Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sad, isn't it? So, now that we've established that, I'm not going to repeat it!
A/N: This is AU, I guess. Starts a little while after the season finale, after the guys had had time to bounce back, so the whole season is fair game. Also, all the places mentioned are imaginary.
I wanna know why!
"Sam, are you okay? Sam? Sammy, can you hear me?" the words barely reached through the pain. The most he could do was try to keep breathing, and hope that his brain won't explode. Maybe that would be better. It would probably hurt less.
Ever so slowly, the haze of pain began to lift and Sam was once again aware of the worried eyes that watched his every move, the strong hands that held him, trying to comfort him and ease his pain.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, still squinting, his fingers still pressed hard against his temples. His voice sounded weak and unconvincing, even to his own ears. He shook his head stumbling back to the bed with Dean's help. His father's eyes were still on him with a mixture of trepidation and apprehension.
"Are you okay?" Sam attempted a smile, thanking Dean for the glass of water, and waiting for the painkillers Dean was still looking for.
"Was it another vision?" his father asked.
"Yeah." Sam said, taking the pills from Dean and swallowing them quickly. The migraines were really starting to get unbearable. Dean quickly turned off the lights, pulling the curtains close, and Sam couldn't have been more grateful for that.
"What did you see?"
"Dad, give him a second, would you?" Dean interrupted quickly, before Sam had had the chance to answer. Sam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
"No, it's okay, I'm alright." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could tell Dean was looking worriedly at him even though his eyes were closed. "I saw it again. It's happening again." Sam said.
"The Demon?" John asked and Sam nodded.
This was his forth vision since the accident. The fifth of a kind since Salvation. They were still out of his control, still painful and still left his head pounding for hours after they ended. He really started to hate them. He never asked for it, never wanted it, any of it. He didn't want this life. All he ever wanted was to be like everyone else. To be normal.
Figures, with his luck, that he would be the one stuck with the freaky power. And a useless one at that. The one time he really needed it, the one time he was desperate to use it, seeing his brother torn apart in front of him, it had failed him. He couldn't help Dean, and his brother was still paying for it. Even five months later, Dean was still paying for his incompetence.
He denied it, of course, insisting he was all right, refusing any help, but Sam knew his brother better than that. He saw through his brother's mask. It wasn't that difficult a job now, that Dean would stop, breathless, in the middle of a simple hunt, or even pass out from exhaustion. Sam had nearly had a heart attack the first time that had happened.
"You okay there, Sammy?" Dean asked, and Sam realized he had just spaced out.
"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He said, and then turned to his father. "Yes, it was the Demon. It's after another baby." He said. John raised a brow, running his hand over his face, and Sam could clearly read the anger and disappointed on his face. They could have ended it, stopped the demon, but Sam couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. Not with Dean using what were almost his last breaths begging him not to kill their father.
"It's picking up the pace." John said somberly. "It's planning something."
"Do you know where?" Dean asked, already reaching for the car keys. Sam eyed him a moment. Dean shouldn't be driving. Then again, with the visions and the migraines, he couldn't drive, even if Dean would let him.
Sam closed his eyes, trying to remember every detail of his recent vision. A bedroom, not a nursery this time. Those people were either poor or overprotective. The baby's crib was in the parents' bedroom. That was odd. Another diversion from the demon's usual MO. There were too many of those lately. Sam tried to forget about what he didn't know and concentrate about what he did. The bedroom. There was a nightlight, wind chimes with tiny stars, a few stuffed animals in the crib, tons of diapers… And pictures. Sam focused on those. They were happy pictures; from graduation, from the wedding, from the hospital with the new baby. There was love and happiness in every picture. And in one of them, there was something he could use. A store that had a sign that said 'The best pie in Armain, Texas."
"In Texas." Sam said, getting to his feet.
"Texas?" John asked, and Sam nodded. "You sure?" Sam nodded again.
"Why?" Dean asked, and then understood even before his father answered. The vision before last was about Texas. They found nothing there, and they were too late to help the people that called John's cell, leaving a distressed message.
"So what if it's the same place. We can't take the chance now, can we?" Sam asked. "I mean, if it's there…" his voice trailed off. "What?"
"Sam, it just… I don't know, you've been having an awful lot of visions lately." Dean said as carefully as he could, but it still irritated Sam. They didn't believe him. Or rather, they believed he was having the visions, they just no longer believed the visions were leading them anywhere. And that was downright exasperating.
"So what, we're going to ignore this vision just because we've already been to Texas?" Sam asked.
"No, of course not!" Dean said quickly, but John's eyes spoke differently. Sam stared at his father.
"What are we waiting for?" he asked. John ran his fingers through his hair.
"It's half way across the country, Sam." He said in a tired voice, and Sam only got angrier.
"So what? Since when has that ever bothered you?" he demanded.
"We should be smart about this." John said, "No point going all the way there just to find that there's something going on in New York or something, right?"
"We'll do the research first. We know the pattern, we know what to look for."
"And they could be dead by the time we get there!" Sam shouted, "We have to leave! Now!"
And they did. Well, at least, Sam and Dean did. Their father stayed behind. Sam didn't really care. He didn't especially miss the way his father treated him - like he was still ten years old, and could barely hold a gun. He knew the job, he has been doing it for a long time, and he was damn good at it. He and Dean had had a rhythm of their own, they didn't need their dad around to do what needed to be done. They were a team, and a good one.
