Hey all! Here's the next story in the Visions series! Hope you enjoy and PLEASE review!

"Dean is in trouble, dad! I had a vision and if we don't-"

John cut Sam off sharply. "Sam, we are not going to trust these visions! They are supernatural!" John's voice roared through the small apartment.

Sam bit back a sigh, standing on the other side of the living room. I'm so tired of fighting about this. "Dad, I've had three visions so far and every one of them has been right! They've saved lives every time! Maybe they aren't bad! Maybe there's something good out there, something on our side!"

John's face turned red, furious that his son would argue with him. Again. "Sam, dang it, the supernatural is evil, and we hunt it, end of story! There are no good supernatural creatures, definitely nothing with enough power to make you have these visions."

Normally, by now, Dean would have stepped in and stopped the fight, pulling Sam away, calming their dad, but he wasn't here to do so. I wish Dean had never gone on that solo hunt. I haven't fought so much with dad in a long time. If ever. Why can't he ever listen to reason? Does he really think I'm evil? "So, what, if these visions continue, you're going to hunt ME? That logic doesn't make any sense, dad. I'm not evil, but there is something supernatural about me. So the next time I have a vision you're going to put a gun to my head and off me? Are you willing to risk Dean's life just because you can't stand to be wrong about the supernatural or these visions?"

Sam knew he had gone too far a second later, when his dad stormed towards him with the speed and grace of a well-practiced hunter. A resounding crack echoed through the room and Sam was thrown to the floor by the force of the blow across his face, holding his hand to his burning, aching cheek.

"We ARE NOT going to TRUST these FREAK visions of yours, SAMUEL!" His father's roar made Sam, still reeling from the blow, flinch.

A second later, the front door slammed closed as John stormed out of the room, with only a passing "Going to a bar", leaving Sam lying on the floor, chest heaving, face pale, tears gathering in his eyes and spilling out over his cheeks.

He hit me. Gosh, he hit me. Maybe I really am evil…..I mean, dad's never hit me before…... No. No, Dean said I'm not evil. I'm not evil. DEAN! Pushing his pain at his father's words and actions into the back of his mind, Sam focused on his brother. Whether or not his dad trusted the visions, he did and he wasn't going to let his brother die. No matter what. Hold on, Dean. Hold on. Grabbing his gun, Sam tucked it into the back of his pants, pulling his jacket down over it, grabbed some money from his father's stash for emergencies, then walked over to the door. Dad won't even notice I left. I can just hitch hike to the next town over. According to the vision, Dean's in the woods there. Sam squared his shoulders, closing the door behind him firmly, determined to help his brother. I'm coming, Dean. Just hang in there.

….

Dean paced back and forth with short steps, not having much maneuvering room. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I can't believe I let it push me into this hole! It was too deep for him to climb out on his own and there was no one around to help. His family didn't expect him back for days yet. CRAP! The creature had even managed to destroy his gun. What the heck am I going to do now? Great going, Winchester. Dean froze as he sensed more than heard or saw movement above him. He looked up just in time to see the end of a rope thrown down. What in the world… Hesitantly, guardedly, he reached forward and tugged on the rope. It was secure at least. Deciding he really had no other choice, Dean grabbed onto it and began to hoist himself up. A few minutes later, he breached the top, pulling himself up with a huff of exhaustion. To his surprise, he saw, lying right next to him, a gun, with a sticky note attached. Grabbing the note, he read:

Good luck on the hunt. Love ya, jerk.

Sam.

Dean laughed out loud at that, picking the gun up, stuffing the note in his pocket. I knew those visions were good things. Ah, Sammy, my little hero! Chuckling, Dean moved off into the forest, determined to finish this hunt, then go home to the little psychic that had just saved his life.

….

Dean returned to his motel room, stretching, his body sore, begging for sleep. The hunt had been long, but finally successful thanks to his little brother.

Reaching over to his duffel, Dean froze as a piece of white paper fluttered to the floor. Someone was in here. Alarmed, he scanned the room, but he knew he was alone. He would have instantly been aware if there was still someone in the room with him. He picked up the paper. Sam's handwriting. His heart sank as he saw the water stains scattered over it. Oh, no. Sam had been crying. Sammy, please tell me this is some simple emo girl thing that I can fix with a hug.

Dean,

I'm really sorry for telling you like this, through a note, but I can't go back to the motel and I know if I actually told you face to face you'd talk me out of it. That or tie me up and stick me in the back of the Impala. I can't stay. Dad…..dad thinks I'm a freak. He said so. He doesn't trust me, Dean, and…..I think he hates me. We got in a big argument. He didn't want me to go. He….he said he refused to trust my "freak visions". I asked him if he would put a gun to my head and off me the next time I had a vision and he didn't answer. Well, not with words anyway. I…I can't trust him and…..I can't put you between us. I can't risk you getting hurt. I'm so sorry, Dean.

