Title: Nightmare

Summary: Dean is having nightmares about Sam. Is he sharing some of Sam's gift or is he being attacked by something out of his control..

A/N: Hey guys. I was happy to get heaps of great reviews for my last chapter, so keep 'em coming.They inspired me into writing this chapter. I would have put it up last night but I had a few problems with my document manager. I tried to write this chapter mostly from Sam's point of view. Thought I would give it a try so let me know what you think.Anyway, read and hopefully enjoy ;)..I keep writing for you..

Disclaimer: I do not own Sam, Dean or the Supernatural story, but if I did..


Dean started awake. He was still in the passenger seat of the Impala. He was covered in a cold sweat and shaking slightly. He silently thanked whoever was listening that his eyes were relatively dry. He closed his eyes slowly and could swear that he could taste the salty sea water of his nightmare. When he opened them again he became aware of a hand squeezing firmly on his shoulder and he looked around to see Sam eyeing him nervously.

Dean dragged in a deep breath which burned his dry throat and rubbed his eyes, "I'm okay. Just a bad dream. I'm fine." He said more trying to convince himself than Sam.

Saw wasn't convinced and continued to eye his brother with concern, "Dean this is the second nightmare in a row. What's going on?"

Dean shrugged while re-composing himself. Yeah, what is going on? Wouldn't I like to know, "Carmon Electra was into you not me, that's all." He offered jokingly.

Sam smiled a little, "Yeah that would be right. Really Dean what's up?" he asked, his tone more serious.

"I'm fine Sam. I just had a bad dream. That's all." His shaking had stopped to a mild quiver in his hands and he looked out of the car for this first time to find that they were in a parking lot in some small country town. It was daylight and he guessed he had been asleep for a few hours, but it seemed like his dream had gone on a lifetime. "Where are we?" he asked reaching into the back seat for the bottle of water he always kept there.

"Bentleigh. I had to pull over when you started screaming. Dean, don't change the subject. Seriously, what's going on? You could at least tell me what the dreams were about." Sam added using his puppy dog look on his older brother. He saw Dean straighten his pose. Dean usually did that when he was uncomfortable with the situation, like he obviously was now.

"It was nothing. Just a demon. That's all." He lied. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Sam that he had just watched him die twice in a row. Dean didn't like opening up and he wasn't about to start now. Not because of a few silly dreams. At least, he hoped they were dreams.

Sam could tell that was the end of the conversation. Asking Dean again would just get him mad which would make him just shut further off, "You hungry?" he said suddenly when he heard his tummy rumble. After all, they hadn't eaten much since they left their hotel awhile ago. Well anything that a normal person would class as food. Mainly just chips and M&M's.

Dean nodded. He knew his stomach was pretty much empty, and the thought of food was making him nauseous. But if he didn't eat, Sam wouldn't eat and there was no way he was going to let that happen.

Dean smiled to himself as a hot waitress walked past. She was a tall blonde, great body and big breasts. She probably has sawdust for brains too. He watched her like a predator stalking his prey until she disappeared around the back into the kitchen. Feeling Sam's eyes on him he turned to his brother.

Sam laughed. Dean would always be the same. The same overprotective big brother, the same loyal son, the same perfect hunter. Plus the same handsome ladies man. Sam took another bite of his burger and watched Dean pick dejectedly at his fries. He had barley touched his burger and had only settled to drinking a beer. His brother had an iron stomach. He had been practically raised on fast food and food from a packet since their Mom had died. Sam had been the same but he still loved the taste of a home cooked meal. Jess used to cook for him. He smiled to himself remembering back to their one year anniversary.

He had walked in to find the room lit only by candles and the smell of a beautiful roast chicken in the oven. Jess had walked out from the kitchen to meet him with a passionate kiss. It had truly felt perfect and he remembered wanting to stay in the moment forever. The image of Jess and him enjoying their meal was ruined when a new image of Jess on the ceiling appeared across Sam's eyes. His Jess, his beautiful Jess, the love of his life, up there on the ceiling. Pain in her eyes and her stomach slashed open. Then the flames.

