Weaver, chapter 11

Dean fidgeted some more and ejected the Zeppelin tape in favor of Kansas, not either of their first choices. His brother had apparently forgotten his own rule about who picked the music, but Sam didn't really care. He wasn't really listening to the music anyway. There was too much blood rushing in his ears, and too many thoughts about what exactly might happen when he slept again. He knew what. Kansas was rapidly swapped out for AC/DC. He thought maybe Dean kept messing with the tape deck so he'd stay awake.

"I'm just not sure," Sam blurted, surprising himself.

"About what?"

"What I'm supposed to do when I'm dreaming, or how I'm supposed to even know I'm dreaming. I've never been able to tell before."

It was a big flaw in the plan, if they could call it a plan. He knew him going to sleep had to happen, and he knew Dean had his back, but Sam was as scared as he'd ever been. He'd do what it took. He wasn't afraid of dying. He was afraid of dying before he had the chance to find Jessica's killer. He could not die here. He just didn't know how many times he could be revived.

"You know there are no easy answers," Dean said, strained. This was probably as hard on Dean as him. In some ways harder, Sam thought. "It might take you a couple tries before we…you…figure anything out. Maybe you can out think it."

"Out think it." He'd always suspected Dean was a little nuts. "It's a demon."

"Dude, we out think demons all the time."

"Well, I do anyway," Sam said.

Dean smacked him on the shoulder. Sam ducked in reaction, regretting it when the tender throb of his ribs turned to more severe pain. For a second he couldn't seem to catch his breath, which was odd because he really had been feeling better. He frowned. These were familiar feelings.

"Dean, pinch me," he said with a gasp.

"What?"

The same hand that had smacked him now latched onto his shoulder. Sam kept his eyes on the road, concentrating on staying between the yellow and white lines. It was harder than it should have been.

"Pinch me. I need to know if I'm awake."

"You're awake. I'm not letting you fall asleep when you're driving my car."

"Just do it, okay?"

"Okay." Dean moved his hand down and grabbed an inch of bicep, squeezing tightly. "But you're crazy, you know."

"Ow."

That should have reassured him, but he still couldn't breathe very well. Dean leaned closer to him, bringing his face right up next to Sam's. Sam tried to regulate his breathing, but no matter what he did he couldn't quite get enough useable air into his lungs. Tiny dark spots flitted across his vision, and he slowed the car and drove it onto the shoulder. He put it in park. This didn't make sense. There was nothing…he looked at Dean, recoiled when he saw his brother's eyes had been replaced by swirling black.

"Of course you realize that even if you were dreaming, you could just dream me pinching you," Dean said with casual charm, but it wasn't quite Dean's voice.

"Dean…" he said uneasily, though he suspected it wasn't really his brother.

"Sam!"

He started shaking uncontrollably, violently. Another memorable sensation. Sam watched Dean's face morph into something else, skin tone changing color to pale blue-grey. He tried to recoil, but couldn't.

"Sam, snap out of it."

Dean sounded like Dean, and he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so Sam did. Well, he didn't snap so much as groggily surface. It was déjà vu all over again. Dean was practically on top of him. Sam lifted his head slowly, shifted his body. His left knee connected with something hard. He blinked and looked down blearily. He was still behind the steering wheel…oh, shit.

"Oh, shit," he choked out.

"You can say that again," Dean said gruffly, like he was angry, but Sam knew better.

Sam sat up straighter, wincing. The jarring motion Dean had just unleashed on him had reawakened the pain. He'd lied before about not needing painkillers, and now he needed them even more. Sam glanced around. Somehow Dean had managed to get the car off the highway and onto the side of the road.

"I don't understand. I was driving. I wasn't…I didn't go to sleep."

"Yeah, well, beg to differ." Dean relaxed slightly and moved out of Sam's space. "One second I'm looking for new music, the next the car's veering off the road and you're zoned."

Dean's jaw clenched three or four times in succession. That was bad. Very, very bad. Sam shook his head. It was possible the succubus or whatever the hell it was somehow knew they were on to it, and it had changed its MO, but Sam couldn't quite make himself believe that it wouldn't simply escape and find a new dreamer to feed off of. Part of him wondered if it was bound to the host until it was all over. He shivered. And if the car had crashed…

"I could have killed you," Sam said. "God."

He fumbled for the door handle. It took him several attempts before he managed to get the door open, and then he half slid, half stumbled from behind the wheel. The morning air was cool, and with the adrenaline now coursing through him, helped clear his head. Sort of. He walked to the front of the car and slouched down on the hood. Dean wasn't far behind him, sitting next to him.

"Me? It's not me you should be worried about, Sammy," Dean said softly and slapped him on the arm just as softly. "Come on, get back in the car. We should keep going."

