Supernatural: Nightmare
A/N: Greetings everyone! I'm back with a new story where we'll be learning more about Sam's strange dream ability, discovers that he may not be the only one undergoing strange changes, and that he and his siblings aren't the only to lose their mom in a nursery fire.
Read, review, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.
CHAPTER ONE: MORE VISIONS?
`"'A man is parking his car in his garage; he turns off the gas and starts gathering some things in the car. All of a sudden, the garage door closes on its own, and the car doors lock themselves; the key turns in the ignition and the car roars into life. The man watches, confused, as the garage and the car begin to fill with smoky carbon monoxide; he starts coughing while trying to unlock the doors, which doesn't open.'
`"'The man shakes the keys out of the ignition, but the car doesn't turn off; panicking, he uses his jacket to cover the vents in the car, but the carbon monoxide continues to fill up the vehicle.'
`"'Help! Somebody, help me! Somebody, help!'
`"'He continues to pound on the doors and windows; soon, he collapses on his seat, dead.'"`
There was a blinding flash of white light, and Sam burst awake; he sat up in his bed, sweating. 'Another vision! But who was that man?'
Breathing hard, he reached over and began shaking his brother's arm. "Dean," he hissed, shaking him awake, and this lead to Liz waking up, too. "Dean."
Both Dean and Liz groaned; Sam got out of bed and started moving quickly around the room, turning on other lamps.
"What are you doing, man?" Dean asked blearily and sat up along with Liz, preventing her from hiding under the blankets. "It's the middle of the night."
"We have to go," Sam said, packing some items in a duffle bag and closed it.
"What's happening?" Dean asked sleepily.
"We have to go," Sam insisted. "Right now."
It wasn't long before, Dean was speeding down the road, while Sam talked on the phone.
"McCreedy. Detective McCreedy, badge number 15A," Sam read from a piece of paper and a fake id. "And I've got a signal 480 in progress. I need the registered owner of a two-door Sedan, Michigan license plate, Mary, Frank, 6037." He listened to the person on the other end. "Yeah, okay, just hurry."
"Sammy, relax," Dean said reassuringly while Liz yawned from the backseat. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."
Sam sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it."
"No, I mean it," Dean said confidently. "You know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out, you'll see."
"It felt different, Dean, Liz," Sam said, uncertain. "Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house and Jessica."
"Well, yeah, that makes sense," Dean said sarcastically. "You're dreamin' about our house, your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"
Sam shook his head. "No."
"No, exactly," Dean agreed. "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know."
Dean nodded. "Me neither."
"Yes, I'm here," Sam said into his phone while Liz sat up, curious. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?" he listened again. "Got it. Thanks." He wrote down the information and hung up, stunned. "Checks out. How far are we?"
"From Saginaw?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
"Couple hours," Dean answered.
Sam nodded, a grim expression etching itself across his face. "Drive faster."
Nodding while Dean glanced at Liz in the review mirror, stepped on the gas, and they sped away.
Police cars and ambulances were surrounding the area; paramedics were putting Jim Miller's body in a body bag, while police officers were talking to Jim's family. The Winchesters pulled up and observed the scene, disappointed that they were too late, and they exchanged a look.
Getting out of the car, Dean, Liz, and Sam were walking around, observing.
"What happened?" Dean asked a nearby woman.
"Suicide," the woman answered. "I can't believe it."
"Did you know him?" Sam asked.
"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's," the woman answered. "He always seems - seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."
"Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed.
"How did - how are they saying it happened?" Sam asked, doing his best to phrase his question without drawing attention.
"I heard they found him in the garage," the woman explained. "Locked inside his car with the engine running."
Dean, Liz, and Sam exchanged a look. Just like in Sam's vision.
"Do you know about what time they found him?" Liz asked.
"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago. Oh, his poor family," the woman said, sighing. "I can't even imagine what they're going through."
On the front steps of the house, a woman, presumably Jim's wife, was sobbing into the shoulder of a older man, and a slightly younger man was standing nearby. Seeing this, Sam became very upset and walked away, and both Dean and Liz followed him to the car.
"Sam, we got here as fast as we could," Dean told him, not wanting Sam to kick himself over all of this.
"Not fast enough," Sam complained. "It just doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have these premonitions, unless there was a chance that I could stop them from happening?"
Dean and Liz both shrugged as this was new territory for them both. "I don't know."
Sam sighed deeply. "So, what do you think killed him?"
"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean suggested. "You know, maybe there's nothing - supernatural going on at all."
"I'm telling you, I watched it happen," Sam stated, frustrated. "He was murdered by something, Dean, Liz. It trapped him in the garage."
"Well, what? A spirit, a poltergeist, what?" Dean asked.
"I don't know what it was," Sam admitted. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening, Dean, Liz." And frowned when his older siblings stared at him. "What?"
"Nothing, man, I'm just worried about you," Dean answered.
"We're both worried, Sam," Liz added.
