(Minute changes from the original version. I've kinda changed the way Sam's been mourning. After reading through the OG version I kinda cringed when I saw how everything had been written out. So in the rewrite I fixed it. Hopefully I reads better.)

Unforeseen Future

Chapter Six: Confusion

At four he remembered being confused. Not about his mother. In that regard Dean remembered everything. He remembered the heat, the wails from the baby in his arms, and his father's confident, if not worried, gaze as he told him to take his brother outside. He remembered the swarm of police that had tried to separate him from his baby brother. The instant his father held him close and they both watched and waited as Sammy was checked over by paramedics, and in turn Dean himself, and his father. Then he'd asked his daddy where mommy had gone, he told her that she was up with the angels. Dean asked if she would come back, and daddy cried. It was then at the ripe age of four he realized mommy wasn't coming back. She had left him. He would never see her again.

He hadn't been confused about his new temporary home. He remembered his daddy's boss come up from behind and offer a place to stay. They had stayed there for a little while, and he hated it. The pesky wife of his daddy's boss kept trying to take away Sammy. Trying to change his diaper, and bottle feed him. But he was given responsibility. His dad said to protect him that night, and he was going to do that job tenfold. Besides Sammy didn't want the funny woman to pretend to be his mommy. He needed actual family. And that was Dean.

No, he was confused about his daddy. He knew the knock out juice his daddy was taking made him temperamental and sleepy. He just hated that all of the sudden there was no more hugs, no more ruffling his hair, tickling him, or calling him champ. He stopping playing football with him. His daddy stopped waking up early to go jogging, and stopped clocking in at the garage. His daddy even stopped talking to him all together for a week, even fought with his nice boss. Dean figured he had done something wrong, stopped responding to him entirely Dean stopped talking himself to anyone besides Sammy. He would offer his brother quiet reassurances, but when an adult came up and spoke he would just stare.

That was when Dean had truly gone from big brother to father.

And that painful moment in time was playing out once again. Maybe no fire, but his brother was mirroring his father's struggles. Some days Sam refused to leave the bed. Then there was this this cycle of sadness and anger. Even some days Sam was mean.

"Sam." Dean sighed. He jostled his brother's bed frame. His brother wasn't asleep. Sleep would mean he would see his girlfriend splayed out on the field in her own blood. Sam only got sleep if Dean crushed up sleeping pills in his brother's juice.

The unmoving lump on the bed didn't say anything. Dean supposed it was a repeat sadness day.

"Sam. Get your lazy ass up and go take a shower. You were comatose all day, yesterday. So, it's time to get up, clean up, and put something in your stomach."

Sam shifted slightly. "I showered yesterday."

"No, you didn't." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam still didn't move. "I mean it get up. I have Bobby prepping some food downstairs so you'll have something once you're out."

"'M not hungry, Dean." Sam muttered sleepily.

Dean scowled, but didn't fist his hands and hit the wall like he wanted to. "You feeling lightheaded? Headache? Your stomach maybe not growling, but hollow? Or maybe your limbs they feel weak and it seems like it would take a lot of effort to even get to the fucking bathroom? Well that would be your body running on fumes. You haven't eaten in a few days. I was lenient before, but not now. You will eat something, whether you're hungry or not."

"Yer bossy." Sam muttered and rubbed at his eyes. Slowly the kid pushed himself up in a sitting position.

"And you're a smelly, bitch." Sam cocked up an eyebrow at his brother. Dean would take it. "I mean it Sam. I have to share a room with you, so I know when your rank."

Sam pushed up from the bed and made his way vertical. Dean caught him and helped him to the bathroom just across the hall. With a grunt, he dumped Sam down on the closed toilet and stood back up. "Now do I need to strip down to and hold you up or are you good?"

Sam wrinkled his nose at the thought of taking a shower with his brother. "I can take my own shower, thank you." For once his voice held a tone of disgust and Dean nearly caught a hint of Sam in it.

"Good." Dean gave a slight smile. He headed towards the door and turned before clearing the doorway. "Don't lock the door. I'll bring in a change of clothes for you and take the old ones."

"Dean?" Sam asked studying the shower.

Dean sighed. "Yes?"

