Hope everyone is having a good start to 2008. Fingers crossed that this strike comes to an end soon and everyone can get back to work and we can get some new episodes for season 3. Thanks so much for all the reviews so far, if you do get a chance to leave me a message at the end of this please do. This is my first attempt at writing wee!chester, so no laughing !
Much love to Carol.
Chapter 10- Page from the PastSam's phone vibrated in his back pocket, and without wasting a second he snatched it from his pocket and flipped it open.
"What's so ur…"
"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you answer your phone?" Sam shouted into the phone. His relief was pouring out in his voice, but it clearly was coming across as anger.
"Dude, chill!" Dean said, his tone obviously defensive, "I wasn't near my phone, I called you back didn't I?"
Sam finally forced himself to stop in the street. It was either that or he was going to pass out, whether it be from sheer relief, or exhaustion.
"Sammy?" Dean's voice cautiously asked, "What's going on, where are you?"
"Just listen to me very carefully, lock all the doors and windows and don't let anyone into the apartment," Sam said in a plain tone, as he began walking, pushing himself to at least close some of the distance between his brother and himself.
"Sam, I'm not five," Dean said with a chuckle, " And you sound like shit, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"One final thing, don't leave the apartment!" Sam said in a no nonsense tone, " I don't care if the place catches fire, or tidal waves come at you from the sea; you stay in that apartment no matter what!"
"Yes sir, sergeant major sir!" Dean chuckled, "Look, I'll follow your orders, but only if you let me in on your plan, cause you're clearly going somewhere with this."
"Are you ok?" Sam suddenly asked, ignoring Dean's question.
"Dude, of course I'm ok, I'm in the apartment, reading one of your freaking ancient texts, so actually I'm not ok, I'm bored rigid here man!" Dean said in a frustration, "Did you find out anything about our demonic buddies?"
"Have you locked the windows Dean, cause I'm not hearing anything locking or closing from here." Sam muttered as he stomped down the street, squeezing his ear into the phone, trying to hear every tiny sound at the apartment.
"You clearly need sleep, and a night out," Dean muttered. "Look, Sam, I get that you're pissed at me for what I said to you this morning, but you…"
"Forget it!" Sam cut through, uninterested in his brother's apology.
"I can't forget it," Dean mumbled. "Look, let me come get you…"
"I said just leave it Dean, and for once in your god damn life, can't you just do something without me asking a million times!?" Sam finally exploded.
"Alright, take a breather man…" Dean muttered as he locked the veranda door loudly, "You hear that? That's me locking the veranda door."
"Good just keep doing it, I'm on my way home," Sam said an edge to his voice. He was just about to cut the connection when Dean's voice came through again.
"Sam."
"Yeah?" Sam responded, his tone managing a note lighter.
"This friggin' sucks here man!" Dean muttered and with that comment, Dean broke the connection.
Sam sighed heavily and continued to walk home, adjusting the weight of the bag on his shoulders.
"I know this sucks Dean," Sam mumbled sadly to himself, "I know it does."
Sam pushed open the door to their apartment and was immediately greeted by the freezing temperatures of the room.
Sitting with a face of thunder on the couch with a long sleeved sweater on looking ridiculously cold, Dean's look alone could have killed him.
"Why's it so cold in here?" Sam asked as his skin goose bumped instantly, causing him to shudder.
"Cause, Einstein, you wanted me to lock all the doors and windows, and keeping them open is the only way we've been keep this damn place warm!" Dean seethed. "I can't even feel my hands, and you got me sitting here freezing my ass off while you wonder around outside in the great warm freakin' outdoors!"
"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam sincerely said, "I completely forgot about the air conditioning being in revenge mode."
"This had better be good, Sam," Dean said as he nodded at the sofa for Sam to come and sit down; but from the agitation that was clear on Sam's face, there was no way the younger could sit down.
"Look, Dean, I don't know how to explain this…" Sam said as he studied Dean's face from where he was standing, "but something weird is going to happen; something…not good."
"Something not good?" Dean repeated, "Are you kidding me with this? Is that all you're gonna give me?"
"It's all I've got," Sam said simply, his shoulders sinking.
"Liar!" Dean snapped, "Dude I heard your voicemail; you were scared, shit scared, so what the hell happened?"
Sam opened his mouth to talk, but snapped it back shut and began to pace the beach coloured hard wood. He finally stopped and turned to Dean.
