A/N: The brothers take a few days off and Sam decides to try reading some objects to see if he can get himself out of it. Practice makes perfect, as they say. I do like reviews. NC

Chapter 12

With two days free from training, Dean slept in on Saturday and Sam got up and gathered their laundry to get it done since they were running out of clean clothes and Dean did hint about doing it. He pulled dirty clothes from Dean's duffle and noticed something in a plastic bag sticking up in an inside pocket that was unzipped. He looked over at his sleeping brother, not sure if he should pry or not. Being curious, he slipped the plastic bag out and saw several things in the bag. There were pictures of their family after he was born. There was one of Dean and their Mom and one of a young Dean holding a blanket bundle and he could just make out his face sticking out. Dean was beaming with pride and joy and looked so innocent and happy.

Tears pricked his eyes as he looked at the other items, concert, and sporting stubs from where they had gone, newspaper clippings and what looked like report cards. He didn't take anything out, not feeling right disturbing it. Sam started to put the bag back into the pocket and noticed another plastic bag. He pulled it out seeing what looked like a baby blanket inside. Sam opened the bag and carefully took out the threadbare, tattered, blue striped blanket, looking closely at it and saw his name sewn in a corner, 'Sammy'. This was his security blanket that he had had since birth.

Sam felt it coming on and closed his eyes as he was swept away into the mist for a moment until a scene started taking shape. He saw younger versions of them in a bedroom. Sam figured he was about five or six and Dean was ten or eleven. He was sitting on the bed and Dean was holding his security blanket as he talked. Sam thought for a moment and this memory came to him. This was when Dean told him he was too big for a security blanket and he couldn't take it to school with him because the other kids would laugh at him. Dean told him he was a big boy now since he was starting school.

Sam had thought Dean threw the blanket away, but he saw him put it in his duffle instead when he wasn't looking. He guessed Dean had kept it all this time and pulled back out of the vision with ease. Carefully, Sam put the blanket back into the plastic bag and slid it into the side pocket of Dean's duffle and smiled to himself thinking Dean was full of surprises. He would let this secret stay one and gathered up the clothes to head downstairs. He cast a quick glance at his brother as he stepped from the room, as a warmth filled his chest. Dean may not say it, but he knew he loved him and would do anything for him.

Sam helped Missouri in the garden weeding and gathering the vegetables that were ripe, until it was time for lunch. He would run in and check the laundry, moving the washed clothes to the dryer and putting in the last load to wash. When Missouri decided they were finished and went inside, they found Dean had finally gotten up and was munching on some leftovers from breakfast that he had missed.

Sam joined him at the table and discussed the progression each was making in learning about their powers, their limits, and controlling them. Sam talked about astral projection and Dean talked about trying to move from one place to another. It seemed they had some different powers and that made it even better for them when they started hunting again. Both knew they needed to be careful that no one saw them use their powers or they might end up in trouble from other hunters who were not as opened minded as the ones they knew.

Missouri took a call from Mama Edeline and told them on Monday they would be swapping out, Sam would go see Mama Edie and Dean would stay with her. Neither brother found this upsetting or unusual, thinking it would give them extra help and a different perspective about their powers.

Dean called Bobby on Sunday morning to let him know what was going on and that they were still doing okay. He filled him in on how they were progressing and told him about Mama Edeline helping him with his powers and Missouri was helping Sam. Bobby asked how long they were going to be staying, but Dean couldn't tell him because he didn't know. He told Bobby that he would stay in touch with him and let him know when they were heading his way. They left it at that for now and bade each other goodbye.

spn

Sam stepped out onto the deck with a book, deciding to catch up on some reading and saw Dean standing by the railing. He hadn't noticed him yet and Sam watched, trying to figure out what he was doing. Dean would stiffen his body and a deep frown crossed his face like he was concentrating extremely hard on something. He stayed like that for nearly a minute and then opened his eyes and looked down.

"Damnit!" he swore.

"Ummm…Dean…Are you okay?" Sam asked cautiously. "'Cause it looks like you're constipated and trying to take a dump." He did his best not to laugh as Dean gave him his own bitch face.

"What? No, I was trying to see if I could move a few feet," Dean replied. "Mama Edeline thinks I probably can with some practice."

"Really? That's cool, have you had any luck?"

"Nope, haven't moved an inch."

"Maybe you're trying too hard. What if you loosened up and kind of just let it happen? Like how you produce fire so easily. I think the harder you try, the less likely you'll succeed."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Dean sighed dropping into a lounge chair beside Sam. "I'll try again later."

