AUTHOR'S NOTES: I finally managed to sneak enough time at work to type this thing. I apologize for the wait, although I bet you guys already know how long I take to write if you have read this from the beginning. Rest assured that I am working on polishing the next part as I post this so that I can upload it too. Thank you for your patience, for putting me on your alerts and for leaving reviews. I am humbled and grateful for it. BTW, I don't have any beta's so please forgive grammar errors.

DISCLAIMER: Supernatural is this awesome show that will never be mine, no matter what I do. So don't sue.

NEARLY LOST YOU

by Tari Palantir

"Well, what do you know," Dean commented. "They still kept the furniture." He motioned to the sparsely decorated living room. He then slung their duffel on his shoulder and stepped forward to the long couch situated in front of an old television set.

Sam watched, still in the doorway, as his brother ran a tentative finger on the couch. Dean's face scrunched up at the gathering dust. "I guess housekeeping hasn't exactly been here though."

He then looked at his little brother, who was still clutching the doorframe, knuckles almost white. "Come inside, dude," he coaxed. "There's nothing here to be scared of."

Sam reluctantly relinquished his hold on the doorframe and walked towards his brother, eyes gazing around the living room, drinking in the sight of the unfamiliar room. It's so big! he thought.

"Do you like it Sammy?" Dean asked, grinning broadly at the look of wonder on his baby brother's face.

Sam nodded. "It's so big, Deanie! " he then spoke, unable to contain his excitement.

"Is it? Looks kind of the same size as the motel we were staying at."

Sam shook his head. "Nuh-uh! This is bigger!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, like, like, this big!" He made a wide circular motion with his arms, stretching them as far as he was able.

Dean laughed at that, and shook his head in amusement. He then gestured to the room they were at. "Well, Sammy, let me give you a tour of our old house. This was our living room."

Sam perked up in interest. Dean's teaching me something important, he thought. He likes it a lot when Dean taught him about stuff. Like that time he taught me how to make loops with my shoe laces!

"The leaving room?" he asked, trying to see why anyone would want to leave anything in the room. It's so dirty, eww.

His brother chuckled. "No, Sam, it's the LIVING room. Living, not leaving."

"Right," Sam nodded, though he didn't really quite understood what his brother meant. "What's a living room?"

"Well, I'm not sure why they call it that, really," Dean admitted. "But if I would live in any part of the house, I would live here."

"But why Deanie?"

"It has television and a couch. What more could you need?" his brother responded.

"Oh."

Dean steered him then to the next room. Sam saw a table with old tall chairs and a sink with rusty pots and pans. "Now Sammy, I think you know what room this was."

Sam smiled. He knew the answer to his brother's question. "Ms. Dizon told us what it was when she read us a story. It's the kitchen, right Dean?" His smile grew wider as Dean nodded.

"Dean?" he asked, looking up to his brother's face.

"Hmm?"

"Did Daddy clean up his stuff before here too?"

"No, Sammy, he didn't. We used to eat here, though," Dean replied, smiling sadly. "Mom made great pancakes here, before…"

Sam saw his brother shake his head, as if trying to shake off the memory. "Well, enough of this musty kitchen," Dean said, changing the subject. "Let's go upstairs!"

His eyes widened. "Our house has rooms upstairs?"

Dean laughed at his reaction. "I know, it's sounds crazy right? We actually had our own rooms, Sammy."

If it was possible, his eyes went bigger. "Our own rooms? Really, Deanie?"

"Yeah, one for me and one for you. Mom and Dad also had theirs, of course."

Sam could hardly believe it, and he looked up the staircase with great excitement, fear already forgotten. "Whoa." he said simply, earning another chuckle from his brother.

Dean then clutched Sam's hand, leading him to the staircase. "C'mon, there's a specific room you have to see."

Sam eagerly followed, holding Dean's hand. Together, they climbed up the wooden stairs into a small hallway.

Sam counted the doors with his index finger. "There are four rooms, Dean!" He showed Dean his four fingers happily, just like what they did in school.

"Of course there are four rooms. This one was Mom and Dad's," Dean gestured to the one on the right. "That was the bathroom and the other one beside it was my room" he continued, pointing to the other two rooms on the left.