"Did you happen to find out why the Alchemists have targeted us?" Sam asked as he looked at his brother, "Any signs at all, explanations as to why us?"
Dean slowly shook his head, "I can't find a thing on why they're after us specifically, but I did find some stuff on what they usually go after, which is where my headache began; because it doesn't fit us."
"How do you mean?" Sam asked curiously.
"Well, for starters, they're demons, and demons usually go after beings with powers, anything to bump them up the demonic food chain." Dean shrugged, " Last time I checked, I got zip to give them and no offence, but I wouldn't think they'd spend all this time tracking you down for your weirdo visions.."
"I agree," Sam said with a heavy sigh, "We're getting nowhere Dean."
"Hey, Sammy, why am I sitting in this apartment, freezing my tail off?" Dean said, his voice growing a notch higher.
Sam stared at Dean for a moment. It was clear that Dean was ok, nothing was going to get Dean, at least not while he was there. Taking a chance, he unlocked the veranda door and stepped into the blazing 88F sunshine which laced Clearwater that day. Sam could already hear Dean jogging to join him on the deck…anything to escape his cold cocoon.
When Dean finally emerged, he was carrying two beers.
"So…" Dean started as he twisted the cap off and drained some of the beer, "You gonna tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to start begging, 'cause I don't do well with begging…"
Sam twisted the cap off his own beer and drained half of it down his throat, to Dean's clear surprise.
"Ok…" Dean said leaning against the railings and staring out at the perfect sea in front of him. "That's not exactly a good sign."
"I don't know what I saw," Sam finally whispered, as Dean swung around, beer swishing over the edge of the bottle and leaking down his hand as he locked eyes with Sam.
"You had a vision?" Dean almost shouted, the horror was clear in his tone and etched like a portrait on his face.
Sam's stomach plunged to his feet.
"I don't know what it was, but," Sam started to say as he dropped wearily into the lounger and closed his eyes, the memory eating a hole into his heart.
"What did you see happen?" Dean demanded coming over now and sitting on the other lounger beside him, "Sam, what's going to happen?"
"It's not going to happen, it happened," Sam finally said, "I got flashbacked, I think, I don't know; but I saw you, and it was that night."
"What night?" Dean asked slowly, his hazel green eyes now filling with worry, "Sam, what night?"
Sam's hazel eyes finally locked with Dean's.
"The night you drowned."
January 23rd 1989-San Francisco
"You promised, Dad," whispered the sad, defeated tone of the ten year old that looked up at his father, his green eyes begging and pleading with the ex-marine for some leniency.
"I know Dean, but just this once, ok?" John Winchester said as he knelt down in front of his unhappy eldest son, "I know you want to go to the lake today, but I promise tomorrow we'll spend all day there; tomorrow is your special day."
Dean's face finally softened, "Will you be gone long?"
"No, just to the store," John explained as he stood back up and dusted his knees off from the cheap carpet, "Have to get a certain someone something special."
Dean's face broke into a big grin, "Really?"
"Yes, really," John said, as he glanced at the closed bedroom door, "Now, you be good ok? You watch Sammy and make sure he doesn't stick play-do in the kettle again."
Dean giggled, "That was funny!"
John's eyes narrowed, "Let's just not do that again!"
"Ok, Dad." Dean said as he sat down on the couch and turned the TV on, " Hey Dad, since you're only going to the store, you think if you get back in time I could go down to the lake?"
John looked at the time, it was almost 6pm.
"Ahh son, look, by the time I get back, I want Sammy in bed, so we won't be able to go today, but I promise, ok! Tomorrow, when it's all safe, we'll go together." John explained, "I never break my promise to you kiddo, do I?"
Dean shook his head.
"Good." John said as he quietly opened the bedroom door and closed it silently behind him.
His six year old son was spread out all over the bed, with papers and colouring pens and markers everywhere. It took John a moment not to laugh out loud at the sight. He then watched as Sam cheerfully picked up a pair of scissors and attacked the blue card he held in his hand.
John was quickly at his side.
"Didn't I tell you to not play with scissors by yourself?" John scowled as he took the instrument away.
Sam waved the paper in his face.
"Can't ask Dean," The young boy said as he stood on the bed and plunged the contraption of glitter, stickers and god knows what else at John, "It's for him. You think he'll like it?"
John held the card in his hand and felt a smile pull at his face, he wrapped an arm around his little son's waist and gave him a cuddle,
"I think he'll love it Sammy!" John lied, knowing full well his eldest son would be horrified at the sight of all that glitter.
