A/N: Earlier this year I joined spnflashback's pre-series challenge on livejournal. This is the first story for my table. Took me forever to think up, and I still feel very off about it (it doesn't move smoothly). Oh well, here it is!

Nightmares
October 23, 1983

"No!" Came the familiar shriek, causing John to jump out of bed. He ran down the hall, bursting into Dean's room in time to see his oldest writhing underneath the covers.

"Shhh, buddy, you're okay," John whispered, gathering Dean into his arms.

"No fire, n-no fire," Dean cried softly, stuck in a dream-like state.

"C'mon, Deano, wake up."

"D-Daddy?" The four year old asked hesitantly, voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm here. Shhh, I'm here," A sob broke from Dean's small frame.

Rubbing the crying boy's back, John paced the room, praying that these nightly nightmares would just end. For a week Dean had been having terrible dreams, but refused to talk about them. His scream that would either wake John or Mary, the only indication at how bad they truly were.

Dean curled tighter into his father, face pressed against John's neck. John sat back against the 'big boy' bed they had just bought the four year old, shushing Dean's cries. Eventually the sobs faded away, leaving behind a slight hitch in Dean's breathing.

"You wanna talk about it?" John asked, slapping himself mentally when Dean's green eyes widened.

"No," Dean choked out, turning away.

John went back to rubbing his son's back until he felt himself beginning to fall asleep.

"You wanna sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?" He asked, and felt Dean nod against his chest.

John carried the boy into the master bedroom, and laid him down on the bed. Automatically, Dean moved to his sleeping position, on his stomach. Turning the table lamp off, John settled into the covers, with Dean between himself and Mary. In seconds the ex-marine was fast asleep, snoring softly.

Dean tightened his grip on his dad's nightshirt, and turned his head toward his sleeping mother. She was facing him, a soft smile gracing her face. Dean lightly ran his small fingers over her face, memorizing it, trying to erase the images of the fire, from his nightmares, burning her skin away.

"No," Dean whimpered, moving closer to Mary.

Feeling safe between his mom and dad, Dean closed his eyes and hoped the dream wouldn't come back that night.