"Still hiding the razor?" An eyebrow had shot up and Sam was giving his big brother a hurt look. The first day had caught on that anything that could harm him was out of sight it had stung. Not that Dean admitted it. The knives in the kitchen were suddenly missing, the razor in the bathroom, even the usual fire arms were missing from their hiding spots. Not to mention the alcohol from the fridge and cabinet.

Dean shrugged. He gestured towards his own face, emphasizing the evident facial hair that hadn't been dealt with. "I dunno. I haven't used it myself in a while. Why? You need to shave?"

"No." Sam scowled.

Dean played off the exchange with confusion. "Okay then, what's the big deal?"

"Nothing." Sam drooped on the toilet seat. "Go away."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'll be back and get you some clean clothes." He closed the door behind him and listened to the sound of Sam mutter and grunt as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He waited until the curtain was drawn and the water started before he headed to their room.

It had now been three awful weeks. The first spent in recovery at the hospital. The second spent getting things situated with his apartment and school, and checking to see if demon signs showed Azazel or his goon in the area. The third had been spent dealing with depressed Sam.

On a good day Sam was up and running. Literally running in the lot with Buddy at his heels. On a bad day Sam was on the bed, where not even the dumb dog could get the kid up and going. Those days Buddy would settle for curling up with his boy licking and whining every now and again.

Dean wished this had been the first time he had urged Sam out of bed. He hoped it wouldn't continue next week. Correction. It wouldn't continue next week. Dean would allow his brother to mourn, but the kid needed to start working on dealing with it in healthier better ways. Besides Jessica wouldn't want Sam to be this way. She would want him to move forward.

Sam was in the middle of showering when Dean stepped back in the bathroom and switched out the rancid clothes for clean fresh ones. When he'd dumped the clothes in the basement next to the dryer and washer, he stepped back upstairs and collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs.

Bobby looked up from his book. "Heard the shower going."

"Yeah, he's finally bathing." Dean sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "I can't let him do this much longer Bobby."

"I know." Bobby shut the book spreading dust around. "He's just trying to come to terms with it all. Finding out your best friend, your roommate was literally not himself. Then the big bomb of losing someone you love in such a tragic way."

Dean shook his head. "It was like the demon just took a dump on Sam's life and skipped off. I tried following signs- any signs but- he's disappeared off the face of the earth."

"He might have gone underground." Bobby frowned. "Just jostled the kid and ran, but I don't know why."

"He was happy." Dean sighed. He looked up at Bobby and fought back emotions. "He was going to propose."

Bobby stilled. He'd known about the visions, but no one had mentioned anything about a potential engagement. His heart bled further for the kid. "He got the ring?"

"In the cliché, little box." Dean ached for a beer, but that would require pulling one from hiding. "Kid was ready to go down on one knee and start that baseball team."

Bobby dropped the book to the table. "You didn't mention that."

"It wasn't helping us deal with Sam or find the demon." Dean shrugged. "Besides, Sam wasn't ready to have that brought up. Hell, he still isn't ready."

"I'll keep it on the down low." Bobby pushed back on the chair and stood up staring the coffee machine. It was a little late, but if he couldn't have a beer he'd have a cup of coffee. He'd just switch one vice for another. "Need a cup."

"Please." Dean moaned.

They sat in silence. Conversation wasn't high in the house since Jessica Moore's death. It had hit all of them hard. Not only was it hard to see Sam suffering the way he was, but it was hard not having her around. She'd become a staple in the family. She'd learned everything about Sam, hunting and all, and accepted the boy for all he was. She'd called on Bobby and Dean's bullshit whenever they would talk. Act like one of the guys and share a beer. And even fought with them during football games. She had been so good for Sam, and both knew it would be a while before Sam opened up to anyone ever again.

"He's still using his college brain." Dean joked. He flinched however at his familiar term. Sam was no longer in college; Yellow Eyes had effectively chased him out. "He's noticed the razor was missing. I tried to be sneaky too."

"He's aware of how careful you are trying to be around him." John broke in as he walked in from outside. The door closed louder that it had opened and the dog door flap bounced up and down when Buddy pounced in. "Remember when I got pissed because Mike and Kate were tip toeing around me."

