Chapter Fourteen: Reach For The Sky
I woke gasping for air. I was covered in a cold sweat.
I trembled. I looked around myself in the darkness and was comforted by the sight of Sarah sleeping peacefully beside me.
It had been a nightmare, only a nightmare.
I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for my heart to stop pounding.
This was the third night in a row that I had had that nightmare. Normally my nightmares did not reoccur, especially day after day.
I quietly changed my clothes to a pair of old jeans and a grey t-shirt. I leaned over and kissed Sarah's cheek gently.
I padded down the hall to Faith's room and peered in. She was sleeping with her favorite stuffed teddy bear. Aaron's room was dimly lit by a blue nightlight. I saw the mobile turning slowly above his crib. I went downstairs, pulled on a pair of black rubber boots and headed out to the barn. I turned on the light and greeted the horses. Duncan whinnied and stretched his nose forward.
Ginger stomped her hooves and tossed her mane. Marlowe raised his graying head and snorted.
I walked to the horses' stalls and opened the doors. The animals stepped out and headed to the open doors of the barn. They knew where to go. I walked along beside Marlowe and once we were outside I opened the pasture gate and watched the horses file in.
It was early morning; the sky was a grayish colour, turning to pink on the horizon.
I returned to the barn and began cleaning out the horses' stalls, shoveling old straw and manure into a blue wheelbarrow. Old Thomas Addison would come by later today and pick up it up and use it to fertilize his pumpkins.
After mucking out each stall and spreading out fresh straw I put clean water in the troughs and set out oats for the horses.
I walked out of the barn when I finished and saw that Marlowe was standing at the fence.
"Hey old boy," I said and patted the gelding's muzzle.
I was worried about this dream. It was almost like a vision but I hadn't had one of those in years so I was skeptical. I knew that Lucifer was dead. Why would he wait so long to make a move against me? No, the Devil was dead and I was reacting to the stress of having a newborn baby in the house again. Maybe I should tell Dean about it, just in case.
"What do you think I should do?" I asked the horse.
Marlowe closed his eyes as I continued to pat his nose.
To tell or not to tell, that is the question.
I sighed and decided I would wait until I saw my brother next before choosing whether to tell him about the nightmare or not.
I went back inside, turned on the coffee maker, went upstairs and grabbed clean clothes and took a shower.
When I left the bathroom, Sarah was standing in the hall, ready for her turn.
"Faith is still asleep," Sarah said.
"Okay. Do you want me to wake her?" I asked.
"No, I'll get her up when I've finished showering," Sarah said.
I nodded and kissed my wife.
"Are you alright, Sam?" Sarah asked.
"Of course," I said, "why?"
"You have that look on your face you only get when something's bothering you," Sarah answered.
I shook my head, "I'm fine."
I smiled and walked to our bedroom to put my dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. While in the bathroom I had changed into a pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt.
I made my way back downstairs and poured myself a mug of coffee, adding a little milk. I set out Faith's pink plastic bowl and matching spoon on the kitchen table and took a box of Lucky Charms from the pantry. I put the pitcher of milk within reach of my daughter's chair. I looked at the baby monitor sitting on the counter. Aaron was still fast asleep then. Of course he would be, he almost always cried long into the night even when Sarah or I had tried everything to quiet him.
I stood and looked out the window as I drank my coffee. I listened as Sarah turned the water on and off within ten minutes.
It was a Saturday and I was happy I didn't have to go to work today. I worked six days a week, with every other Saturday and every Sunday off because the library was closed. The nightmare was still too fresh in my mind to make me comfortable about driving to Butte.
I had just poured my second cup of coffee when Faith came hurrying down the stairs.
"Daddy!" the little girl shouted and hugged me around the legs.
I set my cup on the counter and picked my daughter up.
"Good morning, Sunshine," I smiled.
Faith grinned at me and threw her arms around my neck in a hug. Her large, dark blue eyes (violet eyes, Sarah called them) were bright and alert; Faith was full of energy and ready to take on the day. Her chestnut brown hair lay in loose curls on her shoulders.
Sarah came downstairs with a happy expression. She held Aaron against her shoulder. When she entered the kitchen she sat Aaron down in his high-chair. He looked around and smiled and giggled. He had black hair and dark brown eyes the colour of fresh brewed coffee. He was wearing a pair of green footie pajamas.
I set Faith down and the little girl went and sat on her seat. She poured a more-than-generous amount of cereal into her bowl and I added the milk.
Sarah poured herself some coffee and we leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Faith as she ate her sugary breakfast.
"How'd you sleep?" I asked Sarah.
"Great," Sarah answered and took a sip of hot coffee.
That was good. I always worried I might wake Sarah up if I had a nightmare. They only came rarely now and usually if I was stressed or physically or emotionally drained.
"Sam, if something's troubling you, you know you can talk to me about it," Sarah said as she examined my expression again.
I had not told Sarah about the nightmare. I knew it would scare her, Hell, it scared me, and I didn't want to upset Sarah.
"No, I'm fine. It's not important anyway," I answered and busied myself by pouring another cup of coffee.
Once Faith had eaten, Sarah made some cereal for Aaron and fed him while I kept our daughter entertained. When all the dishes were in the dishwasher we got ready for our weekend family walk.
Sarah took Faith and Aaron out for walks every morning and our daughter loved them but weekends were special because I would come as well.
When Sarah and I had our shoes on I knelt down to help Faith with her shoes. Sarah assisted Faith in putting on a jacket. Faith was very particular that I help her with her shoes but she wanted her mother to put her jacket on for her. Sarah strapped Aaron into his baby carriage.
We walked outside and off the porch. Faith was in the middle, holding one of my hands and one of Sarah's. I pushed Aaron along with my free hand.
"Horses!" Faith exclaimed as we walked past the pasture, "bye horsies!" Faith waved to the animals as we reached the dirt road that led to the other farms past ours.
"What time did Dean say they were coming?" Sarah asked me.
"Uh, before lunch…eleven or eleven thirty," I answered.
"Have you heard from Bobby lately?" Sarah wondered.
"He called last week. Thought there might have been a werewolf down near Billings but it was a false alarm," I replied.
"We should have Bobby over for dinner, I know it's a drive but he could stay at the farm, the guest rooms downstairs are finally finished," my wife said and I had to agree that I needed to get Bobby to come for a visit. I hadn't seen him in a while and he wasn't getting any younger.
"Daddy!" I looked down at Faith. She was staring at a milkweed plant that had a Monarch caterpillar on one of its leaves.
