Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural
Summary: It isn't the arm choking his brother that grabs his attention, but Sam clutching his head. "Not a good time, Sammy," Dean says as Sam's hands fall limply to his sides and his eyes stare straight ahead, unseeing of the current events taking place.
Set during Dead Man's Blood.

Visionary Savior
Chapter 3

Dean parks the car in the motel parking lot and turns his attention once again to his brother. Sam's leaning against the window with his breath fogging up the window being the only indication that he is even alive.

He puts his hand on Sam's shoulder and calls, "Sam."

Like the last times, he receives no response.

Dean sighs and vaguely hears the truck behind him shut off before the Impala's passenger door is being opened. With the door opened, Sam's seatbelt is the only thing keeping him from tumbling out onto the pavement. Then Johns face emerges from the darkness to peer more closely at Sam and unfasten his seatbelt.

By the time Dean walks to the passenger side of the car, John already has Sam clumsily on his feet. Dean helps support the other side of Sam and then together they stumble to get Sam into the motel room.

---

Sam can feel himself moving which is odd considering he doesn't even have enough strength to open his eyes let alone move a limb.

"You've gotta stop eating so much, Sammy."

Dean?

Sam waits for a response before he realizes he never spoke it aloud. He remembers waking up in the Impala and speaking, but now he can't. Speaking requires strength that Sam doesn't possess at the moment.

Suddenly, he feels hands gently lowering him onto something soft. He sinks into the lumpy softness. The bed, he's on the bed. It's becoming harder to think straight.

Suddenly, the constant pounding in his head increases to a stabbing and Sam forgets to question why it's getting harder and harder to think straight.

---

Caleb climbs the church steps that Jim perches at and calls home because John asked--no ordered him to find Jim. He does not appreciate being ordered around, nor being hung up on by a man who he hasn't heard from in months. Even though, John was rude he was also worried. The guy may be bossy, but he never gives an order without a reason.

"Jim?" he calls opening the church doors.

When he receives no answer, he walks past the empty pews to downstairs. Descending the stairs with his footsteps emitting the only sounds, he can't help but think that everything is quiet--too quiet. It's a cliché, but a true one nevertheless; quiet always equals trouble.

Caleb tightens his grip on the knife in his right hand while cautiously pushing Jim's office door open.

---

John lays his hand on Sam's forehead checking for a fever. Instead of heat, he feels coldness. Without hesitation, he takes the blanket from the other bed and covers Sam with it while staring at his face waiting for some type of movement.

In the brightly light motel room, Dean notices the dried blood from Sam's nosebleed earlier. He leaves Sam's side for mere seconds to return with a wet washcloth. Sitting beside Sam, he wipes the dried blood away.

"Talk to me, son," John says breaking the painful silence. "What's going on?"

Busying himself with the task of cleaning his brother of blood, Dean replies with the same words Sam once told him, "Sometimes Sam has nightmares and they come true."

John's reaction is close to his. "Excuse me?"

"He dreamt about Jessica's death before it happened--"

"A coincidence doesn't mean anything, Dean, you know that."

"Yeah, but it wasn't." He continues his story, "It happened two more times and then he started having nightmares--visions--when he was awake. They're bad, but they've never been this bad." He brings his gaze away from Sam to John begging him for help without ever having to say a word. "Something's wrong."

---

Caleb is a hunter who faces the supernatural everyday, but nothing could have prepared for what he sees.

"Jim!" he yells to his friend.

Jim is covered in his own blood from a deep slash on his throat, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream or plea, while his eyes gaze dully at nothing.

Before he even realizes what he's doing, Caleb finds himself feeling for a pulse and prying for a miracle.

---

Taking in everything Dean's just told him, John sits on the bed opposite Sam with his elbows on his knees and leans forward.

After a pause John orders, "Walk me through a vision," hoping to find some clue as to how to help Sam.

"His head starts killing him and then," Dean runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he's always had, "he spaces out and sees whatever it is he sees. But..."

"But what?" John asks hesitantly.

"The visions, they're been getting worse. More painful." Dean pauses almost afraid saying it aloud would make it more true, "They're slowly killing him."

---

Caleb was so focused on finding a pulse that he never heard the approaching footsteps.

---

John knows he has to say something, but doesn't know what. What can a father say when he finds out the visions, he didn't even know his son had, are killing him? Maybe if he had known about the visions before now he would have found same type--any type--of help by now, but he hadn't known.

"You should have told me sooner," John accuses.

Dean reacts with anger. "What so I should have called and left a message? 'Hey, Dad it's Dean. Sam, you know your son, has nightmares that come true and now has head-splitting visions. Oh and by the way, I think they're killing him.' We both know you wouldn't have called back."

"Don't tell me what I would or wouldn't have done."

It's something both of them thought would never be said to Dean, probably Sam, but not Dean. But they're both too angry to take notice.

Dean jumps from the bed to stand in front of John. "I called you from Palto Alto. I called you from Lawrence. Sam called you when I was dieing. I was dieing, Dad, and you didn't even call back! I have a better chance of winning the lottery than getting you on the phone."

They're both surprised at Dean's amount of anger and once again, John doesn't know what to say. Dean's right, he should have called back. He thought he was protecting his sons by keeping as much distance as he could, but he clearly was wrong.

"You're right, I should have ca--"

As if on cue, John's cell phone rings. He fishes the phone from his jacket pocket and glances at the caller ID.

Dean stares incredulous at the man before him who couldn't pick up the phone for his own sons, but could answer on the first ring for someone else.

John presses talk and demands an answer, "Did you find Jim?"

From the other end he hears an unexpected voice answer, "Oh, he found him alright and a little surprise too."

A/N: I guarantee you that you'll be surprised who is actually on the phone. I had fun writing this chapter so I hope you enjoyed it.