Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just dream about 'em

We were in a beat up primer gray van, driving down a dirt and gravel road. Dean was driving, I rode shotgun, and Sam, Bela and a balding, fat guy were all in the back. Dean kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye, not really glaring, but not speaking either. We'd had the argument getting into the van and I'd won so there was little else he could say.

We pulled up to a long, low-roofed white metal building and all climbed out of the van. A community clubhouse. "In the middle of friggin' nowhere," I heard Dean mutter as he slammed the driver's door closed. The man with us, Mr. Dennis, hurried to the door and unlocked it with a key from around his neck. I turned to him and smiled. "Thank you so much, Mr. Dennis. You didn't have to take time out to show us the place. We really appreciate it."

"It's no trouble at all," Mr. Dennis replied. "You kids just starting out, I wanted you to see everything the community has to offer. It's so good to see young families moving into the old town. Bring some life back to the place." Dean came around the van and put an arm around me, smiling, but I could tell from the way his hand gripped my shoulder how unhappy he was, not to mention the smile on his lips didn't reflect in his eyes.

As we entered the building, something hit me like an electric shock. His arm still around me, Dean felt me hesitate and turned immediately, concern now showing on his face. "Mattie? What is it?"

"Mr. Dennis? Are you sure nothing bad's ever happened here? Someone hurt during construction of the place or anything?" Holding the door for us, Mr. Dennis muttered something and followed Sam and Bela into the main room. "No, no, nothing like that. If anyone would know, I would. Lived here all my life. And you say your family is from here?"

"My parents, yes. They were married in that little white chapel off 277." I shrugged at Dean but Mr. Dennis nodded as if he knew the chapel I meant. "Of course, they moved away after the house fire, so I doubt you would have known them. That was back in the 50s."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Dennis agreed. He moved like a little bird twittering around, nervous and with his head down. Dean, Sam and Bela were all surveying the room, but I didn't need to; the main room had minimal furniture, a worn green leather couch, coffee table with magazines from the 90s, two worn-out armchairs and a familiar green rug. Glancing quickly around the room, I saw they had installed a new flat screen TV next to the fireplace.

"The kitchen's this way, right?" I pointed toward a hallway through an open door.

"Oh, that's right! You did say you'd been here before, hadn't you?"

"Yes, years ago. A family reunion." I moved through the room as though I really had been there. In fact, I had. Glancing at the magazines on the coffee table, I could almost remember reading those exact same issues. In the kitchen, Mr. Dennis opened the refrigerator and pulled out bread and meats to make sandwiches. "The local ladies here keep the kitchen well-stocked. You kids hungry?" He proceeded to pull out several slices of bread and slather them thickly with mayonnaise, ignoring Bela's answer, "No, really. It isn't necessary." I saw her look of disgust at the meager offering and almost chuckled to myself. "Not the hors d'oeuvres you're used to?" I thought, but kept the thought to myself. "It sounds great, thanks." I patted Mr. Dennis on the arm and a chill ran down my spine. For a moment, I thought I felt the same electric spark I had felt as I entered the building. Mr. Dennis didn't seem to notice, and neither did Dean who was looking back down the hall toward a closed door. "What's in there?"

"That's the game room" I answered absentmindedly, almost without thinking. Mr. Dennis didn't see Dean's puzzled look. My parents, the family reunion here -- all a cover story to get us in the building. I hadn't told him that it was actually true. I led him into the room, showing him a pool table, ping-pong table and several board games from the 70s and 80s stacked on a shelf.

"See? Game room." The same electric shock hit me and I closed my eyes, leaning on the pool table. From behind me, I heard the sound of someone playing ping-pong, and my cousin Charles saying with glee, "Game point!" Feeling a person brush beside me, I opened my eyes to see my other cousin, Randy, holding a pool cue and examining the table. He stepped around me and made his shot as our cousin, Cindy, laughed at him when the cue ball sank behind the ball he'd hit into the corner pocket.

"Mattie? Mattie, what is it?" Dean's voice cut through the familiar sounds of family laughing and playing. I opened my eyes again and saw the empty pool table in front of me; only Dean standing in the room next to me.

"Nothing. It was nothing. What we're looking for is in the kitchen. Let's go back." I led him back to the kitchen where Mr. Dennis had finished making the sandwiches. I followed his gaze to the far wall, or rather, his utter avoidance of that particular wall. He would look all around the room, but as his gaze traveled over that wall, his eyes jumped, trying not to look directly at it. I took a sandwich and handed it to Sam, indicating the wall over my shoulder. "There," was all I needed to say. Sam had noticed Mr. Dennis' actions too and he nodded at me.

