With The Coming of the Dawn

Summary

The hunters become the hunted when a creature stalks a remote community, and one of the brothers has a choice to make. Will both brothers survive the hunt and the decision of the other?

Disclaimer

Nope still don't own them, still want to, so nothing new there!

Author's Note

Thanks to all who reviewed, honestly your encouragement has helped me keep going. Special thanks to Intra who gave me the courage to post this chapter despite my misgivings. Thank you!

Now a little bit of a warning – this chapter contains a flashback to Wee Winchester time and is a little soppy. Although Dean is 11, I have tried to write him a little older as I really think that the life they lead and the responsibility he has would have made him a bit older than his years. And Sammy is a young 7 in many ways, mainly because of how much Dean protects him. May change the chapter around as not sure on the running order. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 10

Elsie was worried. It was now midday and there was still no sign of Missouri. She had tried calling her at least a dozen times but there was no answer. Sam had provided her with Caleb's number, and she had no idea what type of car Missouri had borrowed to describe to the police to see if there had been any accidents or to report her friend missing. The car could have broken down, the phone out of signal. There was any number of logical, none supernatural reasons for Missouri being late, but she didn't believe them. Elsie could feel that something was very wrong - a feeling of unease had been growing steadily all morning. She would give her friend another couple of hours and she was calling the police.

She finished brewing yet another herbal tea – it was all Dean could keep down now. She could tell the effect of the leech stone was waning. The pinched look of pain was back on Dean's face, weariness with the internal battle, the bright spark of life within those startling green eyes slowly dimming. Sam knew she could see it; his eyes becoming more desperate as the day progressed and he refused to leave his brothers side at all. He grasped his father's journal to him as if a lifeline; he must have read it though at least half a dozen times, searching for anything that could help his brother. He had spoken to all of his father's contacts with the exception of both Missouri and Caleb whose phones went unanswered.

Elsie looked into the bedroom, watching the slow rise and fall of Dean's chest. Sam stood at the window, his eyes unseeing, his shoulders bowed, completely lost in thought. The Doctor had been again that morning, and pronounced Dean Stable, and prescribed more pills for the elder Winchester. He had already slipped Elsie something to give to Sam to help him sleep as he obviously had had no rest for some time know. The Doctor again expressed his reluctance to move Dean but advised that if he was still no better the following day, they would have to take the risk. The infection and fever were putting a tremendous strain on the older brother's heart, and the younger's too Elsie thought sadly.

She could feel Sam withdrawing further into himself, the weight of his father's words slowly crushing him. Each word had been a cruel blow to what little was left of Sam's self worth. That coupled with the steady drain of the leech stone left him lethargic, exhausted, with only enough energy and will to talk to his brother whenever Dean woke, which was becoming more and more infrequent.

Elsie was terrified she was going to lose them both. She could sense that if Dean died, Sam would follow and quickly. Without his brother, Sam was lost, defeated and vulnerable. The two brothers had captured a special place in heart in the short space of time they had been there. She needed Missouri and quickly.

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Sam stood the window lost in memories. At the moment the future looked terrifying, hell if anything happened to his brother, there was no future; the present was just too painful, so he rested his head against the window and briefly escaped to the past. Although early afternoon the sky was already darkening, thick purple hued clouds building and flakes of snow began to fall, the first snowfall of the season.

The sight of the snow cast his mind to one of the happiest memories of his childhood and Sam drifted, little realising that because of the leech stone, he was taking Dean along with him.

It was Christmas Eve and 7 year old Samuel Winchester was ricocheting around a motel room in a small town in Colorado. The motel was dark and dingy, brown leaf wall paper peeling in places from the walls; and a small TV in his and Dean's room was all the entertainment there for the youngster. The library was closed so the prospect of snow gave a whole new range of things they could do, he had seen the forecast on the TV and had been waiting patiently all day for the snow to come. Moments earlier he had been looking out of the window when he had seen snow beginning to fall.

" De! De! It's snowing!" He yelled excitedly, tearing around the house, he heard voices in his Dad's bedroom. "De! Dad…" He ran into the room and stopped suddenly. His father was packing a bag and giving his elder brother instructions.

"I should only be gone a couple of days…"

"Daddy?" Sam's lower lip started to tremble, "but its Christmas!"

"Look Sammy, I have to go" He had begged his father to stay, tears streaming down his face, holding on to him like he would never let go. John pried his youngest son away. "Sammy, stop acting like a baby! You don't see your brother acting up do you?" Sam looked over at his brother.

"He doesn't look too happy about it either"

Dean almost snorted at his brother's comment, but the look of exasperation on his fathers face sobered him instantly.

"C'mon Sammy" and pulled him away from his father, "you know he has to go – we can't let someone get hurt at Christmas now can we" He cajoled his kid brother.

A "No" was muttered quietly. Sam's breath still hitched but he was no longer crying.

John swung the bag over his shoulder. "See you boys in a couple of days, and Dean?

"Yes Dad?"

