Hello all, sorry for the long update time, but thanks to heather03nmg and Classic Rock N' Cars, your reviews were a great encouragement. plus the fact that i went home and watched soem of series two; it gave me a new boost for the story so updates should be more regular. started the next chapter already so fingers crossed. this chapter is a little on the short side compared to usual but i wanted to update and it seemed a good place to leave it for chapter break.


Images crashed in and out of focus, flashing past too quick to take in and giving him the starter of one of those headaches. Somewhere, somehow he knew that this was a vision and important. The rest of him simply became immersed. It was like the feeling of seeing a deep pond and then stepping into its murky depths.

An alter, a church, lightning, the face of a woman he only recognised from photographs, a chant in the background, a symbol, his father with that gun shaking and pointing.

James screaming that turned into….

"Wake up lad, come on wake up."

Sam's eyes snapped open and he bolted up from the sofa that he'd fallen asleep on. He caught Matthew leaping out the way so that their heads narrowly missed colliding, he was too busy sucking air into his lungs. If he took enough then maybe the dizziness brought on from hyperventilation would make him forget. He looked up and caught the wide eyes gaze of his nephew opposite, shook yes but…something else was hidden in the child's gaze.

Sam closed his eyes and controlled his breathing, then looked around. Something wasn't right, didn't fit…

"Dean" he yelped "Where's Dean? Is he back" he asked demanding as Matthew stood up slowly.

The old man shook his head and glanced in James' direction.

Sam shook his head "Something's wrong" he said voice tight

"That boy takes off as and when"

"No" Sam said firmly, "No." he wiped a hand across his face and glanced out the window, noticing that it was considerably lighter than when he'd last stared out. "What time is it?" he asked breathing out slowly.

"Eight", Patricia said quietly from her place behind James.

Sam nodded and stood up "I'm gonna go look for him" he said deliberately only looking at his nephew. The boy stared back at him revealing nothing. Sam let his gaze travel upwards to Patricia who watched him stonily. He gave her a slight nod and then grabbed his jacket and went to walk out the door.

He'd closed it when James caught up with him.

"What do you mean something's wrong?" James asked suddenly.

Sam stopped and turned to look up at the boy who stood on the slightly raised porch. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, anything…

…and failed.

He looked away for a second then looked back to see a growing terror in James' eyes.

Sam took a deep breath "I'll bring him back" he said catching the hazel gaze.

James simply closed his eyes, pressed his lips together and nodded.


Sam felt his heart stop as he neared the old church that had been the closest thing to familiar as he could remember in his childhood. The crowd outside had gathered for some drama, and the cop cars parked down the side gave a slightly more sinister reason. As did the yards of police tape that was slathered over entrances to the church.

Sam pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring gasps and mutterings. There was nothing to be seen at the front and he swore quietly in frustration. Turning he saw an old woman standing in her little blue cardie.

"I'm sorry" he said politely "But you couldn't tell me what's happened?"

Though there was a sad look on her face, the expression lit up slightly at the prospect of having a listener for a short while.

"Young man found in the church last night. Near dead they reckon. Woke me up last night with the screaming"

Sam swallowed "Screaming?"

"Yes dear, I only live up there you see" she pointed to a small house next to the church, which likely gave her a better view of the scene if that was what she had wanted. "My Harold used to be the grounds-keeper, kept the graves nice and cared for. Gone to ruin since his death. Over a year ago now that was"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and nodded not wanting to loose any possible information "Have they I.D'd the man yet"

She shook her head "He's not a local boy, odd that. We had a few people come after the death of the pastor but most travellers were scared off the place. Still looks oddly familiar"

Sam ignored the rest of what she said feeling blood drain from his face.

"I'm sorry," he said cutting her off mid flow "but you don't know where they took him do you"

"Closest hospital I'd imagine" she said looking downcast that her eager listener would be off.

"Thanks" Sam said with a nod and faint smile. A weak smile he imagined. It was taking all he had to keep upright.

It had to be Dean, where else would Dean be? Sam grabbed his phone out his pocket and started rapidly dialling Dean one last time in some desperate hope. As far as he knew all Dean was suffering from was headaches and hand aches. Still Dean had been near dead, perhaps

Sam shook his head. No. He would let it happen again. Not now.


John sat in the truck not really seeing the road in front of him. Not really hearing the blaring radio or even the engine under him.

Dean's son

Dean had a son, was…had been a father.

He'd not just failed his boys but another as well a…his grandson.

His head still couldn't understand it all, could not process. Not now it had sunk in.

Known what to do the minute that Bobby's statement had rung through the air with a knife. He'd buried his fists in him. Dean's boy was out there unprotected and Bobby had known all this time? He'd been doing it again, putting the hunt, the coming war before his family. And yet again Dean would suffer for it.

He'd walked out of there then, left them to it. He had no doubt that they would follow him, just as he knew that he would join back with them once the boy was safe. But for now, for this moment the boy was what was important.

And whatever mysterious activity was there, was a threat to his grandson, he'd kill it.

For Dean.


Dean's eyes stared blankly up at the world, but completely unseeing. It was unnerving Sam thought, and horrifying. Every so often his body would spasm but the look of nothing on Dean's face never went away.

"Your brother has nothing medically wrong with him"

"He's in a coma"

"every test that we run comes back negative. Even the convulsions don't register as normal. We have no idea what is wrong with him. I'm calling in a specialist but, I'm afraid sir that your brother may not last that long"

"I'm sorry"

Sam sat on the chair in the room, steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his thumbs. He'd called Matthew earlier to tell him what had happened. He'd have to leave soon to strengthen the protection on the house, and on James.

But he had no idea what to do with Dean. Anything he did in a hospital room would be undone by nurses or cleaning staff. Yet something, or rather, Sam suspected, a certain demon had it in for Dean and leaving him unguarded would be stupid. He shook his head as he felt dampness swell behind his lids and his vision grew glassy. He sniffed and pressed his lips together.

Girl a voice sounding like Dean's echoed in his mind. He smiled faintly at it.

"I…" he trailed off and took a deep breath rubbing his hands together. "Dean…"he shook his head "I hate this man. I have to go, and if you were here you'd want me to go. But…" he trailed off and looked down. Finally he looked up after several minutes and moved closer to the bed. Leaning down he put his mouth to Dean's ear.

"I don't know if you can hear me Dean but…I'll do it, I swear. I'm doing it. He'll come first, whatever happens in this, I promise he will come first"

Sam stepped away barely containing his tears, telling himself that he had to walk out of this room and leave his brother behind. But he couldn't move, it was if the moment he did so he would betray Dean. The second he made that move it was irreversible. And every second he stood here was another second for James to be in danger. And Dean could still be here when he returned.

Sam closed his eyes and moved one foot to the door, feeling as if he was falling. The next step was easier and easier.