Summary: Visions, Madness, killer ghosts and Dean annoys a priest. Small town America strikes again. Rated T just to be safe, nothing too graphic although later chapters may get a bit bumpy. The story is set not long after Nightmare in season 1. This is my first attempt to write anything so it may take a little while to get going so please bare with me, it'll all make sense in the end I hope. Reviews and advice welcomed, even if it's don't quit the day job.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize and I'm certain no one would want to pay me for doing this.
Sam whimpered softly, pulling his small body into an even tighter ball, trying to block out the driving rain that had long since soaked him through. He was cold, wet and scared, and he wanted Dean. He wanted his brother so bad it physically hurt, he wanted him to rescue him, to take the hurt away and make him feel safe again. He should have never have come into this stupid wood, it was all Cases' fault and now the other boy was gone too, going for help when Sam had slipped down the riverbank twisting his ankle. He felt oddly detached as if the world around him wasn't quite real, "Hyperthermia" offered a part of his brain that sounded a lot older than his ten years.
The child screamed as a dark figure lurched out of the thunder lit darkness. "Whoa, whoa there kiddo!" the figure dropped to its knees as a sudden flash revealed a teenage boy in a overly large windbreaker "I've got you." Sam couldn't quite make out the boys face within the cavernous hood but the voice brought with it an instant feeling of safety, and an odd sense of disquiet that he couldn't quite place. A second smaller figure dropped next to the first. Case!
Time lurched and swam, adding to the growing sense of unreality as the three of them made there ways out of the woods. Sam draped in the older boys arms, feeling as if he was a passenger within somebody else's body. "It's O.K we're nearly their now.", a voice spoke soothingly from above, before pausing as a lone house came into view "Hey, if we're lucky maybe the old man won't be home, yet." the elder boy suddenly sounded a whole lot more cheerful.
Sam stiffened without truly knowing why at the sight of the house, his heart clenching in his chest. He was going to be in so much trouble! The fear was overwhelming and that just wasn't right. John Winchester was a stern man, more than capable of putting the fear of God into both of his boys if the situation required it, but he'd never, ever inspired this kind of all consuming fear….or hate. It was there too, dark and dangerous rising in waves only to be lost again in the myriad emotions threatening to drown the child.
A light flicked on in the house as a tall man came out on to the porch. Strong arms spasmed around him, clutching him tighter as his fear seemed to leach into the boy holding him. THIS WASN'T RIGHT! IT'S NOT REAL! Sam's own voice screamed within his mind, but it was no longer the voice of a child but a grown man. This was a dream it had to be, but something told him, some part of his mind that was still rational told him the dream wasn't his.
Sam shifted, exerting his rapidly dwindling control to stare into the unfamiliar face of the boy holding him, the boys eyes shone with fear and suppressed rage but worst of all helplessness. Whatever was going to happen, whatever the child he now inhabited feared would happen. This boy couldn't protect him and it was killing him.
Prompted by some instinct that was not his own, Sam through his arms around the boys neck whispering "It's O.K, when I grow up I'm going to save us all. I promise."
"Give me my daughter, NOW!" Sam began to scream as hands grabbed him from behind pulling him from the boys arms.
He couldn't breathe, something was holding him, chocking him. Suddenly the hands were back pulling him into sitting position, clawing as his chest, at his throat. "SAM! BREATHE!" and he could. Sucking in air in great shaky sobs, he tried to get his addled brain to work. Dean! Dean was here, Dean had saved him. Sam's body went limp, only a strong hand planted firmly in the middle of his chest stopped him falling off the bed. The bed shifted as his brother came to sit next to him, his other hand coming up to rub small circles in the center of Sam's back, as he fought to get his breathing back under control.
"Want to explain to me how you managed to half hang yourself with a bed sheet?" Dean sounded pissed but then he always did when Sam did something to scare his brother this bad.