I took my cell, so please call whenever you feel like it. I don't know where I'm going yet, but I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough. Don't tell dad where I am or that I have my cell, okay?

I love you, Dean. Please don't be mad at me.

Sam

Sam ran away. Oh, gosh, Sam ran away.

…..

Okay. Alright. Okay. Don't panic. Don't panic. Sam is gone, but you don't need to panic. Just breathe. He can't have gone far. Don't panic. Just a little while ago, he pulled you out of the hole. Where would he go? With this thought, Dean squared his shoulders. He knew instantly where Sam would start off when running away, but it was in the next town over. Time to head back. Gathering his already packed stuff, Dean ran to the Impala.

….

Dean parked the Impala a ways away from his destination, far enough away that if (when! It has to be "when"! He's still there, dang it! He has to be.) Sam was still there, he wouldn't hear the familiar engine. Dean climbed out, running silently forward. He entered the city garden, beautifully done, well-kept, the flowers in bloom. He ignored all this.

He only had eyes for the kneeling, whimpering, figure in the middle of it, head clutched in his hands.

Sam.

Dean dropped to his knees beside Sam, grabbing his little brother's shoulders. "Sammy? Sam, what's-" Dean cut off as the familiar posture suddenly registered.

Sam was having another vision.

Crap.

Sam's body suddenly jerked, pitching forward into Dean's arms. A scream ripped through his little brother, followed by a wrenching sob that ripped through Dean's heart, his arms tightening around his baby brother.

"Sammy. You'll be okay, it'll be over soon, you'll be okay." Dean stroked Sam's head, whispering nonsense comfort, hoping to ease his little brother at least a little.

Finally, Sam went stiff, all movement stilling, sound cutting off and, Dean's least favorite, even Sam's breathing stopped.

The next thirty seconds were the longest of Dean's life.

Sam finally went completely limp, lax in his brother's arms.

Dean gently turned him over, cradling Sam's upper body in his arms, gazing down into the face of the boy he had practically raised, who was his reason for breathing, moving, existing, who was his best friend, and, most importantly, who was his little brother.

Sam stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open, the sick, glazed look in his eyes worrying Dean, the mother-hen instincts going into overdrive.

He still has a nasty headache, Dean realized. He gently massaged Sam's temples, biting back a chuckle as Sam's eyes drooped with the motions, the tension draining out of his face. Finally satisfied, Dean stopped, deciding it was time for Sam to give some answers. Obviously, the kid had a few issues he needed to work out, on top of this new vision.

"Sammy? Hey, kiddo, time to open your eyes."

At the sound of Dean's voice, Sam's eyes forced their way open again, meeting his big brother's worried green ones. His brow furrowed with confusion. "D-Dean?"

Dean helped him sit up, grabbing his shoulders to get his attention and at least half to make sure the kid didn't run off or anything until they were done - Dean shivered - talking. "Sammy, why did you run away? What exactly happened? And what were you thinking?" Dean scanned his baby brother's face then froze as he wondered how he possibly could have missed the big, black, blue and purple bruise on Sam's cheek. Something Sam had said in his note suddenly clicked and Dean's eyes widened in horror. "Sam, did he hit you?"

Sam's eyes filled with tears that he valiantly fought back at first, hesitating before slowly nodding. As the next thought came, his lost his battle against the tears. "Dean, you don't think I'm evil, right?"

Darn you, dad. Dean pulled Sam into his arms, hugging him tightly. "No, Sammy. I know you're not evil." He said softly. He released Sam, watching as Sam bit his bottom lip.

"Dad and I got in a fight." He began to explain. "I had a vision about you….." Sam shuddered at the memory. "….you in that hole. The creature came and….you….it…. " Sam couldn't finish the mind-numbing, heart-stopping thought. "….I tried to convince him to go, but he refused. He kept saying that the visions were evil and that we weren't going to trust them. Things got pretty nasty and…..well, I...I said that I'm not evil but I have something supernatural in me….I asked him if the next time I have a vision, was he going to press a gun to my head and off me." Sam winced. "Then I asked him if he was willing to risk your life just because he didn't want to be wrong about the supernatural or my visions." Sam stared off at nothing, his gaze distant. "I don't actually remember him moving across the living room. He was across the room one moment, then I was on the floor." Sam brought up a hand to his cheek, gingerly resting it over the large bruise there. "He went to the bar and I went after you." Sam met Dean's gaze, his cheeks tear-stained, his face pale, his eyes begging for reassurance and filled with another emotion Dean definitely didn't like, but couldn't quite place. Hatred? Fear? Resignation?

