Archive of Our Own ^beta

Title: Failure
Author: agt_spooky
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9,195
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Wincest
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, more’s the pity. Just borrowing!

Author’s Notes: This is the third story in what I’m now calling my Visions Universe. The first story was Stronger Now, followed by Never Again and now Failure.

Many thanks, as always, to my super-awesome beta, and the other half of my brain, charityflint. You always make my stories better. :-)

Summary: Sam and Dean finally learn the truth behind the visions and Dean finds out that his decision back in Kingsburg has serious consequences.

Failure
(Visions Universe #3)
By AgtSpooky

July 27, 2007 

(Takes place after the events of Stronger Now and Never Again)

The time on the bedside clock changed to 2:35 am, and Dean Winchester lay staring up into the darkness of the motel room, his thoughts heavy and troubled. The air was unnaturally still, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. As was Dean.

Unable to quiet his mind, Dean gave up the fight for sleep once again and slipped quitely from the bed, careful not to disturb his younger brother lying next to him. The cheap, threadbare carpeting scratched his bare feet as he padded across the room to the window and stopped before it.

He pushed aside the curtain, looking out into the summer night here in Vermont, the neon ‘Vacancy’ sign casting his features in a blood red glow. There was nothing moving - no people, no cars - not even a firefly to break up the darkness, and Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

For weeks now Dean had been tense, on edge, feeling as though something big was going to happen, but not able to explain it, to put into words why his skin was crawling.

Sam made a soft sound and Dean turned to look at his brother. Sam reached out a hand in sleep to where Dean had been lying, but did not wake, his breathing still deep and even. Dean swallowed and dropped his eyes, missing the feel of his brother’s hands on his skin, Sam’s lips on his. Though they still slept only inches from each other, Dean felt as if they were miles apart these days. And he knew that he was to blame for the distance between them.

These unexplained feelings he was having made him irritable and short-tempered, and Sam, being the only one around, took the brunt of it. He didn’t mean to push his brother away, but he was withdrawing from Sam and into himself more everyday – creating a gulf between them.

The pressure he was under from his visions wasn’t helping, either. The weight of responsibility that came with them – these children’s lives – was threatening to crush Dean. His mind flashed on the body of little Lindsay McDonald, as it always did when he started thinking like this, unable to save her because he hadn’t been quick enough, hadn’t remembered enough.

Dean sighed and looked back out the window. It had been nearly a year now since Kingsburg, and Lindsay. He tried to console himself by reminding himself that he had saved the life of every child since then – Seven year-old Mikey in Georgia, twelve year-old Rebecca in Texas, eleven year-old Jamie in Montana and twelve year-old Joseph in California.

All of the children had been attacked by the same creature as Mikey. That was no coincidence, and Dean and Sam knew without a doubt now that these children were special in some way. Could they be future hunters, as Sam speculated back in Georgia? Dean was leaning more and more toward that idea after speaking with the children after each attack.

They were scared, sure, but they were also strangely curious, asking questions about what the creature was, who Sam and Dean were, and how they knew that thing was going to be there and try and hurt them.

Dean answered them honestly, though it pained him to do so. They knew what was out there now in the dark, their innocence vanishing before Dean’s eyes, just like he’d seen it happen with Sam and it saddened him. But if these children really were destined to be hunters they needed this knowledge, especially if something out there was trying to take their lives.

Dean left them with his cell number and Bobby’s, he and Sam having confided in the older hunter what was going on. Bobby had contacts all over the country and made sure the children were looked in on by a seasoned hunter from a distance every so often.

He heard Sam shift on the bed and his thoughts turned back to his brother.

For Dean, it had been a year of pain and fear and self-doubt, but to see Sam plagued no longer by visions and nightmares, able to sleep peacefully every single night, which had not happened since Sam was a child – it was all worth it to Dean. To take on the visions and nightmares himself was something he would choose to do again in a heartbeat. It had taken some time, but Sam had finally come to terms with the decision that Dean made that changed both their lives. But sometimes Dean could still see a brief flash of anger in Sam’s hazel eyes, though those moments happened rarely now.

Dean started as a large hand settled on his bare shoulder. So lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even heard Sam leave the bed and cross the room.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked softly, voice rough with sleep.

Irrational irritation flared again and Dean shrugged off the hand, turning to face his brother. "I’m fine," he snapped, and instantly regretted it as he saw the hurt cross Sam’s eyes and his brother turned wordlessly away.

"Sam, no, wait." Dean reached out and caught his brother’s wrist. "I’m sorry, I – " he trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

Sam turned back to face him, concern etched across his features. "I’m worried about you, Dean. What’s been going on with you? You’re not sleeping, you’re tense, angry all the time…" Sam let his hands settle on Dean’s waist, just above the waistband of his boxers. "I miss you, Dean," he said quietly. "You’re here…but you’re not. I wish you’d talk to me instead of pulling away."

Dean shook his head, tipping it down briefly. "I’m sorry, Sam," he said again. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me. These feelings…"

"What feelings?"

Dean blew out a breath. "My skin’s crawling, like something’s about to happen, but I can’t put my finger on it and I can’t shake it off."

"Something like…a vision?"

Dean shook his head. "I’ve never felt anything like this before one of them. No, this is something different."

"Do you think it’s just stress?" Sam asked. "I’m not blind, Dean. I see the pressure you put on yourself with the visions. And it’s getting worse. You’re always on edge waiting for the next one. You’re strung so tightly that sooner or later you’re gonna snap, Dean."

"These kids’ lives – "

"I know, Dean, I know. I’ve been there, remember? I know what the weight on your shoulders feels like. Just…let me help you with it. You were always there for me. Now let me be there for you. Don’t keep all this locked inside. Please."

