back gently, "Good to see you too, son."
Sam pulled away, hoping his tears weren't obvious. Poppy giggled and tugged at John's shirt collar, "Come see my baby brother, Grandpa!"
"I bet you've been taking good care of him, right?" John tickled Poppy's cheek gently.
"Course I have! I held him at the hospital when he was born!" the little girl said proudly.
"John," Jess smiled from the doorway to the living room, gently rocking Oliver to settle him.
"How are you, Jess?" John smiled warmly and made his way into the living room. He smiled upon sight of his newborn grandson, "He looks just like his old man when he was born."
Sam watched from a short distance. He'd never pictured his Dad so supportive. But that's what he'd wanted. He'd wanted, but hadn't expected, his father to congratulate him on getting into Stanford, to encourage him and support him every step of the way. It was nice to see that side of John he'd never seen before, fiction or not.
"Tired, but I'm alright," Jess leaned on Sam lightly as he made his way to stand beside her, "I've been in good hands."
"I expect no less of my son," John said proudly, nodding to Sam respectfully. Jess sat down again with Oliver nestled in her arms, while Sam went to make coffee for her and John. Along with juice for Poppy, of course. He returned to find Jess discussing Oliver's birth. Her and Sam had decided on a home birth, apparently, and Oliver was far easier than Poppy. Poppy didn't understand but had pouted at that. Sam gave out the drinks and sat beside his wife, a little baffled. Birth plans, parenthood, still so alien to Sam yet he was learning, adapting. He didn't want to think about real life carrying on once he was out of this dreamland.
Dean's fist slammed into the djinn's face, causing it to let out a yell. The other djinn stopped in their tracks, some ran to hide, but two of them went straight for the attack. Dean cursed under his breath and managed to kick the djinn to the floor, pelting past the corpses and out of the building with a lucky escape. They didn't follow him past the exit
"Bobby, it's djinn," Dean's breaths were short as he drove back to the motel, phone to his ear.
"Genies?"
"Yes, genies, a crap load of 'em! Got some kind of human buffet goin' on. They got Sam, drugged him up or somethin'."
Bobby let out a slow sigh, "That'd be the venom."
"Venom? Genies have freakin' venom?!" Dean parked up the Impala and got into his motel.
"If they got Sam, then Sam's been pumped full o' their venom, he'll be livin' in dreamland where his biggest desires are comin' true. While they feed on his blood," Bobby's voice was grave. Didn't take an expert to guess what Sam might want. They were gonna have one miserable kid when he got out of that.
"So, what, Sam's livin' it up in Stanford, with Jess? That what you're sayin'?" Dean sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair, "Will he know? That it's not real?"
"It'll certainly feel real. But he's smart. He'll figure it out."
"I'm gonna need back up to get him outta there, Bobby. Almost got jumped by three of 'em. Rather not end up tied up and wandering around my deepest desires," Dean muttered, but it did make him think. How different would his life be if Mary were alive? He was pretty certain that was his biggest wish. If she'd lived, they could grow up normal, happy. Not have to deal with John's drunken rages or harsh orders. They could have been a family.
The hunter shook the idea out of his mind. It's not going to happen, it's never going to happen. Mary was dead and gone, she was never coming back. Nothing could change the past.
"I'm on my way," Bobby broke Dean from his thoughts, "You stay put."
"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled, just hoping that Sam wouldn't have become one of the rotting corpses by the time he and Bobby went to get him.
Sam was expected to make dinner for John, Jess and Poppy, and he found himself stood in the kitchen with no clue what he was doing. He should have seen that coming. Jess was still pretty tired, and of course John wasn't going to cook. But he'd been raised on diner food and crap like spaghetti-Os and microwave meals. He'd cooked a little at Stanford, but had resorted to diners a lot of the time. Sam barely knew how to cook and it was embarrassing, but he couldn't exactly go announce that. Instead his trusty laptop found him the answers.
The plates of lasagne were placed on the dining room table as Sam prayed the stuff was edible. He also hoped he hadn't given Poppy too much or too little. How was he meant to know child portions?
"Looks great, son," John said proudly as Sam sat at the table. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a proper family meal like this. Well, technically they were never with his family. All that was missing was Dean, tucking into his food and most likely making some kind of joking criticism about his brother's cooking. How was this a fantasy if he didn't have his brother by his side?
Dean paced back and forth impatiently while he waited for Bobby to turn up. Every second that passed was a second closer to Sam's death, and he couldn't risk that. How could he be expected to sit tight and wait while his little brother was dying, alone but so unaware.
After another few hours, the grisled hunter finally showed up, and without another word Dean climbed into his truck, directing him to the building.
While Jessica went to bathe Poppy and put Oliver to bed, John sat with his son at the dining table. His expression was that of concern, his brow furrowed.
"Are you alright, Sam?" hearing his father's voice was bringing a lump to Sam's throat.
"Yeah, Dad," his voice shook as a result, "I'm okay."
