A/N:

Let's hop on the merry go round …

Chapter 29 ~ Harvelle's Roadhouse

Dean had been on the road for three hours, listening to his favorite mixed tape for about the fourth time, when he pulled up in front of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

It felt good to be alone. Like, really alone. – For once.

Dean hadn't been aware how much he had needed a little time-out from the bunker and Sam and everything about the tablets and demons.

Though – despite his longing to have some lone-time – he felt the pull which kept dragging his thoughts back towards the bunker – and Sam.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Before Sam knew it, his vision flickered, shifted and …

… he finds himself in front of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

There are dozens of cars parked right in front, and around the Roadhouse. What actually catches his attention is a black sleek 67' Chevrolet Impala.

Covered in a fine layer of dust.

His vision tilts and the next moment he is inside the building, which is crowded with flannels (hunters). The scent of moto-roil, metal, smoke and alcohol lingers heavy in the air.

Sam's weirded out by what he sees.

Usually he's involved in those Visions, and now – all of a sudden – he somehow seems dislocated from his body, free to think and assess his surroundings.

It feels like he can move through his own vision. And he tries. And it actually works.

Because he's moving through the crowd as if he's made of air or something.

But as soon as he realizes what he can do, he's catapulted forward ( at least it feels that way). He still stands in the same place, but everything is different.

He can hear the hunters talk.

And then he spots Dean. Sitting at the bar, talking to a blonde woman – probably in her forties. She's laughing.

Dean wears this charming smirk, of which he's certain, he can melt any heart with a snap of his fingers.

Then he looks over at a girl – she's behind the bar too.

Again, everything seems to fast-forward and gets to a sudden halt.

And then there's fire.

And screams.

And there is so much smoke and confusion.

It smells like barbeque and then like burnt barbeque mingled with sulfur.

When Sam starts to feel the heat, and flames licking at his skin, the picture before him starts to flicker and seize and …

… he was back on the bed, gasping for air, fighting to take a deep breath.

He ripped his eyes open and looked around frantically, searching the room.

Sam tried to gather his thoughts for a moment, to try and get everything back into place.

Hadn't Bobby recently been with him?

It didn't matter.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse.", he murmured to himself, as he squeezed his eyes shut once more to clear his blurry sight. "Dean …"

Thoughts were roaring through his foggy mind. Making him feel insecure, about his current situation and how and why he was here and not in that dark place. How it was possible to not be marked up anymore, and about him having Visions despite that he thought he was caught in an endless hallucination.

He knew the power of mind. He knew that – if in bad (like real bad) situations – people may tend to hide away in their head, making up safe places to go and hide.

And maybe, this wasn't a hallucination. Maybe this was his safe place, to hide away from the reality out there and about what was Asmodeus doing to him – with him at the moment.

Sam wasn't stupid.

He also knew, that he had to take into consideration, that this here – right now – was real, was truly happening. And if this was really happening, and his Vision had showed him, that something bad was about to happen – to Dean (and the hunters of course), he needed to prevent it from happening.

Sam swung out of the bed on unsteady legs. Determined to get a hold of someone – anyone. He made his way out of the room, through the corridor, and – what he hoped was the right direction – towards one of the main-rooms he knew at least one of the hunters were high likely occupying.

"Bobby!", Sam yelled, hearing his own voice echo through the corridor and his head. Specially in his head, where it seemed to bounce of the insides of his skull and double itself in intensity and volume.

He hissed, one hand on his head, the other one against the wall, using it to ground himself and as leverage in case the dizziness would increase.

Sam staggered, stumbled and caught himself.

Fighting the nausea and stabbing pain behind his eyes.

"Bobby!", he cried out desperately.

If this was happening – and was no hallucination and/or an imaginative reality of his – then Dean (and the other hunters) were in serious trouble and about to get toasted.

Sam couldn't let that happen. – Not again. – He nearly failed his partner back at the warehouse – he would have nearly gotten him killed, because he had allowed Dean to talk him into being part of a reckless plan to take Dagon down.

But at what price? Dean's been poisoned – it's been a close call. Too close.

"Bobby!"

He reached the steps leading into the map's room.

"Bobby!", he hollered at the top of his lungs.

Damn it, someone had to hear him. They couldn't all be gone now, could they? – Except for … this was a hallucination and all of it was happening in his head.

He climbed the stairs, flat palm against the cold stone-wall to his right, panting, hurting.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Dean kept sitting in the Impala for quite some time, not ready to socialize with anyone just yet.

