Hopefully you'll love reading this as much as I loved/hated writing it. :) :) :) Smileys!
The poltergeist case was supposed to be a cinch. But, as the hammer came down over Dean's head, he thought otherwise. "WTF!" was on his lips as he fell.
He fully expected to see nothing but black. But, it seemed he was still conscious, without pain. He rubbed where the bitch hit him. Nothing was there. Even stranger was the fact that he wasn't in Kansas anymore. Literally. The Kansas house where the poltergeist was residing was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a bar. A rather clean one, Dean noted. His brother, Sam, wasn't there either.
That thought took a while to sink in. Then, his fear came kicking and screaming back. "Sam! Where are you?!" His voice sounded alien to him. It seemed muffled under the weight of the silence. He took an uncertain step toward the bar. His heart rate rose when someone spoke, or rather giggled.
Laughing filled the void in Dean's ears. "Yeah, yeah. He said he was afraid of flying. Can you believe that?" The laughing and giggling grew closer. "He fights and kills the son-of-a-bitches and bastards of the demon world, and he can't stand to be in a fucking plane? Come on!" Giggles followed. Three figures began to appear from the dark confines of the bar.
"Sammy?" Dean couldn't believe his eyes. Really, he couldn't. Sam continued to talk to his companions as they were hit by a near streetlight's beam. He had his arms around two women, Jo and Ellen. All had drinks in their hands and were laughing or giggling. What the hell was happening?
They finally noticed who was standing in front of them. "Oh, hey, Dean. Finally stopped sucking it up to Dad and come to join the party?" Jo and Ellen giggled again. Dean didn't even know that they could giggle. However, he recognized that Sam was heavily drunk. He was surprised that he wasn't singing karaoke by now. But, something was bothering him. Sam was talking like Dad was still alive. Normally, they wouldn't even talk about him, or his death. Dean somehow got Sam away from the loopy women and quietly told him.
Sam's demeanor completely changed. He charged at Dean and ran him into the wall. He clutched at Dean's jacket collar, yelling at his brother's shocked face. "It's your fault, Dean! Your fault!"
Dean was caught totally off guard. Sam was wide awake, he could see it in his eyes. "Sam… what … what are you saying?" He felt confused and exhausted.
"You killed Dad. He sacrificed himself for you. You! Of all people, you! You're supposed to be dead!" Dean remembered saying those words before. They came back with more force when Sam said it in his face. Sam froze looking at something far away in the distance. Dean released himself from Sam's grasp. He turned to look where Sam was looking.
In an instant, Sam, Jo, Ellen, the bar, everything blurred in a whirlwind. Dean closed his eyes against the mix of colors. He raised his arms to prevent himself from falling over. The young hunter felt like he was in a tornado of light, but his feet weren't leaving the ground.
As suddenly as it started, it stopped. No wind. No light. No sound. Then, screams rushed into his ears. It was like someone just turned off the mute on the TV of his brain.
Dean opened his eyes. The sounds of screams stopped. He was standing in a living room. It looked clean and organized, but you could feel the "hominess" all around. A flash of light caught his eye. It the reflection off of a framed photograph. Dean picked it up. His throat caught at what he saw.
It was a family, a complete one, where everyone was smiling. A father, a mother, grandparents, uncle, and two children. The father was handsome, tall, it was Dean. Cassie stood next to him. Sam, Mary, and John were all there. The children looked perfect. You could tell who were their parents. Their faces were a delicate mix of Dean's eyes, Cassie's dimples, their smiles. They all stood in front of the very house Dean stood in at this very moment. Tears made a soft pitter-patter as they hit the glass on the picture. Dean's heart was breaking all over again.
Upstairs a door opened. Dean tore his eyes from the picture. Footsteps went down the stairs. Cassie appeared with a grin on her face.
"Hey, Dean, why - " She noticed his tears. "Why are you crying? Come here. I'll make it all better." Dean placed the picture back and fell into Cassie's open arms. Well, he tried in vain. His feet would not move. Dean looked at Cassie for support. The Yellow-Eyed Demon stood behind her.
"What's wrong, Dean?" He opened his mouth to speak, to try to warn her. Nothing came out. Even his arms were stuck to his sides, immobile.
