WinchesterHaunt: Here's a short little one shot that just was begging me to write it when the commercial came on right after Sam had his vision. And I, being the sucker that I am, let my brain have its way and we went to the computer and worked on it. So I hope you all enjoy it; and if you don't, blame my brain.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but that doesn't mean I don't wish I did.

Summery: Salvation Tag! Sam's left the hospital and Dean and Dad don't know where their youngest charge has gone. Meanwhile, Sam's just trying to make it back to them while having to deal with his short sporadic visions.

'Hide and Foresee'

One-Shot

Sam continued to stand and watch the small family from his place on the sidewalk. It was hard for him to envision that at one point this could have been what his family was like; adding in a smaller, goofy looking Dean of course. And it hurt Sam more than he would ever know to think that this already small family unit was about to be fractured and made even smaller; become like his family.

He couldn't let that happen; wouldn't let that happen. No one deserved the same hell the Winchester family had been through for the last 22 years. That little girl couldn't grow up without her mother. Sam wouldn't allow it. This was going to end tonight.

Sam adjusted the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder. He needed to make a quick departure back to the hospital. Dean and his dad would probably be freaked if they went looking for him and found nothing more then an empty chair in front of a messy pile of birth certificates. However, the determined young man didn't make it more than one step before his mind was crippled by more visions.

He fisted his shaggy brown hair in an attempt to keep the pain at bay, but nothing could diminish the pain his visions brought. A grunt of pain and dread escapes his lips as a very pink in color nursery invaded his sight and blinded him to the real world around him. He felt a sharp pain in his knees as he watched for the second time in his life a women being pinned to the ceiling and burned.

The sensation of concrete under his knees was the only thing keeping him aware of the two separate worlds he was currently apart of. A cry of pain could no longer be suppressed as the fire in his vision burst from the ceiling and irrupted in his mind simultaneously. Sam tried to turn the vision off, look away, anything to keep from seeing what would mostly likely be the subject of his newest nightmare for nights to come. But in his dreams, he feared that it wouldn't be Rosie's family he would see, but his own in their stead.

---

Dean haphazardly tossed what felt like the one-millionth birth certificate across the table. He messaged his brow with his thumb and forefinger. It was insane how there could be so many babies in one town. Didn't any of the town's women know how to say no?

A grin accompanied Dean's last thought as he thought about to the cute nurse at the nurse's station. Maybe this was his kind of town after all.

His jovial mood didn't last for much longer as another nurse came and dumped three more thick folders of certificates on his desk. He forced a smile and nodded his thanks as the older lady addressed him as doctor and then went on about her business. Begrudgingly he flipped opened one of the folders and began to sift through the papers.

He wondered if Dad or his brother were having as good a time as he was. John probably got neither pleasure nor boredom from it. To him it was just his job and something he had to do. Sam on the other had; he was probably having a great time. Give that boy a book and a theory to run with and he was happy as a clam.

'Geek…'

Dean bit the top of his pen as he read over the next certificate. And though he was trying hard not to lose focus on what he was doing, he simply could not ignore the well-defined pair of legs that passed right next to his table.

"Whoa," the young hunter tilted his head to the side as he regrettably watched them depart. Right before they disappeared, another pair of jean clad legs stepped into his line of vision and Dean grunted a different kind of 'whoa'. One that clearly stated he was caught off guard by the sudden change of scenery.

"Thank you, son. I try to keep in shape."

Dean swallowed hard to keep his embarrassment under control when his father looked down on him with a raised eyebrow. He laughed nervously to try and farther hide his discomfort.

"Sorry. 'Guess I got a little preoccupied after the tenth Bob and the sixth Joe," he gestured his hand toward the pile of discarded certificates in hopes that temporary boredom would award him a pardon from his father.

Thankfully John was a believer of the phrase 'boys will be boys' and just shook his head at his eldest.

"What'd ya got?"

Dean, being glad to put his embarrassment behind him, quickly scrambled for his large yellow note pad and handed it to his father.

