A/N: Warning-the beginning of this chapter describes the night that Dean died from Mary's POV. The next couple of chapters will be some intense angsty fighting between Sam and his parents. John is more involved after this chapter.

1983

Mary woke a split second before she heard it. Dean's ear-splitting scream coming from down the hall. John, who was sleeping beside her, was still stirring when she jumped out of bed and ran. Dean had woken up crying before, from nightmares, but this was different. This wasn't a sleepy, dreamlike crying. Dean was terrified and, from the sound of it, in pain. She first checked his room, but he wasn't in there. She then went to Sammy's room, where she found a content Sam cooing up at her.

"Hey, buddy. You okay?"

Just when she started to think that she was hearing things, something dripped from the ceiling onto the pillow next to Sam. She had just realized it was blood when she looked up. To the image that would remain burned in her brain for the rest of her life.

Dean.

It would take months before she could fully process what she'd seen. Dean was bleeding, mouthing something, already close to being gone. The second after she'd seen him, the fire erupted. Mary screamed for Dean, trying to find a way to get to him and help him, but John was slightly faster. He grabbed Sammy out of the crib and handed him to Mary.

"Mary! It's too late! Dean's gone!"

"No…"

"Mary! You have to get Sam out of here! GO! Now!"

Mary had woken out of that dream to John worried about her. When she'd told him that it was the same one she'd had countless times before, they both knew what they had to do. Sam reacted just the way Mary had predicted.

"No way!"

Mary moved through the house, picking up the odds and ends that they were going to need, biting her tongue to keep her patience in check. She'd known that telling Sam they were moving again wouldn't go over well, and she was right.

"Sammy, we don't have time for this right now. Get your bag and get in the car."

"NO!" Sam was close to hysterical. "No. You promised me, Mom. One year. One year with no moving."

Mary stopped what she was doing and took a close look at Sam for the first time since he'd gotten home. The hurt and disappointment nearly made her forget the move. But they had to go.

"Mom, please. You promised. It's only been six weeks."

"I know. Sammy, I know I did, and I'm so sorry. I honestly thought this place was safe enough to stay for a while. But it's not."

"So, again, you guys are breaking your word to me."

Mary balled her fists at her sides and took a long, deep breath. "Sammy, listen to me. We cannot have this fight right now. It's too dangerous. When we get in the car and get away, you can yell, scream, argue, whatever you want. But right now, you need to get your bag and get in the car because, and I'm sorry for this, we are leaving. Now. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not leaving." Sam said with a shaky voice. "You can't keep doing this to me."

"Sam." Sam turned and saw his father standing in the doorway, looking just as regretful but much less patient than his mother. "Listen to your mother and get your stuff in the car."

"Dad…"

"Now, Sam. I ask you again, you're not gonna like what happens."

Sam wanted to fight more, but he knew it was useless. Without looking at either parent, he grabbed his already packed duffle bag off the floor and headed for the car. He threw the bag in the backseat of the car and climbed inside, slamming the door behind him. John and Mary watched as Sam put his seatbelt on then crossed his arms and glared at nothing in particular.

"Do you think I'm overreacting?" Mary asked.

"No. Every time you've had that dream, we've gotten a call and a lead on the demon. We have to go."

"How about if one of us…"

"No. We tried one of us staying here with Sam, obviously it didn't work. We're safer when we stay together."

"I know. I just…"

"Hey." John took Mary's hand in his own and placed the other hand behind her head, something that always calmed her nerves when she worried about Sam. "Sam will be fine. He'll be upset for a little while, but I promise he'll be okay."

"You really think so? He had his heart set on this place. He was so happy when we told him he could stay."

"I know. I know he was. He deserves that, but we just can't do it now. It's too dangerous."

"I know." Mary said. "I know. I do."

"We will give him a home. It will happen." John said. "You have to believe that."

"I do. I just wish I could get him to believe it."

Sam snuck glances at his parents talking inside and felt sick to his stomach. He'd never admit it, but he was jealous of them. He wished he had their ability to just pick up and leave a place without getting attached to anyone. He'd had a feeling two months earlier when Mary had told him they'd be staying in one place that it was too good to be true. But he'd been stupid enough, at least in his mind, to think it was, and he'd allowed himself to make friends and get comfortable at school. He could tell that John wasn't happy with it, but Sam didn't care.

Another thought crossed his mind. Sam had a girlfriend here. He'd met Abby the first day of school, and she'd helped him get used to life at his new school. She'd grown up in this town from the day she was born, and knew all the cool places to hang out, all the nooks and crannies of the small town they lived in. Sam hadn't told his parents about Abby, choosing to hang out with her when they were off on a case or resting up from a case. He knew it was stupid, at twelve years old, to think that he was really in love with Abby. But he was. And now, he was leaving her. It hurt.

John and Mary climbed into the car, laughing about something, pissing Sam off even more. John went to start the car, but Mary placed a hand on his arm to stop him. She turned towards Sam and apologized again.

"Sam, we're sorry for this. We really are. We never should've promised you we could stay here when we weren't sure. And I promise we wouldn't leave unless it was absolutely necessary. Okay?"

"Okay." Sam said quietly. He really wanted to ignore his mother, give her the silent treatment, but that was the quickest way to ensure his father's wrath on him.

"We're gonna drive most of the day and stop tonight. If there's something you want to stop and see, let us know and we'll stop. Okay?"

"What I want doesn't seem to matter at all, so why would I say anything?" Sam asked bitterly, cursing himself for the tears that were falling against his will.

John, whose patience was short and temper was about to explode, snapped. "Samuel, that's enough."

"John, it's okay." Mary said. "Sam, please just trust…"

Sam scoffed. "Trust you? Please don't ask me to trust you. Not now."

"Fair enough. I meant what I said, though. If you want to stop somewhere, let us know."

John started the car and headed off towards their next destination. No one spoke, Sam in the back brooding, John focused on getting to where they were going, and Mary hoping that she hadn't lost Sam's trust in her forever. This is going to be the longest car ride of our lives, Mary thought to herself.