Nightmares
By Daughter of Ipswich

General Disclaimer: I don't own 'Charmed' or 'Supernatural' or anything associated with them. I own this storyline and any original characters (which will be pointed out in each chapter).

Summary: AU Sam is being overwhelmed by his psychic abilities and Dean seeks the most powerful psychic this side of Timbuktu: Phoebe Halliwell. He just never expected to be part of a War that has been raging for years, between the Charmed Ones and the new Source. Crossover with Charmed.

Spoilers: All of Charmed, Season 1 of Supernatural

Chapter One: Contact

Dean sat on the hood of the Impala and stared at the old Victorian manor in awe. In there was Sam's last hope; in there, was the only person fit enough to help him. He looked through the car window at his brother. Sam was snoozing against the door, getting a few hours of sleep. Finally. He'd fallen asleep just as they'd crossed in San Francisco. His dreams were getting more and more restless. First, he'd started dreaming about Jess again. He would scream in his sleep and they'd actually gotten kicked out of a motel back in Jersey because he was being too damn loud. Not that Dean cared. They had to get up early anyway. It was just a few hours earlier than he'd expected. Then the dreams about the Demon had started. After them all getting out of the hospital after the car 'accident', they'd gone their separate ways again. The boys headed into New Jersey after a Poltergeist holding a family hostage (which wasn't a pleasant experience) and then Sam started to have more and more visions.

The visions he'd started having were getting detailed; extremely detailed. He would dream like he was there, in the middle of the action. And his visions weren't limited to supernatural stuff anymore either. They went from little girls being hit by a car after trying to fetch a ball to young teenage girls being raped. It was slowly driving him mad.

That drove Dean to do something while his brother wasted away. While Sammy, the boy Dean had sworn to watch out for, wasted away. Died. Because Dean was certain he was heading down that road. Sammy was going to die and Dean could do nothing about it. Except try and help him control his new abilities. Dean started to research those that might help Sam. A week after Sam had seen the first girl raped in his dreams, they traveled back to Lawrence, Kansas and saw Missouri. She was unable to help them. The sarcastic and cynical woman said that she wasn't powerful enough to even comprehend the kind of power that Sam was getting. But she could help. And she did.

-Flashback-

Sam was at the motel, sleeping off the Ibuprofen he'd taken to dull the pain in his head from the latest visions. Dean drove the Impala to Missouri's and parked out front. She was ushering out one of her patrons when he walked up the steps.

"Don't worry, Earl. She's fine at Harvard. You needn't worry," Missouri was assuring him.

"Thank you so much, Miz Missouri. You're a lifesaver," the man named Earl told her with his Southern accent that certainly didn't belong in the flat state of Kansas. Missouri patted him on the back.

"No problem, honey. Now, you come back if you need something else, you hear me?" Missouri called after him. Earl nodded, waved, and jumped into a dumpy old truck he probably got when Hendrix was still playing live shows. Dean rolled his eyes as the junker took off down the street, the good news making him happier by the second. Missouri stood in the doorway, looking forlorn. "Poor guy. First his wife is screwing the gardener, now his daughter is a lesbian with her college roommate. How much disappointment can a man suffer in a lifetime?" She looked over at Dean and reached up to wipe a mark off his cheek when she caught word of his dirty thoughts. Instead of cleaning his cheek, she slapped him upside his head. "Boy, wipe those dirty thoughts from your mind around me. It's garbage," and she led him inside, mumbling all the while. Dean rubbed his head, but obliged her. After all, he needed her.

Missouri led him into the room she did her readings in. It was the room where they'd first sat down and talked. But the only difference then was that Sam wasn't with them. Instead, he was sick and Dean desperately wanted to help. At any cost.

"Boy, have you been eating? You look too damn thin. Have a cookie," Missouri told him as she pushed a plate of chocolate chip cookies towards him. "Freshly baked." She gestured towards them like Vana White, but Dean's stomach was in too many knots to have much of an appetite. He declined, but Missouri's eyes were far too insistent. He took one and bit into it. The melting chocolate swarmed his tongue, burning him.

"How fresh are these, Missouri?" Dean asked.

"Just baked. I heard you coming a half hour ago," Missouri told him. Dean nodded knowingly and finished the cookie with three bites. She smiled at him and settled into her chair. "So, you're here about what I found out a week ago." She had called the two brothers and told them that she had someone for them to go see. But she wouldn't give any specifics over the phone. She specifically requested they come to her. Said it was part of the trip anyway.