"Watch Sammy!" This was chorused in all three voices, John's strict and uncompromising, Dean with serious responsibility but also with the air of someone who had been given the same instruction for the umpteenth time, and Sammy with a precocious roll of his eyes and some resentment.

"Yes sir, "Dean quickly added seeing his father's face darken.

John just shook his head and left.

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Both boys watched him leave, Sam was still for a moment before tears again started to fall and he fled the room.

"Sammy!" Dean growled in frustration. This was not going to be fun, although he could understand why his brother was unhappy. Sam had never had a proper Christmas, although Dean always made sure there was a present for his younger brother and tried to make it as special as possible. But the elder brother also understood that just because it was the holidays, didn't mean bad things stopped happening. In fact it was frequently the opposite, as supernatural activity always seemed to pick up over the holiday season.

Dean at least had the memory of Christmas before their family was torn apart. And until this year, they had at least always managed to be together as a family. Dean sighed as he approached the room he shared with his brother.

"Hey squirt" There was no answer except the muffled sobbing of his younger brother. He sat on the bed next to his brother and softly brushed his brother's hair from his eyes. "Sssh, Sammy – Santa will still come. Dad or no Dad!" He smiled at his kid brother reassuringly. Despite his father's disapproval at the inherent risks of confusing reality and fairytales, he still didn't have the heart to disillusion his younger brother.

"Carl told me that only baby's still believe in Santa Dean" His kid brother answered. Dean wished that Carl would learn to keep his big fat mouth shut- it wasn't as if his brother had many illusions.

"Who you going to listen to? Your big brother who as you know is always right or that snot-nosed weasel down stairs huh?" His brother smiled trustingly,

"Always you De"

"Damn straight" and Dean smacked his brother with a pillow. Ten minutes and two wrecked pillows later, a giggling Sam yelled uncle and looked up at his brother

"So Santa will definitely know where we are?"

"Course he will squirt, I told him didn't I?"

"What if I haven't been good enough?" Sam asked looking worried.

"C'mon Sam, you d well at school, do your chores, apart from annoying the hell out of your big brother, am pretty sure you're safe Sam"

"De?" Sam asked sleepily "What was Christmas like with Mom?"

Dean sucked in his breath, it still hurt to think of their mom, but his brother loved his stories about when she was still alive, wanted to know everything in minute detail so that he could "paint mom pictures in his head"

So he described the tree, the stocking's, the decorations, singing carols, the creeping out of bed on 5 in the morning, Dad covering his eyes as he guided him downstairs. Sam sat and listened wide eyed at the idea their father doing such things, "Daddy would sing?" he asked incredulously, trying to integrate the single-minded and serious hunter their father had become with the playful doting father of Dean's memory.

This year, Dean had resolved, would be different, and their father's absence was the perfect opportunity. He had been earning money from the neighbours running errands and had it all planned. He waited until his brother was sound asleep and set to work.

The next morning he gently shook his brother "out of bed sleepyhead"

"De?" his brother murmured sleepily

"Hey kiddo, Santa's been!"

Sammy jumped up excitedly, and went to run to the other room. Dean grabbed at his arm "Wait – I want you to close your eyes"

"Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Always De"

"Then close your eyes" His brother obediently closed his eyes and Dean placed his hands over them and guided him to the other room, "No peeking", he reminded him.

"Now open your eyes" Sam's eyes widened and his mouth opened in a small 'o' of surprise. Inside the room was a small Christmas tree, complete with fairy lights, baubles and tinsel, and paper chains festooned the room. Even though the decorations were cheap and mostly homemade and the tree wilting and a little threadbare, or maybe because of this, Sam thought it was the most magical thing he had ever seen.

"See what Santa did?" Dean said unselfishly. "You must have been extra good this year!" Dean fairly glowed at the obvious wonder and delight shown by Sam.

His younger brother looked at him with eyes wise beyond his years and smiled knowingly, he reached out and hugged his brother "Thanks De"

His brother hugged him back, his chin briefly resting on the top of Sam's head. "What about your present?" he asked.

"Present?" Sam asked - there was more?

"Under the tree Sammy" Sam looked at the tree before looking back at his brother and then quickly darted from the room.

"Sammy?" but a moment later Sam returned, a small parcel wrapped crudely in cheery Rudolph Christmas paper with the tag "to the best big brother in the world, written in handwriting already neater that Dean or his father's.

"Merry Christmas De".

Dean had not been expecting this, he had been so concerned on making his brother's Christmas special, he hadn't realised Sam had been doing the same.

"Open it!" Sam was bouncing up and down on the spot. Dean removed the wrapping paper and found a gold scarab pendant on a leather cord inside.

"Sam where did you get this?"

"It's from me and Daddy" Sam said seriously, "I promised not to ask for any pocket money for a whole year, do all the chores for a month and to learn Latin to help you with hunting. Daddy said it was special and would keep bad things from hurting you" His young brother looked so serious, "So you have to put it on straight away" Dean did "and promise not to take it off. Daddy said as long as I love you it will keep you safe, so if you keep it on, it will keep you safe forever" Sam said with the complete innocence and faith of a 7 year old.

