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Yeah… today my sis arrived at home again… :D… finally was about damn time…

FLD, :D Yeah… apparently not. Thanks for the review.

bia1007, Thanks so much for reviewing again. Yeah… I guess that story is gonna be darker than planned. :D

sammygirl1963, thanks so much for the review…

Hannah-Ackles, Thanks for reviewing once again.

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Rough awaking

Dean blinked tiredly, his heart was beating fast; he let out a breath, trying to regain his composure again. When he had calmed, Dean looked around. He couldn't remember laying down, but he had definite shifted his position, laying flat on the couch, with Sam close beside him, the young face pressed into his side.

Suddenly he heard a noise from across the room. Without hesitation, Dean reached back to the hidden pistol, pointing it at the dark shadow, which was sitting on the table.

"Who…"

"Dean, kiddo… you're 'wake" John mumbled, obviously drunk. "How are you, boy? How's Sammy? He wasn't sleep-walking again… was he?"

Dean opened his mouth slightly, gently laying Sam down on one of the pillows, so he wouldn't wake up when Dean stood up, walking over to their father.

"What's up dad?" Dean switched a light up, wincing when his father ducked his head, away from the light.

"Oh my god… you're hurt… what happened?" Dean made his way over to his father, taking the paw of his father into his hand, so he could inspect the unprofessional patched up wound on his father's arm.

"You were right, kid…" John let his head fall into his unharmed arm. "It wasn't a Sandman… no it was a Sandman… but that wasn't a Sandman."

"What are you talking about dad?" Dean was frightened.

"I couldn't kill it…" John let out a frustrated cry. Dean looked over to his little brother and like he had expected the boy was wide awake, looking startled. "… I've broken my promise… I've promised to Thomas that I would kill it… but it just vanished… Just vanished."

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. "Dad… where's Thomas?"

When his father not answered Dean knew what had happened. He swallowed down tears, which were forming in his eyes. Sam let out a free sob.

"Dad… we…" He swallowed again… this time a tear escaped his eyes though. He blinked furiously… that wasn't helping.

Thomas was dead. Dean supported his weight on the table, biting his lip… he would just need time before he was fully calmed down… just one minute… than he would bring his father to bed and would talk to his little brother. He wouldn't cry… at least not know… perhaps later before sleeping himself.

"Hey Dean…" John laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "s okay to cry." He cupped Dean's cheek, he knew even drunk that Thomas had been like an uncle to the boys. "Come on…let's go over to your little brother."

Dean fetched the third blanket, while his father sat down beside the youngest Winchester, letting the boy cry into is offered arm, holding him close. Sam's little body was wrecked by sobs.

Dean wouldn't allow himself to break down like that, not when his brother needed him to be strong. He let the third blanket fall over their father's torso, before he sat down on the other side of his brother, his side pressed against his brother's back.

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Letting out a sharp breath, the youth woke up, he had to hold back a sneezing, when something soft tickled his nose. He looked at the weight on his shoulder. Sam was cuddled against him, pale, except for the puffy eyes. John had still an arm around Sam, his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Why did I wake up?

Ahh… phone's ringing…

Neither his little brother nor John wake up, hearing that noise. John because of the alcohol in his blood and Sam didn't care about noises anyway, since he had his brother to look out for him.

Dean leaned over to his father and fished the cell out of his father's jeans-pocket. John didn't even shift.

"Yeah?"

"Is that you, Dean?" The boy would recognize that voice anywhere. Bobby. "Are you okay?"

"What's up?" Dean asked. He didn't bother to answer the question… what should he say? Of course he wasn't okay. "Why are you calling?"

"You're dad asked me to do some research." Bobby stated. "Searching for the thing which killed Tom." Dean shuddered, moving his hand over his face.

"I haven't even asked him yet… what do you think was it?" Dean looked down at his brother, who squirmed in his sleep, laying a reassuring hand on the boy's cheek.

"I have honestly no idea… your father told me that Tom and he were after this supposed-to-be Sandman… and when they nearly had this thing, a… man appeared. John told me that he thought that this was an innocent man… he and Tom wanted to waste the Sandman, before he would even think about harming that man… and suddenly… that sounds so stupid… this man changed… your dad told me that it suddenly was beautiful… and… dangerous."

Dean swallowed dryly. His father could have died tonight, too.

"I've never heard that two different monsters were working together. Especially not a Sandman… okay… I have given up the thought that this was a Sandman… but I have no idea what else he could be." Bobby mumbled.

"So… you have no news?" Dean asked.

"I'm afraid… no…" Dean could hear the distress in his friends voice. "Where's your father?"

"Here… right beside me… well… right beside Sammy…" Dean had unconsciously began to move his finger through his brother's hair. "He's asleep… I'm gonna tell him everything when he's awake."

"Okay…" John sighed on the other line. "Happy birthday by the way… I couldn't call yesterday."

"Thanks Bobby…" Dean smiled, despite the situation. All their other friends have called yesterday, while the long car-drive. Caleb, Jim… Thomas.

"Hey kiddo… get some more rest… would ya?" Bobby asked, his voice soft.

"But…"

"No but, boy… that wasn't a question… that's an order" Bobby grumbled.

"You're not my…" Dean couldn't end his sentence.

"I know I'm not your father… but do you really think I care about blood after all those years?" Bobby quizzed, but he did let Dean time to answer. "Snuggle up to your brother and go back to sleep." Dean blushed hearing that, immediately letting his hand fall from his brother's hair. "And sleep tight, son"

"Good night Bobby" Dean whispered.

"Yeah… thanks… and do me a favour… kick Johnny's ass tomorrow for getting drunk." Bobby chuckled.

"How do you…"

"I simply know… go back to sleep." Bobby hung up, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

He wouldn't go back to sleep… Dean promised himself, standing up to use the laptop.

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I've got a bad feeling about the story… honestly… I'm just writing… but I have no idea where it's coming from and where it's going to end… I've kinda lost the plot I've thought about… Really my fingers are faster than my brain…

I really didn't insist to kill somebody off :D Well… poor Thomas

At least I can make it exciting for myself, too. :D

Reviews please.