"Yes, that's right," Dean told her. "What have you found out?"

Missouri crossed her pudgy arms over her large chest and looked at him. "I called some contacts out in Denver. Remember Daniel Elkins? Well, his son, Charlie (nice boy by the way), said that he knew someone. And I called his contact in Seattle. They said that they had met someone from a gypsy healing woman named Eve who had come across a very powerful psychic witch-"

"Wait a minute! A witch? Are they supposed to be evil?" Dean interrupted. Missouri unfolded her eyes and glared at Dean.

"Boy, you interrupt me again, I'll be after you with a spoon!" Dean cowered into his chair, suitably scolded. "Now, where was I?" Missouri asked. "Oh yes. Yes, a witch, but witches aren't all evil. This one might be angry with you for calling her that." Missouri continued. "She can help you. From what Eve tells me, she's more than capable of training a younger psychic. She and her family lives in California. San Francisco to be exact. I've got the information for you." She held out a small piece of paper containing the address, phone number, and name of the woman he was supposed to take Sam to. "Do you still want it knowing she's a witch?" Dean nodded affirmatively and took the paper from Missouri. He opened it.

'Phoebe Halliwell' had been scrawled in untidy script. Sounded old to Dean. He looked over the address and stuffed the paper into his pocket. He nodded to Missouri and stood to leave. She stopped him with a shake of her head. He glared at her, but all she did was motion to the plate of cookies. "For your brother," she told him. Dean rolled his eyes, for which Missouri slapped him -again- and picked up the biggest cookie on the plate. He cradled it in his hand and left the house just as another cutomer was walking through the door. He heard Missouri greet them warmly, and he was out.

In the car, he woke up Sam and gave him his cookie. Then, Dean started the Impala and roared away from the street, heading towards the one person that could help his brother.

Phoebe.

-End of Flashback-

"Dean?" Sam asked tiredly from the car. Dean turned around and looked his weary brother over.

"Hey, Sammy. How you doing?" Dean asked him.

"Fine...bad dreams," he admitted after Dean glared at him for lying. Dean nodded.

"Are you okay now? We're here," Dean said, pointing at the large house. Sam looked through the open window at the place where he hoped he could get some help. It was on a hill overlooking the rest of the street. As a house, it wasn't that much to be intimidated by. From what Missouri had told Dean on their numerous phone conversations, it housed one of the most powerful witches imaginable. It was hard to imagine this giant of magic walking those halls. The lawn was immaculate, the cars were all parked in a straight line in the driveway. However perfect the exterior was, it had the lived in feel. Dean liked it immediately. But his opinion didn't matter. Sam's did. "What do you think? Still want to go inside?"

Sam watched the house with open eyes. Dean couldn't even think of what he must be seeing. Those eyes had looked upon fear and devastation and anguish and might pain. They still looked upon Dean with love and respect. Sam loved his brother because Dean was his protector, his life line. He trusted him and his judgement. So he was ready for whatever lay beyond those doors. He glanced at Dean and wearily climbed out of the car. "What have we got to lose?" Sam asked his brother in a joking tone. But he knew the real answer. They had everything to lose, and that was just what they were going to lose if this didn't follow through. Sam knew one thing for certain; if he died, Dean would be breaking down Missouri's door the next day.

The two brothers made their way up to the stairs that led to the front door and climbed them one at a time. Dean helped Sam up the last few of them. His brother hadn't been eating much, so he didn't have a lot of energy or strength. They finally came to the front doors and tried to see through the stained glass. With no luck, Dean raised his fist and knocked heavily on the door three times.

"Just a minute!" someone called from within the house. It was a woman. Was it Phoebe? Dean helped Sam stand on his own. He understood that his brother's pride wouldn't let him face someone new bent over and laboring for breath. Finally, the door opened and a short woman stood there, gazing at them expectedly.

"Can I help you?" she asked. She couldn't have been more than five feet five inches tall. Her deep chestnut brown hair hung to near her waist and intelligent, compassionate brown eyes shown from her pale face. Her right eyebrow had a slight quirk in it where a scar, no doubt from childhood, prevented any brow from coming up there. Her teeth were slightly crooked, but that added to her charm. She wore a red top that hugged her curvy torso, and tattered jeans and no shoes. Dean saw a strange tattoo around her wrist, but thought nothing of it. Sam was the important thing here right now.

"Please. We're looking for Phoebe Halliwell. Are you her?" Sam asked her in a tired voice. She looked him over worriedly.

