Nightmares (2/3)

Dean's having nightmares after Amy's.

Dean knows he's dreaming. He knows it. Because he fell asleep on the passenger side of the Impala and Sam was driving.

So how the hell was he driving?

The road stretches out in front of him, long and winding – trees on one side and an embankment with a long fall on the other. Why is he driving so fast? The Speedo says almost eighty. Why doesn't -?

"DEAN!" Sam shouts from the back seat, Dean turns. Amy's in Sam's arms, blood seeping through her clothes and, much to Dean's chagrin, on to the leather seats. "She's loosing too much blood." Sam says; urgency in his voice. Dean just presses his foot to the floor, feeling the Impala lurch forward. Amy's condition the only reason he's pushing it to its limits. She and Sam are the most important things in the world.

Family comes before Cars – unfortunately.

The road never seems to end and Sam's constant commentary on Amy is repetitive. "She's loosing too much blood… Loosing too much blood… Loosing too much blood." This mantra keeps Dean pressing forwards; time slows down until it has hardly any meaning anymore. Dean watches the Speedo. 90 MPH. flashing in the distance. Two colours, red and blue, melt into one. The police are behind them.

The Speedo shows 100 MPH, he can't pull over now. He knows it's a dream and it will end badly. He knows it when he hears the tinny – 'Pull over.' From the police car pulling up at the side of him. He can't pull over; with Amy dying in the back this isn't going to look good for Dean, as he and Sam are wanted all over the country. The police know that – no, he can't pull over.

Amy moans as Sam applies more pressure to her wounds. Sam shushes her, soothing her back to silence. He knows this is going to go bad.

Hell, even Dean knows this is going to go bad.

He knows that the police won't stop, not until he does, and they're all dead if he does that. But he also knows that this is a dream. Dean has to do something. But his mind can't think what. He knows that… he knows everything.

"Dean!" Sam shouts again. He turns to look behind him; he looks into the sobbing eyes of his younger brother. Who looks down at the now still Amy; "I can't find a pulse." He said. "She's dead." If this were the real world Dean would know that Sam would fight for his younger sister no matter what. Instead he just repeated; "She's dead."

Dean knows what he's got to do now. He watches the Speedo with a close eye -120, 125, 130, 135 – a tight corner up a head, they'd never make it. Dean glances in to the rear view mirror. The police have drawn back. They know what Deans about to do. 145.

Dean knows that they won't be taken alive.

When the Impala hit 150 MPH the world around them seemed to slow down again, but one thing kept Dean rooted to the world. Sam's blood stained – Amy's blood – on his shoulder. A gentle squeeze – flying, flying, flying, falling.

Falling,

Falling.

"DEAN!" Sam's hand was on his shoulder. Back in the passenger seat, Dean noted. But the one thing that stood out the most was the fact that Sam and Amy were alive. He grinned. It was all just a dream, something that was rarely true in their life.

"Where are we?" He asked, his voice still sleep filled, just like the rest of him. Every fibre of him wanted to go back to sleep but – his subconscious didn't. Falling, falling, fall-.

"Were just ten miles outta Oregon, on our way into Forks," Amy said, Sam must have seen the joke. Because Dean didn't for a moment. Then he remembered Forks was where that 'Sparkly-gay-ass-so-called-Vampire-that-doesn't-exist' Edward Cullen lived. Dean managed a half smile when he knows that he should come up with something witty to say back to her. Amy rolls her eyes and sighed – just like Sam does. "Were just coming up to Missouri." She pauses as Dean nodded; "Waiting for a motel to come up."

The dream still haunted him, even if its details were becoming fuzzy and half-remembered. But one thing stuck in his mind. Falling, falling, falling…

Falling.

They found a motel, eventually. Amy grinned and said she'd pay something that was so rare that Dean faked having a heart attack. The scary thing was, Dean did it so well. Amy laughed and walked in to the Reception. Sam waited until she was safely out of hearing distance before asking Dean what the hell was going on with him.

"You were mumbling." Sam said to him. "In your sleep, you kept on about 'Amy and the blood', 'the police', and number's going up in fives from 100. What the hell were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing." Dean stated through gritted teeth. He knew that Sam was only worried, but it annoyed him.

"Dean you kept apologising to me and Amy, like…" Sam stopped for a second, "Like we'd died or something."

"You didn't." Dean said; his voice nothing more than a broken whisper. Then he repeated it a little louder, "You didn't die." He watched Amy chatting to the receptionist, "She did."

"Oh," Sam said, "What about the… uh… going off the reservation?" Sam asked. Dean hadn't realised that he'd narrated the whole of his dream to them.

"I was thinking about you two, Amy was dead anyway. You – you would have gone to prison or something. And I would have gotten the death penalty." Dean said to Sam, "I was saving you. I was looking out for the only family I've got."

"But – what?" Sam managed to say. Dean sighed.

"Amy died, blood everywhere, speeding, police, high speed car chase with police, had to get away, tight corner and flying and falling." Dean explained the major details of the dream. "Can't remember much more."

"You do know that it was a dream right?" Sam said.

"Yeah, and we all have bad ones." And then Amy came back with the keys to the room and smiled at the two older men, "Bitch…" He whispered at Sam as Amy tossed the keys at them. Sam smiled.

"Jerk." He whispered back, grinning from ear to ear.