"You know I’m not good with the sharing and caring stuff, Sam. But I’ll try," Dean promised, "because I don’t want this to happen again, this…distance between us. It’s been killing me and I know it’s my fault." He put his hand on Sam’s chest, feeling the heat of his brother’s skin under his fingertips. "Miss you, Sam…" he breathed, leaning toward his brother as Sam’s head dipped down.

Their lips met, tentative at first, but after weeks of no intimacy, the contact was electric and Dean’s breath stuttered. They pulled back and Dean could see the naked desire reflected in his brother’s eyes, as Sam’s hands tightened on his hips. Dean cupped the back of his brother’s head and this time their mouths clashed together, twin moans filling the air as their tongues slid against one another.

Dean was like a starving man, hungry for Sam’s touch, his taste, everything. He pressed closer to his brother, winding his arms around the taller man, fingers digging into soft flesh, feeling Sam hold onto him just as tightly.

Their mouths slanted against each other again and again, breathing harshly, and Dean gasped into the kiss as Sam pushed a thigh between Dean’s legs and cupped Dean’s ass through his boxers.

Dean was helpless to stop his hips from bucking forward, humping against Sam’s leg as his cock swelled. Dean broke the kiss with a groan at the delicious friction, at the sweet pressure against his balls. Sam encouraged his movements, pulling Dean harder against him, biting and licking now at the smooth column of Dean’s neck.

Dean’s arousal was spiraling higher and higher, his hands flexing against Sam’s skin, desperate to get his brother even closer to him. Sam sensed his unspoken desire, his voice deep and rough against Dean’s ear.

"Tell me what you want, Dean…tell me…"

"Sam, Sam," he panted, hips still moving, feeling the hard ridge of his brother’s erection against his leg. "Want you in me, Sam," he ground out. "God, please…"

Sam plundered his mouth at the request, the kiss nearly frantic now, Dean’s heart pounding in his chest, his cock painfully hard, leaking fluid, aching for his brother’s touch.

Sam pulled back, lips shiny and red, hazel eyes nearly all pupil now, face flushed, breathing heavily. One hand left Dean’s ass, moved between Dean’s legs and cupped Dean through the thin material.

Dean threw his head back at the touch, mouth falling open, and tried to focus on Sam’s words as his brother rubbed his thumb against the head of Dean’s cock.

"How do you want it, Dean? Hard and fast?" He stroked Dean quickly, roughly. "Or slow and deep?"

Dean felt dizzy, intoxicated by the sheer presence, the closeness of his brother after too many weeks apart.

"Hard…" Dean managed to get out. "Want it hard, wanna feel you…"

Sam smiled wickedly and kissed him again until Dean couldn’t breathe, before dropping to his knees, taking Dean’s boxers to the floor with him. Dean didn’t even have time to blink and Sam’s mouth was sliding wetly over his cock.

"Jesus Christ!" Dean cried out sharply as Sam started sucking hard, bobbing his head.

Sam’s tongue dipped into the slit before his teeth dragged up the underside of the crown and electric jolts raced up Dean’s spine.

"Oh fuck, fuck," he ground out, hips trying to move, trying to fuck Sam’s mouth, but his brother was holding him tightly.

Dean bit his bottom lip and tangled his fingers in Sam’s shaggy hair, watching as his cock slid in and out of Sam’s mouth and he felt the familiar tingle of his impending orgasm start to build quickly in his balls.

He groaned deeply, and it took every ounce of his willpower to pull Sam off his cock. It slid from between Sam’s lips, blood red and wet with his brother’s saliva.

"Oh god, Sam, wait," he panted at his brother’s questioning look. "Don’t wanna come yet…"

Another smirk from Sam and moments later both men were on the bed, the sheets still faintly warm from their body heat. Sam removed his boxers and blanketed Dean with his long, hard body, kissing Dean again, even more heated this time. Dean felt as if he would fly apart if he didn’t feel Sam inside him and he gripped his brother’s ass, pushing Sam down harder against him, feeling Sam’s hard cock like a brand against his leg.

Thankfully Sam got the message and pulled back just slightly from the kiss, both men panting into each other’s mouths. Dean watched as Sam extended one arm out to the side, palm up, never breaking eye contact with Dean. Seconds later Dean’s shaving kit flew from the bathroom sink directly into Sam’s hand. Dean had to smile at the memory of the first time Sam attempted that and the bottle of lotion smacked Dean in the forehead instead of landing in Sam’s hand. His brother’s mastery of his telekinesis had come a long way since then.

Sam was searching through the contents of the shaving kit, finally holding up the tube of lube triumphantly before shoving the rest of the kit off the bed.

"Turn over," he told Dean, kissing him swiftly before sliding off of his brother.

Dean flipped over onto his stomach, raising his hips as Sam slipped a pillow beneath him and he couldn’t stifle the groan as he pushed his cock down into it. He heard the snick of the cap opening and then a slick finger was rubbing against his entrance.

Dean spread his legs and nearly sobbed when that finger slid smoothly inside him in one continuous move. Sam’s prep was quick – one finger, then two, Dean impatiently pushing back, then humping into the pillow, all while Sam licked and kissed and nipped his way down Dean’s back, to the swell of his ass.

"Enough, Sam, want you, c’mon," Dean finally said, his body practically shaking in want and need and desire, the pillow beneath him damp with precome now.

One last bite to his ass that made Dean jerk and Sam was withdrawing his fingers, leaving Dean feeling open, ready for his brother.

