Title: When Memories Become Nightmares
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Everything was dark. Too dark. He reached for the light before remembering he would wake everyone up. He rolled over, trying to hold his breath and calm his breathing. The dark was just overwhelming. He slid from under the covers and snuck to the bathroom. He shut the door and flipped the switch. As the light filled the small room he relaxed. The nightmare was a warning. One week left. He slid down the door and sat on the cold tile. It happened every year, and every year he got better at hiding it. In the bright light of the bathroom his mind eased and he fell back asleep. His eyes fluttered open as he heard the bed creak. A heavy foot landed on the floor. His dad was up. He stood and opened the door. The faint light of dawn was what he had been waiting for. He slid into the bed and closed his eyes. 'Sweet dreams kiddo.' He smiled when his dad rubbed his head as he walked by to the bathroom.
A few hours later he felt a voice calling him from sleep. 'Get off me Sammy.' He rolled over away from the shoving. 'Dean. Get up.' His dad's voice wiped away any sleep. He pushed off the flat mattress and looked around the room. His dad was hunched over his journal and Sam was staring at the wall. It had been a long week and neither of the boys had gotten much sleep. Their dad had let them sleep in it was strange, but from the look on his face they needed their rest. Today was going to be it. Dean glanced over at Sam. It was one of the first hunts he'd been on. Dean's gaze shifted when he felt eyes on him. 'You sleep?' He nodded. His dad knew, after all he had held his son through the earliest ones. He didn't understand why his oldest was so secretive about the nightmares with his brother. 'Let's get going.'
It was well into the afternoon. The shadows were growing longer and Dean was getting tense. Each day leading up to the fire the dreams got worse. He felt something move beside him and reacted. The snarling creature slid over him, he felt the wind it made breeze across his face. A second later he was on his back screaming. His arms were guarding his face. He felt teeth biting his arms and another scream bubbled up. He hoped his dad was nearby. He squirmed under the large thing and tried to move so he could fight back or something. He kicked up, but hit nothing but air. The teeth on his arm dug in and he groaned. His arms were growing weak from fighting off the bulking shape. Another clench and he felt something break. He couldn't resist crying out. It only took one quit twist and he was defenseless. One arm rested on his face, still trying to keep it from him, the other was cradled against his chest. His shoulder screamed as it was gripped tightly. He heard a faint voice call his name and his eyes flew open. He hadn't even realized that he had shut them. No. Not Sam. A gunshot. A quick pulse on his shoulder then there was nothing. He rolled on his side gripping his shoulder with his good arm. His other was a lost cause. He knew a hospital stay was in his future. He felt something touch his hand and he flinched. 'Its me.' He looked up at the wide eyes of his brother and smiled. The light continued to fade. He looked toward his brother and saw something come up behind him. 'Sam!' The young boy turned quickly. 'Calm down Dean.' His father's voice was soft. Sam backed away and Dean was pulled up into his dad's arms. 'Let's get you looked at.'
The hospital was dark. He fought the pain medication but it didn't seem to be doing any good. His eyes grew heavier with every second. He couldn't fall asleep the nightmare would come. His dad had taken Sam home hours ago. There was no threat of being found out, but his worry over the actual dream was bad. He had asked for the light to be left on, but the nurse had just looked at him in pity and told him it was ok. To just get some sleep. He stared out the window and his eyes finally closed.
A nurse was shaking him what seemed like a minute later. 'Are you ok?' He looked at her in confusion. 'You started screaming.' A second nurse stood at the doorway. He nodded and looked out the window again. He hadn't had a dream this bad in years. She was talking still but he wasn't listening. He let his eyes fall shut and her words faded. He woke as the sun rose. Day two passed. Only five left. He heard his door open and his father stepped in. 'How are you doing?' He lifted his arm, it ached but the medication took off most of the pain. 'You know what I meant. They called me last night.' Dean frowned and looked away. 'I'm fine. It was just a nightmare.' He felt the mattress shift. He watched the smile on his dad's face waver. 'If you won't talk about it with me then tell Sam. It might make it better.' The younger boy must of sensed they were talking about him because he came running through the door. 'DAD!' The boy looked near tears as he ran into their father's arms. John looked at his youngest with slight confusion. 'He died.' Dean shifted. He couldn't move much using only one arm. 'What?' Sam looked at his brother. 'I thought it was your room. It wasn't!' John pulled Sam up into his lap. 'It's ok.' Sam seemed to calm down and the boys started retelling the night before. The happier parts. Not the part where Dean almost died. A rush of feet ran by the open doorway and John set Sam down on the bed. He looked at the door next to Dean's and realized that Sam had seen a man dying. He wondered if the boy would remember, or had it been too fast. He hoped he wouldn't have to watch his other son cry in his sleep. He looked at Dean who was proudly showing off the almost black bruise on his shoulder. 'The doctor said I have to keep this on. But wait til you see it. It's cool looking.' He didn't know when Dean had seen the bite. He looked at his eldest and it clicked. 'Did you take the bandage off?' Green eyes darted away. 'Dean.' His face was disapproving, but there was a laugh in his voice he couldn't keep out. 'I wanted to see. The nurse caught me as soon as I got it off. I just saw it for a second then she put a new one on.' The boy had been busy in their absence. 'Well when the doctor comes by again you should get to leave.' John hadn't wanted the boy to stay over night, but the doctor had been concerned about an infection from the bite. It had been late to begin with and Sam had fallen asleep in his arms. It had all been too much going on at once. He had at least killed the thing. He smiled and plopped into a chair. 'Lemme know when the doctor comes in.'
