Supernatural//[ON HOLD]

Supernatural//18

Eighteen.

When I was unconscious, I dreamt. The dreams would vary but they would each be of the same person: Cameron. Each one would be more vivid than the next, more alarming and shocking but they call centered around one specific person. Sometimes, the dreams would be glimpses of Cameron, or Cameron and Ryan, or Cameron and Lila. They would always change.

The one dream I could recall with crystal clarity was the one I had two days ago. Was it really days? I wasn't sure, time was unbeknownst to me in the realm between dreams and reality. It could be weeks, or maybe months, for all I knew.

The dream begun like all the others: blurry and unclear and disorienting. It didn't make sense at first but as the dream progressed, I was stunned to realized that I was dreaming about Lila's death. I was stunned and shell-shocked. Why my mind had conjured up the event, I had no idea. It couldn't be real. It must be a a figment of my imagination, wasn't it?

...

I stood in front of the boundary line, the tip of my flip-flop touched the invisible barrier. The clearing was empty, lacking human life. Confused as to why I had suddenly materialized here, I walked around, eyes bouncing from branch to branch. The place was ringed with trees, younger and sturdier than the ones I had seen. There were less flowers and weeds present but I could see green sprouts daring to burst free from their dirt confinement.

Footsteps sounded and I froze, hands outstretched. On the other side of the boundary, Cameron's army approached. His professional and disciplined fighters stood behind him. Cameron, as always, was planted in the front, face stoic and emotionless. But pain and betrayal simmered beneath his thinly veiled emotions. I realized with a start that this was the fight. The fight where Lila was killed and Cameron turned rogue. Knowing that, my eager to gain knowledge dimmed considerably.

They didn't seem to see me. Although, Cameron's hardened gaze did seem to linger around the area where I stood before they roamed past me. It seemed like I was merely an observer, a witness rather than a participant. I inspected Cameron silently; they couldn't see me but that didn't mean they couldn't hear me and at the moment, I didn't want to risk it. I needed to know why I had dreamt this, why this dream had even appealed to me in the first place; it wasn't my memory.

Cameron was younger and without a doubt, stronger and more rugged. His entire contour screamed power yet his eyes, the eyes so similar to Ryan, were filled with pain and rage. His hair, dirty blond, was longer and his form was more wiry and lean. He was unkempt and in disarray.

My head whipped to the side when a symphony of footfalls blared. My breathing hitched and sputtered when I caught a glimpse of Ryan leading his own army. His army was considerably smaller than Cameron's but then again, I didn't really think Ryan had really wanted to hurt his brother. As he came closer, I knew I was right.

Ryan's steps and movements were reluctant and sluggish; he moved at a snail's pace whereas his brother's steps had been quick and eager, like a panther's. When the two brothers faced each other, I saw weariness and regret etched plainly across Ryan's face. Cameron growled and bared his teeth, clearly oblivious to his brother's grief and penitence.

I knew what came next: they fight.

I was convinced that I was invisible when one of Ryan's fighter passed through me. I blinked and whirled around; I felt a bit violated and wronged. But the man walked on. I crossed my arms and moved out of the way. I stood to the side, eyes wide with horror, as Cameron shifted and lunged at Ryan. Ryan in turn shifted and met his brother's attack. The two wolves slammed to the ground, teeth snapping. In my incorporeal state, I couldn't have physically stopped the fight. But, maybe, they could hear me.