Sam moved between Dean’s legs and took hold of Dean’s hips. "C’mon, Dean, lift up, on your knees…"

Dean rose and gripped the headboard with both hands, his stiff cock bobbing, his heavy balls hanging down. There was blunt pressure against his entrance, Sam’s cock slick with cool gel, pushing, pushing…

Dean let go with a hoarse cry as he felt his body give, opening up to take his brother in, the head of Sam’s cock breaching him. His knuckles were white on the headboard as he felt himself stretched wider and wider, words tumbling from his lips.

"Don’tstopDon’tstopDon’tstop…"

And Sam didn’t. Just kept pushing until he was all the way inside, until Dean could feel Sam’s balls brushing his ass, could feel the tremors running through his brother’s body. They remained that way for a long moment, their breathing loud in the room, until the burn of penetration subsided to a throb of pleasurable fullness and Dean pushed back.

And that’s all it took, that slight movement to let Sam know he was ready, and then his brother was fucking him hard and fast, just like Dean wanted. Sam pulled nearly all the way out of Dean’s body before thrusting back in, snapping his hips, over and over, rocking the bed.

"Feels so fucking good, oh god, Dean, feels so good…"

"More, Sam…more…" Dean practically begged, trying to spread his legs even wider.

The air in the room was humid now, filled with the sounds and smell of sex, of two men striving for blessed, sweet release and Dean could barely breathe, his head spinning with lust and arousal. His body was slick with sweat, Sam’s hands slipping and regripping his hips, digging into the thin skin there, leaving bruises.

"Deeper…" Dean’s breath hitched, caught in his throat, "…please, please…"

He heard Sam grunt, then his brother was bending over, covering Dean’s back, changing the angle of penetration just enough that his next hard thrust hit that spot deep inside Dean that made white spots explode across his vision.

He cried out brokenly, pleasure spiking though his body as Sam stimulated his prostate ruthlessly, again and again. Dean was shaking and Sam’s arms around his chest were essentially the only thing holding him up.

Dean wanted to come so badly it hurt, but he had missed this so much, missed being so intimately connected to his brother like this that he wanted it to last, wanted to feel Sam inside him always.

Sam’s breath was hot and damp against his neck, his voice rough and fucked out as he whispered into Dean’s ear, "Love this…love this so much…and you, love you, Dean…"

The tenderness in Sam’s voice brought moisture to Dean’s eyes just as Sam reached down between Dean’s legs and curled his hand around Dean’s cock. It only took one stroke, one drag of Sam’s thumb across the leaking head of his dick and Dean’s orgasm ripped through him with a force that made him scream out with the intensity of his climax. Lightning surged up his spine as his cock pulsed in his brother’s grasp, coating Sam’s hand and the bed in thick, white ropes of semen as Dean struggled to pull enough oxygen into his lungs.

His body clamped down forcefully around Sam’s thick, hard cock and Sam’s guttural moan was loud in his ear as he pounded into Dean once, twice more before thrusting in one last time, impossibly further.

"Dean!"

Sam’s cry was sharp, an instant before he came, filling Dean with slick, wet heat and Dean gasped, feeling his brother’s cock throb deep within him as he climaxed, shaking against Dean.

"Oh god, Sam…yeah, yeah…"

A moment later Sam went completely boneless, slumping to the side, bringing Dean with him, holding Dean tightly to him as they both trembled through the aftershocks of their powerful orgasms, Sam still inside him.

As their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, lethargy like Dean had never known descended upon him, his limbs like lead weights, unable to keep his eyes open a moment longer.

"Sam…" he murmured.

"Shhh…" Sam’s hand was gently rubbing his chest, soothing. "Just sleep, Dean," he whispered. "You need it."

Dean’s hand weakly clutched at Sam’s. "Don’t…"

Dean could feel Sam’s soft smile against his hair. "I won’t. I’ll be right here."

"Love you, Sammy…"

