Shouldn't Be Here In The First Place

Rating: T - mild violence, mild language

Disclaimer: I own very little. Supernatural doesn't belong to me, although, It'd be nice to have my very own set of Winchester brothers to play with

"She knows everything, Dean." "Sam, she's annoying, don't care."

O0O

Part 1: The Twitch

O0O

"So, you think dad was actually here?"

"No idea."

"Wonderful."

Sam and Dean slowly pulled into the parking lot of the local diner in Semper, Colorado. After driving for seven hours straight, they had finally reached their destination. An "interesting disturbance", as the paper called it, had caught Dean's eye the day before - random, unexplained fires.

Dean turned off the car.

"Well, we can at least get something to eat, then check things out." Sam folded up the map, placed it on the dashboard and followed his brother into the diner.

The small bell on the top of the doorjamb signaled the arrival of new customers. The few customers already present turned to look at the new arrivals. Strangers. Looking soon became staring, followed by whispering.

"Well, what a warm welcome..." Dean said under his breath, not moving from the doorway. Sam passed by him and took a seat in a booth by the window, and looked around for the waitress. He saw her, a young woman, maybe his age in faded jeans and a black v-neck sweater, twirling her fingers through her short brown hair while she read a book at the counter. He noticed his older brother giving her a look over as he passed and took the seat across from Sam. She waited another beat before coming over to the Winchesters and setting a menu down in front of each.

"Can I get you boys something to drink?" Dean started asking her what sodas the fine establishment had available while Sam's gaze went to her eyes. A strikingly brilliant green, there seemed to be something unusual about them. Before he knew it those eyes were focusing in on his.

"Now, did you get all that, or shall I repeat?" She asked, with a slight smirk. Sam noticed her fingers kept nervously tapping against her pad of paper.

"Nah, just a coke will do." He smiled and she walked away. Both boys' gaze returned to the menus.

She soon reappeared with their drinks and set them on the table before reaching into her apron to retrieve straws.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" she jerked her regard towards Sam once more.

"Shoot." she replied plainly.

"How often do you get visitors in this town?"

"Not often, you guys are the second and third this year"

"Do you mind if I asked you who the first was?" Dean interjected.

At this question, the girl seemed more nervous than before, her fingers nervously spun her pen around in circles.

"He was a very nice man, about middle aged, mostly kept to himself..." she seemed to be choosing her words carefully, once or twice she looked over at the other booths and the people stealing glances back at her. "He stayed about a week or two at the beginning of last month."

Dean threw an interested look his brother's way, and Sam resumed the questioning.

"Did you ever find out his name?"

She almost visibly winced at this question.

"Um, whenever he came in I called him Mr. Williams, that's the name that was on the credit card he always paid with." Tired of questioning, she decided to change the subject, and took their orders. She wrote them down rather quickly and headed for the kitchen.

Dean watched the young woman as she walked away, Sam couldn't help but notice Dean's eyes roaming up and down, as if a reflex. Dean's gaze turned back to his younger brother's and smiled.

"Dad was here."

Sam looked doubtful.

"How do you know? There must be a million Mr. Williams in the U.S. alone."

Dean just smirked.

"Look at the clock on the wall, Sammy."

Sam turned and looked where he was told. He turned back. "Okay, it's 12:46. What of it?"

Dean lifted his arm so Sam could read the watch on his wrist; it said 7:15pm. Sam turned back to the clock and stared at it for a few moments.

"It's stuck," he said plainly.

"Damn right it's stuck." Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out the raggedy journal. He opened it up to the back and took out a loose piece of paper with the same sequence of numbers written all over it. 12:46.

"I found this in the hotel room back in Jericho."

"Alright, boys, here's your burgers. Can I get you anything else?"

The waitress was lightly smiling until she saw the journal. She twitched. Sam saw it.

"Uh yeah, this man, Mr. Williams, did he look like this?" Sam pulled an old picture out of his pocket and showed it to the girl. She looked at it and her left eye let out another faint twitch. She shook her head.

"No, he was older and had different color hair." She shoved that smile back onto her face and strolled off to refill coffees.

Sam looked at his brother.

"Dad was here."

O0O

Part 2: Marty?

O0O

She found that after they were done asking her questions, the boys were rather friendly. They'd been talking off and on for the past two hours while she moved about the small diner helping the dissipating customers. She just hoped they didn't ask her any more questions about him.

