Summary:This was just supposed to be a simple job. However, Sam can't imagine anything more difficult than the choice he finds himself facing. And it's certainly not made any easier by the fact that Dean's being used as leverage...

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

A/N: Hello, readers. Let me take a minute to make a few more disclaimers here before the story begins. I of course don't know where the writers are going with the show in terms of Sam's abilities and the introduction of Meg. This fic however, is going to be dealing with both those aspects of the show, so I'm sure this will veer off into AU once the episodes of the show start explaining everything. This will basically be my own take on what I think Meg wants with Sam, and what I think his abilities are about. Or what they could be about, I should say. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy it, and I hope you won't be too bothered by the fictitious freedom I'm going to be taking with this story. But, that's what fan fiction's about, right? Leave a review on your way out, please! Oh, and also, the site seems to be having a glitch with spacing lately, so sorry if there's a few words that might randomly end up crammed together. There's not much I can do about it. Anyways, on with chapter one.

Way of the Hero

Chapter 1

"Hello?"

"Ah, yes, I'm trying to get a hold of a 'Dean Winchester?'"

A slight hesitation, "Speaking."

"Mr. Winchester? Sorry to be calling out of the blue like this. My name's David Fielding. I'm a member of the local Law Enforcement in Elko, Nevada—"

Dean's mind was speedily trying to process what he was hearing. A cop? From Elk—where? What the hell was this about?

"—tried calling your father, but I only got a message—"

"Wait, what?" Dean asked, quickly switching the phone from his left ear to his right. "You know my dad?"

"Yeah, John? I knew him from several years ago. He, uh—he really helped me—well my family actually, with something...a few years back." Dean noticed the slight pause after the word 'something' and understood.

The man went on, "I really owe him big, so I feel kind of bad calling, but he told me to keep in touch if I noticed anything...you know—weird happening again. And I only got his voice mail which said to contact you in case of an emergency, and well..."

"Yeah, I see," Dean replied. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

"Yeah...God, I'm sorry, I feel pretty stupid bothering you like this—"

"No, it's no problem," Dean cut in. "It's, uh, it's what I do," he tried to explain, not exactly sure how else to describe what he considered his job.

"It's just these inexplainable disappearances that have happened recently,"

"Disappearances?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, a couple of teenagers," the man explained. "Friends say they took a dare to spend the night in an old abandoned power plant in town, and no one's seen anything of them since...No bodies or anything—no trace at all."

Teenagers going into a haunted building only to never be seen again? Sounded a bit interesting. Rather cliché though too, really.

The man continued, "I know it's not much to go by, but really strange things have happened through the years concerning this old building, and these aren't the first people to go in and never come out. It's happened before, years ago, but everyone's turned a blind eye, refusing to believe that...maybe the cause might be something...you know, paranormal."

Dean signaled his understanding with a simple, "Mm hm."

"Anyways, if you and your brother think maybe you could—"

Dean's brow suddenly furrowed and a warning flag went up. He stiffened. "My brother?" he asked.

The man on the other end immediately hesitated.

"How do you know I have a brother?"

"Oh," the man said quickly, offering an uneasy laugh. "It sounded like you were going to tell me he passed away a while ago or something. I would have felt really bad for mentioning him. But he's okay, I take it?"

"Yeah..." Dean said slowly, not able to hide the fact that he thought this conversation had taken a really odd turn. They didn't even know this guy...

"Your dad told me about him, of course," the man quickly explained. "About both of you, in fact. Yeah, he talked about you two a lot. I could tell he sure loved his boys," he paused, then quickly caught himself, "still does, I'm sure."

Yeah, Dean thought. Loves us so much in fact, that we haven't seen the damn man in over six months. "Yeah, he's a pretty cool guy," were the words that actually came out of his mouth.

"Anyways," the man said, trying to get the conversation back on track, "I'd be willing to pay you guys, of course. If you're interested. The incident actually happened several months ago. I was about to just let it go, but I've heard talk lately that kids are starting to get curious about the building again. You know how kids are these days, right? Put a 'Keep Out' sign on anything and suddenly it becomes the hottest hang out in town. Damn kids...I'm just worried it might happen again if something isn't done."