The Demon smiled. Cassie cried out in pain as flames engulfed her. She screamed for Dean to help her. But, he could only watch. Watch as his only true love burned. Burn because of The Yellow-Eyed Demon. Because of The Demon. Who killed his mother. Killed Jess. Killed Dad.
Dean could move. His legs frantically launched himself forward to reach Cassie, her face contorted in pain. He fell into nothing. He was back in the torrent of wind and light. Dean felt like he was being torn apart, inside and out. He screamed for it stop.
It did. This time it appeared that he was in a park. It was empty, except for a little girl on one of the swings. She called Dean to come over. He obeyed. She patted the seat beside her for him to sit. Why does she look familiar? She interrupted his thoughts.
"Why are you so sad?" Her voice was full of youth. She was a picture of mankind's purity. As she swung gently back and forth, her bright and big, blue eyes followed Dean, waiting for an answer.
Dean found his voice. "I don't know." He didn't know why he lied. It was sort of like a reflex. But, the little girl was no threat. She seemed unfazed by his answer, like she knew what he was thinking.
"It's because of all the bad stuff, isn't it?" Dean chuckled tiredly as he nodded. He couldn't believe his feelings could be explained with such simple words. "Don't worry, Dean. Hope is everywhere. Take the time to see it. Would I leave you here all alone?"
"How did you know my name? Wait, who are you?" Dean kept her gaze as she swung.
"Whoever you want me to be. Do not be so surprised. You've seen much stranger things than this." She paused. She began to drag her feet and slowed herself to a stop. She hopped off the swing. She sat on his lap and took his hand. "You are so strong, Dean. Your soul can never be broken…. And it's never as bad as it seems. Never forget that." Dean looked at her. In her deep eyes. "It's okay to let go." It wasn't a statement, more of like something a mother would say to reassure her child after falling off a bike.
Dean's heart felt healed, it felt whole. He hugged the little girl and let his sorrow go. He thought about Mary, Sam, John, Cassie, Bobby, Caleb, Jo, Ellen, Missouri, other hunters, all the victims, as he cried. The future victims, the psychics plagued by The Demon. Memories streamed before his eyelids.
Without anymore tears to shed, Dean opened his eyes. The little girl seemed tired, or could it be that she took the sorrow away? She smiled, like he said that aloud. "Dean. Don't look at me that way. You can't let yourself be buried under sadness and forget about the joy in life. Sometimes you have to let others take it." Her voice sounded slightly more passionate. "Sam can't bare to look at you when you are like that. It adds more sorrow to his. Don't forget about his promise. Because you can keep it. Trust me."
"Okay." Dean looked at the sky, thinking. He felt lighter, like something heavy had been lifter from his shoulders. Maybe the little girl was right. He looked back at her. She wasn't there.
Wind and light surrounded him once more. However, it seemed beautiful to him now. But, Dean gasped in shock as his feet left the ground. He fell upward into the source of light.
A voice called out thru the emptiness. "Dean! Dean, wake up!" I'd know that voice anywhere.
"Sammy? Is that really you?" Dean opened his eyes. He was back in the motel room. He sat up.
Sam looked relieved and let his nickname slide. "Who else would it be? Are you okay?" He used the back of his hand to check Dean's forehead for a fever. Dean didn't wave it away. Now, that was weird. Now, Dean was smiling.
"Man. I just love the look on your face right now. Come here, geek boy, let me give you a hug."
Now that was crossing a line. He pushed Dean back down on the bed. "Whoa, Dean. I think you need to lie back down. You're acting very strangely. Well, stranger than usual."
"Why can't I just hug my brother? I'm not gay you know." Sam didn't look convinced. "Okay. See? I'm on the bed. You should take a shower. You smell like hell man."
"Nice try. No, I'm not taking my eyes off you. You got hit over the head with a hammer, remember?"
"Fine. Look, now I have an ice pack. That enough for you?" Jesus, his brother could be so stubborn.
Well, he seems sane enough. "Okay. But, yell if you need me." Sam slowly went into the bathroom, looking back at his smiling brother with worried eyes.
Dean waited till he could hear the water running. He sighed as he stood up. His bag sat at the end of the bed. He reached into the hidden pocket at the bottom and took a very old photo out. Dean looked at it and sat back down. He know knew who that little girl reminded him of. The picture was of before the time of the fire, before the Yellow-Eyed Demon, before the world turned upside down.
It was Mary Winchester.