I wrote this oneshot quite a while ago, but just realized I never threw it up here. Eh, why not? I know the Master Kripke has something else planned -cross fingers we'll see it in s4- but for now our imaginations will just have to run away with us.

There are no spoilers, of course unless you haven't seen anything from the pilot up until All Hell Breaks Loose Pt1...in that case WELCOME TO THE SHOW! Lol...

None of these peeps are mine. If they were, you would never see the lovable huggable Dean ever again.


She shivered, the chill working its way up her arms and down her back, raising her flesh with a painful, stinging sensation. When had the house ever been this cold? She had remembered arguing with her husband right before they had gone to bed. He had turned the heat up, trying to be mindful of her and the baby with the chill of the late winter. She had quietly reminded him that she over-heated as it was, and preferred the coolness of a heat-free bedroom.

She wasn't quite sure when she had gotten out of bed, but now she stood at the edge of the hallway, hugging her arms around her chest as another shiver rippled through her. The passage before her was pitch black, and she wondered why her eldest son's night light wasn't lighting the way like it usually did. There was something about the blackness, an ominous warning to what lay at the end of the hallway, that made her stop. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard.

A baby's cry echoed off the walls, something she was surprised to hear. Her son had just turned four, he no longer cried like that. She had about another three months before she was to give birth to her next child. Absently she let her hand fall to her stomach, expecting it to fall onto the usual bump that held her precious little boy. Her husband swore up and down they were going to have a little girl, but she knew in her heart she was going to have another son.

Instead of the usual bump, her hand hit air and came to rest on the flat plains of an unfamiliar stomach. No, that wasn't possible! Even though she had only been six months along, the child within her had grown larger than normal since the fifth month, but she couldn't complain. Even her parents believed pregnancy suited her and she looked healthy, glowing, and full of life, even with a basketball for a stomach.

Now her child was gone. A panic she'd never known seized her, driving her down the long dark hallway, following the child's cry to their half-finished nursery. The door was slit open, allowing the barest hint of light forth. The child's cry continued, becoming angrier by the second.

Carefully she openly placed her palm on the smooth wood, wincing when the contact burned her skin. The air was frigid cold, but the door was hot to the touch. What was going on? Ignoring the pain, she pushed the door the rest of the way open.

A dark silhouette stood above the crib against the wall, the crib she had yet to buy. The figure strangely resembled her husband, but the sight of it unnerved her.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice sounding strange in her own ears.

The figure slowly turned. The small, moon-shaped child's lamp blinked furiously from the wall. It was enough to illuminate the whole room, but not enough to reveal the figure's features.

Instead, bright yellow eyes swireled with a sickly brown stared her down from a pitch black face. She gasped, her hand coming to rest at the base of her throat as she took a step back.

"He will be mine," the figure hissed in a voice that was low and husky, it definitely wasn't not human.

"You can't have him," she defiantly returned. Instinctively she knew that child in the crib was hers, her missing son, she also knew this figure meant to take him from her.

"You cannot stop me," it grinned. She saw a flash of white teeth, distorted by lips twisted into a wicked sneer.

"You're messing with the wrong mother," she said, putting more bravado in her voice than what she felt. Truth was she was terrified, but it amazed her that she wasn't scared of the thing in front of her, she was scared for her children. Another cry sounded in the crib, and it strengthened her resolve. She stepped forward, but was forcefully thrown back against the wall.

"Oh really?" the being chuckled. "Maybe you are the one who is messing with the wrong person. In nine months time, I will come for your son. You will have no say in the matter, and you will not be able to stop me. And when the time comes, when he is fully mature, he will come to me."

"You will not get near him," she repeated, anger coursing through her veins as she struggled against the wall. How dare this thing threaten her family.

"You still do not seem to understand," the figure repeated, slowly, its voice dropping even further as it began to grow angry. "You will have no say in the matter. Interrupt me or try to stop me in any way, and you will not live to see the child's first birthday."

Images flashed in front of her as she was thrown from one world to the next. She saw herself, on the ceiling, staring down at the child she had yet to hold. Then, she was on the ceiling. Her stomach felt as if it had been ripped open, and she was guessing it had judging by the alarming amount of blood dripping down onto her beautiful baby boy. Fire erupted from behind her, boiling her blood as it consumed her.

"Mary! Mary!"

The deep soothing voice, the voice belonging to her beloved husband, soothed the fire and overshadowed the eerie yellow eyes. She continued to thrash against the ceiling, the fire still too hot for her to stand.

Don't come in here! she wanted to cry out. I don't want you to see me like this!

But maybe he could save their son.

"John!"

"Mary, wake up!"

The flames hungrily licked at everything in its path, catching the edge of the crib, lighting the soft blue blanket. She closed her eyes, she didn't want to see her son as he was consumed by the flames that slowly reached out for him. John wasn't going to make it in time. Sammy was helpless, trapped in the crib, and she could do nothing to stop it.

