A/N - This fic started out being just a simple short that was going to be chucked in emails to a few specific folks... nothing major really... but thanks to Catbeist and Nevermore... (they're the ones who convinced me to post it... so if you like it thank them... if you don't... I bear that blame)... it's being posted... so... that said... when all is said and done the title will be more clear. It's only 3 parts so no worries about another long drawn out fic from sifi... not right now anyway.
Okay then... hope y'all like.
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...Or It could been like this... - SN-fic. – part 1
by: sifi
--
Air locked in his throat as he startled awake, his eyes holding fast to the ceiling, his spine frozen in place. Don't move... don't look... it's here... but he couldn't help himself and felt his eyes move despite the certainty that whatever was there with them would hear the movement.
"...just a dream love... t'sokay... just a bad dream... shhh now..." he could feel her smoothing his hair from his face, his pajama top steamy and stuck to his back.
'No mommy... he was here! He was big and mean and dark and he said things... he... I didn't hear them... but I did... in here!' he protested patting his chest where his heart lay.
"No my sweet boy... it was just a bad dream... remember what does mommy say?" she asked smelling faintly like chocolate chip cookies and the baby magic they squirted into Sammy's bath water.
'...there's angels watching us...' he rushed out then shook his head, '...but he... it... they can't stop it! They can't!...and it says things that hurt...' he could feel tears sting his eyes even now, as they had then.
Mary leaned back, her smile gentle and her expression wide open, "Can you tell me what it said?" she asked.
He could feel himself shake his head back and forth, he didn't want to. He didn't want to say words that he knew were going to hurt his mommy, and if he told her what the big dark said...well not so much said... but what it made him feel... then mommy might get scared... mommy might think he didn't want his baby brother and she might send him back to where he was before, then he'd be all alone and Dean wouldn't be able to make sure that big mean dark never hurt his little Sammy. Besides, what it said just made his head and heart hurt with confusion, after all, how could someone who wasn't supposed to be born, be born?
"...shhhh..." she soothed holding her little man against her chest with her lips pressing the damp corn silk of his sandy hair, "...t'sokay baby... t'soaky... the angels will look over us...all the scary things are going away for the night..."
He could feel her tucking the blankets around him, her lips warm and soft against his forehead while her finger stroked his cheek and he caught another waft of vanilla sandwiched between mommy and Sammy-smell. He sighed, his eyelids dropping as the sandman passed by and mommy kissed them closed.
'Turn on Scooby mommy... and Sammy's balloon...' he yawned rolling onto his side, his backside pressing against Mary's leg and hip while her hand lingered on him just until she was certain he'd gone back to sleep.
"I will love..." she whispered kissing him again and rose to fulfill her promise to her eldest.
"Dean? What're you doing?" John asked trying to hold back a yawn. "Dean? Answer me..." he pressed stepping into the room where his oldest boy stood stonily above his 3 year old brother. He cocked his head to the side noting the blurb of pillow with the classic cars on the case, on the floor at Dean's side.
"Dean?!" he tried again, more sternly this time. What the hell? and finally he turned on the light, just unnerved enough to risk waking his young fireball who'd inevitably wind up running riot through the apartment they were subletting. It would be long after the sun was up, and the local stations started their morning programming before Sam Winchester settled down again if he woke up now.
"Dean? What's wrong? Is Sammy okay?" he muttered shambling into the room, while adrenaline zipped through his systems and the Marine in him snapped-to smartly.
"Dean!" he barked grasping his oldest boy by the shoulders, pulling him away from Sam where his hand had covered the youngest Winchester's nose and mouth. "Oh geez, oh shit... Oh God!" he moaned watching Sam's chest rise sharply with a deep intake of breath before his color went from high pink back to normal. The mop headed toddler worked his mouth, blinked his eyes and was almost instantly back to sleep.
"What the hell did you think you were doing!?" John turned on his eldest, his voice a roar of fear he was pretty sure it had only ever made once before. "Dean!" he rounded, careful not to hurt his boy as he grabbed him by the shoulders and leaned forward to peer into his blank face.
"Dean?" he asked, his hand trembled when it came up to cup his sons' chin, "Talk to me dude..." my God he's freaking sleepwalking! What the hell! I mean WHAT THE HELL! He's never done this before! Has he? Oh God has he? What if he's...? he felt himself starting to panic while he ran through a list of all the injuries and ailments his baby had ever had, wondering now if any of them could have come... God no... at the hands of his big boy.
I'll be damned if you're staying in here tonight... I need some answers! he picked his seven year old up, feeling his still comparatively little body go limp as his breathing deepened and his arms draped over John's shoulders.
John paced for a little while, Dean in his arms, and when the energy of his fear began to burn itself out he sat in the recliner, Dean in his lap clutching his pillow to his chest, oblivious to the fact that he'd been only moments away from having killed his little brother.