Weeks worth of tension gone from his body, and his mind finally, blessedly blank, Dean gave in to the pull of sleep, surrounded by his brother.

~~~~~

Two days later the Winchesters were still in White River Junction, Vermont. Dean busied himself hustling pool and playing poker in the surrounding towns trying to replenish their dwindling cash supply, while Sam played research geek-boy, looking for their next hunt.

They were both taking a break from their respective "jobs", wandering up and down the aisles of the small, local grocery store, needing not only snacks and drinks, but other supplies as well.

Sam tossed a bag of apples in the cart while Dean was pondering a decision between Twinkies and Ding-Dongs.

"Hey," Sam said. "We’re running low on matches and lighter fluid. They’ve got all the barbeque stuff a couple aisles over. I’ll be right back."

"Hmmm?" Dean replied distractedly, still looking back and forth between the two snacks. "Yeah, okay."

Finally deciding on the Twinkies after Sam walked away, Dean started pushing the cart in the direction of the soda aisle when he felt it – the familiar twinge of pain in the center of his forehead that could only signal one thing.

Dean looked frantically around. God, not in front of all these people, was all he had time to think before he felt the wetness of blood on his upper lip. Then his head exploded in white hot pain and his world went white as the vision overtook him. He couldn’t even break his fall as his legs buckled and he collapsed, hitting his head on the handle of the cart before falling into the shelf then onto the floor.

two girls – one face

people laughing

dark yard

growling

girls running

four red eyes

trees

dark animals

screaming

blood

howling

colorful explosions

Dean’s body jerked and he came back to himself with a shuddering gasp, hearing voices all around him. He made himself open his eyes despite the throbbing in his skull, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He groaned as harsh, florescent lights assaulted his vision and he tried to roll to his side. But hands came down on his shoulders, preventing him from moving. Dean’s visions always left him disorientated and he reacted instinctively, lashing out, unfamiliar faces hovering above him as his eyesight cleared.

"No, no, don’t move!"
"You’ve hit your head…"
"The paramedics are on their way…"
"Are you alright, young man?"

Everything came back to Dean then – the grocery store, his vision – but before he could try and get away from these people, Sam was there, pushing through the small crowd, dropping to his knees beside Dean.

"Dean! Are you okay?" Sam asked, then Dean could see Sam’s eyes take in the blood on Dean’s face and his jaw tightened in understanding.

Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt. "Get me out of here, Sammy," he said, voice like sandpaper.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam replied. "C’mon, can you stand?"

Dean gave a small nod and let his brother help him to his feet, where he swayed for a moment and Sam held onto his arm.

"The ambulance will be here in just a minute," a man spoke up.

Sam shook his head. "No, that’s okay. My brother’s…diabetic. I just need to get him home and give him his insulin. He’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though."

Sam spoke quickly, guiding Dean through the people gathered around and out of the store, down the block to where the Impala was parked. He opened the passenger door and got Dean inside before he hurried around to the driver’s side.

Dean slid down in the seat, eyes closed, head still throbbing as Sam drove them back to the motel. He got himself out of the car and into the room before slumping down onto the closest bed. He heard Sam go into the bathroom, running water, then his brother was back, kneeling beside the bed.

Too tired to protest, Dean let Sam clean the blood off his face with the wet washrag as the pain in his head receded to a more manageable level. Even after a year the visions had never gotten any easier on Dean’s body, like he had told his brother they would. Like he had hoped they would.

Dean blew out a long, slow breath then met his brother’s concerned gaze. "I’m okay, Sam," he reassured him.

Sam looked away from Dean, giving a short nod, before asking quietly, "What did you see?"

Dean closed his eyes, let the snapshots of his vision play across the backs of his eyelids, tried to sort through them.

"Two girls," he started off slowly. "But they’re the same…" his brow furrowed, then relaxed. "I think they’re twins. Maybe 13 years old. People laughing and talking…out on a street. A block party, maybe? Explosions…colors. I think…I think they’re fireworks. The girls are running, chasing each other with sparklers. In a yard behind a house. It’s dark, lots of trees." Dean paused, lips pressed together in a tight line as he recalled the last details, the screaming and the blood. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother. "There were two of those damn things this time, Sam. They killed both girls."

Sam shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit. We’ve got to figure out what the hell is going on here, Dean."

Dean sat up quickly. "Don’t you think I know that, Sam?" he snapped. "We’ve looked into the parents, the kids, everything. There’s not one thing connecting any of these families. They have nothing in common."

"Except that something is trying to kill their children," Sam said wearily, rising to his feet, turning away from Dean. He huffed out a breath and turned back around a minute later. "Is there anything else from your vision? We’ve got fireworks and a party, so it sounds like the 4th of July. But do you know where?"

Dean closed his eyes, tried to pull up some kind of location from the snapshots in his mind. "Ummm…wait, yeah. One of the girls…she’s wearing a shirt…" He concentrated harder. "Mill - Millinocket…park district…day camp…" He rubbed his forehead, then opened his eyes to see Sam smiling at him.

"Good job, Dean," Sam praised him, then sat down at the little table and powered up his laptop. "Let’s see if we can find where Millinocket is…" he trailed off, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Ah, got it. It’s a fairly small town in Maine." He looked up at Dean. "The 4th of July is only two days from now. We need to haul ass to get out there."

Dean was already packing his duffle.

~~~~~

Mechanical problems with the Impala slowed them down, so they didn’t arrive in Millinocket until late morning on July 3rd. Sam had found the town’s own website and pinpointed the location of the park district building, where the day camp’s activities were held. And where Sam and Dean were currently parked outside of, watching for the girls.

It was a long, hot wait. Even with all the windows rolled down, the inside of the black car was sweltering and Dean’s thin gray t-shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his skin by the time 3pm rolled around and children started emerging from the building.

Dean was instantly at attention, wiping the sweat from his face on the sleeve of his shirt, staring intently out the open driver’s window as kids of all ages began walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

Dean’s hope faded as he scanned the faces of all the girls and didn’t see the twins. Dammit, this was their only lead. They had to be here. Then the door opened once more and there they were, laughing and talking with each other as they walked up the sidewalk heading home. Dean let go a relieved breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he watched the young teenage sisters head up the street.

"That’s them," Dean told Sam, pointing out the windshield. "C’mon, let’s go."

They quickly rolled up the windows and locked the car and started following the girls on foot, toward the Main Street area of town. They strolled casually along, on the opposite side of the street from the girls, doing their best to blend in with the locals who were out shopping on this beautiful summer day.

The town was getting ready for the 4th of July celebration, putting up flags and other decorations, everyone blissfully unaware that something was coming to take the lives of two of its children.

Sam and Dean followed the girls at a discreet distance while they continued north out of the main downtown area and made a right turn into the residential section, made up of large homes with big yards and tall trees. There were just enough people out for a casual walk or watering their lawn or working in their flower beds so that the brothers didn’t stick out like sore thumbs, following the sisters.

As Dean and Sam reached the corner where the girls had turned, Dean nudged his brother, pointing. There on the grass, near the curb, was a stack of sawhorses – what you’d use to close off the street for a neighborhood block party. They were in the right spot.

Sure enough, the twins walked halfway down the block before turning up the driveway of a two-story Victorian home and going inside. Dean looked over at Sam, his jaw tight, and nodded. "C’mon, let’s take a look around."

They quickly reconned the area, noting the wooden, chest-high fences that separated each yard, the large park to the south where the fireworks would be shot off from, and a good spot to park the Impala, a block north of the twin’s home.

