Supernatural: Dream a Little Dream of Me
A/N: Welcome back, guys, to a whole new story where we are going to return to the Dream World, and see whether Sam still has his dream ability or not. Buckle up and get ready for a wild ride. Read, review, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or Criminal Minds; I just own the characters that I happen to create.
CHAPTER ONE: A FRIEND IN NEED
"A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
Proverbs 18:24
Bobby Singer was walking through a nice-looking house, armed with a flashlight and he was searching for something. Somewhere behind him he heard a noise and he turned around, but there was nothing. This left him worried as he resumed walking until he reached the doors to the kitchen; taking a breath, he slowly slid them open, and carefully stepped inside.
He scanned the room and, suddenly, he heard a woman scream mere seconds before she attacked him!
Bobby yelped as he fell to the floor with her on top of him and she struggled with him, pulling him back and forth, while she was still screaming, and slammed the back of his head on the floor. Hard…and a bright light exploded behind his eyes.
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Motel room…
A maid unlocked a door and entered the room beyond to do some cleaning when the sight of Bobby lying in the bed, asleep, startled her. She thought there was no one inside.
"Oh! I'm sorry," she gasped and began walking out, pausing to retrieve her keys from the door when she realized that Bobby hadn't moved once, and she became a bit worried. "Sir?" but she didn't get a response, and the only part of him that was moving was his chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. Concerned, she left the keys in the door and walked over the bed.
She touched him on the shoulder and got no reaction. "Wake up," she requested gently, but still he didn't react.
Back in the kitchen, the woman was still screaming and attacking, and Bobby was trying to fend off the attack; she then slammed his head against the floor once more.
Fearful now, the maid grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him, trying to wake him up.
"Wake up, you hear me? Wake up. Sir, wake up!" she shouted, but still Bobby refused to wake up from the nightmare he was currently in. Panicking, she turned to the door, and screamed for help. "Help! I need some help in here!"
Quantico, VA
FBI, BAU division…
In her office, Jennifer Jareau, JJ to her friends and family, was sitting at her desk and was wondering when she was going to reveal to her teammates that she was pregnant. 'I've already told Will, and I should tell the others, too, since eventually I'm going to start showing around my middle.'
When she finally admitted to her teammates that she was dating William LaMontagne Jr., a detective that they'd worked with down in New Orleans last year, they hadn't been surprised in the slightest, but had been respectful about not revealing that they'd already knew, which she was grateful.
Now, however, JJ was faced with a new problem about the slowly developing baby in her womb and how this was going to affect her relationship with William, who'd taken the news quite well, her job, especially since Gordon Walker and his thugs were still on the loose, and she feared that Section Chief Erin Strauss would use it as an excuse to break up the team…again.
When her phone rang, JJ immediately picked up, pushing her fears aside for the time being. "Hello?" and frowned, listening. "Can you describe the man please, miss?" she listened again. "Yes, yes, he's one of our agents…oh, I'll transfer you to my boss right away." She then pushed a few buttons, transferring the call to Aaron Hotchner and hung up. 'What's going on with Bobby?'
A few minutes later, JJ was in the conference room with Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, and Penelope Garcia, and Hotch was telling them about the phone call from a hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania concerning their friend Bobby Singer, who had been there working a case.
"What kind of case was Bobby workin' on?" Morgan asked sipping his coffee.
"They don't know," Hotch admitted, "and they also don't know what's wrong with him either, which is why we're heading to Pittsburgh and we'll most likely need help from the Winchesters, who should be getting a call soon as one of Bobby's emergency contacts."
"Are you going to need my help in Pittsburgh, sir?" Penelope asked.
"Yes, as this will also give us a chance to let the Winchesters know about what we have on Lilith," Hotch confirmed. "We leave in an hour."
At a bar, a bartender was pouring drinks for a couple and Sam was sitting at a table in the back of the room, all alone and was nursing a drink, He was tilting his glass back and forth slowly, almost spilling out the contents. He was sad, and all the hope had seemed to leave his body, plus he was also a bit drunk.
The door opened behind him and Dean and Liz walked in, searching the crowd. When they saw their little brother, they walked over, brows furrowed.
"There you are. What are you doing?" Dean asked, concerned since it was never a good sign when he ran off like that without telling them.
Sam turned to them, his eyes slightly glazed over. "Having a drink."
"It's 2 in the afternoon," Liz pointed out, frowning at the contents in the glass. "Drinking whiskey?"
Sam scowled. "I drink whiskey all the time."
Dean shook his head. "No, you don't."