--
John jerked back in the chair so hard he almost fell over. In the anteroom he saw his boys sitting on the floor, Sammy squealing and clapping, unabashedly delighted watching his big brother make a show for him with a couple of stuffed animals.
A grateful exhalation rolled out and he returned his focus to the man sitting at the desk before him, even as his ears strained behind him.
"I just don't understand it...he's always been... I mean ALWAYS... from the moment we put Sam into his arms, but this... and lately... well... it's confusing..." he muttered wondering now at the quiet behind him. He turned and looked again to find his youngest now with the two stuffed animals, making them bounce hand in hand over the landscape that was his oldest boy who lay on his stomach very intently poring over some kind of search game in a puzzle book.
"How so?" the man before him asked softly and waited, measuring John's reluctance to talk and weighing it against his obvious concern for the boys.
How so?... I'll tell you 'how so'! It's like he's... like something's got him scared... just sometimes though... he recalled a couple nights ago when he'd gone in to check on the boys and found Sam in Dean's bed, which wasn't unusual in and of itself, but to have found Dean curled on the floor across the room WAS unusual. John had chalked it up to Dean finally wanting to sleep alone, hoping maybe he was growing out of the need to know Sam was close by and safe. Yeah but then the other day... his brows furrowed, Dean at the cheap pressboard coffee table working through the newspaper bridge game in the comics section, Sam was coloring, he slid the book to Dean patting him on the arm to get his attention, and Dean had cringed. Only for a moment, but in retrospect John knew, it WAS a hint of fear that I saw... what the HELL is going on? Is there something wrong with my boys? But it's just those tiny moments...look at them... they're FINE... NORMAL, just like they've always been...
"Listen Mr. Winchester... John... let's put something on the table right now okay?" he suggested, something in his tone drawing John's attention back to him.
"Bobby wouldn't have sent you to me if he didn't think I could help... so let's just put this aside..." he removed his clerical collar and put it into his desk drawer, "...and talk like a couple of... nearly normal men okay?"
John chuckled, hanging his head and shaking it side to side, "Bobby said you were a little bit different..."
"You have NO idea..." Jim nodded sagely.
A short time later John stepped from the office to retrieve his youngest.
"Everything okay dad?" Dean asked looking up from the 'can you find it' game.
John smiled and ruffled his boys' hair, "Yeppers...how're you doin'? You hanging in okay?" he nodded.
Dean shrugged, "Yeah, fine... it's kinda nice here... the air conditioning works... why're you takin' Sammy? Was he too loud?"
"No, no... Pastor Jim just wants to meet you boys... I figured he should probably meet Sam before he crashes..."
Dean nodded, "Mmm kay," and returned to the pages before him as John entered the office and closed the door.
In another few minutes John, with Sam in his arms and a smile that made Dean's stomach do funny fluttery things, emerged and sat on the couch.
"Dean?" Jim smiled easily in the doorway.
The eldest Winchester was on his feet in a flash meeting the Pastors' eyes, his own were wide and open and there was a grin trying to crawl out onto his face. He'd liked this Pastor almost at the same instant that the older man smiled and ushered them in with a soft warm voice that felt like it would always be there, even though he only knew a Pastor was a kind of a priest, "Yes sir?" he looked at John who nodded, his arms wrapped around Sam who bounced playfully on his knee.
Jim extended his hand and smiled as Dean shook it heartily, "I'm Pastor Jim... I'm a friend of your Uncle Bobby's, he asked me to get to know you boys a bit..." he started, closing the door behind them, leaving John and Sam in the foyer.
--
For the next few days John kept a close eye on both of his boys. He moved the recliner across the living room so he could glance into their room any time he wanted and watch for any more sleepwalking incidents from his eldest. Jim seemed convinced that Dean was normal and healthy and that perhaps the event was, hopefully an isolated one. John wasn't so sure, but 72 hours of vigilance, aside from making him a little loopy, was working hard to set his mind at ease once more.
He leaned his head into the crook of the recliner, the sound of his boys playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lulling him to sleep where he dreamed of playing tug-o-war against some faceless darkness he couldn't identify, his boys, connected, Dean's hands holding tight around his little brother's neck while his face turned purple. He could hear Sammy gasping, coughing, each exhalation coming closer to taking him from John forever. He wanted to tell Dean to hold him by his feet not his head...
"Dean!" he barked himself awake, his eyes instantly seeking out his boys. He was on his feet in a flash as Dean pounded a red-faced Sammy on the back. The fear on his face made the older son wonder if he was doing something wrong as a grape flew out of Sam's mouth rolling to a stop just under Shredder's claw.
