A/N: So sorry about the delay in posting – it has been over a week! Life just got really busy with school starting up etc… I'll get the next chapter up more quickly, I promise :-)

A/N: The episode 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' wasn't overly specific on how the whole dreamroot thing works so I took a few liberties with the technicalities. Hopefully I haven't contradicted anything the show established :-)

CHAPTER 9

Sam gulped the foul-tasting water down, scrunching his eyes shut in an attempt to help control his gag reflux. By the time he opened them, Dean was gone and he was alone in the room.

Wait a minute…

Dean couldn't move that fast. And Tasha was gone too, the adjacent bed empty and unrumpled.

Had the dreamroot worked? Was this a dream?

His question was answered by a cry from just outside the motel door that was unmistakably Tasha's. He was on his feet in an instant and reached the door in three of his giant strides, yanking it violently open.

It wasn't the motel parking lot on the other side. Instead, Sam found himself standing in the front door of a spacious, straw-built beach house, the gentle rumble of the ocean's waves crashing in the background and the warmth of the bright sun on his back. It was a nice, homey place, with lots of tropical plants and wicker furniture. There was a doll in a pink dress propped up on the couch next to a stuffed donkey. Sam barely noticed these things, however, as his eyes fell immediately on Tasha, who was crouching next to the bloody remains of a woman lying on the straw mat in the middle of the floor.

"Mommy! Mommy!" she was sobbing, and it occurred to Sam she sounded young, almost childlike, though she still looked her real age of twenty-four. He stepped inside the room towards her but stopped short when a deep voice snapped his attention away from the heart wrenching scene before him.

"Well, well," said the voice and Sam's fists clenched when he noticed Sheldon Weike standing at the edge of the room. "I expected the other dude," the dreamwalker continued in an almost jovial tone. "I got the impression she was with him." He glanced towards Tasha and back to Sam with a smirk.

"You bastard," was all Sam's blinding anger allowed him to mutter as he lunged for the dreamwalker. His fist swung too far when Sheldon vanished into thin air and Sam stumbled to regain his balance. The student reappeared instantaneously a few feet away, his chest heaving with sadistic laughter. The hunter immediately swung again but Sheldon Star-Trek'd his way out of range once more.

"Your pugilistic prowess might win you fights in redneck bars," he gloated. "But that won't do you any good in here - with me."

"You're not God, Sheldon," Sam seethed, realizing he was going to have to take control of the dream to have any chance against this guy. He wasn't sure what to do but he started by trying to focus on getting a mental grip on the surroundings. His concentration was interrupted by the sound of a man coming up the steps outside to the front door.

"Erin, honey, we're home!" the newcomer called cheerfully as the tip of his shadow appeared in the doorway. "You shoulda seen Tash," he called with a laugh. "Three days in Yosemite and she was rock-climbing like a pro." Fair-haired and blue-eyed, the man in his early thirties looked nothing like Tasha but Sam had no doubts that this was Brian Malick. The young hunter saw the man's smile drop into a gaping expression of horror when he noticed his daughter kneeling on the floor next to what remained of his wife.

"Nooo!" he cried, dropping the travel bag he carried and rushing forward, wrapping his arms around Tasha's sobbing form and pulling her away from the bloody corpse. He seemed oblivious to the two other men in the room.

Sam recognized the emotion that was displayed on the man's face. He had experienced that very same anguish himself less than three years ago when he had seen the girl he loved burning on the ceiling above him. He had a personal understanding of what his own father had gone through after Mary Winchester had been killed before his eyes and felt a sharp pang of sympathy for this man, even if he wasn't real.

"You bastard," Sam repeated to Sheldon, again trying to seize control of the dream but having difficulty connecting to anything. It wasn't like he had any real experience at this; he'd only done it once and wasn't sure how he had even managed it then.

"Oh-hoh!" Sheldon laughed in a mocking tone. "Are you seriously trying to take the dream from me? Let me give you a hint, you pathetic amateur. You need something to work with, something specific – you're grabbing at emptiness."

Sam realized Sheldon was right. He knew nothing about the cocky bastard to pull on; with Jeremy he'd had a mental image of the guy's abusive father from the mugshot Dean and he had dug up. He decided to shift his concentration instead to Tasha. After all, it was her dream. Surely he could end the dream the same way Sheldon had started it. "Leave her alone, you twisted fuck," he seethed through gritted teeth.

Sheldon laughed again. "Leave her alone? I'm not even doing anything yet," he gloated. "This is pretty much a straight memory. Usually I have to poke around for something even remotely dark enough to have fun with," he pointed to Tasha who had her head buried in her father's chest. "But this chick's head is a freaking buffet of fucked-up shit!"

Sam reached out with his mind towards Tasha's, having no idea how he knew what to do. He identified the exact moment he got inside when a rush of emotions hit him that he instinctively knew weren't his. He drew back with a start but pushed back in as soon as he figured out that the memories in her head must be sorted or distinguished by emotion. There was a crazy mass of swirling thoughts and feelings bombarding his consciousness, the dizzying speed and intensity of them turning his stomach and making him nauseous. He flailed around for a few seconds in her mind before he managed to slow them down and start to identify them individually. A bout of fear struck him, followed by an uncontrollable urge to laugh, then the pain of extreme cold, then a sense of fun and happiness.