Sam suspected Dean didn't mind leaving dad behind, either. There was something different about Dean ever since what happened at the cabin. He was quieter, preferred to spend more and more time on his own. Sam tried talking to him more than once about what had happened, about what the demon had said. Dean would just shrug him off, saying he knew demons lie and that he couldn't care less about what that demon had said, but Sam knew better than to believe him. Dean wasn't over it, and like the irritating stubborn ass that he was, he refused to talk about it.
Sam was staring out the window at the blur of scenery outside. It was all the same. Houses, countryside, fields – he had seen it all before. The silence was annoying, though, so he turned on the radio. That was another thing. Dean lost his mullet rock tapes. Sam reminded himself again to get his brother all the CDs with all his favorite music. He kept meaning to, but he always forgot.
"So, that vision of yours, did it happen to come with an address?" Dean asked, breaking the long silence. Sam stared at him. He couldn't believe he even thought about it, but he missed his brother's quips. Dean and serious didn't go well together outside the hunt. There was something on his brother's mind, and Sam would get it out of him, if he wanted to or not.
"Have we ever been that lucky?" Sam asked, and Dean didn't answer, he just kept staring at the road ahead. Sam sighed and returned to staring out the window. Come on, he thought, couldn't have handed him an easier line. He had been expecting the obvious – the shit eating grin and the old glint in his brother's eyes as he looked at Sam and told him that he had been lucky plenty of times in his life, and that it was about time little brother started following suit. But Dean didn't say anything.
It took them a day to reach the town. Sam had been hoping for another vision, so he could know which house, which family was about to get attacked, but of course, his 'shining' only shone when he didn't want it to. When he needed it… well, the scars on Dean's chest and the way the glint had disappeared from his brother's eyes were a constant reminder to what happened when his new powers failed him. When Sam had failed.
"Dude, you're starting to creep people out. At least pretend you're talking on your cell or something. Staring at people's houses isn't the best way to convince them you're not a psycho." Dean said, yanking Sam from his reverie. Sam was supposed to check the neighborhood, see if anything looked suspicious while Dean searched for the other signs – the freak weather changes, animal deaths, temperature changes, electrical storms and such.
"Found anything?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, there's a restaurant just a couple of blocks away." Dean said and Sam glowered at him. "No. No temperature fluctuations, no cattle deaths, no animal deaths. Nothing." Dean said, "I hate to say it, Sammy, but I think you're shining thing is out of tune. When was the last time you had a professional check it?" he said seriously, but then smirked at Sam's annoyance. That smirk was worth it, though. For a fleeting moment, the old Dean was back.
"Look, I know what I saw. It's coming." He insisted and Dean nodded lightly, looking around.
"Well, it's not coming until nighttime." He said, turning back, "Let's go eat."
"No, I'm not hungry." Sam said, still looking around at the people going by. It would be a small house. Maybe even an apartment. He had to keep looking.
"Yeah, well, suit yourself." Dean said and left. Sam stared after his brother, shaking his head. Dean's changed, and he didn't like it. He followed Dean to the restaurant even though he wasn't hungry. Dean was right after all, the Demon only came out at night.
Sam ordered a sandwich and watched as Dean started reading a local newspaper. It almost felt like Dean was ignoring him. Sam hated that. Well, luckily, he had years of practice on how to make his big brother pay attention. Sam smirked, staring intently at Dean. Dean glanced at him over the paper and kept reading. That was just fine. Sam kept staring. Dean gave him another glance, and Sam smiled innocently.
"What?" Dean asked, a little irritated.
"Nothing." Sam said, but kept staring.
"Then why're you staring?" Dean demanded, lowering the paper.
"I'm not staring." Sam said innocently, never taking his eyes off his brother.
"Well, cut it out!" Dean said irritably. Sam blinked, but that's the best big brother was going to get out of it. "I mean it, Sam, stop it!" Dean snapped in a tone of voice that made it clear that he wasn't kidding. Sam sighed and started on his sandwich. Humorless Dean was not a fun Dean. A sudden thought crossed Sam's mind as he chewed his food. Maybe Dean was never really a smartmouth. Maybe it was just the Impala, and now that it was gone, the source of his brother's quips was gone. Sam sighed again.
He had given Dean a toy Impala when he got out of the hospital. It took Sam two weeks to find a tiny car that resembled his brother's car so much, but apparently, Dean didn't like the gesture. He left the car at the hospital, never even bothering to take it out of its plastic casing. Sam was actually irked about it.
"D'you find anything in the paper?" Sam asked eventually.
"I might if you stopped interrupting me." Dean snapped. He took a part of the paper, handing it to Sam. "Here, why won't you make yourself useful?" Sam glowered at his brother. He was about to say something when Dean's cell started ringing. Dean reached in his jacket pocket, taking his cell out. He gave one glance at it, and then set it on the table.
"You're not going to answer that?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged. Sam frowned, reaching for the still ringing phone. The caller ID said Unknown. Sam put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Sammy?" Sam glanced at Dean, who was still skimming through the obits section.
"Yeah, dad." Sam answered a couple of seconds later. Dean not answering the phone. That was new.
"You and your brother alright?" John asked. No, we're not. Dean's not, but you know that, Sam thought, but what he said was,
"Yeah. We haven't found anything yet, still looking."
"Well, I have." John said, and Sam straightened.
"Freak electric storm, temperature fluctuations, the whole nine yards. The Demon's coming." John said somberly.
"Where?" he asked, tense.
"Oregon." John said, "I'm already half way there."
"Dad…" Sam started, but hissed at the sudden pain behind his eyes. He gasped, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes as the images span before his eyes.
A/N: So, a new story. I'm not used to write from Sam's POV, and let me tell you, it's not easy. I hope I did the characters justice. What do you think, should I go on, or cut my losses?