#20 End of this world.

Dean, Sam and John lay in wait outside the home of the young couple. Everything was silent except for the relaxed breathing of the three men ; But they were far from relaxed.

Sam tapped the steering wheel continually, he refused to let Dean drive anywhere after his brush with suicide. 

John kept looking through notes that he had glanced over at least twenty odd times that night and Dean resorted to his very own act of comfort; his rhythm.

Thump Thumpthump Thump

Nine pm turned to ten pm. All the lights in the house were out by eleven. Stillness.

By two am Dean had fallen asleep. He stirred as demons and monsters plagued him.

Something shook him violently. His name was called and he woke to find himself staring into the face of his brother. His father was just slamming the door of the car.

"Dean! Come on!" Sam screamed.

Sam climbed out of the car and slid a pistol into the back of his boxers. Dean hastily followed his lead. He was prepared for the fight ahead.

The Winchesters ran up the hall and fell through the nursery door, after telling the distressed husband to leave. The dark shadow, that could only be the demon, stood over the babies cradle. Its mother was screaming from the roof, begging the three men to help her. Sam fired the gun and the demon disintegrated, John rushed forward and caught the young mother.

"Amy!" She cried.

"She's okay, we're here to help!" John cooed.

She rushed to her feet, stumping slightly as she regained balance. She scooped her child in her arms.

"Sam, take them outside! We'll follow." Dean ordered as he circled the room.

Sam nodded and escorted the young woman out of the room; he could only assume that her husband was else where.

They didn't know how it happened but by the time Sam was out, the house was in flames. John and Dean still up stairs on the landing.

"Dad! Dean!" Sam screamed outside.

He swallowed against the urge to curse loudly. Should he go back in? 

They could get out, they had to. They where his family.

The house was burning fast, with still no sign of Dean or his father. Smoke was rising dramatically into the air, fast, turning in a spiral of pain and hate, the sky was a sickening shade of black. Sam wanted to cry but he knew he couldn't.

He had to stay strong and keep believing that his brother and dad would get out.

If not for himself, then for them.