He quickly latched on to the fun rush as it hit him, pulling at it and somehow hauling it to the forefront of Tasha's mind. Everything around him began to shimmer and he closed his eyes for a second, opening them when he suddenly felt a light breeze on his face.

He was standing on the top of a mountain. The vegetation and astounding view of a village a mile below suggested a third world country and Sam guessed Peru or Chile. There was a narrow, rocky path and he heard Tasha laugh as she floated up into view. It took a second for Sam to realize she was riding a donkey. Her father appeared on another right behind her.

"Well I'll be damned, Gigantor's a quick study," Sheldon quipped from where he stood fifteen feet away, the arrogance in his voice grating on Sam's nerves.

"You just wait and see what I can do," Sam threatened, balling his fist and getting ready for a fight.

"Hey Sam," Tasha greeted him cheerily, pulling the rope around her donkey's neck to bring him to a halt a few feet from the hunter. "What are you doing here?"

"You on a hunt, Winchester?" her father chimed in, addressing Sam as if they'd known each other for years.

"Uh, no Sir," Sam stammered, thrown a little by the fact that they could see him. They hadn't noticed him in the previous dream. He'd forgotten how freaky dreams could be.

"You ever been in Peru, Sam?" Tasha continued, smiling as if everything was normal. "There's a little village up the top of this mountain where they make charms that can ward off all sorts of supernatural nasties, including vampires." She looked over at Sheldon and squinted. "Who's your friend?"

Sheldon laughed. "Your worst nightmare, bitch."

Suddenly the fresh air was gone, as were the mountain, the donkeys, and the stunning view. Sam cursed himself for not keeping control long enough to take out Sheldon and reached out to find Tasha's mind again to see if he could pull another fun dream. As he reached out with his thoughts, however, all he found was chaos and was knocked off his feet with a sudden blast of mental force.

"Nice try, grasshopper," he heard Sheldon echo in the distance as he opened his eyes and took in his new surroundings.

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Dean deduced that if Sheldon had drugged Tasha, then the prick was planning on taking the dreamroot soon and therefore couldn't be that far away. Since he would surely know not to go home, he must have somewhere else he could go to sleep. A friend's place maybe, or a relative's. He called Professor Kogen to see what she could find in the University's files but they had 'no family' listed under 'emergency contact'. His next option was the family who rented out the basement apartment to the bastard.

He pulled the Impala up to the curb and shut her off, observing the house for a few seconds before getting out. It was just as it had been an hour ago when Tasha had gone to the door and asked about Sheldon. All the lights downstairs were off and the colorful flickering of the TV could be seen through the big bay window upstairs. He threw his suit jacket on over his t-shirt, not wanting to waste the time to fully change, and strolled boldly up the walk.

A man in his mid to late forties answered his sharp knock on the door, presumably the father of the household. Dean flashed an FBI badge that identified him as Special Agent Bonham and explained that he needed to find Sheldon Weike immediately. The man admitted that Sheldon lived downstairs but that a girl had stopped by earlier and Sheldon hadn't been home then. They hadn't seen him since.

A woman Dean assumed was the man's wife came up behind the man, curious to know what the FBI wanted with Sheldon because he was 'such a nice boy.' Dean stifled a snort. "We just need to ask him a few questions, Mam," he said politely. "But we need to find him now." A teenage girl poked her head around the corner just down the hall behind her parents and Dean spoke up so she could hear him as well.

"He must have some friends or someone that he could be visiting?" he pressed. "He can't spend all his time in his apartment."

"I'm sorry, I don't know of anywhere," the man said apologetically.

"Sometimes he stays at the school," the girl spoke up, still just peeking around the corner. "Sometimes he stays there all night."

"What was that?" Dean asked her directly. "Where at the school?"

"Probably in one of the dorms," the man shrugged.

"No, he hates the kids at the dorms," the girl continued, growing slightly bolder and taking a few steps down the hallway. "He says they're all douchebag jocks and snotty bitches."

"Chelsea!" her mother admonished, giving Dean an embarrassed smile.

"No, please," Dean waved a hand to dismiss the mother's rebuke. "Chelsea, where at the school?" he repeated.

She shrugged. "I don't know, I'm sorry.

The family had no more specific information so Dean left, swallowing his anger and fear long enough to thank them politely and tell them to call him right away of they saw or heard from their tenant. The college was a huge campus and he knew there was little chance he'd find Sheldon without narrowing his search a little further. He could think of one more place to try but it wasn't going to be easy.

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It was nighttime and it was dark. Sam was on his knees in a building that seemed old and abandoned, perhaps a warehouse or a factory. It was cold, very cold, so he figured it must be winter. He could hear city traffic in the distance but there was no sign of Sheldon or Tasha.

