Supernatural: Home

A/N: Hello, fans! Okay so it's a day later then I'd planned on actually posting, but seeing how yesterday was 9-11, I just didn't have the heart to post, and so I'm posting today instead.

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 TWO: RETURNING HOME

The next day, the Winchesters pulled up outside the house.

"You gonna be all right, guys?" Sam asked, glancing at both Dean and Liz, who were staring at the house with trepidation on their faces.

"Let me get back to you on that," Dean responded while Liz just swallowed, and they got out of the car. After knocking on the front door, Jenny answered it, and Sam was shocked that she was the same woman from his dream.

"Yes?" Jenny asked.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean began.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean, and my sister, Liz," Sam interrupted, surprising his siblings. "We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place," he added quickly.

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny," Jenny remarked, earning a trio of confused looks. "You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean asked, surprised and confused. 'I thought dad removed everything before we moved into that apartment near the auto shop.'

Jenny nodded and stepped aside. "Come on in." and they went inside, of course both Liz and Dean were reluctant to go in, but they did after being nudged by Sam.


Inside the house, the four of them went to the kitchen, where Sairie was at the table doing homework, and Ritchie, her jumpy toddler brother, was in his playpen.

"Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" he shouted repeatedly, jumping up and down.

"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie," Jenny told them as she took a sippy cup out of the refrigerator and handed it to him. "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy," she added, walking over to Sairie. "Sairie, this is Sam, Liz, and Dean. They used to live here."

Sairie looked up from her homework and gave them a weak smile. "Hi."

Dean and Liz both waved.

"Hey, Sairie," Sam said, smiling slightly.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked, having noticed the half-dozen boxes scattered about on their way in.

Jenny nodded. "Yeah, from Wichita."

Dean nodded. "You got family here, or…?"

"No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that's all," Jenny answered. "So, new town, new job… I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asked.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home… I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here," Jenny remarked, and both Dean and Liz smiled weakly. "But this place has its issues," she confessed.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, being the only one without any memories of any kind about the house.

"Well, it's just getting old," Jenny said, shrugging. "Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad," Dean remarked, alarm bells going off inside his head. "What else?"

Jenny sighed, thinking. "Um… sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement," she explained and then paused, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain," she said, apologizing for her complaints.

Dean and Liz weren't offended and made that very clear.

"No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Liz asked.

"It's just the scratching, actually," Jenny admitted.

"Mom?" Sairie said and Jenny knelt down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here," she whispered.

"What, Sairie?" Sam asked, curious.

"The thing in my closet," Sairie answered, her eyes filled with fear.

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets," Jenny protested and turned to Sam, Liz, and Dean. "Right?"

Sam nodded. "Right. No, no, of course not."

"She had a nightmare the other night," Jenny explained.

"I wasn't dreaming," Sairie protested. "It came into my bedroom… and it was on fire." And Sam, Liz, and Dean were shocked, exchanging a look at what this could possibly mean.


An hour later, the Winchesters were walking back to the car.

"You hear that?" Sam asked, frantic. "A figure on fire."

Dean nodded. "And that woman, Jenny that was the woman in your dreams?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about?" he asked. "Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true," Dean remarked.

"Same here," Liz agreed.

"Well, forget about that for a minute," Sam snapped, panicking. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed.

"It could be anything," Liz added, clearly shaken.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam wondered.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam," Dean pointed out, "we don't know yet."

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean, Liz," Sam stated. "We have to get 'em out of that house."

Dean and Liz both nodded. "And we will," they promised.

Sam shook his head. "No, I mean now."

"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean asked. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

Sam sighed, having not thought of that. "Then what are we supposed to do?" he asked.


After they left the house, they drove to the nearest gas station, and they debated on to what they should do next.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all," Dean suggested. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam sighed. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with," he admitted. "We'd dig into the history of the house."

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

"All too well," Liz agreed, shivering at the memory.

"Yeah, but how much do we know?" Sam wondered. "I mean, how much do you both actually remember?"

An uncertain expression crossed both Dean and Liz's faces. "About that night, you mean?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Not much," Dean admitted reluctantly. "I remember the fire… the heat." He then paused, remembering something that he'd forgotten. "And then we carried you out the front door," he added.

Sam was surprised. "You did?" he asked.

Dean and Liz both nodded, recalling it clearly now. "Yeah, what, you never knew that?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as we do," Dean continued. "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?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself," Dean said. "God knows we asked him enough times."

"Yeah, plenty of times," Liz agreed.

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now… we have to figure out what happened back then," Sam suggested. "And see if it's the same thing."

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

Sam thought about it. "Does this feel like just another job to you?" he asked them.

Both Dean and Liz said nothing for a moment.

"I'll be right back," Dean finally said. "I gotta go to the bathroom." And he walked away; after turning a corner, he stood next to the bathroom door and took out his cell phone. After making sure no one could see him, he dialed a number.

`"This is John Winchester,"` said John's voice. `"If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235, or my daughter Elizabeth at 866-407-3425. They can help."` And the beep sounded.

"Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em," Dean said, clearing his throat. "But I'm with Sam and Liz. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but…" His voice broke and he was barely keeping himself together. "… I don't know what to do," he confessed, starting to cry, which was rare for him. "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad," he added and hung up sadly, with tears in his eyes.


While they were waiting for Dean to get back, Sam glanced at Liz, who was staring off into the space, and couldn't help but ask the question that was on his mind, even though he knew that it meant making her remember what happen on the night that their mom had died.

"Liz, what do you remember exactly about that night?" he asked. "And when you both had to carry me out?" he added.

Liz sighed and shut her eyes as the memories surfaced. "I remember being in bed, asleep, and then waking up to dad's shouts for mom; I ran out of my bedroom at the same time as Dean, and we both saw fire and smoke coming from your nursery," she explained. "We called out to dad just as he came out carrying you, and shoved you into Dean's arms; dad told Dean to get both you and me out of there, to run, and not look back while he went back for mom." She sighed and opened her eyes, looking directly at Sam, who was thunderstruck. "I don't know what was in the house that night, Sam, but I do know that dad did everything that he could to save mom, but it was too late. Odds are, she was probably dead long before he found her pinned to the ceiling."

Sam nodded, thinking it over. "Yeah, same as Jess." And they both fell silent, pondering the past and wondering what they were going to find out in order to help Jenny and her kids.


Jenny was showing a plumber to the kitchen, and over to the sink, explaining what was wrong. "No, sir, nothing weird down there, I promise," she assured him. "Sink just backed up on its own."

The plumber nodded. "Well, I'll take a look."

Jenny was grateful. "Thanks. Oh, okay, I'll get out of your way." And she left to do other stuff.

The plumber set down his tools and began looking at the pipes under the sink. A few feet away, by Ritchie's playpen, a toy monkey was sitting with cymbals in its hands; without warning, the monkey started up, clashing its cymbals together loudly while cackling.

After a moment, the plumber looked up, confused, and the toy stopped. 'Must have a motion sensor or something.' He then pulled the plug on the disposal unit, stood up and tried turning on the garbage disposal, making sure it was off; he then rolled up his sleeve and stuck his hand down the disposal.

At one point, he thought he felt something in the drain, but when he took his hand out, there was nothing there; sighing, he stuck most of his arm back down the disposal, trying to find the source. Suddenly, the garbage disposal started up, and his arm was being completely torn apart as blood splattered everywhere while he tried to reach the switch. At the same time, the cymbal-clashing monkey started up again, cackling as the plumber screamed.


A/N: R&R everyone!