Sam scoffed, drinking from his glass. "What's the big deal?" he snapped. "You get sloppy in bars, and you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?"
Liz rolled her eyes while Dean looked around and noted a woman by the bar: she was probably 40 and she wasn't looking all that good, nothing like the women he usually hit on. "It does have slim pickings around here." He turned back to their brother. "What's going on with you?"
"Yeah," Liz agreed, taking the glass from him, getting a protest in response. "You've had enough, little brother."
Sam pouted, but he shook his head, and didn't say anything for a few moments a lost puppy dog expression on his face. "I tried, Dean, Liz."
This left his siblings a bit confused. "To do what?"
"To save you, Liz," Sam answered sorrowfully.
Liz sighed, realizing what he was getting at. "Sam, I know that, and it'll work out before we run out of time." 'Man, I hope the end of the year doesn't make a liar out of me.'
Dean sat down next to him. "Could I get a whiskey, double, neat? And a lemonade chaser?"
Sam shook his head sourly. "I'm serious, Liz."
"No, you're drunk," Liz countered, keeping the glass from his grasp. "I'm cutting you off, bro."
Sam scowled. "I mean, where you're going…what you're gonna become." He was close to tears now. "I can't stop it." He sighed. "I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you."
"What I've been telling you," Dean teased as their drinks were brought over, and yelped when Liz kicked his leg. Hard. "Ow! Hey!"
"Knock it off, Dean," she scolded. "Sam, we'll find Lilith, who holds my deal, blow the bitch away with the Colt and it'll be peaches and cream after that."
Sam shook his head. "I don't know if that's even possible, Liz, I really don't."
Liz opened her mouth to counter that statement when Dean's cell-phone rang and he answered it.
"Hello?" he asked and listened. "Yes, this is Mr. Sniderson." And then a surprised expression crossed his face. "What?" he looked over at his siblings, the surprise now being replaced with concern. "Where?"
Quickly paying for their drinks, the Winchesters left the bar, jumped into the Impala, and were soon on their way to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, determined to figure out what was wrong with their friend and join up with the BAU.
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
West Penn Allegheny Health System…
It was a cloudy morning when the Winchesters arrived at the hospital at the same time as the BAU team, and they all went inside to find out what was going on with their friend and what they would have to do in order to reverse the problem before it was too late.
Bobby was now lying in a hospital bed and was hooked up to several machines. The Winchesters and the BAU team were gathered near the bed and were talking with the attending doctor.
"So, what's the diagnosis?" Sam asked.
The doctor shrugged. "We've tested everything we can think to test. He seems perfectly healthy."
"Except that he's comatose," Dean pointed out.
"Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact," the doctor stated. "Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"
"No, he-he never gets sick," Dean stammered. "I mean he doesn't even catch cold."
"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" Liz asked, wondering whether the Menae had anything to do with this.
"Look, I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, "but we don't know what's causing it…so we don't know how to treat it. He just…went to sleep, and didn't wake up."
"Thank you for your help, sir," Hotch told the doctor, who nodded and left, and then he turned to the Winchesters. "Do any of you know why Bobby's in Pittsburgh?"
Sam shook his head. "No idea."
"He must be working a case since he's using an FBI badge," Emily remarked, holding up his wallet.
"Then the answer should be in his motel room," Rossi pointed out, "and that should be our next stop since we can't do anything here." And the other members of the BAU agreed with that.
Dean, Liz, and Sam shared a look and then they looked over at Bobby. What was going on? And what sort of case was their friend working on?
At the Aviary Hotel, Sam convinced the owner to let them rent Bobby's room and several other rooms in the same area, ensuring that they would be the only ones in the hallway for the next week or so since they didn't know how long it would take to figure out the case Bobby was working on.
"So what sort of case do you think Bobby was working on?" Morgan asked as they entered the room and began searching for anything that could help them.
"No idea, man," Dean answered, searching the drawers, which were completely empty. "It could be the Menae for all we know."
"It isn't," Liz informed them, looking under the bed and finding nothing, not even dust bunnies. "I asked around and there's nothing to even hint at their involvement, plus Bobby would've called us if it had been them."
Sam went over to the closest, concerned by the lack of research, and opened it, revealing Bobby's clothes. He turned on the light and then grinned. "Over here, guys." And he moved the clothes out of the way and on the wall behind them were the news clippings, maps and pictures they were looking for. There were pictures of roots, mushrooms, seeds and a map where Bobby had written "Pittsburgh" in big letters and underlined it. There were post-it notes with addresses and numbers, and there was a piece of paper about a plant.
