Dream State
Chapter 1
By infinite shadow
Disclaimer: Nope I own absolutely nothing recognizable in the following story. But if I ever win the lottery…. As far as I know I created the motel and unrecognizable characters in my own twisted little mind. No money was made from this story, yada, yada, and I might even give the boys back when chapter four is finished. Maybe…
Author's notes: This was my first fan fiction that I wrote for Supernatural. It started in December and I'm still working on it. I'm not as happy with it as I was with Casualties, but I'm getting a little tired of looking at it and I swear the boys are getting antsy and want to move on.
There will be four chapters in the end and they are mostly written. Just tweaking them now. So share your thoughts about this, good, bad or evil.
Thanks to Lynxlan as always for her great betaing skills. Trust me when I say my unbated stories do not run smoothly. Also thanks to wingschipped for the read through as well.
Please review and let me know if I should continue….I hope you enjoy the story.
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The black Impala began to slip off the pavement and onto the gravel of the shoulder. The driver smoothly corrected the course of the car, then glanced sideways at his traveling companion. He let out a guarded sigh of relief that he hadn't been caught falling asleep at the wheel when just two days ago he'd given Sam hell about not paying attention while driving his car and missing their turn off.
"Maybe we should find a motel," Sam said quietly.
"Uh, yeah," Dean said glancing over at his brother as a vehicle passed them going the other direction lighting Sam's face. His eyes were closed and if he hadn't spoken Dean would have been sure that his brother was sleeping.
Dean rolled down his window and turned up the music hoping the cool air mixed with Metallica would keep him awake. Several miles down the road they finally came across a motel. Dean pulled in and killed the motor.
"Sam?" he asked in the darkness.
"I'm awake," came the quiet response. "You want me to check in?"
"Nah, I got it. Grab the bags," Dean said over the groan of the car door as he got out.
Sam watched his brother head towards the lobby then gave the building a once over. The motel looked like it had been here for over fifty years and even in the dark it was showing it's age. Paint was peeling from the wood, only a few of the lights for the motel sign were working and the pavement was cracked, littered with potholes.
Sam rubbed at his burning eyes. He was so tired and even Dean was showing signs of exhaustion. The last three incidents they had investigated had turned out to be nothing. They'd been driving all day trying to get to the next job, but a few roadblocks from the last summer storm had them way off course and in the middle of nowhere.
He slowly got out of the car and grabbed the bags out of the trunk. He paused with his hand resting on the open trunk door taking another good look at the motel as a shiver ran up his spine. Sam glanced up to check on Dean who was leaning on the counter talking up a pretty girl. He shook his head, lifted up the false bottom, grabbed salt and threw it into his bag. Locking the hidden compartment he glanced up in time to see Dean coming out of the motel as he closed the trunk.
"Got a date?" Sam asked when his brother was close enough to hear.
"Nope. Can you believe she turned me down?" Dean asked incredulously taking his bag from Sam.
Sam rolled his eyes as he followed his brother to their room for the night. He waited for Dean to fiddle with the key in the lock, ignoring the muttered curses and walked in behind him when the door finally opened. Dean threw his bag on the bed nearest the door as usual and pulled out the laptop. Sam touched the door handle to close it and yanked his hand back, hissing, as a chill sliced up his arm.
"Sam?" Dean said. "What is it?"
Sam looked away from his hand, to the door then over to Dean. "Nothing, just a shock."
"You sure?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam responded giving Dean a funny look as he closed the door.
"Then what's with the salt?" Dean asked pulling the cylindrical container out of his bag.
Sam looked at Dean's bag and his own then closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. "I don't know. Just a feeling."
"Another "Shining" moment or just the general creepiness of the motel kinda feeling?" Dean asked as he twirled the cylindrical container in his hand.
"It's just an old creepy motel Dean, that's all," Sam said quietly.
"Fair enough," Dean said as he put the canister on the table between the beds and dropped the subject.
Sam settled himself on his bed with his back up against the headboard and closed his eyes.
Suddenly he was running through a wooded area. The only light was from the full moon peeking through the tree boughs, the only sound coming from the cracking of dry brush under his feet, and the pounding of his heart. Sickening fear filled him as he stumbled and fell through rotting wood landing hard on his side. He could hear Dean shouting his name from far way. Sam's eyes flew open and he looked wildly around the room panting hard.
"Sam?" Dean said a little quieter gripping his brother's shoulders tightly. "You with me?"
Sam nodded and swallowed hard trying to get his breath back.
"Nightmare?" Dean prompted.
Sam nodded again not knowing how else to explain it. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard willing his heart to stop pounding. The almost painful, but reassuring, hands released his shoulders from their vice-like grip. Sam heard springs squeak slightly as his brother sat on the other bed.
"You want to talk about it?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "There's not much to tell. I was running through the woods and fell through a hole or something and hit the ground hard. Then I heard you yelling and I was back here," Sam said opening his eyes and looked over at Dean.
Dean nodded, "Well, Alice, you were mumbling something but I couldn't make it out."
"It was just another nightmare," Sam said trying to shrug off the dream and got off the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."
Sam grabbed his bag from where he'd left it on the floor and went into the bathroom. Putting the bag on the counter he got out what he needed and turned on the shower to let it warm up. He pulled off his shirt and frowned at his reflection in the mirror as he watched a dark bruise spread rapidly over his side and ribs. Then as suddenly as it appeared it was gone. He moved his hand over the unmarked skin where the bruise had just been. Sam shook his head slightly and turned away from his reflection.
He stepped into the shower sighing deeply as the water hit his skin and cascaded down his body. Turning his back to the shower head he let the spray hit his shoulders before leaning back to soak his hair.
This was the only place of refuge. The only place he had to go that was private where he could relax and not have to pretend to be fine. Closing his eyes he just stood there enjoying the sensation of the hot water on his tired body.
He'd lied to Jessica about his family, never finding the right time, way or reason to tell her about hunting. He was so afraid that if she had known who he really was she'd run screaming from the apartment they'd shared and never come back.
Seeing his mother for the first and last time in Lawrence was hard knowing that she had given up her lives just for him. His mother had died twice for him, once over his crib when he was six months old and then to save him from the poltergeist in the house in Lawrence.
