Chapter Four

John wanted to get in one more training session before he left on his hunt early the next morning, so after school he took his sons deep into the woods far from curious eyes. They had almost two hours before dark and would continue for up to three more hours of night maneuvers.

Dad laid out his plan. He would get a fifteen minute head start before his sons would track him down and try to take him out. They each had a backpack with supplies and weapons.

Sam was in a surly mood. He still blamed Dad for not rescuing his brother from his bar fight. That was one more item on his list of Dad's transgressions: leaving them yet again for a hunt, making them spend every day after school on maneuvers, treating them like soldiers instead of sons, and finally, watching Dean get beat up by a massive bruiser twice his size and doing nothing.

Dean took this exercise very seriously. He was ready and willing to participate in these maneuvers, his only limitation being his still sore ribs, but he would never let that dampen his enthusiasm. He would take great pride in overtaking his dad and proving he was worthy.

He grumbled that Sam was going to be a liability this time; he knew how stubborn his kid brother could be when he was annoyed. He knew his brother was totally annoyed with Dad, which he really didn't understand; after all it was Dean who had gotten beat up. If it didn't bother him why should it bother his brother? Sammy was such a drama queen.

Dad took off and it seemed like an eternity before it was time to start tracking him. Dean took the lead, while Sam reluctantly followed along. John started off trying to backtrack and throw them off his trail but Dean had seen that before; he'd have to try harder to lose his sons.

John used all his Marine training to try to evade his sons, but they stayed right on his trail. Dean had always been a quick study when it came to military maneuvers. Sammy always teased him about not reading books, but Dean read what interested him: tactical maneuvers, military battle plans, practical information that could possibly save their lives one day.

They stayed on Dad's trail but were not close enough to overtake him as darkness fell. It would be even more difficult to succeed after dark. They put on their night vision goggles and continued their mission.

"Dean, why don't we just go home and tell Dad we couldn't find him?"

"Sammy, don't be a quitter."

"Why do you like playing Dad's games?"

"They're not games Sammy. They're maneuvers. This is important. Try learning something for once. If you'd pay attention, you could learn a heck of a lot more from Dad than any of your teachers. Why are you always fighting him?"

"Cause he treats us like soldiers. I just want to have a normal life. Why can't he let us be normal?"

"Come on Sammy, you can't really be that naïve? You know why. You know what's out there."

"Other people live normal lives, they don't know and they live normal lives."

"We're not normal Sammy, and we'll never be normal. We have a job to do. We have a responsibility. You better get used to it, cause that's the way it is. This is your life dude."

Sam gave up trying to reason with his brother. He'd had this conversation before and had never made a dent in Dean's position. His brother was firmly entrenched in his beliefs. He believed Dad was this masterful, all-knowing vanquisher of evil. He worshiped Dad.

Dean was getting angry with Sammy. He hated feeling this way but his brother had a way of rebelling against everything he believed in. Every fight Sammy had with Dad was an affront to him. His memories of his mom dying that terrible night had forever shaped his view of the world. Sammy still thought the world could be a safe place, while Dean had learned at four that the world was a scary and dangerous place.

Dad's war on evil was the only solace Dean had; his only chance to right the wrong of his mom dying. Part of Dean envied Sam's innocence, but he knew he himself could never again be innocent.

Dean picked up his pace; he knew they were close to overtaking Dad. He motioned Sammy to continue on their current path and he took off on a diagonal trek through the underbrush. He circled around and came out ahead of his dad who was sitting on a rock waiting for him.

"What took you so long, son?"

"How long you been waiting?"

"Only about three minutes. Not bad son, I tried to shake you but you hung right in there."

Sammy came upon them a minute later; Dean and John were joshing each other, laughing and trading quips. He was relieved that at least they could go home now. Part of him envied Dean's closeness with Dad; Sam sometimes felt like the odd man out.

It was late by the time they returned home. Everyone was tired and they all had to get up early the next morning so they silently went to bed. Dad had said his goodbyes and would be gone when Sam and Dean awoke in the morning.

He felt his ribs exploding as the vampires threw him against the wall. The head vampire aimed the crossbow at him and fired. The arrow entered his left shoulder and impaled him to the wall. He tried to pull the arrow out, but the head was securely embedded in the wall. The evil vampire laughed as Dean struggled to break free.

"How does it feel hunter?" The vamp sneered at Dean.

Dean knew if he didn't act fast he would be dead. The pain was intense but he forced himself to slide his shoulder forward on the arrow. He grabbed the shaft of the arrow and held it firmly as he used all the leverage he could manage to snap the arrow between his shoulder and the wall. He fell to the ground as the next arrow struck where his heart had been.

Dean awoke for an instant and cursed these dreams. He just needed a good night's sleep. Why were these dreams persisting? He rolled over and closed his eyes.

Dad grabbed the shaft of the arrow and quickly pulled it out as blood started to spurt. He plunged the hot steel rod into Dean's shoulder to seal the wound and the pain was excruciating. The smell of his own burning flesh was nauseating and he wondered if he could survive this torment. His body tensed and thrashed against his bindings, muffled screams escaped from his clenched mouth.

The pain was unbearable; he couldn't understand why he hadn't passed out yet. The hot metal was burning his flesh, searing his very soul, but still he was conscious. His fever was causing delirium and he thought he saw his mom. Mommy, wait for me. Mommy, don't go. Mommy, please don't die.

His eyes opened slowly as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. Two in the morning, what was happening to him? He needed some sleep. Why were these dreams haunting him? He willed himself to sleep without dreams and closed his eyes.

His emotions were raging out of control: guilt, panic, shame, sheer terror. How could he tell Dad how badly he had screwed up? His brother was the most important person in his life and his recklessness had put him in danger. His brother was gone, probably hurt or maybe even dead, and it was all his fault.

His world was collapsing in on him; he was suffocating from the weight of his overwhelming pain. He knew he could not survive if his brother died. His brother's safety was his responsibility, his job. How could he be such a selfish bastard? He had been weak and let his own wants dictate his actions. He knew he had to save his brother, that was the only option.

Dean awoke with a gasp and relived all the anxiety he felt in that horrible gut-wrenching moment when he realized his brother's life was in danger because of his negligence. These dreams were finally touching on his deepest fears. Demons, evil beings and supernatural phenomenon would be enough to keep most people in a state of anxiety, but that was common place for Dean Winchester. His real terror came from danger to his family. His mom and Sammy were the key to his deepest fears. He could survive fighting and the unexplained. Being left alone, losing his family was his true nightmare.