"There are seven babies that'll be six months within a few days or weeks; then there are eighteen that'll be six months within one to two months."

"Addresses?"

"Next page."

John didn't offer any words of praise, nor did Dean expect them. The older man just nodded his approval after flipping over to check the list of addresses.

"How'd your brother do?"

Dean briefly knitted his brow together, "I haven't seen him since we left him at the first floor's recorders office."

John knitted his own brow together and looked toward the elevator just down the hall.

"Don't worry, Dad," the eldest son tried to assure his father while doing a poor job of cleaning up his little desk, "You know Sammy. He's probably—"

"Not here."

Dean stopped and looked at his father who was scrubbing his hand down his face.

"What—Dad?"

"I just came from downstairs," John started to explain. He signaled for Dean to leave the paper certificates on the table and follow him, "The nurse on duty said he left about twenty minutes ago. I thought he had finished up and went to you. But obviously not."

"Why would he do that?" Dean answered with a side ways glance up at his father. There wasn't the least bit of confusion on his face and John knew that Dean wasn't referring to the fact that Sam had 'taken off'.

John stepped into the elevator first and waited for Dean to join him before hitting the ground floor button.

"He probably thought you needed help."

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheer and nodded. He turned away from John when the older man felt it was more important to keep his eyes on the floor count at the top of the elevator lift. Dean wasn't stupid. He know that John no more believed his own answer then Dean did.

Dean knew that, if giving the choice between father and brother, Sam would pick Dean every time. It probably wasn't the easiest thought for the patriarch of the family to process; and yet, it was his own doing. John had made his two sons this way. He had made Dean the protector and Sam the charge; and voluntarily taking off for the last year hadn't done much for their father son bonds either. Sam had always been able to turn to Dean, and Dean to Sam. So why would he expect any other behavior now?

"Maybe he went to the bathroom?" Dean suggested, and for the life of him he couldn't tell who he was trying to assure; his father or himself.

"You don't have a sister, Dean," there was a suppressed angry undertone to John's voice and suddenly Dean was happy that his father wasn't looking at him. Dean was twenty-seven, but some how his father always found a way to make him feel two, "What could your brother possibly do in the bathroom for twenty minutes?"

Dean didn't answer; he knew better than too.

The elevator door slid apart and both Winchester men promptly exited the small cavity. They ignored the cries of annoyance from other patience and staff as they rudely pushed their way to the entrance and ultimately out the door.

Once outside, Dean took to looking over the heads of groups of people hoping to see his taller brother sticking out somewhere. John wasted no time in turning his cell back on and dialing his youngest son's number.

It was odd how a number he hadn't dialed in years appeared so quickly from the recessions of his mind.

Dean ventured a bit farther down the sidewalk and called his brother's name. He ignored the funny looks he received from his sudden out burst and frowned when there was no reply.

"Damn that kid," Dean fumed. Sam knew better than to go rooming off when the Demon they had been hunting for their whole lives was in town. It was stupid, and Dean planned to let Sam know that as soon they found his scrawny ass.

The frustrated brother jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and was only slightly surprised when his knuckles rapped against something hard. Pulling the object out of his pocket, he was pleased to see his cell phone. He quickly turned the communication device on and flipped through his contact list until Sam's picture and cell number were highlighted.

"Don't bother," Dean looked up to see John jogging up to him, "he didn't turn his phone back on when he left.

An angry snap issued from Dean's cell as he slammed the lid shut and jammed it back in his pocket.

"So what the hell do we do now?"

John pressed his lips together and glance around the streets before holding his hand out to Dean.

"Keys."

"What?"

"It'll be faster to look for your brother if we take one car. Keys."

Dean dug through his jeans' pocket and pulled out his set of keys to the Impala, "Why can't I drive?"

"Because," the older man swiped the keys from his oldest son and both made their way over to the once family vehicle; John on the driver's side and Dean on the passenger's side, "you drive reckless enough under normal circumstances, and right now we don't have time to deal with the police if you were to run over someone."

