Nightmare

S-

I'd had that dream more than once growing up - a memory of who or when, I didn't know. Only that while I dreamt it, it was real, though always faded quickly, as most dreams do. Not all of my dreams were so prolific… some were merely flashes of mountains crumbling, waves crashing into distant deserted shores… feeling the salty ocean wind sting my cheeks as I trudged down a rocky beach… sitting in a garden, the sun shining down, alighting plants and flowers both common and exotic… weeping with the knowledge that one of my cousins had lost the battle, another warrior gone. Given up. Betrayed. My brother, wincing when the buzzing needle hit his arm, tracing a line into the web of design across his shoulders, the shape of tiny wings blending into the tapestry. A fog, surrounding him suddenly, and I was yanked into his gaze, tumbling through confused images and noise - a thousand places and voices in one and somehow manage to grab his hand -so Real- and he saw me, Really saw me. He looked around us in horror, my gaze following his. The world, in ruins, like an atomic blast had nearly cremated the very ground and everything and everyone on it… Barren, a sickly greenish gray, ash raining down from a chaotic grotesque sky. But it was not lifeless, we saw… 2 figures in the distance, battered and stumbling… two men, seemingly warriors in their own right, looking shocked, horrified…. and guilty. Their images became clearer, even from a distance and I knew, as Damon knew, we would not forget these faces when we woke. They were real. They were important. And they needed help.

I woke crying, gasping and stumbled across the hallway to Damon's room. He wasn't there, of course; he was in his last year of college and I'd just graduated high school. I crawled onto his empty bed, buried my face in the pillow and shuddered as my sobs slowed. I reached for the receiver before the phone ever rang, whispering quietly so I wouldn't wake Mom.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Sleeping is starting to really suck," Damon replied shakily. It made me smile and I could feel him doing the same.

"This is getting absurd," I muttered. "It does actually mean something, doesn't it?"

"Damned if I know… damned if I know what, either."

"Yeah… this one isn't fading," I realized aloud. This wasn't the first nightmare we'd shared.

"No…" He sounded worried, but also certain. "No, we won't forget this one. We won't forget them." He was sure, as was I. I just nodded.

"Any clue who they are?" I asked. "Maybe we could call, try to figure this out."

"I'll let my fingers do the walking, tomorrow."

He either meant remote viewing, remote writing, or hacking. He was fairly gifted at all 3.

"We okay for now?" I whispered dreamily, sleep finally catching back up.

"Yeah, think so," he yawned. "Call you tomorrow," he mumbled. I fumbled the receiver back into the cradle, sleep again dragging me down, and across the miles, could see him doing the same. Even as we both drifted away, I could hear that oh-so-familiar voice whispering on the air.

'Winchester. Sam. Dean. We're running out of time.'

That was the last dream I had until after my mother died.

a/n: Reviews are always welcome and appreciated!