"You don't usually see these guys out here," I said and Sarah and I crouched and watched Faith watching the fat white, black and yellow insect munch away.
"That's a caterpillar" Sarah said. Faith had seen them before, mostly the thin, fuzzy brownish ones.
"Cat'pillar?" Faith said with a question in her voice.
The amount of wonder our daughter had for the world around us never ceased to amaze me.
After walking for twenty more minutes we turned around and headed back to the house. Sarah didn't bother taking off her shoes but grabbed her purse and headed out to the grocery store.
I stayed at home with Faith and Aaron. I placed my son in his play-pen where I could keep a close watch on him and turned my attention to Faith. I played with her for a good couple of hours, changing rapidly from hide-and-seek, follow-the-leader, and spent at least ten minutes singing Old Macdonald, thinking up a wide range of exotic animals the farmer kept with him. I gave her some paper and crayons and watched television while Faith scribbled. Sarah came back just after I had turned the TV onto some children's show.
I went into the front hall and hugged and kissed Sarah. Then I went out and grabbed the grocery bags- there was only a half-dozen. I took the bags into the kitchen and began to unpack them.
Sarah went into the living room and sat on the couch beside Faith. She gave our daughter a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. Sarah peered over the edge of the play pen and wiggled her fingers at Aaron who laughed as though Sarah had just told a joke.
When all the food was put away I went upstairs and stepped into the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the three familiar bottles from the shelf. I closed the cabinet and examined my reflection in the mirror: same long face, narrow nose, shaggy hair, green eyes as there always was…
Sometimes, though, it felt like I was an imposter, living someone else's life for them…sometimes it didn't seem too strange to believe that one of these days the real Sam Winchester would walk through the front door and demand his life back.
I swallowed the pills with a generous amount of water and walked back downstairs. Just as I reached the first floor my stomach growled, reminding me I had yet to eat today.
I went straight to the kitchen and saw there was a half-eaten loaf of bread on the microwave. I peered into the fridge and saw a couple of deli bags of cold cuts.
"Sarah, do you want a sandwich?" I called, my head still in the fridge, searching now for ketchup and mustard.
"Sure!" There was a pause and Sarah called again "Faith wants one too!"
I grabbed the cold cuts and proceeded to make the sandwiches.
I looked to the clock on the oven and smiled when I saw it read only nine- thirty.
Sandwiches for breakfast, Dean would be proud of me, I thought and chuckled.
I made Faith's food first: plain bread with turkey breast. Our daughter was going through a stage where she ate very plainly, no condiments or toppings or seasonings on food.
Sarah always laughed that at least she was eating her veggies.
We ate in the living room. Sarah and I watched the cartoon with Faith, neither of us paying much attention. When we were finished, I gathered the saucers and put them into the dishwasher. When I peered into the living room, Faith was sitting on Sarah's lap so her mother could braid her hair. Sarah had turned the channel to the Food Network and both mother and daughter were intently watching Iron Chef. I picked Aaron up and walked around with him for a few minutes, wondering if he was hungry. Aaron fell asleep with his head resting against my shoulder and I set him back down in the play pen.
I sat down on the Laz-E Boy and tried to read Ernest Hemmingway's A Farewell To Arms but I couldn't seem to concentrate.
I went back into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of orange juice and drank it in one go.
I went back into the living room and stared at the TV for a few minutes until Sarah spoke.
"Sam, you're pacing. Go outside and get some air."
"Okay," I said and made one last trip to the kitchen and grabbed three carrots.
I slipped on my shoes and stepped out onto the porch. If I was stressed about something I got to be kind of antsy, full of nervous energy. It didn't happen often and when it did it was never very bad, thankfully. Usually I just needed some time on my own to calm down, convince myself there was no reason to be anxious. Sarah didn't make a big deal about it, she'd point out if I was pacing or whatever and that'd be it. She remained calm, knowing that it would pass on its own. It was annoying more than anything else. Dean still didn't know that I was taking the medicine and I had no future plans to tell him…but that would make it difficult to relay my latest nightmare to him: he'd probably suggest I take the medicine and wouldn't that be grand when I replied 'oh, yeah, about that…I'm already taking the pills, I just didn't tell you all this time.'
I walked out to the pasture and hopped the fence. Marlowe was standing under the shade of the tree as I approached him. I held one of the carrots out on my flattened palm and the horse took the offering with what I imagined was a grateful expression.
Duncan and Ginger came over as if drawn by some special horse telepathy, eager for the treats as well.
The mare and her foal ran away with their prizes and I was left standing with the old gelding.
"Life is good, isn't it?" I asked the animal and followed as Marlowe began plodding deeper into the pasture.
I spent at least an hour in the pasture, thinking, talking aloud to Marlowe as if he could give his input. I resolved to tell Dean about my nightmare, it would come to nothing, I knew that but I needed to talk about my fears, fears I would not dare to tell Sarah about.
SPN
When I told S.J. we were going to visit Uncle Sam and Aunt Sarah and his cousins, the kid couldn't have been happier than if I had told him we were going to Disney World. He knew we were going to visit them soon and every time he asked when we were going either Lisa or I would answer 'tomorrow' and S.J. would ask if it was 'tomorrow' yet.
Since it was too far to drive to Montana with a three-year-old and a large golden retriever, we always flew, to my dismay.
It may seem strange that we'd fly every month to visit my brother and his family, not to mention expensive. But, luckily for us, Bobby knew a guy who had a small plane and because he owed the old hunter a favor for getting rid of a cursed locket the poor man's wife inherited from her witch of an aunt (and I mean a real witch with warts and hex bags and sacrificing innocent rabbits and everything…okay, maybe not warts but you get the point). Anyway, the guy flew us out to Montana every month for free because 'a friend of Bobby Singer's was a friend of his'.
I had an ulterior motive for visiting Sam every month; I used these 'social calls' to check up on my brother. I know what you must be thinking: Dean, Sam is twenty-nine years old! He's not a little kid anymore; he can take care of himself.
Well, you don't know Sam very well if you believe that.
I just wanted to make sure my brother was happy because as long as he was happy I was happy.
