Disclaimer: The Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them.
A/N: This might just be one big chick flick moment but that's the beauty of fan fiction! We're getting closer to the stuff that I'm not so sure about so I hope you'll all stick around for the ride. Thanks to everyone who has provided feedback and, as always, to Kelli who fixes my typos and encourages me along the way.
Chapter 3
Later, during two movies, Mexican food and some beer the brothers sat contently on the couch. Dean was worried about Sam but was willing to give him some time before prodding more about the dreams. He turned the television off when Sam fell asleep before the second movie ended and watched him quietly for several minutes.
"What's going on, kiddo?" he whispered, gently laying a hand on his arm. Sam muttered something and shifted, but didn't wake. Dean helped him lie down then covered him with the blanket he had used earlier before heading into the bedroom.
He glanced around the room, randomly picking things up and putting them down. He had seen the room on his other visits but it struck him only now how stark it really was. The whole apartment was functional but not particularly warm. It almost reminded Dean of all the motel rooms they'd stayed in over the years. He knew Sam didn't need a lot of material things, neither one of them did, but there was so very little of Sam in the apartment. Other than a couple of family pictures, there weren't a lot of personal items around the place. There were books everywhere but no artwork on the walls, no knick-knacks, no mementos of any kind. He was sure if he looked in the kitchen cupboards, he'd find very little in the way of dishes or food. He was suddenly aware of how hidden Sam was; even from himself.
"Sam."
He looked up from the book he was reading but he found himself alone in the room.
"Sam."
"You're not real." he said, even though he could feel her and smell her perfume.
"Sam, you have to listen to me."
Sam looked back to the book, trying to ignore the voice.
"Sam, please. Listen to me." Jessica's voice was more insistent. "You have to stop fighting."
He put the book down. "Stop fighting what, Jess? I don't understand."
"Yes you do."
"Jessica, please. I want to see you. Please tell me what you mean."
"Sam." she said, her voice sounding further away.
"Jessica?"
The ceiling above him exploded into flames.
Dean had just crawled into Sam's bed when he heard him yelling Jessica's name. He ran to the living room to find Sam awake and sitting up, his head in his hands.
"Sam?" Dean called quietly as he sat down next to him.
Sam didn't move.
"Talk to me, Sam." he said gently.
Sam looked at him with tears in his eyes. Neither brother was particularly prone to crying, but certain things could elicit tears. For Sam, one of those things was Jessica.
"Tell me."
Sam shook his head. "I can't do this, Dean, not again."
Dean watched as Sam stood on unsteady legs and walked across the room. He leaned against the wall, his forehead on the cool glass of the window. "I can't do it."
"Sam –"
Sam suddenly fell to the floor. At first Dean thought he had passed out, but then Sam put his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Dean wanted to rush to his side but he suspected this was already hard enough for Sam without Dean hovering over him. He felt too far away on the couch and slowly moved toward him, leaning against the desk. He had watched Sam deal with the nightmares about Jessica, the dreams that were actually premonitions and finally the waking visions that cause him intense physical pain. He had already wondered what was causing the dreams again but put that out of his mind, needing instead to deal with the immediate effects of what the nightmares were doing to his brother.
"Sam." he said gently. "Tell me about the dream."
When Sam didn't respond, he added. "Please."
That wasn't a word Dean used often and it caused Sam to lift his head and look at his brother. A stray tear rolled down his cheek and Dean's heart jumped into his throat. When Sam was little and something would cause him to cry, Dean had no problem wrapping him in a protective hug. He was sorely tempted to do that now, but instead stayed where he was.
Sam slowly recounted the dream, ending with seeing Jessica on the ceiling and watching her die again. His voice was low and shaky, making Dean almost struggle to hear him. He used that as an excuse to move closer and before Sam was finished with his brief story, Dean was sitting on the floor next to him.
"Why am I dreaming about her again?" Sam asked in a small voice.
"I don't know, Sam." he paused knowing he was going to have to proceed carefully. "Maybe she's telling you that it's time to move on."
Sam ignored him. "Stop fighting, she said. What am I fighting? What is she trying to tell me?"
"You know, this might just be a regular dream. Is there something going on that is making you think about her more or –"
"Our anniversary. We would have been together – God – five years soon."
"I know you loved her, Sam, and you always will but you have to move on. Maybe that's what this dream is telling you."
"You don't think it's really Jess. What about what happened at the coffee shop this morning?"
"Sam, those visions were connected to the demon that killed Jessica. That demon is gone."
"Are we sure about that?"
"Yeah, we are." Dean tried not to sound angry. This conversation was moving painfully close to the final battle; the fight in which they lost their father and Dean hadn't quite come to terms with that yet.
Sam saw his brother's jaw set. He knew he was about to hit a nerve and he backed off. The demon that killed their mother and Jessica knew exactly how to hurt the brothers the most and after the near fatal car accident, infiltrated their father's body again. It made John Winchester leave his sons, hurt and near death, in the hospital. The doctors had been amazed at John's rapid recovery, but Sam and Dean knew the truth. They chased him for a year after recovering themselves, knowing that this time one of them would have to kill John to destroy the demon. Even though the Impala had been all but destroyed when the semi truck plowed into it, they managed to recover the special Colt and the one remaining bullet. They finally caught up to the demon in their hometown; it somehow seemed appropriate that the fight end where it started.
This time Dean made sure he had the gun when the time came because he didn't want Sam to have to deal with killing their father. It had always been Dean's job to protect his brother. Sam had too much to handle as it was. He felt guilty for Jessica's death because he ignored the dreams that predicted it. He also felt that the demon killing their mother was also his fault. Dean also spent a lot of time blaming himself for Jessica dying even though Sam insisted he wasn't responsible.
The demon was holding their father and had spent a year making John do things he never would have done and keeping him just alive enough to be aware. Since Mary's death, all John wanted was to destroy the demon that robbed his boys of their mother, but he let it rule his life for too long. Somehow the boys grew up and before he knew it he realized he'd wasted their entire childhoods on vengeance.
He had been disappointed that Sam let Dean talk him out of shooting in the cabin when the demon had him the first time. Instead of offering his youngest son comfort as Sam rushed them to the nearest hospital, he berated Sam for not understanding that nothing came before killing the demon. But Sam had been right when he said that family came first. John should have known that a long time before and should have given his boys a normal life. He should have found a better way to protect them than turning them into warriors but it was too late for that now.
The demon wouldn't give up John and even after a year of trying to find another way, Dean was forced to shoot his father in the heart. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. At least until he took Sam back to school.
TBC