Sam and Dean were laughing at some show when the doctor came in. 'Mr.…' The doctor paused. He was having trouble pronouncing the name they had given. 'Yes?' John interrupted. 'Just a quick check then you can check out.' Sam made a weird noise deep in his throat when he looked at Dean's wound. Stitches covered most of his arm. There was a square in one part that made him look almost patchwork. 'Sam. Get down.' The boy fled into the empty chair, as far from the bed as possible. Dean just watched as the doctor checked the stitches.
With a little help Dean got in the car and buckled up. Sam was staring at the bandage on his arm. 'That is gross,' he whispered to Dean. The older boy just inched the arm closer. John caught Sam's hand before it could hit his brother's. 'Dean. Stop it. Sam. Are you stupid? You want to hurt him more?' The boy shook his head and inched away. It was a silent car ride back to the motel to pack.
What was only supposed to take a weekend was growing into a week. They had a day's drive back to the house. Dean didn't want to go back to school. He had whined, but knew it wouldn't do any good. They had a pretty good excuse for absence.
Back in his own bedroom, a restroom, closet and laundry room between him and Sam gave Dean a sense of calm. He didn't have to worry about hiding his sleep habits. He knew that if anything he was also just down the hall from his dad's room. He knew that in the motel they were only a foot or so apart, but he just felt safer in their own house. His light stayed on, but his eyes drifted off anyway. He woke up trembling. He looked at his door and wondered if he could fall back asleep tonight or if he should cave and climb in with his dad. His eyes decided for him and he fell back to sleep. The drive back had wiped him out. 'Dean.' He sat up. His shoulder and arm screaming in pain at the too sudden movement. He cried out and he felt a steady arm on him. 'It's ok. Go back to sleep. I'll send a note with Sam.' He was lowered back to the bed and instantly fell back to sleep. He didn't dream. He knew that. He woke up a few hours later stomach grumbling. He could hear movement in the house and knew his dad had stayed home.
'Grilled Cheese!' John walked in with a blackened square on a plate. Dean smiled happily. His dad couldn't cook to save his life, but his grilled cheese always made him happy. Even if it tasted like charcoal. He made a sound of approval before devouring the sandwich. 'How did you sleep kiddo?' John smiled softly. Dean nodded. It had been the best night he'd had so far. He knew it would get worse. 'Ok. Back to school tomorrow.' Dean groaned and stuck the last piece of bread in his mouth. 'I hate it.' John ruffled the boy's hair abruptly. 'Don't talk with your mouth full.' He stood and stepped out. 'I gotta go get Sammy. You behave.'
The next few days passed. He wasn't getting much sleep, but luckily his dad kept them busy, working hard around the house. He passed out every night and couldn't remember his dreams, just that he woke trembling each night. It was noon of the last day. He looked like he was going to have an uneventful year.
The sun started falling. He was sitting on the couch watching it fall through the window. Sam was watching some cartoon and their dad was reading through an old book. The cartoons ended and Sam lost interest in the evening shows. He curled into a ball against their dad and drifted off. An hour later and John moved the boy to his bed. 'Dean.' He jerked his attention up. 'Yes Sir?' The elder jerked his head toward Dean's room. 'Bed.' Dean gave a pitiful attempt at puppy dog eyes but a stern look was all he got in response. He stomped to his room and got ready for bed. He heard the front door open and shut and stuck his head out. The impala started up and he listened as the roar faded. He looked to the clock. It was barely 10. He changed and flopped onto his bed. It was 10:15 when he fell asleep.
At midnight he awoke screaming. The scream died in his throat when he sat up. His heart pounding. He felt like he was on fire. He threw the blankets off and sat up. The memory wasn't a nightmare anymore. He could feel the tears streaming down his face. He was on his feet and toward his father's room. He opened the door but the bed was untouched. His overactive mind thought the worst. He stumbled to Sam's room, but the boy was sleeping soundly. Dean shut the door quietly. He couldn't bear to look up. He slowly made his way through the house. It was empty. He looked back to Sam's room. He opened the front door and stepped out. The driveway was empty. He sat on the three steps from the front door. He stared out into the dark. It felt better being outside. The cool night air brushed any heat from the memory away. He heard the impala a few blocks away and sniffled. He wiped away the tears.
John stepped out of the car and moved to grab something from the backseat when he noticed something move in the dark. He turned and saw his son looking pitiful on the stairs. 'Dean?' He shut his door and walked up the sidewalk. Green eyes flicked up. 'Daddy.' Dean launched himself at his dad. His tears had started almost as soon as he'd heard his name. John pulled Dean up and carried him into the house as he sobbed. There were whimpers of words, but nothing that John hadn't heard before. He had only meant to be out for a little while. The time had gotten away from him. He moved toward the boys room, but Dean let out a stifled wail and huddled closer. 'Ok. Kiddo.' John sat on his bed and rubbed the boys back as he cried. It took an hour before the whimpers stopped and a few more minutes for his tears to stop running. John set Dean on the bed and pulled the heavy comforter over him. 'Sweet dreams.'
Sam was bored. He'd been awake since the sun came up, but had played until he thought everybody should be up. He went to Dean's room first. The two of them always had the best games to play when together, but Dean's bed was empty. The rest of the house was empty and there was only one room left. He pushed the door open. Their dad was sitting against the headboard his head slumped over in sleep. Dean was curled up against him face puffy. 'Dad?' he whispered when he got close enough. 'Sammy, come here.' He got pulled into a hug and looked down at Dean who was still passed out. 'Is he ok?' He could feel John looking down at his eldest. 'Yeah. He'll be fine.'
A/N: I've been in the mood for Dean Whump. Sam just annoys me when he's hurt. Anywho! I hope you like. Lemme know if you do. And even if you don't.