Now all they could do was wait.

~~~~~

That same uneasy feeling was back, creeping up on Dean as the hours ticked slowly by the rest of that day and into the evening, so the nightmare came as no surprise to him that night.

He was trapped, surrounded by nothing but gray, with dark, menacing shapes circling him. He had no weapons to fight with and tried to tamp down the rising panic in his chest when he couldn’t find Sam. Where was Sam? That’s when the laughter started. Cruel, mocking him, coming from everywhere in that gray place as he searched for his brother. Had to keep Sam safe, had to protect him…where are you, Sam? Where are you? SAM!

Dean’s body jerked, and he came suddenly awake, calling for his brother, startling Sam, who was sleeping with an arm across Dean’s bare chest.

Dean sat up quickly and twisted toward Sam, breathing in short pants, sweat on his forehead, reaching blindly for his brother, hands on his chest, his face…

"Dean. Dean!"

Sam’s voice penetrated the haze Dean was still caught in, between nightmare and wakefulness and he blinked, seeing his brother’s concerned gaze looking up at him.

Dean’s words were slow and heavy. "You’re – you’re here. You’re all right…"

"I’m fine, Dean," Sam reassured him, softly. "It was a nightmare…"

Dean sagged in relief, head dropping, felt Sam’s hand brush his hair. "I couldn’t find you…"

"I’m right here," Sam said quietly. "C’mon, lay back down. Everything’s okay," he continued, and gently tugged on Dean’s arm until Dean laid back down, half on top of his brother.

Sam turned his head and kissed Dean, slow and soft, and Dean felt himself start to relax with each press of Sam’s lips against his own, the panic of his nightmare fading. He sighed into the kiss as Sam wrapped his arms around him, and when Dean made love to his brother, sliding deep inside him, his mind was quiet once again.

~~~~~

They tried to sleep for the better part of the next day, tangled together under the sheet, wanting to be well rested and sharp for what was to come that night. Hunger finally made them stir, and they shared a shower, something that they had started doing before a hunt shortly after the change in their relationship a year ago.

