likely_evil | 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 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.

There's a Demon in your bed...

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