Dean scowled. "I'm surprised you do. You were at the bottom of a bottle last I could remember."

"Not a lie." John nodded joining Dean. "But my point still stands."

John had been urging Dean to stop coddling Sam. It wasn't helping the kid any. All it was doing was helping Sam not face reality when he was moping, and piss the kid off when he was angry. Two emotions Sam was feeling a plethora of.

"Well what would you have me do, Dad? I can bark orders at him. Maybe have him run a few laps around the house." Dean cocked his head and made a thoughtful expression. It would have read with sincerity, but both of the older men knew better. "Oh, I know, I can feed into the revenge that Sam must want and have him go incessantly after this demon. Wait sorry, that was you."

John narrowed his eyes. "I don't want you to bark orders, nor do I want you to stir him up. But the boy needs to start getting up in the morning, urge him to exercise and work off some of that emotion. He needs to have a schedule he can follow until he can do normal again. I wish I had done that."

Dean's face softened. "Look I'm-"

"Don't apologize." John ground out. "This is hard on all of us seeing the boy this way. He may be your brother, but he's our son."

Bobby frowned. About a year after he'd returned to his boys and was visiting regularly John had started to refer to the boys as Bobby's sons as well. It wasn't meant to be mean, or offensive, but it was the truth. Bobby and John worked as a sort of couple to make sure the boys got everything they needed. Bobby just wished it didn't make it sound like they actually were a couple.

"John, there has to be a better way to explain that." Bobby groused.

"Point being. We all want Sam to get better. And Sam wallowing isn't doing that."

"I know." Dean finally sighed. "I just told Bobby I couldn't let Sam do this anymore. I'm not sure what I'll do but, he'll have to start getting up in the morning, and eating for sure. He's too freakishly tall to not eat."

The water cut off upstairs, and Dean heard the pressure die off in the pipes. "Okay. Can you heat something up Bobby? I'm dragging Sammy down here whether he likes it or not."

"Yeah, I can make him something, real quick." Bobby nodded.

"Thanks." Dean didn't need to look to know that there were two pairs of concerned eyes following him towards the stairs and up until he was out of sight. He had already gotten the speech from Bobby about how he could dote on his brother, but he had to take care of himself in the process. Dean said he would but he wasn't doing a good job of it. He had gotten little sleep sitting over his little brother as he tossed and turned in the night. He told Bobby he got sleep but the darkness under his eyes told a different story.

At the bathroom door Dean leaned up against the frame and listened to his brother as he shuffled around the bathroom. One he heard the zip of his jeans Dean pushed the door open in time to see Sam buttoning the pants.

"Dean." Sam groaned, after he registered that it was in fact his brother imposing on him. "You could wait."

"You have pants on." Dean shrugged. "Now the shirt and we can go downstairs."

Sam muttered as he picked up a toothbrush unsolicited and scowled at his brother. "I don't need a baby sitter, besides I'm not-"

"Whatever you're about to say better not end in hungry, because we discussed this before. You are eating. I already have Bobby downstairs making something." Dean growled.

Sam just rolled his eyes and put a line of toothpaste on the brush before scrubbing it across his teeth. He didn't work too hard at it; it was just to get the stale taste out of his mouth. After a rinse and spit, he looked up to find Dean with his arms crossed glowering up at his brother. "I'll eat something." Sam rolled his eyes. "Quit mother-henning."

"Have you met me?" Dean's scowl deepened.

"Unfortunately." Sam shuffled out of the bathroom, but for the first time in a long time he wore a slight grin.

Dean wanted to collapse his knees weak the second he saw his brother's lips turn slightly upwards. He'd seen them do that before in the passing weeks, but usually the expression failed to meet his eyes. This time there was a glow there that hadn't been there before. He played off his emotion. "Unfortunately!? I will have you know I am the best person I know."

"Suree." Sam's grin widened for a split second before he pushed past his brother and started for the stairs.

"It's true." Dean playfully smacked his brother's arm. He sniffed at the air and exhaled dramatically. "I smell bacon."

"Worse than a bloodhound." Sam muttered, but his blank expression had slid back into place. He'd allowed all the emotion he could out. Sam stopped, but he didn't turn. "Thanks, Dean. For everything."

