Chapter 1: Under the Rug

"Carly?"

A blonde, round-faced young woman looked up from flipping through a small pile of books, searching haphazardly for a specific title. She was sprawled across her bed on the threadbare pink comforter she'd had since she was ten, her desktop computer opened to an eBay account and ready to receive the next textbook. The bedroom around her was covered in both dust and overuse of the color pink from years of its occupant finding other places to spend her time. The only light not leaking form her computer monitor filtered through the bent-up blinds as the last of the morning's rainclouds filtered away.

"Carly, open this door."

Carly sighed and stood up, detouring only to shut off the monitor before she headed to the bedroom door. Her mother insisted that-when Carly finally finished up her last summer classes and eventually graduated- these books would be invaluable. Carly, on the other hand, insisted that being able to buy her next round of textbooks was a bit more useful, especially if she also needed money to thereafter move out on her own. To date, she'd already argued with her mother about these points around twenty times and she didn't feel like adding fuel to whatever crazy thing her mom was upset about now.

"Caroline Thompson!"

"I'm right here." Carly said quickly, grey eyes tight as she tried to keep her voice nuetral.

She swung open the door to find her mother frowning back at her before carefully looking Carly over. There was always a hint of fear in Margaret's blue eyes when she did this, searched her daughter for a sign that she was still her daughter. It was yet another reason that half of Carly's search history was for signs of mental illness and hallucinations. That and the weird stories her mom told her. And the weird rules that Carly was not allowed to tell her friend about, like having a rug next to every door and bags of salt under every window. And could they go two years without moving cities? Please? Sheesh.

"Mom." Carly said finally, breaking out of her annoyed thoughts to find her mother still staring nervously. "What is it?"

Margaret's eyes focused finally and she smiled cheerfully at her daughter. "Out of milk, hon. Can you take a quick run to the store?"

"Now?"

"Now." Her mom said firmly, glancing suspiciously behind her daughter, probably at the piles of books strewn across the room. "You've been locked up up here long enough."

Carly only groaned in response and turned back to her room to grab some socks, her credit card, and a leash. She moved back to the door, hopping on one foot as she tried to slip the socks on without slowing down. She managed to survive her walk down the stairs and paused to slip her boots on as she glanced around the front hallway.

"Pepper?" Carly called through the house. "C'mere, Pepper!"

The sound of Pepper clattering across the house was followed by Margaret's voice. "Her jacket's by the door, Carly."

"Thanks," Carly sighed, locating the 'Seeing Eye Dog in Training' harness on a shelf as she finished distractedly snapping the cheap leash onto Pepper's collar.

The young woman stood, stretched, and then ambled over to finish readying Pepper for the short walk. She took a little more time then she needed, looking sadly at the dog as she stepped onto the front porch and kicking at the doormat as she considered the dog's calmly wagging tail. With how well the thin grey dog had been behaving lately, her days in the Thompson household were almost up; soon there would be another puppy to be overly attached to.

Although… if she was going to be moving out on her own soon…

Carly frowned at her thoughts as she tried to straighten the doormat again and found a streak of chalk trailing behind.

"Damn." Carly lifted the mat hopefully but… "Damn!"

"Caroline?"

"I'm fine." Carly called back. Sheesh, such a worrywart. "Just… Fine."

Carly flipped the rug back over with a roll of her eyes, wiped off the smudge with her sleeve, and followed Pepper's guidance down the front walk. She waved to the neighbor across the street and he waved back, not looking the least bit embarrassed to be caught staring.

Carly rolled her eyes again as she walked off.

She couldn't get out of this place fast enough.

…

Three Years Earlier

"You're not going."

"What! Why not?"

"You're not even eighteen. It's not safe. You're not leaving." Margaret, her hair half styled, half forgotten, argued frantically with her daughter as she tried desperately to snatch the official envelope from her daughter's grasp.

"It's fr—it's just college." Carly cried. "What did you expect me to do?"

"Online courses." Margaret said desperately. "The community college. And you applied without even telling—"

"Because I knew you would react this way!" Carly told her mother, managing to find her way into the kitchen doorway so that the older woman could no longer reach around her back for the wrinkled reply to Carly's application.

