Well, here is the next chapter. This one is all Sam. I'll probably post another one later as I am always more generous on the weekends (and have more time) lol!! Here goes.

Cindy

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Sam awoke to his head throbbing and he was shivering from the cold. Thankfully he hadn't had another nightmare. He lifted his hands up to his face and saw no sign of the blood spots he had seen earlier. He felt his head and there was no blood there either. 'I'm going crazy,' he thought ruefully. The vividness of the dreams, the phantom pain and blood upon waking. He was beginning to wonder if he was actually having visions of his own death. His death at the hands of a demon, but not the yellow eyed demon. A different demon with red eyes. But why? Why target him? Sam pushed it from his mind, his head hurting too bad to think about it right now.

He felt like crap. Not only was he still in pain from the beating he took, but now the headache and a sore throat were added to the mix. And he couldn't forget the cold. His stomach continued to remind him that it had been several hours since he last ate and his dry mouth screamed for water. Sam slowly rose from the couch, his muscles protesting the move. He began to search the various pockets of his jacket, hoping to find a forgotten morsel he could eat. In the last pocket his fingers touched something and he closed them around it and pulled it out. "Please, please, please," he prayed as he looked down. He had to move his fingers up to his eyes to see what he held. His heart leapt as his prayers were answered. He had never been so happy to see a ten dollar bill as he was at that moment. Finally, something was going his way.

Sam gingerly made his way across the room and entered the filthy kitchen. He looked to the door that led to the basement but decided he would never be able to hoist himself up to and through the basement window in his current condition. He searched for a back door and was rewarded when he went into a narrow hall. The door was boarded up, but with a few good kicks, he was able to partially dislodge the board from the doorframe. He squeezed through the opening then placed the board back into place. He was out of breath and his ribs were screaming for him to lie down. He bent over at the waist as he leaned against the back porch wall and took several deep breaths. His head felt like it was ready to explode and his throat felt like he had swallowed razor blades.

"Great, now I'm sick?" he hissed incredulously to himself.

He didn't want to go out into the cold, but he needed food and water. And aspirin. He remembered a convenience store a ways down from the abandoned house, so he stepped off the back porch into the cold night air. The wind had died down, so it wasn't as cold as when he had come to the house. He headed in the direction he had come, at least he hoped it was the right direction. If he remembered right, the store was about seven blocks from the house. He prayed that it was a 24 hour store. He trudged through the blanket of snow that the earlier storm had laid down, soon realizing he needed new shoes. There was obviously a hole somewhere in his right shoe because his foot was steadily being soaked.

"Shit! What next?" he muttered as he trudged along.

Sam finally came to the store just about the time he feared he had gone the wrong way. "Thank God," he silently said when he saw the store was open. He pushed through the glass doors and the warmth of the air made his ears, nose and cheeks start to tingle. He went to the coolers and began to peruse the deli section. He chose a turkey and cheese sandwich and a microwaveable burrito. He then found the drink cooler and pulled out two small bottles of water. He walked to the counter and put his selections down. He pulled four single dose aspirin packets from a display board on the counter and tossed them in with his other items.

"That'll be $6.24 please," the young store clerk said after ringing up Sam's items.

Sam handed over the ten dollars and waited for his change. The clerk counted out his change into his hand and went back to reading his magazine. Sam walked to the microwave and popped the burrito into it and set the timer. As the burrito heated up, Sam ripped two of the aspirin packets open and popped the pills into his mouth then washed them down with some water. The bell dinged on the microwave so Sam pulled the burrito out and took it and his other purchases to the small table set in a corner at the back of the store.

The bell above the door to the store pealed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Sam barely noticed the sound as he was intent on opening the burrito. He immediately started to stuff the burrito into his mouth, desperate to fill his stomach. As he was shoving the last bite in, he noticed movement to his left. He glanced in that direction and nearly choked when he saw a familiar man eyeing the snack cakes. His hands began to shake and he broke out in a cold sweat. He slowly swallowed the last bite of food, watching the man out of the corner of his eye.

Sam slowly got up from the table and stuffed the sandwich, aspirin and water into his pockets. As he turned to leave the table he came face to face with the new customer. It was the man from Sam's nightmare. For a moment he couldn't breathe and he stood there frozen, staring at the man. The man gave him a curious smile, then made his way down the aisle toward the front counter. Sam watched as he approached the counter and placed his items there. The clerk came to the counter and smiled as he began to ring up the purchases.

"On your way to work Mr. Daly?" the clerk asked, clearly speaking to a regular.

"Yeah. I really hate these nightshifts, but I get paid extra for working them so I really have no choice," the man replied, his voice, the voice from Sam's dream, making Sam nauseous. Sam waited until the man left then watched out the window to see what direction he went. The man climbed into an old VW Rabbit and pulled out of the parking lot, heading east. Sam gave a relieved sigh, grateful the man was going in the opposite direction that he would be heading. His legs were shaking so he once again sat at the table, trying to determine what to do next.

Sam was pretty certain now that his dream was in fact a vision. He was in shock as he had never had a vision about himself before and he was scared shitless. He knew he couldn't fight this demon alone. He had no weapons and his father's journal was with Dean, so he had no exorcisms at hand. He had a few memorized but didn't know if they would work. He thought that he should try to find a ride out of town, but he knew once he had a demon hunting him there was no place safe to run to. It would eventually find him, and as much as he really didn't care what happened to him, he definitely didn't want to die at the hands of a demon. And he certainly didn't want to die the way he did in his vision.

Sam sat for a few more minutes before deciding what to do. He stood up from the table and walked down the aisle, grabbing one more item to purchase. He walked up to the counter and sat the item down. The clerk looked at the item then glanced at Sam, his eyebrow raised. Sam shrugged and flashed a small grin.

"I really like salt," he said as he paid for the bag of salt.

Sam took his remaining change and walked to the payphone near the back of the store. He lifted the receiver and deposited his coins into the coin slot. He dialed a number and waited for the line to be picked up. When the call was answered, he whispered breathlessly,

"I need help...."

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That's it for now. Now that Sam knows he's been having visions, I wonder what he'll do. Guess we'll find out. More later.

Cindy.