"I could be weak
I could be senseless
You know I could be just like you"

2000- Age 17

After a few minutes, Sam stood up, took Dean by the hand, and led him back to bed. After all, it was still early, and they had another two hours before they would be leaving to meet up with their Dad. He had stated early on yesterday, before all of the drama ensued, that the plan was for him to ask a few of the locals about recent events, and then the three of them to meet up for lunch. However, it seemed that lunch was going to be awkward.

Dean gladly slid back under the covers, and Sam lay beside him, reaching out to intertwine their fingers. The bed was big enough for the two of them, but still too small to have extra space; their arms, therefore, were pressed firmly together. Sam quickly drifted into unconsciousness, dreaming of Dean, and their father, on a hunt from the past gone awry.

1996- Age 13

It didn't take long to figure out what was murdering the people of Centerville, but the damn thing that was doing it was good. The demon was jumping from body to body faster than they could figure out who he was in. And, he knew that the Winchester's were in town, and after him. He did his best to keep a step ahead, while still managing to taunt them.

When they finally caught up, he was riding the meatsuit of one Charlotte Grier. They followed her to an abandoned storage facility, and locked all of the exits, trapping them inside.

"She could be anywhere in here, boys," John's gruff voice reminded them, "so keep your eyes sharp." He walked forward cautiously, gun at the ready, and the boys did the same. Dean was on his father's right, looking in all of the open units, and Sam was to his father's left, peering down every corridor they passed. He caught a glimpse of the demon down the third corridor, and charged after it. Dean followed Sam, and John remained, creating a devil's trap on the floor in black spray paint. On top of the grime that had already collected on the cool cement, it blended rather well. He fell back into the nearest unit, and watched as Sam chased it into the trap.

"What the hell?" She shouts, looking down to find the grievous answer. Sam slid to a stop behind her, panting for breath. Dean, however, failed to stop in time, and tripped forward, into the trap, and the arms of the demon. John stepped out of the unit with large bits of rock salt in his hands.

"Let him go, or I'll shove these down your throat, and then send your ass back to hell."

"You're gonna try to send me back anyways, so I might as well make it fun." With that, the black smoke poured out of Charlotte's gaping, screaming mouth, and down Dean's throat. Sam and John watched in horror as the woman fell to the floor, and Dean opened his eyes, revealing big, black orbs instead of green ones.

"Fight it, Dean!" Sam shouted, though he knew it was useless.

"Sorry, Kid," Dean's voice came out, but it wasn't him. "Dean can't come to the phone right now."

John stood in horror as his eldest son was used as a puppet before his eyes.

"Dad! Do something!" Sam urged. John did nothing, and the demon laughed.

"Johnny Winchester…tut, tut, tut. I would have thought you'd be strong enough to take back your own son."

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus" Sam started to chant an exorcism off of the top of his head, like he'd been practicing for months.
"omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." The demon clutched at Dean's throat, as if gasping for air.

"Ergo draco maledicte
et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te.
cessa decipere humanas creaturas,
eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare." John continued to stare as his second son saved his first. Dean began to scream, and thick black smoke ripped it's way out, and straight back to hell. When the darkness subsided, Sam rushed to help Dean up (before he realised that he fell on top of a dead woman), as John walked angrily back to the car.

"Why didn't you help, Dad?" Sam yelled across the barren parking lot. John turned around at the car, and stopped.

"Because, Sam, that scared the shit out of me! And quite frankly, Dean is old enough, and trained enough, not to have gotten caught like that!"

"So, you're just gonna blame it on him, huh? That's just low." Dean walked out of the facility, and trudged over as fast as his weakened body would cary him.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trip like that. Can we please stop fighting, and just go?" He looked in anger for a moment, and then nodded. The older two Winchesters got in the car, while Sam stood there, seething in anger over his father.

2000- Age 17

Sam woke up, still clutching Dean's hand, and breathed in. Apart from the dream about yellow eyes he had the night before, it was the worst dream he had in months. What made it so bad? It really happened.