Wow, once again I thank you all for the great reviews, and I'm sorry for the length of this update, I don't actually have an excuse this time :(
Anyway, if I didn't reply to any of your reviews, Im very sorry, and I'd just like to take the opportunity to say thanks!
The show must go on, and here is the next chapter, which I HOPE is quite long!
-:0:-
He was cold, so cold, his face pale white. His body lay sprawled, awkwardly, silent, unmoving.
A girl lay beside him, just as lifeless. Just as dead. No! Not dead!
A slight tint of blue graced both lips of them.
They lay, heads bent, twisted towards each other, as thought asleep. Their fingers interlaced softly, drawing strength, comfort, from the touch.
The moonlight shone down bright, purposely unto the two small, lowly figures that it held in its breadth. Its white-silver rays made the air around them unceremoniously sparkle, shimmer.
A loud growling broke the intense serenity of the moment.
A shrill cry rang out from the distance causing the air around the two bodies to vibrate, shake, the glory in the moon's rays vanishing quickly.
The cry was desperate, pleading, sadness lacing it. It was a pained yell, an unforgiving howl, wrenched brutally from the deep of the throat.
"SAMMY!"
"SAMMY!" Dean yelped, gasping as he jerked up straight in his seat he currently occupied. Beads of cool sweat soaked his forehead and his back out cried out in protest of the sudden movement.
He sat, gasping for breath before putting his arms on his knees, his head in his hands and groaning loudly.
God, that dream had been so... real. Sam had been dead. His Sammy, dead!A tear rolled down his cheek silently as he knew that that could well have been the case at that very minute. He sat for a while longer, regaining control over his harsh, heavy breathing.
Standing, he stretched, lifting his arms above his head. Slumping them back down a second later, he made his way across the room, squinting through the dull evening light at the clock on the kitchen wall.
9:26pm.
"Holy crap!" Sam had been gone for 5 hours. It had felt like an eternity.
As much as Dean refused to say it aloud, he loved Sam more than anything in the world. When Sam was hurting, he was hurting, when Sam was happy, he couldn't be more pleased.
And when Sam was gone, he was gone, a mere empty shell of his former self.
"Dean?" his father's voice echoed behind him in the quite of the night, breaking him out of his revere. Dean turned to face him and saw a small pistol lodged firmly in John's hands.
Images of his dream suddenly attacked him, head spinning and he wailed before tearing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and dropping to his knees.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he vomited all the food he had eaten that day. His body began to shake.
Feeling a soothing hand on the nape of his neck, he calmed.
He remembered the man times he had looked after Sam when he had been sick. A certain time had stuck out.
Flashback.
"Dean!" an 11 year old Sam groaned, pushing his brother's hand away from his forehead. "I'm fine!" he insisted loudly, giving Dean the best death-stare that he could, nose running.
Dean gave a humorous laugh and handed his brother a tissue.
"Sure!" he said half-heatedly "What ever you say Mr I-have-a-temperature-of-104.5!" he snorted as Sam groaned.
"Just go away Dean!" he said bitterly, not believing that he was saying it to his brother, the only one that cared about him, and faced away, towards the wall. Dean stopped laughing instantly. "Just go make out with one of your little girl-friends and leave me the hell alone!" Sam spat.
Dean frowned and swallowed hard, taken aback. This was really un-Sammy like. There was something definitely up.
"Sam, I'm not-"
"Just GO already!" Sam yelled, anger creeping into his tone.
"Sam-"
"Go."
"But-"
"Go!"
"Just listen, I-"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Dean recoiled. His brother had screamed. Actually screamed.
He blanched as he saw tears leaking out of Sam's eyes, dripping down his cheeks.
"God Sam, what happened?" he said, going into over-protective-older-brother mode. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he wiped at Sam's face, ridding it of the tears that were cascading down it.
