The Nightmare August 2005 Part 1

Timeline: This story takes place in the summer of 2005 before Dad drops off the map.

-/-/-

The motel was dark and quiet as Dean guided the Impala into its parking spot in front of their motel room. Cutting the engine, he glanced up into the closed, black window of this week's room. He opened the car door and got out, catching a whiff of lingering perfume that brought reminders of his night and a soft satisfied smile to his face.

The sound of a distant truck engine approaching caught his attention and Dean's smile vanished, his guard up immediately. He turned his head to the sound and saw a sooped up pickup truck barreling down the two-lane road toward him. The headlights were bright, but Dean could see a chrome grill on the front and a huge American flag waving from the tailgate.

Ah…Texas.

Dean watched as the truck swerved into the motel parking lot and stopped abruptly, causing screams of laughter and curses to come from the cab. Suddenly a figure stood up from the bed of the truck and Dean instantly recognized his youngest brother's blonde head in the moonlight.

"Ha!" Adam yelled happily to the driver in the cab, throwing down what looked like a beer can and jumping from the bed into the parking lot, "Fuck you Drew!" he laughed, flipping his friend the middle finger.

Raucous laughter and cursed replies were returned and Dean smiled.

He watched as his brother leaned into the truck bed again and pulled out a case of beer, tucking it under his arm and walking back up to the passenger side of the truck.

"You owe me 20 bucks man!" he laughed, pointing at the driver.

Middle fingers from both the passenger and the driver were held out the window before the truck peeled out of the parking lot, whoops of happy laughter echoing off the motel building.

"Where've you been?" Dean asked leaning back against the Impala as his little brother sauntered over to him, clearly a little more than tipsy.

"I'm a teenager in Texas, where'd ya think I've been?" he joked, his words slurring slightly.

"Kegger in the woods?"

"Kegger in the wooooods!" Adam hollered back, laughing.

He reached into the case of beer tucked under his arm and pulled one out, handing it out to his brother, "Here catch up."

Dean hesitated a moment. He really shouldn't be encouraging his underage brother to drink. He should reiterate Dad's orders about staying safe and being careful. He should tell his brother that being drunk was more dangerous for him then any of his teenage friends.

But…nah. Dean's own buzz from the bar had long since worn off. And the kid deserved to have some damn fun sometimes.

"Yeah," Dean said, accepting the beer and cracking it open.

"Fuck yeah," Adam said, reaching into the box and pulling out another beer, cracking it open for himself.

The beer was warm, so much so that Dean wondered if it had ever been cold, but it didn't matter. Beer was beer.

Adam set the almost empty case of beer on the pavement next to the car, nearly toppling over when he did, making Dean chuckle. Then sitting down on the curb of the sidewalk outside the motel room, he took a long slow sip.

"Didn't think you'd be back tonight," Adam mused, looking up at his brother still leaning against the car, "You strike out?" he teased.

Dean was quiet for a moment, letting a little knowing smile appear, "No."

"Oh you dirty dog!" Adam exclaimed, wide-eyed at his brother, "Just wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am? Nice!"

Dean stifled a chuckled and took a drink of the warm beer. He actually would have stayed the night with her if he'd been invited. Despite what he'd let his brothers think, he actually didn't like the "use 'em and lose 'em" aspect of one night stands. He liked spending time talking to a girl, getting to know her, seeing her personality. He liked to imagine what life might be like with her, what every day with this girl might look like. It was a dream he knew, but still, one he liked to indulge in when he was allowed. Tonight's girl wasn't in the mood for dreams though. She'd given all the signals of 'thank you, now go' so he'd packed up and hit the bricks. Still a fun night though. No complaints.

"Man I gotta get laid," Adam complained, shaking his head, "Woah…" he said, his eyes losing focus and crossing slightly, "No shaking the head.

Dean laughed at his brother, knowing the exact spinning feeling that came with one keg stand too many.

They were quiet for a minute, each looking at the moon and sipping their drinks.