Before returning home every time he closed his eyes to sleep he saw his beautiful Jess. It was never a picture of her laughing or smiling, or even a memory of something they'd enjoyed doing together. She was always on the ceiling, blood dripping from her slashed stomach with a shocked look on her face then bursting into flame and burning on the ceiling.
Returning to Kansas had changed that picture. Now he saw his Mom telling him she was sorry, bursting into flame and taking out the poltergeist in their old home.
He turned resting his hands on the wall under the shower head allowing the harsh needle like spray to hit his face. Taking a deep breath of the hot steam he willed himself to relax and blank out all thoughts. His eyes bolted open as he saw Jess on the ceiling bursting into flame. He felt sick inside because it was his fault she was gone.
His beautiful happy Jess was dead because of him. His own mother was dead because of him. The weight of their deaths was too much to bear. The tears that had been sitting just under the surface began to pour out as he lost some control. He let them fall letting the tears mix with the water.
When most of the tears were spent he pulled his head up away from the water, sure he'd heard someone calling his name. He poked his head around the shower curtain and listened. He didn't hear anything and if Dean was trying to kick him out he would have been pounding down the door.
Taking a deep breath he tried to shake off the melancholy feelings and finished up in the shower. He dried off, pulled on a pair of boxers then rubbed the steam off the mirror. Pulling his electric razor out of the bag, he turned it on and began to bring it up to his face. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the reflection in the mirror and took a step back in surprise.
"Jess?" he whispered leaning forward.
The girl in the mirror smiled back.
A pounding on the door broke his gaze from the mirror. He looked back at the mirror disappointed to see only himself looking back.
"Dude! You gonna be in there all night?" Dean yelled from the other side of the door.
"I'll be right out," Sam hollered back. He threw his razor back into the bag and opened the door allowing the steam to pour out.
"I hope you left me some hot water," Dean grumbled pushing past him and slamming the door.
Sam stared at the closed door for a moment before putting on a t-shirt. He saw the salt in his peripheral vision as he stretched out on his back and sighed heavily. Why did he have to be such a freak? Things had finally been normal in his life. He'd had a great girl he loved and was saving up for a ring. His life was going somewhere and he was going to go to a great law school. Then everything fell apart. At times he didn't know whether to laugh, scream or cry. Right now he didn't have the energy for any of it.
He glanced up at the white ceiling and stared at the yellow water marks. He wanted something normal, something substantial, a place he could call home. But all he had was an endless road with run down motels.
Sam shifted onto his side facing away from the bathroom. If his life had to be haunted why couldn't Jess haunt him? At least he could see her. Her beautiful smile could light up a room in a second. One look from her could change his dark brooding mood to a light happy one. She had been his everything. His heart ached with missing her and he'd give anything to have her back in his life. But more than anything he wished they'd never met. She'd be alive today if they hadn't.
She should be going to school with a bright future ahead of her. Instead she was lying in a grave with whatever could be recovered of her burnt body.
After six months the memory of Jess dead on their apartment ceiling was as fresh in his mind as the day it happened. The guilt rode heavy on his shoulders because he knew it was going to happen. He'd seen it in his nightmares and he'd left her to die, alone, never having any idea of what was out there. Never knowing what he'd done in his life before they'd met, before he'd escaped the family business. She was an innocent who should have never been touched by the evil in his life.
He turned over onto his stomach clutching at the pillows. Jess was gone and he couldn't just move on, he needed answers. He needed to know what killed her. But it was more than that. He needed to know why Jess had to die the same way his Mom had died. Why they both died on the ceiling above where he'd slept. Why didn't what ever it was come after him?
He needed answers and the one person who could provide them, or at least help light the way to them, could not be reached. He needed to speak to his Dad. After everything that had happened in the last six months he couldn't understand why all his Dad could do was send them text messages for jobs. He knew his Dad was never happy with him because he could never do as well as Dean did. His older brother seemed to take to all the hunting, fighting and scheming as if it were second nature to him. While he felt like he was swimming upstream in a raincoat.
Sam turned onto his back, pulled the covers around himself tightly as the room seemed to get colder. All he wanted was one night of sleep without the nightmares.
"Sam," a voice whispered.
His eyes bolted open. There she was, so close, at the end of his bed. More beautiful than he remembered.
"Jess? Jess baby, please don't leave this time," Sam quietly pleaded, his heart pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it.
"Sam I'm not going anywhere," the spirit promised.
"What are you doing here?" he asked not hearing the bathroom door open.
Dean scoffed. "Listen pal if you don't know what we're doing here then maybe it's time to throw in the towel," he said taking a step into the room only to find Sam staring at the blank motel wall. He was nodding at something Dean couldn't see.
"What are you looking at?" he asked stepping closer to the bed.
Sam's eyes never wavered from the vision. "Can't you see her? She's so beautiful."
"Who Sam? Who's here?" Dean asked.
"Jessica," he whispered her name almost reverently.
"Jessica," Dean repeated quietly, his eyes widening slightly. "No, she's not here. Sam look at me," he demanded pulling Sam's face towards his own hoping to break whatever connection was happening. "She can't be here, man. She's gone. Nothing you do will bring her back," he said gruffly.
Sam fought against Dean's grip then gave in looking at his brother. "Mom came back, maybe Jess could too," he said hope colouring his voice.
"Mom did come back, but that was different. Sam that was our home, she died there and there was a blood bond," he said reluctantly.
"Jess has a connection to me," Sam protested trying to look back to where she had stood.
Dean tightened his grip slightly. "Hey, Jess is gone and no matter how much it hurts she's not coming back. You need to focus all of that pain on the evil things we kill between here and finding Dad. Understand?" Dean said watching his brother fight back the tears.
"Yeah," he mumbled and looked away.
"Is this really Jess or part of those visions you've been having?" Dean asked letting go of Sam.
"I don't know," Sam said his body shaking slightly. "I wish I knew."
Dean watched him for a moment. "What's bouncing around in that head of yours little brother?"
"Nothing, I'm fine," he said quietly hoping his brother would drop it.
Dean bristled. "Sam you are not fine. You haven't been fine since we left Lawrence. We've been on the road for days, you've barely spoken to me and you're not sleeping again. Even when you look like you're sleeping in the car man I know you're awake," Dean said then sighed and softened his tone. "Whatever this is about you can tell me, you know that right? You need to talk about Mom, Dad, Jess, the job, anything we can talk about it."
