Hey everyone, well it's been a long long time since I wrote a fanfic, but I was inspired. Sam and Dean are so drool worthy... dreamy sigh . Obviously I don't own 'em, other wise I'd keep 'em hidden away... hey, I don't like to share:P Anyway, hope you find it interesting, love you heaps if you R&R, come on, you know you want too!
On with the show!
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The steady silence was broken intermittently by the sound of an unidentified liquid dripping, splashing gently as it fell onto a surface unknown.
He couldn't quite identify the direction of the noise as he stumbled around in what seemed like an endless darkness, it seemed to echo, coming from no fixed point. It was an annoying sort of noise; the type that would pause for so long he would believe it had stopped, only to have it continue as soon as the thought has passed through his mind.
Drip…
His mind ached terribly, and the more he attempted to ignore the almost hypnotising dripping, the more he could feel a large pressure building. More intense with each second, he wanted to fall to the ground, to clutch at his head in agony, but it was if something held him in place. He couldn't move, couldn't try and shield himself from the pain that began to roll over him, wave after wave. He vision flashed white, he felt blinded, it was like being struck by lightening and the heat was unbearable.
Drip… drip…
And then it was gone; the pain, the heat, everything.
He was standing in what looked to be a nursery, filled with toys and love. He could see a cot in the far corner of the room, shrouded in shadow, with a gently rotating mobile hanging above it like a watchful guardian.
Drip… drip… drip…
The sound came louder now, closer, more distinct. Drawn by curiosity, he moved towards the small cot, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He jolted, drawing back as he realised a man stood beside the cot, crooning softly, muttering words he could not hear. He approached slowly, careful not to startle the man, but soon realised it did not matter, the man did not seem to acknowledge his presence.
Drip…
The sound came from inside the cot and taking his eyes off the man's back, he peered past him. As he gazed upon the small infant, a niggling feeling in the back of his mind told him that this was all too familiar, but he brushed it aside. The baby kicked fretfully, voicing a tiny wail of discomfort and scrunching up its face. Staring at the infant's unhappy face, he was surprised to see a small black droplet fall from the darkness above to land on its lips. Only as the drop slid into the child's mouth did he realise it wasn't black at all, but a deep, morbid crimson.
Drip… drip…
More drops of the red liquid fell and the baby wiggled franticly, as if trying to get away. He shifted his eyes back to the man; surely he too had seen the red liquid. To his horror, a pair of awful milky-yellow eyes lay where normal human eyes should have, staring down into the cot.
"That's it little one, drink up… drink up." The man's voice carried with it an undertone of evil.
Following the direction of those yellow eyes, he saw that the man was holding his right arm steady over the cot, rigid and with his fist curled into a ball. He flinched as he saw a deep gash running the width of the man's wrist, blood welling up and over flowing, dripping onto the child's lips, into its mouth.
Blood…
Blood that wasn't quite human…
The blood of something evil, monstrous…
Demon's blood…
Drip… drip…
"You're mine now, little one, my perfect little soldier. You'll be the most dangerous yet, the strongest, with my blood running through your veins." The man… demon, he realised, smiled, "No one can stop me, no one can get in the way, or they'll pay the price with their lives."
He shivered, backing away from the demon…what was happening, why was he here?
"One day, little one, you'll come into your full potential and destroy all that you love, anyone you have ever cared about, and then you'll come crawling to me, seeking the answers you so sorely need. And then, then you will lead my army."
Full potential? An army?
…anyone you have ever cared about…
…they'll pay the price with their lives…
Turbulent memories came flashing back…
Drip…
Mom…
Drip…
Jess…
Drip…
Dad…
Drip…
Dean…
Dean… the only one he has left…
…anyone you have ever cared about…
…they'll pay the price with their lives…
Dean…
"No!" Sam shouted, bolting upright in bed, his eyes darting around the room.
His eyes landed on Dean's sleeping form lying in the bed next to his. Dean grunted in his sleep and rolled over, facing the door of the dingy motel and continued to snore, apparently undisturbed by Sam's rather loud exclamation.
He head ached terribly; it always did after these nightmares. Sam rubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake the panic of his nightmare away. Ever since he discovered he had demon blood in him, he'd been having these nightmares, of Mom, Dad and Jess, and of Dean dying. And coupled with the deal Dean had made with the crossroads demon, his stress levels were so high he'd hardly been sleeping at all.
Sliding out of bed, he silently made his way to the motel room's bathroom, closing the door and switching on the light. He grimaced at the hideously yellow tiles that lined the bathroom, reminding him of the demon's eyes, such a disgusting colour he thought. Beggars can't be choosers though, this was as much as he and Dean could afford at the moment, and pickings at the local bar had been rather slim. Even Dean, a self proclaimed expert, could only hustle so much from so few people without looking suspicious. And let's face it; Dean was never very subtle in the first place.
Shaking his head, he turned the tap on, splashing cold water over his face. Filling up a glass of water, he popped a couple of aspirin, hopefully they'd take the edge off his headache. Gripping the basin, he looked up into the mirror, staring at his reflection. He was beginning to develop dark circles around his eyes, and the way his hair sat made him look half crazed. Sighing, he turned the stream of water off and made his way back into the main room.
Dean lay in the same position, still snoring rather soundly. Sam rolled his eyes, no use trying to get back to sleep with what sounded like a small jet-plane trying to take off in the room. Making his way over to where his trusty laptop was set up on a small coffee table, he sat down and prepared himself for another long night of research.
Glancing at the time, he realised it was just past midnight… any normal person would be sleeping right now. But then again, he wasn't quite normal was he… for that matter, he wasn't quite sure he was fully human either; if his nightmares were anything to go by… he brushed the thought aside.
Dean didn't need to know… how would he feel if he found out he had sacrificed his soul for something half-demon? Disgusted and horrified no doubt.
He spent his nights searching, searching for a way to save Dean, and for a way to save himself. He needed to find a sure-fire way to stop himself from going 'darkside' as Dean put it; he needed to keep Dean safe.
No matter what it took… he'd save Dean. From an eternity in hell, and from himself.
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Hmm, I finished this at 11pm, so hopefully it's understandable (pull me up on spelling errors guys, I need to know, lol) ... aww man, I've got so much homework... plus I've got work at 9am tomorrow, so I reckon I'm gonna head off to bed, lol. Hope you liked it so far, there'll be more of Dean in the next chappie... whenever I write it (don't hold your breath folks).
Excuse me now, I have to go salt all the windows and doors before I go to bed ;)
-Wolfy-
