Hello everyone! This is my Secret Santa present to Refur! ...yes I do realize it's a tad bit late and the whole thing isn't even posted. But there are only two parts and the second part will be posted tomorrow. So I guess it's more of a "Happy Boxing Day!" than a "Merry Christmas!"
And my personal apologies to Refur. But hopefully this is what your were looking for. Part of the reason why it took me so long was that I originally had three different outlines and I had to choose of how exactly I wanted this story to go. So please tell me what you think.
Part 1:
It wasn't his mom. The dark hair and ethnic skin gave that much away, plus the small mole on her right cheek. But she was pinned to the ceiling the same way his mom was.
Blood dripped from her stomach as she breathed her child's name.
He knew what was going to happen. The horrifying tale of the demon had been engraved in his mind since he was a toddler. But as fire spewed from behind the woman, flames scorching her frail skin, Sam suddenly knew with a sickening clarity what exactly his mom had endured.
Unable to look away, he continued to stare up at the dying woman., somehow knowing there was nothing he could do for her.
The fire demon claimed one more victim. And for the second time in his short life, Sam had front row seats.
"Sammy!"
The scenery flashed rapidly between the horror-struck woman and his own dingy ceiling.
"Sam, wake up!"
Finally getting out of the demon's hold, Sam snapped open his tear-filled eyes. The image of the burning mother scorched in his brain, Sam merely looked at his own ceiling, not believing it was merely a dream. In all of his fourteen years, he couldn't remember ever having such a vivid nightmare.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty."
Snapping out of his trance, Sam rolled his head to the side to find his brother packing his clothes into his well-worn backpack. The image only meant one thing: his dad must have found another lead on the demon and they were off…once again. And by the looks of it, Sam didn't even have time to say goodbye to all of his newly made friends.
The picture of the dying woman still fresh in his mind, Sam couldn't muster the energy to complain about leaving his school and friends behind. His dad wouldn't have listened to him anyway. Sam merely groaned, mentally preparing himself for another long day in the car with Dean.
Hearing the moan, Dean picked up Sam's large gym bag and tossed it on the boy. "Get packing," he ordered, never bothering to look up from his own backpack. "Dad wants us ready in ten minutes."
"'Nother lead?" Sam slurred as he stretched his worn muscles. He already knew the answer, but it never hurt to ask. His tired mind refused to believe that the demon struck the same night he envisioned the demon's damage.
"Yeah. Only the next state over too." Dean commented as he zipped up his backpack. He carelessly slung it over his shoulder and headed towards the door. "Seriously, Dude, Dad's gonna be pissed if you're not ready in ten minutes, so hurry it up," he warned as he closed the door.
True to Dean's word, seven minutes later, John's voice echoed down the hall. "Sam, get a move on it!"
Stuffing his last sweater into the bag, Sam muttered, "Ten minutes my ass."
As if impossibly hearing Sam's disrespectful comment, John yelled louder, "Sam!"
Sam rolled his eyes. Leave it to his dad to have the ears of a bat. "Coming!" he called as he jogged down the hallway. Sam wasn't surprised to see his father already walking out the door with Dean close behind, like his father's personal lap dog. Catching up to the two of them, Sam fell in tow with Dean. As he walked towards the car, he instantly noticed the newspaper clutched under Dean's arm. "'Electrical fire?'" he genuinely asked. Nothing else seemed to spark the need for such a sudden hunt. The Winchesters learned long ago that an 'electrical fire' in a nursery usually meant the demon was close by.
"As always," Dean answered with a click of the tongue. Sensing Sam's interest, he handed the paper over as he threw his belongings in the back seat.
Sam flipped the paper over, his eyes immediately going wide with horror. He didn't need to read the text or her name. He had already seen enough.
It was the same woman from his dream. Same thick hair. Same dark skin. Same cute, little mole on the right cheek.
Sam barely made it to the grass before he threw up.
-:-
It was a week after Thanksgiving and Sam was still eating turkey. Dean entered a chicken wing eating contest at the nearest greasy spoon restaurant. Dean ate seventy-five chicken wings and won a twenty-five pound turkey. Which was kind of ironic, considering after that night Dean had sworn off all poultry. Sam couldn't blame him though. He had almost gotten sick just watching his brother scarf down all those wings.
Sam and Dean had just gotten back from school, only to find the dingy apartment empty. Sam decided to make himself a sandwich, while Dean conveniently found something else to do in his bedroom, away from the smell of turkey.
Sandwich in hand, Sam sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out his latest math assignment. Honors Algebra II was a real bitch. It didn't help he was one out of three freshman in the class, making him an easy target for snide remarks. He slowly chewed his turkey and mustard sandwich as he flipped through the pages, finding his latest assignment. Complete the Square…great, because he was just hoping he could spend two hours on his math homework that night. Rolling his eyes, Sam pulled out his notebook and labeled the top of the page.
As he managed to complete the first three problems, he finished his turkey sandwich. Crumpling the paper plate into a ball, he tossed his garbage in the nearby trashcan, never moving from his seat.