It wasn’t sexual, this showering together that had become almost a ritual for them. Anything could happen during a hunt. Anything. Including death. So it was one last moment to be close to each other, to draw strength from each other as they washed one another in near silence, before sharing one last deep kiss, ready now to face whatever was to come.

~~~~~

Dusk was falling when Dean parked the Impala on the street north of where the twins lived, the summer sky starting to lose some of its brilliant oranges, reds and pinks.

Sam opened the trunk and he first took out a tarp that would hopefully hold the bodies of both creatures, then he and Dean withdrew their machetes, sharpened to a razor’s edge just a few hours earlier. Dean missed the familiar, heavy weight of his chrome plated .45 in the waistband at his back, but with this many people around, they couldn’t risk the sound of a gunshot that would surely bring people running.

It would make this hunt harder, too, without their guns. While bullets wouldn’t kill these creatures, only beheading could, it slowed them down enough to even the playing field. Now the creatures would have the advantage with their speed and leaping ability.

The neighborhood was alive with activity and celebration – lawn chairs out, barbeque grills sending up tantalizing smells, small firecrackers going off in the street, children running with sparklers, conversation and laughter from the block party filling the air.

Dean and Sam wanted to approach the house from the back, undetected, so they could slip into the yard and find a place to wait. They picked a house on the same side of the street at which no one appeared to be at home, and moved swiftly into the back yard. Darkness was falling rapidly now and they needed enough light to see the layout of the twin’s yard, so they quickly jumped several fences, staying close to the trees and the deeper shadows, and made it to the Victorian home without being seen.

As was typical in this neighborhood, the backyard was large with several tall trees lining the edges. There was patio furniture near the sliding back door, a picnic table in the yard, along with a swing set, and Dean spotted a tree house in the biggest tree. All was quiet back here for now, everyone out front enjoying the block party.

Dean took up position behind the tree with the tree house and Sam hunkered down behind another tree on the opposite side of the yard. Dean could feel his heart begin to pound a bit faster as the adrenaline started to course through his body in anticipation of the hunt, and the overwhelming responsibility of yet another child’s life in his, and Sam’s, hands.

Twenty minutes later it was full dark, the stars shining brightly in the cloudless sky, the crescent moon helping to illuminate the yard. Sam and Dean could hear the sounds of more firecrackers being set off out on the street, and someone had turned a stereo on as well.

Dean shifted when he heard footsteps running up the driveway, heading toward the backyard, and a woman’s voice.

"Mandy! Chloe! The fireworks are getting ready to start!"

"Be right there, Mom!" Two voices chorused together, then the girls turned the corner of the house, running and smiling, holding sparklers.

The girls were dressed in shorts and t-shirts, one wearing gym shoes, the other flip-flops. One had her long brown hair tied back in a pony tail, the other let hers hang loose past her shoulders. They ran happily through the yard, just being silly, waving their sparklers about, writing their names in the air, and Dean took note that Mandy had the pony tail and the gym shoes.

And then it happened.

A split second after the first fireworks lit up the sky in an explosion of red and orange, the creatures attacked.

Dean saw their dark, four legged bodies illuminated by the fireworks as they leaped over the back fence, and the backyard became a mass of frenzied motion.

Sam and Dean burst from their hiding places, Sam yelling, trying to attract the creatures’ attention to him and not Dean or the girls, as the twins screamed in fear, drowned out by the next huge firework. The creatures snarled, red eyes flashing, black fur bristling, and changed direction, right toward Sam.

Dean ran to the girls as another firework exploded overhead, herding them away from Sam and the creatures. Their eyes were wide with fear as he pushed them toward the large tree he’d been hiding behind.

"Get up in the tree house! Go! Go!"

Terrified, the twins started to scramble up the wooden slats nailed to the tree and Dean turned back around to check on his brother.

The creatures were nearly upon Sam, and Dean watched as Sam flung out his left hand in a pushing motion, and one of the creatures yelped as it was suddenly lifted off its feet and slammed backwards into a tree next to where Dean was standing. Taking advantage of the creature being temporarily stunned, Dean quickly stepped over to it, raised his machete, and severed its head in one powerful stroke.

Sam only had his eyes off the second creature for a second, but that’s all it took. Still running, it leaped on top of the picnic table and launched itself at Sam, white fangs bared in the moonlight.

Dean turned from his kill and his heart caught in his throat as he saw the creature about to attack Sam, knowing he was too far away to stop it. He yelled out his brother’s name as a firework lit up the night sky and the creature slammed into Sam.

The force of the impact knocked Sam off his feet, one arm raised, trying to protect his face and neck from the creature’s teeth. As he fell backwards his head slammed into the metal pole of the swing set he had been standing in front of. Sam went down hard and lay still.

"NO!"

The cry was torn from Dean’s throat, convinced he was about to see the creature tear open Sam’s neck and kill his brother. So when it abruptly turned its head and instead charged at Dean, he was taken by surprise.

Just as he raised his machete, ready for the attack, one of the girls screamed. Dean’s head jerked up and back, as another firework turned the sky blue, to see that one of the wooden slats had broken and Mandy was dangling by her hands.

Having no choice but to turn his back on the creature, afraid Mandy would fall, Dean dropped his machete, climbed up the bottom two slats, grabbed the bottoms of Mandy’s feet and pushed up.

Mandy’s feet had no more than made contact with the next highest slat and Dean felt the creature’s fangs sink into the back of his calf, tearing through his jeans and piercing his skin.

He couldn’t stop the hoarse cry of pain and he looked down, hearing his brother call out.

"Dean!"

And then the creature was gone, torn away from Dean by Sam’s power, its body flying through the air to land heavily at Sam’s feet. His brother’s machete was a flash in the moonlight as it swept downward, decapitating the creature with one stroke.

Sam was running then, crossing the yard with long strides until he reached Dean, where his large hands went around Dean’s waist, helping him down off the tree.

"Jesus, Dean, are you okay?" he asked quickly when Dean hissed out a breath, trying to stand on his injured leg.

"I’m fine," Dean replied brusquely, trying to hide his grimace. "Just get the kids down."

Dean limped over to the picnic table, feeling the blood drip down the back of his leg, and sat down heavily on the wooden bench as Sam helped the girls down from the tree house. He could see his brother speaking to them, but his words were covered by the continuing fireworks. Sam brought the twins over to where Dean was sitting before nodding at him and moving off to take care of the bodies.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked, voice wavering a bit.

"And what were those things?" Mandy wanted to know.

For the next few minutes Dean did his best to explain, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam quickly laid out the tarp and began wrapping up the bodies in it.

Once again Dean was struck by how composed these young girls were, just like the other children. They didn’t run off screaming to their parents, but listened intently to everything Dean told them, asking a few questions as they tried to comprehend what had happened that evening.

Dean was just finishing with the girls, handing them his and Bobby’s phone numbers when he started to feel lightheaded. A deep throbbing began in his wounded leg and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

"If you ever see something you can’t explain or have questions about…anything, you call me, okay?"

The twins nodded seriously, then smiled shyly at Dean. Chloe reached out and hugged him as Mandy said, "Thank you, Dean." Then both girls hurried out of the backyard, as, appropriately, the fireworks finale began.

Dean stood when he saw Sam approaching and started to sway as the blood rushed from his head. Sam grabbed him by the shoulders before he could fall and Dean took hold of his brother’s arms to steady himself until the world stopped spinning.

"God, Dean, how bad are you hurt? Let me see," Sam told him, trying to get Dean to sit back down on the bench.

But Dean shook his head, taking a deep breath. "No, I’ll be fine. Let’s just get the hell outta here."

Sam’s lips compressed into a tight line and he shook his head at Dean’s stubbornness, then turned and walked over to the tarp, Dean following slowly behind.

They took the quickest possible route back to the Impala, avoiding the neighborhood folks who were now making their way back to their homes from the block party. Sam used his telekinesis to lift up and carry the heavy tarp with the creatures’ bodies in it over several fences as they cut through the yards.

Dean was finally admitting to himself that he was far from ‘fine’ the longer they walked, each step shooting agonizing pain up his wounded leg. He was dizzy, drenched with sweat now, his chest tight, making it hard to draw in a full breath.

He could see Sam in front of him, floating the tarp over the last fence they needed to climb. Just one more and they’d be back to the Impala. He could do this.

Sam hopped over, then turned to look back at Dean, as he gritted his teeth and hoisted himself up on the top of the wooden fence. His arms shook as he swung his legs over, his vision wavering, starting to go dark. The world tilted on a crazy angle as he lowered himself down on the other side of the fence. He tried to take a step toward Sam when his wounded leg buckled and he collapsed.

Sam tried to break his fall, jumping forward, hooking an arm around Dean’s shoulders before his head could hit the ground.

Dean’s breaths were coming in harsh pants, and he felt himself start to shake. "S-Sam…"

"God, Dean, hang on, I’ll get you back to the car. Just hang on."

Dean fought to stay conscious as his brother lifted him up in his arms. Sam’s ability made Dean feel nearly weightless, his head lolling against Sam’s shoulder, as the younger man moved quickly through the last yard and out onto the sidewalk.

They were at the Impala moments later and Sam opened the back door with a flick of his wrist. He got Dean inside and arranged him laying down on his stomach.

"I’ll be right back," Sam told Dean, squeezing his shoulder.

Dean pressed his sweat dampened face into the leather of the backseat, still shaking, and heard Sam open the trunk. His brother rummaged around quickly, then Dean heard the drag of the tarp on the pavement before the car dipped down, heavy now with the weight of the bodies, then the trunk closed.

Sam’s hands were on his leg then and Dean heard the snick of the knife opening.

"I’m gonna cut your pants and look at the bite," Sam said, then carefully slit Dean’s jeans open.

A penlight clicked on. "The bite’s pretty deep, but you shouldn’t be having this kind of reaction to it…" Sam trailed off, worry evident in his voice. "I wonder – " Sam cut himself off and Dean felt the gentle press of his brother’s fingers on his skin. "Damn. Dean, it looks like there’s part of a tooth in there. Must’ve broken off when I yanked that thing away from you. Shit."

Dean took a shaky breath. "Can…can you get it out?"

"Let me get you back to the motel – "

"No. Just…just do it here. Get it over with."

He heard Sam blow out a breath. "Okay. Just give me a second."

More rustling and Dean heard the lid of their well-stocked first aid kit open.

"Alright, I’ve got the tweezers," Sam told Dean, wrapping one hand around Dean’s ankle. "Try and hold still, okay?"

Dean gripped the edge of the seat and nodded. "Go ‘head."

A lightning bolt of pain shot down Dean’s leg as Sam probed the wound and he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to keep from crying out. Sam was good, and quick, and had the broken tooth extracted swiftly, but it still left Dean trembling even harder, breathing in shallow pants.

The sound of the flask of holy water opening reached his ears and Sam squeezed his ankle. "Almost done, Dean. I just need to clean it out…"

The last thing Dean heard was the sound of his own scream as the water touched his skin.

