(Disclaimer: Don't own anything except the following story)

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Return of the Dragon Slayer.

Chapter Two.

Dean slipped quietly back into the motel room at around midday and found Sam still asleep. He was thankful for that, he didn't want to face all the questions. Questions for which he had no answers.

He'd awoken on the floor of an abandonned warehouse in the middle of the night, coat and sword with him and that same swirling pattern on the floor in front of him. He had slowly risen and taken a step towards the pattern when he'd felt a searing pain in his head. He'd fallen to his knees, letting out a low yell and the next thing he remembered he was in the Impala, wearing the coat, his sword on the floor at his feet, the sun high in the sky. He had sighed and started the car; he was worried, he'd had two episodes in one night...he didn't remember that ever happening before...he'd laughed hollowly, shit, he didn't remember anything anymore.

He looked over at Sam again, he wasn't sure how long he'd been gone but he guessed it was just one day, as the clothes he remembered Sam last wearing were thrown over the end of the bed. He stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, ignoring the niggling pain in his back as he fell into a fitful sleep…

He was back in 'that world'…that place he only ever found in his dreams. A place he longed to be, a place he longed to revisit, a place he knew wasn't real.

He was sitting on the blue grass as two horses grazed close by; he was totally relaxed here, still revelling in the wonderment of this place and he was talking with someone. He didn't know who, as he couldn't see them, but the voice was that of a woman. He couldn't hear what she was saying either but he felt an ache every time she spoke.

He was taken away from that place and moved on to another. A lake, a lake the colour of honey. He sat down, plucking a blade of blue grass from the ground and twirling it in his fingers as he watched the strange birds and fish that inhabited the lake and he smiled as he watched the fish leaping into the air before splashing back into the golden liquid. He lay back on the grass, the sweet smell of something like honey-suckle floating on the wind, a gentle caress on his skin.

He didn't know how long he lay like that, his senses taking in every part of this place, wanting to experience it all before it was ripped away from him. It was that thought, the realisation that this place had been stolen from him that started him to anger, but he didn't want that feeling while he was here, he didn't want to taint this place with anything negative. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up into the pink and orange sky, watching unbelievably beautiful birds circle above him. He frowned and pushed himself up when he heard a distant sound, a sound that was beginning to become more and more familiar to him, one he couldn't quite place but one he knew was vitally important.

He looked back over the lake and watched as it started to slowly fade, blurring round the edges as it began to close in on itself…it was being taken away from him again and he fought against it, wanting to stay here…not wanting to leave but knowing he would…he always did. And he yelled in frustration, in anger, in sadness as he was dragged from this world and back to his own.

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Sam woke to groans coming from the bed next to his and his own groans joined his brothers as he woke. He'd fallen asleep on his arm and every movement sent shooting pains up it and into his neck. He rolled over and saw Dean lying on his stomach, shaking his head as he groaned and muttered 'no, no, no…let me stay…'. Dean was having another one of the dreams. Sam sat up slowly, trying to move his arm as little as possible. He looked over at Dean again and his heart skipped a beat, all thoughts of the pain in his arm forgotten. The back of Dean's t-shirt had spots of blood on it. He got up quickly and went to his brother, lifted the shirt gently away from him and stared. Dean had gone out last night, snuck out while Sam was sleeping…again …and this time he'd come back with a tattoo on his back.

He sighed and gently shook Dean's shoulder "Dean…Dean…time to wake up, dude…" Dean's eyes snapped open and had that far-away look in them they always did when he woke from one of those dreams only this time, his eyes were tinged with sadness "S'Alright, Dean…" and he sat back on his bed "What was it this time? The blue fields again?"

Dean sat up and rubbed his hands down his face and nodded. He swung his legs out of bed and stretched, wincing a little as he did so.

"Sore back?" asked Sam.

"Yeah"

"That'd be the tattoo"

"What?" asked Dean incredulously.

"The tattoo, dude" he looked at his brother "Looks like you went out again last night, got yourself a mother of a tattoo on your back. Go look"

Dean got up and went to the bathroom. He removed his t-shirt and turned, looking over his shoulder …and at the tattoo of a large dragon that took up most of the left side of his back; its head went up over his shoulder and onto the top part of his chest. It must have taken hours…and he didn't remember getting it at all.

Sam stood in the bathroom doorway, watching Dean's reaction to the tattoo. He could tell by the look on his brother's face that he had no memory of getting it. "Where did you wake up this time?"