"And I know you won't protect yourself!" Margaret said desperately. "Do you have the water? Let me see your purse. Do you have it?"

"Mom—"

"Do you carry the Holy Water with you?" Margaret demanded.

"I—yes. In my water bottle. Straight from the fridge." Carly lied, hiding the discomfort of having to hide from the most important person in her life. "It's fine."

"And the trap. You remember the trap." Margaret said, starting to calm down. "You promise me that you'll find a place to put it? Where ever you live?"

"Yes, Mom. I will put your magic symbols everywhere I go." How messed up was life that she could say that seriously? "Just let me do this. I am begging you."

"Carly…"

"Please."

…

Carly found herself jogging back home, a jug of milk in both hands and Pepper bouncing gleefully beside her with her leash tied around the young woman's wrist. The dollar store she'd walked to was just only two blocks away and Carly made it almost to her front walk before she had to stop and set the milk down, crouching down to try and catch her breath.

Pepper, puzzled by the stop, padded over and licked Carly's hand until Carly got the breath to order her to sit. Carly turned to see the dog grinning up at her, panting slightly but wagging her tail with a thump against the ground. Carly tried to grin back but instead found herself sadly patting Pepper's soft head.

"You know, someday, you'll actually have a friend that's planning to stick around." Carly muttered. "And I'll still be missing you. Can you believe that?" Carly ruffled the dog's ears and finally managed a small smile. "People are crazy, aren't they?"

Together the pair stood up and walked the couple yards to the front walk. Carly, again lugging two gallons of milk, let her eyes swept over the dingy blue of the two story house, taking in the barren yard and the chipped paint, and—Her eyes narrowed as she stopped, halfway up the path, to look it over again. Dingy blue. Two story house. Ugly yard. Ugly paint. Tiny, five square feet of bare porch.

Shoooot.

The front mat was gone.

Carly started walking again, quickening her step until she reached and studied the small slab of concrete that served as a porch. All that was left of her mother's chalk work was a smear of color and a puddle.

"She's going to kill me," Carly breathed. "Oh, crap, Pepper. I didn't even lock the door. Oh, she is going to murder me."

Carly set the milk down and burst through the door, only pausing to unclip Pepper and let her bound off into the house. Turning and reaching in one movement, she tried to remember the exact shape her mother had taught her: maybe if she redid the dang thing now the next few months wouldn't be awful. Maybe she could pretend the squiggles had only been gone for a moment. Maybe…

Carly finally turned and looked at where her hand grasped for the bucket of chalk that her mother had been setting by the door since they first moved in eight months ago. Nothing.

Was that bad or good?

Slowly, lost in considering the possibilities, Carly stepped back outside to scoop up the milk yet again. She made her way through the hall, past the stairs, into the tiny yellow kitchen where her mother sat drinking tea at the table.

And her mother looked straight at her and smiled tiredly.

"Thank you, dear." Margaret remarked. "Why don't you put that away and sit down. We should chat."

"Oh," Carly mumbled. Was she about to get kicked out? Was that it? Or had mom just decided to move again? "Ok. What about?"

"About you moving out." Margaret said, watching Carly traipse across the kitchen and back. She gestured toward the chair and Carly reluctantly took a seat, feeling slightly sick. "I… Well, I'm hoping you won't, Caroline."

"I… Mom, you know I…" Carly looked down, feeling far too old for nineteen years of age. "I can't take it here anymore."

"I know," Margaret breathed. Her eyes watched her daughter as she leaned forward, everything about her urgent. "I know. So…" She paused. "So, I was… Maybe we could…"

"Mom?"

"Maybe you could go… clean up all that salt around the windows?" Margaret asked hesitantly. "Would that be a good start?"

"I… Oh." Carly's eyes had widened in surprise. "Um, yeah. No problem. Um. Great start."

"Thank you, Carly." Her mom smiled hopefully.

Carly couldn't resist.

She actually grinned back.

...

Author's note:

So. New story.

Still planning on continuing SWBL alongside this, but have had this in my head so much I had to get it out.

New to the spn writing so please review and let me know what you think!