"So, I'm gonna go to the store…"
"Can I come?" Sam interrupted loudly.
John put a hand gently on his son's mouth, "Shh, we're keeping this a secret from Dean, remember?"
Sam nodded furiously and pulled his head closer to his dad, "Can I come?" Sam whispered, which made John chuckle.
"No, Sammy, you got a secret mission to do for me," John teased, "You got to make sure that Dean doesn't leave this place until I come back."
Sam once again nodded furiously.
"So, what do you want me to get for Dean?" John asked wrapping his arms around the bouncing child on the bed and pulling him into his lap. "Anything you want in particular?"
"Robots," Sam sung, "Doone likes robots!"
"Sammy, I think you like robots," John corrected as his youngest fidgeted in his lap, "How about a racing car, he could drive it around?"
"Ooh!" Sam said, already standing in his father's lap and nodding vigorously, " Yeah, get that!"
"Alright, you be good, and hide all this stuff from your brother," John said picking Sam up playfully and tossing him onto the bed. Fits of giggles exploded around the room.
"You are coming back, right?" Sam asked as he turned around on the bed to look at his father, "'Cause Dean would be real sad if you didn't."
"I promise Sammy," John said as he picked up his wallet from the nightstand and left the bedroom silently.
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John Winchester started the Impala engine and sat staring at the motel room he'd just left. His little boys were in there on their own. It broke his heart each and every time he had to leave them…even if it was just to go to the store. He had every intention of going to buy his eldest son a birthday present. If anyone deserved a good birthday, it would be Dean; he couldn't believe his eldest was going to be 11 the next day.
But, being an ingrained hunter, he'd not only come to the lakes for Dean's birthday; he'd come to hunt.
Right on those lakes was a sea hag, and according to cycle, tonight was the final night she came to feed. Four kids had already been drowned in the area, and tonight was the last night of the cycle. John had everything he needed to kill the sea hag, and that's exactly where he planned to go now; and then to the nearest Wal-Mart.
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John came through the door quietly; it was just after 9pm and curled up on the couch watching a game show were his sons. Sam was already crawling on top of Dean's lap trying to cover his eyes.
"Sam..!" Dean yelled as his brother's feet trampled all over him.
"Shh, it's a secret!" Sam chimed.
John poked his head out the bedroom door, "He can look now Sammy."
Sam released Dean's face and jumped off the couch and ran into the bedroom, where John was taking off his boots.
"Can I see it?" Sam asked excitedly.
"No, Sammy, you'll see it tomorrow with Dean," John said, running his hand over his youngest soft brown hair. Looking up, he saw Dean standing in the doorway looking suspiciously at him.
"Why are you wet?" Dean asked curiously, "It's not raining."
"Why don't you go watch the rest of your game show?" John said, looking away from Dean and looking quietly at Sam, who was peering in a drawer.
"Sam!" John snapped.
"Oops!" Sam said flashing his father a little dimpled smile.
"Can't I go down to the arcade?" Dean asked, leaning against doorframe. "Just for a little while?"
John studied Dean for a moment, while pulling his youngest away from the drawers and keeping him in front of him.
"I won't be long," Dean said, his eyes pleading.
"Alright, half an hour," John said finally, "and that means exactly thirty minutes. Not thirty minutes you stay in the arcade, thirty minutes for you to be all the way back here."
"Yes sir!" Dean said, already turning to leave the door.
"You only go to the arcade, Dean, nowhere else," John said, tugging Sam along with him as he followed Dean out the room. "I mean it son."
"Yes sir," Dean said, glancing down at his shorts and t-shirt, checking to see if they were at least clean. No point inviting fights from the older kids.
"Alright," John said with a sigh as he opened his wallet and pulled out a bill, "I want change out of that, and don't buy any junk food!"
Dean's face broke into a smile as his dad handed him the ten dollar bill.
"Come Sammy," Dean said holding out his hand, waiting for his little brother.
"Ah, not this time Sammy," John said scooping Sam up and holding him to his chest, " It's time this one found the bath and jammies."
"Sammy jammies!" Sam sung as he looked across at Dean and nuzzled his father's shoulder. "Let's swim, Dean."
"No, let's play," Dean said still holding his hand out to Sam, his eyes now on his father. "Come play with me."