He eventually decided to get his move on, and got out of the car. Checking on his gun in the holster and the knife on his back.

When he slammed the door shut, it happened, that he felt a pull in his chest. A faint feel of discomfort and a sting behind his eyeballs.

Den winced, reached for his forehead and temple and rubbed along his scalp, his hand coming down on his car's hood.

A gasp fell from his lips, when sharp white pain lanced through his skull, nearly taking him down.

His vision flickered and …

… he's standing in front of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

Everything flickers and shifts and then he's inside, sees himself sitting at the bar, talking to Ellen.

Everything tilts, he feels like he's getting turned upside down and then he's watching himself burn and scream and writhe in agony, before everything turns blank.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam stumbled and caught himself once again, the world around him spinning.

"Sam?!", a gravely rough voice echoed through his head. – One he had hoped he wouldn't hear so fast again.

He blinked, swallowed and looked up.

A limping shape narrowed hastily. "Sam?"

Sam frowned, when his sight focused enough to make out the person coming closer. His eyes widened in terror.

"No …", he breathed, staggering backwards, "Not you …"

John stopped in his tracks, putting his weight on the cane and raising the other hand.

"Wait.", John said. "It's fine. – Everything's okay. Okay?" He made another step towards Sam.

Sam made a step backwards, feeling the edge of the first stair against his heel. "I knew it …"

"Sam?!" Bobby came up behind John, brushing past him.

"Bobby?" Sam stared at him in confusion. Then at John. And back at Bobby.

It may didn't matter right now. He reminded himself, that – if (as he saw it, he knew the chances were little to none) this was real – Dean was in immediate danger. And as long as there was this tiny chance, that his partner's life was at stake, he'd do whatever it take to not let it happen.

Sam rose his hand, showing his flat palm, to tell them to stop and not come any closer.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse.", Sam said, "Dean's there. – Isn't he?"

Bobby looked at him in bewilderment, until something snapped into place in his head, and his expression changed to one of realization.

"Probably. – He should be by now. Why?" It was Bobby's turn to ask.

"'cause … demons know there's … they're there. And – How far is it?"

"Three hours – at least.", John answered, tension creeping into him. visibly

Sam cursed to himself, wheels set into motion in his mind on how to –

"We need to get in contact with Ellen.", Bobby cut through Sam's thoughts, "Now."
"We can't. – Hunter-radio's down until the gathering's over.", John stated bitterly. "We won't get anyone on the line." He shifted. "How'd you know, Sam? What makes you think my son's in danger?"

Sam's head wiped towards the Winchester, raged breaths pushing out of him.

"We don't have time." Sam told Bobby. "It could be happenin' right now."

Bobby looked back over his shoulder, addressing John.

"We better try. – Or they're all gonna die." And with that, he took off, bypassing John, giving his shoulder a pad. "Watch after my son.", Bobby told him, and headed back from where he came from earlier.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Dean took deep and even inhales trough his nose and exhales through his mouth. Trying to will his weak knees to regain their strength.

"Fuck.", he cursed. "What the hell …"

A furious ache lingered behind his eyes.

Dean cast his look at the Roadhouse. Then took in his surroundings with a scrutinizing glare.

He couldn't spot anything out of the ordinaire. Nothing at all … and though …

The hot hair he felt breathing in in his WHATEVER(vision), still burned in his lungs. He had the taste of his own burnt flesh on his tongue. The smell of sulfur in his nose. Echoes of screams in his ears.

If – what he's seen – was some kind of forewarning (what he figured it had to be), he needed to get the building cleared and all those people out of there and as far away as possible.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam swayed, took a step forward, away from the stair's edge.

"I need to go there …", he murmured to himself, looking at no one and nothing in particular, "I … need to go there."

"Boy.", John spoke up, rising his hand in a way that signaled that Sam should calm down. That everything was okay. "You can't go anywhere right now. Not in your condition."

He cast a brief, helpless, longing look over his shoulder towards where Bobby had gone to. Then looked back at Sam.

Sam leaned against the wall with his back, not really aware of John, nor that he was talking to him. His mind was set on Dean. On what he had seen. On what would happen. And if they – he – wouldn't be able to warn them, then … Then Dean would die, burn. Suffer.

Sam pushed away from the wall, dry lips moving, forming barely intelligible words.

"Look. – We'll get a hold of them. Dean's not stupid. He'll know if something's wrong." John took a step towards Sam.

