Is This The Real Me? Chapter 18, a supernatural fanfic

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day. Since everyone has been so anxious for the brothers to get back together, I decided to post this chapter early as a thank you for reading my story and a treat for you. I hope you enjoy the read. Only two more chapters in this story and we'll move on to the next one that will pick up where this one leaves off. As I said in the beginning, this is a trilogy, so we have two more stories in this AU. Reviews would make my day. NC

Chapter 18

The third week at the cabin had Sam working on astral projection for a second time. He found additional articles online and studied how to do it before trying the ability again. He went out on the deck and stretched out on a lounge chair to get comfortable. He worked on calming his breathing and relaxing his body before focusing on what he needed to do. This was a part of him now, he had accepted that, and he wanted to learn these abilities. He was opening himself up to them but would always keep control over them and never let them control him.

It was hard at first, but Sam wasn't going to give up yet. He was sure he could do this. Sam finally separated his spirit from his body and let it rise above his physical one. He looked down at his lifeless form and could barely tell he was breathing. It was weird and almost freaked him out but managed to keep control. Sam raised his hand to look at it and was amazed he could kind of see through it. His reading told him that once a person had full control of this ability, they could make their spirit more corporal.

He looked around and wasn't sure what to do. He looked toward the lake and willed himself to go to the dock. In an instance, Sam was on the dock looking out across the lake. He grinned broadly with his accomplishment, before sending himself back to the deck. He steadied himself before hovering over his body and letting his spirit sink back into it. It took a few minutes for his mind and body to sync back together and he opened his eyes to stare out into the woods. Sam was tired and felt slightly drained. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes deciding to nap outside before heading in to fix dinner.

His journal was filling up with all his notes and experiences. He filled another page before sitting it aside to turn in. Sam was getting up early the next morning and going on a longer hike up into the mountains behind the cabin. It was beautiful here and he wanted to enjoy as much of it as he could before he left. He had taken a day off the day before to go into town to do laundry and have lunch out.

He had opened his mind and listened to those around him until he started hearing a jumble of voices in his head. It was confusing and gave him a headache at first, until he was able to slowly block them out one at a time. Sam continued to practice as his clothes washed and worked on putting up his wall and taking it down. He wanted to be able to do it without thinking about it. He explored the town after his laundry was done and visited a used bookstore to see if he could find any books on psychic powers. He hoped maybe to find some additional reference books to help him learn more about these powers and how to control them.

spn

Sam had one more day left on the cabin for this week and he wasn't sure what to do. He had been here for four weeks and knew he had made the right choice to come here. Should he stay longer and work on his powers more or should he contact Dean or head for Bobby's. He knew he could always count on Bobby to help when he needed it, but he wasn't sure how he would feel with Sam showing up there and learning about what he was capable of. He listed the pros and cons of his choice trying to decide what would be right. He wanted to see his brother. He missed his support and just being with him. Sometimes Sam let his mind drift to that night he left for college and wondered what his life might have been if he had made it to college. He brushed it aside knowing that wasn't in the cards for him now. He had a feeling there were more important things that he had to do now. He had these powers for a reason, besides what Azazel had planned, and was going to do good with them.

He was finishing his lunch and was putting the dishes in the sink when a piercing pain shot through his head causing him to drop to the floor on his hands and knees. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his head as he cried out in pain. His mind began to waver and shimmer before an image started taking shape. It was his father.

John was tied to an old door in a rundown house and two strangers were walking around him. His left shoulder was bleeding from some type of injury. Blood was welling up and running down the side of his face from a head wound. The female of the two stepped to him and was talking to him in a loud voice before she pulled a knife and drove it into his bicep making John cry out in pain. The male of the two laughed and dug his finger into John's shoulder making it bleed more. He pulled it out and licked the blood from it and urged the female to continue. She ripped John's shirt open and began to carve into his chest just deep enough to make it bleed so she could lick the blood from it. The male took two bowls putting one under each outstretched arm and slashed his wrists so the blood would drain into them. The life began to leave John as they continued to slash and stab him. The image grew farther away, and he hovered outside the house. The last thing it showed was a cemetery with an iron fence and the name St. Elizabeth Cemetery, Missouri.

Sam couldn't get his breath as the image of his father being killed was burned into his brain. He tried to get up from the floor but fell back down, too weak to stand. He lay there trying to calm his pounding heart and suck in mouths of much needed air so he could function. This was not a dream; he was sure of that. He was awake the whole time. It was like he was watching the scene play out in front of him, but he couldn't interfere or stop it. He knew it had to be an omen or maybe it was a vision that he had read about, and this was going to happen to his father if he didn't stop it.

After grabbing onto the counter, Sam was able to pull himself up onto shaky legs and stumble to his jacket where his cell phone was. He struggled to get it out and with trembling fingers pulled up his contact list. He found the number he wanted and tapped it, bringing the cell to his ear so he could hear. The one he called began to ring and he waited impatiently for someone to answer. When he got voicemail, Sam madly cursed, but waited for the beep, not wanting to waste any more time. He needed to leave now and head for Missouri. And he needed to get whatever help he could heading that way too.

"There better be a damn good reason you have this cell number," a gruff, male voice growled at him.

"Bobby, it's Sam, I need your help," Sam rushed out as he headed for the bedroom to throw his clothes in his duffle so he could leave.

"Sam, son, is that really you?" Bobby questioned when he recognized the voice. "Where have you been, yer brother has gone just 'bout crazy looking for you. We've all been worried about you."

"I can't explain now Bobby, just listen. Dad's in serious trouble. He's going to die if we don't get to him. He's in St. Elizabeth, Missouri, at the cemetery. I think there might be a parish or abandoned house beside it. Can you meet me there?"

"Of course, Sam. Did you call your brother?"