Speaking of being happy, Bobby was not happy when I phoned him and told him Sam had miraculously recovered from his coma. Don't get me wrong, the old hunter was happy that Sam was back on his feet after such a devastating injury but Bobby wasn't happy with me. There was no way I was going to tell the old man I had put in a good word with Death and had Sam's life traded for someone else's but Bobby wasn't stupid. The old hunter had let it slide when I told him that I didn't really have an explanation for why the Seraph Blade hadn't killed Sam as well (I was going with God on that one but I still wasn't a hundred percent sure) but he knew I had been up to something when Sam woke up from his irreversible coma. Bobby didn't even tear a strip off me; he just went really quiet (we were speaking over the phone and I could just imagine the old hunter shaking his head) and told me that he hoped I had done the right thing, that I had made the right decision. For Sam's sake, Bobby had made that clear, he hoped that whatever I had done wouldn't come back badly on Sam.
It wasn't like a demon deal, though, all I had asked for was a second chance for Sam and Death had granted it with no strings attached.
We landed at the Helena airport and we piled out of the plane. I was relieved to be on solid ground again. S.J. hadn't seemed to have inherited my dislike of flying, usually he was good about being in the plane, and he'd just sleep until we landed, but today he had thrown a temper tantrum while we were in the air. There was little we could do so he had cried and screamed for a good twenty minutes until he realized he was going to stay on the plane no matter what.
As usual, we rented a car from the Hertz place beside the airport and prepared ourselves for the two hour drive to Petite.
S.J, having tired himself out from his tantrum, slept most of the way to the small town. Ben had his nose stuck in his PSP like it was glued there.
"Ben, I hope you won't have that thing on during our entire visit," Lisa said from the passenger seat.
"You listen to your mom. I don't want a repeat of our last visit," I said in a warning tone.
During our last visit, Ben had decided he needed to save the virtual world from flesh-eating zombies and had barely left the video game alone for more than a few minutes. I had had enough of Ben's unsociable attitude and took the game away from him. I ignored his protests that he was on the final level and if he stopped now he'd have to start all over again.
Well, Ben said I couldn't play the 'Dad' Card because I wasn't his father and didn't speak to me for the rest of the time we were in Petite.
I couldn't see why Ben was making a big deal about it anyway. When we returned to Cicero, Lisa grounded Ben for talking back to me and embarrassing himself as well as us (Lisa had expected more maturity on his part). I know the kid is only twelve, going on thirteen, about to start grade eight in the fall, but c'mon, was that stupid game so important? Was the world going to end if he didn't finish it?
I know, I know, I have to be the mature one.
We pulled into the long, dirt driveway of Sarah and Sam's farm. I parked our little rented car beside the pickup and we piled out. Copper ran around the cars and barked like an idiot.
Lisa and I stepped onto the porch. Ben had S.J.'s hand but still stared at the PSP. The kid was going to give himself eye strain if he didn't stop that soon.
I raised a hand to knock on the door but Sarah was way ahead of me. She opened the door and smiled.
The four of us stepped inside.
"Aunt Lisa! Uncle Dean!" Faith shouted and ran to us.
She held her hands out and I picked her up in a hug, "how's my favourite niece?"
Faith giggled and I set her down.
Sarah smiled as S.J. and Faith hugged and her little girl led my son into the living room.
"Ben, go put a movie on for them, please," Sarah asked.
"Where's the man of the house?" I asked Sarah.
"He's in the pasture with the horses, I think," she answered and she and Lisa walked into the living room to sit with the kids.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer and stepped outside. Copper was sniffing the front lawn like there was something fascinating hidden there.
I climbed over the fence and walked into the field. I could hear crickets chirrup and grasshoppers leaped out of my way as I strolled on.
I found Sam lying on his back, his hands under his head and his eyes closed under the oak tree. He appeared to be sleeping.
I lowered one of the bottles, "hey, Sleeping Beauty, your way past your wake up call."
My brother opened his eyes and smiled. He sat up and took the offered beer.
Sam stood up and chuckled, shaking his head.
"What?" I asked and took a sip of my own beer.
"You know you don't have to keep coming up here every month," Sam said and opened the bottle of beer, putting the cap in his pocket.
"Well, I know I don't have to but I'd miss Sarah's cooking way too much," I said jokingly.
"I'm not stupid, Dean. I know you're checking up on me," Sam answered, serious now.
"I'm not 'checking up on you' I'm just…" I couldn't find the right words.
"You're just making sure nothing is wrong, you want to make sure I'm still in one piece," Sam answered and took a drink of beer.
"You're my little brother Sam; I'm always going to worry about you, I just want to make sure everything is alright and that you're happy," I said and walked a little out of the shade of the oak tree.
Sam followed and looked to see the horses cropping at the grass a few yards away. A troubled expression ghosted across my brother's face before it disappeared and his contented countenance returned.
"Is everything alright?" I asked, looking at my brother's green eyes and saw that haunted look that had not left since he had been 'ill' two years ago.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a telltale gesture that signaled he was, in fact, bothered by something.
"I... I need to talk to you about something Dean…" Sam looked up at me and I could see he was struggling with the idea of telling me whatever it was.
"What is it?" I asked, I was kind of worried now.
"I, uh, I had this nightmare last night. God, I don't know how to describe it without sounding crazy!" Sam exclaimed.
He seemed very on-edge and that surprised me: he had never been like this whenever I had visited previously.
I said nothing; I just drank my beer and let Sam sort things out on his own.
Sam cleared his throat, apparently he realized he was acting agitated and was making an effort to stop.
"I dreamt that I had been driving home late from Butte on day and I found Sarah and the kids…Sarah and Faith and Aaron were….dead…." Sam said sadly.
I allowed him to continue.
Sam went on to describe that his family hadn't just up and died, that they had been murdered, practically butchered. Sam told me about how he was arrested and accused of murdering his wife and children and the joke of a court trial. He told me about the circumstantial evidence the prosecution had brought up; he told me that I did not once show up while he was in jail. He told me what the jury's verdict had been and how he had seen Meg in the crowd outside of the courthouse. He told me about the freaky demon doctor at the asylum and how I had finally made an appearance only to condemn him.
"Is there more?" I asked. I could hardly believe Sam would think of something like this, okay, well not Sam, more like his sub-conscious self but still.
"Yeah, it got really cold and…and Lucifer appeared. He was the one who killed them, either he killed them himself or he had some demon do it… he said I would never be happy, that he would take away any happiness I had…" Sam stopped speaking and looked at the ground.
I took a deep breath. So this was what was causing Sam so much grief. He wasn't sure if Lucifer was dead. I knew that the Devil was dead, there was no way in Hell (pardon the pun) even he could survive being stabbed with his own Seraph Blade.
I set the bottle down on the ground and put two hands on my brother's shoulders.