Sam looked up at his brother. "I wish I knew what this was. It was so hard to see Mom back at the house, but for a moment it was so great to see her. I mean I've only really seen her in pictures and I actually got to talk to her before she, " Sam paused fighting back the emotions and looked down at the comforter.
"I miss Jess so much," he almost whispered and swallowed hard fighting for some control. He looked back up at his brother. "Dean this is different."
"Does this have anything to do with what you said to Missouri? That this was the beginning of something?" he asked.
"I don't know, maybe. That feeling has been getting more and more intense since we left home. It feels like something is sucking the life right out of me," Sam said.
"Look man, you need to try and sleep, ok?" Dean said then stopped at the look on Sam's face.
"Dean," Sam said as he shook his head looked away.
"Hey all I know is that this insomnia can't be good for you," Dean said over Sam's attempt at protesting. "At least try to get some sleep. Stop fighting it. Who knows, maybe after getting one night of decent sleep that feeling may go away a little."
"Really? Do you have any idea of what's in my head? Don't you know what I see when I close my eyes and try to sleep?" Sam asked harshly.
"No Sam I don't," he said quietly. "But if I had to guess I'd say Mom and Jess."
Sam looked away from Dean not able to meet his eyes.
Dean shook his head. "Their deaths were not your fault. No matter how much you're blaming yourself it is not your fault. Sammy you have to let this go before it eats you alive."
Sam nodded, not bothering to correct the nickname, gave up on the argument, and settled himself comfortably in his bed. He heard Dean move about the room for a while then get into bed. After a while he started snoring slightly, a sound Sam found a little annoying but comforting in his sleepless nights. He tossed and turned for a few hours before finally giving in and falling asleep.
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Sam became aware of standing on a grassy shoreline. He watched a light mist rise from the water which gave an eerie reflection in the moonlight as he tried to figure out where he was and how he got there. Sam heard cars passing a short distance behind him and he followed the sound up a short embankment.
He found himself across the street from the motel they'd checked into earlier that day but it looked much different. The paint wasn't peeling and all the letters in the sign were working. The motel looked new and had a warm welcoming feel.
The Impala was no where to be seen, but there was a 1946 Nash, 1940 La Fayette Slipstream, 1937 Hudson Custom Eight, and a 1946 MercurySam walked towards one and couldn't help but appreciate her beauty.
A car pulled off the road and parked a couple of stalls from where Sam was standing. The engine turned off as did the lights. Crickets filled the void as a flickering light appeared in the car slightly illuminating a young woman's face for a moment as she lit a cigarette.
Sam watched her for a moment waiting for her to get out of the car, but she didn't move from her seat behind the wheel. She stayed there smoking looking at the closed doors of the motel rooms. Sam approached the car slowly.
"Hello?" he said.
The woman in the car took no notice of him as she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. She stilled when one of the doors opened and two silhouetted figures emerged.
"We can not keep doing this. Miranda will find out," a woman said.
"Victoria, sweetheart, let me worry about my wife. I'll look after everything. Soon we will be together and we won't have to hide our love from everyone. I just need a little more time. Everything will be all right. I promise," he said leaning in and kissing her passionately.
"That bitch," Miranda hissed.
Mist began to surround Sam as the motel and car disappeared from view. He reached out to where the car had been and felt nothing as his hand moved through the mist.
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Dean slowly sat up on the bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. He looked over at his brother still sleeping soundly on the other bed. Usually he heard Sam call out in his sleep from a nightmare just before he would be scared awake, but it looked like his little brother had finally slept through the night peacefully.
He got up and started the coffee not really looking forward to another long day of driving. Dean pulled some shirts out his bag curling up his nose at the first one. "I gotta talk Sam into doing some laundry," he muttered to himself putting on semi-clean clothing. Starting up the laptop he searched the morning headlines for the job they were heading to.
The media had named it the Sandman Disappearances. At every home that a young child had disappeared a lit candle in an old fashioned candle holder with a handle was left, with a night cap next to it. A light dusting of fine sand was found on the pillows. There was no sign of struggle or signs of forced entry on the homes. No security alarms or devices had gone off. It was as if the "Sandman" had appeared in the bedrooms and disappeared with the children leaving the candle holder, night cap and sand behind as if in exchange for them.
Dean swore softly to himself. Two more children disappeared overnight. A brother and a sister. This time it looked like there had been a struggle. A small splattering of blood had been found on the boy's bed and carpet. The girls room had a few knocked over items in it. The rest of the M.O. was the same.
He looked over at Sam torn between waking him so they could get back on the road or allowing him the much needed sleep he was getting. He decided two more hours and then he would wake Sam up.
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"I gotta wake up," Sam said to himself pinching his arm as hard as he could. Nothing changed. The mist began to thicken and Sam closed his eyes tight. "I'm going to wake up. I'm going to wake up right now."
Sam opened his eyes but was still stuck in the fog. "Dean! Dean wake me up!" he shouted.
"Sam?" a voice whispered in the grayness. "Stay with me."
"Who's there? Jess?" Sam asked fear chilling him slightly as he turned to look around himself but nothing but the fog could be seen.
The voice giggled from all around him. It continued to giggle, slowly getting louder and changing into a sinister cackle.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I'm your worst nightmare come to life," a deep female voice snarled velvety.
The voice sent a chill up his spine and Sam instinctively took a step back from it. He felt the ground give under his feet and he fell.
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Dean looked up a while later as Sam mumbled something in his sleep. He seemed to settle and Dean went back to the web page noting the time. 10:24 am. He looked back at his brother as his brow furrowed a little. If Sam had gotten any sleep he was the first one up, usually having woken from a nightmare. If he wasn't, he was usually awake shortly after Dean as he was a light sleeper.
Dean got up and poured himself a second cup of coffee. He sat on his bed facing Sam.
"Dean," Sam mumbled in his sleep.
Dean put his coffee down on the night stand and lightly tapped Sam's cheek. "Ok Sleeping Beauty time to wake up," he said, but Sam did not respond.
Dean smacked him a little harder, Sam kept right on sleeping. He touched his forehead, but it did not feel like the younger man had a fever.