Just like that, Dean was able to shake it off and get back on track. Sam wished he could do the same. They were in the middle of nowhere, and now this thing could happen at any time, whether he was awake or asleep. He had no control. He didn't know how they'd ever thought he'd be able to fight it within the dreams. Dean stood up and started around to the driver's side.

"Dean," he said. "Aren't you scared?"

Sam expected the pat "no" answer to roll off his brother's tongue. He looked up when no response at all came, and caught Dean staring at him. His eyes weren't swirling and black, but they were still haunted. Then Dean gave him a lopsided, unhappy smile.

"Of course I am." Funny how the truth didn't make Sam feel any better. "But fear won't get us anywhere. Come on. Get in the car."

For a panicky second, Sam thought he could be dreaming again. There was no transition with this, no skittering or overlaying of reality and vision, no headache. He searched Dean's face, looking for any clue it wasn't really him. Dean raised his eyebrows and gesticulated for him to get in the car already. Sam eased off the hood and walked over to the passenger door. Even if he was dreaming, there wasn't much else he could do.

"Don't worry, Sam. I'm not going to let you sleep until we're in a more controlled environment."

Sam swore Dean had told him that before, but he didn't know if it had been during a dream or in reality. Either way, the reassurance wasn't anything more than words; he didn't think Dean had the power to prevent him from sleeping. It was almost like the demon was aware of what went on while he wasn't dreaming, and was exerting more influence on him. If that were true, he couldn't really bring it up to Dean, who might not be Dean anyway and even if he was the demon succubus thing was listening in so it wasn't like it could be a secure conversation. God, he was going crazy. Sam ran a hand through his hair and slid into the car gently. He looked at Dean and then looked away. And then did it again.

"Spit it out," Dean said as he rolled the car back onto the highway.

"What?"

"I need to know every detail upfront from now on, Sam."

"I'm just not sure," Sam said, repeating the words he'd spoken in his dream. He shouldn't have. They just made him doubt even more what was real. "What if it could know what we talk about somehow?"

"What would make you think that?"

"I…" Sam cleared his throat. He held out his left arm. "Hey, Dean. Pinch me."

"I'm not pinching you, freak," Dean said, no hesitation. As soon as he heard that, Sam knew that was exactly what Dean was supposed to say. "Pinch yourself. You're awake."

"That's what you said the last time," Sam said with a mildly hysterical laugh. "But then you weren't you."

"Tell me what that means, Sammy."

He had to keep track of the Sammys, he thought. The more often Dean used that stupid nickname, the more concerned he was. If life were a poker game, Dean's tell would be obvious to any idiot. He closed his eyes briefly. Again, he had no choice. He was almost sure he was, in fact, awake, but even if he wasn't, there wasn't much else he could do. He just had to be and hope that was right.

"I think it makes dreams fluid with reality so I have no way of knowing when it's all going to hell. It's like a shock. It must thrive on that more than the dreams themselves."

"And…"

"And this time it used your face instead of Bloody Mary's. Or it would have if you hadn't woken me up. It was so real until it wasn't."

"This just keeps getting better and better," Dean said.

It felt to Sam as though the demon was accelerating its attacks the same way Dean stepped on the gas and drove that much harder. That made sense to him, the only thing that did amid the confusion in his brain. None of the reports had given any clue that the victims had suspected what was really happening to them. It was possible the demon hadn't revealed itself to them or it did and they didn't put the pieces together.

"I still don't know what exactly I'm supposed to do while I am dreaming, especially if I still don't know that I am. I haven't got any useful information so far."

"That's what I want."

Sam wasn't sure he'd heard that right. His heart started racing anyway, and his skin prickled. He stole a look at Dean, hoping to observe his brother unnoticed. Dean looked right back at him, ignoring the road. The gaze was suffocating, hypnotic. Dark. Sam tried to break eye contact and couldn't.

"Dean, uh, maybe you should watch the road," he said.

"Nah," Dean said, but Sam swore his lips didn't move. And then Sam couldn't move his lips, either. He could barely move anything. He couldn't breathe. "I don't think there'd be much fun in that. Sammy, you need a stronger sense of adventure."

Sam tore his eyes away from Dean's abnormally darkened orbs. It came out of nowhere, a large animal – deer? – and he tried to shout, to get whatever had taken his brother's place to stop the car or swerve or anythinganything but it was useless. The car impacted the animal at full speed and Sam was crushed against the dashboard. There were flashes of light and dark and chaos and he couldn't breathe. And then there was nothing at all.

A/N: That's it for tonight. I'm exhausted after a long day of work - personally, I think work should be outlawed. Thank you for those who've given me reviews, they're lovely to hear!