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"Do you know what's worth fighting for, when it's not worth dying for? Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating? Does the pain out weigh the pride? And you look for a place to hide. Did someone break your heart inside? You're in ruins."

I was bored and itching for a hunt. It didn't matter what it was I just wanted to kill something. Sam though, had me on locked down since St. Louis. Like it was my fault that that shape shifter stole my face. Whatever, I wasn't about to sit around on my ass anymore, either I was gonna go gank some evil sonofabitch or I was gonna go find dad. I cleared my throat glancing over in Sam's direction, "All right, I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, its crew vanished and uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey!" Sam finally tore his eyes away from the pad of paper he was holding and looked in my direction, "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No, I'm listening. Keep going."

"And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." I stated annoyed, waving three fingers in front of Sam's face. "Any of these blowing up your skirt, pal?"

"Wait, I've seen this." Sam said never taking his eyes off the paper he held in his hand.

"Seen what?" I asked as I watched Sam get up from his bed and begin looking through his duffel, "What are you doing?"

"Dean, I know where we have to go next."

"Where?"

Sam looked up at me wide eyed, "Back home……..Back to Kansas."

"Ok, random. Where's that come from?"

Sam held the photo he was looking at towards me, "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah."

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but….the people who live in our old house…..I think they might be in danger."

"Why would you think that?"

"Uh…it's just, um….look; just trust me on this, okay?" Sam stated before turning to walk away from me.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"

"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, tough." I crossed my arms raising my eyebrow at Sam waiting for him to explain himself. "I'm not going anywhere until you do."

"I have these nightmares."

"I've noticed."

"And sometimes….they come true."

I stared at Sam for a beat not really wanting to believe what I had just heard, "Come again?"

"Look, Dean….I dreamt about Jessica's death….for days before it happened."

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" I stated agitated as I ran my hand across the back of my neck and began pacing. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when…….."

"When what?"

I looked over at my younger brother trying to hide the tears that were building up in my eyes. He had no idea what he was asking me to do and how could he? Sammy was only a baby when she died; he had no memories of her. Just the thought of going back to that house made me sick to my stomach, "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?"

Lawrence, Kansas

I felt myself tense up as soon as I saw the 'Welcome to Kansas' sign. I always swore to myself that I would never come here, that I would never come home. For twenty-two years I kept that promise to myself but here I am sitting across the street from the only home I've ever known.

"You gonna be all right, man?"

Sighing, I turned the engine off before I looked up at the house. The only thing I could see was the night of the fire. Suddenly, I felt like that scared four year old little boy holding on to his little brother wondering where his parents were. "Let me get back to you on that."

I let Sammy drag me back to Lawrence only because I couldn't let someone else die in our house. I've always told everyone that I didn't remember much about my mom. It's just another lie that I tell to keep up my charade. But I remember her. I remember her voice, the flowery smell of her perfume, her laugh. She always tucked me in at night telling me angels were watching over me. Then, before leaving the room she made sure to leave my night light on and to check under the bed and the closet for monsters. It's kinda funny now when I think about it. It's ironic really that I now hunt those same monsters.

Just crossing the threshold unnerved me. I was suddenly hit with memories I had thought I had long forgotten as my eyes darted around the first floor. It wasn't exactly as I remembered but it wasn't all that different either. I remembered the last real Christmas I had, I ran down these stairs that morning into the living room to find a red bike with training wheels that I had wanted so bad. I ran my hand slowly over the banister and for a split second I could hear my mother telling me to stop sliding down it before I got hurt.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

I turned to see Sam standing behind me watching with his concerned puppy eyes like he was waiting for a chick flick moment. I cleared my throat avoiding his eyes, "Yeah. I'm fine. Let's get this over with."

An Hour Later

Gas Station

"We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" I asked Sam attempting to take control and bury all my emotions back down where they belonged.

"We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house."

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?"

"About that night, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Not much. I remember the fire…the heat." I paused shifting slightly as I met Sam's eyes before looking down, "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" He questioned not bothering to hide the surprise in his eyes or voice.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?"

"No."

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was…….was on the ceiling. And 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. God knows we asked him enough times."

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now. We have to figure out what happened back then……..and see if it's the same thing."

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."

Sam stared at me for a moment before speaking, "Does this feel like just another job to you?"

I didn't answer him. I didn't want to have this conversation with him, not now, not ever. I wasn't about to give him the chance to have his care and share moment. I rubbed the back of my neck avoiding looking at Sam, "I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom."

As soon as I turned the corner and making sure Sam couldn't see me, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed dad. I shouldn't have been surprised to get his voicemail. When has my father ever really been there for me? "Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em. But I'm with Sam…….and we're in Lawrence. And there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but……" I felt my voice break as I thought of mom. I paused taking a deep breath as I tried to keep myself together. I really didn't wanna fall apart on voicemail but I couldn't stop the tears that were blurring my vision, "I don't know what to do. So, whatever you're doing….if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad."

Later that Night

I wanted out of Lawrence so bad that I was having a hard time focusing on the job at hand. I knew I had a job to do but just being back here had me all tied up in knots. Every where I turned there was another memory, another thought of what might've been if mom had lived. I never told anyone that every wish I've ever made was that she was still alive. Sitting in my car as I stake out my old house I can't help but think about what could've been. Dad wouldn't be so obsessed, Sammy would've been normal and me, maybe I would've wanted that white picket fence life too. It doesn't matter though, I'll never be normal.

My most vivid memory of her is the Halloween when I was 4 years old, two days before she died. I was a firemen and Sammy was dressed as a Dalmatian. I was so excited and as soon as I woke up I begged her to let me put on my costume. She went all out with decorations; candy etc.... even threw a Halloween party that year for me and my friends. I was the happiest that day I've ever been and two days later she was gone and everything changed.

Halloween 1983

Led Zeppelin's 'Good Times, Bad Times' was playing on the record player; the smell of cookies baking was coming from the kitchen. I looked around before running into the kitchen to steal some cookies. Dragging the kitchen chair over to the counter, I tried to be as quiet as I could.

"Dean Winchester what are you doing?"

I shoved the rest of the peanut butter cookie into my mouth turning to look innocently at my mother, "Nothin' mommy."

"Oh really?" She smiled at me arching her eyebrow, "Then where did all those cookie crumbs come from?"

"I dunno. Cookie Monster?"

"Cookie Monster, uh?"

"Yup. Cookie Monster."

"So you didn't eat any? Because they're for your party later."

I shifted slightly looking down, "I had two."

"No more, okay you little cookie monster." She smirked ruffling my hair, "I made some pie too."

"PIE!!!"

"Yes PIE! But that's for after dinner, okay."

"Okay!" I jumped down off the chair bouncing on the balls of my feet, "Can I put my cosume on now mommy? PLEASE, PLEASE!!! SAMMY TOO!!!"

"Okay, okay but you have to wait until after lunch. We'll go see daddy and you and Sammy can show him your costumes."

"YAY!!!"

Present Day

When I was about six years old, I found a picture of me and her from that day in my dad's journal. It's the only picture I have of her. The picture is just me and mom sitting on the front steps. I'm all dressed up as a fireman with my little plastic pumpkin sitting in her lap. When I look at it, it feels like it was a lifetime ago or that, that younger version of me never existed. I took it and I've kept it hidden from dad and Sammy in the bottom of my duffel ever since. I keep it to remind myself of why I live this life and why I can't give up. I have to do this for her; she didn't deserve to die like she did. I know killing the demon won't bring her back but at least I can stop him from killing some other little boy's mother.