"Ok. Joke's over Sammy. Wake up cause we have a long way to go today and we don't have time for this," Dean said sharply. His anxiety growing with every moment Sam stayed asleep.
"You're burning daylight dude. Time to get going," he said a little louder. Again Sam slept through his efforts. Dean yelled, shook him gently, then hard, but still Sam slept. He noticed that Sam was breathing heavy and felt for his pulse surprised to find it was racing.
Dean got up convinced that he wasn't going to be able to wake him and got on the laptop. He searched anything to do with dreaming and connections with spirits, and got negligible results.
He poured over his father's journal and found nothing he could use. Unable to sit any longer he paced in front of the two beds trying to come up with some kind of explanation for what was happening. Maybe he was in contact with Jess, maybe Sam was getting the flu. Maybe his exhaustion had caught up to him and he was finally getting such a good sleep that he was too deep to wake and would come out of it on his own. Maybe his consciousness had been taken by aliens. Dean shook himself slightly. "Too much X-Files," he said to himself.
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Sam landed hard on his chest causing a small cloud of dust to rise around him. Looking up from the ground he found himself in a similar wooded area from his previous nightmare. The light was less between the boughs of the surrounding trees and his breath gave off vapour in the coldness. The quiet exploded in his ears.
"Dean!" he shouted. "Dean wake me up!"
His heart began to pound as footsteps slowly approached from behind him. Scrambling to his feet he ran full out for a while until he finally stopping by a grouping of trees. He bent over slightly resting his palms on his thighs to regain his breath. Looking around he tried to get his bearings.
"Yo dude, I'm leaving in ten with or without you. Now come on let's go!" Dean's voice called out.
Sam looked around the area but couldn't see his brother anywhere but he did spot the motel in the distance. He took off towards it, but every step took him two steps farther away. Sam stopped and stared at where the motel had been.
"Right," he said panting and looking around him. "This is a dream. The rules are different. Think Sam, think."
"Giving up so soon?" A figure asked as it appeared a couple of feet away from him like a solid shadow.
"Who are you?" Sam asked. "What do you want from me?"
"All in due time young one. All in due time," the figure murmured.
Sam sucked in his breath as the dark figure was suddenly next to him with barely an inch between them.
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Every explanation Dean came up with, plausible or not, was rejected. He stopped mid pace and stared at the night stand.
"You knew something was here, didn't you Sam?" he said quietly staring at the container of salt on the night stand. Knowing it might be the only thing he could do to protect his brother he knelt down and took a quick look where the bed met the wall. Moving to the end of Sam's bed he reached under the mattresses to the frame and pulled it out from the wall by a couple of inches. The old wheels squealed as the bed moved along the carpet.
Dean checked on Sam slightly hopeful that the noise or movement would have woken him, but he still looked sound asleep.
"Hopefully this will do the trick," Dean said as he opened the container of salt. He began pouring salt on the floor next to Sam's bed and when he was half way done Sam started murmuring and moving around slightly in his sleep. Dean poured it out faster and completed the circle of salt around his brother's bed.
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"You don't need to know who I was. You were vulnerable to my presence and it's been so long since I got to play with warm flesh," the dark shadowy figure said as it raised it's hand.
Ice cold fear sliced through Sam as he realized he couldn't move and his breathing sped up a little. The figure touched his cheek slowly running the back of it's fingers from his chin up to his temple, then up to the side of his head gripping tightly. Pain sliced through his head and Sam closed his eyes as he tried to manage the pain. If the dark figure wasn't holding him up he would have fallen to his knees.
"So young, so much anger and fear. Yes," the darkness purred as it raised it's other hand grabbing onto the side of Sam's head.
"Stop," Sam pleaded against the building pain. He clenched his teeth and tried to move away from the spirit's hold.
The dark shadowy figure began tighten it's hold on Sam's head. "Yes, oh my yes. Little Sammy has been through so much pain, and fresh pain too. Beloved Jessica," it murmured.
"Don't! Don't you say her name. You leave her alone," Sam gritted out.
The darkness laughed. "Beloved Jessica died above you just like your Mommy. Poor, poor Sammy."
"No!" Sam said and suddenly he was able to move his hands a little. He couldn't reach the spirit that held him but he could move them a few inches.
"Ohhh. Not so happy with Daddy either," it murmured as it's grip tightened causing fresh pain to slice through Sam's head.
"Stop," Sam screamed and the figure was gone. He fell to his knees cradling his head as the mist surrounded him once again.
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Sam screamed as his body jerked in the bed and his arms flailed up and covered his face.
"Sam?" Dean said quietly as he dropped the salt container.
Dean moved closer to his brother careful not to disturb the salt. He pulled Sam's arms away from his head, seeing the pained expression on his little brother's face slowly go away as he relaxed in sleep. Dean pulled the covers back up around him.
Dean grabbed his phone off the table and dialled a number. He waited for the message to finish. "Dad? It's Dean. I… I…" Dean paused cleared his throat and turned away from Sam.
"Dad something's wrong with Sam. We're stuck in the middle of nowhere staying at The Forest Road Motel. He's been having these nightmares since I got him from school. But this is different. He went to sleep last night and now I can't wake him," Dean said trying to keep his voice steady not wanting to show how afraid he was for his brother to his Dad. He could not show that weakness.
"He's mumbling stuff I can't make out. I need your help Dad because I don't know how to help him," Dean said then stopped as he ran out of time on the voicemail.
He stood there for a moment listening to the dead line, pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at the display. Frustration coursed through him as he fought the overwhelming urge to throw the phone at the wall. Once, just once, he wished his father would just pick up his phone. Sam was in danger and at this moment in time Dean didn't give a damn about the bad blood between his Dad and his brother. Right now they needed him and as usual he was unavailable.
Slowly he closed his phone and went back to the computer slamming the offensive communication device down on the table. He grabbed the EMF reader out of his bag and put one headphone in his ear leaving one ear open to hear his brother if he got into distress again.
He surfed for hours researching stories around the motel, or anything about the motel but there wasn't anything that he could remotely connect to Sam's condition. He closed the laptop and rubbed at his tired eyes trying to figure out what he was missing, the link that would help him bring his little brother back to him.