Sam sighed again. "Well, don't look at me like that."
"I'm not lookin' at you like anything," Dean told him. "Though I gotta say, you look like crap."
Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Nice. Thanks."
Dean chuckled, but he was still worried. "Yeah, well…Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning," he suggested. "We'll check out the house, we'll talk to the family."
"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated," Sam pointed out. "They're not gonna wanna talk to us."
"Yeah, you're right," Dean agreed. "But I think I know who they will talk to."
Sam and Liz exchanged wary looks, wondering what Dean was up to this time. "Who?"
And Dean just smirked at them. Never a good sign.
The next day, Dean rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer while grinning at his twin sister and little brother, and neither were thrilled with what they were wearing.
"This has got to be a whole new low for us," Sam moaned, his hair was combed and gelled back neatly.
"At least you're not wearing a skirt," Liz grumbled.
Dean smiled, and then Jim's brother, Roger, opened the door, revealing that the brothers were wearing ministers' outfits, and Liz was wearing a black nun habit.
"Good afternoon," Dean said pleasantly. "I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Mary Clarence. We're new junior priests over at St. Augustine's. May we come in?" Roger nodded, and they went in. "Thanks."
"We're very sorry for your loss," Sam added, and Roger closed the door.
"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed," Dean began.
"Look, if you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine," Roger cut in rudely. "But don't pitch it to me. My brother is dead."
Just then, Jim's wife, Mrs. Miller, came into the hallway and overheard them. "Roger, please," she scolded.
"Excuse me," Roger said to the Winchesters, pulling in his temper, and he left.
"I'm sorry about my brother-in-law," Mrs. Miller apologized. "He's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"
"That'd be great," Dean responded pleasantly.
Soon Sam, Liz, and Dean were sitting on the couch, and Mrs. Miller handed each of them a cup of coffee.
"It was wonderful of you to stop by," she told them pleasantly. "The support of the church means so much right now."
"Of course," Dean agreed. "After all, we are all God's children."
Liz almost choked on her coffee, Sam stared at him strangely, and Mrs. Miller walked away; when she was gone, Dean took a mini hot dog from a platter and are it, making Sam scoff and Liz sigh.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Just tone it down a little bit, Father," Sam suggested quietly.
Mrs. Miller returned and sat down next to Dean and Liz.
"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" Dean asked, swallowing the hot dog quickly.
"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller answered. "We had our ups and downs, like everyone. But we were happy." And she started crying. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like that."
"I'm so sorry you had to find him like that," Sam told her honestly.
"Actually, our son, Max - he was the one who found him," Mrs. Miller responded, pointing to a teenage boy sitting alone in the corner of another room.
"Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?" Sam requested.
Mrs. Miller nodded with a sad smile. "Oh, thank you, Father."
Sam smiled and nodded, and then walked over to Max in the dining room.
"Max? Hey, I'm Sam."
Meanwhile, Dean handed Mrs. Miller a tissue.
"Mrs. Miller, you have a lovely home," he commented. "How long have you lived here?"
"We moved in about five years ago," Mrs. Miller answered.
Dean nodded. "Hm. You know, the only problem with these old houses - I bet you have all kinds of headaches," he remarked
"Like what?" Mrs. Miller asked.
"Well, weird leaks. Electrical shortages," Dean suggested while Liz repressed a sigh. "Odd settling noises at night, that kind of thing."
"No, nothing like that," Mrs. Miller answered. "It's been perfect." And she smiled.
Dean nodded again. "Hm. May I use your restroom?" he requested.
Mrs. Miller nodded. "Oh, sure. It's just up the stairs."
"Okay." Dean took another hot dog, put it in his mouth, and headed toward the stairs, leaving Liz with the older woman.
"I've never met a Father like him before," Mrs. Miller commented and Liz smiled slightly.
"Yes, Father Simmons is certainly one of a kind," she agreed. 'I'm so going to kill Dean for making me wear this stupid outfit!'
Meanwhile, Sam was talking with Max.
"So, what was your dad like?" he asked.
"Just a normal dad," Max answered sadly.
"Yeah? And you live at home now?" Sam asked.
Max nodded. "Yeah. I'm tryin' to save up for school, but it's hard."
"So, when you found your dad…" Sam began hesitantly.
"I woke up," Max answered. "I heard the engine running. I don't know why he did it."
"I know it's rough," Sam agreed. "Losing a parent. Especially when you don't have all the answers."
Max said nothing, but it was obvious that Sam was reaching him.
Once on the second floor, Dean looked around to make sure no one was there and removed an infrared thermal scanner from his jacket, and turned it on; he looked through every room on the top floor but saw nothing unusual. He heard someone coming up the stairs and quickly put the scanner away, just as both Sam and Liz appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Anything?" Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. "Zip."
Sighting, they went back downstairs.
A/N: And here is the first chapter of my new story; I had to do some research for Liz's nun outfit and the Mary Clarence name does come from Sister Act. R&R everyone!