Dean's playfulness dropped. The large part of his heart devoted to his snot nosed little brother practically started to bleed. Dean cuffed the back of Sam's neck and kept his calloused hand there for a second before clearing his throat. "Hey, anytime. I got your back."

"I'm going to head to my room then." Sam said quietly trying to play off what his brother had demanded a little while ago.

"Nope." Dean gave his brother a shove towards the stairs. "Nice play with the sentiment but you're still eating."

By the time the brothers had made it down the stairs and they'd entered the kitchen Sam was done with his protests. He couldn't explain it. Food had no appeal. It didn't look good, and it didn't smell good. All it did was churn at his stomach. The last meal he had, he'd chucked it back up again.

Dean cuffed his brother's neck again, only this time it wasn't a sentimental move, it was to force his brother into the chair. Sam took it without complaint. Bobby carefully looked over from the stove at the kid slumped in the chair. "Nice to see you up, boy."

Sam didn't respond.

Dean dropped a glace of juice in front of his brother. "Use words."

Sam managed a decent bitch face. "Thanks, Bobby."

It may have been annoyance, but Dean was happy with what he had gotten today. Sam had actually gotten out of his bed, and showered. He was going to eat a meal, and he'd gotten his brother to smile, and make a bitch face all in one day. Baby steps.

Bobby plated the eggs and strip of bacon and put it in front of the boy. He noticed Dean wrinkle his nose at the meager amount on the plate. "Here you go, Son. Your stomach hasn't had a lot of food the last couple of days, so we're going to start slow okay. We want you keeping down food."

Sam nodded but looked down at the plate like Bobby was serving a platter of severed fingers. "Thanks."

Conversation didn't start until Sam had dug his fork into the eggs and taken at least a single bite. Afterwards it remained polite and light. When Sam's plate was cleaned save the bacon, Dean swiped the strip off knowing his brother wasn't going to eat it. It was like they were starting all over again. It seemed not too long ago, a skinny-assed twelve-year-old sat at the table so sure he was going back to a life of motel to motel, so he didn't want to get too used to food. Now Sam was too sad to even think about eating. He desperately wished his brother could be normal.

"Any sign." Sam asked. There wasn't a twinge of anger. The angry phase had started after Sam had cried. He'd run himself ragged trying to find yellow eyes. Dean didn't allow himself to feed into his brother's anger then. Sam was too much like his father and he didn't want Sam going down the vengeance road.

"None yet. I however have one of Ellen's guys on it. Apparently, the man that works the bar and sports a mullet has a techie background. Kid went to MIT. Course he got kicked out, but he is a genius with a computer." John stated.

Dean chuckled. "How would you know?" His father couldn't even work a flip phone.

John ignored his eldest in favor of watching his younger son. "I spoke with him at the bar about all the notes I had on trying to find this son of a bitch, and how difficult it was trying to find it all manually, and all he did was plug in the conditions. He can go back in time, and tell me where Yellow Eyes was before. Says that if he gets any kind of notice about him now, the computer will instantly tell him. And he of course will call me."

"You trust someone enough to give them your notes?" Sam's tone changed slightly but he couldn't muster a smile.

"I've had enough discussions with him. I only knew that he was able to find hunts that no one knew about. Except for the mullet he's alright." John shrugged. "What about you, Sam? Any headaches?"

He wasn't worried about the headaches. He was worried about what came with the headaches. One time, when Sam had nearly made it to the shower he'd collapsed and gripped his head. It wasn't a headache. All three men knew that despite the lack of hunting in the boy's life, he could handle pain like the rest of them. No this was skull splitting pain. He'd fainted. It took two of them to wrestle Sam in bed, and by the time Sam had woken up there was panting with tears streaming down his face.

His arm falling across his eyes to drown out the light. "Woman is going to die." Sam had moaned finally.

John and Bobby looked shocked. They'd gotten the visions discussion from Dean, with a few grunts from Sam. But they hadn't seen the kid in action. John however had the sense to flick off the light. From what he had seen his boy must have had an awful pounding in his head.

"How does she die, Sam? Where is she?" Dean asked instantly.

Confusion had mixed in with his sorrow. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Sam thought hard about it, or he was in pain. They couldn't tell with his expressions anymore. "The other woman touched her, and she fell over. She didn't mean to. She got scared."

