Thought I'd put this up a little early for you guys to get your teeth into. Judging from the response on chapter 6, I'm gonna assume that the alerts aren't working very well. Fingers crossed for chapter 7 eh..?

Bit of an intense chapter coming up, it'll earn its T rating now.

(Chuckles evilly) Enjoy….

Chapter 7- Fury

Sam Winchester's hazel eyes flickered open slowly. His hand gently went to his throbbing head. He felt like he'd been bashed around the head by a crow bar. His eyes ached when open, but he stubbornly pushed himself slowly, awkwardly, into a sitting position on the sofa. His entire body felt stiff.

Maybe I'm coming down with the flu… Sam thought as his arm wobbled under his weight, and gave out, his body crashing back onto the sofa, his face lightly hitting the cushions again.

If it was the flu that Sam believed he was coming down with, it was the most bizarre flu he'd ever had in his entire life. He was feeling almost lifeless, weak; worse than when he'd actually come out his coma.

Taking in a deep ragged breath, he forced himself again into a sitting position and this time made sure gravity wouldn't pull him back down. Slumping down in his seat, his head bobbling around on his shoulders like a heavy bowling ball, he struggled to look at the clock on the wall in front of him.

It had just gone 9pm.

He'd been out for over two hours.

Sam felt his skin grow cold instantly, that wasn't normal at all.

He needed a drink, something, anything, to snap him out of the way he was feeling.

The beach house was deserted, eerily silent as the dark living room was illuminated only by the moon which flooded the room with the night light through the glass veranda doors.

Summoning what little strength he had, he pulled himself slowly, awkwardly into a standing position.

Actually, that felt better than sitting down.

With the mist slowly fading from his head, he stumbled over to the wall and snapped on the living room light. The two long strip lights flickered and came to life. Walking slowly, Sam shuffled into the kitchen, picked up a glass and filled it with tap water, which he slowly raised to his lips.

It was then he noticed his hands.

They were shaking vigorously.

The water splashed around on his chin as he forced himself to try and keep steady as he slurped the water down in frantic gulps. He then stared confused at the large dome shaped lamp on the table by the front door which was switched on.

……Dean must have turned it on before he left……

Sam's smiled at the thought of his elder brother Dean. He was glad that Dean was out enjoying himself, he was also glad that Dean had trusted him enough to leave him by himself. A small smile played on Sam's lips, looks like he really would be home alone tonight, well, at least until the small hours of the morning; especially if Dean had anything to do with it.

Sam sighed and shuffled out the kitchen, snapping off the light and jumped, a startled noise leaving his mouth as the glass slipped out his hand and shattering on the wooden floor.

Sam slowly opened his eyes and a smile baited to his lips, a hand against his overly beating heart.

The figure stood in the entrance of Sam's bedroom, a sick smile on his face, his hazel green eyes filled with a dark intensity Sam could not see.

" Dean you scared the hell out of me…" Sam said with a nervous chuckle, " I didn't even know you were back.."

Dean's hands gently massaged the lead pipe he had in his hand, the cold steel bringing unknown comfort to him.

" What happened to your night out..?" Sam asked as he took a step forward as Dean slowly sauntered over to him, tapping the pipe in his hand. Sam stared at the pipe and then looked at his brother slowly, dressed in the exact same outfit he'd left in, the only difference was that everything was now black.

The darkness lit up Dean's eyes as a smirk marred Dean's usually handsome face. Sam swallowed as he begun to back off.

" I didn't even hear you come back in…" Sam said feebly, slowly backing off back towards the veranda; now desperately looking for a way out.

" Things didn't go to plan…" Dean growled, " The girls just weren't interested, and you want to know why…?"

Sam looked at Dean; he couldn't even recognise his brother. The pipe dropped to the sofa and Dean took out his .45 from his back and aimed it straight at Sam's head.

" You ruined everything again…" Dean said shooting the gun, the bullet whizzing past Sam and shattering the veranda door.

" They didn't want to party…" Dean said with a shrug as he dived across the room as Sam more in fear than in defence tried to wriggle free from Dean who desperately tried to pin Sam down. Instinctively, Sam kicked Dean straight off him as Sam scrambled to his feet.

" Dean, this isn't you…" Sam said as he his hand reached for the emergency shot gun placed under the sofa he'd earlier been sleeping on, his hands found nothing but empty space.

" If it's not Dean, then pray tell little brother; who the hell is it…?" Dean growled as he took another step towards Sam, seeing the panicked look on Sam's face when he realised the gun was gone.