Grabbing his cell phone again he called Joshua, Caleb and Father Jim. Aside for Father Jim offering a prayer for his brother they didn't know how to help him either. He sat down wearily beside his brother and looked up at the time. His brother had been asleep for fifteen hours and wasn't showing any signs of waking any time soon.
A knock at the door pulled Dean away from his thoughts and he stared at the door stupidly.
"Maid Service," a voice said through the door.
Dean went over to it and opened it a crack. "No, that's ok. Room's fine," he said to the woman then closed the door. He called the front desk, kept the room for another day and sat on the bed opposite his brother.
"Sam I don't know if you can hear me in there. I don't know how to help you, but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere until I figure this out. All you have to do is wake up, ok geek?" he said as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe you need to follow my voice or something to be able to find your way back. OK. God knows I can talk for hours."
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"Sam," a voice whispered. "Help me."
"Go away," Sam said still holding his pounding head in his hands.
"Please help me," she repeated.
Sam cautiously raised his head and his heart almost stopped when he saw her standing before him. "You're not her. Your not my Jess," he said quietly his voice breaking over her name.
"You are right," the spirit in white said. "My name is Victoria. I wanted to present myself as someone you trusted because I need your help."
The pain reached a bearable level and Sam slowly struggled to his feet. He didn't know what hurt more, the residual pain in his head or the ache in his heart knowing that this spirit in front of him was not his Jessica. "If I help you will you release me and let me wake up?"
"I am not keeping you asleep. It is the dark one that keeps you here, just like it keeps me. If I show you where I died maybe you could find a way to free us."
Sam was quiet for a moment as he considered his options. The pain in his head lessened as he thought about his current predicament. He knew that time spent in a dream moved much faster, but was this all really just a dream? A normal dream allowed the person to wake at any point during the event. No matter what he had tried he wouldn't wake up from this nightmare. Sighing heavily he could not see any options available to him other than what the spirit in Jessica's form was asking him to do. Maybe something would come up along the way.
"Yeah, ok. Show me."
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Dean was silent as he stared down at his hands collecting his throughts. It was true he could talk for hours upon end about nothing to total strangers or any of his Dad's contacts. But this was different. This was Sam, his little brother who he was supposed to protect. Part of him wanted to spring into action, kill the evil son of a bitch that was hurting him and take away the pain he was going through. He desperately wanted the kid to wake up and tell him to shut up jerk, but he just lay there locked in slumber.
Taking a deep breath to steady his shaky nerves he started to talk.
"Speaking of geeky, I remember your first girlfriend. What was her name again?" Dean said looking up from his hands to his brother's face and grinning slightly. "Amanda? Yeah that was it. She insisted on being called Andy. She didn't like it when I pointed out that Andy was, of course, a guy's name."
Dean laughed slightly at the memory. "She insisted that Andy was her name so I insisted on calling her dude for your entire relationship. Man you should have seen your face, in fact I could have sworn a couple of times steam was coming out of your ears like some freakin' cartoon character. You hated that I did that, not that I did that for long. Other than the name thing she was a nice girl, I wish we didn't have to move so soon after you two started dating. You know she was the only one I didn't mind playing chauffeur to when Dad let you date at fifteen."
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Sam followed the spirit in Jessica's image through the woods. Somehow walking with her made the place less scary and not so intimidating. He and the real Jessica had gone hiking a few times while at school. They were always home at the end of the day as they both hated camping.
"So why are you stuck here?" Sam asked.
"I was killed here and the darkness followed soon after. I've been running from it ever since," she said softly.
"The dark figure you saved me from?" Sam asked.
"Yes, but I did not save you from it. Something must have threatened it's hold on you right at that moment. I cannot protect you from it, as I cannot protect myself. I have learned to hide to stay out of it's angry path," she said.
Sam nodded. "Do you remember what happened, who or what caused your death?"
"I was killed near here out of jealousy," she said sadly.
"I'm sorry," Sam murmured.
"Yes, so was I," Jess said as she stopped walking and looked at him. "Why do you want to know what happened?"
"It might help me figure out the way to free you," he said trying not to look at her.
The spirit was quiet for a moment. "All right Sam Winchester I shall show you what happened," she said suddenly right in front of him and touching his head making Sam flinch and tense up. "You will feel some discomfort but I will not hurt you like the darkness did."
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Dean sighed slightly and got up from his chair and went to the coffee maker. Pouring a fresh cup of coffee he retook his seat on his bed. He took a sip of his coffee trying to think of what else to talk about. All he could think about was what if this didn't work, what if he lost his little brother to this… this… Dean shook his head. He didn't even know what this was that had Sam.
Dean was a man of action, not the one who was good with words. Sure he could charm the ladies when he wanted to, he could talk circles around anyone when he needed something, but this was different. He felt the serious urge to kill something evil, whatever was hurting his brother would do just fine. He'd kill it ten ways from Sunday when he figured out what it was and he'd enjoy every last second of it too. For the moment he settled for clearing his throat.
"Do you remember when you were nine? You were so frustrated at being left in the motel room when Dad and I went off to hunt. You were so eager to join in the hunt, and Dad said no when you asked him. You were jealous when you figured out that by the time I was eight I was helping him with the research and cleaning weapons. So I got Dad to agree to teach you how to clean the arsenal," Dean paused and snickered slightly. "I so hated that chore of cleaning the guns and the knives and then having to do the laundry. I was actually relieved that I had a little less to do.
Dean sobered sharply. "That is until you almost shot yourself while cleaning my gun, then I taught you how to do laundry. Yes that's right. In the Winchester household you learn how to clean and load munitions before you learn how to separate your whites from your colours," Dean said as he shook his head and took another sip of coffee. "I almost had a heart attack that day. It was the first time that I specifically put you into danger, unintentionally. You could've died and it would've been my fault.
"What you don't know is later that night I stayed up after you went to sleep. Dad was ready to agree to take you hunting with us. But I talked him out of it. I almost lost you that day and I wasn't ready for you to have to handle all the darkness that went along with hunting," he said quietly. "I think that night scared Dad too cause he outlasted you for quite some time when you whined, begged and pleaded to be allowed to come with us. When he finally caved I let you down in the field.
