Dislcaimer: I do not own Supernatural...

A/N:Sorry it took over a week to update. I promised myself I wouldn't be a lazy writer when it came to Supernatural fics, and I'm going to try and stay true to that. Just a reminder--review button's on the bottom left of the screen! And thanks so much to all those nice reviews for chapter 1!

Chapter 2

"Well, this must be it," Dean said, bringing the Impala to a stop. "Corner of third and Elm Street." He put the car in park and shut the engine off. He turned to look at his brother who was currently taking in their surroundings. The neighborhood was very middle class. Nothing too fancy. Nothing too shabby. Very normal looking neighborhood. However, both brothers had known since childhood just how deceiving "normal" could be.

"Well?" Dean asked, catching Sam's attention.

"Well, what?"

"You okay with this?"

Sam snorted. "A little late to be asking that when we're practically standing outside the guy's door."

"Seriously, Sam," Dean went on, "If you're not feeling up to this..."

Sam knew what he really meant was If you've had any of those freak premonitions and think there's some reason we shouldn't be here...

"No, it's all right," Sam replied. "We're already here."

Dean hesitated, studying his brother's face. He decided to quit beating around the bush and get to what was really bothering him. "Will you tell me about that dream you mentioned earlier?"

Sam's gaze snapped to meet his brother's. They had just sat through six hours of not talking. And Dean was bringing this up now?

"You know, the one you mentioned featuring me?"

Sam looked down.

Seeing his brother's hesitation, Dean went on. "Does it have anything to do with this place, Sam?"

Sam gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'm not a fortune-teller, Dean."

Dean let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Just tell me about the dream, will you? I hate it when you keep shit like this from me."

Sam looked away and nodded. It was true. Dean couldn't stand not being let in on things. Sam couldn't help but be a little amused by Dean's begging, though. He very rarely resorted to that. He usually went with the fine-if-you're-not-going-to-tell-me-that's-your-loss attitude. Compromising a bit of his pride however, told Sam that Dean really was concerned about the issue at hand. And wanting to appease his brother, Sam took a breath and tried to explain.

"It started just a few days ago," he began. "I've only had the dream a few times—three or four, maybe. And the weird thing is," he said, pausing for a brief moment, "I can't remember a single detail about it..." he chewed on the inside of his lip for a second. This wasn't the easiest thing to say. "All I know is that it's about you. I wake up, not remembering anything I was dreaming about, but...I just have this awful feeling...like I'm positive something's happened to you...I dunno, I can't explain it...But honestly, it scares the hell out of me. I actually have to get up in the middle of the night and make sure you're asleep in the other bed just to convince myself I actually was dreaming." Sam quickly released his breath, and turned to look once again at his brother, hoping his thoughts would be easy to read by his expression.

Dean's face was passive, however, not offering Sam much insight into what he was thinking. He nodded slowly a couple times. "So..." he said, trying to sound casual, "No visions of me getting fried in a haunted power plant?" he forced a grin. "I'd say we're good to go then."

Sam gave him a slightly incredulous look. "That's it?" he asked. "This doesn't bother you as much as it does me?"

"Sounds like a normal dream to me, Sammy," Dean said, though he didn't quite sound completely convinced of that himself. "A little on the morbid side maybe, but you can't pick and choose all your dreams, can you?" the slight grin he'd been wearing faded. "Plus, there were visions that accompanied those last nightmares, weren't there? You know, the freak coincidence ones?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Well, this one sounds different. If there wasn't a vision to go with it, there can't be a future event linked to it," he reasoned. Sounded like bullshit though, even to him.

Sam sighed. So like Dean. Always jumping to the first reassuring conclusion, despite how far from the truth it might be. "So, randomly waking up in the middle of the night dead-sure your brother has died or something is a completely normal thing to have happen on occasion, huh?" Sam said, nodding sarcastically.

"Well...it may be normal considering that recently almost happened," Dean said, putting an emphasis on the last words. That was it! Sam was just having flashbacks about the whole faith-healing incident. Dean instantly felt loads better.

