DISCLAIMER:

Hi all, hope u like this first story of my new supernatural series. I don't own any of the Winchester's just so you know, review please

Supernatural

The Brothers in Blood Chronicles.

Part One

Haunted

Chapter One

The Vision

"Earth to Dean? Are you with me?" Samuel Winchester asked from behind the wheel of the Impala, cutting into Dean's thoughts.

"Huh? What?"

Sam frowned. "I asked if you were hungry," he repeated.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I could eat a frickin' horse," The eldest Winchester replied, looking once more at the newspaper that was spread out across his lap. "So where we goin' again?"

Sam changed gears, then sped up and swerved to avoid rear-ending the slow driver in front.

"Lake Evergreen. Its in Ohio," He responded. "There's been strange happenings at a place called Evergreen Manor. Just last week the mistress of the house died mysteriously, as well as the disappearance of a local schoolboy, Thomas O'lauchlan. You think this could be our kind of thing?"

Dean nodded slowly as he stared longingly out the window as a Mc Donald's restaurant blurred by.

Sam sighed. "We'll stop next time. There's no way I'm eating that crap," said the youngest, who could almost feel his arteries hardening at the thought of a greasy burger.

"Yeah, I usually wouldn't either, but I'm so hungry right now, I'd eat friggen Subway,"

And to Dean's distaste, that's where Sam stopped.

"Dude, I wasn't serious! I am so not eating that healthy shit!" Dean protested to his younger, yet somehow taller brother, as he pulled into a parking space.

Sam just smirked, and opened the door so he could stretch his lanky legs.

"You coming?" He inquired, finally standing. Dean shook his head, refusing vigorously.

"Just get me something with as little rabbit food as possible," he insisted. "God, dad would be spinning in his grave," Dean added as an after thought.

Sam bent low and stuck his head through the window. "He doesn't have a grave, Dean," he retorted.

"Yeah whatever gigantor," Dean said, waving his brother off. "Just hurry up, I'm hungry,"

Sam got Dean a foot long sub, with the works, just to spite him. The only thing that Dean found to be worthy of his stomach was the double choc-chip cookie that came free with the meal.

"You're an asshole, you know that Sammy?" Dean pointed out, gingerly picking up a piece of lettuce and tossing it out the window.

"Aw, you love me," he countered, giving Dean his best ever puppy dog look.

"Fuck off man, don't count on it. Get your ass out of my seat, I'm driving,"

Sam just laughed, but complied anyway. There was no use in pissing Dean off any further, although it did provide some entertainment.

As the Impala pulled out of the parking lot, a foot-long sub with the works took a swan dive out the window and landed with a soft thump on the bitumen.

As Dean drove deeper into the night, three things could be heard. The steady drumming of rain on the roof, the occasional squeak of the windscreen wipers and the gentle snoring of his baby brother.

Sure Sammy wasn't a baby anymore; at twenty two he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, yet Dean found himself more than ever, protective of his brother's well being since the tragic death of their father.

Dean glanced momentarily at the petrol gauge and sighed. He would have to stop at the next gas station, and with funds dwindling; it would be hard to keep his girl on the road.

Within five minutes, a gas station loomed into view. Dean parked the car in front of one of the pumps and got out. He stretched his sore muscles and shuffled to the rear of the car to give his baby a much needed drink. With an air of indifference, he watched the numbers on the pump clicked higher and sighed. One hundred and twenty bucks for a full tank of gas. It was ridiculous! Dean put the pump back into its holder and went to pay for his baby's gasoline cocktail.

"One hundred and twenty!" The attendant gasped. "What kind of car?"

Dean nodded his head toward the vehicle outside.

"Ah," the pimply teen nodded knowingly. "An oldie but a goodie. Cash or credit sir?"

"Credit," Dean said automatically, handing the kid one of many fake identities.

He took an impression of the card and handed Dean a biro to sign the page that was before him.

"Thank you Mr. Ford. You have a good night, and treat her well," Said the attendant, indicating the Impala.

Dean inclined his head before exiting.

"Idiot," muttered the eldest Winchester as he opened the car door.

He looked over at Sam, who was still sleeping peacefully.

Envious of his freakishly long legged brother, he scrubbed a hand over his weary face before turning the key in the ignition. As the car purred to life, Sam woke with a start, smacking his head on the window.

Dean smirked and pulled the car back out onto the interstate.

"Good mornin' princess," he teased, tousling Sam's brunette mop for good measure.