"You seem different, son," John put a hand on his shoulder, "You should be celebrating. You're a Dad again. But you're distant."
The older hunter let out a sigh, "You're thinking of Dean, aren't you?"
"Dad, I…"
"I get it, Sam. I do. You and your brother, he doted on you. He doted on Poppy too. But he's gone. He was the idiot who went for a drive after drinking too much and got himself killed. And you gotta move on. For Jess, for your kids. Don't let yourself go back to how you were. Don't put yourself in the hospital again. Please. You got your head straight, promised Jess you'd be better when the baby arrived. Don't lose it again," John's grip on Sam's shoulder tightened, "Buck up, kid. Ya hear?"
"It's not real, Dad," Sam couldn't hold it in anymore, "None of this is real. You're dead, Jess is dead. Dean's alive. We're still hunting. This is just a dream!"
"Stop it," John snapped, "You're not well, Sam! You need help. More help."
"It's not real!" Sam stood up, "You're not real!"
Dean and Bobby made their way into the building, both wretching at the stench that greeted them. It didn't take long. They were waiting.
Two djinn were waiting at the stairwell and launched themselves at the hunters. Dean tumbled to the floor, but Bobby managed to stand his ground. The blood covered knife clattered from Dean's hand, and he resisted the tattooed hand of the creature with all his strength, waiting for the moment he could throw the significantly smaller man from him.
The djinn collapsed onto Dean revealing Bobby behind him pulling out the knife. The other djinn lay in a heap close by.
"Someone not eat their spinach today?" Bobby raised an eyebrow condescendingly, chuckling as the younger hunter scrambled to his feet, retrieving his own knife and brushing himself down.
"C'mon," he said briskly, making his way upstairs with Bobby following.
Only one other djinn was in sight, the dark haired female he'd seen before, and she was with Sam once again. Soothing and hushing him, stroking his cheek softly before picking up the blood bag and drinking the contents. Sam didn't even stir.
As Dean took a step forward she turned around, a menacing smirk spreading across her lips. Her tattoos spread down her arm and to her hand rested on the younger Winchester's face. Sam groaned and moved his head slightly but didn't wake.
"No!" Dean yelled, unable to stop himself. He ran forward, only to be bowled over by another.
"Go ahead," the female djinn laughed as Dean attempted to wrestle his attacker to the ground, "Kill us all…good luck getting little Sammy here outta this mess."
Dean pressed all his weight down on the djinn, holding him down before stabbing him in the heart with the knife. The creature's eyes glowed blue before fading and going lifeless. Bobby floored another meanwhile. As far as Dean could see, she was the only one left.
Desperate for his brother's welfare, Dean grabbed the djinn by the hair and stabbed her several times in rage, shoving her to the floor. He began to untie Sam's hands.
"Wait, Dean. There might still be more of 'em," Bobby's voice was hushed, briefly looking around at the victims, "How the hell are we gonna explain this one?"
After a thorough search of the building, no more djinn jumped out at them or revealed themselves, meaning that Dean raced back to his brother to tie him down. Sam, still unconscious, fell onto Dean, causing the older Winchester to grab him and stumble backwards.
"I gotcha, I gotcha, Sammy," he whispered, "Sammy?"
No response.
Dean gently slapped his little brother's face several times to no avail. He still had a pulse, thank god, he was still breathing. But whatever that djinn did to him, it clearly wasn't good. Bobby called 911 and ordered for all the ambulances they got to come out. Covered it up as some blood bank black market, but all the offenders were taken down when they tried to attack.
The victims were all taken away to different hospitals in the county that had room. Sam was the last to be taken – Dean knew he wouldn't want to be a priority – and Bobby and Dean rode in the ambulance with him while the cops removed the corpses from the scene.
"What's going on here?" Jessica came downstairs with a worried expression, "Sam, are you alright?"
"I'm gonna call the hospital," John said with a concerned look to his son. Sam snatched the phone away.
"Listen to me!" his voice wasn't violent or threatening. It was desperate.
"I am listening, Sam. But you're sick. It's no good to anyone," John said firmly.
"Sam," Jess had tears in her eyes as she came closer to him, "Baby, what's going on? What's wrong?"
Sam failed to hold back the tears, and he put a hand on her cheek. Her concern didn't subside, but she placed her hand over his.
"You're not real, Jess," he whispered, voice shaking, "This isn't real. You're dead."
He looked at John, "I got attacked by a djinn, Dad. This is all this is. A djinn fantasy."
Jess let out a sob, "Oh, Sam…baby, this is real. I promise. I'm alive, we have two kids. We're happy."
"No," Sam shook his head and wiped away tears from his eyes, "I want this to be real. But it's not. And I want Dean."
The younger Winchester broke down, "I want my big brother."
Jess threw her arms around her husband and kissed his forehead, "I'm so sorry, Sam."
Sam nestled close to her, taking in her warmth, her soft scent. How could he let this go? But how could he go on without Dean?