"We were thinking it was a werewolf cause of the lunar cycle. But it turned out to be the first known Berserker in North America," Dean paused and shook his head sighing heavily. "I thought I'd lost everything in that one night. By the time that night was over I never wanted to hunt again. I didn't think you were ready to hunt, you were too young, too naive to know the danger of what was out there. But there was no talking Dad out of it and you were so excited that you were old enough to join us. Twelve years old with so much innocence in you that I never had."
Dean paused with a far away look in his eyes. "I wanted you to keep that innocence. Mine was gone when I was four and Mom was killed. But even after all the research you had done for us, all the training you learned and first aid you had performed on Dad and I you were still so innocent. In all the ways that mattered. You still believed that some of the world was good and I wanted you to keep that belief. But you begged Dad to let you come along, and even though Dad had his doubts he let you come. It's not that he didn't trust your abilities, not at all. You had all the skills pretty much mastered. I think he too wanted to keep some of that innocence in you which is why he never pushed you to come with us, just pushed you to research. That we agreed on.
"He was scared that night Sammy. You were always the youngest, the baby of the family. Dad was afraid that something would go wrong and you'd get hurt. It was the first time ever that he'd given me an address to go to if we needed help and he wasn't able to get it for us. After all the hunts we'd been on he'd never done that just for me," Dean said then looked back at his baby brother. "You know I didn't mind? I was relieved there was somewhere for us to go if things went bad and I couldn't handle it. It didn't even occur to me to be upset that he'd never done that just for me. I guess I just thought he believed I could handle whatever came my way on my own before that."
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A flash of brightness encompassed Sam and he was standing by a car waving watching another drive away and out of sight. He heard a noise and turned coming face to face with a woman with a knife in her hand. The woman stepped forward pinning him against the car.
"He does not belong to you Victoria, he belongs to me," she snarled at him holding up her hand showing a wedding ring that reflected the motel light. "You will pay for what you have done," she said as she slowly raised the knife.
"No Miranda, you don't understand."
A semi drove past the motel startling the woman with the knife. Sam pushed her back and ran past the motel into the woods. The other woman following close behind. He was not a fast runner in the memory and the other woman closed the gap a few moments after they ran into the woods. He screamed as the knife sliced painfully down his back and he fell.
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Suddenly Sam arched up off the bed violently screaming and thrashed around flipping onto his stomach. The sheets pulled back a bit as Dean leapt to his feet.
"Sammy?" he cried his eyes widening in horror as he saw dark crimson liquid soaking into the sheets. He yanked the wet sheets back all the way and saw Sam's t-shirt ripped and swimming in blood. Pulling back the ruined material he saw a deep gash beside Sam's spine gushing blood down his back pooling by his sides. Dean ran into the bathroom for towels to stop the bleeding, but when he returned the blood was gone and the sheets showed no signs of it ever being there. He reached out a shaking hand touching his brother's back just to be sure Sam was fine.
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Sam was pulled onto his back by the knife wielding woman. The pain from his wound intensified as small rocks and other things from the forest floor were ground into it. She knelt over him holding the bloody knife to his throat.
"This is so much better. No chance of witnesses," she said quietly.
Sam grabbed the hand with the knife wincing as it broke the skin. They struggled and he managed to buck her off making Miranda hit her head on a tree stump stunning her momentarily. He scrambled to his feet and ran further into the woods. Suddenly the ground gave way beneath him and he fell down a dark hole hitting the ground hard on some sharp rocks. He heard snapping sounds and knew that he had broken a rib or two. He let out a pain filled groan.
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Dean's knees threatened to give way at the sudden change in his little brother. Sitting down beside Sam he dropped the towels on the floor beside the bed. He took a deep breath pushing away the fear and panic that had his heart racing and his body shaking. Sam groaned and curled a little on his side towards Dean as his whole body seemed to flinch.
Dean looked down over his brother. "Sammy? Can you hear me in there?" He asked softly.
He didn't get a response, but he really wasn't expecting one. Taking notice of his brother's current uncomfortable position he gently moved his brother on to his back, knowing it was how he usually slept.
Dean brushed the long hair out of Sam's eyes and smiled slightly. "Well now's my chance. You know I keep telling you that long hair is for girls and that you should get your hair cut. I still have those shears in the trunk of the Impala. Maybe I should give you a trim while the getting's good, huh?"
Dean sighed quietly and ran his hand through his brothers hair again. He wasn't sure if he was doing it to calm his little brother or himself. "When you were little you used to like it when I did this. Always had a calming effect on you, especially after one of your nightmares."
He pulled his hand back and let it rest on his brother's arm. Hoping that the contact would let his brother know wherever he was that his older brother was still there keeping vigil. Dean didn't move from his brother's side for quite some time.
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Jessica appeared beside him. "I lay here in the dark for the rest of that night and the next day alone knowing that I was dying. The next day she appeared with the body of her dead husband, my lover. She dropped him down here and eventually I died but I could never leave. Later the other spirit, the dark one, appeared and it continues to chase me."
"Yes and you always return here," the dark one hissed at her disgusted.
Jessica raised her hands and the darkness moved back a bit as if it had been physically struck. It came forward at Jess and encompassed her. There were screams of pain and howls of anger from both entities. They suddenly disappeared.
Sam struggled to his feet. "I gotta get some control here," he muttered to himself. He listened hard for his brother, concentrating on the motel room and what it looked like. He thought about Dean working on the laptop searching out their jobs. Hoping that somehow thinking about his older brother would lead his wandering consciousness back to his body.
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"We never really talked about what happened after Mom died. We only ever talked about what killed her," Dean said his voice wavering. He cleared his throat.
"Dad was a mess, but he took good care of us. I didn't want to talk much. Well, not like Lucas, I'd answer dad when he asked me questions. Usually one word answers. He'd try to get me to play catch or play with some toys. You'd never had known to look at him when he was with us that he was missing Mom too," Dean stopped for a moment.
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The brightness surrounded him and he could hear Dean talking. As he listened he realized there was a slight waiver in Dean's voice every so often. His brother was scared. The thought unnerved Sam slightly. Dean hardly ever revealed the chinks in is armour, he was almost always a guarded brick wall. He was no Superman, but aside from his father, Dean was the strongest person he knew.
Sam realized that he had no idea how long he'd been asleep or even if Dean could wake him. Could not waking up scare Dean that much? Sam closed his eyes, decided which direction his brother's voice was coming from and started following it in the brightness.