Dean nodded his understanding. "A haunted...power plant, you said?"

The man gave a slight snort, realizing how ridiculous anyone else would find this.

"Sounds right up our alley," Dean said, briefly flashing his signature cocky grin.

The man gave Dean his address, thanked him, and hung up.

Dean flipped his phone shut and pressed his fist against his mouth, thinking. That was random, was the first thought that came to mind. He and Sam had actually been trying to find a gig for the past few days—without luck. It was always a refreshing change of pace when a gig found them. This one didn't sound too bad, either. The details had been vague, but gigs that fell under the category of "haunted buildings" usually didn't cause too much grief to solve. Well, unless that building happened to contain a dead psycho psychiatrist that was still managing to screw with other people's heads, Dean thought, recalling that unpleasant visit to an asylum weeks earlier. God, he hated thinking about that night. Sam had actually...he pushed the thought from his head, not wanting to go over it again for the millionth time, when there was really no need. Sam had said he was sorry. More than a few times, actually. And Dean didn't hold any grudges. He didn't want Sam to carry any unnecessary guilt from that night. But still...those words that were said would take a long time to forget. No matter how much Dean wanted to forget them.

He glanced over at the sprawled figure on the opposite bed that just so happened to be his sleeping brother. As usual, some sort of reading material—be it a book, newspaper, or magazine—was draped across his chest, apparently boring enough to have put even Sam out. He almost considered waking him to tell him about their new buddy from Elko, Nevada, but he knew he'd regret it if he did. God knows it was a miracle anytime Sam managed a full night's sleep. Poor kid. He just couldn't seem to keep things from constantly running through that freak head of his. Sam just thought about everything too much. He over analyzed things. And he somehow managed to always find a way to blame himself for the most ridiculous things. It drove Dean crazy. He made sure however, not to let on too much of the fact that he actually was concerned for his brother's sleeping habits (or lack thereof). Sam would think he was getting soft or something.

Dean sighed and leaned back against his pillows. Time to go to sleep. He reached over and flipped off the bedside lamp. They had a long drive in the morning.

Dean was asleep in a matter of minutes. He slept soundly. Hardly moving. Hardly making a peep. He never heard the gasp across the room at 3:17 a.m. Nor did he notice the frantic figure at his bedside at 3:18, making sure he was safe and sound...which he was. For the mean time.

"So, you're sure about this job?" Sam asked, turning his head to glance at his brother in the opposite seat.

"For the third time, Sam, yes," Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road. "What's there not to be sure about? Sounds easy. And dude, the guy's gonna pay us."

Sam turned his gaze back to the road. "Still..."

Dean could tell something was bugging him. "What?" he asked, wishing he would just spit it out and not make him go through the whole guessing game that was always so frequently a part of their conversations.

"Well," Sam said, "To be honest, Dean...it doesn't sound too urgent. The kids disappeared months ago and nothing's happened since, right? It'll probably just end up being a waste of time."

"So?" Dean replied. He could tell that wasn't the real reason Sam was hesitant about the job. He sighed. Here we go again with the whole guessing thing. "It's worth at least checking out. And it's not a waste of time if we're getting paid, is it?"

True, it wasn't. Sam let out an exasperated breath. "Dean, it's a power plant," he said, as if that explained everything. He turned to look at his brother once more.

...So? Dean looked over at his brother, a questioning look on his face. He didn't get it. Sam raised his eyebrows a touch. Dean looked back to the road, and something clicked in his mind. He looked back at Sam.

"Ohhh, I get it," he said and snorted. "You're afraid of having me around all those wires and high voltage crap, huh?" a crooked grin pulled at his mouth. "Well, don't worry, Sammy. I might be slow to learn lessons, but I think I've definitely learned mine when it comes to electricity," he joked.

"Don't joke about that," Sam said, pursing his lips and turning his gaze back to the road. The memory of that week from hell was still all too clear in his mind.