"So, how are you doing with everything, all this powers stuff? You still okay?"

Sam looked over at Dean for a moment seeing he was being serious and looked out into the yard mulling it over in his mind before answering.

"I look at it this way, I didn't ask for these powers and I can't just snap my fingers and make them go away, so, I decided to make the most of them and learn how to use them. At least I don't have to worry about being addicted to the demon blood and using it as a crutch to make them work. They are really mine now and I can do as I wish with them. If it'll make our job easier or maybe save our lives one day, then it is worth it. No use letting them go to waste. How about you? Are you still good?"

"I think I am. I can feel inside me that I've changed and can do these things now, but I'm me and I don't think I'll go Darth Vader any time soon. The two forces are kind of balancing each other out and I'm learning how to access the demon part without feeling like I'll turn evil. If that makes sense."

"Yeah, it does, and I feel the same way. Maybe I was supposed to go evil and all, but I don't feel that way. I still know right from wrong and I want to do good with my powers."

"As long as we keep each other in check, I think we'll be okay Sammy. We ground each other and are stronger together. It's always been like that."

"I want to try reading an object, like Dad's medal, while you're here to see if I can pull myself out of it like I did with the good ones I saw. Will you help me in case I get stuck again?"

"Sure Sammy, no problem. You saw some good ones?"

"Yeah, Missouri gave me an old doll of hers and I saw her as a child swinging on a swing. I saw her Momma too."

"That does sound nice. What do you want to practice with?"

"I wanted something that might have some bad memories and was thinking maybe a weapon, or do we have anything else of Dad's we could use?"

"Let me go check my bag and the trunk of the car. I'll see if I can find something that maybe won't be too painful," Dean replied getting up and heading back inside. He was glad Sam wanted him here when he tried this so he could help if needed.

spn

Sam looked up when Dean came back out and sat taller, curious to see what he had found. He waited for him to sit in the lounge chair beside him and watched as he laid several things beside him. Dean picked up a pouch and opened it shaking out two stones.

"These are arrowheads I found back behind Bobby's in that big field when Dad dumped us off there one summer. I think I was twelve or thirteen and I explored the woods and all around there." He held out his hand showing two nicely chiseled arrowheads.

Sam looked at them for a moment before reaching to take the largest one. He turned it over in his hand for a moment and studied it before closing his fingers around the stone. He pinched his brow as he concentrated on the stone.

Dean watched Sam's expression closely, tensing to be ready if Sam needed him. His hands hung loosely between his legs as he leaned forward getting ready if Sam didn't pull himself back out. He saw Sam's breathing get shallow as he went under.

The mist rolled in and Sam knew it was starting and he tried to relax and not loose himself this time. When the mist started to clear, Sam saw a Native American village with elders, women, and children moving around doing daily activities. There were a few warriors milling around, but not many. He saw a warrior pick up a bow and quiver of arrows, adding several others before shouldering it and jogging toward the forest that surrounded the camp. Sam moved with him and watched as he started tracking his prey. It was easy for Sam to follow him and within the hour of this time, the warrior took down a deer and headed back to the village with his kill. Sam could see smoke in the distance, and it wasn't from a cooking fire.

After throwing down the deer, the warrior took off running and Sam followed. They broke out into the clearing to find the dwellings on fire and dead bodies strewn around the camp. Sam skidded to a stop and looked in horror at the dead elders, women, and children. A wail broke the air as the warrior fell to his knees beside a woman that Sam figured was his wife. She was cradling their dead child to her chest like she was trying to protect it but didn't succeed. The warrior screamed his rage and dipped his fingers into his wife's blood and streaked it down his face. He got up and retrieved his bow and quiver before following the horse tracks that led away from the village.

"Sam!" Dean called to him as he gripped his arm tightly. "Sammy, you need to come back now."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath as he stiffened and blinked rapidly trying to focus on Dean. He could hear him talking to him, but it sounded far away at first. It took him a few minutes to come completely back and he licked his lips before accepting a bottle of water from Dean and sipping on it.

"You okay?" Dean asked checking him out and prying open his hand to remove the arrowhead. He slipped it back into the pouch with the other one and dropped them on the lounge chair. Dean saw blood in Sam's palm where the sharp edges of the stone had cut into it when he gripped it so tightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. That's nothing, just a scratch," Sam told him wiping his palm on his jeans and looking at his hand. There were shallow cuts on it, but they weren't deep.

