Dream On

Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW and no matter how much we begged, pleaded and sobbed they would not relinquish their hold, which is a good thing really as it means we get to see more of the awesome Winchester brothers on tv.

Spoilers for all seasons.

Hope you enjoy the final chapter.

Chapter Seven

"Who's that? Is that dad?" Dean nervously glanced around but still managed to keep Sam and Bobby in his sight.

"It's not your dad Dean, I don't know who it is but it's not your dad so just calm down there son."

"Mr Singer if you're in I have a delivery for you." The courier pressed his face against the frosted glass but was met with only silence from inside the house and couldn't see any signs of movement from within so straightened up and looked down at the parcel in his hand. He knew Mr Singer had had some kind of accident a while ago and was now confined to a wheelchair so didn't want to make the guy take a trip into town to pick his package up from the depot so he decided he'd hide it behind the enormous planter beside the front door and then slide a note under the door explaining what he'd done.

Five minutes later and pleased with himself for saving Mr Singer an unnecessary journey the courier climbed back into his van and was happily singing to himself as he drove out of the junkyard, giving the shiny black classic car parked around the side of the house an appreciative glance as he passed by.

Dean visibly sagged as he heard the mystery caller drive away from the house. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, his leg was killing him, there was a thudding in his head that threatened to split his skull wide open if he didn't do something about it and he could feel rivers of sweat running down every part of his body not to mention the shivers wracking his body along with the myriad of stabbing, slashing agony raging from the wound in his leg and radiating out to all parts of his body. He knew that the wound must've become infected, could tell from the symptoms, after all he'd suffered them many times before and had witnessed his dad and brother, not to mention others succumbing to the effects far too often during his life. He knew he needed to get help, but from where, who could he trust? Could he risk going to the ER? Maybe he could get in touch with Caleb, or Joshua. No, they would've heard from dad, no he couldn't risk it.

Backing towards the door Dean kept his vision levelled on Sam and Bobby "Don't move, I'm gonna take off and if you try to follow I'll use this." Dean indicated the shotgun with a slight incline of his head.

"Dean you're sick, you need help, let us help you." Sam tried to reason with his brother.

Dean had reached the doorway and placed a hand on the frame to steady himself "Yeah you wanna help me, sure you do, well your kind of help I don't need." Dean forced himself to let go of the door frame and took another step back but was unable to force his legs forward as everything around him swam out of focus, his body felt as though it was on fire and agonising white hot pain exploded in his leg and travelled the length of his body rendering him unable to maintain his balance.

He was aware of the floor rushing up to meet him and readied himself for the impact but instead of his body crashing to the hard unforgiving floor he felt strong arms wrap around him and lower him slowly, gently down until his body was lying flat, his head and shoulders resting against something soft and familiar although for the life of him he couldn't think what it was, fought to get away even though he didn't really want to, he felt safe and anxious and comforted and hurt and wanted, needed, loved and rejected, despised and abandoned all at the same time. God my head hurts he thought as he struggled to hold onto consciousness.

His vision clearing a little Dean squinted upwards, a confused frown lining his face as his eyes came to rest on the downturned full of concern face of his brother and then the world went dark and he succumbed to the pull of the encroaching blackness.


He was aware of a soft voice uttering something but couldn't quite get his brain to put the sounds together, to make any sense. He inched heavy lids apart blinking furiously to clear his vision, to see who was hovering over him.

"Dean, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?"

Dean's body stilled and then came the barely audible heartfelt plea which pierced his heart and had him fighting to comply.

"Please Dean, I need you to wake up, you're scaring me."

Dean concentrated every ounce of energy he could muster until his fingers curled around the hand holding his, the immediate response of 'Oh thank god, I thought I'd lost you' spoken with an emotion filled voice left him feeling safe, wanted, cared for. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity Dean didn't feel the need to get away, felt a warmth spread through his body and allowed himself to relax and drift into an easy slumber.

He remembered waking briefly several times, the sound of muted voices echoing around the room and filtering through the fuzziness filling his head before he drifted off to the comforting place where he could escape facing the reality of his world for just a little while longer.

Sam sat on a hard backed chair, his feet resting on the edge of the sofa his brother lay on and his nose buried in a book. He intermittently raised his eyes to check on his sibling only to return them to the words in front of him when the older man remained motionless.

Having read the same page at least four times and still having no idea of the content Sam gently closed the book and placed it on the floor beside him. He took a quick glance at his brother, not really expecting there to be any change, his face transforming at once from one of silent resignation to a dimple inducing grin at the sight of hazy green eyes following his every move.

"Hey." Sam whispered.

"Hey" Dean croaked out as best he could.