"So 5 am run?" Dean teased.

"Ha." Adam deadpanned, "No."

"Ah…but you know…Dad's orders…" Dean pressed, curious to see how much he could work up his intoxicated little brother.

"Shut up, dude. It's 2 am. We'd be better off to run 5 miles right now,"

"Yeah right," Dean scoffed laughing, "I'd love to see you try to run right now."

"I'm fine. I could totally run," Adam said, rolling his eyes.

"You could not."

"I could too!" Adam said indignant, "I'm totally fine. Totally."

"Oh yeah… totally," Dean said sarcastically, enjoying badgering his brother.

"I am," Adam said standing up, wobbling a little as he did.

"Oh… yeah… sure…" Dean laughed, rolling his eyes.

"You wanna bet?" Adam said, starting to get legitimately mad.

"Do you wanna bet?" Dean repeated, mocking.

"Yeah man, come on!" Adam shouted, getting heated. "I'll bet 10 bucks that I can run from here to that stop sign," he said pointing down the street.

Dean just laughed.

"Dude! Come on!" Adam said, putting his beer on the pavement.

"No way, kid. Just give me your money…" Dean laughed again, enjoying his little brother's irritation.

"Fuck you dude!" Adam said, "Fine! I bet I beat you to the stop sign."

Dean stopped laughing. "Race huh?" he questioned, still reveling in teasing Adam, but putting on a serious face for his brother's behalf.

"Yeah. I will smoke your ass!" Adam boasted.

"You will huh?" Dean said speculating.

"Bring it Old Man!" Adam yelled, shoving his brother before taking off running.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Five minutes later they were in the motel room, wiping blood off Adam's busted chin and searching for bandages for his skinned knees.

"You look like a toddler," Dean teased half-heartedly, watching his brother dab a damp washcloth at the torn and bloodied skin of his knee.

"Shut up," Adam grumbled, picking the last bits of gravel out of his kneecap with a grimace.

He did look like what Dean imagined a toddler Adam would have looked like: pouting face scratched up palms and fresh Band-Aids across both knees.

Dean had laughed his ass off when Adam had tripped over both his feet and face planted into the pavement moments after taking off in a race Dean had no intention of running. He'd laughed all the way over to help his brother up and only quit once he saw the blood pouring from his little brother's chin.

"Hell of a buzzkill, huh?" he said, handing Adam another clean damp cloth for his face. They'd gotten the bleeding to stop and while Dean didn't think Adam would need stitches, the kid's face was gonna look rough tomorrow.

"Yeah…" Adam mumbled, gently wiping around the sensitive injury on his chin, hoping it wouldn't start bleeding again.

"Good thing your face caught your fall…" Dean teased gently.

"Ha. Ha." Adam deadpanned.

Dean smiled at his brother, "Here," he said holding out a palm of two pain pills, "It'll help with the hangover too,"

Adam nodded slowly and took the pills, throwing them back into his mouth and grabbing a swig of water from a cup Dean had already placed on the table between their beds.

"Well, this was fun…" Adam said sarcastically, "I'm gonna pass out now."

"Ok, got the alarm set for 5," Dean teased.

Adam just rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed, settling on his side and immediately going to sleep.

Dean grabbed the bloodied clothes and band-aid wrappers, cleaning up the mess they'd made before he took of his shoes and fell into bed as well.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

He was on a boat. Like a big, old-timey boat on the ocean. Everything was dark. He could feel the storm swirling around him. The waves were high and rough, crashing into the boat, sending him sliding around the deck, making him green with seasickness. A wave crashed over him, slamming him back against the hard mast. Over and over he felt his shoulder hit the unforgiving wood behind him and he couldn't push himself away, couldn't find his footing on the slippery boards as his stomach rolled in time with the unending surf.

"Hey…. hey…wake up…"

The voice was near, but Adam couldn't quite pull himself from the darkness of the rolling seas.

