4/13/2015 8:20:22 AM Page | 4

Chapter One

"Find cover!" He roared as the enemy began to fire, his beloved M16 coming up to target the assailants.

Another day, another firefight.

Sweat dripped down his face courtesy of the harsh Fallujah heat, but his focus remained on he enemy. One of his comrades ducked into his hiding place, peeking around the giant boulder protecting them from the enemy to shoot as well.

"You alright there, Baby Chester?" The other, Juarez, if he remembered correctly, asked him in concern and he nodded peaking around his hiding spot to fire at their attackers once more. "I'm makin' it, man. Ain't shit else you can do."

Juarez gave a strained chuckle, providing a cover fire for him as he reloaded.

After what seemed like years the battle was over and they were leaning against the boulder, adrenaline rushing through them.

Another battle won.

After almost twenty long hours in combat the enemy had finally retreated and they were able to rest. Sharing a look with his fellow marine, he turned and began to make his way back to the vehicles so that they could report back to their unit.

The other men gave them tired grins upon their arrival and he returned them, only to shudder as they gathered the dead and the injured. Those who's crimson blood stained Iraq's dry, unforgiving sands, feeding rivers born of war. Rivers he himself helped to feed and create with each enemy that fell to his beloved M16.

All the while he couldn't help but wonder, if it would ever end?

Sam gasped softly as he shot awake in the room he and Dean were sharing at Bobby's house, still able to feel the blistering heat of the Iraqi sun and smell the coppery taint of blood in the air. He hadn't had a dream about that place in almost two years and yet he could still remember how they had often left him trembling and reaching for a weapon he no longer had. For a while they had haunted him no matter the time of day and had left him sobbing or unresponsive for hours on end, but with the help of his therapist he'd gotten well enough that his brother, father, and Bobby had never discovered just what he'd gone through when he'd 'left for Stanford'.

He shuddered, jerking as a familiar flutter of wings drew him from his thoughts. Turning to the source, the slender giant found Castiel standing at the foot of his bed holding an unconscious blond woman who seemed vaguely familiar.

"You had a nightmare." The angel stated and Sam shrugged.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." He lied and his friend narrowed his eyes, his ice blue gaze piercing. Fortunately the angel let the topic drop choosing to lie the woman down on the bed beside Sam carefully.

"I have the coordinates for you next hunt."

Sam nodded absently but stared curiously at the woman lying on his bed. She was 5'10 with long dusty blond hair, the same color Dean's had been when they were younger, her body slender yet muscled under her long white nightgown and her slim feet were bare.

"Who is she?" Castiel's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"You do not recognize her?"

Sam shook his head and looked up at his friend with his brow furrowed, wide hazel eyes full of confusion.

"Should I?"

Sadness flashed in the angel's eyes and he looked away.

"She is aware of the details of your next hunt. Dean shall inform you of who she is when he awakens. It is not my place to do so."

This said, Castiel sent him one last glance then vanished. Sam sighed and frowned at the sleeping woman.

"Who are you? Why are you so important?"

"Sammy?"

Sam hmmed softly as he stirred in the desk chair he'd taken refuge in after Castiel's departure, his eyes fluttering open as Dean shook him and called his name once more. Two identical pairs of moss green eyes met his puppy like hazel and he frowned, noting the other similarities Dean shared with the mysterious woman beside him. Their facial structure was the same, although Dean had stronger more masculine features than she did, and their hair was the same color.

At the moment they were staring at him, the woman's eyes wet and full of concern. He smiled at her, suddenly realizing exactly who she was.

"Mom?"

A choked laugh left the newly resurrected Mary Winchester, and she pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back hesitantly.

Dean wrapped his arms around them both his eyes full of tears as he watched Sam meet their mother for the first time since he was six months old. After a moment they all pulled away, wiping their eyes and grinning brightly.

"I'm so proud of you, boys. Both of you."

Dean grunted, a light blush covering his cheeks.

"No chick flick moments."

Mary rolled her eyes and Sam snickered, his eyes lit up with mischief.

"Let's go surprise dad."

His mom and his brother gave identical grins. This was gonna be fun.

John Winchester stared wide-eyed at the woman sitting beside his son, his heart pounding a rapid tattoo in his chest. His beloved Mary looked just as beautiful as he remembered from her mischievous green eyes to her strong yet slender and vivacious figure. More importantly, she was alive, sitting at Bobby's dining table and holding a conversation with Sam, who nodded along adding in a few points here and there and Dean was rolling his eyes at the two. It was such a heart warming scene that he was not afraid to admit that he'd fainted upon seeing it.

"M-Mary?" He stammered gruffly and his wife turned to him smiling, tearful eyes full of love and warmth.

"John." She breathed, before huffing a soft laugh and hugging him as she were afraid to let go. He returned her embrace, his throat burning with buried grief and emotions.

"Oh Johnny, let it out, baby. I'm here. Let it out." She coaxed and he broke, sobbing silently as he buried his face in her throat and inhaled her comforting scent.

Dean looked away from the heart wrenching scene, tears streaming silently down his cheeks as he watched his parents hold each other. Due to this only Mary saw the anguish and jealousy that flashed in Sam's eyes before he silently slipped out of the room.

TBC…

A/N: So what do you guys think? Should I continue?