"Look at me Sam," I commanded and his green eyes peered up at me, filled with fear.
"Lucifer is dead, he is. I was there, you killed him, okay? There is no way he could have lived through that- he may have been strong but he had the same weaknesses as every other angel. Lucifer. Is. Dead. You know he's dead right?" I paused and Sam nodded.
I released Sam's shoulders and heaved a sigh. Sam had been worried this entire time that Lucifer was still alive and kicking, thirsting for revenge but I had to believe otherwise. Sam had nearly preformed Seppuku on himself, there was no possible way the Devil could have survived being stabbed by his own weapon.
"I'm just so afraid that since I survived maybe he did," Sam whispered, still unsure.
I didn't know what to tell him. I could say that Lucifer was dead till I was blue in the face but I still thought Sam would doubt.
"Let's go inside and see if the ladies need any help with the rugrats," I said and picked up my beer bottle.
"One minute," Sam said and made a beeline for the barn.
Why were we going to the barn?
I waited on the ground while Sam went into the loft. I could hear him moving around, pushing piles of straw out of the way and then he climbed back down the ladder not five minutes later with a small tin box under his arm.
I recognized the box as the one that Bobby had let Sam borrow to keep Ruby's knife in. The box was closed with a Dudley combination lock. Sam held the box out to me.
"You take it Dean, I don't want it anymore," he said and proffered the box.
"Sam, you keep it. You need something to protect yourself with in case…" I didn't finish the sentence, I didn't have to.
Sam shook his head, "I don't feel comfortable with it here. Anyway, I can protect myself without the knife: I know how to exorcise without having a book in front of me; I can draw Devil's Traps…"
Sam didn't want that knife anywhere near his family so he was trying to give it back to me, but if I traded him the Colt for the knife would he refuse? Did it matter?
"No one's going to come after Sarah and the kids," I said.
"Then I don't need this than do I?" Sam asked rhetorically.
"Sam. Keep it!" I demanded of him.
"No, I am not going to keep something dangerous lying around where anyone can find it," Sam replied.
"I am not having this argument with you," I said and raised a hand to dismiss him.
"You're taking this back to Indiana with you," Sam said. I could see that he really didn't want the knife with him but I ignored him.
"What is wrong with you? I am trying to find ways to protect you that don't involve me actually being here and you just don't care?" I snapped.
"I am trying to protect my own family, Dean. What don't you understand about that?" Sam asked, he was getting angry, I could see it on his face.
"And what's to stop Lucifer from grabbing a knife from the kitchen if I do take Ruby's?" I demanded before I could stop myself.
Sam paused and blinked, as stunned as I was that I had said what I did.
"I didn't mean it Sam," I said immediately.
I had just wanted to let him know that if any preternatural creature intended to harm his family they would find a way, whether they could get a hold of the demon knife or not.
"Dean," Sam said carefully. He didn't look at me.
"Sam, you know I'd be devastated if anything happened to Sarah and the kids," I said just as carefully.
Still Sam would not look at me. He was taking deep breaths as though he was fighting off a panic attack or something, I didn't know.
"Sam? Sammy?" I stepped forward and put a hand on my brother's shoulder.
"I can't take it anymore Dean," Sam whispered.
"What? What's wrong?" I asked. All the anger inside me had been extinguished as soon as I saw my brother was struggling.
"This! This life. I feel like I'm living a lie and I can't stand it anymore!" Sam exclaimed, he looked at me with a sad expression in his green eyes.
Once again I was stunned into silence. I was confused.
"Whatever's wrong we'll fix it, okay? We always do," I said, trying to comfort my brother.
Sam. Ever since he had been brought back he had been different, damaged, not like the old Sam. I knew that, of course I did, but sometimes I wished I could have my old brother back, the one who was so sure of himself all the time, the brother who never took shit from anyone. I didn't want this new Sam. This new Sam had wounds that seemed would never heal, wounds I would never understand and a part of me resented him for that. A part of me hated the fact that this new Sam was so weak. I liked to believe I had recovered from my stay Downstairs and silently demanded that Sam get over his. But it was a lie, in reality, although I rarely thought about it at all, I still had my own wounds, scars by now but wounds all the same.
If you're going through Hell, keep going; didn't Winston Churchill say that once? I had gotten through my own Hell, it was difficult and painful, yes, but I had come out on the other side with battle scars but nothing compared to Sam's. I had a feeling Sam was still in Hell (metaphorically speaking) that he was trapped and had lost the road.
I needed to help Sam, lead him out of his personal Hell but I was reluctant to stray into that territory. I was afraid of revealing to Sam secrets I had been keeping from him: like the deal I had made with Death, for example.
I sighed and continued to comfort my brother. After a few minutes, Sam gained his composure and sighed.
He looked at me sheepishly and I shrugged.
"Let's go inside," I said.
Sam sat the box with the knife in it on the floor by the barn door and we walked to the house.
I didn't know what to do. I was shocked at Sam's reaction. I wasn't sure I understood how Sam was feeling and I didn't know why he would feel the way he was. For all intents and purposes he appeared to be happy and well adjusted but our conversation had just revealed there was trouble in paradise.
Before we stepped inside Sam turned to me.
"If you don't take the knife, I'll give it to Bobby for safekeeping."
"I'd really prefer if you kept it Sam," I said.
"What do you want me to do? Keep it in the knife-drawer?" Sam asked but he smiled slightly.
"No, I'd feel better if you slept with it under your pillow but I doubt that's going to happen," I joked and smiled with my brother.
Sam gave a low chuckle and we went inside.
Faith, S.J. and Ben were sitting on the couch in the living room watching that Finding Nemo movie. Ben was probably bored out of his mind but he just sat in between his brother and cousin without a word. I noticed he didn't have his PSP with him and thought that maybe Lisa had taken it away from him.
Sarah and Lisa were in the kitchen, drinking wine and chatting. The scent of tomato sauce, basil, garlic and Italian seasonings wafted from the kitchen. Lisa was cradling Aaron and cooing to him as she rocked him back and forth. I was amazed at how big he had gotten in only a couple of months.
"Spaghetti?" I asked as Sam grabbed a couple of wine glasses from the cabinet and poured some red wine into them. Yeah, Sam and I drink wine now.
"Yup, I need to practice my sauce making skills," Sarah said as Sam and I sat down.
"It smells great," Sam said and took at sip of wine.