Sam put the last bit of his burger down and rested his head in his hands, his appetite lost.

"Sam, you okay? You look a little pale man."

Sam looked up to see his brother had abandoned his quest of playing with his food and was just sitting back and relaxing, beer in hand.

"Yeah I'm fine. You don't look so hot yourself either. Did you want me to drive the rest of the way? We only have about another four hours or so until we get there."

"And let you have all the fun? Never. And besides, that's not what that waitress thinks." He said smiling smugly waving a small piece of paper in front of Sam. Sam laughed. Dean could have no legs and no arms, and chicks would still give him their phone numbers.

"You ready?" Dean asked standing up. Sam stayed where he was so Dean sat back down hesitantly, fearing a chick flick moment may be about to happen.

"Dean. I want you to tell me what you dreamt about." Sam said in a resolved tone. He knew he was up for a fight but he could see it in his brother's eyes that he was worried. No matter how much Dean tried, Sam could still see sometimes in his brothers eyes what was going on. That and he had a bad feeling about these nightmares.

Dean shifted slightly, "I told you man. It was just a silly nightmare about a Demon. Can we drop it now." It wasn't a question, it was an order. But Sam had never been the one to follow orders.

"Dean please. Okay, look I've got a really bad feeling about this. I mean Dean, when was the last time you had a nightmare? When you were five? This isn't good man." Sam asked, his eye's locked on his brothers.

To tell the truth Dean had been feeling not good about these damned nightmares either. But then again why would he be. He set his empty beer bottle down and thought about getting another one. The alcohol, even though not much, had been settling his nerves. Knowing he was about to drive however, he decided against it. No point risking his precious baby, "I told you Sammy, it was just about a stupid Dem-" he started.

"That's a lie and you know it. You wouldn't get so freaked out about a bloody dream with a demon in it Dean!" Sam cut him off.

"It was a pretty scary mo-fo Sam. Besides I don't wanna talk about it and I really don't see how it's any of your business. Drop it." Dean retorted, anger underlying his tone and his eyes threatening. Dean stood up, threw some money on the table and limped, despite himself, out as calmly as he could, back to his Impala.

Sam decided it would be better to let his brother cool down a little, so he stayed seated at the table. Sam rubbed his temples becoming aware of an on coming headache. Great that's all I need was the last thing that went through his mind before he was plunged painfully into a vision.

He was in what he assumed to be a hotel room. The room was absolutely trashed. The walls were covered in holes which looked like they were most likely made from a fist or a foot. There were two beds, both of which had been destroyed. The sheets were torn to shreds, the pillows ripped open leaving feathers all over the floor, and the mattresses on both had been thrown off the bases. It looked like a wild animal had passed through the room in a rage. The bedside lamp had been thrown at the wall, and was shattered in pieces on the floor below where they had hit. Dean's clothes were strewn around the place here and there. Sam's bag lay untouched next to an upturned table.

Sam heard a gasp of pain and was instantly standing in the small rundown bathroom. He could see Dean sitting on the floor holding a piece of broken mirror tightly in one hand and the knife he usually slept with in the other. The broken mirror flashed into Sam's sight. It looked like someone had punched it and in the centre there was a few blood stains.

Sam looked back at Dean again and watched helpless as his big brother cut violently into his wrists with the broken piece of mirror. It was like someone had put his vision in fast forward and Sam watched his brother bleed out in a matter of seconds. The last words to cross Dean's lips were, "I'm sorry Sammy." The lights flickered and went out.


Okay so there it was! How did I do? Any comments, criticisms or you just wanna drop a line in and say 'Hi', don't hesitate to do so, I love and appreciate the feedback. Next chapter they will get there and there will be more action, but for now I'm just going through the motions. See you all soon,

Mishka xXx