A/N: well here is chapter 5. sorry that it took so long, and that it is so short. school and finals and moving back home for the break was a long process. but to appease you, i am giving you both chapter 5 and 6!! both of them are really short, sorry about that, but the other chapters should be too long in coming. hope that you enjoy them, and review review review!!

Disclaimer: Gosh darn it!! all i asked for for christmas was the winchester boys, wrapped up nicely in a bow and nothing else. did i get that? no. so alas, the brothers don't belong to me. yet...

Brothers in Arms

Chapter 5

Needless to say, Dean was not exactly a happy camper to be woken up, mumbling something about bikini-clad women and a hot tub, but he succumbed to the checkup like Sam knew that he would. Letting Dean fall back to sleep, Sam took a lap around the old barn, stretching out muscles that had become cramped from the cold and his inactivity. He stopped in front of the back wall and stared, fascinated by what he saw.

The whole back wall was like a tribute to the past. Pitchforks and scythes, cattle yokes and hand plows, and many tools that Sam didn't recognize. He took down the pitchfork and imagined what it would have been like to work an entire field with just the implements before him. Putting the pitchfork back into its place, Sam noticed for the first time that his hands were stained with blood. Dean's blood. Suddenly Sam's mind flashed back to a conversation that he had had with Dean just hours before. The creature could track them, smell their blood, follow them to the barn! They had injured it, but probably only enough to make their getaway. It could be coming for them, at any moment it could burst through those doors.

God, how could he have been so stupid! He had left Dean alone, unprotected! It could have come for Dean at any point while he was gone and Dean wouldn't have stood a chance. He blanched at the possibility of loosing his brother due to his ignorance. If it was coming, Sam had to do something to slow it down. He looked around for anything that he could use, and grabbed several pieces of equipment before turning back to the door. Several pieces of equipment were shoved through the handles of the door, effectively jamming them if someone, or in this case something, tried to push them open. The same held true for several of the larger windows. It wouldn't give him long, but Sam figured that a little bit of time was better than being taken by surprise. He grabbed a pitchfork and settled in next to Dean to wait out the night.

Another hour passed, another cranky encounter with Dean, and Sam noticed that dawn was just starting its approach. Sam kept at his vigil, jerking himself awake every time he felt his eyelids droop. It was on his next lap around the barn that he felt it; it was nothing definitive, and Sam couldn't explain it. It was there and gone in almost an instant. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he started to make his way back to Dean. Halfway there, he felt it again. Stronger than the first time, he felt a sort of darkness filling his mind, something that just felt wrong. And this time, the feeling didn't really go away. What the hell is going on? It wasn't a vision; at least he didn't think that it was. None of his other visions ever started out this way.

As he got back to Dean and once again settled the pitchfork in his hands, the feelings grew to an almost unbearable level, his whole body twitching from the pain that he was feeling. His brother woke up because of his agonized screams.

"Sam? Sam what's going on? What's wrong?"

But Sam couldn't answer him, so focused on what he was feeling inside his head instead. Cold. Pain. Anger. Hunger. And suddenly he knew what it was that he was feeling, although how and why was still a mystery to him, just as the barrage on the door started. Renewing his grip on the pitchfork, he saw in dismay that first one, then two of the wooden poles that he had shoved into the door handles splinter and crack. Here we go he thought, as the door burst open.

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