Eventually trees and vegetation beginning to show through the brightness. He thought he could just make out the motel in the far distance.
"Come on man keep talking," he murmured.
"Please don't leave me," Jessica pleaded appearing in front of him.
"I can't help you from here. I need to wake up and find your grave so I can release your spirit," he said quietly.
The spirit lingered for a moment tears slowly making their way down her face. He wanted to gently wipe them away and hold her in his arms until her pain went away. The small sane piece of his brain kicked in like a broken record - Not my Jess. Not my Jess.
"I can help you reach your brother," she said reaching out and touching his arm.
A moment later he was standing outside the motel. The white spirit was gone. He could hear Dean talking inside.
Sam reached out for the door handle and watched his hand move through the metal. "Right. Dream rules."
He closed his eyes and took a large step through the door. Sam opened one eye slightly making sure he was in the room then opened both eyes fully. Looking around he saw the laptop on a web page about dreams and their Dad's journal was open with the E.M.F. reader beside it.
Sam watched as Dean drained the last of his coffee and put the cup on the nightstand. He went over to where Dean sat.
"Dean I'm here," he said but his brother didn't hear him. "Dean," Sam shouted hoping his sleeping body would react somehow, but his face didn't even flicker in sleep.
Sam couldn't help but look at himself while he slept for a second before he was a little freaked out. He reached out to grab Dean's shoulder but his hand went right through his brother. "This is too weird," he muttered looking at his hand. He sat on the floor facing Dean listening to him talk.
"You know after you were born Mom never kept me away. She was so cool. I wish you'd had the chance to know her. She said that I was responsible for you too. If something ever happened to her or Dad it would be up to me to watch over you and protect you. She showed me how to hold you properly and how to feed you," Dean paused again clearing his throat.
"The night she, she died Dad grabbed you out of your crib and gave you to me. We got outside and spent several hours sitting on the hood of the car. I kept expecting Mom to walk out of the house," Dean stopped swallowing hard.
"When the fire was out Dad left you with me and this lame cop and went to speak to some of the firemen and officers that were there. When he was done he took you from me and said we were leaving. He started to put you into the car seat and I headed back for the house 'cause there was no way we were going to leave Mom behind with the burnt house. I stopped when they came out with this long black bag," Dean stopped his face drawn and pale. He shook himself taking a deep breath and sat up.
"Dad picked me up and I tried to fight him. I had to get back into the house to get Mom. He just held me real tight until I stopped squirming and he whispered 'She's gone Dean'. I didn't understand where she could have gone. I could see you in the car seat a few steps away asleep in your car seat. I was so tired that I put my head down on his shoulder. I remember feeling safe for the first time that night." He stopped and wiped at his eyes looking annoyed with himself.
"All I could figure was that something took her from your room and you might have been next. Dad got us a motel room that night and I wouldn't let go of him. I slept curled up against him while he watched TV. The next day he found us this small apartment that we stayed in for a while. You and I were in the same room and I was scared that the place would burn too. The first night we were there I couldn't sleep so I got up to find Dad. He was asleep in front of the TV with an empty bottle in his lap. At that moment I remembered what Mom had said to me about watching over you and protecting you. I went back to our room, jumping at every noise, and watched you sleep. After a while I could hardly keep my eyes open. So I climbed into the crib with you and put an arm around you. Figured that would be enough to protect you while I slept. I did that for a long time," Dean yawned and sniffed a little. "Man you gotta wake up Sam."
Sam watched as Dean fought off sleep. His dead dipped up and down and finally stayed down as he lost the battle. Sam looked down at his own sleeping body trying to figure out how to get back. He did the only logical thing he could come up with and laid down on the bed into his sleeping body. A few moments later he sat back up and stepped away from the bed.
Suddenly the darkness was in front of him. "So predictable," it tisked at him reaching out.
"NO!" A voice yelled just outside of Sam's vision. He tensed as he realized it was Jessica's voice.
Sam flew back and hit the wall hard, a few feet off the floor pinned there by the darkness.
"You," seethed the darkness as it's form began to change into a woman's figure.
"That's right," Jessica said as she began to change as well. Both spirits were now in their original form.
"Victoria you were always predictable," the darkness said and held out her arm. Victoria screamed in pain.
"Don't hurt her," Sam yelled.
Miranda smiled back at him increasing the pressure on Sam making it harder to breath. He could hear himself begin to wheeze in the bed.
The darkness turned her attention back to Victoria. "I will deal with you later," she snarled and Victoria was gone.
"Where'd she go?" Sam managed to rasp out.
"Far away. We need a little one on one time pet," she purred at him stepping closer.
She let up on the pressure and Sam fell to the floor. Before he could get to his feet she threw him against the other wall slamming him hard, then up to the ceiling. "Like the view from up there, I'm sure your mother and Jessica enjoyed it as well."
The spirit let go and let him fall allowing him to struggle to his knees and wrapped her hands around his head. Sam screamed as his head felt like it was assaulted by millions of tiny pins. His body in the bed let out a scream as well and Dean was on his feet almost before he woke up.
"Sam!"
The darkness purred in pleasure. "So good, so much anger in one so young over mother, father and beloved."
The spirit backed away from Sam letting him fall back to the floor cradling his head.
Sam could hear Dean trying to wake him in the background. "Dean wake me up," he moaned. "Please Dean."
The spirit was quiet as it changed it's form from it's original state to Mary's form. It raised it's hands and suddenly Sam flew backwards slamming hard into the motel wall.
The room around Sam changed into the Winchester home. He was back in the kitchen held up against the cupboards just like when the poltergeist held him there.
"Sam," Mary said.
He swallowed. "You aren't her," he whispered.
"Of course I am," she said shaking her head. "You were the smart one Sam. Dean would follow his delusional father to the end of the world and back. But you got out, you had a chance at a real life, you had a future. I was so proud of you when you accepted that scholarship to university. Then you threw it all away in one night. You're just as disappointing as Dean."
She stepped away from him then turned, looked up at the ceiling and back at Sam. "I died for you twice Sammy. Once above your crib and once to save you from the poltergeist. I did this to protect you and you're still hunting. I am not strong enough to save you any more," she said looking up towards the ceiling again and screamed as she exploded into a thousand little pieces.