"Mary!" The last shout sounded and her eyes snapped open.

"John?"

"Are you alright?" His concerned face floated above her, his eyes glittering in the low moonlight that filtered in through the sheer curtains.

"John?" She could say little else as she gasped for breath, raising slowly up so she was propped on her elbows.

"Mary? Are you with me?"

"I think I just had a nightmare," she finally answered, sighing. "It was nothing."

A drop of sweat trekked its way down her cheek, and John reached forward and lovingly wiped it away.

"That was one hell of a nightmare," he smiled, rubbing his thumb across her jaw as he let his knuckles brush her cheek. "You want to tell me about it?" His hand moved lower until it rested on the top of her full stomach.

She laughed, almost embarrassed. "I honestly don't remember." She remembered flashes of yellow eyes and a baby crying. But that was nuts, right? "I'm sure I'm just nervous about the birth."

John nodded, equally nervous. It had been a dream pregnancy so far, everything had gone to plan. The baby was just a bit bigger than Dean had been. "Well, Dean went smoothly, so will Samantha."

Mary laughed at the memory, snuggling as John laid back down beside her and drew her into his arms. "Dean was ready for the world. He made sure to let me know he was ready, and he came out at full speed."

"He'll be a great leader some day, and an awesome big brother," John said, his voice already dropping with sleep. "Even now he wants to be ruler of the world."

"Someday, he will be. Oh, and by the way John," Mary said with a slight grin as she anticipated starting one of their favorite arguments. "We're having a boy."

.:.SN.:.

The light at the end of the hallway flickered. It was a brand new light bulb, she had just replaced it yesterday. Eyes slit against the brightness of the light, she approached the offending lamp. Tapping it lightly with her finger, she tilted her head in confusion as it stopped. She'd have to talk to John tomorrow about checking the wiring.

Since said husband was already up and taking care of Sam, she was going back to get some rare, much needed sleep.

Another flickering light and gunfire caught her attention as she turned to walk back into her room. They'd left the TV on? Maybe John had been up catching a late night movie, he had a bad habit of doing that lately. That would also explain why he'd been up to hear Sammy.

Creeping down the stairs, her lecture to John already forming in her mind about staying up late to watch bad television, she stopped at the bottom. Fear slammed into her, and bile rose in her throat. John was asleep, reclined in the chair, his figured shadowed against the black and white backdrop of the old war movie. Well then who...

She braced herself as she whirled around, using the handrail for leverage as she propelled herself up the stairs. "Sammy!" she called as she ran up the stairs. "Sammy!" Her cries grew more frantic as she hit the landing and sprinted down the hallway. She threw open the door, coming face to face with a pair of yellow eyes.

A nightmare she'd had eight months ago came slamming back to her. "Its you," she said quietly, not quite being able to believe her eyes. No, that hadn't been real, that was just a nightmare! She stepped forward, her baby the only thing on her mind.

She gasped as she hit the wall, her breathing sped up. Her feet fought for purchase as she was lifted, sliding against the wall, painful gasps emanating as her body felt as though it was being torn in two.

She slid along the ceiling, coming to stop directly above the shadow with yellow eyes. "What did I try to tell you Mary?" it hissed, the voice low and ominous, just as she remembered. How had she forgotten? How was this really happening?

An unseen hand caressed her cheek as a white hot pain spread across her abdomen, eliciting a scream that tore through her center. With a bird's eye view, she watched helplessly as her husband came running into the room, calling out her name. He looked around, sighing as he failed to spot any immediate threats.

He approached the crib, cooing softly to their son. Slowly, a crimson drop descended, landing right next to Sam's head. John reached forward and fingered the spot, only to have three more land on his hand.

Don't do it John, Mary silently cried. Her mind was slowly shutting down, and she could no longer form words with her heavy lips. Don't look up! Don't see me like this! She just wanted him to grab the baby and run. She knew what was coming next.

John's head swung upwards, shock sending him immediately to the floor. "No! Mary!" he called out, horror etched in his features. He continued to stare in shock and horror, and she desperately wanted to tell him everything would be alright, but all she could do was gape, gasping for her next breath. Sadly she knew she would never get the chance to speak to her husband again, to tell him how much she loved him.

The dream played out like a demented case of déjà vu, and the intense burning from the large gash in her stomach was replaced by flames bursting behind her. Keeping her gaze steadily on her husband, she ignored the fire slowly eating away at her body, stealing her life, her future. Sam screamed as the fire spread, spurring John into action.

He rushed from the room, the baby tucked safely in his arms.

"Now Dean, go!"

Her family was safe, they would make it out. She wouldn't see Sam's first birthday, but he would live to see his own. Her dream wasn't going to completely play out after all.

Before the flames swallowed her whole, before her whole world was consumed by red hot flames and the fumes of her own burning flesh and hair, she saw the love of her life run back into the room, screaming her name.

No John!! She saw nothing else as her world was consumed, gone in a flash of black.


Coooooome on S4! -grin-

Kris