"Come on…." the voice complained irritably and Adam woke enough to feel the dream start to slip, replaced by the growing awareness of the dank motel room around him.

"Ok... ok..." he grumbled, fully realizing now that the thing slamming him to the boat mast in his dream was really Dean shaking the crap out of him, "Stop shaking me…."

The shaking stopped suddenly and Adam cracked one eye open to see his brother standing above him, an expectant look on his face.

"We aren't running are we?" Adam questioned weakly, feeling his stomach roll and his head throb, his dream dissolving into a fierce hangover.

"No. Dad called. Got case," Dean answered, backing off now that he was satisfied his brother was actually awake.

"Really?" Adam asked, fully opening both eyes and blinking hard to push away his headache.

"Yeah in Vermont," Dean replied, grabbing the knife he kept stashed under his pillow, starting to pack his things.

"Vermont?" Adam asked in surprise, "That's like…16 hours away? Ugh."

"Yeah…more like 30…" Dean replied not looking at his brother as he gathered his weapons from the room.

"Fuck… that's a long drive…" Adam moaned, rubbing his face, still trying to shake off the bad dream and lingering hangover.

"Yeah…" Dean agreed flatly, "Go throw up so we can get going."

Adam sat up and sneered at his brother, "I'm fine… I don't need…"

He stopped abruptly, the rolling waves from his dream making an unexpected and intense reappearance in his stomach.

"I…" he mumbled, feeling himself break out into a cold sweat. He took a deep breath trying to control his body, determined not to let his brother be right.

"Yeah?" Dean said smugly, turning to look at him.

"Fu…" Adam couldn't finish the whole swear before he launched himself up and off the bed, just in time to make it to the motel bathroom toilet.

"Yeah." Dean gloated from behind him. "Finish up in there and shower and we'll get you some breakfast…maybe a nice greasy pork sandwich… served up a dirty ashtray…."

"DEAN!" Adam bellowed, leaning further into the toilet feeling his stomach churn.

He heard Dean's light chuckle behind him and moved to kick the door closed.

"Hey and hurry up will you?" Dean shouted through the door.

"Ugh…" Adam groaned.

-/-/-/-/-

They were almost in Oklahoma before Adam's hangover finally abated and he felt like himself. He didn't love feeling like crap the next morning, but damn last night was fun. And he was especially glad he'd gone out and partied with the guys since he and Dean had been forced to leave town this morning.

Adam sometimes thought about what he left behind when they did this kinda thing, just pulled up stakes and disappeared. What did the people they left behind think? What was Drew gonna do when he called Adam's cell today and got the disconnected tone? What would he and the guys think when they found out that Adam wasn't at the motel? That Adam and Dean just vanished? Part of Adam felt guilty about that. Over the years he'd learned to make friends pretty easily, able now to pick out the kids who'd quickly accept him and he felt a little shitty about vanishing into thin air. Not like he could do anything about it though. Despite his protests, Dad and Dean both agreed that he wasn't allowed to contact any of his old friends after they left a town, even just to let them know he was alive and ok. Adam never saw what the big deal was, but Dean insisted it would only cause problems. Adam didn't like it, but he'd given up fighting about it.

"So what's the case anyway?" Adam asked, shaking off his depressing thoughts and turning down the volume on the AC/DC tape Dean had blaring in the car.

"Rutland, Vermont. Seventeen people declared insane in the past three weeks," Dean explained.

"Hmm…yeah that's weird," Adam agreed.

Dean pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open and scrolling to a message, "Here," he said handing it out to Adam.

"43.610630 / -72.972687/ 17 vics/ insanity?/ leave now." Adam read aloud. "Wow. So much info, thanks Dad," he said sarcastically, flipping the phone closed and handing it back to his brother.

"Hmm..."Adam hummed thoughtfully, "What could make people go insane?" he asked, mentally flipping the pages of the hunting notebooks he'd created over the years.

