Disclaimer: Supernatural and Constantine belong to their respective owners. I wrote this purely for pleasure and make no profit by it. Some of the dialogue is lifted directly from the movie. The title and lyrics come from the Flyleaf song "Red Sam".

Timeline: Supernatural AU after "Everybody Loves a Clown". Begins at the beginning for Constantine. Also, includes a character found only in the deleted scenes of Constantine (didn't want anyone to get all huffy about there being an apparent OFC.)

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Sam was having another nightmare. It was the whimpering that woke Dean up, but as he rolled over to look at his brother, Sam's mad thrashing managed to tip the cot. That woke Vision Boy as his ass got dumped on the hard wood floor of Ellen's back room (which was more of a lean-to than an actual room, Dean had decided about five seconds after the woman showed them where they'd be staying).

The floorboards groaned in protest. "Jesus, Sam, are you ok?" Dean leaned over the edge of his own cot (careful not to overbalance and tip it).

"Ow!" Sam sat up, shoving the cot off of him and rubbing ruefully at his forehead. "Was that an earthquake?"

"No—that'd just be you falling out of bed. So, what was the dream about?"

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose like he did whenever he had a headache or was trying to think too hard. "I'm not sure. There was a woman, standing on top of a building. There's a cityscape below her. I…" His head shot up, worry in his eyes. "Dean, I think she's going to jump."

"Jump? Yeah, because that sounds supernatural." Dean rolled over on to his back, trying to get comfortable again on the narrow cot.

Sam huffed. "It's happened before—my visions showing us what looks like a suicide when really it was murder."

He was right—there'd been that kid, Max, in Michigan, the one like Sam, only able to move stuff with his mind. The kid had killed his father in what looked like a suicide and his uncle in an apparent accident before turning the gun on himself. Big, ugly mess and Sam still related to the kid too much. "Ok…did you see someone coming to push this woman?"

His brother had gotten the Army surplus cot righted and was now back on it, carefully positioned in the middle so as not to tip it again. More nose pinching. "No…she's alone on the roof, but there's something driving her, Dean, and it's not the desire to end her life. It's more like she's afraid of what could happen if she lived."

"Dude, still not seeing the difference here. Why don't you go back to sleep, and we'll deal with it in the morning."

"If my dream was right, we might not have until morning," he muttered, but he rolled over, turning his back to Dean. After only a handful of minutes, his breathing had fallen back into the deep regularity of real sleep. Only then did Dean let himself close his eyes as well.