"What happened?!" John demanded, something in his eyes making Dean flush with shame.
"Sammy swallowed his grape wrong...Dad are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?" Dean asked as Sam climbed tearfully into John's arms, hiccoughs of fear catching in his throat.
"Sammy you okay?" John asked his baby who nodded, his tears already drying.
"No more grapes..." he shook his head then laid it on John's chest.
"No siree bub... no more grapes for you..." he chuckled holding his little one in one arm, and grasping his eldest with the other, "You did good Dean... good job son..." he squeezed them both tight.
"Dad what's goin' on?" Dean asked softly, the way his father had been looking, and more importantly, looking at HIM the last few days was making his skin crawl.
Sam stuck his thumb into his mouth, curled in John's arms and his eyes started to droop. John set him on the couch covering him with a light blanket then walked his first born into the kitchen area.
"Do you ever remember your dreams Dean?" he asked. This was one of the conversations he and Jim had talked about having with the boy. After they'd checked Sam over in Jim's office for bruises and signs of abuse John had breathed a misty eyed gasp of relief while he'd clutched the youngster to him, just rocking him back and forth until he was able to collect himself.
"Sometimes..." Dean nodded, "Dad what's goin on? You haven't slept, you're jumpy, and the way you look at me now... did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"God no... I'm not mad at you Dean... but I am a little scared..."
"Why?"
"Let me ask you... do you remember ever waking up in the middle of doing something you don't remember starting to do? You know... like... getting a glass of milk or... making a midnight snack... or..." trying to suffocate your little brother?
Dean seemed to think on it and slowly nodded, "...sometimes when I gotta pee in the middle of the night I don't remember getting up... but I'm still in the bathroom...why?"
John chuckled and nodded cupping his sons' cheek, "... do you know what sleepwalking is?"
"Is it just like it sounds? Walking around while you're sleeping?" he asked.
John nodded, "A few nights ago... I woke up and you were sleepwalking... scared me silly Dean... I couldn't wake you up...course then they say you shouldn't wake up someone who's sleepwalking cause they'll go bahooties..."
"Bahooties?"
"Yeah...you know... nuts..." like it might separate the soul from the body, and I'd lose my boy... I couldn't live with that... I can't lose any more...
"Oh... did I do something funny?" Dean asked.
Funny? No... definitely not funny... "No... just scared me a bit is all..."
"So that's why you've been watching me so much?"
"Yeah..." John nodded ruffling his hair.
"Oh... jeez dad why didn't you just say something? I thought you were mad at me or something... I thought I did something wrong... like one of those things you go hunting for..." Dean sighed, visibly relieved.
"No! God no!... Don't be silly..." he nearly choked but rested his hand on Dean's shoulder, "Listen I just want you to know... no matter what... you can always talk to me Dean... nightmares, problems at school, problems with anything at all... we can fix anything if we work together okay? You, me and Sammy... there's nothing we can't handle okay?"
Dean nodded smiling widely, "I know dad... we're a team... always have been..."
"That's right..." John nodded commanding the sting of tears to stand down.
Dean frowned and touched his father's haggard face, "You look tired dad... why don't you take a nap with Sammy? I'll be okay watching tv..."
Slowly John nodded, reaching over to press his lips to his son's hair, "That's a good idea son..." he nodded again taking Sam from his place on the couch and moving into the bedroom where he lay on his back, his baby on his chest sleeping so soundly his thumb had never moved from his mouth.
"Sleep good dad..." Dean wished softly swinging the door almost closed and returning to his cartoons.
--
Dean peered carefully around the curtain by the front door, moving slowly so as not to cause the slightest rustle of fabric lest it be someone they didn't know, or worse yet, some thing that might know them. John had explained that his new job might make certain people and, things mad at him, so they had to be very careful now.
Dean wasn't sure he understood entirely, but just like Sammy was his to take care of, daddy took care of them. Like a good C.O. there was nothing he did that he didn't weigh against the welfare of his boys.
Dean opened the door and smiled, "Hi Pastor Jim..." he fairly whispered.
"Hi Dean..." the older man grinned but noticed that the young boy was still blocking entry into the apartment.
"Dad's... kinda... occupied right now..." Dean said, the barest hint of regret in his voice. He wanted to let this man in, he wanted this man to be part of their family... there was something about him, something that was kinda golden and warm, like sunshine through tree leaves on the hottest summer day... just cool enough to be refreshing and just warm enough to remember it was summer.
Pastor Jim leaned forward, his mouth by the young man's ear, his short burst of whispering tickling John's son.
Dean's eyes grew wide and he opened the door admitting the family's new friend.
"Open sez me..." Dean quipped softly and smiled as Jim moved straight into the kitchen to stuff the huge brown paper bag in his arm into the refrigerator. "What's that?" Dean asked.