The four of us sat and talked for a while, waiting for the sauce to cook. Aaron was back in his play pen in the living room, taking a nap. After a while, since it was still too early to prepare dinner, Sarah grabbed a deck of cards and poker chips and we played. When we had first met Sarah she had no idea how to play poker, she knew games like crib and bridge, so Sam had taken it upon himself to teach her. Sarah was good, but not as good as Sam or I.
"It's hardly worth playing with you two since you always win," Lisa laughed as she shuffled the cards for our fifth round.
Usually Lisa and Sarah would end up folding and it was between Sam and I. Personally, I think they just liked to watch the amount of concentration Sam and I had when we played.
We ate dinner early. The pasta was good; I don't know why Sarah needed to 'practice' her cooking skills.
It amused me that Faith ate just plain pasta, with absolutely nothing on it. The girl refused any sauce whatsoever and ate as though the noodles were some sort of delicacy. S.J., on the other hand was not a picky eater at all. He ate anything and everything. Sarah took turns feeding herself and Aaron. She would spoon some cereal up for Aaron and then take a bite of her own dinner.
Sam and I washed the dishes, making small talk really; I told him how my contracting business was going, Sam told me how he was thinking of hiring some more people at the library, etc.
When the dishes were clean and back in the cupboards and drawers, Sarah and Lisa practically kicked us out of the house, saying they wanted some time to talk about girl stuff. Sam and I just shook our heads and went outside. We got into Sam's pickup truck and drove far down the road until we were past the farms and entering pure prairie.
It was just before sundown and the sky was a brilliant rose colour, darkening to violet. Sam turned off the engine and we sat in silence for a number of minutes.
"What's on your mind?" I asked my brother; in the fading light I could discern his pensive expression.
"I'm not sure…I mean, I know but I don't know quite how to put it into words," Sam said.
There was a pregnant pause and I finally spoke.
"Is it about what you said earlier?" I guessed.
"Sort of. I guess so," Sam was still reluctant to speak.
I watched the sun make its descent below the horizon and waited for Sam to speak as I watched the sky turn indigo, violet, navy blue...
"It's just…oh, never mind," Sam finally said and I was slightly disappointed and relieved at the same time.
I wanted to know if something was wrong but at the same time I didn't want to divulge any secrets I was keeping hidden from my brother.
Sam and I sat quietly in the cab of the truck and watched the stars appear in the inky sky. The moon rose, fat and full, tinged a red colour that the superstitious believe foretells evil to come.
Sam had just turned on the truck's engine and we were just about to go back to the farm when we jumped at a sharp tapping on the driver's window.
My brother peered out the window, confused for a moment and then stepped outside in a quick motion.
I peered around and saw two figures in dark field.
Sam stuck his head in the truck and motioned for me to step out.
I wasn't sure what was going on, I thought that maybe someone thought we were trespassing and had called the cops but in the glare of the pickups headlights I could make out that one of the figures was wearing a dark greatcoat and the other a tan trench coat.
"Cas? Abdiel?" I asked as I stepped around the front of the truck and sure enough the two angels stood there, looking almost exactly like they had the last time I had seen them.
"Hello Dean," Cas said in his gravelly voice.
Abdiel tipped his hat to me. Both angels looked tired and haggard.
"What are you doing here?" Sam asked Abdiel.
"We need your help," Abdiel answered.
"Hold on a minute guys, I thought we were retired," I said and held up my hands.
"This will not take long, Dean. We need you to retrieve the Horsemen's rings for us," Cas said.
"Why would you two need the rings?" I asked, unable to hide the suspicion from my voice.
"We are losing the battle, Dean. Raphael is much stronger than we anticipated and Belial has also decided to fight us- the fallen angels want back into Heaven," Cas answered.
"So in a nutshell, we're fighting two enemies at the same time. Our forces are divided and because of that we are not as strong as we need to be to defeat Raphael and Belial," Abdiel added. He looked in the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out a book of matches and a cigarette. The angel lit the cigarette and sighed in a tired sort of way.
"Divide and conquer," Sam muttered. He looked to me with one eyebrow raised and a questioning look on his face. This was my decision- only Bobby and I knew where the Horsemen's rings were.
I wasn't sure what to say. Of course I wanted to help the angels out but, then again, I didn't want to get involved in something I couldn't get out of.
"Why do you need them?" I asked.
"Even all of our forces, as they are split in two, cannot hope of defeating either Raphael or Belial so we require the assistance of a powerful ally-" Cas began but Abdiel cut him off, apparently annoyed in the other angel's long-winded explanation.
"We need to spring Michael from Lucifer's cage," Abdiel said and blew out a stream of white cigarette smoke.
I blinked, stunned.
"You want to let Michael out in the hopes that he'll agree to fight Raphael?" Sam asked.
"That was pretty much the plan, mate," Abdiel said.
"I thought Raphael and Michael were all chummy with each other, why would they want to go at it against one another?" I asked. I was under the impression that the two archangels were in cahoots.
"Michael is very arrogant and jealous, he will surely be affronted by the fact that Raphael is attempting to rule," Cas said matter-of-factly.
"If, and this is a big 'if'. If we get you the rings and you let Michael out, that's it right? Sam and I are not involved any farther than that, right?" I asked. I rubbed my face with one hand and looked at Sam.
"Just get us the rings and we'll do the rest," Abdiel said.
"Okay, I'll go get them," I said and Sam nodded in agreement.
"Cas, we need to go to Bobby's," I said and the angel stepped forward to put a hand on my sleeve.
The sense of vertigo was so strong it nearly made me blackout- it had been a long time since I had travelled by angel teleportation.
We landed on our feet in the midst of Bobby's junk yard (luckily I had remembered at the last moment to bend my knees). Cas strode off in the direction of the old hunter's house without saying a word.
"Hold on Cas," I said and had to jog to keep pace with the angel.
Cas stopped and looked at me. I wondered if he was still upset about God possibly saving Sam from dying when he had stabbed himself with the Seraph Blade.
"Abdiel told me you bargained with Death to save your brother's life," Cas said in an accusatory voice.
"Well, I mean it wasn't much of a bargain. I just asked him and he said yes," I said with a cocky smirk.
Cas glared daggers at me.
"Sometimes your stupidity astounds me, Dean," the angel said.
"Hey! I couldn't just let Sam die in some hospital in Alaska," I said, "He would have done the same for me if our situations were reversed."
"Dean, your brother was not meant to live. What you did now affects Sam and everyone he comes into contact with," Cas answered.
