I sucked in a deep breath and turned around, drawing out my gun that I now carried around with me everywhere. Turning back to the door I aimed at the doorknob and shot at it, my nerves now like steel. I kicked the door down and aimed right at the thing that was now holding Dean down onto the floor, it's fingernails piercing into his face, drawing blood. The thing, turned its hideous face to me, it's eyes eightless, yellow face gnawled and uneven, one eye large and the other small and bloodshot. It's mouth sagged and revealed sharp rotten teeth. In truth, anyone would have screamed and ran away but I coldly held up my gun, pointing it at its face.
"Burn in hell." I whispered before lowering my gun to it's heart and shooting it.
The thing screeched in agony, crawling around the room in rapid speed, pausing every now and then to claw at it's face, body, drawing blood onto the floor around it and slicing off its own flesh.
Wide-eyed Dean tried to look away, his face twisted with horror, digust and relief. I kneeled down beside him. "Dean, I want you to look at it." I said quietly. I do not know what made me say it, but all I knew was that I did not want my sons to fear what they would soon encounter and handle themselves. Struggling within himself, Dean turned to the creature which continued to rip itself apart.
Then, abruptly, Dean flung himself at me, tears streaming. "D-daddy!" he sobbed, clinging to me desperately. "D-d-daddy! Make it stop! D-daddy!"
I awoke from my cold state in shock and disgust at what I had said and done. This was my five year old son. I was killing him. Squeezing Dean, I whispered, "I'm sorry, you don't have to look Dean...I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry..." I muttered, rocking back and forth slightly.
I turned to the sound of footsteps as Missouri approached the door. She simply forced a smile. "I'll help Sam to sleep. But first, we need some light in this place." She turned and headed to the blinds, opening them.
Sunlight swept through quickly into the room, almost blinding my eyes that had adjusted to the darkness. Turning to Dean who had stopped crying, I held his arms more firmly looking down at him seriously. "Dean, I want you to promise that you will never ever go against my orders. Do you understand? I don't want you to not follow my orders like that ever again. Understand? Do you understand Dean?" I said roughly, slightly shaking him.
Dean nodded his head vigorously. "I won't go against your orders daddy...never again...never..." Dean cried.
And I trusted what Dean said.
...
-3 years later after 1983-(NORMAL POV - 1986)
"Dean! Dean! Where you going?" little Sam asked as he struggled to catch up to his older brother, huffing in his attempt, his face red from running. His short plump legs could not keep up with Dean's longer and more carved out ones.
"Sammy go away!" growled Dean not bothering to slow down.
"Dean! Where you going?" Sam continued to ask, slowing down because he was tired yet not stopping.
"On a mission." Dean replied continuing to stride forward.
"From daddy?" Sam questioned.
"None of your business!" snapped Dean beginning to jog.
"Dean! Dean!" Sam called trailing behind. "Dean! I'm tired!" he cried falling far behind.
"Good. Go home." Dean shouted over his shoulder.
"Dean! Dean!" Sam wailed as he came to a stop, his brother getting further and further away...
...
Dean didn't come home until late at night and even when he finally did, all he wanted to do was bathe, eat and sleep. He was always like this after Dad had sent him on a hunting mission. Dean was only seven, but he insisted that he be treated like a ten-year old thus should have (in Dad's view) a ten-year old's job. Dad respected that and gave him, jobs like poltergeist hunting.
Sam never liked the sound of guns. He wasn't fast in learning and accepting things surrounding the supernatural like Dean was. While Dean was learning to load a gun with rock salt, Sam was learning to sing and dance, "Bunny. Bunny. Bunny. Hop. Hop. Hop. Can you do Bunny Hop, Dean? Can you, can you?" And besides, Sam hated having to hunt. So whenever there was hunting, he stayed home with a gun that Dad entrusted him with. He once tried to tell Dad that he was only three but he never listened.
