Chapter 5 - Dream a Little Dream for Me

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Dream a Little Dream for Me

Chapter 5

“We have to go back, Dean!” Sam said. He was riding shotgun in the black clad car.
“We can’t. It’s too dangerous!” Dean argued, his eyes fixed firmly on the road.
I was dreaming. This was another one of those freaky dreams. It was too real, too detailed, to be a normal dream.
“At least we need to send someone to check on her!”
“Sammy,” Dean sighed, hunching his shoulders. “She’s not our concern.”
“She kind of is.”
“Her family will see her on the news or something. They’ll pick her up.”
“She doesn’t have any family!” Sam shouted. “They died in the fire that WE couldn’t prevent!”
I felt a surge of anger. It was their fault! It must have been theirs! They came, the house burned! My family died because of them!
I watched as the dream shook along with my anger. I heard an ear splitting high-pitched squealing and saw Sam clutch at his ears. Dean looked at him and reached out a just as the windows cracked. The highline fissure spread into a spider web of cracks before the windows fell in on themselves.
Dean slammed hard on the brakes, pulling onto the side of the road.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” He shouted, brushing off shards of glass. He looked at his partner who was still clutching his ears, leaning into his knees, testing the limit of the seatbelt. Blood dripped from his face onto his jeans.
“Sam?” Dean asked, shaking his shoulder. “Sammy!”
“Argh.” Sam mumbled. He reached out for the door handle and threw it open, sending glass tumbling to the ground.
Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his own door, racing around to the other side of the car. Sam reached for his seatbelt and tumbled to the ground, panting. He lifted his head slightly, but before he could look at Dean, he threw up.
Dean knelt next to him and swept Sam’s long hair out of his face. He looked over Sam’s head and rubbed his back, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable, no matter how practised he seemed at this.
Sam’s back arched and he tumbled the rest of the way out the car. Before he landed in the glass and his own vomit, Dean grabbed him and pulled him into his lap.
Sam tried to say something, but he threw up again instead. Dean winced and looked away, still holding his hair and rubbing his back.
“Sorry.” Sam said, vomit on his mouth and a trickle of blood running from his nose.
“It’s alright.” Dean told him in a soothing voice. “What else are big brothers for?”

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Pain.
Pain is the first thing I knew.
Where was I? Why was I in so much pain? What happened?
I could feel my heart beginning to race.
Mr Hewitt, Mr Wyatt. That was the last thing I remembered. They were fixing our house.
No, no. Time has passed.
Grace. Gracie’s six month birthday.
God, the pain!
I opened my eyes, but the blurry white light confused me even more.
My heart was physically hurting from beating so hard.
I could feel myself thrashing around on the bed I was lying in, my neck involuntarily whipping from side to side.
“Are you in pain?” I heard someone ask me. It took all my effort to clench my jaw and nod my head.
“On a scale of one-to-ten, how much pain are you in?”
I held my breath, trying to make my body work.
“Nine!” I blurted, hoping the person would give me some relief.
“Hold on a moment and this should help. Do you know where you are?”
I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes. I couldn’t answer, but a high-pitched squeal somehow made its way from my lips.
“You’re at Saint Mary’s Hospital. You were brought here five days ago.”
I could feel my heart rate slowing as the pain killers kicked in, numbness spreading throughout my body.
I stopped thrashing and opened my eyes again. The lady was right. I was definitely in a hospital. Machines beeped around me and tubes were hanging off me. A nasal cannula sprayed fresh air through my nose.
“Do you remember what happened?”
A house fire. My family died. I hid in the back of two strange men’s car and I killed someone.
“No.” I lied, the drugs the lady had given me made me sleepy. I let my eyes drift closed.
The bliss didn’t last long.
The nurse woke me apologetically and took me through a series of remote controls. There were bed controls, TV controls, and, my favourite, a green button to control my painkillers. The nurse placed the control in my hand and pushed the green button for me. She said to call if I needed anything, and she walked out. The pain killers flooded my body and I fell asleep again.

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