I thought about earlier that day when Sam had said sometimes it felt as if he was living a lie. I had thought he was talking about being an ex-hunter but maybe there was more to it than that.
"Did Abdiel find out what's going on with God and Death?" I asked. Cas began to walk through the maze of totaled cars and I followed close behind him.
"We have been a little preoccupied if you have not noticed," Cas practically growled.
Okay, I could let that go because he was fighting a war with his siblings and anyone would be short-tempered if they had to go through that.
I wanted to continue this conversation but the angel would not speak of it. We stomped up the front porch and Cas rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.
Bobby flung the door open and stared at Cas and I for a moment.
"Hey, old man," I said.
"Who are you calling an old man?" Bobby asked and smiled.
"Bobby," Cas said and Bobby looked unexpectedly at the angel.
"Well Castiel, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," the old hunter said and made way so we could enter his humble abode.
"Why are you two here? Where's Sam?" Bobby asked. I noticed he had a pair of reading glasses in one hand.
"Sam is still in Montana- he's fine, he's with Abdiel. We need the Horsemen's rings," I said.
Things had been slightly tense between me and the old hunter because I refused to tell Sam what I had done to save him. Bobby had told me I shouldn't keep such a thing secret from my brother but I was adamant that Sam didn't need to know.
"What for?" Bobby asked, looking from Cas to me and back again.
"We need to free Michael in order to win the war against Raphael and Belial," Cas said without hesitation.
"Uh huh, and you're okay with this?" Bobby asked me.
I shrugged, "Lucifer's dead so Michael can't have his death-match. I figure it's the least I can do after all the time Cas had to put up with me."
"Well, I guess that settles it," Bobby said and perched the glasses on his nose and led the way outside.
In Bobby's tool shed we grabbed flashlights and shovels. We knew where the rings were, buried at four different points in Bobby's yard.
We went to the spot that was closest and Bobby and I took turns digging. The hole wasn't really that big but it was deep. Castiel stood and watched as we unearthed the box containing War's ring. Bobby had made four boxes, demon and angel proof, to keep the Horsemen's rings in. I took the box and brushed it off. I wasn't going to open it now, best to wait until we got back to Montana, better safe than sorry.
Next we retrieved Famine's ring, than Pestilence's and finally Death's. I handed the four metal boxes to Cas and sighed.
"There you have it," I said to the angel, "uh, can I have those back when you're done with them?"
The angel nodded, "I will return the rings to you for safekeeping. Even with Lucifer dead they would still be immensely dangerous if they fell into the hands of a demon."
"Sorry to cut the visit short but we have to let an archangel out on bail," I told Bobby and the old hunter nodded.
Cas grabbed my sleeve and vertigo greeted me.
We landed in the prairie in Montana. The same field we had just left. Sam and Abdiel were standing near the truck. I suddenly wondered if Abdiel would tell Sam that I had talked to Death and convinced the Horseman to spare my brother.
"You got 'em?" Abdiel asked and stepped forward.
The boxes were locked with a combination so I set them down on the hood of the pickup and opened each and scooped out the rings. I tipped the rings into the angel's waiting palm; they chimed like bells as the fell.
l"You two might not want to stand so close," Abdiel advised, "up on that ridge will be alright."
Sam and I got into the pickup (pausing to take the tin boxes from Bobby's with me) and my brother drove up to the top of a low hill about fifteen yards away.
We sat in the cab and watched the two angels prepare to raise Michael.
"What did Abdiel say?" I asked. I wanted to know if the angel had told Sam but I didn't want it to be obvious I was prying.
"He asked about Sarah," Sam said, watching the scene below.
"That's it?" I asked.
Sam shrugged, "he said he was happy for me. I don't know, we were waiting for you and Cas to come back."
"Okay," I said. Why was Sam on the defensive all of a sudden? Had Abdiel said something?
We watched as Abdiel put the rings together and tossed them in the grass. We couldn't hear him but I knew he'd speak the Enochian incantation to open the Cage.
Sam and I ducked, shielding our faces and covering our ears as a bright white light cut through the dark night and that high-frequency static sound began.
The ground beneath the truck shook as though there was an earthquake and I was afraid the windows would shatter.
Just as suddenly as the cacophony and tremors and searing light started, they stopped and all was quiet.
I looked up and blinked. I could see the stars and the full moon and, peering down, I could make out the spot where the two angels had raised their brother. What I didn't see though, were the angels.
I got out of the truck and looked around. Sam slid from the driver's seat and looked at me with his unique confused expression.
"Did it work?" Sam asked.
I shook my head, "I don't know."
Sam came around to my side of the pickup and looked even more confused than ever.
"Maybe they just went back to Heaven," he said.
"Sam Winchester," a familiar voice said from behind us.
Both Sam and I turned around and saw Michael standing only feet away from us.
"It worked," I said without enthusiasm.
Where were Cas and Abdiel? Had the archangel killed them when he was released?
"You are just full of surprises, aren't you Sam?" Michael said and stepped closer.
Neither Sam nor I could move; we were trapped between the angel and the truck.
"I'm just lucky I guess," Sam said without meeting the archangel's gaze.
Michael chuckled, "it has nothing to do with luck."
Sam looked to one side, understandably uncomfortable in the archangel's presence.
Now I was feeling uneasy; what did Michael know that we did not?
Michael turned his blue-eyed gaze on me and smiled condescendingly.
"I know many things you cannot ever hope to fathom, Dean," he said as though he had read my mind.
"I know what Lucifer did to you in Hell, Sam. I was there, I saw everything. I saw how he drove you to the edge of sanity and with one final nudge; he would have pushed you off the brink…" Michael said, his grin widening.
"You should have been there, Dean. With the skills you learned from Alistair it would have been very entertaining to watch," Michael looked at me and his grin faded.
"Michael!" Abdiel's British voice barked.
The archangel turned to see Abdiel standing behind him, an angry expression on his face.
"Abdiel, how long has it been?" Michael said with mock joy in his voice at seeing his brother.
"Many centuries," Abdiel took a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lit it, waved the match out and took a drag.
"I thought for sure you would have 'gone native'," Michael said to the angel.
"As much as I prefer the company of humans to that of my own family, I would not go so far as to lose my Grace," Abdiel said in a distracted voice.
Michael took on a superior expression, apparently he still considered Abdiel foolish for staying on Earth.
"You've heard about what's going on at home, then?" Abdiel asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Raphael has overstepped his bounds, his arrogance will be his undoing," Michael said angrily.
