I wish I owned Supernatural, but of course I don't. I'd sell my soul to own it though! Crowley appears. "Did someone say soul selling?" "Crowley go away, you're not even in this story!" Sighs. "Next time, love." Silly Crowley thinks I have a soul, I think we all gave up our souls so we wouldn't have to deal with the emotional drama of the show. Alright, all (terrible) jokes aside, here's my new fanfic! Set in season 2 with yellow eyes and psychic children running about. P.S. The title comes from lyrics from an Imagine Dragons song.

Dean snored loudly in the passenger seat as Sam was in the rare position of driving the Impala himself. Dean was still exhausted from their previous hunt. It should have been just simple salt and burn, but as usual, the spirits don't take too kindly to the idea of being out to rest.

Dean had gotten himself tossed around pretty good. When he told Sam to take the car, Sam figured he'd been hit pretty hard in the head. Sam smiled briefly at the thought of Dean forgetting his oddly strange fascination of his car, though it was short lived.

Sam put a hand to his head as a migraine started to roll in, –no, not a migraine.

"Oh, crap not now!" He tried to focus on the road so he could safely pull over while the vision subsided, but his ability to see became cloudy, as it began to morph into events to come.

He took a chance, and turned the wheel sharply, hoping not to go tumbling off the side of the road. For once in his life, he got lucky.

As he slowed the car to a stop, he felt the pain begin to intensify, and he couldn't even hear Dean calling his name.

The man entered his house looking upset. He set his car keys next to a photograph of himself and a girl.

They were both smiling, and her brown hair was tussled by the wind covering her earthly brown eyes. The man stared at the picture longingly.

He picked up the picture and held it close to his chest. He closed his watering blue eyes and set it down.

As he ran his hand through his hand through his spiky black hair, his sleeve rolled down revealing a tattoo in the shape of Ohio. The guy was drunk when he got it, don't judge.

He plumped himself down into his recliner and switched on the television. "Medina City Schools closed due to water main break"flashed across the bottom of the screen.

He leaned forward in his chair, and set his face in his hands. His breaths came in shakily.

He shut off the television, unable to find an escape for his pain. He stood up unsteadily.

As he started to walk towards his room, he suddenly crashed to the ground with a scream. He began thrashing frantically as large gashes started to appear across his body. His body jerked in spams attempting to stop the pain.

Blood started seeping through his clothes, and his thrashing became weaker and he uttered one last whisper.

"I'm sorry, Rose." Then all resistance stopped, and a final breath escaped him.

"Sammy? Sammy? Sam! C'mon man, answer me!"

Sam felt his brothers hands clutched around his shoulders shaking him lightly. The ache in his head began to dissolve. He groaned as his mind settled back into reality.

"Dean?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me." He smiled, relieved to see his brothers eyes open. "What the hell was that?"

Sam sighed, not responding in hopes that his reluctance would tell Dean what Sam didn't want to say.

"Was it a vision?" Dean asked, although he was positive of the answer. Sam nodded slowly.

"What happened?" Dean prompted. Sam's visions always lead to someone dying and Dean couldn't let that happen. Sam took a pained breath.

"There was man… he went into his house and then… it was like something was attacking him, but I couldn't see anything."

"Was there anyone else there? Your visions always have something to do with the dem-"

"I said I didn't see anyone else Dean! If someone was in there with yellow eyes, don't you think I would have mentioned it?" Sam snapped. His visions always took a lot out of him and he didn't like having to think about the horrors he'd just seen. He missed when he could ignore them, he missed them being just nightmares.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

Sam pushed his hand through his hair and nodded carefully as not to trigger another headache.

"There was a picture of a woman… Rose I think… He got really upset when he saw it… maybe she had just died and they hadn't parted on the best of terms… so she maybe she came back." He spoke with long pauses trying to catch his breath.

"Any idea where it happened?"

"Yeah he, uh, had this… tattoo of Ohio on his arm… and there was something on the news… about 'Medina schools' or, something."

"Alright, Sammy, scoot on over. I'll get us there."

Sam huffed out an irritated breath. "I'm fine, Dean, I can still drive."

Dean gave him an, "I'm older than you, so do what I say" look.

"Sammy, I know these things take a lot out of you and if you don't let me take the wheel, I will shove your ass in the backseat if I have to. Now scoot."

Sam shot him a glare, but he complied and Dean started to climb out of the car and over to the front seat.

"See if you can get some rest." Dean instructed.

Sam would have argued, but his weariness had begun to set in so he closed his eyes, and felt sleep overcome him.

We always have to have that awkward, slightly boring intro before it can get good, and I promise it will get awesome! I shouldn't take too long to update the story. I've got a long weekend ahead so maybe I'll be done before the week is out! Thanks for reading my friends!