Turn Back The Clock

Not Again

Dean looked up at Sam in utter confusion and shock. What the hell was going on, was this some kind of dream born of guilt and sorrow?

"Get up Dean, we have a hunt to start." Dean shook his head, it ached horribly, it felt like a hangover. What the hell? 'Didn't we already do this?'

The shock of seeing his brother alive was written all over Dean's face. Sam looked down at Dean and perked a brow. "Something wrong Dean?"

"Sam...I can't believe you're alive." Dean's voice was shaky, he was terrified that this was a dream and he would wake up in the cold reality of Sam being gone.

"Uh yeah Dean, you must have had way too many beers last night, the hangover is affecting what's left of your mind." Sam grinned. "But don't think that means you get to go back to sleep, go get a shower and meet me outside."

Dean normally would have had a smartass comeback, but he was in too much shock to say anything. Had Sam dying really been a dream, if so, then why was everything happening exactly like it had in his so called dream?

Dean slowly laid back down on the bed and buried his head deep in the soft pillow, his ached too badly to do anything other then go back to sleep.

He closed his eyes and fell back asleep, he heard the door slam and heard Sam's voice. "Dean get up!"

Dean lifted his head inches from the pillow and glared at Sam. "I have the worst headache ever and I am trying to get rid of it, go away."

Sam sighed, Dean put his head back in the pillow, after the nightmare he had, he didn't need to deal with anything right now.

He felt the bed underneath him lift into the air and once again, Dean was dumped onto the floor. "Dean you seriously need to get a life, now come on. I have some leads and I want to eat before checking out the house."

The hairs on Dean's neck rose, he knew he had done this day before, it hadn't been a dream. Was he caught in some kind of time loop?

Hope rose in his heart, maybe he could keep Sam from dying this time. Now that Dean thought about it, there was no maybe about it. He would keep Sam from getting shot, he would change that day.

He groaned as he got up off the floor and walked into the shower. "Don't you even think about touching the water Sammy."

Sam scratched his head. Funny, that's exactly what he had been planning on doing.


"Dean come on, I'm hungry." Sam whined as Dean drove past the diner.

"Let's check out the house first, you can eat later you big baby." Dean was doing everything in his power to keep from what happened from happening again. Even if that meant he had to hear Sam's whining, at least he would be alive.

They arrived at the at the manor, it was deserted. It had large white pillars at the entrance and beautiful oak front doors. The house was really gorgeous. In the front yard was a weeping willow, dead flowers were all around the house.

Sam got out of the car first and looked at his laptop. "Alright, so the first death was a worker named Neal O'Ryan, he fell from top beam while hammering, police marked it off as an accident, said the wind knocked him off. Problem with that theory is, the people who had been there said there was no wind at all."

Dean nodded his head. "Three more died in that same year right?"

"Yup, all male, all killed by falling to their deaths." Sam noticed that Dean kept looking at him and was beginning to find it weird. "Dean, what is wrong?"

Dean averted his gaze. "Nothing, just a really bad nightmare." There was no way he was going to tell his brother that he had watched him die and that it would have happened again if Dean hadn't changed it.

"Anything you wanna talk about?" Dean looked at Sam, his eyes telling Sam loud and clear. Hell no.

"Right then, so I did a background check on the land before the manor was built, turns out that it was where an old jail used to sit."

Dean shook his head. "Why the hell do they always build nice houses on bad land, so what, do we torch the house or what?"

"Actually, cleansing the house might work, it is most likely some pissed off spirit of some murderer or something."

"With a special way of killing his victims it seems, alright, let's cleanse the house so we can go eat."

Sam got out the holy water, cats eye shells, and salt and followed Dean into the house. Dean carried his shotgun full of rock salt and a knife made of pure iron, he wasn't taking any chances. The door was unlocked, which meant Dean didn't get the fun of picking the lock. The house held a certain eerie sense when they walked in.

Dean began pouring the water in all directions as Sam read the exorcism rites. Suddenly the entire house began to shake, the spirit was even more pissed off now. "Something doesn't want us here."

Ignoring the chaos around them, the boys continued the ritual, Dean dodged a bookcase and Sam dodged a lamp. "Why can't they ever just give in immediately?"

It got worse as they went up the stairs to the second floor, they went room to room, feeling the spirit get weaker as they went on, but even as it got weaker, it got more desperate.

In the last room of the house, the master bedroom, it hit the two with everything it could. Sam was near the window, he was almost finished with the exorcism. Dean finished with the holy water and turned in time to see a spirit appear in front of Sam. "No!"

Sam looked up in terror as the spirit gave him a hard shove. Dean shot the thing, but it was too late, Dean watched as Sam fell through the glass and out the window.


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