"Just wait there, don't move okay, I'll be back in a sec." Sam gabbled as he ran across the room only to return almost instantly carrying a glass of water filled with ice cubes and a straw.

Holding the straw to his brothers lips Sam encouraged Dean to drink; pulling the glass away after the older man had taken a few sips. "Take it easy, you don't want to over do it." Sam smiled. "How you feeling?"

"Not sure." Was the only answer he got.

Dean lowered his eyes from his brothers face and decided it had to be now or never, he was gonna face whatever it was that had kicked this off. "Sam, what di…"

Knowing where his brother was going Sam tried to stall him, there was no way Dean was strong enough yet to hear everything he knew he had to tell him "We'll talk later Dean, when you've got your strength back."

"No, we, I, have to do this now."

Sam remained silent, not knowing where to begin and was surprised when his brother took the lead.

"Whatever it is I did, I'm sorry, I wouldn't have done anything to hurt mom or Jess, I swear Sam, if I could've saved her I would've even if I died trying, you have to believe me." Dean's voice was raw with emotion as he spoke.

"You didn't do anything Dean, anything that is except be there for me my whole life and it wasn't your fault in any way that Jess died. There was nothing you could've done to save her, I know that, I know that even if I hadn't left with you to go find dad Jess would still have died, yellow eyes meant to take her away from me just like he took mom away from both of us and before you ask you couldn't have saved her either, you were four years old man, I mean, what could you have done" Sam finished.

"But dad said it was because of me, all of it was because of me, you even told me that yourself, said dad told you something about me and that if you couldn't prove I didn't do it then you'd have to kill me, so what did he say?" Dean glanced nervously around the room "Where is he, where's dad?" even as he spoke the words seemed strange to him, unreal, like he was reading from a script or the words had been planted in his mind.

For a moment Sam was dumbfounded, he'd assumed that once Dean woke up he'd at least realise the truth about dad but then he remembered what Missouri had told him, she'd said that Dean would be confused, wouldn't know what was real and what wasn't and Sam knew that he'd have to tell his brother that their dad was dead, gone and he wasn't coming back and he'd have to do it right now or there was no knowing what Dean might do.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sat down heavily on the chair he'd used whilst he kept watch over his unconscious brother. "Okay Dean, I'm gonna fill in the blanks for you. First thing you need to know is that you did nothing wrong, dad was proud of you, loved you and would've done anything to protect you.

Dad died, yellow eyes, the same demon that killed mom and Jess took him, you were in the hospital after the crash, d'you remember the crash?" Sam looked for confirmation from his brother but Dean's face remained impassive and Sam knew that the walls were going back up, Dean was slowly building the barriers around himself again.

"You were dying Dean and there was nothing we could do about it, dad did though, he made a deal and traded his soul for yours, you woke up and were miraculously healed, a couple of hours later dad died." Sam paused again, waiting for some reaction from his brother but when none was forthcoming he continued and told his brother everything including Dean selling his soul to save him, Dean going to hell, being pulled out by the angels, Ruby, Lillith Chuck, everything.

As Sam spoke the images of his words assaulted Dean's mind until finally everything fell into place, like the pieces of a puzzle slotting together, it was all crystal clear, he had it all back, he remembered everything, but there was still one question he needed the answer to.

"What did this to me Sam?"

"It was some kind of dream demon, a real nasty sonuvabitch too, if Sam hadn't done what he did you wouldn't be sittin there now, we'da bin planting you six feet under, again." Bobby's gruff voice cut in.

"How d'you know what to do, have we come up against this before?" Dean wanted to know.

"Not that I can remember and there was nothing in dad's journal" Sam rubbed suddenly weary eyes with the knuckles of both hands before continuing "Missouri gave us the heads up, knew right away what we were dealing with and how to get rid of it."

"Missouri?" Dean questioned, the image of the little black woman scowling at him dancing before his eyes.

"Yeah Dean, Missouri."


Sam and Dean chatted into the night until finally Dean persuaded his brother that he was fine and all he really wanted to do was get some sleep and Sam should do the same when in reality all Dean really wanted was some time to think things through, process all that'd happened, work through everything as his memories finally solidified and became complete, his whole life once again locked away in his brain. He needed to sort through the memories, needed to convince himself that he really was in no way responsible for any of the terrible tragedies that had shaped his and his brother's life.

Tomorrow he and Sam would talk some more and Dean would convince his brother and Bobby that he was fine and in a few days they'd leave, Sam says to visit Missouri but Dean still needed convincing on that one and then they'd hit the road once more and continue to hunt things, save people and do their damndest to prevent the apocalypse.


The End.

Thanks for reading.

impalapal and sunnyjunedays.