Chapter 17

The sun was low in the sky, and nearly all of the light had gone. The sky was dark as the night clouds rolled in, and the crescent moon hung not too brightly in the sky just through the trees of the woods.

All the animal life knew that by the time of day it was that if they stayed out, they would be in danger – so a rush of animals fought amongst each other and ran to their hiding places to bunker down for the night.

The creature would be out soon, and it was almost feeding time.

Suddenly, there was the sound of leaves crunching beneath feet – but the animals knew it wasn't the creature, but a man. He was moving too stealthy for it to be the creature.

That's when the man came into view, a man wearing a brown leather jacket and short choppy dirty blond hair, his green eyes searching through the woods intently with a large rifle held at the ready in front of him.

"Sam!" The man called through the silent woods, his eyes shifting through his surroundings.

"Sammy!" He called again louder.

He was rewarded with a loud growl coming from directly behind him. The man whirled around, aiming his gun into the shadows with a fearful look on his face.

"Come on, Sam!" The man called again, this time sounding desperate, "I know you're not too far gone. We can still fix this!"

Another growl emitted from behind the bushes which was hidden in shadow. The man chanced another step closer, and the Beast didn't approve.

There was a loud roar as the creature lunged from behind the bush and landed directly on top of the man before him, causing his prey to topple over and drop his rifle.

The furry black wolf-like creature held down the man with ease, its sharp claws digging into the man's chest causing him to grunt in pain. It flicked its furry tail and perked its ears with amusement as he looked down at his prey – the man beneath him didn't even attempt to struggle.

"Sam." The man squealed.

The Beast growled again, showing off its impressive set of sharp teeth – though it didn't seem like it was trying to eat the man just yet. No…this thing was toying with his food, first.

"Come on, dude!" The man yelled impatiently, "It's me! Your brother!"

Suddenly the creature roared in his face, showing the man that he was the one in charge and he had no chance of escaping.

The Beast was curious though…this man seemed familiar, and it was bothering him – which was probably the only reason the man was still alive.

Just then, there was the sound of another man coming through the brush as his feet cracked the twigs and dead leaves beneath his feet. The creature's head snapped up, and was suddenly face to face with another man holding a rifle at the ready. This man looked older than the man beneath him, the hair on his head was darker than the hair that was on his face. His face was slightly puffy and shiny signifying that he had been crying, the creature noticed as the tear tracks slid down into his mustache.

The Beast wasn't sure how it knew, being as it couldn't see so many colors as it knew humans could – but if it could see colors, the older man's face would be red.

But the older man seemed familiar too, the Beast noticed with deep frustration as he bared his teeth at the new intruder.

"Dad!" The man beneath him called, sounding slightly winded.

Dad? Brother? Colors? This all seemed to be too much for the creature as it roared loudly showing its frustration. All it wanted to do was eat!

The older man muttered a silent apology as he cocked his gun, and then fired – directly into the Beasts heart.

"SAMMY!" Dean called, as he watched the wolf-like creature which he knew to be his little brother fall away from him into the woods dirt floor in a heap.

xXx

Sam sat bolt up from the desk in Bobby's study where he had fallen asleep, using his crossed arms as a pillow. His tired eyes scraped across the dark room vigorously as he searched for any signs of life around him.

He looked out the window, and noticed that it was still dark out, but on the verge of dawn. So he figured now was a good a time as any to get up and start the day.

Sam stood from his seat slowly and stretched his form, his arms reaching above his head to work the kinks out of his aching spine. He noticed that even the addition to his spine seemed to obey the rest of him as it too stretched itself outward.

When satisfied, and even a little lightheaded – Sam relaxed and made his way to the kitchen where he was sure to find someone.

Sure enough, as Sam rounded the corner - standing in the kitchen with his back against the counter and a cup of coffee in his hands stood Dean. His eyes were red and held deep bags beneath them, clearly showing that sleep was a distant memory to him, even though the clothes he wore suggested he had at least tried.

He wore a simple dark green t-shirt, and dark gray sweat pants. Sam knew that much like himself, Dean didn't wear sweats unless he was sleeping.

"Hey." Dean called halfheartedly before he sipped from the steaming mug in his hands.

"Hey." Sam called back, still giving his brother a good once-over, "Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah, a little." Dean replied, though Sam could tell that he was lying.

Dean looked over Sam quickly, before judging that he looked a little exhausted himself – which he ought to be. "What're you doin' up?"

Sam sighed and offered a half-smile as he pulled a mug out of the cabinet that was above the sink. "I uh…had a weird dream."

