Requests and Challenges - White Balloons: Chapter Four
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Title: White Balloons
Author: girlgotagun
Pairing: Dean/Sam (Unrelated)
Chapter Four: Dreamwalker
. hold on .
In his dream, Dean was in an open field. He turned, seeing only tall grass for miles, stretching out in every direction until the waving tips of the blades touched the horizon, as though he had been dropped on a planet made up entirely of the thick, sweet-smelling vegetation. He listened for any sign of movement and was met only with the soft whisper of the wind in the grass and the song of a bird in the distance, though he could see no place for it to perch.
As he watched, the sun rose high overhead, arching across the sky and then beginning its descent in the west, as though the day had been put on fast-forward. The sky darkened, painted orange then blood-red and then finally purple before the moon rose high and the field was illuminated only by its light.
He heard the rush of movement through grass and began to turn towards the sound, but before he could place it he was being knocked over as bruising impact crushed into his chest and stomach. He hit the ground, groaning at the heavy weight that settled onto his chest. His eyes searched the darkness, desperately trying to adjust to make out the details of the figure that was perched on top of him, pinning him down with its thighs on either side of his ribs.
“Hey Dean.” The voice was familiar, a low snarl that was somehow menacing and gleeful all at once.
“Sam,” Dean choked out when he realized. He threw his head back as he felt the sharp edge of a blade against his throat, trying to keep a space of air between his flesh and the deadly weapon. “What the hell are you doing?”
Sam chuckled. “What do you think I’m doing, Dean? What would anyone do after you kill their family, crash the most important night of their life, steal the greatest honor that’s ever been bestowed upon them, and then forcibly bind them to you?”
Dean tried to control his scent, tried to push forth the thick wave of pheromones that would get the omega to back down. But nothing happened.
“Poor Dean. Can’t use your little Alpha tricks in a dream. Didn’t you know?” The gleam of Sam’s satisfied grin was visible in the darkness as he leaned forward. “You know what they say, right? If you die in your dreams, you die in real life? Wonder if that’s true… Think you can wake up fast enough, Dean?”
Dean gasped, his mind racing and fighting for a foothold. He squeezed his eyes shut; told himself that when he opened them he’d be awake again.
He wrenched his eyes open.
He was in the Roadhouse, once more on his feet. He turned in a slow circle. Impossible-the Roadhouse had been burned to the ground the year before.
His eyes fell on a shape behind the bar, and he crept closer to try to figure out what it was, only to recoil when the full shape came into view. It was Ellen’s foot. She, Jo, and Ash were laying in a heap behind the bar, blood pooling around their bodies, eyes wide and unblinking, accusing as they stared lifelessly at Dean.
There was a mirthless laugh and Dean spun around to find Sam leaning against the bar, peering over the edge at the hunters. “See, I’m a little peeved that you got away. But I did wonder about this.”
“You don’t know anything about this.” Rage was coursing through Dean, bringing his blood to a boil. “You don’t know a goddamned thing about them; about this place or what happened.”
“That’s not what I wondered. They don’t really matter.” The omega shrugged, ignoring the low growl that came from his throat. “No, see, I wondered about this ‘good Alpha’ act of yours. This supposed determination you have to protect your loved ones. You swear by it, don’t you Dean? But at the end of the day you’re all talk.”
The omega flickered and vanished as Dean rushed forward, ready to kill him to shut him up, unable to stop the rage and grief that his words were bringing to the surface.
Sam’s voice was behind him now as the omega used his larger body to pin Dean to the bar, whispering in his ear. “You can’t protect anyone, Dean. Everyone close to you dies. All you did with your little act of heroism that night was make sure that you’ll watch your own pup die. You should’ve listened to Bobby. Should’ve cut out my womb when you had the chance. ‘Cause now I’ve got your pup; and I’m going to wreck your world before it even breathes its first breath. And you love it too much, already, don’t you? Can’t actually hurt me, right?”
Dean closed his eyes, trying to master the pain ripping through his very soul at the omega’s words.
“Gonna keep me in a scent fog, Dean? Think you can control me?” The omega laughed. “I’m a witch. I’m more powerful than you could ever imagine. And before this is over, I will see you lose everything that you hold dear. Just like you took everything from me.”
Dean let out a roar, whirling around, his hackles raised, mouth flooding with saliva, ready to rip the other man limb-from-limb.
He was alone.
”Dean?”
He looked around, trying to find the source of the soft voice.
”Dean, are you okay?”
The Roadhouse was starting to blur, to distort around him.
”Dean!”
His eyes snapped open to meet Sam’s and in a split second he was flipping them, his hand closing around the omega’s throat as he let out a loud growl, finally feeling his scent respond to his instincts, flooding the room with the threat-the promise-of violence, of pain.
Sam’s eyes were wide and panicked as he clawed at Dean’s arm, tried to pry the Alpha’s hand loose.
“You bitch.” Dean ground out the words through his clenched teeth, body shaking in rage. “How fucking dare you?” He pushed harder, heard the omega start to sputter, saw tears forming in the other man’s eyes.
“Dean…stop…please…” Sam wheezed out. “What…why are you…” His words choked off as he struggled for air.
The fear in the omega’s scent was starting to pull at his hindbrain, starting to kick up another frenzy alongside the rage coursing through him. The conflicting instincts sparked doubt.
“What were you doing in my dreams? What the hell kind of witchcraft was that?” He saw the omega flinch as flecks of spit landed on his face. He eased up on the pressure on his throat just enough to allow the man to answer.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dean roared in outrage. “Don’t lie to me!”
The omega whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I can’t do that! Don’t know how to do that! I was just sleeping and you started tossing and turning and it seemed like you should wake up because you were panicked, so I tried to wake you! That’s all, I swear; I wasn’t doing anything!” He swallowed hard as Dean’s eyes searched his, trying to decide if Sam was lying or not. “Please…please don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me, Dean. You’re my Alpha. You said you were a good one, right? That you’re not going to hurt me, or let anything hurt me? Please…Dean, you’re hurting me.”
The words were soft, pleading, pathetic-and seemed horribly sincere. Dean’s stomach sank, guilt washing through him. He tore his hand away from Sam’s throat and rolled off of him, flopping onto his back and rubbing his hands over his face as he tried to calm down.
It had seemed so real… So different from any other dream he had ever had. Could it have really only been a dream?
“God, I’m sorry, Sam.” His voice was muffled behind his hands, but he knew that the omega could still hear it. “That was an awful dream and I thought you…”
“I know, Dean.” Sam sighed, his tone resigned as he turned away from the Alpha. “Still not the worst thing that’s happened to me lately. Go back to sleep.”
. hold on .
The coven that Sam had belonged to had been a powerful one, each of them hand-selected by their master, the demon they served, and raised into their skills from infancy. Sam was a dreamwalker.
It had started out as premonitions; flashes of the future that made his head throb like it was about to split open. That had been followed by a small flair for telekinesis. He had blended the two, learned to manipulate his own dreams and then bleed the results into reality. Then, he had begun to learn old dream witchcraft; everything from cursing someone’s dreams to actually entering them himself and taking control of the realm. And Sam was good at it; unequaled by the rest of his coven. It was what ultimately made the demon pick him; what showed the demon that he was the most worthy to carry his son.
Dean had been an unexpected challenge; the Alpha had a firmer grasp on the way his dreams worked than most, whether it was conscious knowledge or not. But even if Sam hadn’t managed to kill him, he had confirmed a few very important things about the Alpha.
He let his hand rest over his abdomen, a smile spreading across his face. He could wait. He had around nine months to draw out his revenge, after all.
Continue to Chapter Five