Home
It was late at night when I woke from another horrible nightmare. I couldn't go back to sleep and I didn't feel safe in the dark all alone in my own motel room. I lie there for about an hour, tossing and turning before deciding that I couldn't just sit here anymore.
So I throw the blankets off of my, slipping out of bed. I move toward the door, stepping out into the cold. I wrap my arms around myself, walking two doors down where I knew I'd feel better. I reach the door. I knew it was going to be locked.
I pull a bobby-pin from the pocket of my shorts to pick the lock. Once the door swung open, I quietly step inside. I shut it behind me before moving across the room. I walk by Sam's bed where he slept.
I stop once reaching Dean's. This was a really bad idea. But I don't want to be alone. I stare down at Dean's bare back, watching it rise and fall with each breath. I stand there for a moment, debating whether I should just go back to my room.
I lift the blanket up, sliding into bed beside Dean. This was a bad idea, a really, really bad idea. I relax into the mattress, suddenly very aware of how little clothing I had on, of how little clothing he wore.
I tug at the hem of my low-cut tank top, wishing I had picked something with a little more fabric. I definitely should've picked something with more fabric than these shorts as well.
I roll onto my side, watching Dean as he lay on his stomach. I fought the urge to reach out and run my fingers over all the muscles in his back, his arms.
God, this was such a bad idea.
I wanted to touch him. To feel his skin beneath my fingers.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
The sound of a gasp made me look over. Sam had shot awake, now sitting up.
"You okay, Sammy?" I asked.
Sam jumped, and I realized that I wasn't here when he went to sleep.
"Sorry." I say sheepishly.
"I'm...I'm alright." Sam nodded, but I wasn't convinced.
I return to my spot, closing my eyes as I felt Dean's arm brush against my stomach.
___
"I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig." Dean says as he and I sit at the table by the window while Sam sat on the bed, drawing something on the motel notepad. "A fishing trawler off the cost of Cali. Its crew vanished."
"Unless they were just eaten by sharks." I state absentmindedly as I stare down at the photos I was printing.
"And we got some cattle mutilations in west Texas." Dean continued.
"Coyotes...or just a creepy person." I shrugged.
"Not everything has a rational explanation, Si." Dean tells me. He then turned to Sam. "Hey! Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"
"No, I'm listening." Sam turned back to whatever he was drawing. "Keep going."
Dean tapped his pen against the table. "And here in Sacramento a man shot himself in the head...three times." He held up three fingers.
"Okay, yeah, that's unusual." I nodded my head. "Oh, wait, not if it was a murder framed to look like a suicide."
Dean gave me a look. "Are you trying to annoy me today?"
"Yes, actually." I replied.
Dean shot me another look before waving his hand around only for Sam to not notice. "Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?"
I laughed a little as Sam ignored him.
"Wait, I've seen this." Sam muttered.
"Seen what?" Dean asked as Sam stood up, walking across the room. He dug through his bag, pulling out John's journal. "What are you doing?"
Sam dug through until he found a photo. "Dean, I know where we have to go next."
"A place where people actually tell other people what's going on?" I asked. "Because sure, sign me up."
"Where?" Dean asked as I propped my feet on his knee.
"Back home." Sam says. "Back to Kansas."
"Okay, Dorthy. You do that." I muttered.
Dean scoffed, something close to fear swirling in his eyes. Though he quickly hid it. Just like always. "Okay, random. Where's that come from?"
"Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam dropped a picture onto the table. It was taken before Mary had died. Sam was still a baby, Dean barely four. "The house where Mom died?"
"Yeah." Dean replied.
"It didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely." Sam stated. "They rebuilt it."
"I guess so, yeah. Why?" Dean asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Okay. This is gonna sound crazy, but the people who live in our old house. I think they might be in danger." Sam stated.
"Why would you think that?"
"I, um, I...Look, just, um, trust me on this, okay?" Sam walked back across the room.
"Okay, whoa, whoa. Trust you?" Dean stood, following his brother.
"Yeah."
"Come on, man. That's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that."
"I can't really explain it is all."
"Well, you could try." I mumbled.
"Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do." Dean demanded.
Sam sighed, turning away from the bag he was packing. "I have these nightmares."
"I've noticed."
"And sometimes they come true."
Dean just stared at his brother, a soft scoff falling past his lips. "Come again?"
"Your dreams come true?" I asked, very confused. "Is that, like, a metaphor or something?"
"Look, I dreamt about Jessica's death." Sam stated. "For days before it happened."
"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean shrugged, taking a seat on the bed.
"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything. And I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it, and now I'm dreaming about that tree. And our house and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, this is where it all started. It has to mean something, man." Sam rambled.
"I don't know." Dean gazed back down at the photo in hand.
"You don't--What do you mean you don't know?" Sam sat down opposite of him.
I sink into my seat, not wanting to be in the way. This was a private, family thing. I shouldn't be here.
"Dean, this woman might be in danger." Sam continued. "I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica."
Dean stood suddenly, turning his back to Sam. "Alright, just slow down, would you?" He moved back toward me, turning to face Sam. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the shining. And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home."
I reach out, taking Dean's hand in his. I give his fingers a squeeze.
"Especially when...." Dean trailed off, but I knew what he was going to say.
"When what?" Sam asked.
"When I swore to myself I'd never go back there."
"Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure."
Dean looked over at his brother. "I know we do."
