Living at the Mercy [of the Pain and the Fear]
1. Not the End
This is not the end, this is not the beginning
Just a voice like a riot rocking every revision
But you listen to the tone and the violent rhythm
Though the words sound steady something empty's within them
Sam woke up abruptly with a groan, as though someone had poked him with a blunt stick. He sat up in his bed, feeling oddly lightheaded, and blinked away the haziness that made the bright motel room swim. The last moments of a vague, dark dream lingered in his mind, strangely pressing, and a frown made its way onto his face as he attempted futilely to grab onto it, for some reason having the feeling that it was important. But all he got was a cold sixth sense telling him something was seriously wrong. He shivered involuntarily at the unbidden flashes of the sinister nightmares that had plagued his dreams for nights now, nightmares that always left him waking up like this.
He could hear the tap running in the bathroom and got up, somewhat surprised when he wasn't hit by a dizzy spell or anything. He looked up when the door opened and Dean walked out, shooting a quick glance at Sam's bed while he grabbed his duffel bag and started to hunt through it for something "Dude, you still asleep? It's like 10.30, man, and that coroner told us he'll only hold the body until noon," he called out over his shoulder before pulling out his FBI suit.
Sam frowned in confusion and took a step closer to him. "Uh, Dean? I'm right..." he trailed off when Dean turned and, ignoring him, stared hard at Sam's bed with an eye roll.
"And he tells me off for sleeping in," he muttered.
"Dean, I'm here," Sam tried again, going over to stand in front of him. Dean was looking right at him, but... his gaze seemed to be on the bed still. Sam, now seriously freaked out, started to snap "Quit joking around man, it's not funny!" but before he could get all the words out of his mouth, Dean sighed and strode forward towards Sam's bed.
Right through him.
He – walked – through – him.
Through him!
A gasp escaped Sam at the cold tingly feeling and he whirled around – only to freeze at the sight he'd missed before.
It was him.
On his bed.
He was in bed, but he was right here, and there were two of him and-
What the hell?
Slowly, Sam turned wide eyes to his brother, who had also stopped after – passing through Sam – and was looking around the room with a weirded out expression. He must have felt something. Sam watched as his gaze returned to the bed – to his body on the bed – and went to, presumably, wake him up.
Sam stared, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Hesitantly, he held up a hand and gazed at it curiously. It looked solid enough. His eyes trailed back to his still, unresponsive body and he swallowed, feeling sick.
Was he dead?
God, he hoped not. But there'd been nothing extraordinary. He hadn't... he'd just gone to sleep and woken up – well, not woken up, by the looks of it.
And he thought he'd seen it all...
x-x-x-x
Dean stopped in his tracks at the suddenly cold feeling that washed over his body. He swept narrowed eyes over the room, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Cold draft from the window, maybe?
He shrugged the thought out of his mind and turned to Sam, reaching over and tapping his shoulder. "C'mon Sleeping Beauty. Get your ass up before I decide to dump ice on you." He smirked a bit at the fun little scene that played in his mind, but it was short-lived when Sam didn't even stir.
He frowned, staring at his brother's oddly still form – sprawled across the bed on his back, limbs splayed everywhere; he was like a giant octopus – minus four limbs. But Sam hardly slept still. Hell, Sam was hardly still any time – the kid was fidgety, always pacing, or bouncing a leg, tapping his fingers on the tabletop... writhing and twitching in his sleep, trying to escape the non-stop barrage of nightmares.
So this immobility? Kinda freaking Dean out.
He crouched down and rapped Sam on the face, watching closely for any reaction. "Sam, seriously dude. Not funny."
Nothing.
Okay. Okay, so... he was... sleeping deeply. Really deeply. Tired? No – he'd turned in early last night, for a change.
Breathing?
Dean froze momentarily at the sudden unbidden thought. Face forcefully stoic, he moved his hand over to his brother's chest – too-still chest, why isn't it moving? – and, jaw clenched, felt for the steady tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump that was a familiar beat to him.
A second passed.
Two.
He didn't move.
Where was it?
Quiet and shaking with sudden fear – "Sammy?"
x-x-x-x
A/N: Yo! Okay, so, honestly, I wasn't gunna post this up till the whole story was finished, but it was taunting me, I swear. *sulks* So I succumbed to temptation and posted it up, thought I'd see the response to this first. First chapter's shorter than the rest, just a starter chapter really.
Most of it's written already, I think it's gunna be somewhere around 10-15 chapters, though I'll tell you now – don't expect 4000+ word chapters for this story. I'm trying a new thing. Typing it all together as one with roughly 1500 words in each chapter. Of course, the more content and plot in a chapter, the longer it is, so until maybe chapter 5 or 6, they're gunna be pretty short. But hey, I'll be posting them up with only a few days in between each one, so I guess it won't matter much. :) Well, until I run out or pre-written chapters, but the bunnies are going pretty rabid over this fic so I'm sure that won't happen too soon. :P
Speaking of which – reviews = quicker updates. ;D Oh yeah. So... *pokes review button* clicky! Hope this chapter left you intrigued, 'cause I'll tell ya now, you don't get answers for a few more chapters still. :P Yes, I like mystery. Even though I haven't written anything like this before. xP Tell me what ya thought?
And before I go – one quick thing: Supernatural, Robin Hood-style. Uh, the BBC Robin Hood, that is. Vaguely, anyway. Like the idea of Dean and Sammy with swords and a bow and arrow? Rebellions? Treason and a fake king? Intense plots, and more? Check out The Rebel Prince's Honour, written by me and my best friend, Renae Shnucumbs. And... that... sounded like a salesperson. *shudder* I feel dirty now, great. xP
So, yeah... Cheers~
iz.