Dean grimaced at the 'L' word, but not so that his brother could see. But he made sure it was tied securely around his neck. His brother stretched up on his tiptoes and kissed his cheek "love you De"

"Urgh Sammy must you?" Sam grinned and dashed to the tree, unrestrainedly tearing at the wrapping paper.

Dean had bought the book, "Huckleberry Finn" that Sam had been after for months now, some sweets and a travel compendium of games. They spent the morning playing the games and eating sweets till they both felt ill.

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John returned home at lunchtime to the sound of his sons' laughter, "when I says whoa, I mean whoa" greeted his ears. His son's were watching Yo Samedy Sam cartoons on the TV. He couldn't believe the motel room's transformation, and was momentarily transported back to a happier time with Mary and Dean.

He stood in the doorway and his eldest son always alert around his younger brother, immediately turned. Sammy, who almost seemed to have an inbuilt sense when in came to his brother, turned a moment later. The change in his sons' faces cut John to the quick- had he changed so much? A smile came to his normally serious face.

"I take it Santa found us then?"

Dean smiled in relief at his father, and his youngest's face lit up with the sweetest smile.

"Daddy we have a present for you too". Sammy passed him a small rectangular parcel covered in Snowmen. Surprised, John opened the gift – inside was a picture in a cheap wooden frame, a picture of his two sons with huge beaming smiles. "It's so we can be with you wherever you are" Sammy smiled and kissed his father's cheek, "Merry Christmas Daddy"

"Soppy much" Muttered Dean, but he too was grinning. "Merry Christmas Dad"

John raised his hand to his face; his kids never seemed to amaze him. Dean with his generous nature, protective and adoring of his younger brother, always putting his family's needs before his own. And Sam, one of the sweetest, gentlest kids in the world, always seeing the good in people and a constant shadow to his hero big brother. Before John could say anything though, his phone rang.

"Sorry John, I know it's Christmas but there's a family in trouble" Pastor Jim's apologetic voice said softly, and John knew he had to leave again. But he took the picture with him as a reminder of what he was fighting for, and safe in the knowledge that his sons were there for each other.

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Sam opened his eyes, that was new. Seeing a memory through not only his own eyes but his brother's and father's too had provided him with s greater understanding of his family and a whole new level of appreciation of his brother. He always looks out for me, and the thought and the memory warmed his soul, pushing back the seeds of self-doubt that the argument with his father had sown. Something tickled his mind, something in his father's journal but before he could think further, he heard a weak call from his brother and turned.

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Meanwhile Missouri was being wheeled through A and E having been found unconscious in the wreck of what was left of Caleb's car. She had yet to regain consciousness, but that wasn't going to stop her. Her mother had taught her at a young age the art of spirit journeying or what parapsychologists called Astral Projecting. She needed to see what was happening, but first she had to find out what the hell was going on with John Winchester. She focused and could feel her spirit racing towards him, and within moments was sitting behind him in his truck. She didn't have a body to sit but old habits die hard, she thought grimly.

She could sense the battle with the eldest hunter, could feel him raging against the entity within. Demon, she whispered, and an old one at that. She could feel time flowing off him, hundreds of years of cruelty and malice, the sadistic pleasure taken in the hunt, the torture and the kill. This creature fed off the pain and suffering it caused like a psychic leech, the irony of what was keeping Dean alive was not lost on either the Demon or on the psychic, and the Winchesters were providing it a veritable buffet. Even before the creature's attack, the family's souls were already soaked in anguish, especially the youngest. And the fact that Sam was a psychic whet the Demon's appetite even more. This Demon's fed through psychic channels, that was why the creatures poisoned their prey, she realised. In non-psychics, like Dean, she thought her heart constricting, the poison triggered a cascade like reaction in their minds, stimulating normally dormant channels, but twisting them to cause both mental and physical torment. And this Demon would draw on that until only a shell remained, and his creatures would devour what was left.

But with a psychic, especially like Sam, the demon was gorging; she could pick up how he had already been playing with Sam and flinched at the words spoken. But this demon had further plans, but before she could dig any further a tightening of John's shoulders alerted her to the fact that in her determination to get as much information as possible, she had not shielded as well as she perhaps should.

There was an overlap in the figure before her, a 3 dimensional double exposure, a tear in reality and she could see the entity within John twist in the seat, and thought-quick snatched at her arm and gripped tightly.

"Hello Missouri, long time no see. Has anyone never told you that it is not polite to pry? Or to get into strange cars either…" The Other grinned, Missouri tried futilely too pull her mind back, but she had underestimated this demon's strength. "On no my dear, you are going no where, I am going to keep you here with me. Besides I think Johnny boy could do with the company, he seems to be upset with me for some reason"

"No" She whispered, and tried again, and faintly in the distance heard a female voice saying

"Doctor her pupils are non responsive, her vitals…", the voice faded into the distance, all Missouri could see was the blood red eyes, as they slowly enveloped her soul in flame…

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A/N So, awful? I think I went a little off track. Please let me know what you think!

The cliffie is dedicated to Kat, Sifi, Beist and Intra – I know you love 'em really lol!