"No. – He won't. He can't. – I saw it. It always happens the way I see it.", Sam mumbled.

"Sam. – Son. – Look. Why don't you sit down?" John spoke softly. "Dean will know, okay? He's an angel. – He'll sense it."

"He won't." When Sam looked back up, blackness bleed into his eyes, and with it white gleaming tendrils.

John froze mid-step. "Calm down.", he couldn't possibly hide the tension in his words.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, reaching for his temple. He could feel the pull in his chest again and the signs for another approaching Vision.

"Sam?" Lesser tension and more worry in his voice this time around when he spoke.

… Flickers, the shift in the atmosphere, change of scene …

Everything is dark, except for the burning building in front of him.

He can smell sulfur, death. And something else … He can FEEL something else …

Something he can't quite identify, but thinks he should acknowledge. It's a weird kind of tickle in the back of his mind. Like the muffled ringing of a phone.

And then he sees. Three men and one woman, dressed like hunters – but they are not.

They don't have faces – at least not human ones. They look like balloon-heads with giant mouths and sharp pointed teeth, taking in their entire faces when they open them.

Sam stares … he can't believe what he is seeing.

Leviathans going after hunters had never happened before. – They just didn't care. Hunters were not a threat to them – only occasional food.

Burning down a hunter's lair? Killing them big-style? Nope. That is a first.

No one has to tell Sam, that this has to be about the tablets – or at least – the Purgatory tablet.

It aren't demons, who burn the Roadhouse. – Even if the sulfur tells him otherwise.

Then there's this weird feeling again. The tickle, the muffled ringing, that urges him to pick up on something.

"Dean!", he yells, not sure if it would do anything at all. "Run!" Sam keeps yelling towards the weird ringing. He doesn't even know why he does it. But he has the urge to do so, and he goes with it.

The more and the louder he yells, the clearer the ringing becomes and, when it feels like it's so close to touch …

… Flickers, everything goes blank, change of scene …

… and Sam was back at the bunker, on the floor, sprawled across the stairs, the edges digging into his ribs.

"Leviathans.", he rasped. "No demons. – Leviathans. They need to run. They …", Sam murmured and winced.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Dean slid onto a barstool and leaned over the counter towards Ellen. She leaned in too, so that their heads were close.

"Something's wrong. – We need to get outta here.", he whispered into her ear.

Ellen gave him a curious look. "What?", she asked out loud.

Dean backed away, so to look her in the face. "We need to leave. Now. All of us. Something's off. Someone knows about our gathering tonight."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What makes you so sure 'bout that, boy?" There were barely times she had seen Dean, nor his father, as agitated as he was right now.

The faint pull in Dean's chest was returning. White flickers tore through Dean's sight, blinding him, and …

… he's standing in front of the burning Roadhouse.

Four people dressed like hunters stand there and watch the fire. Their faces are not human ones.

"RUN", echoes through his ears and mind. "Run!" And if he wouldn't know it better, he'd say Sam was yelling at him.

Leviathans. Dean recognizes.

Their sizes - The clothes they are wearing, their haircuts. He memorizes it all.

"Dean! Run!", louder this time. "They're coming!"

"Sam?", he asks confused – not sure if he's saying it out loud.

And before he can make out the greater picture …

… Dean was back in the Roadhouse, hunched over the counter, Ellen's hand on his back, as she was asking him "What's wrongs" and "What's going ons".

"Mom!", a blonde girl in her twenties, hollered towards them, waving her hand at her to draw her attention.

The girl - Jo wiggled through the crowd and aimed straight for the counter towards her mother. "Mom!", she hollered.

"What is it?", she asked, straightening back up and stemming a hand into her side.

"The bunker's trying to reach us via hunter radio. – They say it's urgent.", Jo panted as soon as she reached the counter, bumping into Dean's side. "Lucky them, I've been around to hear their call."

"They're breakin' radio silence …" Ellen cast Dean a worried look, who at least managed to squint at her, a pained expression on his face.

"No one breaks radio silence if it's not life-threatening.", Jo stated nervously. "What do we do? Maybe they need help? Do we break radio silence?"

Ellen looked at Dean. Questioning.

Dean looked back at her. Answering.

"You go and check out what they want.", she told her, "And tell us as soon as you know what this is about."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed.

"Dean?", Ellen tilted his head up, checking his pupils as it seemed. A hunter's habit. "You hit your head or somethin'?"

He shook his head. Sobered up fast and squinted at her. "Nah. 'm fine. Just a headache."