Letting go of his wife, the young man darted into the kitchen, grabbing the closest knife he found. Jessica screamed, and John leapt up to grab his son.
"To wake up, I gotta kill myself here, right?" Sam whispered, struggling against his father's grip as he was disarmed.
Sam was hooked up to a ventilator, the monitor beeping softly at every heartbeat. Dean was sat beside his brother, hand clinging to his, just waiting for a sign. Bobby was leaning against the wall watching him.
The doctors were baffled. This young man was perfectly fit and healthy. No reason to be comatose besides an anomaly in his blood. A substance they couldn't recognise. Frantic tests were being carried out on this chemical, as the other victims were found to have traces of it in their blood too. But Sam Winchester had a much higher concentration of the stuff in his blood. And he was the only one unconscious.
"C'mon, Sammy," Dean whispered desperately, squeezing Sam's hand and just wishing for a response.
"Why do you have to fight it?" John's tone changed, "Why can't you accept this?"
The young man looked up at his father.
"You could be happy, Sam. With us," Jessica wiped away his tears and gave an encouraging smile.
"I'm dying," Sam's voice was shaking, "Those djinn, they're feeding on me."
"And you won't feel a thing, baby. You'll have lived out a lifetime here before it kills you," Jess' voice was soft and soothing.
"While my brother's out there alone."
"He's a big boy, Sam. He can take care of himself," John spoke up.
"This is what you've always wanted," Jess stroked Sam's hair softly, "A career, a family. Me. Why throw it away?"
"I can't have that anymore," the young man's voice cracked, "I hunt with my brother. That's where I belong."
"You can belong here. With your family," Jess smiled softly.
"Don't go, Daddy," Poppy's voice broke Sam. He'd only known this kid for two days and he adored her completely. He couldn't bear the thought that she was nothing more than a hallucination. The little girl climbed onto his knee and hugged him tightly, nestling her head on his chest. He hugged his daughter close, letting out a sob.
"I don't want to go," he whispered shakily.
"Then don't," Jess kissed his cheek softly and rested her head on his shoulder, "Live out your life with us. Just how you wanted. You're happy here, you have a family, a good job."
"Happy…apparently I can't cope without Dean," Sam wiped his eyes furiously, "What about all the people I've saved? Do they not matter?"
"Why is it your job to save them, Sam?" John spoke up, words that Sam never in his life imagined would come out of his father's mouth, "You got out. There are other hunters."
"Don't you say that to me. Not now. Not after everything," Sam shook his head.
He knew what to do. Sam lifted Poppy into his arms and took her upstairs to bed. The young man read her a bedtime story and tucked her in, planting a kiss on her forehead and waiting until she was asleep before leaving the room with only the princess nightlight glowing. She might not be real, but he didn't want her to see this.
Jess and John were waiting for him nervously to return.
"Son, let's talk about this," John said calmly, "Find the best solution to this."
"No need," Sam walked past him, crouching to pick up the knife. John's eyes widened and he tried his best to stop him, but he wasn't quite quick enough. Sam stabbed himself deep in the stomach.
"No!" Jess screamed, coming closer as John caught his son. Blood dribbled from Sam's mouth as he coughed and winced in pain.
"Call 911!" John ordered sharply, his voice desperate. He looked Sam in the eye, "Don't do this, Sammy. I can't lose you too. Hold on. Stay with us, please. Jessica needs you, your children need you."
"Dean needs me," Sam choked out, closing his eyes as stars danced in his vision. Jess got off the phone and crouched beside him, clinging to his hand.
"Sam," she whimpered softly, "The ambulance is coming, alright? You hold on, hold on for us."
"I'm sorry," the young man felt hot tears stream down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.
He woke in a hospital bed, gasping a little and trying to gain his bearings. Had it worked? Sam guessed the djinn venom could have put him in the hospital if he'd been dosed up with enough. He waited for Dean to show up, presuming he'd gone to get himself a coffee or a snack.
"Sam!" Jess came into the room, and his heart sank just a little. How had it not worked?! He'd hoped the shock from the stabbing would have been enough. His wife ran to his bedside in tears, throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder, "You gave us such a scare!"
Sam hugged her back and closed his eyes in defeat. How many more times could he try and kill himself before it worked? Would it ever work?
"Now, Sam," Jess interrupted Sam's thoughts. Her wavering voice sent panic through Sam's body, "The doctors want you to stay here a while. They just want to help you get better, baby. You're still hurting from losing Dean, but you'll be alright."
Sam said nothing, just stared at the bed sheets. This wasn't a hospital, it was a secure ward. The fantasy had so quickly become a nightmare, and now there was no escape. Not as far as he knew, anyway. But somehow he would get out, he was sure of it. Sam and Dean had been in so many tight situations before and always found a way out, and this was no different. Right?
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Just a fun fact - this fic had FOUR different endings! With the help of some friends I narrowed it down to this one. If enough of you would like to read these endings, I'll post them. :)
Please review, I'd love to know what you think!