Sam stared at the remaining door on the right. "How about that one?"

Dean looked at Sam then looked back at the unnamed door. He then led Sam towards the remaining room and twisted the doorknob to open it.

Sam smiled at the sight before him. He stepped further inside, noting the light color and stuff toys adorning the walls. In the middle of the room was a white crib with something swirling above it. He turned and looked at his older brother in question.

"That's a mobile, Sammy," Dean replied to his silent query. He turned back to look at the crib again. It's beautiful, he thought. Just like in my dreams…

Sam suddenly felt something wet hit his head from above. He thought he imagined it, but he felt another drop on his forehead. Curious, he felt his forehead with his right hand. His eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw his fingers come away wet with something red. Naturally, he looked up to find the source.

Sam gasped and stepped backwards in fear at what he saw. The entire ceiling was soaked in red, and he was sure it was not paint. It was the same red that welled up on his knees when he fell and scraped it the other week at the school playground. Blood!

He felt himself stop as his back came to rest on his brother, who was still standing by the door. He saw the blood start to drip at the corners of the room.

"Dean?" he asked fearfully, turning and looking up at his brother in alarm.

His older brother looked at him too, and he was shocked to see Dean's grim face directed at him. For a moment Sam forgot the bleeding walls, startled at the anger radiating from his sibling.

"This was your room, Sam," Dean said, face full of contempt. "This was where you killed Mom."


The pain registered first before understanding dawned on John. The sudden crushing weight on his chest hindered him from breathing, making him gasp and choke, trying in vain to catch the breath he was not expecting to lose. He could hear Dean shouting frantically beside him, and he turned his head to look at his eldest with his wavering vision. He looked back down at his youngest as he struggled with all his might to break free from the immense pressure in his upper body.

Sam was still standing in front of them and was still staring up at them with those creepy black eyes that looked just so wrong on his baby boy's normally sweet face. He had his right hand extended out, palm facing them. The demon-possessed man still stood behind his youngest, but this time he had his hand grasping Sam's outstretched arm.

"Do you see that Samuel?" the demon asked. "See how he can't breathe when you push like that?"

He smiled when his young charge nodded. He then removed his guiding hand and said, "Now let me see you do it yourself."

Dean watched in horror as his brother continued to suffocate their father, hand outstretched and a small smirk gracing his lips. "Sammy, stop it! You're killing Dad!" he begged. His father's face was slowly turning blue. "Stop it right now!"

But his little brother seemed unfazed by his pleas, and only looked at Dean blankly before shifting his gaze back to their father.

The demon's laugh echoed in the small classroom. He then bent down and hugged Sam from behind, lowering his arm. "That's enough Samuel", the demon said, ruffling the little boy's hair. "Good boy."

John coughed harshly, trying his best to recover his regular breathing pattern after the impromptu choking he endured. The force Sam has exerted without the demon's guidance was not as strong as the initial pressure he had felt, but it still hurt nonetheless.

"Dad, you okay?" Dean worriedly asked before sighing in relief when his father nodded while taking huge gulps of air. He then glared at the demon, who was now staring at them with amusement as he wrapped one arm across Sam's shoulders in a possessive gesture.

"That was very good, Samuel," the demon murmured in his brother's ear. "A little more practice and we can crush people's rib cages in no time." He wiped Sam's nose with his hand as another small trickle of blood fell from the kid's nostril. "Hmn," he frowned slightly, wiping the blood on his jeans. "Make that a lot of practice time."

He then turned his yellow orbs on the elder brother shooting daggers at him with his stormy green eyes.

"What's the matter Dean?" the demon teased. "Isn't this what you wanted? For Sam to show his true self so you and your father can get rid of him like you want to do to me?"

Dean frowned and he can clearly see his father's confusion as well from the corner of his eye. "What are you saying? We only destroy evil things like you. Sam isn't evil and I don't want to get rid of him, no matter how annoying he can get!"

The demon-possessed man's eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Oh I'm sorry," he said while smirking. "I thought it was you, but it was actually the other Dean who feels that way."