No matter which it was, it didn't belong in his baby brother's puppy-dog eyes.

"Dad's right, Dean. I'm just a freak. You guys are better off without me there."

Dean, instantly angry, grabbed Sam by the shoulders. He forced himself to pause, bite back the sharp, horrified retort that threatened to break loose. That won't help. Unable to hold back any longer, Dean's voice was strained when he finally spoke. "Samuel Winchester, if I ever hear you say something like that again, I'm going to….." he trailed off, unable to retain the anger as the tears streamed down Sam's face, misery etched into every inch of his posture and face. Finally, Dean sighed, moving his hands to either side of Sam's face, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears there. "…..dang it, Sammy…Don't say that. You're not a freak. You saved my life and your visions have saved other lives too. Dad was wrong to hit you and say that to you. I trust you, Sam, and I….." Man, kiddo, you are just a walking chick-flick moment….. "….I love you, buddy, and there's no way I'd be better off without you there. I swear, you ever run away again and I'll track you down, kick your butt, then drag you back home where you belong."

A second later, Sam was in Dean's arms, hugging him tightly, Dean instantly returning the hug. Someday you're going to get too old for this. The thought was sadder than Dean thought it would be. Then again, maybe I won't let you outgrow this. Without releasing his brother, Dean cleared his throat to speak. "Okay. Now that the chick flick moment is over, what did you see in your vision?" Dean pulled back enough that he could see Sam's face, but maintained a tight hold on his shoulders.

Sam's face drained and he shook his head.

Dean wasn't sure if it was a refusal to tell him, a refusal to think about it at all, or simply a request for a moment to gather himself. Either way, it wasn't going to fly. Dad may not like it, but these visions are important. Dean felt his blood boil at the thought of what his dad had done to Sam and made a silent promise to himself and to Sam that it wouldn't happen again. Looks like you and I are having a talk later, dad.

"Come on, Sammy. You can tell me. I promise I'll believe you, no matter what you saw."

Dean's eyes finally met Sam's and he was surprised by what he saw there. It wasn't the shyness, the worry, he expected, but full-blown terror.

Sam was scared.

Crap, kiddo, what did you see?

Sam finally opened his mouth to speak. "I…I saw…Dean…..I'm going to die."

Dean simply stared at Sam a moment, his mind struggling to process what his baby brother had just said.

"I think it's going to happen tonight. In my vision…..we were both wearing the same clothing we are right now. I'm not exactly sure where we were, though what I could see of the surroundings was familiar so it was probably around town somewhere at least." Sam's voice shook. "Dad wasn't there. You were though. I….I think it was a drive-by shooting. A car came by, a gun out the window." Sam's smile was weak and humorless. "Kinda like in the movies." The smile was gone as quickly as it came. "I got hit in the chest and stomach two or three times. You….." Sam sounded really shaken, staring down at his hands. "You held me while I faded…... When….when I….you know….left….you started crying…" Sam hesitated. "…..I've…..I've never seen you cry before, Dean….." Sam choked. And it's nothing I care to see again, big brother. "…I'm scared, Dean. I-I don't want to die."

This seemed to snap Dean out of his horror-struck trance. "You're not going to die, Sammy. I won't let you." He was proud of how calm, how even his voice was, considering all he wanted to do was scream, shout, and (heaven forbid) cry. "I need to know all of the details you can remember, Sammy. Time of day, surroundings, car model, everything."

Sam managed to give Dean all of the details he could remember.

"Alright. I think the best course of action for now is to return to the motel and leave as soon as it'slight. That way, we would have missed the window of attack, right?"

Sam nodded, willing to follow his brother to the ends of the earth. If Dean had told him to jump off a cliff right now he probably would have done it. He hated feeling so needy and vulnerable, but with these visions…something about them left him open and exposed, weak, in a way that he didn't like, but couldn't fight.

Lucky for him his brother was such a mother-hen at heart.

…..

Dean parked the Impala and was out in under five seconds, heading to Sam's door. The motel was stuffed to the brim tonight and all the close parking spaces had been taken. They had been forced to park a ways away.

With Sam glued to his side, Dean began to cross the parking lot, eyes wary and watchful.

"DEAN!" Sam's warning shout had him jerking his head back to look at the approaching car, exactlyas Sam had described it.

