Hi guys! Here's a fresh story for you! Um, Dean is about 12 in this chapter, Sam 7 or 8. I think that's all you need to know...
This is just a bit of a prologue, so its short. :)
"Come in, come in! You, children, you must hear what I have to tell you!"
Dean gave the fortune teller a shrewd look, about to refuse, but Sammy looked interested and turned his puppy dog eyes on his big brother.
"Please, Dean! It could be fun!"
I doubt it. Fortune teller's are weird.
"Why don't we go over to the games and try to win a stuffed animal for you, huh, Sammy?" Dean tried.
"Oh, come on, Dean! Please!" his little brother begged.
Dean opened his mouth to refuse, but paused, then sighed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't say no to Sammy.
Dean let his little brother drag him into the fortune teller's tent, sitting down on a cushion on the floor. Call him paranoid, but he grabbed Sammy and pulled him down onto the same cushion. It's not as if they wouldn't fit. Sammy was tiny.
The fortune teller began, her gaze locking on the oldest of the two children before her.
"There will come a day when you will learn things about your brother that will change you, change you both, forever."
Dean's brow furrowed at that.
What kind of fortune teller is this old hag? She isn't even trying to look into that ball of hers.
He would never admit it, but she kinda creeped him out, especially with the way she was staring at him, all wide-eyed and serious.
Not too mention she was talking about his brother.
"Be warned. Your father isn't all he seems, either."
Dean openly rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, right."
The fortune teller didn't seem fazed by his disbelief. "The day will come when you will truly start to doubt your father. And soon after, out of desperation, you will come to me. Your baby brother will be on the verge of death and you will be afraid."
Dean's eyes flashed with anger, all amusement gone at the mention of his brother and death in the same sentence, and he grabbed Sammy's hand, standing up. "I think we're done, thanks."
Sam waited till they were out of the tent, then spoke, his voice shaking.
"Dean, what did she mean by that? I am gonna die?" Sammy asked, sounding frightened, unconsciously moving closer to his big brother.
Dean tightened his hold on his sibling at the thought. "No. No, you'll be fine, Sammy. She's just crazy. Let's go get some cotton-candy, okay?"
Brightening at the idea of food, the two brothers let the strange fortune teller's warnings slip out of their minds.
Unnoticed by the two Winchesters, the fortune teller stood at the door of her tent, watching them walk away.
"Till we meet again, Dean Winchester."