Dean was unable to drag his eyes from the mirror "Two towns over" he mumbled.

"Coat and sword?" Dean nodded "That tatt would have taken hours, Dean"

Dean reached over and turned on the shower "Unless you want to see me naked again, dude. Get out" and he pushed Sam out the door and locked it. He turned back to the mirror and stared at the tattoo, he shook his head as the steam started to fill the room, he must still be tired because for a moment, it looked like the tattoo had moved.

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Sam went to the laptop and entered a search directive for tattoo parlours. He found three possibilities and rang them, it was the second one. He spoke to the owner for a while before closing his phone. Dean had come in last night around midnight and had known exactly what he'd wanted. He'd selected a picture and made slight alterations to it before sitting down. It had taken two tattoo artists to finish it as Dean refused to leave until it was done. When Sam had asked the man if Dean had said anything, the man had hesitated before answering. He'd said the only thing Dean had said to them was that he and the dragon were one. After that, he hadn't spoken, had just sat in the chair in complete silence.

Sam looked up as Dean walked out "Dude, we gotta talk about this. The disappearances are happening more and more often. The time between them is getting shorter as well. It's escalating, dude" he shook his head "What do you do, Dean?"

Dean threw on his jeans and a clean t-shirt and sat on the bed "That's just it, Sammy. I don't know. I don't know why I go there and I don't know what I do once I'm there" he sighed, he didn't want to talk about this. He looked at Sam and smiled "But I'll be alright" he slipped his boots on. "You find us anything evil to kill? I'm itchin' for a fight"

"Jesus, Dean!" he tapped at the laptop "I've been looking up some shit…and I think I found something that matches what's happening to you" he looked at Dean "They're what's called 'fugues'. It's where you lose time, awareness of what you're doing and sometimes loss of your…identity, you forget who you are and you do things that you normally wouldn't do…say…I don't know, like get tattoos"

"Fugues?"

Sam nodded "It says here that sufferers often run from their environment, like they're escaping something, their mind doesn't want to face it so they run" he chose his next words very carefully "It's a form of …umm, hysteria, it says. You're running from something, Dean…"

"Fugues"

"Yeah"

Dean stood "Yeah? Well fugue you, Sammy! I'm not fucking hysterical and I don't run from shit! So you take that laptop and shove it up your ass!" he grabbed his jacket and stormed out.

Sam heard the Impala start up and the screeching of tyres as Dean did what he said he wasn't doing…running. Running from something...running from the truth.

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The dragon soared high above its homeland, his wings spread wide as he looked down upon his sanctuary, his sanctuary that was soon to be invaded. He and his kind were about to go to war, a war they didn't want to fight but a war they would fight, fight to the death. They would not become the slaves of men again. They were proud, honourable creatures and they would not be humbled by the ones who thought themselves superior.

The pact that had been made millennia ago with the previous 'protectors' of this land had been broken. The 'new ones' had come, come onto their land and given them an ultimatum; join forces and bring the race to the forefront of all the others or watch the systematic slaughter of their kind. The 'new ones' had declared war and the dragons would not shy away from it.

He circled high in the sky, sending out another call, a call that had remained unanswered …until now. He felt the stirrings from that 'outer world' and he sent the call out again. An 'awakening' was beginning and he issued a roar that shook the ground beneath him.

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Dean sat in the Impala, his head leaning against the window as the sun beat down on him. He was starting to lose control, control of his actions and control of himself. He was more than worried, he was scared. Scared because he believed he was losing his mind and if that happened...he shook his head, Dean Winchester out of control was something he didn't want to think about.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore Sam's words, the words that kept circling his mind...'you're running from something, Dean'. He didn't think that was right though, he thought that maybe, maybe he was running towards something. And that was the thought his mind latched onto as he fell into another sleep…

He was travelling with Sam, on the road like they always were, Sam was talking to him about something they had to find, find and kill. Something evil, which really wasn't all that surprising considering what it was they did. He looked out the window at the skyline they were approaching…New York, they were going to New York. He felt a fluttering in his stomach, a sense of foreboding coupled with excitement. New York, he would find answers there, he was sure of it.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he felt a rippling on his back and what he thought was the sensation of claws in his skin. He shifted again then frowned in his sleep as he heard a soft whispering…a beckoning…he was being called to…

His eyes snapped open when he heard a roar that rocked his very soul.

"New York…" he whispered.

To be continued…