"What did you see?"

"It was a Native American village and I saw a warrior go hunting with the arrows he made with this arrowhead. He killed a deer and headed back to the village to find everyone had been slaughtered and the place was on fire. His wife and child were killed. I think he headed out seeking revenge on whoever did it. That's when I came back," Sam told him.

"Wow, that was messed up. I'm going to get you some gauze for your hand, relax for a minute," Dean replied. He got up and disappeared into the house. He came back out a few minutes later with a wet paper towel, antibiotic cream, and gauze. "Let me see your hand," Dean instructed.

Sam knew better than to fight it and held out his hand so Dean could doctor it. He winced slightly as Dean wiped his palm so he could check the cuts. Blood beaded across Sam's palm, but had almost stopped. Dean smeared the cream over the cuts and wrapped his hand with gauze several times before tying it.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked looking into Sam's eyes to see they were clear but had a haunted look.

"I'm fine Dean, really," Sam insisted, knowing how much of a mother hen he could be. "What else did you bring?"

"You sure about that? Maybe you should wait awhile."

"No, I want to try. It's okay Dean. I need to get a handle on this, so I'm not surprised by it like before. I need to know I can get myself out of these visions."

"Alright," Dean huffed not liking it, but knew Sam was right and understood his desire to want to be able to control it. "This was Dad's flask. He kept holy water in it. I had forgotten I had it in the trunk."

Sam took the silver flask, feeling the coldness of it as he ran a finger over the engravings and stopped when he found their father's initials on one side. He vaguely remembered seeing his Dad with the flask several times growing up. His fingers played over the metal that was warming to his touch and closed his eyes.

Mist clouded his mind and after a few minutes started to clear and he saw his father sitting at a table that had weapons on it. He had a gallon of water sitting in front of him and was reciting the ritual to make it holy water. He dropped rosery into the jug and completed the last of it. John took the flask and a funnel so he could fill it with the holy water.

Sam looked at his father and tried to figure out what time period this was. John looked young and didn't have that hard edge about him yet. He didn't look the seasoned hunter that he remembered. He watched as John answered his cell, listened, and spoke a few words before quickly getting up to pack the weapons into a bag. John grabbed his duffle and headed out the door of a motel room.

Everything faded away and Sam stood still, waiting to see if anything else was going to happen. A warehouse appeared out of the mist and he stepped through a door to find John inside with a man tied to a chair in a devil's trap. He stepped close enough so he could hear.

"What does he want?" John growled at the man as he threw holy water in his face.

The man was possessed by a demon and hissed in pain as his skin burned from the water. He jerked on the ropes that held him and tried to get loose.

"I'm not telling you anything," the demon yelled at him.

"Are you so sure of that?" John asked. He turned to his weapon's bag and pulled out a box of salt. He poured salt into the holy water and grabbed the man's head, pulling it back to force his mouth open. He poured the saltwater down his throat making him choke and gag as bloody foam leaked out of his mouth. The demon gurgled and spit and coughed as he laughed at John.

"Why does Yellow Eyes want my son?" John stated sternly and with no remorse that he was torturing the demon.

Sam pulled back from the vision, not wanting to see any more of what his father did. He was torturing the demon to get information about him. He laid the flask back down and let his body tremble as he dropped his head. He felt his brother's hand on his arm and squeeze it to let him know he was there.

"You back bro?" Dean asked softly.

"Yeah, I think I've seen enough for now," he huffed rolling his shoulders and looking up at him.

"You did it without my help. You got yourself out of the vision."

"Yeah, I did," Sam nodded and smiled at him for a moment. He rubbed his temple for a moment, feeling a slight headache starting. "I think I can see now how to pull myself back from the vision. Doing this helped a lot."

"You need something for a headache?" Dean asked sensing his discomfort. "C'mon, let's go find a snack, you need to eat, and you can take some Tylenol." He stood and held out his hand to help Sam up. "You wanna tell me what you saw about Dad?"

"I'll tell you, but give me a few minutes, okay?" Sam saw the hand in front of his face and reached for it to allow Dean to pull him up. He let Dean throw an arm around his shoulders as they made their way into the kitchen. He watched Dean look in the fridge trying to decide on a snack. He pulled deli meat and cheese out and got bread from the bread box.

"You're not going to cut the crust off my sandwich, are you?" Sam teased. "You're in 'mother hen mode'.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."