Legion

This little story is based on a dream that the Skylark had one week after not being able to get her Supernatural fix.

Disclaimer:

I've seen this show

You can watch it, you know

It's got lots of ghosts

And demon boasts

And other things to make it look good

I'd give it to you if I could,

But I borrowed it.

(This poem has been heinously ripped off from Pink Floyd's song, "Bike".)


Chapter One

Sam Winchester was still awake, despite the clock reading 2:31 A.M. There were jackhammers going off in his head and that could only mean one thing - another wonderful vision. He sat down at the table of their shoddy hotel room. The place was practically disintegrating before his eyes, yet its price seemed to make it the best that back-water Ohio had to give to them. At least the bugs were free, and they always make for an interesting stay.

Sam let out a sigh and began kneading his temples with his knuckles; trying to will out the fox only to have it prey on your chickens. He couldn't help feeling like he had some kind of disease. It was sort of like mental herpes, what with the incessantly annoying flare-ups. He'd probably come up with thousands of better- suited ailments to compare it to later. At the moment, the rhythmic thumping on his skull was inhibiting the thought process; it was quite distracting.

Over the pounding, he could just make out his brother moving around behind him. No doubt he had also been awake this whole time. Dean Winchester is a light sleeper on most occasions, so Sam's tossing and turning was probably equivalent to the noise of a locomotive speeding by the window. He heard Dean doing some rummaging and the sink turning on and off, but it sounded distant; just some weird noises coming through and intra-dimensional rift instead of his brother not even five feet away.

Just as Sam was wincing, expecting the next wave of pain, Dean came and stood next to him. He put a glass of water and a few aspirin in front of his brother's line of vision. Sam looked up to show his thanks as the wave finally exploded behind his eyes. Dean doesn't have to be told when he's having an Alyssa Milano moment.

The elder Winchester looked at Sam with as much concern as he dared muster without the fear of seeming sappy. "Just try to get some sleep when you're done, all right?" he said, his voice coming from the void.

All Sam could manage was a muffled "sure", and an almost invisible nod of the head.

Dean was satisfied by the feeble answer however, and gave him a quick pat on the back before returning to bed. Instead of going to sleep himself, he put the television on mute.

This was first premonition that Sam had to suffer through in a while, but that didn't make it anymore reassuring. Chances were that whatever he was going to see wasn't going to be very pretty. All he could hope was that he'd be able to get to where ever the warning was from before any serious damage was done. He still didn't quite understand what the point of these visions were if sometimes nothing could be done about them. Unless of course, something was just toying with him, like you do to a dog with a stick- sometimes they run after it, even if it was never thrown. Sam could just about picture those Powers That Be laughing their shimmering little butts off as Sammy runs off playing the hopeless hero.

Another tumult racked through his brain sending rainbows flashing behind his eyelids. What the hell was taking it so long? Sam had liked it much better when he had had no time to think in the moment between the first ounce of pain and the oncoming vision.

He could feel Dean's gaze on him as he waited in anxious anticipation for the short horror flick to begin playing. And finally, after what seemed like twenty turns of the hourglass, it did.

Sam once again took the eyes of another to get a better view of the drama that he would soon have to be a part of himself. Everything was relatively dark where ever he was, except for what seemed to be three slats where light was coming through right in front of him.

There wasn't a single thing on the other side of the darkness as far as Sam was concerned. He was looking out through the slats at a deserted corridor with a door opposite him. He could just make out the words on a sign, which read 'Library'.

And there was something else; something that Sam noticed straight away that all his years of Winchester training was useless for.

He felt…happy. But, it was happy used in the worst possible sense. He was dreadfully joyous for the prospect of bloodshed. Exuberant at the thought of creating a reign of terror, to hear agony and smell death; to taste the world's sweet decay.

Sam knew that this wasn't him, but the being whose head he was in that was awash in such black euphoria, but he had never before been so anxious to get back to a third-rate motel room. The chaotic power he felt was utterly terrifying but it wanted him stay. This was too much evil to take in one sitting, it was oozing out of every pore of the demon's body. It had to be a demon. Sure, people could be nefarious, but this was just inhuman.

And it obviously had to be stopped.

Something real bad was going down real soon. It only figures that the Winchesters would be stuck right in the middle.