Before he could lose his nerve, Sam took a deep breath and described his nightmare to Jonathan. He shared every excruciating and painful detail. He was shocked at the level of his own self-recrimination considering that the dream was about an event that had never actually taken place. He told of his fear and indecision, and how it grieved him to watch his brother be consumed in the fire. And he told Jonathan, what he never thought he would share with anyone in his life – how he was not afraid of being killed by the fire, he was afraid of being changed by it.
"I know…I know I can't leave Dean to die the way I've seen in my nightmares," Sam stated, "but there is something about the fire I can't explain…like it's been waiting for me." Sam took a deep breath to control his breathing. Even talking about his fear was freaking him out. Sam shook his head frustrated by being unable to express himself clearly.
Jonathan pushed Sam to talk about other dreams he had had, and Sam was stunned to realize just how long the nightmares had plagued him. The ones from his childhood were vague and hard to remember, but the ones about Jess were fresh in his mind. Sam was embarrassed and ashamed to admit to Jonathan that he'd had dreams of Jessica's death before it had happened, but did not act on them. Jonathan did not react with accusation or disgust the way Sam had anticipated. Instead he pushed Sam to acknowledge what he had learned from the experience. He referred again, as he had before, to the pattern on the floor.
"If we travel the wheel correctly, each step on the journey brings us closer to true understanding. We all make decisions in this life, Sam Winchester. Each choice leads to a new path. It is what we do on the path with what we have learned from our choices that propels us forward." He gave Sam a searching look.
It took Sam a few moments to gather his thoughts. "So you're asking what I've learned from Jess' death?" Jonathan did not respond, instead he waited for Sam to continue. Sam sighed heavily. "…aside from the fact that it was my fault?" he mumbled to himself. Sam distractedly ran his fingers through his hair. "I've learned that these dreams I have warn of the future. What I don't know is if that gives me the power to change what I've seen."
Jonathan nodded as he listened. "I believe that dreams like yours only warn of the most likely outcome…not all of the outcomes."
"Then how can I change it?" Sam cried in anguish. "Every time I fall asleep I see Dean die! I can't let that happen!"
"I believe you have the power to change what it is you have seen, Sam." Jonathan paused thoughtfully. "Do you?"
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't know."
"I did not ask you what you know…I asked what you believe."
Sam didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the smoke-house. Jonathan didn't seem to mind these pauses in conversation; in fact, Sam felt that he encouraged them. With nothing else to occupy his thoughts Sam had no choice but to think about what Jonathan asked.
Do I have the power to change what I've seen? I know I have some power, but don't know what it's for. In my nightmares, there's nothing that keeps me away from Dean…only my fear. So, do I have power over my fear?
I think if it was anything else I'd be more sure. A ghost, a rampaging monster…I could deal with those things. But fire…it makes me freeze. I don't think I can face it.
What he had difficulty admitting was that he understood there was a much bigger power at work in his life, but that was hard to acknowledge. Because acknowledging that higher power might make him beholden to its purpose, and Sam didn't know if he was ready for that. And no matter what purpose a higher power might have for Sam's destiny, he was coming to understand that fire was the way to set it free.
But whether or not Sam was willing to accept the power within him, he could no longer deny that it was there. It had been there his whole life, dormant. Puberty had kind of kicked things up a notch, but Sam had managed to keep a lid on it and for a long time the power slumbered. But the days leading up to Jess' death had heralded a reawakening, and since her death the power had yearned to break free. Sam still had enough control to keep it at bay, and even in his sleep the power could only manifest in his dreams.
Sam was surprised when Jonathan broke the silence, speaking before he did. "Look upon the fire, Sam Winchester."
Obediently, Sam opened his eyes and looked at the small fire crackling merrily in the center of the room. "The wheel is centered on the fire. This is no mistake. There is a fire at the center of all of our journeys, Sam Winchester, just as there is at the center of yours. We believe that the fire at the center of the wheel represents the sacred fire – that place which connects us to the Creator."
Jonathan turned to look at Sam. "The fire at the center of all of us is not to be feared, it must be embraced. It is only then we can begin to understand what is beyond. It is not what you know…it is what you must believe." Jonathan turned his gaze back to the fire, and did not seem inclined to talk further.
Sam was disturbed at how Jonathan seemed to read his mind. Was it possible that the older man had sensed his thoughts about his fear and uncertainty? It seemed unlikely, so Sam didn't pursue it. For some time they sat together in silence. Sam allowed his thoughts to turn inward, and for the first time deliberately tried to examine the boundaries of the power within him. It was like worrying at a sore tooth; poking at it only makes it worse, but it was hard not to.
Could I do this? Could I really unleash what I've been feeling inside me? What would it do to me?
How could I not do it if taking the risk means saving Dean?
Sam's thoughts turned to Dean, and he unconsciously reached out to determine Dean's location. Because he was so open to self-examination, Sam was surprised to recognize that this was something he did all the time without even thinking about it. From the time they were young, Sam always knew where Dean was, whether or not he wanted him to. He'd fallen out of the habit when he'd gone away to Stanford, but since they'd been on the road, Sam had started doing it again. Sam knew two things in an instant – Dean was no longer in the house and he was hurt.
Sam lurched to his feet. "Dean!"
Sam's heart was hammering in his chest, suddenly the smoke in the room seemed oppressive and too thick to breathe. Jonathan rose when Sam did. "What is wrong?"
"Dean's not in the house. He's hurt. I think we're too late. I think this is it, the start of my dream…and I still don't know how to save him." Sam was practically hyperventilating in panic.
Jonathan laid a calming hand on Sam's chest. "You must believe more than you know, Sam Winchester." Sam stared at him incredulously. "And I believe I can help."
Jonathan wouldn't allow Sam to rush out of the smoke house. He made him take the time to get dressed. Sam wouldn't have understood why if Jonathan had taken the time to explain it, but Jonathan knew that Sam needed the time to clear his head. They walked back to the house in silence. It was clear upon their arrival what had happened there. There was a path of destruction and dishevelment between the living room and the dining room.
Sam picked up the beer bottle that had been upended in the fight. "It looks like something surprised Dean while he was sleeping." Sam tried to observe the scene clinically, but found it difficult to stay detached.
Jonathan nodded in agreement. "You can see the path of his flight. He was trying to get to this." Jonathan pointed at something out of Sam's line of sight. "Look familiar?"
Sam stepped around the couch and into the open doorway between the living room and dining room. There, displayed in a place of honor on the wall, was the knife from his dreams. Sam approached the knife in awe.
"You knew?" he demanded of Jonathan.
"I suspected," Jonathan replied, "when you described the weapon you carried to me." Jonathan reverently took the knife off of the wall. He passed it hilt first to Sam. "This is a ceremonial knife that has been passed down to me through many generations. Young men of our tribe are considered boys until they make their first kill in the hunt. It is the path to adulthood for most of them. But the men of my family were not hunters."
Sam watched as the light was reflected as he turned the knife back and forth in his hand; it was mesmerizing. Jonathan moved closer to Sam and laid a hand on his shoulder. "In my family, the men were shaman. Those who sought to understand the journey we all take. This knife was used in our ceremonies. It is not when we shed the blood of the animal in the hunt that we are made men…it is when we shed our own. Sacrifice is your path now, Sam Winchester. It is up to you to decide who will make it, you or your brother."