"It-" Sam broke off and took a shuddered breath before continuing quietly. "It was J-James Doggett and his friends they-" he stopped again, wiping his face with his sleeve. "They said that mom was better off dead than having a pathetic, wimpy son like me and I should go die because it would make e-everyone's l-lives better." He rushed and buried his head into his hands, sobbing profusely.
Dean sat, stunned into silence, rage tearing into him. "They are so DEAD!" he yelled in his head, before taking a breath and looking at Sam. He put a hand to the side of his face.
"Sam. Look at me." He said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. Sam didn't move. He tried again in a slightly firmer voice.
"Sam. Look. At. Me." He commanded gently, smiling encouragingly at him when Sam's shaggy head looked up and into his eyes.
"Sam, I swear to God that you mean a hell of a lot more to me than you know. Those kids are stupid, pathetic assholes that won't EVER forget the day that they messed with a Winchester. Now, if you believe a word they said, then you're insane! Sam, I wish that mom were still here everyday and I know in my heart that she would be so gad-damned proud of you. But, just because I wish she were here, doesn't mean I wish you weren't. As for you killing yourself and it making us happier, what kinda bull shit is that? Sam, and even though it pains me to say it- I love you Sammy and if you ever did kill yourself, I would find a way to haul your scrawny ass back and kill you again my self, you hear?" He gave Sam a hard stare, waiting for a reaction.
A few seconds of silence passed and Dean was about to say something again when Sam looked at him, smirking slightly.
"Dude." He fixed Dean with a stare. "You said you loved me." He broke into a grin as Dean grimaced.
"Yeah, and if you ever tell anyone that I did, you will so regret it, bitch." He tried to mask his smile with a glare but failed.
"Jerk." Sam replied happily, smiling back. They stayed that way for a while longer, Dean sitting on Sam's bed, stroking his wrist with his thumb lightly, Sam watching him.
"Get some rest Sam." He looked his baby brother in the eyes and stood up, walking contentedly to the door.
"Oh, and if you ever tell anyone about this chick-lick moment then God help you Sam." With that he switched off the light and stepped out side, shutting the bedroom door behind him.
Sam smiled, unbeknownst to the fact that Dean was pressed against the door, listening.
"I love you too Dean."
End of Flashback.
"Sam was dead, dad." Dean whispered in a monotone voice, not looking at his father, but still hearing the sigh all the same.
"It was just a dream son. Don't worry about it, we will get him back." He smiled encouragingly at Dean who just shrugged in response.
This was going to be a long day.
-:0:-
"Sam, it's so cold." Rachael shivered, scooting closer to Sam and leaning her head against his shoulder. He looked at her apologetically, and then his eyes travelled to his chained together hands.
"Sorry Rachael." He grumbled, head drooping slightly, "It's gonna be ok." He assured her. Sitting in silence, their breathing was their only company.
"Hello sweet children, I'm so bored on my own, how about we play a game?" a voice said, just as gravely, if not more than earlier, shocking them out of their stupor.
They turned to se the man standing as bold as anything out side the room that they had been imprisoned in.
Slowly, he inserted the key into the lock and turned it, effectively opening the door and stepped inside the room.
Sam struggled to his feet, head throbbing wildly and stood in front of Rachael.
"Get back." He murmured to her quietly. She moved backwards. Sam stayed rooted to the spot, drawing up to his full 6"1 and staring plainly into the man's bloodshot eyes.
The he ducked sharply as a metal pipe flew at his face.
Gasping heavily, he jumped to the side as it was the flung at his side.
Suddenly, pain erupted, white hot in his skull. Spots danced in his eyes and he stood against the wall, trying to numb out the screams of his name from Rachael, receiving no such prevail.
He felt the metal again before he saw it smash into his ribs, some surely shattering.
The breath knocked out of him and his stomach bursting in lavishing pain, he slid down the wall, yelling out. The next few minutes passed in a blur.
All he could remember was the pain, the screams.
He lay, curled up in pain, whimpering quietly.
"Say goodbye to your brother Dean."
And his world turned black with a sickening crunch.
TBC.