~~~~~

When Dean regained consciousness he was back in the motel room, shivering under the blankets on the bed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, everything muffled; his throat was dry, but his body was soaked with sweat. And his leg – it felt like it was on fire. He moaned weakly with the pain, and felt a cool hand on the side of his face.

"Dean? Dean?"

With effort Dean slowly opened his eyes, blinking until his brother’s face came into focus.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, smiling at Dean, worry behind his eyes. "Are you with me?"

Dean gave a tiny nod of his head, tried to speak and couldn’t.

"Wait, hold on," Sam said, and turned and picked up the glass of water off the bedside table. Dean tried to sit up, but found he was too weak to do even that.

"Here, I’ve got you," Sam said, getting an arm under Dean’s shoulders and lifting him up slightly before putting the glass to Dean’s lips. Dean took several sips, then Sam eased him back down.

"What’s…wrong with me?"

Sam put the water glass down and picked up a washcloth, started wiping the sweat from Dean’s face.

"Whatever these thing are, they’re demonic. Your reaction to the holy water proved it. I called Bobby and Missouri, told them what was going on." Sam paused. "Its saliva – it’s acting like a poison in your body, Dean."

Dean swallowed thickly, trying to concentrate on what Sam was saying, but he was so damn tired and his head was pounding. "Poison?" he finally got out.

Sam nodded. "Missouri told me I need to make a poultice, to try and draw the toxins out. She gave me the list of stuff I need."

Dean was feeling more and more disconnected from his body, Sam’s voice seeming to come from a distance now. He was so cold…

"Dean?" The cool hand was back on his face, thumb rubbing his cheek. "Don’t close your eyes, Dean. I know you’re tired but I need you to stay awake for a little longer, okay?"

Dean blinked, slow and heavy. "S’mmy?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, that’s it. Dean, listen to me. I need to get that poultice on you, but you’re spiking a really high fever, just over 103, and I’ve got to get your body temperature down. I’m gonna put you in the tub, cool you down, then wrap your leg, okay?"

Dean just nodded once, fighting to stay awake as Sam leaned over to kiss his forehead, then pulled the blankets down, exposing Dean’s naked body. Dean immediately tried to reach for the covers as his shivering got worse.

"Cold…"

Sam took the blankets from his weak grasp. "I know you think you are, Dean, but you’re burning up. Let me get you in the bathtub…"

Dean again experienced slight weightlessness as Sam used just enough of his ability to easily lift Dean in his arms and carry him effortlessly into the bathroom, where he heard the taps shut off as they walked in. Gooseflesh rose on Dean’s skin and he tried to curl into Sam’s warmth as his brother kneeled down beside the tub.

The instant the cold water touched Dean’s bare skin he gasped, thrashing in Sam’s arms, trying to get away. "No…no…" he rambled.

"I know, Dean, I know," Sam mumbled into his hair. "I’m sorry, but we’ve got to do this…"

Sam again lowered Dean into the water and Dean fought him once more, water sloshing over the edge of the bathtub, but in Dean’s weakened condition he was no match for his brother, and Dean found himself submerged up to his neck in the cold water.

He was shaking uncontrollably now, Sam’s hands on his shoulders, gentle but firm pressure, and Dean finally gave in, sagging, his head falling back against the shower wall. He let the fever take over then, feeling nearly delirious now with it and the poison coursing through his body.

He had no idea how long he laid there in the bathtub, vaguely hearing Sam speaking to him in low tones, not comprehending the words, sometimes hearing the clink of ice cubes being poured into the water, sometimes feeling a cold washcloth wetting down the top of his head and his face.

What could have been ten minutes or two hours later to Dean, he felt something in his ear for maybe a minute and then Sam was lifting him out of the water, carrying him back to the bed.

There were towels laid out on top of the blankets and Sam quickly rubbed him dry before getting him arranged under the covers.

"Your fever’s coming down, Dean. How’re you feeling?"

"Tired…" Dean whispered.

