Summary. . . . . . . . . . A look at how Sam's visions could have happened throughout the years.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Just playing in Kripkie's sandbox.

A.N. . . . . . . . As a lover of Sam's visions, and a believer that they never really did enough with them, I thought I would do a series of short chapters based upon them. Well chapter 4 has been lounging around on my laptop such a long time now, it had grown it's own cobwebs, I thought I'd have a spring clean, dusted off the bunnies and got back to work on it. So here it is, enjoy. Peanut x

He shook uncontrollably as the last remaining remnants of the vision slowly deserted his mind. Feeling his legs about to give way, the muscles having lost their usual strength, the bones seemingly disappeared, turned into rubbery jelly. He dropped harshly to the rapidly cooling porcelain of the tub; his knees automatically drawing up to his chest, his too heavy head lowering itself to rest on them, the bony knee caps sticking deeply into his sockets. He pressed deeper willing the pain to ebb, hoping to push away the vicious scenes he had born witness to, but it was no use, eyes open or closed the scenes refused to let up, repeating themselves over and over again.

He sat there ignoring the harsh banging's upon the wooden door that separated him from his new family, and concentrated on quelling his swirling stomach, and breathing through the pain as he had always been taught. He winced as he heard Jess' father add his concerned voice to that of his lover, his battered mind frantically trying to think of a way to explain what was going on. He knew he had woken up screaming, knew that he had scared Jess out of her mind before he had fled their shared room and retreated into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him and locking it, something he would never do at home. He'd clambered into the tub and turned on the water hoping that he could wash away everything that he had seen and everything that he had heard; but all that action did was worry Jess even more, her cries for him to respond, and her banging on the door increasing.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, the showers water gradually cooling as it poured down upon him. He didn't hear the click of the lock as it was finally picked from the other side. He didn't feel the water stop it's tumbling, or the shaking that rattled his frame. Didn't even feel the comfort of his lovers body against his own, or the soft towel that was slowly wiping the dampness from his skin. All he felt, all he could see, all he could hear; was the fear, and the blood, and the destruction, and the noise, and the screams still rattling around his head from the vision; but most of all he could feel, was the fire.

Gradually senses began to return, the tender touch of Jess' hand brushing down his face, her concerned voice whispering in his ear, the eyes of her parents from the doorway. He shifted trying to hide himself, ashamed about what had just happened, but there was no where to go, and there was no way to explain, and anyway it couldn't be true, cause that would mean. . . . . . . . . . . . . . He shuddered violently, as the visions remnants played once again within his mind, as he was reminded of what was to come, of what he had to prevent; but he didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it. It couldn't happen, it wouldn't happen.

He knew he should dig deeper into what he had seen, look more closely at it and begin to take measures to prevent it, getting Jess away for one; but that would mean believing it, and he couldn't. So he pushed it to the back of his mind, locked it away and refused to think about it; if he didn't think about it, it couldn't be true right? He spewed forth apologies, claimed it was just a bad dream, that he was okay, and that he was sorry for disturbing them all so. Jess' parents took his word, but he could see, could tell from her actions, from her features, her eyes, that Jess was skeptical, that she didn't believe him. He waited for her Mom and Dad to leave, waited until they were all alone, before trying to reassure her that everything was alright, that he was okay, that once again it was just a bad dream; hating the fact that he was lying, but knowing there was no way he could tell the truth.

She refused to walk away from him as the lies continued to spew forth, instead reassured him she would be there for him no matter what, that she could wait until he felt ready to open up and talk to her. And she was, every time that same dream haunted his nights, she was there for him, begging him to talk about it, to ease his burden, and lighten the load that consumed him; but he knew he never would, that he would carry the burden himself, wishing every time that he could open up and tell her, yet every time putting it off until the next, each time telling himself that he would leave her to keep her safe, but each time not able to do so; until finally it was too late, until finally the burden broke him, and the dream came true.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . Thanks for taking time out to read, I hope you enjoyed? Peanut x