"You want to stay here and help me bathe him, or do you want to go to the arcade?" John said plainly, "Sammy's not coming…Sammy's going to go get a dunk in the bath." John said, pinching Sam's cheeks playfully and then ruefully looking at the marker pens that were streaked all over his youngest hands and face. He sighed as he caught a whiff of him as well, "This kid stinks!"
Dean laughed out loud and John cracked a smile. Sam bucked in his father's arms, laughed loudly and ran into the bathroom.
"Thirty minutes," John said, turning to head towards the bathroom, "It starts now." John hinted with a grin.
"See you later, Dad!" Dean said, already at the door.
"Nowhere else, Dean, I mean it, straight there and straight back," John repeated.
Dean simply rolled his eyes as he spotted Sam waving at him from the bathroom.
"You sure you don't want to play?" Dean teased his younger brother.
"Out!" John yelled, as he sent a smile at his eldest. "Out, now!"
John watched as Dean waved and disappeared from his sight.
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"Daddy, where's Dean?" Sam asked as he climbed the sofa and came and sat beside his agitated father.
"That's a very good question Sammy," John said as he once again eyed the clock.
Sam was now clean and smelling of his father's musky body wash, and John himself had showered and changed out of his wet clothing; and Dean hadn't returned yet.
He was five minutes late. Not something Dean ever did.
John slipped out his seat on the sofa, leaving Sam staring at the TV, and opened the front door, stepped out of the motel and found his eyes searching for his eldest child. He expected to see Dean hurrying towards him, his face filled with apologies.
John felt his stomach churn.
He'd tried to take out the sea-hag, but he hadn't got there in time. The woman had beaten him a few minutes earlier to the kill and claimed her final victim. While John was annoyed that yet another innocent life had been lost, he'd learnt a long time ago not to dwell on the hunts he couldn't do anything about. He'd failed this time, but he'd get her next time. The sea-hag could bet her life on that.
John felt his stomach muscles clench inwardly.
He knew how desperately Dean had wanted to go to the lake. Even though John knew it was now safe for another 365 days, it was dark and Dean was alone in a strange town, and nothing more than a kid.
John glanced at his watch.
He was now ten minutes late.
Turning back into the motel room, he looked over at his youngest son.
"Sammy, grab your shoes!" John said, reaching for his boots; he watched as Sam eagerly bounced off the couch and disappeared into the bedroom. "We're going for a drive."
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John's fingers clenched tightly as he gripped the steering wheel to the Impala. He'd already checked at the arcade; sure enough, Dean had been there and left almost half an hour earlier. It was a five minute walk back to the motel. The father had driven back and forth down the routes his eldest could have taken and yet he was coming up empty handed.
He glanced at Sam sitting in the passenger seat beside him; the seatbelt across his son was far too big, but the youngest child's eyes were large and bright. John's stomach churned as he realised that Sam thought that this was an adventure. He had no idea how serious this situation really was.
John turned his attention back to the road and finally headed in the direction he knew he should have gone earlier.
He headed to the lake...
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John threw the car into park and scrambled out, glancing back at Sam, who was still struggling with his seat belt. Casting his youngest child a look, he reached inside the Impala, flicked the child lock on and promptly slammed the car shut.
"Daddy!?"
John didn't even turn back. Armed with his automatic and flashlight, he headed towards the lake. He had a clear view of everything, the large lake in front of him, and of course a clear view of the Impala. He had two kids to take care of, and while he didn't want to lock Sam in the car, it was the safest place he could; last thing John needed was for two of his kids to go missing.
"Dean!" John yelled, evenly, loudly.
His eyes scanned the dark area, his flashlight working the overgrowth like a seasoned professional.
"Dean, come on out here son…you're not in any trouble, I promise!" John said, a note of worry creeping in.
Standing a few feet from the edge of the lake, John stared at what had earlier been a furrow of activity with the local police and the residents. He stared at the eerily silent lake.
Where had all the police tape gone?
Surely this place was still a crime scene…a kid had died here just a few hours ago.
John felt his stomach back flip, as his hands darted around with the flashlight.
At least he'd thought a kid had died here.
Panic gripped him instantly.
"Dean!!" John screamed. Any form of control and confidence gone from his voice; he'd been reduced to a frightened father looking for his missing child.
Hearing no response, he glanced a look back at the Impala, saying a silent prayer to whoever was listening, and headed off towards the left side of the lake.
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Six year old Sam climbed onto the passenger seat and fought to open the doors around the confines of the Impala. He wasn't allowed to stand on the car seats, but he was confused as to why his dad had locked him in the car by himself.