He heard running footsteps of a person – no, more than one person - down the hall and walked quickly towards the noise. He rounded a corner to see a young teenage girl and Brian Malick exiting the hallway through a door just up ahead. He recognized the girl as Tasha and called out to her but she didn't seem to hear. He started running after them and when he followed through the steel door he found himself in a large industrial room filled with old assembly line equipment. He followed Tasha and her father as they dashed around giant pieces of machinery towards the exterior door on the other end of the room. Sam could tell they were fleeing someone or something because they both kept stealing terrified looks behind them, though neither seemed to see Sam.

Just as he almost caught up to them, Tasha's eyes finally connected with his. "Run Sam!" she cried without slowing down, beckoning for him to follow. "He's coming!"

"Who?" Sam yelled back, trying to gain control of the dream but finding it impossible to pull together any decent measure of concentration while he was running. "Tasha, stop for a sec!" he shouted.

She let out a short scream as she and her father came to an abrupt halt, the path in front of them suddenly blocked by a menacing-looking man with an extra row of teeth protruding from his upper gums. He was a handsome guy in his mid twenties and of obvious Hispanic ethnicity and it didn't take Sam more than an instant to surmise this was Diego, the vampire with a grudge that had been hunting Tasha's family for well over a century. It made sense her worst nightmares would include him.

Brian Malick drew a large, twelve inch blade from inside his bulky jacket and inserted himself quickly between the vampire and his daughter. Sam came up to stand next to the young girl, hauling her backwards with a yank on her sleeve. She tried to pull away from him when her father lunged for Diego and a violent fight broke out between them. Sam gripped her arm tightly and tried to get inside her head again. He needed a calm dream again so he could concentrate on killing Sheldon and not have to worry about Tasha being killed in the meantime. If Tasha died in her dream, she died in real life.

"Let me go!" she cried, trying to shake him loose. The hunter noticed she had drawn her knife. In real life, Tasha always had a knife on her, a blade she kept permanently coated in dead man's blood. It didn't surprise him she had it in her dreams too. He simply tightened his grip and pushed his mind forward.

He was met with nothing but chaos and for the second time in a row felt a painful mental blast. His vision exploded but he recovered to see Sheldon standing a few feet away with an annoyed look on his face.

"Uh-unh," the student clucked. "This one's going to be good; I'm not letting you ruin my fun this time."

"You sick freak!" Sam seethed, letting Tasha go in favor of lunging for Sheldon. As he closed the gap between them, he pictured a machete in his hand and didn't even falter in his step when he suddenly felt the solid handle and unmistakable weight of one in his fist.

He was learning – this dream thing wasn't so hard, he thought to himself as he charged forward.

He swung the machete in a smooth downward arc aimed at Sheldon's head but found the blade sharply repelled by a large metal object that suddenly appeared on his opponent's raised arm. It was a shield, he realized, a freaking medieval knight's shield! The clang of metal on metal sent a jolt up his arm and he actually lost his grip on the weapon and it clattered noisily to the concrete floor. He started to envision his 9mm in his hand but heard Sheldon laughing his creepy, insidious laugh before he even felt it appear. The shorter man flickered a few times before solidifying ten feet farther back, the shield gone.

Sam raised his gun and fired rapidly straight at the bastard, aiming center mass. He knew his marksmanship was nearly impeccable and there was no way he had missed, but Sheldon never flinched.

"In here I'm bulletproof, asshole," Sheldon taunted. "I'm whatever I want to be, actually, because this is my world. Why don't you just sit down and enjoy the show."

Sam felt a blow to the stomach, one he never saw coming, and saw the shadowy shape of Sheldon appear before him as he was knocked to the floor. The figure disappeared just as quickly and the hunter was trying to decide what to envision in retaliation when he was distracted by a girl's scream. He spun around, remembering his top priority was to keep Tasha alive. She was almost at the outside door but Diego had just thrown her father through the air, slamming him hard into a large piece of machinery and Sam's heart lurched when he noticed the metal rod protruding from the blond man's shoulder.

"Tash, run!" Brian was yelling, struggling to pull himself off the metal spike. "Run! He's not after me, run damnit!"

Tasha hesitated, anguished indecision plaguing her young face. She still held the blood-coated knife and gave the vampire a fearful glance before meeting her father's pleading gaze.

"Please," Brian rasped, begging his daughter to go. "Run!"

"No," she said, turning towards Diego instead, knife held in an offensive position before her. Sam knew he couldn't reach her in time and in his panic, he forced himself inside her head. He felt the blast coming again and recognized it as Sheldon's doing but this time he swept it aside with a mental projection of his own, clearing the way to Tasha's thoughts again. He sifted through them quickly and grasped one he recognized as peace with hints of love in its peripheral. That would do nicely.

"Bastard!" he heard Sheldon curse as the factory and Diego melted away around them.

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A/N: Again, sorry for the long wait. Next chapter should be up soon, I promise. This is the kind of chapter where a crew of special effects dudes would work their magic and light up the screen but I'm all I've got for FX crew so hopefully it still gave you an exciting visual :-) Reviews are cherished.