Chapter 1: Fights and Nightmares

Sam stared at Dean with a disbelieving look. He raised his eyebrows in the way of his that he used to get Dean to reason with him.

"When are you going to get it, Sam? Dad's dead. So why's it important anymore what he told me? Why does any of it matter?" Dean waved at his head and stared the other direction as if to declare that this discussion was over.

"No!" Sam disputed, "You're the one who doesn't get it, Dean! Dad was everything to us! He was my…"

"What?" Dean barked, turning back to face Sam.

"My hero…" Sam stared down at his feet, a small teardrop clinging from his eyelid. He quickly wiped it away, before Dean could notice.

"What are you talking about?!" Dean couldn't believe his brother. He always caught the perfect time to start bawling like a baby, and make excuses to cover up all the times he had fought with dad, and not even once just admitting he was wrong and wave the problem away. No, his little brother decided to stick to his decisions like glue. It's as if he enjoyed making matters worse. Dean rolled his eyes and faced the opposite way. He couldn't bear to look at his brother falling apart anymore. Sam acted as though it were his fault dad was dead. He crossed his arms over his chest, his black leather jacket crunching as he did so; and stared off into the far distance, squinting at the slowly setting sun.

Sam just stared at the pavement, as if it would solve all of his problems. After a while, he walked away when he noticed Dean wasn't budging. He walked back to their little cabin and lay down on the bed, crossing his arms beneath his head, deep in his thoughts. Sleep dwindled in his eyelids and finally he nodded off, as the sun was low beneath the trees.

Dean awoke to a sudden, intense muttering. He rolled over to see Sam rolling around on his comforter on the other bunk bed, muttering under his breath, something about Dean. It looked like Sam was having a nightmare. Dean sighed. He wondered whether he should wake him up, but now that he was already up, he might as well. After a few minutes, Dean got up and shook Sam. He was still stirring and muttering angrily.

"Sam! Wake up!" Dean finally yelled.

He turned over, his eyelids wide open, and yelled, "Dean, you're still alive!"

"Calm down Sammy, it was just a nightmare…"

"Oh," Sam rubbed at his eyes furiously, examining his surroundings. "Nightmare," he repeated after Dean, drowsily. Then he had a sudden realization and felt fully awake, "Dean!"

"What is it?" Dean said calmly, still standing next to Sam's bed.

"It was a premonition, I was there, and so were you, and there was this weird ghoulish demon that said something weird in some weird language I don't understand and-"

"Slow down, Sam, I can't understand a word you're saying." Dean cut Sam off of his frantic gibberish, "Calm yourself, here I'll get you a glass of water."

When Sam was finally ready to explain, he began, "Ok. I remember clearly now. You and I were in some weird grayish room with a TV in the corner. That was it, otherwise it was bare. This ghoulish looking demon was floating in front of you and speaking in some foreign language…"

Dean looked at him thoughtfully, "What'd it sound like?"

"Like some sort of alien language. I wasn't familiar with it at all. There were some shrieks, and some weird mumbling-it might have not even been a language.

"Hmmm…then what happened?"

"Well, the demon was making all these peculiar noises- when suddenly there was some strange light escaping its mouth. It was green and ghostly. It looked as though it was breathing on you, then the TV starting making sounds, it had turned on, and only static showed. The creature seemed to be its power source. I think the green mist coming from its mouth, was powering it somehow…"

"And what were you doing while all of this was happening?"

"I was sort of just, well, standing there… I was shocked and surprised, you know?" Sam paused for a moment, "But I started screaming something, and then, you weren't there. You'd disappeared, in a matter of seconds. That's why, as you said, I might have been yelling 'Dean'."

"So this room didn't have any windows?" Dean rested his head on his leg.

"Now that you mention it…" Sam willed his mind, "yes, there was a window. It was to the left, and it's just a blur to me because I wasn't really paying attention to it."

"Well, do you remember any scenery, anything, a sign, or something with words- how are we supposed to know where this is?"

"It's…" Sam looked intensely through their cabin window, "Right over there!" He pointed his finger out the window to a tiny cottage that seemed deep in the unwelcoming forest, his eyes suddenly wide with fear.