Sam, still on his hands on knees, slowly raised his head and looked up at Dean who stood over him, his eyes dark, evil, filled with an intensity that chilled Sam to his soul.

" Dean, look at me…" Sam whispered as he wasn't sure what to do.

" I don't want to look at you…" Dean whispered, as he knelt down slowly in front of Sam and held his face in his hands. Sam's eyes widened when he saw the butterfly knife that his own brother carried appeared straight into Dean's hand. " I'm sick to death of looking at you, looking after you…"

" I want to peel the skin from your bones Sam…" Dean whispered, his hands gripping Sam's face tightly, " And then burn the goodness out of your soul…"

" DEAN…!!!" Sam screamed as he reeled back just as the blade was unleashed inches from his face. Scrambling to his feet he ran towards the front door and found the dead bolt on.

Spinning around, his heart hammering in his chest, his head swinging violently, he saw Dean less than ten feet away swinging the door keys at him.

" You're not going anywhere Samuel…" Dean said evilly, " Not until I'm finished with you…"

" And when will you be finished…?" Sam managed to ask, frantically trying to drive home to himself that this, thing, this evil entity standing in front of him, may look, sound, fight and have same straight ass mouth as his Dean; but this was not his Dean.

" Always got something to say, eh little brother..?" Dean asked as he looked at the knife in his hand. " Just doesn't know when to shut up…"

" You're not my brother…" Sam growled his eyes darting around looking for anything he could use to get this Dean-like bastard the hell away from him. The pieces to this hazy mess was beginning to make sense, now all he had to do was stay alive long enough to buy the real Dean some time to figure it all out himself.

" You don't get to disown me…" Dean said taking another step towards Sam. " And I am your brother, want me to prove it..?"

" What the hell do you want..?" Sam growled his voice gravel filled as he tried to keep himself upright.

Damn this friggin situation and the shitty way he was feeling. Sam was no fool, there was no way he could out fight this guy, not the way he was feeling. He'd be killed by this guy.

" I want you to believe in me Sam…" Dean said walking straight up to Sam now, his hand bracing on the door blocking Sam's path. " What will it take for you to believe in me Sam..?"

Sam shoved Dean away with both hands as hard as he could, and he watched as Dean staggered back and laughed. Sam fell to his knees at the table by the door, his hands frantically searching for the knife he'd seen Dean put in there himself.

" What's the matter, a little scared..?" Dean whispered in his ear, the cold metal blade of Dean's knife pressing against his neck. Sam suddenly gasped loudly when the blade slowly sunk into his skin, he could smell the coppery smell of his own blood.

" Easy tiger…" Dean teased, " All that movement, could get yourself all cut up, now we don't want that to happen now do me. At least not yet…"

Sam closed his eyes as Dean slowly walked away. His heart racing, he turned just in time to see Dean slide the knife over to him.

Sam stood up slowly, the knife sliding inches from his bare feet. His hazel eyes locked with Dean's and Dean beckoned him towards him.

" Come on little man, I know you've wanted to take a pop at me since today.." Dean said with a shrug, " After all, I pissed you off by wishing you were dead, by telling you the truth about why dad really went on the hunting trip…"

" Shut up…!" Sam shouted at him, as he snatched the knife up from the floor.

" Oooohhh, a reaction.." Dean said laughing loudly, " Better record this Kodak moment…"

" I don't know who the hell you are, or what the hell you are…" Sam seethed, " But you just chose the wrong family to piss off…"

Dean's trademark smile danced on his face and for half a second Sam because confused.

This thing, his facial expressions, his movements, everything, it was too much like Dean.

" Actually, it was you that pissed my family off…" Dean explained as he walked back towards the sofa, " You murdered my mom.."

" She was my mom as well.." Sam growled, then realised that he was having argument with god knows what. " Don't ever speak about her like you knew her…"

" Oh but I did, I had four years with her Sam, how long did you have with her..?" Dean pushed. " I mean, I used to lie there at night wondering if I wrote to Santa Clause, could I swap you for her…"

" Stop pretending to be him…" Sam hissed as he flicked the blade open on the knife. The snap of the blade caused a smile to flicker to Dean's face. " You're not him..!"

" Ooh, pushing the buttons now are we Sam..?" Dean teased as he reached onto the sofa and picked up his gun he'd left there.

" Shut up, shut the fuck up…!!" Sam shouted which only made Dean laugh.

