likely_evil | There's a Demon in your bed...

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There's a Demon in your bed...

It was the middle of the night when Sam sat up in the Impala, waking from another bad dream. It was full of fire and pain and even the comfort of the back seat wasn't protecting him from those dreams tonight.

He hated those dreams. Especially because he didn't know what they were. They just hurt him and he didn't like being hurt.

He looked at the motel room where Alec and Dean were fast asleep in and pondered going in. He had not gone in before, even if they left the salt from the door enough that he could get in. They wanted him to come in.

Tonight he would. He did not want to close his eyes to see fire again. He wanted to look at something else.

He dissipated into his sulfur smoke cloud and left the open crack of the Impala's window, then made his way under the motel door. Both of them were fast asleep, so Sam carefully crept over to the dresser which was next to Dean's bed.

He could tell them apart. Dean looked different when Sam looked at him with black eyes.

Sam sat on the dresser and watched Dean sleep. He closed his eyes, trying to see if he could see what Dean was dreaming of, but he couldn't. Dean didn't look like he was dreaming of fire though.

He was sleeping. Sam wanted to sleep too. Maybe when Dean woke up, Sam would try and sleep on his bed. Maybe then he wouldn't dream of the fire again.

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Dean Winchester could sleep through almost anything. Hurricane, earthquake, house fire -- you name it, he could probably do it. The one thing he really couldn't stand, however, was when someone was watching him sleep.

It was kind of creepy.

He was onto the fact that Sam was watching him from the minute he sat down in the room, but he was trying to ignore it, hoping he would get bored of it after a while and wander off to do something else. Apparently not tonight. After a while, he gave up, pushing himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes.

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

"Fire."

Sam just watched Dean. Dean. Dean was safe and he could protect him from the fire like the Impala tried to do.

It took him a minute to connect the dots as to what exactly Sam meant by that, but soon enough he realized what was going on. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

"You're having nightmares?"

Sam nodded, his hand coming up to hold his head. "Close my eyes and it's there. Can't hide. Always there."

Dean didn't even know where to start. Bobby might have something for this, when they finally got around to his neck of the woods again, but there weren't very many options to be had at the moment, aside from good ol' fashioned comfort, and Dean wasn't sure exactly what that was going to do.

It was like having the six year-old Sam waking up from nightmares all over again. Except he was now three times the size that he was back then, but at least Dean had a good idea as to where to start. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting up against the headboard before gesturing for his brother to come closer.

"C'mere, Sam."

Sam hesitated a moment, looking at Dean carefully. Then he slowly slid off the dresser and walked over, standing beside the bed. He didn't speak, and wasn't sure really what Dean was thinking.

"C'mon -- sit down at least."

He wasn't going to push Sam about what the nightmares were about, and he didn't want to wake up Alec either. So he just waited for Sam to get comfortable, and hoped that the big brother remedy was still working the same as it did before.

Sam sucked in his lower lip a moment, then nodded and sat down. But he didn't curl up into Dean, just sat stiffly and tried to figure out how to turn around so he could still watch Dean.

Dean watched him try for a minute, chuckling slightly as he watched him. "You know, Sammy -- you don't have to watch me all the time."

He shook his head. "I'll forget."

Just like he couldn't remember anything else. All he knew was a name. Dean. If he left Dean for too long, Sam knew he would forget again. He didn't remember anything else. But he needed to remember Dean.

"No you won't," Dean said, shaking his head. "And if you do I'll remind you."

Sam shook his head violently. "No, I can't remember. I look inside. Fire. Pain. Nothing else."

Dean's face dropped the comforting brother look for a moment, before looking down again and closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I wish there was something I could do."

Sam looked at Dean, then carefully reached out and touched Dean's face. A memory came from out of dean's mind... or maybe it was from somewhere locked inside Sam's own... and he projected it to Dean to watch with him.

They were kids and Dean had left Sam alone to get something to eat for dinner while Dad was on a hunt. He was drawing designs in the salt with his finger while looking out the window. He hated it when he couldn't see Dean. It was scary sitting in the dark with only the tv on. But Dean said that the lights had to stay out.

Then there was a face in the window, appearing out of nowhere, glaring at him. Sam screamed and fell back on the ground. Almost instantly there was the sound of a rifle and rock salt pelted against the window. Dean ran into the room, checking the salt lines before kneeling down and grabbing Sam.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean asked, looking Sam over.

"There was a face in the window."

"It's gone now. You're safe."

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him tightly until he wasn't afraid any longer.

Sam jerked his hand away and looked at Dean, confused.

Dean was just as confused, wondering from which region of his mind Sam had managed to pull that one, before but then frowning slightly as Sam pulled away.

"What is it?"

"I think... I think I can get them back. From you."

There was a memory now in Sam's mind. One he could play over and over again and it didn't leave his mind after he saw it like anything else that came back. He closed his eyes and smiled, hugging onto that memory tightly to keep it from going anywhere.

The one thing that defined him as being Sam, and it was this bit of Dean protecting him.

"Really?" Dean frowned, still incredibly confused, but a bit relieved that Sam seemed to be relaxing a bit. He was still worried, but at least not as much. "Through me?"

The memories had also brought something else out. Though the memory, a bit more comprehension had come into Sam in being able to communicate.

"Yeah. You remember things. Things I can't. I think... you can show them to me. Help me remember who I was."

"Right."

This wasn't weird at all. But then again, nothing had not been weird, ever since Sam had shown up again.

"So I'm basically like a walking, talking TV."

Sam thought for a moment. "No playboy channel." It was a real touch of the old Sam, and Sam smiled proudly that he was able to make a joke and understand it again.

Dean laughed, the grin stretching across his face at the look on his brother's. "Well good -- we don't need you seeing all that yet."

"Don't want to." The grin was there a moment longer, then faltered back to his calm nothingness.

Then he yawned, his eyes blinking as he was tired from the exertion.

Dean dropped the smile after a moment. "You should get some sleep, Sammy."

"Can I... stay here?"

"Of course you can," he said with a nod.

Sam gave a hesitant smile, then shifted a bit to lean against Dean. Almost instantly Sam's body molded around Dean, snuggling into him like the puppy that Sam had always been teased of being like when he was alive.

Dean chuckled slightly, before settling back in, sliding his arm around her brother and shifting to get comfortable.

Home was the only word projected in a content voice that sounded exactly like Sam did as a kid as the demon in Dean's arm slipped off to sleep.

Dean leaned back against the headboard of the bed and closed his eyes, feeling his body start to relax again and drifting off to sleep.

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There's a Demon in your bed...

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