Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation.

Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!

Story Notes: I am trying something different with this story. It will be told solely from Dean's perspective.

Chapter 1

"Dean." Carmen's sultry voice calls to me. The raven haired woman is sitting on the edge of the deck with her feet dangling into the light blue water, her red Speedo bathing suit barely containing her ample chest. She slips one of the straps of her bathing suit off one shoulder seductively, teasing me in her slowness, then the other. She smiles at me and slips gracefully into the swimming pool, disappearing underneath the water for a moment before emerging and throwing her suit onto my head.

"The temperature's just right. Are you going to come in or what?"

I move to the edge of the pool deck, pull my shirt over my head and strip off my blue jeans. Not to be outdone by her elegant entry, I turn my back slightly before I do a cannonball into the pool. She laughs as a small geyser of water sprays her. I swim closer to Carmen. Her soft brown eyes look at me as I move in closer for a kiss.

A moan.

Our kiss deepens.

Another moan.

And didn't that just sound like…

"Sammy!"

My eyes fly open as I look to my right and the grizzly sight that befalls me. A black Ford-F150 is resting against Sam's bed. Bricks are strewn all over the beige carpet. Half of the far wall is in the rear of the vehicle and Sam; Sam is lying on the hood of the truck. I rush to his side. His eyes are closed and for a second I stop. But the sight of Sam's blood pouring from the back of his head spurs me into action, blood that is now staining the cracked windshield crimson.

"Sam, Sammy."

Silence.

My fingers search for a pulse. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find it. Sammy's heart is beating faster than it should be, but at least it's still beating.

A twenty something man staggers out of the truck. He looks like one of those college kids I saw roaming around Stanford's campus as I searched for Sam. His bloodshot eyes look at me, confusion and laughter glistening in them.

"Is this valet parking?"

His yellow polo shirt bunches up as I grab him. The stench of alcohol emanating from him is enough to make me nauseous. "You stupid sonuvabitch."

I flatten him with one punch. I really feel like beating him to a pulp but I need to tend to Sam. I grab all the towels I can find, rushing back to Sam I press one firmly against my brother's head. There's just so much blood.

"Stay with me, Sammy." I cry as I reach for my cell on the nightstand and prepare to call 911.

Flashing red lights spill into the room as an ambulance pulls into the parking lot stopping me, my phone slips from my hand and onto the grungy carpet as I turn my attention back to my brother. Someone must have called already. Two paramedics come to the front door with a stretcher, creating a battle inside me, forcing me to leave Sam yet again to let them in. They take their time assessing him, unwilling to move him before they feel ready to do so, strapping a neck brace on and applying a bandage to Sam's wound before securing him to the backboard and lifting him onto the gurney.

"What's his name?"

"Sam…Sam Deacon."

I climb into the back of the ambulance with Sam and one of the medics, his partner quickly closes the back doors before jumping into the driver's seat and setting the vehicle in motion.