"No, sorry. I'm her older sister, Piper Halliwell. But Phoebe's inside. Is she expecting you?" Piper asked suspciously. She had seen numerous demons come to the door, pretending to be cops or postmen or delivery boys only to attack them a second later. But why they would request Phoebe specifically was a mystery to her.

"Yes, I believe she is. I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean," Sam introduced them to Piper. She nodded and glanced over her shoulder.

"Phoebe! There's someone at the door for you!" Piper called into the house. She turned back to the brothers. "Why don't you wait just a second. I'm sure she'll be right out." She closed the door on them, just in case they were demons and tried to force their way in. The door would slow them down a bit, but it might be enough time for them to form a battle plan. She went back into the kitchen and interrupted Phoebe's game of Scrabble with Paige, Henry, and Coop. "Phoebe. Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, Piper," Phoebe answered her sister. "I'll be right out. I'm trying to figure out what these letters make." She pointed at her bundle of letters and Piper looked them over.

"Womb." Piper told her. "They spell 'womb'. Now, can you got out and get your guests off my porch?" Piper asked her younger sister.

"Aha! Triple word score...that makes it forty-two! Woo-hoo, I'm in the lead!" Phoebe thrust her arms into the air and did her version of her happy dance. Coop protested before his wife hit him on the shoulder and told him to stop whining. He shut up after she planted one on him, and went to answer the door.

When she opened it, she found herself staring at some of the most attractive men she had ever seen (barring Coop, of course). The shorter one was obviously the oldest one, but he wasn't as old as she at thirty-three. He had short brown hair that jutted up at odd angles. He looked tired, far too tired to have driven all the way from Kansas. Phoebe guessed these two men must be the guys that Eve had called her about. The taller one, the youngest, had shaggy brown hair that fell over his ears and almost in his eyes. He was looked so much worse than his brother. She just wanted to take him into the kitchen and force feed him some vitamin C. He looked like he needed it.

"Are you Phoebe Halliwell?" Dean asked, his patience running out. They'd been on their porch for a good three minutes, and Sam was weakening fast. He could feel it.

"Yes, that would be me. Are you Dean and Sam Winchester?" she asked them.

"Yeah, we are. Can we come in?" Sam asked. He secretly wanted to tell her that he needed to sit down, but he wasn't about to impose on her hospitality.

"Sure thing. Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?" She asked. As soon as she settled them in the kitchen, she was going to ask Piper to whip up some sandwiches or something. She led them into the kitchen, where Coop, Paige, and Henry all sat, staring intently at their letters. Dean smirked when he saw the common household game. It sure didn't seem like Scrabble was something a powerful witch would be playing. But then again, he and Sam had seen a lot of weird shit in their year traveling together. Phoebe pulled out some chairs for them to sit, and Sam sat down with a grateful sigh. He looked like he was going to drop dead any second. He leaned against the back of it and closed his eyes. Dean hoped he wasn't going to go to sleep.

"Yes, please," Dean told her, keeping his manners. He learned a lot from Missouri, and if this woman could read is thoughts like her, he didn't want to be on the wrong end of a spoon. Phoebe went to help Piper with some sandwiches, and left the two boys with her sister, husband, and brother-in-law. Coop, meanwhile, was watching them with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry about your girlfriend," Coop told Sam. He looked at him, a puzzled expression passing over his face.

"How do you know about Jessica?" Sam asked him with a suspicious voice.

Coop wouldn't answer after getting a look from Paige and Phoebe. He wasn't going to cross his wife and reveal his own magical genes. "Just a talent. You seemed sad, and I guessed that it had to do with a girlfriend. Did you break up or something?" However, Coop knew the real truth. His girlfriend had died. She was murdered by a demon, a particularly nasty demon. Coop could see it in his heart, written on the surface.

"She died." Sam answered. He didn't want to go into it further, so he took a bite of the roast beef sandwich Phoebe handed him and stopped the flow of conversation. Coop stared at his hands and Phoebe went to rub across his broad back. Truth be told, he should have sensed that. He could sense love strongly, and if this guy loved his girlfriend, then he should have sensed her death. It would have been on the forefront of the guy's mind whenever he thought about her.

Eager to change the subject, Phoebe looked over at Sam, and asked, "When you're finished eating, would you like to talk?"

Sam looked up at her, and nodded. Through a mouthful of food, he answered, "I'd like that."

Piper snapped, "Don't talk with your mouth full."

To be continued...