"Mmmm fuck off Dean," Sam protested groggily, swatting Dean's hand away.

"Oooh, is it that time of month, pretty lady?" Dean joked, but it was apparent that Sam wasn't interested in being harassed.

"Get lost jerk," he mumbled, trying to get comfortable.

"Bitch," Dean retorted, dodging a punch.

Laughing as Sam murmured something about a lost cause, he slipped a cassette into the tape player.

Pressing play, he growled as the opening notes of 'Don't Fear the Reaper,' by Blue Oyster Cult filled the car.

Dean had plenty of experience with reaper's to know that not fearing them would be stupid, and the two times that he encountered them, he had been lucky to escape with his life. He jabbed the fast forward button, mumbling incoherent curses as he did so.

Finally landing on a song that didn't constantly remind him of his brushes with death, he leaned back and changed gears, expertly navigating the wet winding road in the dark.

"Dude, do you think you could slow down?" Sam asked, finally conscious enough to realize how fast Dean was going.

"Jeez grandma, you really know how to party," Dean said flatly.

"Yeah well, I don't feel so hot, so slow the fuck down before I lose my dinner all over your precious car," Sam snapped.

Dean looked anxiously over at his brother. Half worried about Sam's sudden illness and half scared that his girls interior would be redecorated, he pressed his foot on the brake and slowed down to a more tolerable speed.

"That better?" Dean asked, trying to hide the concern in his voice.

"Uh-huh," Sam replied, resting his throbbing head against the cold window.

"So is it anything to do with your wonder powers?"

Sam looked up. "I don't know, it could be but—Ah!" The sudden pain was unexpected and severe. The youngest clutched his head; bracing himself for the vision he knew would
come.

He sat alone in what appeared to be a large library. In the dim light of the candles, shadows danced across the walls, causing him to feel apprehensive.

As he gently turned the page of an old book, there was a rhythmic tapping at the window. Yawning widely, Sam turned to the glass, and what he saw sent a shiver down his spine. A midnight black crow was perched on the sill, illuminated only by the frequent flashes of lighting. It peered at him intelligently with crimson eyes, and cawed gently, tapping on the window once more.

Frowning, the long-limbed brunette stood and crossed the space between the desk and the casement. With shaking hands, he unlatched the window and slid it open, admitting the bird. It ruffled its feathers and hopped out of the rain, tilting its head to look up at the young Winchester.

"What do you want?" Sam asked curiously, realizing that it meant no harm. It gave an indignant caw and nipped his outstretched hand.

"Ouch, what was that for?" he demanded.

The crow outstretched a black wing and pulled something from the glossy feathers.

Unsure what it held, Sam moved his open palm closer and watched with interest as the creature dropped the dangling item into his hand.

"Thank you," Sam breathed. The bird gave a bow, and then took flight into the tempest, vanishing into the night.

Left alone by the window, the cold wind biting into his flesh, Sam held what appeared to be a necklace in his hand. Under further scrutiny, he came to realize that the necklace belonged to Dean .Why hasn't he got it on? Sam asked himself, bringing it closer to his face. There was something on the silver pendant, a tinge that he couldn't make out in the gloom. He touched it tentatively, fearful of what it could be.

Sam gasped as he brought his hand nearer to his eyes.

Blood.

Deans blood…

Dean pulled onto a shoulder as Sam began to convulse. All he could do was sit there and make sure he didn't choke.

"C'mon Sammy boy, snap out of it," he urged under his breath.

As the twitches subsided, so slowed the heart of Dean Michael Winchester, now so out of his mind with worry that tears slid silently down his face.

"C'mon, C'mon…"

Sam's sea green eyes flew open. "Dean!" Sam pitched forward smacking his head on the dash.

"Whoa there Sammy, calm down, I'm here," Dean soothed. Sam slumped back into his seat with a moan. He looked over at Dean and with a sigh, his eyes slid closed, sending him into oblivion.

"Jesus Sam," Dean muttered as a tendril of blood snaked from his nostrils.

Now was not the time to delay.

Dean pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. Hard.

The Impala's tires screeched and spun, leaving a trail of white smoke in its wake as it raced down the highway at top speed.

Dean was getting impatient. And worried.

It was almost two in the morning, Sam hadn't regained consciousness yet, though he tossed and turned like he was been taunted by a past horror and Dean was yet to find a halfway decent motel to spend the remainder of the night in.

