Warnings: Swearing. Not as much violence this chapter.

...

Dean was on a ship. Rocking. Back and forth. He could hear the constant waves against the hull. Like a lullaby to the exhausted, it separated his mind from his body. He couldn't feel anything other than numbness which should have been disarming, but it wasn't. He welcomed it.

Someone was yelling. Frantic. The kind of scared that is contagious, raising hairs on the back of your neck for an unknown cause. I can't… What is he saying? Was it the captain? Dean tried to look out over the water for dangers but it was dark. Everything was dark. The waves shifted to tires on pavement.

"I KNOW BOBBY!..."

Sammy…

"He is burning…. Too much blood…"

Who Sam? Who needs help?

"I don't know what to do…."

Are you crying Sam? Sammy? Tell me what is going on. Why can't I open my eyes? SAMMY!

The waves crashed and crashed.

One. Two. Three.

…..

Sam's hands were shifting from a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel to almost shaking loose. His eyes, no matter how he fought, would not stop finding his half dead brother via the rearview mirror. Blood was smear all over the Impala's leather. Dripping from Dean's face. Decorating the carpet on the floor.

Sam heaved.

He had seen Dean hurt before. That wasn't it. This felt bad. The grey tinge of Dean's skin, the choking breaths. There was something black and rotting, building in threat at every passing moment. Sam could feel it. Weighing down on his shoulders. Trying to pull him under.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello!"

"Sam. What is wrong boy?"

"We… We were hunting. Dean. Dean. He's hurt. Real bad Bobby. I can't, I don't… There is something wrong!"

"Ahhhh…" Sam groaned as his subconscious fought off an oppressive weight trying desperately to reveal itself. It felt like a hand was squeezing his soul.

"Sam? Sam?!" Bobby was already rounding up the basics, keys in hand.

"What?!"

"Slow down kid. What were you fighting?"

The rumble of the Impala's engine was loud in the quiet of the night.

"A Pythonissam."

Silence…. So much so Sam got lost it. Mesmerized by the road disappearing under the Impala's grill, fast.

"Sam. Tell me boy. Did the Pythonissam die?"

Nothing.

"Sam."

Nothing. It was creeping up on him again. Sam could feel it. He ground his teeth together. Close, closer. It was big, a nightmare, not there in the flesh but coming all the same.

"SAM!"

The Impala jerked viciously to the right, tearing off the road. Sam dropped the phone as both hands gripped the wheel and struggled for control. A few tree branches and bumps plus a ditch later the Impala was once again eating pavement. Sweat was dripping from Sam's brow, his heart pounding. Dean had slid across the back seat and was bunched up on his legs on the right side of the car. His head turned away. A bloody smear left in his wake.

"Sam! SAMUEL!" Sam heard the muffled shouts and retrieved the phone from the floor without slowing down.

"I am here."

"Ya idjit. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know Bobby. That is why I called!" The distraction of nearly crashing into a forest was already wearing off. Sam was once again on the verge of an anxiety attack.

"Help me. Bobby. Help us." A few tears fell. Sam didn't understand why he was behaving in such a manner. This was unusual for him. Typically, it is take out the bad guy, Dean is hurt, patch him up, worry over his wellbeing, don't sleep for a few days, then drive away from town never to return. It didn't feel over this time though. The bitch was dead but something worse had followed them out of that clearing and it was condemning Sam to madness.

"Sam." Bobby exhaled.

"Son. Listen very carefully to me. Did the Pythonissam die?"

"A grey cloud of smoke." Bobby sighed in relief.

"What about before she died, did she say anything? Sam. Think hard."

"What? I…" Sam's brain flopped with his heart beat as the fight came back in flashes.

"I was…"

"S-a-m…" It was a faint noise. Soft and broken. Once again Bobby was forgotten as both Sam's feet drove into the brake pedal. The Impala screeched in response to the abuse as its back end nearly lifted from the road.

"Dean!" Sam fled the car. Next thing he knew Dean was in his arms.

"Dean can you hear me?" Dean's eyelids were cracked open, jaw slack, chest rising slowly. Gotta tell him. He woulda called Bobby… Bobby will know…

"Beat…" Sam let out a nervous chuckle.

"You're a little more then beat there Dean. We're gonna get you well though, don't you worry."

"Beat eum…"

"Shhh. Dean. Don't worry about it now alright." Sammy. Listen to me.

"beat eum ut vita." The phrase was barely audible. Dean went slack.

"Dean. Dean?" Sam gave his brother a light shake. But Dean's head just lulled against his chest. Then the darkness struck. Enveloping Sam and driving him to collapse over his brother in the back seat.

Sam was in a field. Were those head stones? There was a wrought iron gate to his right. The Impala was parked before him. He was looking through his own eyes but… could also see the scene from above? It was disorienting and presented too much information at once. He was yanked back and forth between the two perspectives gracelessly at a rate that would definitely result in whiplash.

The first thing Sam was aware of was the wind. Next, was the breathing.

-in body- his hand was fisted in a man's jacket. Emotion and pain vibrating from the man's chest up Sam's arm. Poor bastard must be hurt pretty bad Sam thought. He figured maybe he was trying to help the man. But when he looked up and saw it was Dean's bloody face looking back, Sam nearly gagged.

-observer- Sam then watched as he himself proceed to hit Dean. And hit him. Again. And again. Sam was screaming at himself to stop but there was no indication that his words were heard.

-in body- Sam felt Dean's nose break beneath his fist. Felt the warm blood from Dean's busted lips splatter over his hand. Sam tried to hold back the punches. To stop. But he couldn't. His body kept going and going. Sam was begging. Just begging for it to end. Then he heard Dean's words.

"I am not going to leave you…"

"Dean! No. This isn't me. Please. I am sorry." Sam screamed in his mind.

"I am not going to leave you…"

More strikes. Again, Sam was observing the scene from above. This time, after a punch landed. Dean fell, unmoving.

"NOOO!"

Sam sat up and pushed himself out of the car. Resulting in an unceremonious fall to his side. There he emptied his stomach. His head was spinning. What just happened to him? What did he just see? It felt like he was coming down off some type of seriously fucked acid trip. Everything burned.

"It wasn't a memory," he mumbled. So why would he see it? It couldn't be the future. He would never… Never. No matter what.

...

There ya have it. Chapter 2. What did you think? I got excited and wrote a part for the ending last night. The heavy hitter for this poor tale has yet to rear its head. So stay tuned! :)