"I mean there's a few things…" Dean said keeping his eyes on the road, "Dad'll know more."

"Djinn right?" Adam asked, his eyes still closed picturing his notes, "They mess with people's minds,"

"Yeah…" Dean agreed, "How do you kill 'em?" he quizzed.

"Silver knife. Lamb's blood." Adam answered without hesitation; barely hiding his pride in what he knew was the correct answer. He'd spent the last year forcing himself to memorize as many monster facts as he possibly could determined to show Dad how serious he was about hunting. Dean was helping him, prepping him with unexpected quizzes just like Dad did when he was around.

"Ok, but it could just be something in the water there you know?" Adam continued, thinking out loud as he watched the flat farmland speed by in a tan blur, "I mean people in Rome went insane cause of the lead they lined their water pipes with. It made people hallucinate and everything…"

Dean glanced away from the road to give Adam a surprised and questioning stare.

"What? I saw it on History Channel," Adam replied.

"Yeah ok..." Dean shrugged, brushing off his brother, "Well whatever it is, Dad wants backup, so that's saying something,"

Adam nodded but didn't reply. Dad asking them to join up on a case with him was something. The man worked solo more often then not these days, leaving Dean to keep track of Adam or occasionally work a case with their hunter friend Caleb. Dean hadn't complained or really even mentioned it, but Adam suspected that being left out of hunts really irked him. Dean had developed a carefully balanced relationship with their father, something Adam had watched curiously over the years trying to understand and emulate.

At first, Adam thought that it was just because Dean was the oldest, that maybe that was why Dad treated Dean so different from him and Sam. If Dad was the General in the Winchester Army, Dean was second in command, and Sam and Adam were enlisted grunts, there to do the work and try not to get in the way.

But after a few years, really more after Sam left; Adam saw the relationship strain and realized what he witnessed wasn't that Dad trusted Dean more, or that Dean was more responsible because he was older. Dean was a contortionist, bending himself to fit whatever Dad needed from him at any given moment. Adam watched Dean take care of their father making sure the man ate actual food instead of just whiskey and black coffee. He watched his brother pick out details in hunts or on research, coming up with new and inventive ways to attack the enemy, pitch-perfect plans that made Adam fume with jealousy when Dad gave Dean a nod of praise. He went out to bars and chased girls, coming back late reeking of perfume and cigarettes, making Adam gag but earning a light-hearted shake of the head from their father, something that just said "Ah…to be young."

Dean never stopped trying to be whatever Dad wanted him to be.

Adam understood that feeling. The need to be praised, to be wanted. Hell, he'd been trying all his life to earn Dad's approval too; he just wasn't as good at it as Dean. And even though he didn't want to feel that way, even though he realized it was dumb and dangerous and probably impossible, he still tried. Just like Dean.

He wished he could be more like Sam. Sam knew that he'd never earn Dad's approval. He'd told Adam that many times before he left. Sam just knew that nothing he could ever do was gonna live up to what Dad wanted, so he gave up. Well gave up wasn't the right word, more like he threw it away. Decided he didn't want it. He didn't need it.

Adam couldn't understand that. He didn't believe it actually. Deep down, way deep down, so far down Sam would never ever admit it; he wanted Dad's praise too. Why else did he choose Stanford? He could have gone to any college…why push so hard to make Ivy League? Sam wanted to make Dad proud just like they did.

"You think he's actually gonna let us help?" Adam asked curiously, speculating on Dean's read of the situation.

"He called didn't he?" Dean replied mockingly.

"Yeah I know," Adam shot back, "He's just been acting weird lately you know? Just like…mad all the time…"

"You're joking, right? Dad?" Dean teased, "The King of Cool? The Sultan of Stable? Mr. Rogers himself?"

Adam rolled his eyes at his brother.

"It's just Dad man," Dean said shaking his head, eyes focused on the road "He gets wound up about these hunts. He just really cares you know?"

"Yeah," Adam said nodding in agreement, "I know."

-/-/-