"Good, let's get this over with then," Abdiel flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the toe of his spat shoe.
Without further ado, the two angels disappeared.
Sam and I each took a deep breath. My brother closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them again and looked at me.
A warm breeze alerted us to the fact that Cas had just appeared.
The angel held out his hand and gave me back the Horsemen's rings.
Before Sam or I could ask Cas anything, the angel disappeared and we were left alone.
Without saying a word to each other, Sam and I got into the truck and slowly drove back to the farm. As we drove, I placed each Horsemen's ring back into its respective box and locked it.
When we arrived back at Sam's, Sarah and Lisa were surprised to see us back so late. We had been gone for two hours.
"We went into town for a little bit," Sam said without conviction.
Sarah asked Sam to put the horses in for the night and my brother nodded. I followed him out to the pasture where he whistled for the animals. The horses came running, they knew the routine.
I watched as Sam opened the gate and one by one the horses walked right to the barn and to their stalls. Turning on the overhead lights, Sam proceeded to brush each horse slowly. I offered to help but he just shook his head.
"Take the knife, Dean," Sam said quietly.
I sighed, "okay, okay."
I was too exhausted to argue with him. Digging up the rings hadn't tired me out; it was more of an emotional exhaustion rather than a physical one. I guessed that Sam probably felt the same.
After a half an hour, Sam finished and I picked up the box that held Ruby's demon killing knife.
We went inside and slipped off our shoes. Although it was only eleven, I could barely keep my eyes open. After some negotiation, Sarah and Lisa agreed to call it a night. The boys were already asleep in the upstairs guest bedroom anyway.
Since my first visit to Montana, Sarah and Sam had finished the basement up and put in an extra bedroom for guests.
The basement was cooler than the rest of the house and when Lisa and I finally lay down on the bed, I found I was slightly cold.
I don't know how long I laid there, long after Lisa had fallen asleep because I could hear her slow, even breathing.
Finally I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep…
I was standing in what had to be an old-fashioned operating room in a hospital. Everything was white: the floor, the walls, the ceiling, even the fluorescent lighting. Along the upper level of the room were plate glass windows for observations. I could have been at Johns Hopkins. I was wearing a doctor's clothes, ready for surgery. I had white scrubs on, white shoes, a white mask over my mouth and latex gloves. I looked up at the observation window and saw only unfamiliar faces, doctors waiting eagerly to watch.
I looked down at the hospital table and my stomach dropped when I saw Sam lying there. My heart pounded in my chest: Sam wasn't anesthetized; he was fully conscious, staring up at me with green eyes filled with fear.
I froze, I couldn't move. What was I supposed to do? I looked around for the exit but saw only white tile walls.
"Doctor, are you ready?" a female voice made me look up and I was staring across the table at Meg.
The demon's eyes were jet but she had on a nurse's outfit, ready to assist in whatever it was I was going to do.
My mouth went dry as my hand moved of its own volition toward a tray of wicked looking instruments that had no right to be in a hospital. I picked up a knife-like weapon with a long, thin blade.
"Dean, please don't do this," Sam whimpered, his eyes were as large as saucers.
I looked down at my brother, saw his terrified expression and felt angry at him.
"Don't worry Sam, I'm going to help you," I said in a soothing voice.
"Think about what you're doing," Sam spoke quickly, his gaze never left the instrument in my hand.
"It's going to be okay, Sam. I'm going to fix you," I said. I was talking but I had no control of the words coming out of my mouth, it was like I was possessed.
"Dean! Please!" Sam strained to sit up, to get away but it was though some invisible force was holding him down.
I ducked my hand down and cut. Blood splattered. Sam's cries fell on deaf ears. Meg whispered encouragement to me, her dark eyes filled with malignant glee.
I couldn't or wouldn't stop. I was lost in what I was doing. I only paused to grab a different tool.
I looked up and wasn't surprised at all to see that now in Meg's place stood Ruby, looking exactly as she had in that old convent, when Sam released Lucifer.
Ruby turned her gaze to Sam with no pity in her expression. Sam should have been long dead by now, but he wasn't I didn't know what was keeping him alive and conscious. The only sound in the room was my brother's ragged gasps and cries of pain, my measured breaths and the steady dripping of blood.
All I could think was that I needed to fix Sam, something was telling me I needed to cure him and this was the only way, no matter how cruel it appeared, that Sam would thank me in the end.
In short time crimson blood had spattered the walls, pooled on the floor and streaked my hospital clothes.
The coppery smell of blood and the sour stench of fear filled the air so thick I could taste it and I gagged.
I chanced a glance up and jumped when I saw who had taken Ruby's place: Alistair.
I gazed at the demon in shock and stepped back.
Alistair glanced down at Sam, "nice work Dean, couldn't have done better myself."
No, Alistair had nothing to do with this! I was helping Sam, not harming him.
From nowhere the demon produced an evil looking blade, "now it's my turn."
I watched in horror as the demon bent over Sam and my brother's cries renewed, begging me to help him…
I woke with a start and sat up in bed. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could feel sweat running down my back.
I drew my knees to my chest and placed my head in my hands until I had calmed.
It was just a nightmare, I told myself, and you've had nightmares before.
Sure I've had nightmares before, but not like that, certainly not like that for a long time.
I let out a small groan as I recalled the dream.
"Go back to sleep, Dean," Lisa muttered in her sleep beside me.
I knew I wouldn't go back to sleep that night. I stood and padded up the stairs and into the living room. I could just make out the bookshelf and grabbed at one of the volumes, moved to the recliner and clicked on the lamp.
I had picked The Catcher In The Rye and I sat for a few minutes with the book on my lap.
Now, I am not one to analyze my dreams and see hidden meanings in what they show me but I thought that the message of that nightmare could come back to my desire to help Sam but not really knowing how. Also, my subconscious had probably been mulling over what Michael had said and had dredged up my fear of becoming a monster, a demon. Mentioning Alistair had been below-the-belt and it had brought back some better-off-suppressed memories of my stay in Hell.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and nestled into the chair and opened the book, I would be there for a while. Copper appeared from the kitchen where he had been sleeping and walked over to me. The golden retriever placed his yellow head on my knee and looked up at me with his liquid-brown eyes.
"Make yourself comfortable, pal," I whispered to the dog.
Copper seemed to understand me and lay down beside the chair with a sigh.
SPN
It had been good to see Abdiel again. It had been such a long time and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get the chance to speak with his again. Under better circumstances it would have been a more pleasant conversation. The angel was distracted and obviously worried about the battle but he made an effort to ask me about Sarah and how I was doing, etc.