Dean chuckled. "Good old Bobby, always covering up his tracks."
"You make heads or tails of any of this?" Liz asked.
Dean took one of the papers about a plant and read the title of it. ""Silene capensis", which, of course, means absolutely nothing to me."
"Here, obit," Sam said, taking a newspaper clipping and read from it as he skimmed it. "Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, university neurologist."
"How'd he bite it?" Dean asked.
Sam checked the obit. "Um…actually, they don't know. They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up."
Liz took the clipping from him, reading it herself. "That sounds familiar to you?"
"Sounds just like Bobby," Penelope said with a shiver.
Sam agreed, thinking. "Alright, um…so let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something-"
Dean, who was now looking at the clipping, looked up at him. "That started hunting him."
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
"Okay," said Hotch, taking control. "Until we know for sure what it is that we're dealing with, we stick together in pairs and not go anywhere alone. Sam, Liz, I want you two to stay here with Reid, JJ, and Penelope, and see if you can make heads or tails of Bobby's research. Rossi and I will go talk with the local police, and Morgan, Dean, and Prentiss. I want you three to go talk to anyone who knew this doctor and what it was that he was working on."
Everyone agreed with the plan and set about getting to work.
University of Pittsburgh…
It annoyed Dean a bit when Morgan and Emily insisted on going through official channels to gain access to the late Dr. Gregg's office. But in the end they were granted access and were soon in the cluttered office space and were talking with his assistant, a young woman named Sanders, who was packing everything up, and had protested at first, until Emily explained that the other agent had fallen ill and they were covering the case for him and needed to familiarize themselves with the full details.
"So, Dr. Gregg studied sleeping disorders?" Morgan asked and Sanders nodded.
Dean noticed a book lying on the desk and picked it up, reading the title. "Dreams?"
"Yes, it was a part of the experiments he was running," Sanders answered. "And I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files."
"What sort of experiments?" Emily asked, exchanging a look with Dean and Morgan.
Sanders shrugged. "I don't really know to be honest, no one knew. Not the university, not anybody."
"Miss Sanders, we're gonna need to look through those files," Morgan requested, "and anything else that might be connected to Dr. Gregg's research."
"Will this have a negative impact on my school record?" Sanders asked, worried. "Because, I'm just a grad student and this was a gig to cover tuition."
"I'm sure that it won't, miss," Dean said reassuringly. "Now, about that research…"
Hotch and Rossi were leaving the local police station after talking with the local sheriff, who hadn't exactly been helpful, much to their annoyance, and were about to get into the SUV when Hotch's phone rang and he answered it. "Hotchner."
`"Hotch, its' Morgan,"` said Morgan's voice. `"We've been to Dr. Gregg's office and it looks like he did research on various sleeping disorders, plus dreams, and he was conducting experiments without the knowledge or approval of the university."`
"What sort of experiments?" Rossi asked since Hotch had put his phone on speaker.
`"Not really sure,"` Morgan admitted, `"but we do have his research and we're takin' it back to the hotel right now; maybe Reid can figure all of this stuff out since it looks like rocket science to me. What I'm sure of is that whatever he was researching, it's somehow connected to whatever Bobby was looking into."`
Hotch and Rossi exchanged a look, hoping that this would be the break they needed. "We'll meet you at the hotel, Morgan, and work on the research together."
`"Yes, sir."`
"Wow," Penelope said, staring at the growing pile of boxes, which were overflowing with research, "now that's a lot of research."
"No kiddin'," Dean agreed, rubbing his sore back. "This is gonna take forever to go through."
The others had to agree since even Reid was looking a bit overwhelmed by the extensive pile of boxes that were filled to the brim with papers, folders, and a lot of other stuff.
"Dr. Gregg's assistant found this, too," said Emily, handing Hotch a list of names. "Apparently, these students were taking part in the sleep studies he was conducting."
Hotch examined the list and then handed it over to Sam. "What'd you think?"
Sam took a look at the list and frowned. "I think Bobby has a copy of this same list." And he went to the wall, pulling off a tack a white sheet of paper. "Right here, and these are the same names, only Bobby had this one circled." And he pointed to a name on the list: Jeremy Frost.
"Garcia, look up everything that you can on this Jeremy Frost person," Hotch instructed and Penelope immediately went to work at her portable computers. "Morgan, why don't you, Liz, and Dean go talk to this Jeremy Frost and see what he knows about Dr. Gregg and the experiments he was conducting?"
"Sure thing."
Getting an address from the files, they went to the apartment complex that Jeremy lived in and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a young white man in his early twenties with messy brown hair and dark eyes opened the door, squinting at them. "Who're you?"