"THAT... is dinner... you wanna help me unload the grill?" Jim asked.
"Really?!" Dean's eyes lit up again.
"Sure thing..."
"Yeah! Kay... hold on... I gotta tell dad..." he grinned, dashing into the bedroom before Jim could suggest he tell John.
Jim followed Dean to the bedroom, "Hey John... Dean's gonna help me get the grill set up okay? We'll be between the car and the patio..."
"Mmmm" John groaned, "Dean make a list for the store..."
The eldest son looked between John and Jim holding back a smirk, "'Kay dad..." he tried not to laugh.
Sammy raised his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes while he pulled a slobber covered hand out of his mouth, "Dee?"
"Nuh uh runt... a barbeque's heavy stuff... you keep dad company 'kay?" Dean stepped up and kissed his little brother on the head.
"Mmm 'kay..." he rested his head again, his fist finding its way back into his mouth and was out once more.
"C'mon! I'll show you!" Dean could feel himself nearly bouncing like a human super ball as he took Jim's hand and after first checking to make sure he had his key, led him outside into the parking lot.
"Did you guys plan this? What'd you bring for dinner? Is there stuff we need? Should I make a list?" he rocketed at the young Pastor then stopped in the parking lot, scanning it for a car that matched one he'd seen in the church lot.
Jim stopped when Dean did, he'd felt something with this boy the other day. Something strong and gleaming inside him that just made him practically hand his heart to the boy. If there really was something going on here, if this was the same young man John had seen holding his hand over his little brother's nose and mouth, there had to be something horribly amiss, and Jim was going to find out what it was.
"OOOh is that it?" Dean asked grabbing his hand and leading him toward the silver Astro Van sandwiched a yellow Volvo and brown Bonneville.
"Dang you're good!" Jim nodded impressed, especially since there were three other similar types of vehicles on the lot, "Let's go..." he grinned.
--
"DaaaaDY!" Sam half yelped, smacking his open palms against John's vibrating rib cage.
"Mmm uh?...wha?..." John snorted through the haze of exhausted sleep that had claimed him with savage finality after a hearty steak dinner with Pastor Jim.
"Daddy! Come ON!" he squealed tracing the line of his fathers arm down to his fingers. He grasped them as hard as he could and pulled.
"Sam?" John grunted waking up far more quickly now, "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked grasping his boy into his arm, the blurry sleep in his eyes following the line of Sam's hand.
"Dean..." he said simply, his lips bowing downward, quivering while tears magnified his eyes to anime proportions.
Oh my god... "Sammy what happened?" John asked thumbing away a small line of blood from the corner of his baby's mouth.
"Deeean!... got a uh-oh..." he squirmed nearly out of John's grip but only settled when his dad finally moved into the bedroom.
Less than half a dozen steps later John flipped the light switch and scanned the room, his big boy was not readily visible but he swallowed his fear, ducking down to look under the beds before turning to the closet.
"Dean! Come on out now...it's okay... it's gonna be okay son..." he called softly, working to keep the fear from his voice, though with his tightening grip he was sure Sam sensed something.
He turned, his face a mask of confusion for his littlest one to see, "... in there?" he asked noting his boy pointing at the closet door, his mouth turned down, a bruise already visible on his sweet young face. He nodded, his lip quivering while his eyes bulged wide questioning and scared, though John didn't think it was fear for himself. John set his baby on the floor just outside the bedroom door, "Don't you dare move young man! Do you understand me!?" John ordered sternly.
Sucking both his lips into his mouth while tears fell freely, three year old Sam Winchester first nodded his head, then shook it. He didn't understand. That was his brother in there and even though he'd hit him for some reason, there was nowhere else it was more important for him to be than with his very own Dean.
"Just don't move unless I tell you to..." John amended his order.
Sam understood that much and nodded, his arms at his sides, his tiny chest hitching softly in the late hour while he watched daddy move to the closet door.
Time stretched with cold rubber slowness, brittle and threatening to snap at any second as John reached for the closet door, "Dean?" he called softly, his body coiled and ready to move in almost any direction. The air thickened throughout the room, tension rolling through the doorway into the living room as tangible as a Pacific Northwest fog was visible. Sweat trickled down his spine sending shivers back up to the hackles that stood on end.
His hand came to rest on the knob and in that last second he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and begged for his son to be alright, then he opened the door.
--
Get UP JOHN! he heard, "Mary?" he muttered shaking his head, making his eyes roll in different directions trying to clear the clouds from his vision.
"DadDY!" Sam cried from somewhere beyond his sight, "Daddy g'up daddy!... G'up!" then the voice of his youngest was silenced and nothing else mattered.
--
tbc.
Please R&R.
Thank You.
sifi