I didn't know why Dean wanted to know what Abdiel had asked me, what did it matter? My brother had looked unconvinced when I told him the truth and that made me suspicious of him. What did he think the angel had told me?
I lay awake in bed for a long while. I just listened to Sarah's slow, peaceful breathing and tried to will myself to fall asleep.
I was very uncomfortable knowing that Michael had witnessed my torture in Hell. Of course I knew the archangel was there, I just didn't think he'd be watching Lucifer. Michael also would know about everything, everything I refrained from telling Dean and Sarah, every memory so terrible I kept locked away even from myself, stored away where they wouldn't surface.
The night grew late and I grew tired. I could feel my eyelids grow heavy and my breathing slowed until I was in that odd threshold between sleep and waking…
I was in a forest. There was snow on the ground, some banks coming up to my knees. I saw stark, black trees. The snow was painted silver by the full moon hanging bloated and yellow in the night sky. I did not feel cold. I could have been in Alaska or Canada or Germany.
I took a step forward and heard a distant howl and then another and another in answer. The air was filled with the eerie sound that sent a shiver up my spine and raised goose bumps on my arms. They were not wolves. I knew exactly what they were and they were coming closer.
I was defenseless. I had no weapons. All I could do was run. I trudged through snow that seemed as thick as glue.
Very quickly I was out of breath but I didn't pause. Tree branches as sharp as knives snagged at my clothes and scratched my face but I didn't dare stop. I could hear them coming closer.
Inch by inch I moved forward but they also moved forward and with greater speed than I could manage. I knew if they caught me I'd be dead, there was no question about it.
I saw the moonlight reflecting sharply on the slick surface of a frozen lake. I moved toward the body of water, I don't know why but something told me they would be reluctant to go onto the ice. Maybe.
My sneakers skidded across the slippery surface. I looked down and saw the ice was as polished as a mirror. I saw my reflection, my eyes were wide, I was pale and blood dripped from a dozen cuts on my face.
I heard, rather than saw them break through the trees and they came at the frozen lake, snapping and growling.
I slid further out, toward the center. The closest one stepped onto the ice. I could tell because the sheet crackled under its weight. I stepped backwards; I was ready to run if they decided the ice posed no obstacle.
I heard the ice squeal and crackle and barely had time to take a breath before I was plunged into freezing water.
The cold made my limbs seize painfully and I gulped down the chilling liquid that filled my lungs. I involuntarily gasped for air and only succeeded in choking down more water.
I forced my frozen limbs to move and keep from sinking. I could see the hole in the ice where I fell and a figure standing just over it.
My arms and legs refused to respond and my vision began to go dark when I felt a fever-warm hand grab my wrist.
The figure pulled me toward the surface and I saw it was Sarah. She was wearing a long black dress, her expression determined.
How could she do that? She somehow had the strength to pull me up to the surface and avoid being a chew-toy.
"Sarah!" I gasped. I was laying half-out and half-in the water. I somehow managed to find the strength to pull myself out of the chill water and crouched there on the ice, before my wife. I coughed up the cold water and panted for breath. Now I felt the cold. I shivered violently and my wet clothes and hair began to turn to ice.
Sarah looked at me with a loving expression and placed a warm palm on my cheek. I could hear them but they apparently didn't want to come near my wife.
"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," I said over and over again in a chant.
Sarah put a finger to my lips and I stopped.
"Sarah," I whispered as I shuddered with cold. Her name seemed to be all I could say.
The dark ice reflected in my wife's eyes. Her breath on my face was very warm and smelled sweet, almost like peppermint.
"Shhh," Sarah said, "things fall apart; the center cannot hold."
"What?" I managed to gasp between my chattering teeth.
Sarah's palm never left my cheek as she continued to speak, "Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."
My wife looked away from me, behind me at them. Standing on the edge of the ice, waiting patiently, they were in no hurry.
What was Sarah talking about?
"Please Sarah," I whispered, "let's go."
My wife looked at me with sorrowful eyes.
Sarah moved her palm from my face to take one of my hands in hers.
She stood and pulled me up with her. The ice that encased me seemed to vaporize and I walked with Sarah to the edge of the lake.
Sarah looked up at me and kissed my cheek and spoke one last time, "Why, if it was an illusion, not praise the catastrophe, whatever it was, that destroyed illusion and put truth in its place?"
I glanced behind and although I could not see them, I knew they were following us… but at a distance.
We walked slowly, ever so slowly. I wondered how Sarah did not feel the cold, clad in only a black evening gown and black high-heeled shoes. I was still very cold from falling into the lake.
The snow crunched beneath our feet like bones. Clouds scudded across the sky to obscure the moon. I could hear them as they walked across the ice, they growled and whined.
Sarah and I stopped on the edge of the forest. My wife looked at me with a terribly sad expression. I wanted to ask Sarah what was wrong but as soon as I opened my mouth she disappeared in a gust of warm wind reminiscent of an angel.
I was not frightened. I took a deep breath and turned to face them. I wasn't going to run away any longer… they lunged…
I opened my eyes and realized I had fallen asleep. I was lying on my back, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. I had no idea what my dream meant. A forest in winter, nighttime, Hell Hounds, Sarah…
I sighed and looked over at my wife. Sarah was lying on her side, facing me. I could see a small smile on her lips as she dreamed.
Without disturbing Sarah I stood up and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I closed the door and turned on the light.
Squinting at the brightness, I opened the medicine cabinet. I grabbed a small bottle of sleeping pills and took two of them. I closed the cabinet and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked no different than I had earlier that day. I don't know what I expected to see, if anything.
I shook my head and turned out the light, opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall. I saw that there was a light on downstairs that had not been on before.
Must be Dean, I thought. I considered going down the steps but decided against it. I needed sleep and I was sure Dean was just getting himself a midnight snack. Yeah, he acted like my house was a second home and he'd often take the liberty of raiding the fridge in the middle of the night.
I went back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Sarah had pulled all the blankets to her side so that she was cocooned in them. She had a habit of doing that while she slept, especially if I got up during the night. I grabbed the quilt that was folded on the end of our bed and draped it over myself as I lay down.
My eyes were already beginning to feel heavy and I knew the pills were working. I allowed my eyelids to close on their own and concentrated on breathing in a slow, even pace. The room was pleasantly warm and I felt myself drifting, drifting as sleep overcame me in its welcoming embrace.