Finally accepting that he couldn't get out, he flopped noisily into the driver's seat and began to play with the steering wheel.
He couldn't wait to be able to drive.
His hands gripping the steering wheel, he knelt on the driver's seat so he could peer over the dashboard. His hazel eyes stared into the blackness. His little fingers fiddled with the controls his father always played with, and lights suddenly flooded the ground in front of him.
"Yes!" Sam said gleefully as he stared out at the lake in front of him.
His hazel eyes stared at the lake and slowly grew wide.
Several feet away trying to run towards the car was Dean.
Sam stared at his brother.
He didn't look happy, he was scared and screaming.
"Dean!" Sam yelled in the car as he finally saw what had scared Dean so much. A woman, a woman with crazy hair and weird clothes and she was walking from the lake.
"Dean!" Sam screamed, his feet jumping frantically on the seat, his hands banging manically at the windshield.
All he could do was watch.
Watch as the old lady dragged Dean kicking and screaming into the lake, yanking him by his ankles.
Sam watched as his elder brother disappeared from the surface.
Screaming frantically, yelling, his little hands banging on the windshield, the window anything to help him get out of the car, when finally his hands fell on the horn and the ear splitting noise alone sent the frightened youngster silent in the car.
Within a second he was back on his feet frantically leaning on the steering wheel. His face wet with tears, his eyes straining to stare into the lake, his sobbing drowning out the sound of the horn; all Sam could do was hope that his daddy could save Dean.
Because he knew he couldn't...
Present day
"You got any idea what happened next?" Sam whispered as he shivered outwardly, despite sitting in the warm sunshine.
Dean scowled at Sam and took another sip of his beer. Realising he wasn't getting any more from Sam, he finally spoke.
"No, Sam, I don't remember anything of that night," Dean muttered. "That tends to happen when you spend most of it unconscious."
"Dad heard my banging and realised what was happening," Sam explained, "He dragged you out, but you'd been under for such a long time..."
Dean rolled his eyes and shot Sam a look.
"Dude, that was a real long time ago, we were just kids. You in this case, were a very noisy kid that liked to abuse car horns."
"Even when dad got you breathing again he wouldn't let you go..." Sam said quietly, "He drove us back to the motel, and didn't let go of you once."
"Sam, is there a point to this trip down disastrous memory lane?" Dean asked curiously, "'Cause I got things I need to be doing."
"I cried the whole way home that night, cried all night long," Sam said, shaking his head, "I remember Dad cried too."
"Dad? Our dad, Mr Marine?" Dean asked with a chuckle as he stood up from his seat, "Yeah, right!"
"We all slept in Dad's bed that night, you right in the middle," Sam said a wistful look on his face, "Dad had you in his arms, he never let you go Dean, not once."
"You seriously need sleep, or a life..." Dean mumbled, "Sam, you got me locked up in an icebox to take me down memory lane to remind me of an experience I have no memory too."
This time it was Sam's turn to look at him funny.
"You don't remember any of that?" Sam asked in surprise, "None at all?"
"Ok, I remember bits and pieces, like going to the arcade and then going to the lakes." Dean admitted, "Then it's blank. Next thing I can remember was waking up sandwiched between you and dad and wondering what on earth happened."
"What had happened was that you drowned and Dad saved your life!" Sam said, "It took Dad a while to get over that one…I remembered we actually stayed in that motel for quite a while."
"Also got the best damn birthday cake ever!" Dean said, grinning at the memory, " Also remember you broke the remote to my car dad got me."
"No I didn't, you sat on it!" Sam said heatedly as he looked at Dean and saw his brother's smile beaming down at him.
Sam finally sighed.
"I don't know what was the point of that memory Dean, but I swear to you it wasn't just me sitting down in the library and thinking this one up," Sam said, a note of desperation in his voice. Dean noticed it and quietly sat back down. "Yes, I admit I was tired and put my head down for a second on the desk, but I heard someone calling my name, and I knew it was you, you just sounded younger."
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it again when Sam continued talking.
"I looked up and there you were, standing in front of me, just like you were the night at the lake, only you were dripping wet and…" Sam said, physically shuddering, as Dean slowly stood back up.
"Dead?" Dean finished for him.
"You were dripping wet and your lips were blue," Sam admitted, "I just freaked out then and there."
"Hence the manic voicemail," Dean said with a nod as he opened the veranda sliding door and walked back into the living room, Sam quickly following him.
