Alone Chapter 5: Nightmares, a supernatural fanfic

Chapter Five

The school day had seemed to last forever. Dean was tired from his night of dreams and his only thought was to get home and get some much needed rest. For once he was glad Dad had left and he could skip maneuvers. He knew he would get no complaints from Sammy if he let up on their training for this one night. As soon as dinner was over he headed up to his room to catch up on his sleep.

The fire burned so bright it was blinding him. The heat was sweltering and seared his flesh. The pain seemed to engulf everything with flaming torment. Mommy, Mommy, he cried out. Mommy, come down from the ceiling, come tuck me in. Mommy, I'm so scared. Mommy, please don't leave me, I'll be good, I won't ever be bad again. Mommy, please don't leave me, I'm so scared. Mommy, Mommy.

Dean moaned as he came to. Why was he dreaming so much? Why was he having this nightmare? He was exhausted from the constant dreams the last few nights, he needed rest. He closed his eyes and tried to get some undisturbed sleep.

Dean awoke with a start. His heart was pounding and sweat was soaking his bedding as if the heat from the fire was real. What was happening to him? He hadn't had these nightmares in years. After his mom's death, he had struggled to find any semblance of a normal sleep routine, as the nightmares had been a nightly occurrence.

He couldn't get the images of that night out of his mind for months; they had lingered to torment and taunt him. He had felt consumed by them and the helplessness they inspired. At four years old, he couldn't comprehend this wasn't all related to him; he knew that somehow he had failed his mom and caused this tragedy. He didn't know how or why, he just knew in his heart if he had been a good enough son, his mom would not have died.

The nightmares finally eased when John put Dean's focus on protecting Sammy. He told him his brother was his responsibility and he needed to keep him safe. Perhaps that was a cruel thing for a father to do to his own son: make a four year old responsible for a baby brother, but it seemed to ease Dean's perceived guilt. In his mind, it gave him a second chance. He had finally come to understand his mom was dead and would not be coming back, but if he could protect Sammy and keep him safe, then maybe in a small way, he could redeem himself.

Why was this all coming back to him now in a tidal wave of pain and agony? Sleep was eluding him; he was having this nightmare every time he closed his eyes. What had triggered these memories? In the past, he had recurrences of the nightmare on the anniversary of his mom's death, or whenever a trauma surfaced in his life, but now? He couldn't think of anything eventful that would be triggering this torment. If they had started when he was recovering from that arrow wound, when his emotions were still raw with the guilt and shame at putting Sam in jeopardy, that would make sense. But they had not started then. Why now?

He decided to not press his luck and just rise for the day. He had gone for longer periods of time without sleep; he could survive on a couple hours a night. He went downstairs to get an early start on breakfast. He had plenty of time so he cooked some sausage and bacon to go with Sammy's eggs.

Sam came down the stairs earlier than usual, the smell of breakfast welcoming him.

"Wow, Dean. What time did you get up?"

"I've been up for a while, I guess. You need to start eating more protein to build muscle. We need to get you in the weight room."

"You look really tired. Are you sure you got enough sleep last night?"

"Look Sammy, like I told you before, no need for you to worry about me. Finish your breakfast and let's get to school."

"So, how do you like going to school everyday?"

"Like Clint says: It makes my day!" Dean smiled broadly.

Sam thought it odd again, that the only reason Dean was faithfully going to school was because Dad ordered him to. He still had not figured out Dad's hold over his brother.

Dean dropped off Sammy at the middle school and drove down the street and parked at the high school.

He was walking toward the building when he heard Stacy calling to him. He was exhausted from his restless night and didn't know if he had the stamina to deal with her this morning. He kept walking and hoped she would give up and leave him alone. She would not be avoided; she appeared in front of him and cut him off.

"Dean, won't you just be honest with me for once. What were the antibiotics really for? Sam said your hand got infected and your dad couldn't afford to take you to the doctor. Now I hear you have an arrow wound through your shoulder, some kind of hunting accident. Well, the other kids might buy your deer hunting story, but somehow I think you were hunting something else that night, like maybe vampires?"

"Look Stacy, keep your voice down. I thought that was our little secret?"

"Oh, so now we're friends and we keep secrets? Why are you shutting me out?"

Dean was so tired from not sleeping and perhaps his inner desire was to come clean with Stacy, maybe he'll never really understand why, but he just went ahead and said it: the truth; what had been haunting him for weeks, why he just couldn't trust his feelings about Stacy and the effect she had on him.

"Stacy, I like you a lot; too much, actually. I left my brother unprotected to take you to the carnival, even though I knew better. He could have died that night, that's what my lapse in judgment did. Sammy could have died and it would have been all my fault. I'm responsible for him, his safety is my job. I can't be with you. I can't trust myself when I'm around you. My life is too dangerous; I can't have any more complications. I'm sorry."

Stacy was speechless. His honesty was a bit overwhelming; perhaps this was too intense for her. She liked Dean but if all this was true, well, this could be too much reality even for her.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I had no idea. You know, you can be Sam's protector, but you aren't responsible for him, you can't be. You can't control everything. Sometimes bad things just happen."

"Not while I'm around. Nothing bad will happen to Sam while I'm around." Dean stated earnestly.

The first bell rang signally class was about to start. It was awkward since they both had algebra first period. Silently they walked to class.

Dean sat at the back of the class and the monotonous droning of the teacher only made his tired mind more prone to drift off. He laid his head on the desk and was out before he knew it.

The fire was following him down the stairs, hot on his back as he carried Sammy out of the house. It was overcoming him, it was consuming him, he could feel it burning his flesh, he screamed out in total agony. Mommy, Mommy, save me. Mommy, Mommy, I'm on fire, make the pain stop, make the pain stop. Mommy, save me.

Dean awoke suddenly and was embarrassed the whole class was staring at him. What was happening? His nightmare was mutating. He had never before been consumed by the fire. He felt drained by this nightmare, not just tired from not sleeping, drained as if his life energy was being siphoned off. Something strange was happening here that he didn't understand. What was causing these nightmares and the escalation of his anxiety? It felt like something was feeding off of his torment, its evil presence becoming more forceful as his own energy waned.