He tried to look as casual as possible, when he took a visual sweep through the crowd. He spotted two of the hunters he's seen in his … WHATEVER (because Dean was pretty sure (he actually was not) that this had not been some weird kind of Vision.)

Dean didn't reach for his Taurus, nor the knife. – Every hunter in the room – even the fake-hunters – would probably pick up on it, and if there was any advantage at all for them, he had to avoid just that at any cost.

Ellen picked up on the younger Winchester's supposed ordinary sweep he made.

She leaned in again. "Spill. What's goin' on?", she whispered, "And don't tell me shit, boy. – I know you."

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

John hurried – as fast as he possibly be with that gimp-leg of his – into the transmitting-room. "Code Black!", he hollered as soon as he had swung himself through the threshold into the room. "Sam said it's Leviathans!", he repeated, in case they hadn't heard, since he wasn't sure if he'd understood himself.

[Bunker calling in: emergency. Code Black. You hear me? Code Black. Over.] Charlie adjusted the microphone on her self-made headset. [Bunker's calling code Black. Over].

White noise.

Charlie, Bobby and John shared looks.

More white noise.

[Bunker calling in: emergency. Code Black. Over.] Charlie tried again. She looked up at Bobby. "They won't answer. – Radio silence isn't called radio silence because of nothing."

"We try. – They need to know what's going on.", John answered – urgency in his voice. "Dean needs to know."

[Bunker calling in: emergency. Code Black. Over.]

Click. [I'm here. Over.] finally someone answered. [What's the emergency. Over.]

[Haul asses, bitches! Code BLACK! Over.] Charlie hurries to get the words out all at once.

There's white noise. Then a click. Silence. [Code Black? Over.]

John lunged for Charlies headset, ripped it from her head and held the left speaker and the microphone to his lips.

[Cover. Code Black. John Winchester. Get the fuck out of there, Jo. They're gonna fry your asses crispy. Over.] John hollers into the headset.

[Copy that. Code Black.], Jo answered hurriedly.

The [Over] didn't come though.

Instead, a loud crash, a surprised yell, and then nothing but white noise.

"Jo?!", John tried to keep his temper down. "Jo! Damn it!"

"Balls.", Bobby grumbled under his breath.

"Shit.", Charlie let herself fall back against the lean of her chair and drew her fingers through her hair with a shocked sigh.

John would have loved to slam the damn headset on the ground, but he didn't. Instead, he threw it on the table with the equipment and wiped over his face.

"We're goin'.", Bobby stated. "If someone makes it outta there, we're gonna find'em."

"I'm coming with.", Charlie jumped from her seat.

"No.", it came out harsher as Bobby wanted to sound. "You stay. – I'll take Cas, Jesse and Cesar with." He looked at John. "Someone has to have an eye on Sam.", he pointed out.

"No need to lose both of our boys.", he addressed John with a pitiful look.

Bobby took a shuddering breath. "I trust you with him."

"But …", John was about to protest.

"We'll take care of him.", Charlie bumped her fist in Bobby's bicep. "You guys go and bring them all back."

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Dean is running …

THEY are running …

Through the darkness of the night, barely enlightened by the moon's shine.

Staggering, stumbling, getting back on their feet, catching themselves and they run. Run as if the devil itself is after them. No looking back. No hesitation.

Cold wind cuts sharp against sweaty skin.

His lungs burn, his muscles ache. But he keeps running – as fast as he can. Hand wrapped tight around Jo's wrist, dragging her with.

There are screams, yells, cries.

Hunters are falling, going down.

Sam's there. He sees it all. It feels as if he's himself, and though he's Dean. Seeing through his eyes. Hearing with his ears.

Leviathans wearing hunter's faces, snatching one after another from the playboard. They are faster. Nimbler. They are everything and nothing.

Sam reaches out to the faint ringing that keeps playing in the back of his mind – he tries. If there's a way – any way - Dean has to know. They are not supposed to take the path they are on right now . They need to seek shelter in the woods.

Sam's seen it, that's why he knows.

It's hard to hold onto, but he tries. There's a reason why they made it out of Harvelle's Roadhouse. There's a reason why Dean made it out of there and is still alive despite his Vision.

Sam thinks, maybe Dean's heard him when he yelled towards the ringing. He thinks, maybe – by any chance – he's able to guide him. Let him see what he's seen. Maybe it's only wishful thinking though, but he imagines that the ringing is Dean, so he latches onto it.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~