blualbino | An Unexpected Consequence pt 2

Sam let Dean search through the obituaries for once, since he was creeped out by all the pictures, could’ve sworn one was winking at him.

“What about this one,” Dean said. “Abigail Dorton, 27, died in a suspected mugging, but wasn’t missing her wallet or purse, no witnesses.” Dean looked over to Sam, who was on his third cup of coffee.

“Why does that name sound familiar?” Sam asked. Dean shrugged, he’d never heard of her. Sam took the newspaper from him, and looked at the picture of Abigail Dorton.

She looked familiar, blonde, pretty…Sam’s dream rushed back to him so fast he nearly got whiplash. If he dreamed of Abbie Dorton getting killed, days before it happened…

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“I had another vision. Of her dying.”

___

Apparently Sam having visions again was weird enough to warrant a call to Bobby, who obviously didn’t like what he was hearing.

“Yes I’m sure it was a real vision… Lilith killed some chick, we saw the obituary… I am not going to call that dick!” Bobby must’ve mentioned Castiel, bad move. There was some more arguing, and a few choice words, then Dean hung up.

“He has no idea why you’re seeing dead people again.” Dean announced.

“I think we should talk to Castiel.” Sam said. Dean glared at him. “What? If Bobby doesn’t know, then maybe Cas has some angelic tip-line or something.”

“No.” Dean said, end of discussion.

___

Sam and Dean sat on their beds, Sam zoned out and staring at the TV, and Dean living up to the unspoken agreement that he would stay up with his brother. Sam was nodding off, blinking too much.

“Sam.” Dean said, seeing it out of the corner of his eye. Sam’s head jerked up, and he took another gulp of coffee.

“You can go to sleep, Dean.” Sam said.

“No chance.”

“Dean…”

“Then who’d make sure you stay awake?” Dean asked, glaring at him. Sam sipped more coffee, unable to come up with a response. Instead, the next time Dean’s coffee cup ran out, Sam refilled it for him, with decaf.

Dean nodded off half an hour later, and Sam let him sleep. One of them should.

He flipped through the TV channels, trying to find something interesting enough to hold his attention. Nothing. Sam felt the urge to put the remote, or his fist, through the TV screen. Sam glanced over at Dean, curled up in his sleep, and he felt angry as hell. Practically homicidal. Why would he be able to sleep when Sam couldn’t, what the hell did he do that made him so special?

Realizing what he was thinking, and more importantly, who he was thinking about, Sam turned his attention back to the TV. It played an old episode of “The Twilight Zone”.

Sam chuckled a bit at the premise of aliens, but watched anyway.

Just as he was getting into the show, the stupid TV fizzled out into static. Sam angrily pressed some buttons on the remote, then chucked it at the wall when it didn’t work.

“Damn TV.” Sam muttered. The TV shook on it’s stand, sending up sparks. “What the hell?” It kept shaking violently, making one of the worst grinding-clicking noises Sam ever heard. Dean stayed asleep. The sparks were followed by light grey smoke, that thickened into thick black smog--the damn TV was possessed.

The demonic fog curled out of the TV, leaving the appliance a burned out shell. It headed straight towards Sam--it was gonna crawl down his throat and taste like sulfur and burnt meat and blood--then it turned. The smoke swerved in mid-air, heading for sleeping Dean.

“NO!” Sam yelled, lunging for it. He missed and landed on Dean’s bed. The smoke lunged into Dean’s mouth and down his throat sickeningly fast--a black snake made of smoke. Dean didn’t so much as twitch in his sleep.

“Wake up!” Sam yelled, grabbing Dean’s shoulders.

“Wha- Sammy?” The thing-that-looked-like-Dean said.

“GET OUT OF HIM!” Sam screamed, shaking the demon.

“SAM IT’S ME!”

“NO! GET OUT OF MY BROTHER!” Sam shouted.

“CRISTO!” Dean yelled. Sam let go of him--it had to be Dean demons can’t say the name of the lord--but he saw it he saw it go into him--

“Sam, it’s me. Calm down.” Dean--and it was definitely Dean--said. Sam let go of him, and sat down on the floor.

“I thought you were possessed.” Sam said.

“I know.” Dean sat down next to him.

“I saw it.” Sam stared at Dean, “ I saw it come out of the TV and into you.” Dean decided not to make a snaky comment about a demon possessing their TV.

“You must’ve fallen asleep and dreamed it.”

“No, Dean, I was awake. I was awake today and I was awake when I saw the clown, I’ve been awake this whole time, but I keep having nightmares.” Sam pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them.

“Clown? Sam, there wasn’t a demon, and I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a clown.” Dean tried to calm him.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sam said, with all the monotone and finality of a doomsday prophet. “I see them anyway.”

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