"No!" Sam screamed.
The room shimmered and disappeared. Sam found himself standing on an empty lane of highway beside the Impala. No cars or people could be seen. It was just him and Dean. His brother was leaning up against the driver's side door, his hands jammed in his pockets of his leather jacket.
"I knew you weren't able to handle this. I don't know what I was thinking coming to you of all people for help," Dean said his anger simmering just below the surface.
"Do you even care that Mom died protecting you? Dad spent years protecting us and giving us the tools to be safe and protect others," Dean said quietly looking down the road away from Sam squinting in the sun.
He looked back pinning Sam with an angry stare. "All little Sammy can do is think of himself. You did nothing but bitch when Dad was training us. Then you took off to university. Now you come along with me reluctantly sulking about Jess and moaning about finding Dad."
Sam shook his head. "You're not real. Dean wouldn't talk to me like this."
"Open your eyes freak show. I'm not one of your weirdo visions!" Dean yelled then stopped himself. "You know Dad was right about you. You are nothing but a spoiled disappointing screw-up."
Dean reached into the car and threw Sam's bag at him. "I am so done with you. Stop looking for Dad he doesn't want you either."
Dean got into the car and Sam rushed up to the driver's side door. "No! Dean wait!"
Dean gunned the motor and peeled away leaving Sam coughing in the dust.
The image shimmered again and Sam looked around himself as the empty highway disappeared and was replaced with a wide open area. He was standing on grass and it was sunny and warm. Birds were chirping and playing in the trees. The breeze caressed his skin and moved through his hair. Sam closed his eyes and took refuge in the sensation for a moment. He opened his eyes seeing the headstones for the first time and knew where he was.
He walked on the manicured lawn approaching a figure dressed in white sitting in front of a tombstone. Sam did not want to do this. He didn't think his heart would take Jessica hating him because he never could stand it when she was mad at him when she was alive.
He looked down as he started waking towards her. All too soon he was near enough to see she was holding his flowers watching him approach while she knelt by her grave.
"You remembered about the roses," she said looking at them, gently placing them back in front of her gravestone and stood up. "You killed me Sam."
Sam shook his head. "No. No I love you," he said fighting back the tears.
"We talked about not keeping secrets from each other, but you kept the biggest secret of them all. My life was in danger by just being with you."
"I just wanted a normal life," Sam protested weakly. "I thought that if I had told you the truth about my family, about hunting, that you wouldn't believe me. You would have seen me as some kind of freak and leave me. I needed you Jess."
"You needed me? I needed to live. And what do you consider a normal life anyway? Your mother died above you on the ceiling, your father spent years training you to be this super weapon against evil, and then I die from what ever killed your mother. Real normal Sam."
Sam shook his head. "Jess, baby, please."
"You knew what was coming and you left. Why Sam? Why didn't you stop it? Why didn't you protect me? Why did you have to let me die all alone? You promised me that everything was going to be ok," Jess said tears streaming down her face.
Sam closed his eyes shaking his head. "This isn't real. This isn't real!"
"Oh it's very real," a deep voice growled.
"Dad?" Sam said opening his eyes to find that Jess and the graveyard were gone. He was back in the motel room with Dean and his Dad. They stood in front of him and Sam was sure that his Dad hadn't looked this angry the night he left for Stanford.
"Who else would be having to continually save your ass!" John yelled.
The motel room looked like it had doubled in size. Dean, the real one, was in the back ground still keeping vigil over Sam, still talking.
"Dad we're wasting our time here," dream Dean said standing just behind his Dad.
John smiled a little. "You know son," he said as he put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I think you're right."
"This won't work. I know you're not real," Sam said quietly. "None of this is real!" he shouted.
"Really?" John said quietly. "Look down at your hands Sam."
Sam looked down feeling a sticky dampness on his hands. He brought them up, palm side up and discovered they were coated in blood. He watched as the red liquid dripped off his hands and pooled on the floor.
"That's right," John said a little quieter. "Their blood is on your hands," he said waving an arm at the mass of spirits that began to appear around them. "These are all the people Dean and I couldn't get to while you were at university."
Sam looked over seeing Jessica stepping out from the crowd.
His heart squeezed in his chest. "No! No! This isn't real!" Sam yelled looking at the red stain on his hands and fell to his knees.
"How could you be so weak. How could I ever think you would be able to handle this?" John sneered down at his son. Then walked away with Dean disappearing into the crowd of people closing in around Sam.
"Stop please!" he whispered pain wracking his body. "Please stop."
"You will stop hurting him," Victoria demanded.
Miranda sighed dramatically. "I was just getting started," she whined as she tightened her grip on Sam.
Sam gritted his teeth against the pain.
"You will let him go," Victoria said forcefully as she raised her hands.
Miranda and Sam were hit by a burst of energy. Miranda threw Sam aside making him bounce off the wall. Miranda and Victoria began to fight, each moving slightly with energy hits that could not be seen.
Sam looked up from where he lay on the floor and saw Miranda intent on fighting Victoria. He closed his eyes concentrating on the only thing he knew would protect him. A container appeared by his hand and he quickly encircled himself in salt, putting some on himself for good measure.
The darkness turned abruptly back to him and shrieked. "NO! You have too much to pay for!" It tried to reach into the circle and howled in pain. The crowd of spirits disappeared.
Sam looked over to Victoria the white spirit who nodded at him. "You will be safe until someone can lead you home," she said to him. "Please do not forget your promise."
"I won't," Sam said and Victoria disappeared.
"No naïve," the darkness murmured. "There are other ways."
Spirits began to appear before Sam. Jess and his mother looking just like they were when they died on the ceiling, tears falling down their cheeks. His father screaming at him to be tougher like Dean. When Sam turned away from them others would appear. Everywhere he looked he saw anger, mistrust, sadness and pain all because of him.
He looked beyond them trying to focus on Dean and the living world. His brother was still keeping vigil over him, still talking. Sam tried to move beyond the pain in his head trying to focus on what Dean was saying.
The voices got louder and louder eventually drowning out Dean with the noise. Sam sat down in the circle of salt wrapping his arms around his knees. He looked up at Jessica who stood in front of him, closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his knees wishing for his nightmare to end.
To Be Continued…..
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12/7/2006