"Look, Sammy, I just had my stroke with death and I won't be due for another one for quite some time." he grinned and started to turn towards the door, about to open it. He turned back towards his brother, cocky grin still in place. "It's nice to know I've got my own personal watch dog lookin' out for me at night, though," he said and reached over to give his brother a couple of playful pats on the cheek. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam dodged his brother's hand, a small half-annoyed, half-amused grin on his face. This happened to be one of those times that Dean's humor actually did make him feel a bit better. And it was nice having things out in the open. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe these recent dreams were just some form of repressed stress from that "week from hell," as he would always so fondly remember it as. It would make sense. He had been repressing his emotions from that week like he'd never repressed anything before. God...he wondered if he'd ever be able to face the memories of that week without actually feeling physically sick...That helpless feeling of having no hope...Knowing that Dean was going to die no matter what...Man, how had they managed to pull through that?

Dean's door slammed shut and instantly snapped Sam's attention back to the present. Dean was already making his way up the sidewalk towards the house. Sam hastily undid his seatbelt and followed suit.

Dean reached the door first and rang the bell. He heard footsteps approach and a moment later the door swung open to reveal a middle aged man, tall and solid, with pepper-flecked hair. He offered a friendly smile upon seeing them.

"Dean Winchester," the man said, holding his hand out. Dean took it and was met with a firm grip.

"Officer Fielding," Dean said, nodding to him and releasing his hand. "This is my brother Sam," he said, gesturing. The two grasped hands in greeting.

"Call me David," the man said, and stepped to the side, gesturing for the boys to enter. "Please, come in."

The boys followed him in and were met with a very homey living room. It had a cheerful feel to it—like this was a place children had happily grown up in. Sam noticed David had to be married. The decorating was definitely that of a woman. He scanned the room; first the mantle, then the coffee table, then the bookshelves on the wall, expecting to find at least dozen framed photos of random happy family moments frozen forever in time—A little boy's first fish caught. A little girl's first day of school. Didn't normal families love to display stuff like that all over their houses? Funny...this house didn't have any.

"I really appreciate you boys coming all the way out here," David began, closing the door behind them. "Is there anything I can get you guys? Water? A beer?"

"No, we're okay," Dean said, wanting to skip the usual friendly talk.

"Well," David said, slapping his thighs, "Should we get right down to business then?" He made his way to the coffee table and picked up the manila folder he had set there earlier. He handed it to Dean. "Here's some information I gathered for you about the power plant. There's also some profiles of the missing kids I printed off in there."

"Obituaries?" Sam asked.

"No, actually, there was never enough evidence found for them to be declared dead. The families never held any type of funeral services that I'm aware of. I think they still had hope the kids were alive somewhere. Maybe as runaways or something. I don't know. Both families have since moved away..."

Sam instantly felt for the families of the missing teenagers. There was nothing worse than lack of closure.

"Whoa, what's this?" Dean asked, opening the folder. Seven crisp one-hundred dollar bills lay neatly on top a stack of papers.

"Oh, just recompense for you guys taking the trouble to come out here. I wasn't sure what your going-rate was. I hope that'll be enough."

"Well, I don't know about you, Sammy," Dean said, glancing at his brother, "but last time I checked gas prices weren't that high."

"Oh, It's not just to cover the gas," David explained, though he knew Dean was joking. "I just feel I owe it to you guys."

Sam's brow furrowed ever so slightly. Wasn't this guy a cop? Where'd he come up with an extra seven hundred dollars to throw around? And they hadn't even done anything yet...

"You're paying us in advance?" Sam asked, barely managing to keep the slight suspicion he was feeling out of his voice.

"Yeah," David replied. He quickly went on, "Actually, I have a flight to catch this afternoon," Sam raised his eyebrows. David continued, "Yeah, my oldest son's wife went into labor three weeks early yesterday. My wife caught the first flight she could last night, and I promised I'd follow as soon as possible. I'm really sorry about this. Perfect timing for a family emergency, huh?"

Sam nodded slowly, not really sure what to make of all this.

"Oh...well, I hope everything turns out okay," Dean said, adding a concerned tone to his voice.

"Yeah, me too," David said, sighing. "Anyways," he went on, "if you guys could just check out that building, and, you know, do whatever necessary...," he sought for the word, "exorcisms might need to be done, I would just really appreciate it. It could just make the difference in saving a few lives down the road."

Dean nodded his understanding. "Shouldn't be a problem. We'll be sure to get back to you on how it goes," he assured.