I turned to Mr. Dennis. "Mr. Dennis? If I remember correctly, the game room once had a name, didn't it? Named after someone… I can't quite recall…"

I saw the angry look from Bela as I prompted him, which spurred more memories of that family reunion all those years ago. One of my uncles telling me the story and the name of the room -- named after a little girl, for what reason, no one knew.

"Yes, I believe it was, but that was so long ago, no one remembers the name or the story." Mr. Dennis' answer brought a near sigh of relief from Bela. No one else saw it but me. I saw Dean starting down the long dark hallway to the back of the building and Mr. Dennis saw him too. "Oh! No, no, no! You don't want to go back there!" Mr. Dennis followed quickly on Dean's heels, with me right behind him, eyeing Bela as I dragged her along with me.

"I do remember," I said to her, holding onto her arm. "The Bela Talbot Room, wasn't it?" Her glare was the only answer I needed. I released her arm and she turned back the other way.

I entered the doorway where Dean and Mr. Dennis had gone through. A fairly large storage room, filled with boxes, crates and old furniture, older than that in the main room. My eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and I started to look around just as everything went black.

Shaking off the headache, I lifted my head to see Dean in a standoff with a man who looked incredibly like William Hurt. A blonde woman and younger blonde girl were standing behind the man. Dean and the man looked almost like wrestlers as they faced each other, neither of them armed, but both appearing as they were about to attack. Dean saw me as I tried to lift myself from the floor, but he didn't take his eyes off the man, whose back was to me now. Mr. Dennis and Bela were nowhere to be seen.

"Dean…"

My head was spinning as I lifted up to my hands and knees. The man in front of me moved incredibly fast. He grabbed me and lifted me to his chest just as Dean whipped around with his gun out.

I saw Dean flinch when he realized the man was using me as a human shield, but he steadied his aim quickly at the man's head. I felt the cold steel against my throat and realized the man held a knife. Dean and the man circled each other again, the man bringing me with him as he moved. Trying to distract him, I said, "What… what are you gonna do to us?" Buying Dean time to get into position. A full head shorter than the man, I wasn't much of a shield. Dean had a clean shot, but the knife against my throat kept him from firing. As they circled, jockeying for position, Dean came closer to the young blonde. Still holding the knife to my throat, the man was distracted enough answering my question that he didn't notice.

"I'm going to put a nail right here," he tapped my forehead right between my eyes with his free hand. "Don't you worry, you won't even feel it."

I saw Dean grimace as the man groped me, but he held his ground, moving closer and closer to the young blonde. Finally close enough, he grabbed her and held the gun to her head. "Let her go, man!" Dean shouted. "Or I swear…" He didn't even need to finish the threat.

I felt the man's grip on me tighten as his own daughter was now threatened, but he didn't lower the knife. "Can you shoot both of us before I can slice her throat?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But you hurt her and both of you die." Dean's voice was a low growl, as an animal whose cubs are threatened.

The man lowered the knife just as Dean fired. A single shot, right to the head. A flash of hot pain surged through my shoulder and arm as he fell and the young blonde ran to his side just as Dean ran to mine.

"What the…" I was on the ground again, fire shooting down my arm into my wrist. Dean was over me, holding me on his lap and ripping his shirt off to use as a tourniquet on the deep cut in my left shoulder. "Shhhhh… It's okay, baby. Just hold on." And hold onto him was all I could do, gripping him with my right hand.

I saw Sam and Bela run into the room. Watched as Bela took the gun from Dean's hands. Heard the siren coming at a distance. Dean had instinctively dialed 911 on his cell phone, knowing I needed an ambulance. "Sam, get him out of here." Bela's voice cut through the pain shooting through my entire body. I felt Dean's grip on me tighten, unwilling to let me go. Sam pulled on Dean's arm, pulling him away from me as Bela wiped down the gun, aimed it at a spot just over the fallen man and fired once into the wall. "Go!"

---------------------------------------------------

As the paramedics loaded me into the ambulance, I saw Bela explaining something to the state trooper that had arrived with it. "... entered the building and ... heard a noise down the hall. She went to investigate and I heard her scream. I didn't know what to do when I saw that madman holding a knife to her so I picked up the gun and fired."

Someone else was swabbing her hand with a cotton swab. He nodded to the trooper as he tested it. Positive for GSR. "Where'd you get the gun?"

"The gun?" Bela did a good job of acting innocent. "I don't know. It was just laying there. I assume it was his." She nodded her head toward the body bag being carried out. The woman and the girl were being led away in handcuffs.

Another trooper approached. "It was him alright. Billy Talbot. We've been looking for him since the early 90s, since the disappearance of Mr. Dennis and Billy's own little sister. And… you're not going to believe this. The kitchen wall had been torn open and guess who we found inside?"

Just before the ambulance doors closed, shutting me in, I saw the trooper's eyes widen as his partner told him, "Mr. Dennis."