"Jeremy Frost, I'm Agent Derek Morgan and these are Agents Dean and Elizabeth Winchester," Morgan said and they showed him their badges. "We'd like to talk to you about the sleep study program you were involved in with Dr. Gregg."
Jeremy looked uncertain, but he let them in. "Oh, that's good. For a second I thought you were with RA or something about those ferns I was growing a few days ago. So what do you want to know about Dr. Gregg? I know he died recently."
"Yes, we're aware of that," Morgan said, holding up a folder. "We know that you were one of his test subjects."
Jeremy nodded and went to a nearby mini-fridge. "Yes, yes I was." He then opened the fridge and pulled out four beer bottles; he held them up a bit, motioning as a question. "Unless you're on duty or whatever?"
Both Morgan and Liz politely refused, but Dean accepted the offer.
"I guess I can make an exception."
He took the bottle, ignoring the looks that Morgan and Liz were giving him, and Jeremy grabbed the bottle opener. He opened his bottle as Dean opened his. They held up their beers to each other and then took a swig. Dean closed his eyes as he took in the beer, enjoying the taste. He gave a small smile before continuing with the interview.
"Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a, uh, "Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome"? Which means…?" he asked.
"Um…I, uh…I can't dream," Jeremy answered, struggling with how to explain his condition and Dean made a "huh" face. "I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of."
"What'd the doc give you?" Liz asked, interested.
"It's this yellow tea," Jeremy answered. "It…it smelled awful, tasted worse."
"What did it do?" Morgan asked.
Jeremy shrugged. "Just passed right out. And uh, I had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?"
"Totally," Dean agreed, forgetting that he was in character until Liz elbowed him and he quickly recovered. "I mean, no."
"That was it," Jeremy added. "I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't…like it. To tell you the truth…it kind of scared me." And Dean looked at him, thoughtful.
After asking Jeremy a few more questions and making a quick stop at the hospital to check on Bobby, who was still in the same coma, they returned to the motel to update the others.
"It must have been a serious bike accident to cause the kind of damage needed to prevent someone from dreaming," Reid remarked thoughtfully after hearing all that Jeremy had revealed about the sleep study and why he'd dropped out. "This tea he mentioned, it knocked him out?"
"Yeah, and apparently the dreams it gave him were really vivid and real," Liz added.
Sam, who'd been looking through the research, looked up. "And I think I know why. Considering what we know about Dr. Gregg's research…Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."
"How so?" JJ asked, glancing at the wall, which didn't make any sense to her.
Sam held up a picture of a plant from the folder. "This plant, Silene capensis, is also known as African Dream Root," he answered. "It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries."
"Let me guess," Dean teased. "They dose up, bust out didjeridus, and start kicking around the hackey."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Not quite. If you believe the legends, it's used for dream walking. I mean, entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads."
Liz raised her eyebrows. "I take it we believe the legends." And they shared a look.
"When don't we?" Sam agreed. "But dream-walking is just the tip of the iceberg." He then picked up a paper from the folder that contained info on the root and a drawing of it.
"What do you mean?" Hotch asked.
"I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo," Sam explained. "You take enough of it, with practice, and you can become a regular Freddy Krueger."
And this got a grimace from everyone except Rossi, who'd been the only one not to go head-to-head with the late Freddy Kruger last year.
"Is this the same Freddy Kruger that was attacking teens in their dreams?" Rossi asked and got several confirming nods. "And this root works on the same level?"
Sam nodded. "According to this, yes. Using this Dream Root, you can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, and you could turn good dreams bad."
"And killing people in their sleep?" Emily asked.
Sam nodded. "For example." And the others sighed, not liking the sound of that. "So let's say uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style."
"Somebody gets pissed at him," Dean cut in, "decides to give him a little dream visit, and he goes nighty-night."
"What about Bobby?" Liz asked, worried. "I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"
The others shrugged since that was a good question. "We don't know."
In the dream world, Bobby has managed to escape the crazed woman and ducked into a closest, where he was holding a door closed while the woman was banging on it, making it rattle.
She continued to scream and Bobby was panting, scared. He looked around for something to hold the door, and grabbed an old suitcase, which he used to brace the door shut, along with a broom, which he slid through the door handle and the handle of the suitcase.
He pressed his back to the door, trying to keep it closed as the woman continued attacking. `"Help me!"` he screamed desperately. `"Somebody help me! HELP ME!"`
A/N: And now I leave you all with a evil cliffy! "Smiles evilly." R&R everyone!
