Sam lay on the cheap motel bed, Dean's snoring in his ears. It had been two weeks since the near fatal encounter with a horrible creature. It had tortured Sam, but those wounds had healed, the creature had done something much worse without even trying, it had brought out a part of Sam, a dark part.
Dean had kept his word, for the last two weeks Sam had taken a sabbatical from hunting. Dean had gone out on occasion, but came back within a few days. Sam's arms no longer hurt him, they went stiff occasionally, but other then that, all that was left was scars.
Yet some scars went deeper, the emotional scars would never fade. Sam was far from accepting that though, he was sure that whatever he had undergone, whatever powers he had demonstrated would fade, or at least he kept telling himself that.
Ever since taking a vacation, Sam hadn't had any visions nor did he show any signs of anything weird with him. He no longer saw yellow eyes figures in the shadows and best of all, he didn't have horrifying nightmares anymore. He was close to be, dare he say it, normal.
He stared at the ceiling, the darkness was almost welcoming. It gave Sam time to think, think about Jess, his mom, his dad, Dean, and the demon.
He hadn't known his mother other then pictures and a brief encounter with her spirit, she had saved his life from an evil spirit a long time ago.
He missed Jess so much that it still hurt, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't cross his mind. Her smile, her laugh, her beautiful face, all those things that he loved about her and more. She would have made a beautiful bride, his beautiful bride. He couldn't help but blame himself for her death, if only he had warned her, if only he had told her the truth, if only...
His dad was still an issue, even after his death. It left more questions for Sam, such as: Did hi sdad know why the demon wanted him, how had his dad died, and did his dad know how much Sam loved him before he died. Sam's worst fear was that his dad had died thinking Sam hated him. Far from it, Sam loved his father more then ever, but he and his dad were just so different. They both wanted different things out of life and they clashed so easily. The one thing Sam had wanted out of his father most had been that he treated his sons as sons, not warriors.
Dean was the one solid thing in Sam's life right now, he held the kind of strength that Sam could only wish for. Although Dean had a tough exterior, he had a soft heart, especially when it came to kids and his brother. Sam wasn't sure what his life would be like if anything ever happened to Dean, the brothers relied on each other to keep each other alive and sane. Though there had been times when the brothers got into a squabble or two, especially when it came to their father. Dean had thrown a few punches and normally Sam would take them in stride, though he knew he had one raincheck on Dean, one free hit.
Thinking about the demon made him angry, confused, and worried. The demon had chosen him for something, some big plans. Why him? There were so many things about the connection between Sam and the demon that he didn't understand.
Sam's thoughts went back to the dream he had that night in the hospital, he had watched a dark part of himself kill Dean, was that some sort of vision, or Sam's worst fear manifesting itself into his dreams? Sam would rather die then harm his brother.
Sam laughed as he heard Dean talk in his sleep. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Only Dean would have those kinds of dreams. Sam looked at the clock and sighed, 3:27 am and he still couldn't sleep. Dean had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sam got up off the bed and walked over to the sink to get a drink of water.
He filled the cup and took a long drink, suddenly intense pain ripped through Sam's head, his vision blurred and he dropped the glass on the floor, it shattered, waking Dean up.
"Sam." Dean mumbled sleepily.
Sam couldn't answer, the wave of nausea overtook him as he gripped the sink. His visions had been bad, but never like this. It felt like spikes were being driven into his brain slowly. Images began to show in Sam's mind. Here we go.
Sam and Dean were on the road in the Impala, they were arguing about something. Dean pulled the car over, his face tight with anger. He got out of the car, slamming the door. "What the hell is that supposed to mean Sam?"
Sam got out of his side of the car and walked over to Dean, Sam looked the way he had when he fought with his dad. "You know exactly what I mean Dean, I am sick of your bullshit."
"My bullshit, it's not me who always needs rescuing little brother, maybe I'm tired of carrying your ass everywhere." Dean stopped, Sam's face had gone white. Dean realized he had gone too far this time.
"I never asked you to save me, hell maybe there were times I wanted to die, you were just following dad's fuckin orders!"
Sam turned to walk away, anything to get away from Dean. Dean sighed, pushing his anger down. "Come on Sam." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam turned around, his eyes bright yellow and full of anger. "Don't touch me." Dean felt a powerful force shove him back, he screamed as his body hit the windshield of the Impala,
Dean's head rolled to the side, blood pouring out of his nose and head, a shard of glass impaled his stomach, Dean was dead.