With Arms Wide Open
Rated T: for violence, language, and disturbing and adult themes (Basically anything you would see in a episode)
Summary: Life for the Winchesters is never easy. But when they find themselves in a situation no one expected, can they survive it?
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural. I merely borrowed them.
A/N: this is my first story; so reviews are more than welcome.
He is standing in an open, snow-covered, field staring at the open landscape. A few snowflakes lands on his head; and Dean feels something slip into his hand. Glancing down, Dean discovered for the first that he isn't alone. A little girl, no older than six years old, is standing beside him; holding his hand. Dean stares down at the little girl, confused about who she was.
Her hair is covered by a hat, and her coat had snow on it, indicating that she had been playing in the snow. And even though they were looking straight at each other, Dean couldn't make out the features of her face. While it isn't a void, it's a blur; so not one feature stands out enough to register in Dean's confused mind.
Suddenly the little girl runs ahead, and begins playing in the snow some more. As Dean watches the little girl, it was as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in a long time; he felt: good, totally at peace. Her innocent giggles acting as a soothing balm on Dean's very soul.
Dean is still watching the little girl, trying to catch a glimpse of the little girl's face when the sky suddenly went dark. Suddenly the scene before him changed and Dean was left in a black void and the little girl was gone. Out of the void, Dean could hear the pain filled cries of a child, and damn if it didn't make his heart and lungs constrict as if a giant boa had a death grip on his chest.
As Dean tried to run towards the sound of the cries, it seemed as if time slowed and his legs couldn't move fast enough. Suddenly there was a bloodcurdling scream and then the sound of a gunshot ripped through the void. And ripped Dean from his sleep.
Dean bolted upright, his eyes wide with shock and fear. He was soaked in sweat; his breathing and heart were pounding as though he had just run a marathon. The sheet and blanket were tangled around him from his turbulent sleep.
Dean untangles himself from this covers and stumbles towards the bathroom. The nightmare leaving him feeling dizzy and he thinks he might actually throw up. However once he reaches the bathroom, he can do nothing more than dry heave into the sink. For a while he just stands bent over the basin, braced on the counter; arms stiff and hands firmly planted, stance wide. He is breathing hard as he tries to calm himself.
Finally, his body calms itself and the wave of nausea passes. Turning on the cold water, Dean cups his hands and brings the water up to splash his face, then runs his still wet hands over the back of his neck. For several moments Dean stands at the sink. The images of his nightmare flash through his head; and he feels his body becoming tense once more. But before he can get lost in the anxiety again, Dean pushes the images away.
It had been the same nightmare that he had been having for the last four months. While the beginning is different each time, as the good scenes change, it is always the same little girl. Dean never saw her face, but something in his heart told him it was the same child and it was her screams he heard in the end. She seemed to be calling out to him in his dreams.
But who was this child? Why was he seeing her? And why was it so hard to get the dream out of his head when he woke up? He felt a strong connection to the little girl in his dreams. But the connection just didn't make sense. He had never seen this little girl before, and didn't know of any kid that might be her. In the dreams, Dean never sees any identifying landmarks to even begin to find out this little girl's location. The urge to find her and make sure she is alright is overpowering; and filled Dean with an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the girl's safety.
Finally Dean composes himself enough to leave the bathroom. As he crosses the room heading back to his bed, he hears Sam's voice: "Dude, you ok?" Sam is propped up on his elbows, his voice deep from sleep. And even in the dim light of the room, Dean could read his concern in his body language.
"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean says as he climbs back into his bed.
Sam continues to watch Dean for a few minutes before realizing that Dean isn't about to open up and share what's bothering him. Giving up, Sam lays back down and drifts back off to sleep.
On the other bed, Dean is turned so his back is to Sam; facing the door. His green eyes are wide open and troubled as he continues to run the images of his dream through his head.
'It just doesn't make sense.' Dean thought as he allows sleep to overtake him once again.