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Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, more's the pity.

Setting: This is set after "Shadow" but before "Dead Man's Blood."

Author's Note: This story first appeared in the zine "Blood Brothers," which came out in May of 2007. It's not all that long, but I'm posting it in 3 0r 4 parts (this one is, I think, the shortest) because I realized that the final, final version that went in the zine had some late edits done that I never carried over to the copy on my computer. So I'm tweaking it when I get the time, and it should all be up in a week or so. Hope you like it!


IN THE MIND'S EYE

Chapter 1

It seemed somehow appropriate that the sun was going down, Ra's solar disk being eaten by the great serpent Apophis, the light dying and the dark spreading inexorably across the sky. His brother's light had died as well, lost not to the natural darkness of night but to the supernatural darkness of evil.

Sam Winchester turned from the window, fists clenched. It took all of his control not to smash them against something, anything. Right now, random destruction held a certain appeal. Unfortunately, Missouri Moseley wouldn't agree and might frown on his putting holes in the walls of her house.

He still wasn't sure why he'd come here.

Oh, hell, yes he was. Desperation. And panic. Sheer, total, absolute panic. The hunt hadn't gone well.

Hadn't gone well? Wow, Winchester, you certainly have a gift for understatement. The supernatural evil getting away, that's "hadn't gone well." Your brother being turned into a vegetable? That's a fucking disaster!

Sam had grabbed the unresponsive shell formerly known as Dean Winchester and raced for Kansas.

No hospitals. Modern medicine would have taken one look at Dean and locked him up for the rest of his life, to take care of him—right!—but there was no way Sam would permit Dean to be any more imprisoned than he already was. Somewhere in the back of his otherwise gibbering mind, Sam felt that if anyone could find a ray of hope in the situation, it would be someone with telepathy like Missouri's, not someone with the useless visions he had.

Because something in Sam clung to the hope—no, the need—that Dean was still in there somewhere, that somehow he could be reached.

Which was why, sometime around noon, Sam found himself pounding on Missouri's door, the Impala steaming behind him in the cool, late Fall air. He'd stumbled over his words, his desperation pouring out in waves, and Missouri had gently patted his cheek to calm him down and then waved him inside. Sam had scooped Dean into his arms from the front passenger seat and had gently carried his brother upstairs to the guest bedroom of the house.

That had been the last he'd seen of either Dean or Missouri and the wait, the silence, the worry, had worn Sam down to his last nerve. Night was coming and the sight of the encroaching darkness hit way too close to home.

The sound of solid footsteps descending the stairs froze Sam in mid-pace. He practically ran out of the small living room and arrived at the staircase just as Missouri reached the bottom. She looked tired but gave him a quiet smile, and Sam felt his heart leap.

She stilled his unborn question with a raised hand. "I'm exhausted, child. And you look ready to fall down yourself. We'll talk over some food."

Despite Sam's increasing impatience, Missouri said nothing more about Dean until she had cooked something up for both of them and they were seated and eating. Sam's earlier attempts to talk about the situation had been met by a warning that, "The spoon isn't only for Dean, boy!"

When they were finished and everything had been washed and put away, Missouri gestured for Sam to sit down again. She hung up her apron, wiped her hands on a dishtowel and came over to sit across the table from him. "You were right to come here, Sam. Dean's still in there."

For a moment, Sam had the horrifying feeling he was about to embarrass himself by bursting into tears. A gentle hand touched his and he raised his eyes.

Missouri gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand. "So, just to make sure, honey, you don't know what it was?"

Sam shook his head. "I had a vision of people being mentally attacked by something. Ripping their minds apart. We were just looking around the area where the attacks had occurred. We split up to cover more ground. I heard him yell, ran over and found him the way he is now."

He didn't seem to notice he was kneading his hands together. "I tried everything I could think of, but there was nothing. He hasn't moved on his own, made a sound, blinked, nothing, since I found him. I want my brother back, Missouri." He didn't care if he sounded like a very miserable five-year-old.

"Here it is, Sam: Dean's mind was attacked by whatever you were hunting. Dean knew he couldn't fight the attack off, so he did the only thing he could think of. He retreated and built a fortress. Barricaded himself in behind those walls and hunkered down for the duration."

Sam dropped his head in relief and smiled. "Then we just have to wait until he decides it's safe to come out."

"And how's he gonna to do that, boy? He couldn't leave even a tiny hole in the walls or the enemy could get in. So he's blind and deaf in there. He has no way of knowing it's all over. And time, it runs funny in the corners of your mind, child. Dean might think only a minute has gone by, not the almost two days it's been out here." Missouri caught and held his eyes. "And don't forget, in there he can build himself any world he wants. No more pain or worry or loneliness. His family together again, the way he's always wanted. Maybe he don't want to come back."

Sam sat frozen, words suddenly running around in his head. I'd go back to school. Be a person again. He snorted. A person. As if Dean, for whom hunting was what he wanted to keep doing, was something other than a "person." And after going almost four years without any contact with his brother, it was no wonder Dean didn't believe they could still be a family if Sam went back to being "normal." He hadn't realized the depth of the problem back in Chicago, or how condescending he'd sounded and since then, the time hadn't been right to bring it up again--with Dean always fleeing at the first hint of a "chick flick moment"--or to relieve Dean's fears.

If he got Dean back from this, no way would he let any time go before he straightened things out between them.

Sam leaned forward and met Missouri's eyes. "You can do it. You can go in and tell him it's time to come out."

She shook her head. "And what makes you think he would let me in, boy? I'm not his favorite person in the world, Sam, and I don't think he trusts me enough to take my word for it." She held his eyes. "You know you're the only one here he would believe. You and your father, and John ain't around. As usual." The last was muttered softly. "I could guide you in, Sam. But, before you say yes, it ain't just gonna be a stroll around the park. Your brother might have some defenses out. And you could end up trapped in there yourself. Think about it carefully before you decide."

Sam smiled. "There's nothing to think about, Missouri. If there's a chance to get Dean back, it doesn't matter how risky it is. I have to try. Dean would never let me stay in there, if things were reversed."

She leaned back and nodded, then she patted his hand and stood up. "Some things I gotta do first, child. Then we go get your brother back."

A/N: So, how's it going so far? Chapter 2 as soon as I can.