"Ah-D-DEAN!" Sam's voice rang deafening in the small room, the motel their father had left them in for the night Waking a 13 year old Dean who immediately reached for his hunting knife the blade his hand "Sam! What is it? What's going on?!" Dean demanded from his bed across the musty brown room "I-" Sam uncurled himself smoothing the sheet on his lap the crack of a street light shone through where the blinds were not wide enough to cover the windows in a line down Sam's face "I had a bad dream"