Soul Catcher

Author: Magicsunbeam

Summary: Sam is plagued by waking nightmares. Unsure what to do, Dean turns to Missouri Mosely.

Sam Winchester watched from his seat in the corner of the roadside truck stop, as his brother tried to hit on the busty waitress. Amused, he noted by the look on the girls face, Dean wasn't getting anywhere today. Sam chuckled to himself as Dean gave up the ghost and returned to the quiet booth.

"Don't." he warned as he slid into the seat opposite.

"What, Dude? I was just going to say how good it is to see a master at work." Sam laughed and ducked as a spoon headed his way.

"Shut up, freak." Dean grouched, making Sam laugh more.

It had been a long day for both men. Following a successful hunt in Colfax County, Nebraska, the past hour had seen them cross the border into Iowa. Another couple of hours and they'd pull over for some well earned rest, before going onto a town on the Guthrie/Audubon border. Dean had found an interesting story on the web he wanted to follow up on.

Desperate to change the subject, Dean threw in a fry and asked. "So. Have you given any thought to the next hunt?"

"Pixie's in the garden?"


"Well, I can't say I know how to get my head around that one." Sam replied. "I mean, pixie's and fairies? Do you believe in the little people?"

"This comes from the man who just took out a two headed vampire demon?"

"Yeah, but man – PIXIE'S?"

"Why not, Francis, when we have every other type of Goddamn weird ass thing going on?"

When Sam didn't answer, Dean looked up to find his brother staring past his shoulder.

Dean's eyes popped, thinking that the waitress may have changed her mind. "What? Is she coming?"

When Sam didn't answer, Dean risked a peak, only to find the waitress busy serving a customer. He turned back to his brother, frustrated.

"What?" he hissed.

Still no answer, and it finally hit Dean that Sam had zoned out.

"Shit." He swore, leaning across the table. "Sam? Come on man, not here. Sammy!"

Dean grabbed his brother's forearm and shook it sending a sugar bowl crashing onto the floor. "SAM!"

The final, slightly panicked shout seemed to work and Sam suddenly pulled away from Dean as if he'd been slapped.

Dean let go, raising his hands. "Easy, take it easy." He said quietly. "You okay?"

Sam looked at Dean, puzzled, and then dropped his head into his hands. Dean couldn't help but noticed how they shook.

"Sammy, speak to me, man. Are you okay?"

Before Sam could answer, a voice cut in.

"Is everything okay, guys?"

The waitress had heard Dean shouting and curiosity had gotten the better of her. Now, looking at Sam's pale face, curiosity turned to concern.

Picking up the sugar bowl, she turned to Dean. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he will be in a minute. He's been sick." He lied.

"I see." She replied, taking a small unconscious step back. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No. Thanks." Dean smiled reassuringly. "He'll be okay in a minute."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Maybe a little water would help though. Would you mind…?"

"Sure, sure. I'll be right back." The waitress nodded before hurrying away.

Dean turned back to his brother to find Sam still holding his head in his hands.

"Sam?" Dean bent his head, trying to see any sign of life. Finally he took the younger mans hands and gently pulled them away to reveal a deathly white, and pain filled face. "Dude, you freaking me out here. What's going on?"

"Mokay. Nightmare." Sam mumbled.

"Nightmare? You mean a vision? What did you see?"

Just them the waitress returned with a pitcher of water. She poured a glass out and placed it before Sam, before backing off again.

"If you boys need anything else, let me know." She said, taking one last concerned look before leaving.

Sam balled a fist and pushed it against his forehead. "Nightmare." He repeated.

"Sam, nightmares are something that happen when you're asleep. Now I know sometimes my company isn't exactly stimulating for a college boy like you, but I'd like to think I can at least be interesting enough to keep you awake."

At last, Sam opened his eyes and aimed a pain filled stare at his brother.

"I saw Jess. On the ceiling. Burning. I felt her blood on my face". He lifted a hand to his face swiping at his skin unconsciously. "It was so clear, like she was right in front of me."

Dean studied his brother for a long moment, before coming to a decision.

"Get you coat on. I'll be right back."

With that, he stood up and went to the counter.

"Is he going to be okay?" the waitress asked as she took payment for the burgers.

"Yeah, he will be." Dean smiled. "He just needs some sleep. Do you know of a motel close by?"

"Sure." She replied, retuning the smile. "Hobson's is right down the road on your right. You can't miss it."

Dean was pleased to see his last order had been heard, and Sam was sitting waiting for him with his coat on. He helped his brother up, concerned by the distinct wobble he saw.

"Easy, Orthello." He encouraged quietly. "One step at a time."

"I'm okay, "Sam protested, attempting to prove it by pushing away Dean's help. It took a few minutes, but eventually they made it to the car,

To Dean's relief, the drive to Hobson's was a short one. There, he quickly booked a room and unloaded the car. Sam was all but asleep when he eventually got him into the room.

"How are doing, Sammy?" Dean asked as he helped him onto the bed.

"M'ok. Sam."

Dean smiled at the reply, but it faded quickly when he saw a flash of pain run across his brother's face. He quickly dug into a bag and retrieved a bottle of Tyenol. Shaking out two capsules, he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water.

"Here you go." Holding out the drug. "A couple of these and a good nights sleep is all you need, eh? Sam?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed, Sam was too tired to move.

"Shit. Come on, Francis. You have to work with me here." Dean gently shook Sam by the arm, successfully waking him long enough to take the pills.

Dean then helped him stretch out on the bed, and before he had time to cover him with a blanket, Sam was asleep.

For the next couple of hours, Dean sat in a recliner and watched his brother's chest rise and fall in a deep, steady rhythm. He really wasn't sure what to think about the waking nightmare thing, and eventually fatigue stopped the thinking process altogether.

Dean climbed into the bed next to Sam's and stretched tiredly. Trying to convince himself that tomorrow would see Sam up and running as normal, he fell asleep.