Chapter 1 - Speak To Me and Breathe In The Air

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        The screaming cry of her six month old baby boy, Sam, was the first thing she heard that startled her that night. It was the middle of the night, therefore his wakening wasn't wholly unexpected.

        Sitting up in bed, she groggily tousled her hair and turned to see the space next to her empty. John must be downstairs, she thinks, rolling her eyes and pushing the soft, warm covers off her slim body. She slowly eases her feet onto the lush carpet beneath her as Sam continues to cry, though the sound is strangely muffled through the baby monitor propped up against the lamp on the nightstand.

        Padding out into the hallway and immediately to the baby's room, she is surprised by John's silhouetted figure leaning lovingly over the crib.

        "John is he-" she started out but received an abrupt hush signal from John, so she went silent. Shrugging her shoulders she headed back to bed.

        On the contrary, John was downstairs, carefully steadying an almost empty ice cream carton on top of a pack of frozen peas in the freezer. Closing the door, he stood back and stretched his arms high above his head while yawning. He ran a hand through his hair and decided to check on the boys one more time before heading back to bed.

        He sluggishly made his way up the stairs, heading first to his older son's room. Opening the door, he finds Dean curled up under his race car quilt, snoring softly. Grinning warm-heartily, he gently closes the door and heads to Sam's room. A sliver of light stretches from the boy's door as if a light were left on.

        Easing the door open he softly called out, "Mary?" with no obvious answer because it was not Mary whom he was calling out to. A man with John's stance swung around, his eyes glowing a sickly yellow in the bright moonlight which screamed through open blinds. A gross smile stretches across his face before he nodded his head causing John to fly back against one of the bedroom walls with a heavy oomph.

        Panting now to break free, John squints his eyes through the dark that had suddenly overcame him and the man. The yellow eyes gleamed even brighter then, slowly getting bigger as the man neared him.

        Suddenly John was sliding up the wall, his hands tried to grab for something to save him but they provided nothing. His head was to the ceiling now, his shoulders roughly grazing over the wall hedges. Soon he was parallel to the floor, his face red not only from helplessness but also his position. Looking down he finds himself hanging directly over Sammy's crib.

        "Sammy..." he cried, barely able to get the word out. It was as if the man had covered his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Sam smiled a one-toothed grin at him, throwing in a cute baby giggle.

        Something suddenly had lifted from his mouth or at least let him speak now. He screamed for his life, and in seconds a sharp invisible pain flared in his abdomen and he strained to look down only to find a large stab wound forming in his stomach. Blood began seeping from him and soaking his shirt. Once his shirt had had enough, it started dripping right over Sam's head.

        Mary then burst in through the door and the invisible hand on his hand returned. He could feel himself slipping away. His wife, so beautiful she is, her hair glistening in the moonlight (which had been returned as soon as she had come into the room), swiftly made her way to Sam's crib, a warm smile spreading her lips. The man was now nowhere to be seen, yet John still knew he was lingering close by. Mary smirked down as Sam, rubbing his soft cheek with her thumb and cooing to him.

        A fat drop of blood sailed down from John's abdomen and onto Sam's forehead. A few drops a moment later and Mary looked up to see her husband nearly dead on the ceiling. The man, just outside of the room, noisily snapped his fingers and John's invisible speech preventor disappeared a second before he went up in flames. Mary was screaming his name. The fire moved about the room like waves in a sea.

        Dean came running to see about the commotion, crying for his mother. She scrambles to get the now screaming and crying baby Sam, then grabs Dean's hand, tugging him along with them. He begged to know what was happening and where his Daddy was, but all she could do was cry and urge him to keep up with her.

        Outside of the house now, they sit on the end of an ambulance that had recently arrived (thanks to a neighbor calling 911). Mary's eyes are red from crying and tears still stain her cheeks. Dean sits under her arm, slowly sucking on his thumb, a thing he hadn't done since he was two while little Sammy rests in the crook of her other arm, fast asleep.

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Ok, so not great, but I'm trying- I really am! Well maybe not...ugh! I don't know! I hope you enjoyed it anyways. If you have any suggestions then go ahead and lemmi know. :) I love y'all!!! <3 :3 ( Don't worry I'll be going back and editing these chapters here and there so don't expect this to stay as messy as it is :P )

~Carrie

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