"Any ideas?" Sam asked as he lent against the glass door chewing on his bottom lip nervously, "'Cause I don't know about you, but I think this isn't exactly a good thing."
"I don't know when seeing me dead was ever a good thing, but this time round…" Dean said as he flopped down on the couch, "I think you need some sleep and some food."
Sam's mouth dropped open.
"You think I'm hallucinating?" Sam snapped, "Is that it?"
"I don't know what to think," Dean admitted, "I do believe you, Sam, but I also know that you've been under way too much pressure the last few weeks."
"I'm fine," Sam mumbled as he walked through the living room and stalked into the kitchen.
"Sam, do you even realise that you were in a serious car accident five weeks ago?" Dean challenged, "Something you died from. Now somehow you came back, but that doesn't mean your injuries went away."
Dean listened to the silence coming from the kitchen; he knew Sam was listening and probably agreeing with him inwardly, but naturally, Sam would never give in to Dean without a fight. Dean rose to his feet.
It was time for the older brother to reclaim his position. Time for Dean to stop being the protected and resume being the protector.
"You need to slow down Sam…the doctor said with your head injury and everything else that happened in the crash, you needed to take things easy," Dean said as he walked to the kitchen entrance and stood in front of it, blocking Sam's path if he tried to escape.
"Like I keep saying, Dean, I'm ok," Sam said, sucking in a breath as he turned to face the sink and leant on it, staring out the window.
"Look, there isn't a day I don't blame myself for dragging you out of that hospital and taking off with you; I probably made the situation about ten times worse," Dean said with a heavy sigh.
"You did what you thought was right, I would never hold that against you," Sam said, finally looking up at Dean, "I just wish you'd friggin' told me everything from the start."
Dean felt that comment sting his cheeks.
"I know I shouldn't have kept everything from you, but what can I say, I was trying to protect you," Dean said with a shake of his head, "I can't control that anymore, but I can control what happens from now on, and you're going to take care of yourself, even if I have to nail you down to a bed to do so."
"The Alchemists won't disappear on their own," Sam countered, "You need me to help get rid of them."
Dean studied the stubborn look on Sam's face. There was no way Sam was backing down on this statement.
"You've been through too much Sam, from the crash and then straight into the Alchemist demon," Dean said with a stubborn tone of his own, "Maybe what you saw today was exhaustion."
Sam's eyes narrowed, "Or maybe what I saw was a warning."
Dean chuckled, "You saw me as a kid, something that happened way back in time."
"And it could have been a warning. I always get these visions when something bad is about to happen to people I'm supposed to save," Sam countered, "Maybe I saw this because I have to stop you from drowning."
Dean stared at Sam's stubborn bitchface.
"Sammy, all your visions are always connected to the Yellow Eyed freak," Dean reminded, "How on earth is a memory of you being six years old, anything to do with visions?"
Sam opened his mouth to answer back, but realised he had no answer to that question, so he did what Sam did best; be friggin stubborn.
"I saw it for a reason, and I think something is going on here, Dean. It's no coincidence that we're looking into the remaining Alchemists and I'm now having visions of you drowning," Sam said simply, "Even you have to admit that…"
"Sammy, just leave this topic ok?" Dean finally said with a heavy sigh, "Right now, I don't care about the Alchemists, about Fear, or Anger and the other stupid one…"
"Inhibitions," Sam inserted.
"Yeah, and that one," Dean said with a nod, "I care about getting you well and back on your feet."
"I'm standing on my feet," Sam said stubbornly, "Dean, there is no way I'm backing off, no way in hell."
Dean rubbed his face in annoyance.
"How did you get so stubborn?" Dean finally asked with a frustrated shake of his head.
A small smile played on Sam's lip, "I learnt from the best."
Dean felt a smile of his own appearing on his face, as he watched as Sam brushed past him and headed into the living room.
He couldn't quiet put his finger on it himself, but he had a sinking feeling that Sam was right. It was just too much of a coincidence that Sam would 'see' his younger self drown. Sam was right…it had to be a warning.
Dean chewed his bottom lip as a pang of worry began running through his stomach, which was developing a very tight knot.
Sam was going to have to save Dean again.
That didn't sit too comfortably with the older brother.
Not one little bit….
Thanks for reading; I hope you're still enjoying the story. Don't forget to leave a review; it's the only way I know what you guys are thinking. Xxxx