So Sam decided that he wouldn't listen to Dad. He always put the gun away in the bathroom drawer (told Dean of course, who called him stupid for doing that) instead of keeping it nearby. Dad scolded him for this. Sam didn't mind. He felt closer to Dean anyway. Dean who had always looked after Sam when he was younger when Dad went hunting alone. Dean who bathed him, clothed him, fed him, tucked him into bed. Even sang him a song about dreaming a little dream when Sam admitted he was scared about the 'bogeyman'.
Yet lately, Dean had been getting more distant with all his missions squeezed in with school and having to look after Sam until 5:30pm came, which was when he went out to hunt.
"Dean..." Sam said as they both got ready for bed.
Dean simply grunted in reply.
Sam continued anyway, pushing their single beds together. Dean sighed wearily at this but did not do anything to push Sam's bed back and instead turned out his light and climbed into bed. Sam followed suit and reached forward and tapped Dean's hand continuously.
Once more, Dean sighed, "Aren't you too old for that?" he asked tiredly.
"We always do this. Please Dean." Sam pleaded.
Dean opened his hand and let Sam hold it.
"Can you sing song Dean? Sing song please? Your voice nice. I like it." Sam said.
"I'm tired Sammy. Can I sing it tomorrow?"
"I'll sing song. Dream a liddle dream of...of...what is it of Dean?"
"Me. It's Dream a little dream of me." Dean sang in perfect tune.
Sam laughed merrily, clapping his hand on their closed hands. "Sing again! Sing again! You sing pretty Dean!" he said in a bubbly way.
Dean's blood ran cold. He was having a strange feeling of deja vu. His hand twitched in Sam's.
"I won't forget that song! Sing again! Sing again!" cried Sam happily, causing Dean's ears to ring.
He could almost hear her voice say, "Make sure you don't forget that song. It'll be important to you one day...one day..."
Dean wrenched his hand out of Sam's and pushed Sam's bed roughly away.
"D-Dean?"
"Shut up and go to sleep." Dean said coldly, turning his back on Sam.
"Dean? D-Dean?"
There was no reply.
"D-Dean?"
Silence.
Sam sniffled but still Dean would not turn. "I'm sc-scared of the dark..."
Still no reply.
"I'm sorry Dean. Goodnight." Sam's little voice whispered into the night.
Dean felt a stab of guilt yet he still did not reply and continued not to face Sam. He never felt more like a jerk in his life. But he couldn't help it. Mum's voice was haunting him and Sam wasn't helping. He couldn't believe what he had come to, he simply just wanted to turn around, pull Sam's bed back and hush his little brother to sleep with mum's favourite song.
But he didn't.
Dean lay awake choosing to ignore the sniffling coming from his younger brother.
...
Dean woke up in the middle of the night. Something had woken him up yet he could not remember what. Then he heard it. A sob.
Sam was crying.
Getting up from his bed, Dean walked towards Sam's bed where he saw Sam's huddled up body. "Sammy? Sammy stop crying." Jerk, Dean told himself. You total jerk, why are you treating him like this? Dean shook his head and tried again, "Sammy, what's wrong?" Much better.
Sam turned over to look at Dean. "I-I s-saw something. I-I think I wet my bed."
"Come. You need a bath." Dean said automatically. He led Sam to the bathroom and filled the tub, urging Sam in. After that he made a move to leave and Sam almost screamed.
"D-don't leave m-me! The thing might come again!" he cried out.
"Okay, calm down." Dean muttered. "I won't leave you. Now, what did you see Sammy?" he asked calmly as if they were discussing the weather.
Sam's eyes were wide. "You can see it yourself." he replied in a small voice.
"What? What do you-" Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
The bathroom light flickered on and off and instinctively, remembering what Sam had told him, Dean grabbed the gun from the drawer beside him. He turned back to Sam who was looking behind him, eyes wide in horror just as the light went out.
"There she is." Sam whispered into the stillness of the air.
...
Well, as the sucky authoress I will try my best to complete my duty and update more faster next time... -;; sigh. So ya'll know the drill. Review kind people.