"Dude, lighten up," Dean said, his grin fading. "The building's been out of operation for years, anyway. There's nothing to worry about."

Sam just continued to stare straight ahead. Then why does this job feel so...not right?

"What is it?" Dean demanded. Sam started a bit. He hadn't noticed Dean had been watching him closely.

Sam released his breath. "Nothing," he said.

All right, that was just starting to piss him off now. "Sam," Dean said, trying his best to keep his patience in check. "Don't give me that crap, okay? I'm your brother. I can tell when something's bugging you. And I think I'd have a right to know what it is."

Sam sighed once more, giving in. "It's just..." he began, "more nightmares," he knew that sounded pretty pathetic. It's just that he couldn't shake these freaky dreams he'd been having lately. They weren't normal nightmares. He knew well enough by now to think they were.

"About what?" Dean asked, not really too surprised. Or worried, for that matter. A few nightmares never hurt anyone. Sure, sometimes they could be involved in weird coincidences (particularly in his freak little brother's case), but he was convinced they were nothing to get too worked up about.

"Look, I'd rather not talk about it," Sam said, and Dean knew he shouldn't press. They both turned their eyes to the road once more.

Dean couldn't help it, though. Sam's brooding silence drove him crazy sometimes. A moment later he glanced back to his brother. "Nightmares are normal, Sam," he offered.

"Are they, Dean?" Sam said, quickly turning to meet his brother's gaze, an edge to his voice. He gave his brother a hard stare before continuing. "Is it normal to dream about your girlfriend's death days before it happens?" he paused, still staring hard. Dean remained silent. "Is it normal to dream about a traumatized family going through the same shit ours went through in that house?" a shorter pause, "Is it normal to dream about your brother—" he immediately caught himself.

Dean froze. What was that?

Sam quickly turned his gaze back out the windshield. "Never mind," he mumbled almost inaudibly. He had not meant for that to slip.

Dean continued to stare at his brother for a moment longer, lost for words. So, he was the latest subject of his brother's nightmares, huh? He hadn't been expecting that. He didn't want Sam to see he had been shaken a bit by this news, however, so, not knowing what else to do, he quickly fell back to his typical way of dealing with difficult situations.

"Well," Dean said, giving a short snort. "If your dreams fall under the same category as the majority of mine, then, no, I'd have to say it's definitely not normal to be dreaming about your brother." he forced a grin. "In fact, that might even warrant psychological help, Sammy," he said, pausing to see if his brother had smiled yet.

Sam remained stony-faced, staring ahead.

"Though," Dean said, trying once more, "I can't really blame you. I mean, I am—"

"Dean," Sam said, cutting him off. He didn't look at him, just gave a slight shake of his head. He wasn't in the mood to joke about this.

Dean got the hint and turned his attention back to the road. "Tough crowd today. Man..."

A thick silence crystallized around them, forming a glass barrier that could so easily be shattered if only one of them was willing. Shattering an awkward silence like that took guts though, which neither one of them had at the moment. So the silence continued to blanket them, depressing their moods and darkening their thoughts.

Finally, minutes later, Dean plucked up the courage to switch on the music. Sam had never been more relieved to hear Led Zeppelin come blaring out of the speakers. He knew he and Dean would have to talk about this eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to spill it all right now. He didn't even know what the hell was going on with him lately, so how could he expect Dean to understand? Plus, he didn't want to deal with Dean making light humor of it. He just wasn't in the mood. He knew that was Dean's way of trying to make him feel better, but it didn't always work. He also knew Dean used it as a defense mechanism, trying to hide how he really felt about serious issues. And Sam wasn't sure if that was always the healthiest way to deal with things. He knew Dean felt things a lot deeper than he let on.

Sighing, Sam laid his head back against the seat. Did he dare risk taking a nap? He was more concerned about Dean witnessing one of his nightmares than he was about actually having one. He decided against it and resorted to staring out the passenger window at the boring countryside passing by. He sighed again. This was going to be a long drive. And the destination didn't feel too promising.