It was coming too fast, there was no time. No time for thinking, no time for goodbyes, no time for regretting, hoping, wishing. There wasn't even any time for praying if Dean had been inclined to do so.

Dean grabbed his brother and they both hit the ground an instant before bullets began to whiz over their heads, raking across the front of the motel as the car moved by, firing till they reached the end of the motel. Screams could be heard from inside the rooms, but Dean didn't pay them any mind. His only thought was of the limp body next to his.

"Sammy? Sam? SAMMY!" Dean gently turned his brother over, frantically searching for blood, for a hole, for anything, something to send him off the deep end towards insanity, to make losing his brother a reality.

Nothing.

Puzzled, concerned, yet relieved, Dean scanned his brother again and finally laid eyes on the problem. Sam had hit his head on the pavement when falling. The kid probably had a concussion and would wake up with one heck of a headache, but it wasn't anything that could kill him.

Gosh…... He's going to be okay. We survived, he survived. Dang, Sammy. Dean let out a sigh of relief. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days.

…..

Dean was going to have to remember to get a camera.

His brother was a prime candidate for blackmail, especially when sleeping. The kid was just so…..cute...when he was asleep. Not that he would ever admit it. Even under pain of death, threat of slow eternal torture, he would never say it out loud…..but his little brother was still the adorable little baby he'd been years before, just a bit bigger.

Currently his emotionally spent, sore, exhausted, little brother was curled up beside where he sat indian style, his head resting on Dean's thigh, hand wrapped around Dean's bootless foot.

You know…..considering what Sam had been through, maybe he would let this one (just this one, just this once) go. He refused to acknowledge that he needed the comfort of knowing his brother was there and safe, too. He also refused to acknowledge the fact that his hand was running through Sam's mop of hair, the other resting gently on his side.

Gosh, he's corrupting me! I'll be a girl before I can reach twenty! Dean smirked fondly.

…..

By the time his dad returned from the bar, Sam was sound asleep, drugged up enough to bury his monstrous headache thanks to the minor concussion he was sporting, and unlikely to be waking up anytime soon.

That's probably a good thing, considering how loud and violent this is about to get.

Dean would always protect his little brother. From everything. Even their father if needs be.

"Dad, we need to talk." You know what? Forget civil. This is personal. Fury built in his chest and before Dean was completely aware of what he was doing, he was shoving his shocked father up against the wall. "If you ever hit Sammy again, I will take him and we will disappear." The threathung heavy on the air for a second until Dean continued. "We were taught by the best and you will never find us." Dean snapped. "And for the record, Sam was right. He saved my life, dad. AND while you were gone, Sam had another vision." Dean's voice rose to a shout now."HE ALMOST DIEDAND YOU WERE TOO BUSY DRINKING TO BE THERE!" His voice quieted some, but was still audible throughout the room. "Sam trusts his visions and so should we, simply because Sam does. They've saved your life, the lives of possible supernatural victims, and now mine and even his own. As if that wasn't reason enough, Sam believes they are working for our good. And that should be enough." Dean took a deep breath, loosening his hold on his dad, who was staring at him in shock. Dean's face was hard, twisted in fury, but his eyes were cold, sharp, and a warning shone clearly from them. "Don't touch Sam again, dad, or I swear you'llregret it." Dean stared up into his father's face, judging, seeing if he felt his father was getting the message.

It had gone through. Loud and clear. The guilt on his father's face was obvious and, satisfied, Dean released him.

A sudden whimper sounded from across the room and Dean turned sharply to see Sam twisting in his sleep, caught in a nightmare.

John was struck by how quickly and easily Dean slid out of his fierce protector mode and into the caring big brother mode. He really would go to the ends of the earth for him. You are one lucky kid, Sammy. John winced. At least in the big brother department. I certainly won't be earning any father of the year awards... I'm sorry, Sammy. I'll fix this, I promise.

Dean hurried over to his little brother, quickly sitting down on the bed beside him, rubbing a hand soothingly in circles on his back, leaning closer to whisper so Sam could hear him clearly. "You're okay, baby brother. You're okay, Sammy. You're safe. It's okay. I'm here."

Even as he heard his dad sit down on the other bed, Dean watched as Sam stilled under his touch, falling back into a deep sleep.

Satisfied, Dean climbed onto the other side of the bed, curling up beside his brother, an arm thrown protectively around him, who nestled in closer to his warm embrace, one that offered safety and protection and love to the young boy in a world that offered little refuge for him.

Nothing's going to happen to you while I'm around, Sammy. You'll always be safe with me here. No matter what happens.