Dean kept his irritation to himself as he slide into the passenger's seat. Seconds later the engine of the Impala flared to life and both Winchester's took off down the street.

---

When his harsh vision had finally receded, Sam staggered back to his feet and wasted no time in waiting for his fuzzy head to clear before pelting forward. His pounding head made his hurried steps clumsy and his overall appearance look like that of a drunken man; but sober or not, Sam didn't have time to nurse his wounds. The Demon was coming tonight, and Sam had to let Dean and Dad know. They had to help that baby.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut again before looking up at the Holder's house. He was glad that the small family had already gone back inside and not been witness to his 'fit.' If he was going to help them he didn't need them thinking he was some kind of freak; no matter how true the statement was.

His anxiousness to return to the hospital caused his drunken steps to catch on a small raised root. He barely caught himself on a nearby tree limb. Sam ignored the protest of startled birds above him. He didn't have time for this.

Sam scrubbed at his forehead as another brief imagine of Rosie's bedroom flashed in his mind. He liked these mini visions a lot better than his full blown ones. While the short visions were still painful, they weren't nearly as bad as an entire feature presentation playing up there in his mind; but they were still binding. Every time one assaulted his mind he had to stop, or else he'd be walking blindly in an unfamiliar town.

When his small round of secondary sight had passed, the self-denounced psychic pushed himself away from the tree and staggered on. More than anything, Sam wished Dean was here with him. His big brother had been with him the first time he'd gone through his 'non-psychic attack,' and he'd been with him during the following two. But now he was stumbling around in a strange town after having probably the most important vision of his family's life. Not to mention the loud squealing of tires were doing nothing for his headache.

Loud squealing tires?

Sam dropped his hand from his head and looked up in time to see a big black car stop just before smashing into him. He clumsily scrambled backwards despite the car's immobility. He could hardly believe that he had walked out into the street so absent mindedly.

The young boy placed a trembling hand on the hood of the car and his other hand over his eyes. Normally he wouldn't have touched another person's car, more or less leaned so heavily upon it; but this wasn't a normal situation. Sam's hand trembled from the shock of almost being run over and his head suddenly exploded in another round of pain as more imagines invaded his mind.

Sam was too busy trying to pull himself free of his painful premonition that he wasn't even aware of the fuss going on around him.

---

"Shit!" Dean cursed and tossed his phone on the space between him and his father, "turn your damn cell phone on, Sam."

John tightened his grip around the steering wheel making his knuckles turn a pale, white color. He was worried too, but neither of them needed to lose there cool. Dean's bad mouthing to his inanimate phone wasn't helping them. If anything it was making John tenser.

"Chill, Dean. Well find Sam."

"By driving around?" Dean looked frustrated, and his arms crossed over his chest and slumped posture emphasized it, "This is a big town, Dad. For all we know, somebody could've snatched him up and left town."

"Don't say that," John cut Dean's track of thought short. He twisted his grip on the steering wheel and continued to glare out the front of the windshield, "He's around here somewhere."

"Yeah? How'd ya know?"

And for the first time, Dean and John were both surprised at how much the oldest son suddenly sounded like his younger brother. This didn't make the oldest Winchester too pleased. He already had one rebellious son; he didn't need both of them acting out on him.

"Look, Dean," John took his eyes off the road and sent a shrewd look at his sulking son, "don't act like you're the only one worried, because you're not. I'm just as worried about Sam as you are, and this little attitude you've cocked isn't helping you, me, or your brother. You gotta that?"

Dean swallowed and looked hesitant before replying with his usually 'Yes, sir.'

John nodded and turned his attention back to the road just in time to see a young man step off the sidewalk and into the middle of his lane.

"Shit!" John yelled as he slammed on the brakes.