" You know there is nothing more funny than you swearing, you sound ridiculous…" Dean kidded, " Sounds like a foreign language…"

Angrily, Sam shook his head as he watched as Dean pointed the silver .45 to the ceiling. It wasn't until the trigger was pulled did Sam Winchester realise what Dean had done. He'd shot the light out in the room, spilling the room with glass.

Sam gritted his teeth as he forced his eyes to try and adjust to the sudden darkness.

He didn't even have time to draw breath when his legs vanished from under him and a rain blows homed in on him…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester pushed open the door to the bar and inhaled the smoky atmosphere which was tinged with alcohol.

Man it was good to be home.

Dean spotted Lydia waving at him, and his heart sunk. God she looked stunning in her vest top and short denim skirt.

Heading over to the booth, Dean noticed than there was another guy there, the dark haired jock from the carnival.

" Dean, this is Cameron…" Lydia said with a grin, " He's ermm, Sandy's date…"

" Date..?" Dean said little confused.

" Yeah, we're gonna have a few drinks with you guys and ermm, then head off…" Cameron said with a nod as he roughly shook Dean's hand and signalled for the waiter to come over.

Sandy shot Dean a sheepish look and Dean looked pointedly at Lydia.

" Look, it's like I told you on the phone, another night ok…" Dean said, " I've got to get back home..?"

" Yeah you said your brother wasn't up to partying tonight.." Lydia said with a shrug, " Doesn't mean you have to miss out.."

" I kind of promised him that I'd be back early…" Dean lied as he felt the guilt the radiating off Sandy.

He couldn't believe that Sandy would have blown out Sam like this; Dean was secretly relieved now that Sam had decided not to come. He'd have never have heard the end of it.

" Look, you're not his nurse maid, I'm sure you're bro will be fine, look, just call whatshisname and tell him that Dean's staying out to play tonight.." Lydia teased with a grin as the waiter returned with a bottle of JD and four shot glasses.

" His name is Sam.." Dean muttered as he watched as Cameron poured the drinks out.

" Well Sammy can look after himself…" Sandy said with a shrug as he knocked back the whiskey and handed a glass to Dean.

" Don't call him Sammy…" Dean said moodily as he knocked back the drink and looked at Lydia and felt a smile float to his face.

" See, wasn't that fun…" Lydia said with a giggle, " Now come on Dean, why don't you tell us all about yourselves…"

Sighing, Dean slid into the booth beside Lydia and begun one of his many rehearsed stories about himself and his family. Using the agreed name of Lawson, Dean explained that they were on vacation from Kansas and waiting for their father to join them. On being asked what they did for a living, Dean went with his old favourite of being a freelance journalist while Sam was taking a year out of college; for the move of course.

Dean poured himself another drink and grinned as everyone downed it at the same time, whiskey burning its way down into his gut.

Ok, maybe Sammy was right. He could stay out and enjoy himself.

Just this once…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam clawed his way hysterically around the room in the darkness, he was disorientated and he could smell the blood, his own blood all over his body.

He was bleeding from what Dean had done.

He'd fought back, with every ounce of strength, but just couldn't get a good move in. It was almost like Dean was incapable of feeling anything inflicted on him by Sam.

" You know when we were younger, I asked dad for a dog…" Dean said standing in the kitchen, cleaning the blood off his knife with a kitchen cloth. " I couldn't get one because you wanted a cat…"

Sam stayed quiet in his hiding place wedges between the two sofas. His heart sunk at what his brother had said. This really was Dean, his Dean, the brother that had been by his side his entire life, protected him from anything; and now he'd finally snapped.

Only Dean would remember that conversation.

" What kind of guy wants a cat over a friggin dog..?" Dean demanded as his eyes scanned the room trying to pick out where his little brother was trying to take refuge this time.

The place was a bomb site, everything that could be broken was, the tv screen smashed through, the sofas, tables, chairs, lamps all over turned and smashed on the floor, the bedrooms were all destroyed, well all accept one. He couldn't destroy his own now; where would he sleep.

" You don't think I wanted my freedom..?" Dean hissed, " You don't think I had dreams..? I wanted to go to college and have fun, get an education, become something, but you had to ruin it all…"

Sam had to clamp a blood soaked hand to his mouth to stop himself responding. He knew it was what Dean wanted, that way he could find him.

Then again, how hard would it be for Dean to find him, they were fighting in only three rooms…!"

" I always wanted to be a detective.." Dean said with a grin, even in the pitch darkness he could see Sam, huddled like a frightened child between the fallen sofas.

That's what he wanted. That was the point.