"You don't know where?"

"Billings, Billings Montana." Sam muttered. "They were talking- about visiting family- and-" Sam didn't finish, he just looked blankly forward and wiped at his bleeding nose.

The place was huge though. Biggest city in Montana, and John on his way over got the call from Bobby that he'd looked into the news there. Young woman found dead in hotel room. Apparently, a Jennifer Stallings was headed home to introduce her girlfriend Lily Baker to her family. Jennifer was found dead in her hotel room, no foul play discovered. Her heart had simply stopped. However, Lily was gone. She hadn't even taken her things with her. Another body was found of a taxi man, without the taxi. Once again, no poison, no markings on the body, his heart had just stopped. They were still looking for the car and the girl.

"I had a small headache for a little while afterwards, but-" He didn't need to finish. He hadn't seen anything else. "I never asked, was she ever found?"

"No." John answered. Once he made it there, he'd played FBI, and come up with nothing. "She was born however in 1983."

Dean leaned forward in his seat. He hadn't gotten that information. "Was there a fire?"

"That's where it gets weird." John scowled. "No, there wasn't. Best thing that I can come up with is that Mary went to check on Sam."

"Maybe if mom or dad hadn't checked on the baby-" Dean let that thought sink in.

"They'd still be alive." Sam finished. His voice low and tired.

Dean scowled. "I didn't mean it like that Sam."

"I know." Sam scooted back in the chair. "I'm going back upstairs."

Dean didn't fight his brother on the matter. He'd go up and talk to him in a little. "You're getting up and having dinner later."

Sam didn't respond but he didn't fight Dean on the matter either. Dean waited until he heard the door shut upstairs. "So all those other visions he's had, they could be tied to other children? I mean maybe they have some messed up connection we don't know about."

"I don't know Dean. When he's up to it, we can ask him about the other visions. You said he looked them up?" John rubbed a tired hand across his stubble.

Dean shrugged. "That's what he said. I didn't get around to asking just how many he actually placed."

Bobby grunted as he stood up and put Sam's plate in the sink. "I say we call in the cavalry. What does Missouri have to say about this?"

"About what? The children?" Dean asked.

"Everything. This is kind of her area of expertise. She's gotten thoughts and images from the demon. Also, she gets visions on the regular as well, what's to say she can't school Sam in what he's going through." Bobby offered.

"Because he won't be doing it long." John growled. "I'm finding a way to end this. To end whatever Sam has."

"And what if Sam is just a natural psychic. Maybe his abilities hadn't revealed themselves until now. What if the reason this creature is after these kids, is because they can see visions, or they can kill by touch, or whatever other abilities are out there?" Bobby growled back. "What if there is nothing to cure. This could just be Sam."

"It's not possible." John set his jaw firmly.

"And how do you know that. You couldn't even get your family medical history." Bobby felt himself boiling.

Dean thought long. He'd looked into all the books Bobby had on a way to stop his brother from seeing these visions of death. But maybe that wasn't the answer. Maybe his brother was just naturally meant to see them. "That's true dad. We know nothing about our family. Maybe there was a psychic in there somewhere we just don't know about."

"We know enough."

Dean frowned. "You barely knew mom's parents. They died before you were married. And unless mom brought up her family." His dad stayed quiet. "Then we know nothing about her side. Then there's your family. All we know about is your mom, the Whites. Your dad-" John's dad had run out on him when he was younger. Dean always figured that factored into his own father's need to run.

"Yeah. I'm still looking into it though." John stated firmly. "I'll double check the Campbell's, but no son of mine is-"

"Is what dad?" Dean growled. "You think this makes Sam a monster? Having visions doesn't turn them into that. You trust Missouri right. Why not Sam?"

"Your twisting words." John scowled. He slapped his hands hard on the table. He gave a firm glance to both of the men. "Call Missouri on training the kid. But I swear to you there is no need for it. He won't have this much longer."

(A/N: So once again- it is just me doing this. Nobody else to read through this stuff. However many times I read through this stuff, I always miss little, and big mistakes that I should have caught. So let me know. I'll fix it- after a little bit of procrastination.)