A/N: This is the first story I've ever written! It is only peer reviewed by myself and Google, so I welcome constructive criticism. I'm just writing to get my creative juices flowing. Feel free to leave a review with your thoughts!

Fire.

Fire took away his mother, and now it was rolling through his body, setting his insides on fire, burning his bones into crisp ashes.

What's going on?

He couldn't keep track of his thoughts, they were speeding through his mind at a mile a minute. Nothing could be pinned down, nothing made sense.

Where's Dean? Dad?

A blast of pain went through him and a sound pounded through his brain, rocking his head. The sound faded off as the fire inside him dimmed slightly. Voices rang through the ruins that were his mind, whispers of wind that cooled his fevered head. The wind seemed frantic...It was looking for something.

"Da….Ex bag!?"

"I'm…...Ound it!…."

All at once, the fire in him ceased, as though water was sent rolling through his body, dousing the fire with cool rapids and stumbling waterfalls. Slowly, his hearing and sense of touch returned to him. He could feel rough carpet underneath him, could hear panting breaths and felt hands holding his own.

"Sam? Can you hear me?"

Dean.

Dean was outside this darkness that he was enveloped in, if only he could open his eyes and get out of the confines of this never-ending night.

"Sam, come on jerk, wake up!"

Dean was frantic, he could hear it in the way his voice was at a higher pitch, the way his voice cracked on the work 'jerk,' in how he could feel callused hands leaving their tight grip on his own hand and reappearing on his shoulders, shaking him gently.

"Sam." His father's voice rung out through the blackness. This was an order. "Open your eyes."

He regained movement of his eyes and opened them slowly at his father's demand. A thin sliver of light shown, and with a couple blinks, his eyes had adjusted to the light, and he could see a white face above him, green eyes wide and staring.

"Sam? You with me?"

He moaned, yet, he was feeling better with every second passing.

"Wha' happen'?" His voice came out hoarse and weak as he slurred his words.

Dean sighed in relief, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes.

"There was a witch Sammy, she hexed ya, but we found it. You're going to be just fine."

Sam let out a deep breath, he was so tired, he just wanted to sleep.

"You can rest now Sammy, you're okay now."

So he rested, safe in his brother's arms.