nightmare [for samefivealbums

[onlytobenormal]

It's dark all around him at first and all Sam feels is deep confusion as he stumbles forward. He's forcing his way through the darkness, ignoring the fact that there are hands grabbing at him roughly, voices hissing things at him... repeating what's already been said to him so many times. At Stanford, from their own father, from that demon... that he's sick and wrong and an endless loop of other things that send shame twisting through him, guilt.

He mumbles a few protests and whatever relief he gets when the darkness melts away and he's fumbling into their apartment is short-lived. The place is old suddenly, decrepit like so many places he's seen in his life and half-expects some poltergeist to start giving him trouble. It reminds him of some old haunted house anyway, not their place... just some sick imitation.

It can't be that easy though, right? There's danger, but it's not the kind he'd honestly prefer. It's in the smell of smoke that sends a spike of dread through him. It only takes a few steps to reach the bedroom to see it up in flames--the bed's burning bright and it's spread to the rest of the room already. His books, that photo album he gave Dean... Just everything of theirs and he just knows, knows Dean isn't there. He's gone or he's hurt... maybe that demon has him and it's finishing the job or he's lost in the flames or-- fuck.

"Dean... Dean, please--" The words are out before he thinks the better of it and Sam's pressed himself into a corner of the room and sunk down to the floor.

He's not stupid... he should be moving. He shouldn't just sit here, but Sam's never been this scared, never felt this helpless. Everything's wrong and Dean's gone, the last thing he had is gone, and while he can't quite remember why this happened... he's pretty sure it has to be on him somehow.

Or maybe it's just his luck because of course this couldn't last. Of course it wouldn't. Like he'll actually get out, like he can keep Dean safe forcing this normal life when they'd already had to deal with so much crap.

It's going to end bad, it's going to end bloody... that's how it goes for hunters, right?

And anyway, Dean's gone, along with Ozzy and whatever else he had that made all of it bearable... he's pretty sure about that.

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[samefivealbums]

Dean wasn't sure where he was. It was dark and the sound was all off. He knew he was outside somewhere. The air smelled like outside... clear and slightly damp. Then, in the next breath, a whiff of smoke. Something was burning.

That smell always gave him a stab of worry if he wasn't the one causing it. A fire he hadn't started was trouble. Danger. He hurried forward, letting his nose lead him to the source.

When he saw their apartment come into view his stomach sank. How many times was he going to have to watch his home burn? Wasn't once enough?

Still, he ran forward. Ozzy might still be in there or worse, Sam. He had to make sure they were okay and since he couldn't see them outside, he had to go in.

"Sam!" He called as he shoved the front door open. "Sammy, are you in here?"