Sam ran his fingers through Dean’s damp hair. "It’s okay, you can sleep now, Dean. I have to go out and get some stuff for the poultice, but I’ll be back as fast as I can. Just rest."

"Okay," Dean breathed, exhaustion and sickness taking its toll on his body and he closed his eyes…

… only to find himself surrounded by gray.

He was back in his dream-place, his nightmare, but this time Dean knew that this was what he had been dreading, what had been making his skin crawl for weeks. Whatever was about to happen here, this wasn’t just a nightmare…

The gray shifted and a dark shape appeared, quickly morphing into the form of one of the creatures, fangs bared, red eyes flashing, black fur standing on end. It slowly advanced on Dean, but he held his ground, even weaponless, refusing to back down.

"Stop."

The creature halted instantly at the disembodied voice and another shadow appeared, behind the creature, in the shape of a man but with no discernible features, except for one specific thing – yellow eyes.

"Hello, Dean."

White hot anger exploded inside Dean. "You son-of-a-bitch!" he snarled, taking a step forward, but the creature growled deep, jaws snapping, and Dean halted.

"Do you like my pets?" the Yellow-Eyed Demon asked.

"Your pets?" Dean replied incredulously.

"My own special breed of hellhound that do my bidding. It’s thanks to the poison in their bite that left you weak and vulnerable so I could enter your mind and we could…chat."

Dean looked from the Yellow-Eyed Demon to the hellhound and back. "It’s been you behind the attacks on those kids. Sam was right, wasn’t he? They are going to grow up to be hunters and you’re trying to kill them before they can, aren’t you?"

The narrowing of the Yellow-Eyed Demon’s eyes was all the answer Dean needed.

"Is that why I’m here? You want to what? Scare me, threaten me? Stop us from-"

The Yellow-Eyed Demon laughed, cutting Dean off, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.

"No, Dean, you’re here because I want to thank you."

"Thank me? What the hell for?"

"For your failure, of course."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean demanded, a feeling of dread stirring in his gut.

"Poor Dean. All you’ve ever wanted to do was protect your brother. It defines you. And you thought you were so smart, taking away Sam’s visions. Thought it would make you stronger in your fight against me."

It paused, and Dean could almost see it smile.

"You couldn’t have been more wrong, Dean. You’ve actually done me a great favor by relieving Sam of his visions. They were nothing but a nuisance, blocking his true potential, as you’ve seen. But do you think telekinesis is the only thing your brother is capable of? He’s more valuable to me now than ever before."

"I swear I’ll stop you – "

"So how’s it feel, Dean?" the Yellow-Eyed Demon continued, voice taunting, as if Dean had never spoken. "To know that you’re utterly worthless at protecting your brother. That what you did a year ago is your biggest failure of all. I’ve chosen him, Dean, and he will be mine. All thanks to you."

"NOOOO – "

"-ooo!"

Dean sat bolt upright, eyes flying open, disoriented, and Sam was suddenly beside him, holding onto his shoulders.

"Dean!"

Eyes wide, breathing fast, Dean grabbed his brother’s arm. "Sam…Sam…"

"I’m right here, Dean, I’m right here," Sam reassured him. "C’mon, lay back down," he said, gently pushing against Dean’s shoulders.

Dean blew out a breath and sagged against the pillow, coming back to himself, realizing that he was in the motel room with Sam sitting on the bed beside him.

"You back with me now?" Sam asked softly, laying a hand on the side of Dean’s face.

Dean nodded and Sam smiled. "God, Dean, it’s good to see your eyes again. You’ve been out for two days. How’re you feeling?"

"Better, actually," he answered, voice rusty from not using it for several days. His head was clear again and while his leg still throbbed some, it was no longer spiking with pain.

"Your fever broke last night," Sam told him, then took a shaky breath. "Jesus, Dean. I was so fucking scared you weren’t gonna wake up, that I couldn’t get the poison out of you…"

Dean squeezed his brother’s hand. "You did good. I’m okay, Sam."

"Are you?" Sam questioned. "Can you tell me why you woke up screaming? Was it another nightmare?"

Dean’s jaw clenched and he averted his eyes, let the silence stretch out for several heartbeats. "I saw the Yellow-Eyed Demon, Sam," he finally answered.

"You what? You mean, like a vision?

"No. Not exactly. He told me that because of the poison from that thing making me weak he was able to get in my head."

"Well, what – what did he say?"

"Sam, those creatures – they’re his fucking pets. Hellhounds that he’s bred to do one specific thing..."

"Hunt down and kill those kids," Sam finished.

Dean nodded his head. "You were right, Sam. Those kids are going to grow up to be hunters and he wants them dead before they can be. Bastard confirmed it."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Sam swore. "So what did he want? To threaten us? Tell us to back off? He doesn’t know us very well, does he?" Sam stated. "Did he say anything else?"

Dean’s chest tightened at the last question and he tried to swallow around the sudden dryness in his throat.

Dean knew that demons lied. But he also knew that they told the truth when they knew it would fuck with your head even worse. And Dean knew deep down that the Yellow-Eyed Demon was telling the truth.

He thought what he had done was what was best for Sam, back in Kingsburg, but all he’d done was make his brother an even bigger, more tempting target for the Yellow-Eyed Demon. How could he possibly tell Sam that?

Sam already felt guilty for Dean taking his visions away. But to now find out it had opened the door for Sam to develop what may be more sinister powers, making him even more attractive to the Yellow-Eyed Demon?

It would crush Sam. And it was all Dean’s fault.

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. He’d had one job since he was four years old – take care of his brother. Protect him. Keep him safe.

And he had failed.

"Dean? Did he say anything else?"

"No," Dean lied, voice hollow, rolling away from his brother and closing his eyes. "Nothing else."

THE END

~~~~~