The moment the garbage hit the trashcan dead on, Dean appeared in the doorway. "You should try out for the NBA. Who knows? You may still have a growth spurt or two left in you."
Sam glanced up at his brother, unable to hide his smile. He was already almost as tall as Dean, another growth spurt would definitely put him over the edge. Clearing his throat, he swallowed his last bit of turkey with a swig of coke. "Do you have like a turkey-free sensor or something?" Sam sarcastically asked as he started the fourth problem.
"I don't know what your talking about," Dean answered as he casually sat down in the chair across from Sam.
Sam smirked at Dean's response as he worked out the ridiculously long equation. "You always manage to disappear whenever there's poultry around. Only to show up again the moment it's gone."
Dean simply raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "You're crazy."
"Yeah, whatever," he shrugged, focusing back on the problems in front of him. As Sam jotted down the problem, the paper blurred in front of him. Squinting, he tried to get his eyes to focus, only to have the numbers shift and double.
"You need glasses there, Sammy?" Dean grinned, completely oblivious to Sam's confusion. "It would complete the whole geek setup you have there."
He didn't bother to answer his brother's comment. He was too busy trying to get his eyes to work. The paper disappeared as a bright white light flashed before his eyes.
A searing pain attacked his brain. It was as if someone had reached into his head and was pulling his brain apart bit by bit. "Ahh…" he groaned as he grabbed the bridge of the nose, trying to control the sharp throb.
The sarcasm instantly left Dean's voice. "Sammy?"
God, what the hell was going on? He had read about aneurysms in his biology class, but he never imagined one would be so painful. Plus, he was too young and healthy to have an aneurysm…wasn't he?
It felt like his nerve endings were being ripped apart. Bunching his fist, he cracked his pencil in half and pounded on the table. "God…my head…" Sam breathed. He instantly felt warm hands around him, guiding him front the chair and onto the floor.
And in a flash the pain was gone.
Dean was there, but they weren't in their apartment anymore. He knew that much. It was too dark and damp for it to be their apartment. Dean was on the floor, staring up at him, but not really seeing him. He seemed to be looking straight through him, as if he was…
That was when he noticed the blood. It was a single shot wound in the chest. Dark blood was pooling beneath Dean. But Dean was unaware, he wasn't even blinking.
Please, dear God, not Dean. Anyone but Dean.
The scene shifted with a bright light. For a moment, he thought maybe he was dying too.
With a gasp, Sam opened his eyes. For the first time in what seemed to be forever, he could see everything clearly. Dean was right in front of him, worry plastered all over his face. But Sam didn't care, because Dean was looking straight at him and there was life in his eyes. "…Dean," Sam whispered as he lunged at his brother and wrapped his arms around.
Quickly returning the gesture, Dean breathed, "God, Sammy. What just happened?"
-:-
"A vision? As in a premonition?" Disbelief licked Dean's voice. They always said there was a thin line between genius and insanity, he just never thought Sam would cross it.
Shifting his feet beneath himself on the couch, Sam continued to look at his hands. "Look, I know how it sounds but…" Sam trailed off, his logic trailing with it. "I don't know how to describe it. It just felt so real." As he breathed the last word, he looked up, his eyes still bright with tears. The vision may have been a bitch to deal with and even worse to see, but if it meant he could save his brother he would do it again in a heartbeat.
Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. Only in his freaky ass family would a premonition seem plausible. "As real as the dream with the demon?" He had almost forgotten about the trail they followed a couple months back. They had traveled five hours only to find a grieving family with questions that were never going to be answered.
"Even more," Sam answered in earnest.
There was no way Sammy was having premonitions. Not under Dean's watch. If Sam started to have visions, that meant he wasn't normal. Sure the kid may have been a bit strange, but he was Sammy, Dean's little brother, and that meant he was normal. "Goddammit Sammy! Why didn't you tell me about this beforehand?!" Dean screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. If he knew about it earlier then maybe there was something he could have done to stop it. Stop Sam from being something beyond normal…in a realm they dealt with everyday. In a realm he hunted everyday.
Pulling his lanky frame closer to himself, Sam softly answered, "I thought it was just a coincidence." He knew Dean was lashing out because he was worried, but that didn't make it any less scary.
Running his hands through his hair, Dean yelled in disbelief, "You should know better than to think there are coincidences in this family!"
Sam instantly jumped to his feet. "Exactly!" he shouted, finding his inner courage. "I saw you dead today for a reason! We have to stop it!"
Dean opened his mouth to respond but was instantly cut off by the sound of the key entering the door. "That's Dad," he whispered, moving closer to Sam. "Don't say anything about this to him." He didn't know how his father would feel about young Sammy having premonitions about demons and death. Hell, he didn't know how he felt about.
Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. How was his father going to help them if he didn't know about it? "But-" Sam instantly closed his mouth at Dean's look of don't-make-me-kick-your-ass. Shaking his head incredulously, Sam stormed off to his room and slammed the door behind him.
John opened the door to the sound of another door slamming. Without even looking, he knew who was behind it. "What's his problem now?" he sighed, turning towards his oldest son.
"Got me," Dean shrugged, the lie easily slipping off his lips.