"You know, I just realized, I don't know your names," she stated, sliding into the booth next to Dean after the last customer left.

"I'm Dean, this is Sam. And you're Martha." Dean said, indicating to the bright green nametag on her sweater, spending an extra beat or two with his eyes on the spot. The faintest of smiles crossed his features and he leaned back in his seat.

"Oh, please, only people over the age of sixty call me Martha. Marty's fine."

"Marty." Dean repeated, Sam rolled his eyes and looked out the window. It was starting to rain.

A slight lull in the conversation arose and Marty slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out something brightly colored and began playing with it.

"So, what are you boys in town for?" She asked, her fingers busily working the glittering plastic.

Dean spoke up first. "Well, me and Sam are geologist majors at UCLA and we went on a trip out here to see the Rocky Mountains and take some rock samples from the Garden of the Gods."

"The Garden of the Gods is in Colorado Springs," Marty stated, "That's a ways from here."

"Well, that's on our way." Sam interjected. "We're heading down there soon."

Marty nodded and her gaze drifted away, watching her boss slip into the back room. She turned back to Sam and snatched up his gaze, holding it fast, her eyes flashing and determined.

"You won't find what you're looking for here, Sam. The answer's not here, not anymore. Your dad couldn't find it, and neither can you."

Dean watched his brother's face then sat forward and looked at the girl.

"Marty?" He asked tentatively.

She seemed to snap out of whatever, and turn to Dean with a smile that was so warm it could melt ice.

"Well boys," she said after another beat. "It's been great, but I have to clean up now, we're closing."

She got up and left them their check, saying they could pay at the register.

Dean slid into the Chevy two seconds after his brother.

"Well, she was nice," he said, turning on the car. "Except when she just stared at you like that, kind of weird. But I guess it's just these remote mountain folk. Weird."

"She knows more than she lets on. What do you think she meant when she said that?"

"When she said what?" Dean asked, pulling out of the parking lot and driving toward the hotel she had told them about.

"Back there, like 2 minutes ago. Before she gave us the check." Sam said.

"What are you talking about, Sammy, she didn't say anything."

"Yeah she did, she said that I wouldn't find what I'm looking for, and that the answer's not here anymore and dad couldn't find 'it', whatever 'it' is... I'm telling you, she knew dad."

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and stopped the car to look at his brother.

"Sammy, I think we need to get you into bed. You haven't slept much and you're starting to hallucinate."

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, whatever man, I know what happened." He got out of the car and headed for the hotel.

O0O

Part 3: Dreams

O0O

He couldn't sleep. That damn light was too bright. Dean rolled over in his weird-smelling bed and looked over at Sam.

"You mind? Not all of us are nocturnal."

Sam was flipping through his father's journal; he didn't look up from it.

"I know she said it Dean, I know what I heard."

Dean sat up. "Sammy,"

"It's Sam"

"Sam, let's say she did say it. Only to you. Then in order for her to do that, she'd not only have to be psychic, but also able to block out her conversations from whoever she wants. That requires power, she's far too young to have that much."

Sam was silent for a moment.

Dean nodded like that solved it. "Sleep. Now." He reached over and turned off the light and went back to bed. Sam shook his head and lay down too, placing the journal on the nightstand.

One drop. Two drops. What's that? Open eyes, JESS! On the ceiling, stuck. Blood, on her dress, when did she get that dress? "NO!" No! Not her too. Not again. She gasps. Oh God, no... Flames! Fire, she's on fire! God, I love her so much. Someone grabs hand, pulls me away. It's Dean, but his hands aren't his. Pull out of the room and slams the door.

It's her. Marty.

"You won't find what you're looking for here, Sam. The answer's not here, not anymore. Your dad couldn't find it, and neither can you."

She says. Then she turns into Dean, pulls me away out of the flaming house.

Sam sat up in bed, waking with a start, covered in sweat. He gasped for breath. Damn he hated dreaming. He saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw Dean, sitting on the bed, fully clothed, ready to go, a look of concern plastered on his face.

"You had another one, didn't you?" He said as more of a statement than a question. Sam gave a faint nod, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"She was in it. Martha, Marty." He said, shaking it off and getting out of bed. "She said the same thing she said in the diner." He picked up the shirt he discarded last night and pulled it over his head. Dean scratched the back of his neck.

"I need coffee."