Chapter 14

Dean managed to pull a very unsteady Sam out of the car and into the motel. Sam had started to sing 'Where oh where has my little dog gone?' on the way back. Dean was finding it very annoying. Sam's singing was way off key and drowned out his classic rock, no matter how loud he turned it up.

"Come on Sam, time for bed." Dean said helping Sam to his bed.

Sam had other ideas and pulled away from Dean's strong grip. He ran over to his bed and began bouncing up and down on it. "Look Dean, I can fly! Want to see?"

"Sam! No!" Dean yelled knowing all too well where Sam would end up. He had tried to show Dean that he could fly when he was six and had ended up in the hospital with a concussion and broken wrist. The memory was so vivid in Dean's mind he would have thought that it had happened yesterday.

Sam and Dean had come home from school, both tired after a long week of learning. Sam was excited to go back to school on Monday and hoped the weekend would pass quickly. Dean wished that the weekend would last the rest of his school days; he was tired of being told he wasn't applying himself at his schoolwork. He applied himself when he felt like what he was learning was important. School wasn't one of those things; it wouldn't matter in the hunting world.

Sam sat down at the kitchen table in their small apartment and drew a picture for art class, and did some addition for math. Then being bored flipped on the TV where an old Superman rerun was on. Sam's eyes grew as big as saucers. Dean could have sworn that he saw a little light bulb turn on above Sam's head when he saw Superman take off.

Sam ran upstairs and Dean heard him digging around through his drawers for something. Dean shrugged and turned back to his own homework. Sam often got this way when he saw a superhero. He would run upstairs and see if he had anything with that character on it, and if not would make a costume.

The small patter of feet on the stairs made Dean look up and almost laugh. Sam couldn't find any Superman clothes so he had made himself a costume. He had found some blue pajamas and put a pair of red underwear over them. He had a yellow towel attached to his shirt because they didn't own any red, and a large S was drawn on his shirt in what appeared to be permanent marker.

"Look, Dean. I'm Superman." Sam spread his arms out like an airplane and ran around the couch and then the table where Dean was sitting.

"That's very nice, Sammy." Dean said suppressing his smirk. He turned back to his homework.

Sam frowned a little he didn't like to be ignored, especially by Dean. He turned back to where the TV was still playing. He ran over and jumped onto the couch and started to bounce up and down. He watched as Superman beat up some bad guy and help rescue the nice lady's purse. Sam practiced his punches and kicks making the noises he thought they should make if he was actually making contact.

Dean found this grating on the ears. "Sam, why don't you try flying around again? That is less annoying."

Sam smiled at the suggestion and started running around the couch again. Then he saw the railing at the top of the stairs. Superman lept off railings on tall buildings, surely he could do it in the apartment. He was Superman's sidekick after all. Sam ran up the stairs and studied the railing debating about the best way to climb up.

Dean paused when he didn't hear Sam running around the next room anymore. He looked over and saw the credits for Superman rolling, but no Sammy. Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously he stood and walked into the living room scanning for signs of his little brother. "Sammy?"

"Hey, Dean look I can fly!" Sam's voice came from upstairs. Dean turned to look and went white as a ghost. Sam was balancing precariously on the railing his arms spread out and his knees bent as if he were about to jump.

"Sammy, don't!" Dean yelled too late as Sam launched himself from the railing.

"Whee…hey I should be…" Sam hit the ground with a sickening thud and lay still.

Dean had run to catch him but had arrived too late. He bent next to his little brother's body and turned him. Sam's wrist was at an odd angle making Dean sick to his stomach. Sam's nose was bleeding and he looked pale.

"Hang on, Sammy. Just hang on." Dean muttered in a panic willing his brother to hear him. He dashed for the phone to call for help.

"Sam I really don't need you to try to fly. I think you proved when you were six that you can't." Dean said rather irritated he grabbed Sam's arms forcing his little brother to sit on the bed.

Sam looked at him a little puzzled but didn't argue. He merely sat and looked at Dean with those big puppy dog eyes.

"How about we get you into bed. You're going to have a hell of a headache tomorrow. Just how much did you drink?" Dean asked trying to pull off Sam's jacket but finding it difficult. It would have been easier if Sam wasn't helping him. Every time Dean undid the zipper Sam would zip it back up. "Stop that." Dean said firmly slapping Sam's hands away.

"I had…" Sam started to count on his fingers. He got to five then paused and furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. "I don't remember. Five, maybe more. They were good." Sam smiled goofily at Dean and giggled.

Dean shook his head and managed to successfully remove Sam's jacket. He turned Sam and had him lie down on his stomach, just in case the poor kid puked in the night he didn't want him to choke on it. Sam turned his head so that he could watch Dean move around the motel looking for a bucket. "Hey, Dean?"

"What is it Sam?" Dean asked finding a bucket successfully and placing it next to Sam's bed.

"I want to tell you something." Sam said seriously.

"Ok, shoot." Dean said sitting down on his bed and fixing Sam with a hard gaze.

"I lied. I lied that it was a bear. It was a black dog." Sam said his eyes darting around the room before focusing on Dean again.

Dean kept his face stony, chances were that Sam wouldn't remember revealing this to him in the morning. His brother was wasted.

"He is a death omen and I saw him again tonight. He looked like he was on fire." Sam said then closed his eyes as he succumbed to the alcohol in his system.

Dean was glad Sam had passed out. He closed his mouth that had fallen open in shock as he remembered what he had read about black dogs. 'The dog will appear before its victim bearing signs of how they will die.' Dean jumped up and started to pace around the motel room as Sam's confession repeated over and over. 'I saw him again tonight. He looked like he was on fire.'

Dean spun fiercely and gave his brother a determined glare. "Don't worry Sam. I won't let you die. Especially not in some fire!"