Dean glanced up in time to see a figure in their path before he had to dig his feet into the floorboard and clinging onto the door handle just to keep from flying through the windshield. The Impala came to a screeching halt and Dean sighed in relief when he neither felt nor heard a grotesque thud.

"God, Dad," Dean grumbled as he slid up in his seat, "and you said I'd run over someone."

Dean rubbed his face with his hands in hopes to relieve some of his building stress. He stopped and looked over at John when the older man didn't reply.

"Dad?"

Dean watched his father cock an angry look through the windshield before throwing the driver's side door open and climbing out. He instantly directed his eyes to the front of the car where his father was headed.

"Sam!" the older son flung his own door open and hurried to stop his father. Dean had seen that look on Sam's face before, and he was familiar with the dreadful lines of pain on his kid brother's face.

"Sam," John stomped around the front of the car and deepened his glare when his youngest son continued to keep his head down, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Running off in the middle of research, worrying me and your brother, and now walking out in front of cars; you could've gotten yourself killed."

"Dad, wait," Dean warned as he hurried to intercept his father.

"Answer me, Sam," John demanded, but the only response he got was Sam's sudden pitch front.

The anger that had over taken John's façade had now turned to shock as he jolted forward to catch his unresponsive son and lower both of them to the ground.

"Sam?" his father shook him, but there was no response.

"Sammy, come on buddy," Dean fell to his knees next to his father and brother. He gently tilted back the boy's head up where they both could see the vacant expression under Sam's shaggy locks.

"What the hell's wrong with him," John's tone was harsh from worry. He didn't like not knowing what he was dealing with; especially when it came to one of his family members.

However, Dean knew exactly what was going on. He frowned before taking one of Sam's arms and draping it over his shoulders.

"We've gotta get him back to the motel room."

Dean grunted under the weight of lifting the taller boy and was thankful when his father grabbed Sam's other arm and took some of the boy's weight off his shoulders. Quickly and carefully as possible, John and Dean maneuvered Sam into a lying position in the back seat.

Dean sighed as his father shut the back door. After watching Sam through the back window for a moment or two, he went to open the passenger side of the Impala. He didn't get it open too wide before John's hand landed on the door and shut it again.

"What's going on here, Dean? You're less freaked about this than I am; which means you've seen this happen before."

Dean pressed his lips together. He couldn't lie to his father, but his younger more sensitive brother probably wouldn't take too kindly to Dean babbling about his visions to their father. Sam would say that it wasn't Dean's place to tell Dad; but Dean would disagree. Anything that concerned Sam's well being was his place, and these visions clearly weren't healthy.

Dean increased his grip on the door handle and jerked it open since John's hand was no longer in the way to stop him. He searched his brain for an answer that would please both his father and his brother, and only after a moment of searching did he realized that there was no such answer.

"Dad, look," Dean licked his lips and glanced back at his brother's curled up form, "this isn't a light subject, so I think it's something you need hear from Sam."

Dean glanced up at his father whose face had disapproval written all over it; but Dean wasn't taking his words back. He had tried for months to get a hold of the man to tell him about his youngest son's visions, but he would never answer. So if the older male wanted to know now, he could ask Sam himself.

"So, uh," Dean patted the top of his door frame and quickly finished his statement, "why don't ask him when he wakes up."

The eldest sibling wasted no time retreating back into the passenger seat and shutting the door before his father could reply. He could see John standing outside his door for a minute longer before coming around the back of the car and sliding back into the driver's seat. He didn't say anything to Dean, but he did adjust the rear-view mirror to focus on the youngest Winchester instead of the back windshield.

John turned the keys in the ignition and gunned the engine before taking off toward the motel. They could go back to the hospital later and retrieve his truck. But right now, John needed answers; ones that Dean was not willing to give. And one way or another, he was going to find out what was wrong with his child.

END

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WinchesterHaunt: Tada! Commercial successfully eliminated. That does my heart good whenever us fans can kill the annoying plot sucking advertisements. Well, I hope you all enjoyed. Later!