This one is shorter than most. But I wanted to keep the same format I've been using. Anyway, enjoy.

OH. And can i make a HUGELY bragging note here? Um. I freaked out because of The Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo. Because I had the idea before I watched the episode! Just go back to chapter one. Not the Prologue. Chapter one where Mark is telling the boys what he learned. Yup. Farming. People. I. Had. It. Nailed. Okay I'm done bragging and being excited now.

And as always, thanks for reading and reviews. :)

Ch. 16

Two nights after stopping at the settlement they found.

About a month before meeting Mark.

It's dark when the screams start.

Sam and Dean are the first awake on their side of the camp, up and aware quicker than they've woken up since they lived at the cabin. It's mere seconds after they wake up that they have their gear packed and bags over their shoulders. Outside, they're overwhelmed at the sight of flames and smoke, panicking people running around seemingly without knowing what they're even doing. Dean looks to Sam. "C'mon. We need to find out what's going on."

Sam doesn't move, eyes locked on the flames, his body totally immobile.

Dean swears. "Sam. Sammy." He takes Sam's face in his hands, turning his brother away before trying to get his attention through whatever thoughts are crowding his mind now. Memories of hell, no doubt, with the flames and all. Or maybe the city fire with the leviathans. "Sam!"

Sam's breath quickens, but he doesn't snap out of his frozen state.

Dean yanks his brother behind him, having to loop his arm over his shoulder when he realizes his brother's legs are barely holding him up too. "C'mon. We have to get out of here."

Sam lets himself be led stumbling through the streets. His eyes are far away.

"Sammy. I need you to snap out of it for me." Dean lowers his brother to a sit behind a building to block the flames and heat from him. He takes a deep breath before slapping his brother across the face.

Sam jolts, legs spazzing to kick before he looks around, hand coming up to his cheek. His confused eyes find Dean, giving him a wounded look.

"Sorry, Sammy. I didn't have time to do it easy today. We need to get out of here and I need you to be quick. Alright?"

Sam nods.

"Do you trust me?'

Sam glares.

"I just had to ask." Dean pulls a scarf (What? The nights are cold and he found it at the house.) out of his bag, tying it around Sam's eyes. "I don't want you to freeze on me again. I'll get you out of here, okay?"

"I know," Sam murmurs.

They go through the camp, Dean leading Sam and stopping to help anyone he sees who needs it along the way. Sam flinches back from heat. Dean has to put himself between Sam and the flames. Remind him he's there. It still slows them down. It's when they're about to the front gate that Sam freezes again.

"Sam, c'mon!"

"A girl."

"What?"

"A girl. She's screaming." Then Sam is running, Dean stumbling behind.

Dean watches in amazement as Sam yanks off the makeshift blindfold and starts booking it towards a building. Then he starts hearing the screaming too. He stays close to Sam as they run into a building that's not yet on fire. He makes sure to not let Sam know he sees the flames working towards the back of it.

It doesn't take long to find the girl. It only surprises Dean a little when he sees it's the same one from the day they walked into the camp. Sam is always in tune with people he meets. Wanting to help them. Dean's sure his brother has an affinity for voice recognition. Recognition in general, really.

The girl reaches for Sam as soon as she sees him. Clings to his jacket when he pulls her into the protective cage of his arms. But when they leave the room and see the flames making their way through the building now, Sam freezes again. His body locks. He doesn't move. Just stares at the flames with a far-away look in his eyes. A bad look. A hell memory look. The girl is still hiding her face in Sam's chest.

Dean grits his teeth, grabbing his brother by the shoulder of his jacket. "Idiot brother." He yanks Sam with him, supporting his stumbling brother who still has a tight grip on the girl. Dean just leads him. Until something happens. A flame gets too close maybe. Something triggers Sam. He almost drops the girl.

Dean grabs her, already pressed up against his brother as he tries to get him out of here. He's vaguely aware of gunshots in the distance. Setting the girl down between him and Sam, he yanks his brother down as he collapses behind another building, free of heat or flames. He's losing him. He can see it. And he is not going to let what happened at the cabin happen again.

"Sammy don't you dare do this to me!" He doesn't see any recognition in Sam's eyes. Nothing. They're blank. He's gone. "Sam!" He stares helplessly at his brother, not knowing what to do. They have to get out of here. They have to… He slaps him again. Panic sets in when that doesn't do a thing. Sam's body sits limp. Slumped against the brick wall of the building. "Sam!"

The girl reminds him of her presence then, tapping Sam's arm and repeating Dean with, "Sam." She looks to Dean, confused.

Dean sets her out of the way, safe between him and the wall before grabbing Sam's face and pulling it to his. He touches his forehead to his brother's. "Sammy. I need you to wake up for me. Right now. You hear me? We need to save this little girl. We need to get out of here. But you need to wake up for that. Okay?" He pulls back to look into his brother's unseeing eyes. "Damnit Sam!"

