Chapter 10: Dean's Vision

"Well, that was just a little weird," Sam commented once they were in the hotel room.

Dean placed the picture that Jessica had drawn on the table and proceeded to take off his jacket. Sam could tell by the far-off look in his eyes that he was lost in thought.

"She said something pulled Emily into that well," he mused.

"The well must be a gateway of some sorts, like the girls said," Sam replied.

Dean glanced at Sam as he sat down on the bed across from his younger brother.

"When I was trying to get you out of the well, I felt like something was trying to pull me down with you," Dean told him, "but it was really after you the whole time."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Mrs. Hoffkins told me to watch you, that because of your abilities, you'll be the one it goes after."

"Whatever It is," Sam muttered. "Do you think... Dean, do you think that the same demon who killed Mom killed that woman's mom, too?"

"Yeah, I think so," Dean replied without hesitation, "but who would have thought that an ability like that could continue along the bloodline?"

Great, Sam thought, So my kids might be freaks, too.

"Why did you ask if they had a history of twins?" Sam wondered out loud.

"I don't know," the older Winchester replied, "It just seemed important for some reason. Think about it."

Sam nodded. "I read somewhere that in cases like this, sometimes a psychic's power is so strong that it can't be contained within one person. Do you think that's why she had twins? To divide the power?"

"That's the best theory I've heard so far," Dean answered with a shrug.

"But we still haven't figured out something."

"What's that?"

"Who's summoning the spirits?"

"I thought you said I was drawing conclusions from nothing," Dean replied with a raised eyebrow.

"You were drawing conclusions from your intuition," San answered, "and I trust that."

"Maybe we should go back to the train station again," Dean suggested.

"I'd like to get another look at that well," Sam answered, "Maybe get an EMF reading."

Dean frowned at that idea. "I think that if anyone should go back to the well, it should be me."

"Why?"

"Dude, you heard what that woman said," Dean argued, "It's after people like you! I'll be in less danger."

"I can come, too. You don't need to go there alone."

"Sam, I can't protect you all the time!" Dean snapped, "As much as I want to, I can't."

Sam's eyes narrowed at the comment. Was Dean calling him a burden?

"I never asked you to protect me," he said softly.

"I didn't mean it like that, Sammy."

"It's Sam," the younger brother snapped.

"Listen, it's just-" Dean began, but was cut off as Sam continued.

"Dean, I'm sorry if you think that I'm a burden and that you have to protect me all the time, and I'm sorry if it bothers you. But I can take care of myself!"

"Sam," Dean said softly, "I would die for you. Not because you asked, just because I would. And you are not a burden. Try to understand. The same reason you don't want me to go alone is the same reason I don't want you there at all: I'm afraid you'll get hurt. It's not that I think I have to protect you, it's that I want to protect you. It's a brother thing, man, and I'm sorry if it makes me a bad brother, but I can't help it."

"No, I understand," Sam replied, feeling guilty for starting an argument.

"I'm just scared," Dean continued, "That I'll turn my back for a second and something might go wrong."

Sam smiled.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You are such a friggin' softy it's hilarious."

"I'm not a softy," Dean replied hotly, "I'm a big brother."

Sam sighed. "So, you're going to Free Hope and I'm going to the station?"

"Yeah, but tomorrow," Dean answered, "It's getting late. Let's grab some dinner, than crash."
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He's standing at the church in the moonlight, looking in the trees to the path that leads to the well. The trees look dark and menacing in the starlight and they seem to close in around them as he makes his way slowly down the path. The night is so quiet, but there's something, some kind of energy, in the air.

"Dean..."

He's not surprised to hear his name. He's heard it called a lot lately. But one thought is troubling him.

Isn't Sammy supposed to be the one with the weird dreams? he wonders.

But he's there now, standing in front of the old well. It seems to whisper to him, to beckon him, with a voice filled with the wisdom of the ages.

He can't tell if the place feels good or evil. Maybe it's just neutral from all the spirits that pass in and out of this place.

"Dean."

He turns at the sound of her voice, the girl who he knows now as Emily.

"Emily," he calls out to her.

She shakes her head. "No, Dean. Listen."

He expects her to keep talking, but she doesn't, so he assumes she wants him to hear something else. He turns his ears to the trees around them, straining to pick up something. He hears his own heartbeat, his breathing, and beyond that he hears.. Voices. A chorus of voices.

"They're calling from the gateway," she says, "Calling for someone to let them out. My sister and I tried to help them, but we failed. Now someone else is trying to summon them."

"Who?" Dean asks "I need to know who."

"The spirits in that well are neither good or evil," she continues, ignoring his question," They only want their freedom, So they've been gathering power through the lives of people like your brother. That's why you cannot bring him here."

"Emily, tell me who is summoning the spirits!" Dean insists, walking towards her and grabbing her forearms, looking into her green eyes. "Please, I can stop this if you tell me!"

"You're in her way," the girl says, turning her eyes away from Dean. "She'll kill you first and then feed your brother to the spirits to free them. She's powerful; I don't know if you can stop her."

"Who is she, Emily?" Dean urges softly.

"She's watching!" the girl hisses "I cannot tell! She'll know and she'll come for me, and I'm afraid!"

Dean bites his lip in frustration." Just give me some sort of clue, please. For my and my brother's sakes. If you want to help us you have to tell me."

"Under the willow tree!" she shrieks, "She's hides them under the willow tree!"

"Emily, please, tell me what I need to know! She won't hurt you. I promise! I won't let her." Dean says frantically.

"The well, Dean, the well!"

He turns as he hears a noise behind him, a growl slowly becoming a roar. He sees the well and suddenly the soft chorus of voices inside becomes loud, almost deafening.

"She's trapped, Dean, and you're the only one who can pull her out!" the girl shouts above the roar.

"Pull who out?" he asks.

"Emily!"

He looks at the girl in confusion. This is Emily.

"I don't understand!"

She only points to the well. He walks over to its edge to peer inside. But then he feels a hand grab him and pull him forward. He grips the side of the stone well to keep from falling in, but the tug grows stronger. He holds on with everything he has, but it's not enough. There are too many hands trying to pull him in. He feels himself ripped into the blackness, and then he is falling, and he hears the girl shouting his name...
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"Dean!"

The older Winchester awoke with a crash as he fell from the hotel bed.

"Dean!" he heard Sam's voice and groaned as he struggled to untangle himself from the blankets.

"Ow," he mumbled as Sam gave him a curious look. "What are you staring at?"

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, helping his brother up off the floor.

"I'm fine. Sorry I woke you up."

"I wasn't a sleep," Sam answered, giving his brother an odd look as he sat across from him. "Did you just have a nightmare?"

Dean looked up and noticed the smile struggling not to make itself seen on Sam's lips. He glared at the younger man.

"Yeah, well if you had been asleep, Miss Emily Rose would've visited you instead, so I wouldn't be laughing."

Sam instantly became serious. "What'd she say?"

"Nothing useful," Dean grumbled, "Why were you awake?"

"I just couldn't sleep," Sam admitted, "So I was doing more research."

"Oh, our culprit's a girl," Dean said, "Couldn't get a name, though, sorry. And she said something else that I can't figure out."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"She told me to pull Emily from the well."

Sam frowned. "So she wants us to pull her spirit from the well. Why is that so unusual?"

"Because, Sam. How can she be in the well if she's been with us the whole time?"