So he drove on, passing fields and murky ponds bathed in the new moonlight. It had stopped raining and clouds had parted at least an hour before that and he was grateful.

Ten more minutes passed before a familiar neon "VACANCY" sign loomed ahead shared also by the words "24 HOUR CHECK IN."

Dean fervently thanked all gods that he thought to be in existence before pulling into the parking lot.

He parked in a space in front of the lobby he could keep an eye on Sam.

"Cash or Credit," the lobbyist asked with a degree of boredom and not looking up from the paper as he handed him the room key.

Placing their meager belongings into the room before getting Sam was his objective, so after dumping their stuff on the floor Dean opened the passenger door to get Sam out.

The eldest grunted as he heaved a limp Sammy from the seat and into a fireman's carry.

"Jeez Sam," he muttered to his unresponsive brother. "What the hell have you been eating, cuz it definitely aint subway,"

Sam stirred slightly as Dean put him on the bed, but he did not awake, so Dean clambered into his own bed and drifted off into a guarded sleep.

When Sam awoke, he was slightly confused. He didn't know what the hell was going on until he looked over and saw Dean sprawled out onto the other bed.

The youngest sat up a little to quickly, remembering the vision, and his head began to spin, causing his stomach to disagree with him.

He swung his legs out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet just in time.

As he was busy expelling his stomach contents, he didn't notice Dean standing at the door with a look of concern etched across his ragged face.

"You all right little bro?" he asked gently entering the cool room.

Sam looked up with un-focused eyes and nodded abruptly. He leant against the bathtub, to exhausted to swat Dean away as he took his temperature.

"103.5, you have a bit of a fever. Go for a cool shower and then get some shuteye. I'm going out to get a soda,"

As Dean exited, he shut the door behind him, leaving Sam to shower. He stripped down and turned the tap on cold, flinching slightly as the icy water pounded at his back.

Several minutes later, he was feeling better, though trembling slightly from the cold. He dried himself thoroughly and slipped a pair of tracksuit pants on before climbing into bed.

He cocooned himself in the blanket and rolled himself up into a ball, falling asleep almost instantly, feeling warm and safe. No dreams troubled him.

When Dean returned from his escapades, Sam was fast asleep, curled up in a ball, and then for a moment, Sam was Sammy.

He looked so innocent and young and undeserving of all the shit the brothers went through everyday, and Dean liked it. Wishing that things could be easier on Sam, he sighed and flumped his own bed.

Tired for his own reasons, he burrowed himself into the bed a pulled the quilt up to his chin, and dozed, though remaining aware just in case anything happened to his baby brother.

It was 7pm before Dean opened his eyes again, however, Sam remained in dreamland.

That was what Dean hated. The waking part. Especially when Sam was sleeping peacefully and innocently.

The eldest Winchester crept over to his brother's bed and shook him gently.

"Sammy, time to get up," he said softly.

Sam groaned. "I dun wanna go to school today, Dean,"

Dean smiled. "Don't worry, you don't have to. But I do need you to get up so I can get some food into you. What do you want?"

Sam opened his eyes, but they were glazed, as if he wasn't all there.

"A Happy meal," he said in a small and childish voice.

Dean frowned, confused and a silence ensued.

"Dean?"

"Sammy, that you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, what's wrong with you?"

Dean shrugged. "You just went all five year old on me,"

Now it was Sam's turn to be confused.

"I did?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, totally. You even asked for a happy meal,"

Sam screwed up his face in disgust. "Yuck,"

The eldest snorted. "Yuck is right Sammy boy. What would you say to pizza?"

Sam shrugged and sat up in the bed. "Whatever do your worst,"

So Dean dialed up the pizza parlor on his cell and directed the delivery to their motel room.

"It'll be ready in about forty. Can you survive that long without going all cannibalistic on me?" Dean asked.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice do I?"

"Nope,"

Dean handed over a twenty and took the pizza box, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Dinner is served geek boy," he said putting the box on the table and taking a large piece.

Sam cringed. "That looks worse than McDonalds," he said, taking his own slice. The pizza was so greasy that it almost turned his box transparent.

The youngest took a bite but placed it back down, swallowing a lump of congealed cheese.

"Ugh, I think I'll just go back to bed,"

Dean grinned. "Whatever dude, more for me,"

Sam slid back down to rest his pounding head on the soft pillow, and within minutes, he was asleep once more.

Well, what did you think?