The girl hits Sam's arm again. "Sam."

Dean lets his forehead fall against his brother's again. "I need you to climb out of whatever hole your memories have drug you to. Do you understand? I need you to come back, Sammy. You were doing great. You were getting better. I need that back. Sammy. Sammy, Sammy." He just sits there for a few precious seconds. They have to get out. The girl. The girl needs him. She doesn't deserve to die because he couldn't get his act together.

He looks down to her, seeing her look from Sam to him in confusion. "Okay. We're going to get out of here. Alright? I've got you. But I'm going to be carrying Sam."

She looks to Sam, touching his arm again. "Sam sick?"

Dean swallows, throwing Sam's duffel over his shoulder. "That's right." He throws Sam's arms over his shoulder next, moving him into a fireman's carry before standing to his feet with a groan. His knee is giving him hell for this. He pushes it away. Sam lays limp on his shoulders. He looks to the girl, looking at the fear in her eyes. "I need you to grab onto my jacket."

She does so immediately, her small hand bunching it up enough that her little knuckles turn white.

"That's good. Now hold on. I won't leave you okay? I've got you."

She nods, her other hand coming up to do the same thing. She holds on as he starts walking, keeping step beside him with three for every one of his.

He keeps his steps small. The weight on his back and his limp helping. He stays away from fire. Heading towards the front gate, he sees people starting to hose things down in the distance. As he comes out from the fire and smoke, quite dramatically from the view of the people watching, others run forward.

The little girl suddenly lets go of his jacket, running towards one of the people headed their way. "Daddy!"

Dean sighs in relief. That's one thing taken care of.

The man who pulls the girl into his arms is crying in relief. The mother is nowhere in sight. When he looks over the girls shoulder, his eyes lock onto Dean and see him carrying the huge man on his shoulders. He runs forward, not setting his daughter down even as he helps support Dean. "He alright?"

Dean shakes his head. "PTSD." It's the easiest way to describe this to a stranger. "I can't bring him out of his daze." He lets the man help him to a safe building, not touched by flames. They take Sam to a bedroom, dropping him on the bed inside. Dean's heart clenches as his brother doesn't move. Just like at the cabin. "God, Sammy."

The father watches him. "He your…"

"Brother," Dean cuts in. He gently moves Sam to a comfortable looking position, brushing his tousled hair back. "Sammy," he sighs.

"Sammy," the girl repeats, still in her father's arms.

"Fire triggers memories," Dean explains. "Big fires," he corrects. The homey fires in their fireplace or their little campfires never affected him. "It's been a long time since it's been this bad." He checks Sam's pupils. They're fine. Then goes over his body for injuries. Nothing. He sits on the edge of the bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," the man says softly. Knowingly. The sound of someone who's lost someone too.

"Don't be," Dean answers. He chuckles. "The idiot saved your daughter. I had him blindfolded. Was leading him out of here. He heard her and ripped it off before sprinting back into the fire."

The man grips Dean's shoulder. "Then I'm really sorry."

Dean shakes his head, looking back to Sam. "He'll pull through. He always does."

"Keep him here. I knew the people who lived here. They moved on a week or so ago. It's empty now. We'll probably have more people move in, but this room can be yours. It's one of the biggest."

Dean nods. "Thanks." He stands, looking at Sam before sighing and turning away. "Do you need any help with anything?"

The door is locked behind him when he leaves to help. Sam hasn't moved when he comes back hours later. He pulls of his brother's dirty and smoky clothes down to boxers and pulls the blankets out from under him before getting down to boxers and a t-shirt himself. He lays on his side after covering them up, just looking at Sam. "I'm staring at you," he murmurs. "You're going to have to wake up to get me to stop."

Nothing.

He sighs. "Goodnight, Sammy." He lays down, the last thing he sees is Sam staring blankly at the ceiling.

It only takes two days for Sam to wake up from this one.

"Thank God!" Dean had exclaimed when he woke up that morning to Sam staring at him from his side of the bed, laying on his side.

Sam smirks.

Then Dean grips him by his shirt. "Don't you ever do that to me again!"

Sam nods, face apologetic before he lays down, curling up and resting his forehead to Dean's chest after separating Dean's hand from his shirt.

Dean sighs, knowing this is Sam looking for comfort for what memories or tortures his mind had cooked up and had him trapped in. He throws his arm over Sam, letting it rest there. It's not cuddling. At all.

"I'm right here Sam."

Sam sighs.

"No more fires. Okay?"

Sam nods. Then his head jerks up, eyes beseeching.

Dean rolls his eyes. "The girl is fine."

Sam lets his head fall again, a huge sigh escaping him. As if as long as the girl was okay, he didn't mind what he had to go through.

Dean frowns. "Idiot."

Sam only scoots a little closer.