"I left him a voicemail." His voice deflated and dull for a moment before continuing. "Please hurry Bobby, I'm packing and will be heading that way too, but it's going to take me ten to eleven hours to get there. Maybe less if I really push it."

"I'm finishing a hunt in Wisconsin, so it may take me as long too. I'll try calling Dean and have him meet up with us. Maybe he's closer."

"Thanks Bobby, I gotta go," Sam rushed hanging up and tossing the cell on the bed. He filled his duffle and grabbed his bathroom bag before moving to the living room for his laptop. He was lucky most of the food he had bought was gone and there wasn't much to pack but a couple boxes of granola bars, some fruit, waters, peanut butter, and a fourth of a loaf of bread. He put all he could in his cooler bag and the rest in a plastic bag. There were a few things he left for the next renter and hurried outside to put his things in the back seat. He did a quick sweep of the place to be sure he had everything before heading to the office to check out.

It was just after lunch when Sam made it to the main roads and headed west. His mind was reeling with the image of his father being butchered by what he thought might be ghouls. Sam hoped that what he saw hadn't happened yet and could stop it from happening. If not, they would be recovering their father's body.

spn

A cell ringing broke through his trance, but Dean didn't bother answering it. He didn't even look at the caller id as he switched it to voicemail. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Dean had taken care of a vengeful spirit and was trying to numb his sore body with booze. He motioned for the bartender to pour another shot as he slumped forward on the bar. It had been two months since he had found out Sam was MIA. He had started looking for him as soon as he found out Sam never made it to college. He was starting to get discouraged but he couldn't give up until he knew what happened.

A couple of hunters thought they saw him on the western side of Kansas two weeks ago, but when Dean went to check it out it had been a bust. He had followed up on several other leads that amounted to squat too. Bobby had all his contacts and resources searching, but no one had found anything. He had gone by the Roadhouse and talked to Ash and all he could tell him was a ticket was bought by Sam Winchester on the night he left for college, but it was never used.

He headed for Louisiana, as a last resort, to try hoodoo and voodoo priests, but they couldn't find him, even with location spells. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. He was beginning to wonder if Sam was still alive. Had someone attacked him and killed him while he was waiting at the bus station? Did some monster sniff him out and take him, thinking it would make others fear it, if they could take out a Winchester. There were so many scenarios that could have happened he didn't know what to do or where to turn next. Every lead or hint of his brother all turned out to be nothing and the guilt was eating away at him. He should have gone to the bus station sooner and maybe, just maybe, his brother would be okay.

The bartender sat another beer and shot of Jack Daniels in front of him, eyeing him closely. He had been drinking for a while even though it was early. Dean was in a lousy mood that had not gotten better with each drink. He had to believe his brother was still alive somewhere out there and to make matters worse, he couldn't get in touch with their father during all this mess. He had two missing family members to look for and things were looking dim.

His cell ran again, and Dean pulled it out seeing Bobby's name. "Bobby, tell me you have something for me," Dean said, hope lingering in his voice.

"Why don't yer answer yer damn phone Dean. I just talked to Sam and he tried to call you," he yelled at him.

"What? You're kidding me?" he questioned and pulled his cell away from his ear to look at it. He saw a missed call and a voicemail flag.

"Dean, you there?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Where are you?"

"Lubbock, Texas. I just finished a hunt and was about to head out to come your way."

"Get your ass to St. Elizabeth, Missouri. Sam is heading there now, and I'll be on my way in thirty minutes."

"Why would Sam go there and where the hell has he been all this time? What is going on with him?"

"No time for questions. He says yer Daddy's in trouble and is going to die if we don't get there in time."

"Okay, I'm heading that way now," Dean said throwing bills on the bar and running for the door. Hearing his father could die sobered him up quickly. He punched his voicemail as he unlocked the Impala to drop into the driver's seat.

"Dean, it's Sam. I know you've got questions, but I can't explain things right now. Dad's in serious trouble. I need you to meet me at St. Elizabeth, Missouri, at a cemetery named the same. It's below Jefferson City. Dad's life depends on it. I don't know how long we have. Please Dean, hurry," his brother's voice played over his cell. Dean could hear the desperation and worry in Sam's voice and cursed himself for not answering the call. He hit redial and listened as the phone began to ring.

"Dean?" a familiar male voice asked cautiously.

Dean couldn't stop the tears from filling his eyes as he heard his brother's voice for the first time since that night when he walked out the door of the motel room to go to college. He had to clear his throat of the lump in it so he could talk.

"Sammy? Is that really you?" Dean asked as he pulled out of the town and onto an interstate to head for Missouri.

"Yeah, did you get my message? Are you on your way? When have you last talked to Dad? You've got to hurry," Sam said in one breath.

Dean could hear panic in his tone as it got higher and rushed. "Yes, I'm on my way. I haven't talked to him but once or twice since you left that night to go to college. What happened to you these past months? What makes you think Dad's in trouble?"

"I can't go into that right now. First, we need to save Dad, and then I'll explain. Meet me at St. Elizabeth, at the cemetery. I need to go so I can concentrate on driving," Sam insisted. "It's good to hear your voice Dean, I've missed you," he whispered in a softer voice that cracked at the end before disconnecting.

"You too Sammy," Dean replied as the call ended. He dropped his cell and wiped his blurry eyes so he could see. Sam was sounding very agitated and not like himself. Something must have happened to him when he went missing, but Dean had no idea what or how he would know Dad was in trouble. Had he talked to Dad in the past two months? Where had he been all this time and why didn't he try to contact him? There were too many unanswered questions for him to dwell on it and put all his focus on driving to meet Sam and Bobby. He pressed harder on the gas and felt the power of his Baby rev up as he sped down the interstate.