"What do you mean other?" Dean asked in confusion. Turning to his father, he asked, "Dad, what does that mean?"

"It means," John responded grimly, "that he has Sam's mind trapped somewhere, and he's impersonating you to get to your brother."

The demon clapped. "Bravo, John! You nailed it right on the head. I guess Samuel's brilliance also has to come from your side of the family."

Dean scoffed. "That was your brilliant plan?" he asked, smirking despite his fear. "I think Sam knows me better than you think. He may be little, but he's too smart to fall for that. He'll know it isn't me."

The demon quirked one of his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked sardonically. "Funny, that's what your father also said earlier."

He stepped from behind Sam and walked until he was almost face to face with Dean.

"Tell me, Dean-o", he asked. "If Sam really knows you enough, why, pray tell, is he sporting a new look?"

Dean swallowed, unable to reply, yet still stared at the demon defiantly. "Just what are you making Sam do with your impersonator, huh? Get him to go with you? Well, I won't let you take him."

"Oh, he's already done that. Hence the new set of eyes," the demon said haughtily. "Sam will follow anything Dean says, and I thank you, John, for that." He then stepped back and stood behind Sam, who was still staring blankly at them with his dark eyes. "I don't know how you did it, but Samuel here takes your words as truth, Dean. It's amazing really, the level of trust and faith he has in you."

The demon then bent down and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and continued, "And with your words, Sam will be mine completely. I will tell him his true nature and purpose, and he will accept it as the truth. Because his dearest Deanie said so."

"Sam would know it isn't me," Dean declared, sounding braver than he actually felt. "And you can't exactly keep him zonked like that," he continued, jerking his head towards his brother's blank stare.

"True," the demon conceded, "I cannot keep Samuel inside my mind mojo forever. But as long as he stays zonked, as you eloquently put it, his abilities are mine to control. And by the time he wakes up, I would have already disposed both of you, and I can take Sam under my wing. It wasn't what I originally planned, but seeing things as they are now, I changed my mind."

John paled at the demon's words. Just like what Missouri said before…

Beside him Dean was also reeling at the revelation. Abilities? Wait, the spoon bending is coming from Sam?

As if reading their mind, the demon smiled at him knowingly. "I did say that Sammy's a special little boy, right?"

"Damn you!" Dean hissed. "Get away from my brother!"

"Ah, I am already damned, Dean Winchester," the demon replied simply. He looked down at Sam. "Samuel?"

Sam looked up, eyebrows slightly raised in question.

"It's time for your next practice."

Sam smiled and raised his hand towards his family, his black orbs twinkling in mischief.


Sam could only stare as Dean slowly advanced on him and the scowl on his sibling face made him step backwards.

"W-what?" he stammered.

"You heard me," Dean replied, before grabbing him by his arm and dragging him towards the center of the room.

Sam struggled, trying his best to remove his brother's firm grip, but his small frame was not enough to overcome his sibling's strength. "Dean, you're hurting me! Get off me!"

But his brother continued to drag him under the bloodied ceiling and Sam gasped in pain as Dean suddenly pushed him towards the crib. Surprised, he had to use his arms to brace himself and avoid hitting the crib head on. He turned back towards his brother, trying his best to stand up. "But I didn't kill Mom, Daddy said---"

"Who do you think the demon was after, huh, Sam?" Dean said, cutting his explanation short. "Who do you think is the reason why Mom was burned alive?"

Sam shivered at his brother's words. No, it can't be true, he thought frantically. "Why are you being mean to me Deanie? I didn't do nothing to Mommy!"

Dean towered above him and Sam couldn't help but cower. I've never seen him so angry before, he thought, hands reaching backwards to try and grasp the crib to right himself up.

But before he could even do that, his older brother suddenly wrenched the mobile hanging above the crib and snapped one of its branches off. Sam watched in fear as Dean threw away the rest of the ruined device and looked down on him, hand grasping the branch like a stake and poised to strike.

"It's time to put you on time-out Sammy," Dean announced, his hand swinging down with the plastic branch towards Sam, aiming straight for his heart.


If you have the time, feel free to leave a review! Thanks! ----Tari