"I'd appreciate it," David replied. "Oh, and I printed directions off Mapquest. The plant's at the base of Anglo-gold Jerritt Canyon. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Great," Dean said. "Thanks. Well," he said, looking to his brother, "We'll go check it out then." He turned towards the door.

Sam cleared his throat, not ready to leave just yet. "If you don't mind me asking," he said, directing his question at David, "What exactly was it our dad helped you out with a few years back?"

"Poltergeist," David replied without hesitation. "Four years ago." He paused, reflecting. "Yeah...pretty nasty things, those are."

"And, how exactly did you two meet?"

"Sam," Dean cut in, his voice a little reprimanding. Sam was never impolite like that to strangers. Here they had finally met a nice cop (who had just payed them seven hundred dollars!) and Sam was grilling the man like he was some sort of crime suspect or something.

Sam met his brother's gaze. "Just wondering," he said innocently.

"Oh, it's no problem," David replied. He wasn't put off by Sam's questions. "Your father found me, actually. I posted on a few internet forums about the unexplainable occurrences that happened in my home. Your dad happened to reply saying he was willing to help." He paused. "He's a great guy." He paused again. "What's he up to these days?"

"Oh," Dean said, quickly sorting through the usual excuses he was so quick at pulling out of his ass. But then he remembered this man already knew about his father's antics and decided to go with, "Same old," It was honest for the most part. However, Dean didn't exactly know just what his old man was up to. He hadn't exactly been calling each night to check in.

"Still looking for that thing that killed your mom, huh?"

Sam's gaze immediately snapped up. "He told you?" he asked, hardly believing it.

"Well...yeah," David replied, slightly confused. He looked quickly from one brother to the next, trying to read on their faces why they found that so shocking. "Was he not supposed to?"

Dean and Sam stole a glance at each other, reassuring one another that they were indeed thinking the same thing. Their father very rarely confided their mother's death to other people, let alone a stranger he had met over the internet.

"Hey," David said, bringing their attention back to him. "I'm really sorry about what happened to her. Tell your father I wish him the best of luck in his search, okay?"

The brothers nodded in unison, still deep in their own thoughts. Brief goodbyes were spoken, hands were once again shaken, and the brothers soon found themselves once again seated in the interior of the Impala.

"Well," Sam said after a moment, speaking both of their thoughts. "That was weird," he paused, "to say the least."

Dean didn't say anything, he just reached forward and fired up the engine.

Sam took it as a signal to keep talking. "I mean, we've never even heard of this guy, and yet he talks to us like he's some long, lost uncle or something. If he was supposedly good enough friends with Dad that Dad even told him about mom, why didn't Dad ever mention him to us?" He paused and looked over at his brother. "Did Dad ever tell you about some poltergeist gig in...Elko, Nevada?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Dad's worked a ton of solo gigs, Sam. I doubt we've heard the half of them."

Sam released his breath in exasperation. Typical Dean again. Always rationalizing the situation. "So," he said, "Nothing about this seems weird to you?"

"No more weird than any of our other jobs," Dean argued.

"Not the job, Dean," Sam countered, "That guy." He stared at his older brother, trying to catch a glimpse of a facial expression that would show him Dean wasn't as sure about this as he was letting on.

Dean just continued to stare straight ahead, trying hard not to get annoyed by his little brother's paranoia.

Sam went on. "He paid us seven hundred dollars, Dean. In advance," he continued to stare at Dean, seeing if any of this was registering. "That man's a cop, Dean."

"So?" Dean asked, losing his patience. "What the hell are you getting at, Sam?" He finally turned and met his brother's gaze. He continued, "So, he was generous enough to pay us some good money. So, he knows a little about us. Why is that so unnerving? He seems like a good guy. A good guy that Dad trusted enough to tell about mom. He just wants us to work a simple job for him—help the people in his town." he paused. "Now tell me which part of that has got your panties in such a goddamn twisted knot?"

Sam sighed. He knew Dean was having the exact same reservations about this as he was. He just wasn't letting on about them. Because letting on about things you're not sure of makes you vulnerable. And if there was one thing Dean never was, it was vulnerable. Sam just shook his head and turned to stare out the windshield. "Well," he said after a moment, "maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least try calling Dad and asking him about all this."

Dean's jaw tightened. "He won't answer."

And Sam knew it was true. He wouldn't pick up when his own damn son was dying, he wouldn't pick up for this. He felt his teeth clench.