Actually, truth be told – Sam wasn't entirely sure if it was a dream or a vision. Sure, usually he only had visions relating to the Yellow-Eyed Demon – but maybe the curse changed that too. He really wasn't sure. But he decided it would be best not to mention that to Dean.

"Well, what was it about?" Dean prodded curiously.

Sam walked over toward where Dean was standing and reached behind him for the half full coffee pot. Once in his grasp, he poured the dark liquid contents into his mug till it nearly spilled over before he placed the pot back on the burner.

He then turned to face his brother looking slightly annoyed before he divulged into his last night's terror – if you could call it that, even. Sam told Dean about the dark wolf-like creature, and about how he then showed up in the dream. He said how he thought that the creature was him, but then it attacked him – but didn't kill him. Then their dad showed up and shot the Beast – ending the dream."

It was silent for a minute after that as Dean sipped his coffee yet again, trying to keep his mouth busy so he couldn't talk just yet.

In old wives-tales, if you die in a dream you wake up – Dean couldn't get that out of his head. If Sam woke up after the creature died…what did that mean? Was it a vision and Sam was just in denial? Dean didn't want to get into it. So instead, he denied it himself as well.

"I'm sure it's just a dream, Sammy." Dean comforted mildly.

Sam nodded before sipping coffee from his own mug in clear discomfort, desperate for Dean to change the conversation.

"So uh…dad told me that you gave the green-flag on the kid hunt..?" Dean spoke up, sounding nonchalant.

Sam closed his eyes against his brothers' words and took in a deep steadying breath. When he thought that he wished Dean would change the subject, he meant anything else that didn't have any relevance to what was going on with him. Hell, he would have even taken 'Nice weather we're having!'

"Yeah," Sam replied as he opened his eyes to glance at his brother, "we're just gonna see if the kid's evil. If not, then I'm not touching him."

Dean shook his head, and brought his mug up to his mouth for another sip. He wanted more than anything for Sam to just kill that kid and get this over with. But he knew he wouldn't, and he was too tired to argue about it right now.

Suddenly the sound of someone's high-pitched ringing cellphone rang through the quiet house from the other room. Sam and Dean turned their heads toward the doorway where the sound was coming from, and sighed with relief when the annoying sound ceased the moment Ellen's voice whispered a rushed and tired greeting.

"Who's calling Ellen at this time of day?" Dean grumbled with an eye-roll.

"Really?" Ellen's surprised voice echoed into the kitchen, catching the boys' attention again, "Hm…poor kid."

Dean and Sam then exchanged curious glances before looking back toward the doorway toward the living room where Ellen's voice was coming from.

"Alright, Ash…thanks."

Then there was the sound of light footfalls, and suddenly Ellen came into the kitchen looking rather tired herself – still in the clothes she wore yesterday, the battered white t-shirt with an open jean jacket over it, and dark denim pants that covered the top of her brown boots.

"So…good news." Ellen announced to the boys, "Ash got wind of the kid. He still lives in Wisconsin, his name's Jeremy Godrick."

"Jeremy?" Sam questioned; his eyebrow quirking in curiosity, "Short for Jeremiah? Like his ancestor?"

"Sounds about right." Ellen replied with a nod, "I uh…got Ash to e-mail me his file. He seems to be quite the troublemaker, but no evidence that he's evil."

"Well what five year old isn't a bit of a troublemaker?" Dean wondered aloud with an eye-roll.

"True." Ellen commented with a nod.

"Where in Wisconsin is he?" Sam pried.

"Uh – Pleasant Springs." Ellen replied.

"Pleasant Springs?" Dean asked with a mirthful chuckle, "Sounds like a retirement home."

"He lives on one-twelve Orchard Road." Ellen continued, ignoring Dean's comment.

"Alright…" Sam muttered with a small nod, "Well, I think we should look at his file first before we go looking for him."

"You're right," Dean agreed as he placed his half empty mug on the counter behind him, "I'll go wake dad up."

Without waiting for a reply, Dean walked out of the kitchen toward the living room where he knew their dad and Ellen had fallen asleep. Ellen of course slept on the couch, which John offered up so he was left to the floor.

And sure enough, upon entering the room was John Winchester sleeping soundly on the floor beneath a thin dark blue blanket with his head resting on his leather jacket.

Dean approached his father carefully; not wanting to end up with his fathers' knife he knew was kept beneath the jacket in his leg.

"Dad!" Dean called in a loud whisper, "Dad, we got something."

At that, John rolled over to face Dean and looked up at his son with bleary eyes. "What's up?"

"We found the kid." Dean informed, a hint of excitement lacing beneath his words.

I'm back! Haha.