To scare the shit out of him.

To put the fear of God into the youngest Winchester.

To make him believe that Dean hated him.

To make him understand that everyone hated him.

To make him truly comprehend that the one person who loved him, the key, was the one person who could destroy Sam.

Sam would put his heart, soul, faith in his big brother. Sam would die to save Dean. Sam would do anything to give his big brother his freedom to be happy, to spare him from the supernatural world that Sam held himself responsible for.

Dean would do anything to save Sam. Full stop.

Now it would be interesting to test that theory. To see how far Dean would actually go to save Sam.

The man with the hazel green eyes continued to admire the blade he was cleaning. God it was fun screwing with people's heads.

Especially psychics.

They automatically assume that they're immune from mind manipulation but with the right medication and right amount of pressure, they were just as vulnerable to intrusion as your average man.

Sam had surpassed vulnerable about an hour ago.

Instead the youngest Winchester was destroyed mentally, not fully convinced that his own brother had beaten the hell out of him physically and battered him mentally.

The man smiled as his hazel green eyes scanned the room.

He knew Sam. The physical scars would heal, but the mental ones wouldn't.

He'd never fully trust Dean ever again.

It was that tiny little bit of doubt, that little niggling thought in the back of the young psychic's mind; that's what the master wanted.

Sighing out loud, Dean headed over to the sofa and could imagine the tense panicked feeling that was running through Sam at that precise moment.

Dean heard the scrambled, quiet movements of Sam trying to get away. Dean watched and rolled his eyes.

This boy just didn't know when to lie down and stay dead.

His big brother would just have to show him how.

" Sam..?" Dean whispered trying to keep the chuckle out of his voice, " Sam, I'm sorry for all of this, I don't know what's happened in here. I don't know what's going on..?"

Sam Winchester had just about made it to his destroyed bed room, he was in the doorway when his big brother's voice came across the room towards him. It was filled with remorse, confusion, worry; just like his Dean.

" Why are there no lights..?" Dean whispered, " Sam, where are you, I can barely see my own hand in front of my friggin face in here…"

Shaking with uncertainty, Sam gingerly forced himself in to a bowed standing up position. His chest was killing him, and the slash marks on his arms were burning; yet he had to ignore it, Dean needed him.

" Dean..?" Sam whispered in the darkness. " Is that really you..?"

" Of course it's me, who else is it going to be…?" Dean muttered as he tried again not to laugh as he watched Sam's innocent silhouette in the darkness.

Ah, that naive little child thinking that his big brother was back to save him.

" Oh thank god…" Sam whispered, " Dean I don't know what's happening myself, I'm so confused.."

Dean Winchester walked over to Sam reached behind his physically shaking little brother and snapped on Sam's bedroom light. Standing in the doorway, Dean expertly wiped the smirk off his face as he stared into Sam's hazel eyes which were searching his face.

" We need to get out of here now…" Sam whispered as he leaned heavily against the door frame, he could taste the blood in his mouth from the split lip he had. He could feel the grazes on his cheek bone burning; the glass in his palms and in his feet killed.

Yet he didn't care, Dean was here, he was back. He'd know what to do. He always did.

" Who did this to you..?" Dean said gently taking his hands and reaching up cupping the back of Sam's neck.

" I think a shapeshifter or possession or something, I don't know exactly…" Sam whispered as he closed his eyes at Dean's touch, relief washing over him. " You can put the knife down, I think he's gone now…"

He was safe. His Dean was back and Sam was now safe.

"I was sure that Dean had done this…?" Dean hissed at Sam staring deep into the boy's eyes that stared into him. Dean grinned as he saw the panic reach Sam's eyes.

" Did what..?" Sam asked in confusion, consciousness fighting him every step.

Sam's eyes widened when for just a second he saw it again, the evil cold glint that shone in his brother's hazel green eyes. The fury that was often the root of Dean's anger, anger aimed only at Sam

" Dean….no…" Sam whispered his voice caught in his throat as the knife slashed violently into his side.

Dean Winchester watched as Sam slumped to the floor, his blood induced body staining the white frame work as it fell lifeless to the floor.

Dean looked at the knife in his hand and leaving the blade open tossed it towards the shattered veranda door.

With a bright smile on his face, Dean Winchester's body exploded into a burst of black swarms and headed out the shattered glass door of the veranda.

Everything was going like clockwork….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

One word: Uh-oh……..See you guys next update and please if you do get a chance, leave a review; it's the only way I know what's going on in your head !LOL