"Look, Sammy," Dean said, a reasoning tone to his voice. "We'll just get this over with and then get the hell out of here, okay?" he stole a glance at his kid brother. "You've just got to relax, man."

Sam reached up and rubbed his eyes, willing some of the frustration he was feeling to vent. Dean was right. This was a simple job. He was grasping at straws that weren't there, and as a result, he was getting worked up for no reason. Right? Or was he just desperately trying to convince himself that this whole situation wasn't shady when he was absolutely certain that it was? Oh, God...Sam thought, rubbing his brow. Why am I so damn confused?

At least he had Dean. Steadfast, straightforward, cocksure Dean.

And suddenly, Sam wasn't worried anymore. He would always have Dean. And together, they could get through any damn gig that was thrown at them. He didn't give a damn about his nightmares anymore. He would always have his older brother, and there wasn't a damn thing in this world that he would ever let change that fact.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes and before he knew it, he felt the Impala slowing to a stop. There it was, looming at him through the passenger window. The old power plant.

Chapter 3 coming soon...

Reviewer Responses! It's only fair, right?

Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! It gets annoying how much writers stress the importance of reviews, but yeah, they are great. Keep 'em up!

Rowenna Luna: First reviewers are so special. That means you, Rowenna, are special. :)

warrior of the shadow: Second reviewers are almost as special as first ones! You, warrior of the shadow, are so close to being as cool as Rowenna. So close. Thanks for reviewing.

Gator-Girl: Hey, thanks so much, Gator-girl. And thanks for adding it to your community.

darlindarlin: Thanks, darlindarlin. I'm so glad you found the conversations believable. The interaction between the boys is definitely the funnest part of a fic to write.

Ghostwriter: Hey, now, what story would be complete without a review from Ghostwriter? If only we were all like you...

Alyssa43: Thanks, Alyssa! Hope you still like it.

PowrRangrFreeek: Haha, I like your name. Thanks for the review, bud.

Falling Sun: Haha, I'm guilty of that too, Falling Sun. It's shameful, I know. Thanks for giving it a chance though. I need to start working on breaking that habit as well.

Moonfairyhime: Hi, Moonfairyhime. I like the quote on your profile. Thanks for reviewing. You're a dear.

Eternal Dragon101: Thanks for the feedback! You're another good reviewer I see around a lot, like Ghostwriter. I need to come up with a catchy "peace out phrase" like you guys have. They're great.

Master Li: Thank you, Master!

Nate and Jake: Thanks for the review! And are you crazy? Of course there will be plenty more guilt in store for Sam! No one does angst like Sammy, don't you think?

Anamalia-fear: I like your taste in books! And actors. Except I'm not too sure about Tom Cruise anymore...

ChaiGrl: Hope you're still with me, Chaigrl! Thanks for that nice review. :)

Violet Eternity: You don't trust David? He's a nice guy! Hehe, thanks for the review, Violet.

tvfanatic217: Lol, the "wonk wonk" really cracked me up for some reason! Again with the clever "peace out phrases!" I think everyone should have one.

rockstarhobbit: Very cool pen name, rockstarhobbit. I immediately thought of Charlie from Lost. Which, I'm pretty sure is what you were getting at right? I'm a little slow. But, I love Lost. That last Charlie-centered episode definitely wasn't one of their best though. And geez, what was up with Locke? He was so dang rude to Charlie. Some episodes I actually like Locke and think he's a good guy. But others just lead me to the conclusion that that man's absolutely crazy! Anyways, thanks for the review!

geminigrl11: Oh, thanks so much geminigrl! You're such a sweetheart. :)

Becka73: Thanks, Becka! I'm still debating with myself how AU I want to go with this fic. But I have some interesting theories and they just might drive me crazy if I don't put them in this fic.

teal-lover: Haha, yeah, what kind of story would this be if our boys didn't end up in trouble? Thanks for reviewing!

brigurl: Thanks for the review, brigurl. Oh, I hate quickedit, too! It screws up the spacing!

pmsdevil01: Hey, thanks. Ha, I like your pen name. We all have our pms-y days. And we all suck at summaries too, so no worries. :)

mimifoxlove: Thanks, mimi! Let's hope it has a promising middle and ending too, right? Thanks for the review.