Chapter Six
Dean started research on dreamwalkers as soon as he got out of school. There had to be some explanation for his immersion into this dream world. If Dad had been home, he would have consulted with him but since he was gone on his hunt it would be up to Dean to figure this out. There was no need worrying Sam with this until he knew more. He gathered together the little information he could find but had no definite leads to pursue.
He took Sammy out to eat at a local diner they had started going to. He still couldn't force himself to go back to the diner June worked at. Too many bad memories, it just wasn't the same without June to greet him at the door. They had a late dinner and when they got home, Dean couldn't stay awake. He decided to give up the fight and try sleep.
The fire burned so bright if 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, please don't die.
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.
He looked into his arms and saw baby Sammy was on fire. For an instant, Sammy's screams drowned out his own, until the full horror of the situation impacted on him. His brother's agony was the worst pain Dean could imagine. It was beyond his endurance, it was totally unbearable. He was powerless to save his brother as Sammy disintegrated to ash in his arms. His grief was consuming him like a fire, he wanted to die. He couldn't bear to go on without his brother. How could he live with this pain? He was his brother's protector and he had failed. Sammy was gone, extinguished before he had a chance to live.
Dean was alone. A black hole of loneliness beckoned him. An abyss so deep and dark that he could see no light, no hope. His deepest, darkest fear had been realized. The emptiness encompassed him until a lone voice called out to him from the deepest regions of his mind. Join your brother, he needs you. Follow him into the darkness, there is light deep within.
Dean violently thrashed in his bed throwing his bedding askew on the floor. Sweat saturated his t-shirt as the heat of his torment escalated. He was in full panic mode as he cried out for his brother. His eyes were wide open, terror filling them to the brim and pushing his tears down his cheeks to mix with his sweat.
Sam awoke to the commotion and the sound of his brother's plaintive wail. He raced to his brother's side and was appalled at the sight that confronted him. Dean's eyes were open but failed to focus on his brother as his consciousness was long gone. Sam grabbed and shook his brother but he couldn't release him from his torment. He yelled at his brother to wake up, but still his nightmare continued.
Sam raced for some holy water and threw it across his brother's chest hoping against hope that would work. Nothing. He yelled the one demonic possession exorcism spell he had memorized and still, nothing. Why wasn't Dad here?
In one last desperate act, he slapped his brother as hard as he could across his face. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the pain he felt for striking his brother. He shook Dean once more with all his might. His voice was filled with panic as he shouted at his brother.
"Dean, wake up. Please wake up. What's wrong? I need you. Please don't do this to me. I need you."
He wasn't sure what did it, but a slight glimmer of recognition flashed in Dean's eyes. Dean looked at Sam with shock and disbelief.
"Sammy, you're alive. You're alive, I watched you die. You burned in my arms. I tried to save you, but I couldn't. I watched you die." Dean trembled as he gazed intently at his brother.
"I'm OK. Dean, it's OK." Sam felt such relief that his brother was lucid again.
Dean grabbed Sam and hugged him with all his might. Sam thought his ribs were going to collapse from the pressure, but he didn't complain. It was totally out of character for his brother to be so demonstrative and it would have been humorous if the situation had not just been so dire.
Dean was reluctant to let go, it was as if he could keep his brother safe as long as he kept him wrapped in his arms. His mind was swirling from this nightmare; it was all so vivid. The voice in his head was so compelling; at once reassuring him, and then taunting him. It all seemed so real, even now with Sam wrapped in his arms; he still felt the horror of it all.
What was happening to him? He was losing control of his senses; he was unsure what was real and what was dream. What was causing this? Who was causing this? His body and mind both seemed drained. He had no energy, no fuel. He felt empty: Lost. Alone.
"Dean, what's happening? Tell me what you saw."
Dean was breathing heavily under obvious distress. He tried to calm himself by controlling his breathing: he slowly breathed in and then out. He saw the concern in Sam's eyes and he didn't want to add to his brother's worries. It took all his self-control to calmly reply to his brother.
"Sammy, it was just a nightmare. It's over. I'm OK. Don't worry about me."
Dean always told Sam that. Don't worry about me, like he was invincible or something. Sam used to believe that, but he was slowing realizing that as much as he admired his brother, and there was much to admire, his brother was barely more than a child himself. As much as he wanted to believe Dean had all the answers, he knew in his heart he was just a boy.
"Dean, please tell me what's going on?" Sam tried one more time for an answer.
"Sammy, I'm fine. Just a nightmare. Don't worry."
Dean headed for a cold shower to wash off these feelings of despair. The cool water running over his face and body helped soothe the rage that was overtaking him. His skin felt hot to his touch and he wondered if he was running a fever or whether it was just the warm flush of his unnerving dreams. Under the cool water, he momentarily felt relieved of his agitation; until he stepped out of the shower, back into the grip of this maelstrom.
He had to find a way to relieve this torment. He needed to focus his mind and he was desperate for a course of action that would lessen his anxiety. He convinced himself a run would clear his head: an influx of endorphins might ease his turmoil; nothing like a long run to refresh your mind. He put on his running shoes and headed for the front door.
"Dean, it's late, are you sure you should be going out now?" Sam's concern echoed in his voice.
"Sam, I'll be fine. I need to clear my head. You stay inside, I won't be long."
Dean headed out into the cool, brisk, night air. He immediately felt better as his long legs broke into stride. Perhaps if he ran fast enough or long enough he could leave these nightmares behind.
John called minutes after Dean left the house. Sam answered but Dad wanted to speak with Dean. He was shocked to hear he had left the house, for a run no less, this late at night.
"Why is Dean running at this time of the night? What's going on Sammy?" John demanded.
"Dad, I don't know. Dean hasn't been sleeping; he's having dreams, nightmares. He just had a really bad one and I couldn't wake him. He won't talk to me; all he said was I died. Dad you should have seen the look on his face when he realized I was alive and there with him. He wouldn't stop hugging me. These dreams are really taking a toll on him, I don't think he's gotten much sleep in the last four or five nights. They're getting more intense. Dad he looks like hell. I don't know what to do for him."
"Sam, listen to me. I need you to follow my orders, do you hear me? This is very serious. Dean is in trouble. He could hurt himself or you. Promise me you will do what I say, no matter what Dean says. Promise me."
"What Dad? What's going on?" Sam had already been worried about Dean but the tone of his dad's voice made him realize the situation might be more serious than even he had considered.
"Sam you need to keep Dean from sleeping if at all possible. More than that, you need to keep him away from all weapons or anything he could use as a weapon. Do you understand? His life could depend on this. I want you to lock him in the room in the basement. Trick him into going in and lock him in. Do you understand me? I'm leaving now. I'll be home tomorrow. Sam, I'm depending on you. Follow my orders."