___
"Yes, dad, I'm in town. Uh-huh. Yes, I coming to see you." I say as Dean turned the Impala off. We now sat across the street from the Winchester's old house. "I know, but we're working...No, I'm not doing anything I'm not supposed to....Dad, I'm 24. Yes, I love you too. Goodbye."
"You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked as I shoved my phone into my pocket.
"Let me get back to you on that." Dean glanced at his brother.
I lean against the front seat, setting my hand on his shoulder.
We get out of the car, walking across the street and toward the house. I slip my hand into Dean's, moving closer to his side. I wanted him to know he wasn't alone, that I was here.
Sam knocked on the door.
A blonde woman opened it. "Yes?"
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the federal--" Dean began.
"I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. That's our friend Saige," Sam cut him off. "Um, me and my brother, we used to live here. You know, we were just driving by and we were wondering if we could see the place."
"Winchester." The lady repeated. "It is so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."
"You did?" Dean asked.
The woman stepped out of the doorway, gesturing for us to come in.
We followed her through the home. I shift closer to Dean as he glanced around. I pull my hand from his and wrap an arm around his torso, lifting his arm and placing it over my shoulder.
We walk into the kitchen where a little girl sat at the table and a toddler was jumping up and down, repeating the word 'juice' over and over.
"That's Richie." Jenny tells us, grabbing a sippy cup and walking toward her son. "He's kind of a juice junkie, but, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." She walked back toward her daughter. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Saige. Those two used ot live here."
"Hi." Sari waved at us.
"Hey, Sari." Sam replied as Dean and I waved back.
"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked.
"Uh, yeah. From Wichita." Jenny replied.
"You got family in the area?" Dean asked.
"No. I just, uh...needed a fresh start. That's all. So new town. New job. I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."
"So how are you liking it so far?" Sam asked.
"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home. I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here, but this place has its issues."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just getting old. Like, the wiring, you know. We've got flickering lights almost hourly."
"Well, that's too bad." Dean chuckled a little. "What else?"
"Uh, sink's backed up. Rat's in the basement." Jenny listed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."
"No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"
"Just the scratching. Actually."
"Mom. Ask them if it was here when they lived here." Sari spoke up.
"What, Sari?" Sam asked.
"The thing in my closet."
"Oh, no, baby, there's nothing in the closets." Jenny looked over at us. "Right?"
"You know, monster really actually don't like closets. Uh, too cramped." I stutter out a response.
"There's nothing in the closet. No. Of course not." Sam added.
"She had a nightmare the other night." Jenny says.
"I wasn't dreaming." Sari stated. "It came into my bedroom and it was on fire."
___
"You hear that? A figure on fire." Sam says as we walk back toward the car.
"And that woman Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked.
"And you know what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit."
"Okay, well, you're being a tad aggressive about this, Sam. Take a breath and a step back." I lightly shove his arm before moving to Dean's other side.
"Well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true." Dean says.
"Forget about that. The thing in the house, do you think its the thing that killed mom and Jessica?" Sam asked.
"It's kind of hard to just forget that you suddenly see the future." I muttered.
"I don't know!" Dean replied.
"Well, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam asked.
"Maybe it's something else entirely, Sam. We don't know yet."
"Those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house."
"And we will."
"No, I mean now."
"And how are you gonna do that, huh? You got a story she's gonna believe?"
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asked.
___
"We just gotta chill out." Dean states as we stand outside of the gas station as he filled up the gas tank.
"I am chill. You two are the ones that need to calm down." I muttered as I sat on the trunk of the Impala.
"You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asked.
Sam exhales. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We dig into the history of the house."
"Except this time we already know what happened."
"Which should make things easier, but somehow it doesn't." I shrugged.
"But how much do we know? How much do you actually remember?" Sam asked.
Dean glanced over at Sam. "About that night, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"Not much." Dean shook his head. "I remember the fire. The heat. Then I carried you out the front door."
I reach out, taking Dean's hand.
"You did?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. What, you never knew that?" Dean asked.
"No."
"And you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. Whatever put her there was long gone by the time dad found her."
"And he never had a theory about what did it?"
"If he did, he kept it to himself." Dean stated, turning to sit beside Sam and I. "God knows we asked him enough times."
"Yeah, you two were kind of annoying as kids...You're still kind of annoying." I tried to lighten the mood, but I doubted it would work.
"Says Puzzle Girl." Dean muttered.
"I liked puzzles, don't bully me."
"So to figure out what's happening now. We have to figure out what happened then." Sam says. "See if it's the same thing."
"Yeah, talk to dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean agreed.
Sam scoffed. "Does this feel like just another job to you?"
Dean didn't answer right away. He didn't meet Sam's eyes or mine. "I'll be right back." He stood, pulling his hand from mine. "I got to go to the bathroom."
I watched as he walked away, knowing he was lying. But you know what, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and maybe I'm wrong. But by now, I can tell when he lies.
When he walked back toward Sam and I, I seen something in his eyes. I knew I was right. He blinked away the glassiness of his eyes.
Sam stood, moving to get in the car.
"You okay?" I asked, setting my hand on Dean's arm.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dean shrugged.
"You can tell me the truth. I'm here for you, Dean." I tell him.
"I know." Dean nodded.
I stand up, wrapping my arms around him. He returned the gesture.
"Thank you." Dean whispered, lips brushing against my neck as he spoke.