Disclaimer- Don't own...
Warnings- Wincest again... Language, violence...
The next one I wrote... This one is almost like the episode, but it has some differences. Enjoy.
"Home"
A woman sat in lamplight, boxes scattered around the room surrounding her. In front of her, a box laid open, a picture inside. She started to reach inside, a scratching noise came from above, interrupting her. "Don't tell me we have rats!" Looking up, she complained. The noise stopped. The woman resumed her task, leaning forward. The lights above her, flickered, shutting off. "Stupid wiring, you couldn't be new." She stood up, striding over to the basement door, flashlight in hand. Slowly descending the woman, reached for the circuit breaker. Before she could open the box the lights flickered back on upstairs, thinking nothing of it, she left going back upstairs to read in her bedroom.
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A little girl shifted in bed, hues locked on the white closet doors in front of her. Slowly they slammed open, hitting the walls. Inside was a fiery figure, who walked out, towards the girl, she backed against the headboard, screaming for help.
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The woman from the basement was in a upstairs room, pounding hard on a window. The lawn in front of her was barren, with the exception of a old withered tree…
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Sam sat up in the motel bed, a cold sweat running off his body. Across the room sitting in one of the uncomfortable arm chairs was Dean, who was looking at him concerned. The white laptop was open, in front of him.
"Are you okay Sammy?" No matter how many times Sam told his lover to stop, both knew he wouldn't.
Pulling down his sheet, Sam slid out of bed, clothed in nothing, but boxers and a light grey tee. Walking over, he stole a pad and pen from the table, before returning to his bed. "I'm okay."
Dean raised an eyebrow, he knew better. With Sam it was either a nightmare of Jessica's death or his rape. Talking about it helped, though Dean would never admit that he participated in a 'chick flick' moment. In the two months since the attack, Sam had recovered well, letting Dean cuddle (Something else he would never admit to.), make-out, among other things. Nothing below the belt though. "I'm sure you are."
Sam placed himself back on the hard bed, his back leaning against the headboard. Bringing a knee to his chest, Sam started to sketch the outline of a tree, the one from his vision. The vision had disturbed him greatly, but it was not something he would burden Dean with.
"I found a job." Dean turned himself back to the computer. "Some teenager was kidnapped…" Sam ignored him, continuing to draw. Something was bugging him, the tree looked familiar. "His friend Misty Hamilton was found dead, the cause of death unknown." Dean turned to face Sam, who was flipping through the pages, of the motel pad.
"Dean, I think I know where we have to go next." Sam cut of his brother, unknowingly. Quickly, he stood up and made his way over to Dean, leaning over, he grabbed their father's leather bound book. Flipping through the pages, he found what he was looking for; a picture of a family smiling in front of a house. "They look so happy, even me.' Sam thought, sadly. The family was his, taken less than two months before the murder. Focusing on the tree behind them , he gasped, taking his own drawing he compared the two. They were identical.
"…Sam?" Dean had been speaking. To him Sam was acting like a mad man. Staring, he waited for his brother to elaborate his finding, but instead he watched the other packing madly.
"I know this sounds weird." Sam pulled out some clothes for the day. "But we have to go home."
"Home?" Dean kept staring. The conversation was confusing the hell out of him.
The duffle bag was zipped closed. "Back to Lawrence, back to where this whole mess began." Sam made his way to the bathroom, stripping his boxer's once inside.
Dean on the other hand, pounded against the door as hard as he could muster. "What do you mean Lawrence? Why?" The man made a promise to himself, a long time ago, to never go back to his home. He had kept it up for twenty two long years, and wasn't going to back down now.
"You just have to believe me." Sam shouted through the door. Showering, he dressed, and ran out of the room, to see Dean just sitting on a chair. "Dean we have to go."
Striding over to the bed, Sam picked up his bag, A hand fell on his shoulder. "I believe you Sammy, I really do, but please tell me why? Why are we going back to that place?"
Sam was surprised at the raw emotion in his brother's voice. Looking up he noticed for the first time Dean had let his defenses down. All of them. The situation at hand was a serious matter. Explaining what happened would be hard. "It's hard to explain." Dean nodded his head, urging Sam to continue. "Sometimes I have these dreams." 'The nightmares.' Dean concluded, mentally. "Sometimes those dreams come true."
"Come true? How would you know that?" Dean was beyond surprised. His brother never lied about anything, or leave it out. At least before he left for college.
"The night that Jess died." Sam's hues, held unshed tears. Speaking about what he could have done to save his girlfriend, was still a festering open wound. "I saw it happen."
"Of course you did, but it wasn't your fault." Dean was confused. Sure Sam had been in the apartment, underneath his dead girlfriends body before the fire started, but that was just bad timing. Right?
Sam paced back and forth in the room, throwing his hands in the air. "That's it Dean. I saw Jessica die days before it happened." His voice was loud almost to the point of shouting, hands outstretched out in front of him.
Dean was at a loss for words. His brother having visions was not a everyday thing, even for them. "Before it happened? As in visions?" By this point Dean didn't care that he was repeating what his brother had told him. He was too pissed .
Sam nodded, slowly. In less then ten minutes the duo was out on the road, the Impala rumbling beneath them.
"So your saying a woman was in the front window of our old house, calling for help?" Dean repeated for clarification. Sam nodded. They had been through this numerous times before, and it was starting to make Sam nervous. They would going off of his memory after all. "Okay.' Dean was still trying to comprehend what his brother was trying to imply.
The rest of the trip was silent and later that afternoon, they arrived, stopping at a gas station along the way. "You fill up the car, Sammy." Dean strode past the gas pumps towards the rest room.
"Sure." The taller man started to pump, not bothering to correct his brother. He watched knowing what his brother was about to do, when he pulled the cell phone. He called their father a few times before, never getting an answer. Sam grew tired of it fast, accepting the fact that their father did not want to be bothered.
Dean knew he had to call John, if he didn't, the guilt would overcome him. The phone rang, going to straight to voicemail. This is John Winchester, if you have an emergency, then please call my son Dean at this number… Dean waited for the familiar beep. "Dad, it's me Dean. I don't know if you can hear this or care, but we are back home. Back in Lawrence, where it all started." The message ended with a beep and with Dean practically in tears. Sighing, Dean waited a moment to compose himself. Sam just watched from a distance.
"Let's go." Dean sauntered back to the car, acting like his moment never happened. Both men climbed into the car, silent. Both contemplating the topic on their minds at the moment, what was going to happen in Lawrence.
Around two or three the car stopped at the same house in Sam's dream. Dean looked at it, hatred in his eyes. The house though partially rebuilt after the fire, still looked unwelcoming. Sam looked over to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go."
Dean nodded stiffly, he did not want to be here. Slowly opening the door, he walked out and stumbled to the front door. Sam followed close behind, ready to catch Dean if he fell. He felt really bad about making his brother go through the pain of loosing their mother over again.
After a quick knock on the door the two men waited for a moment. The white door in front of them opened, a woman with long blonde hair poked her head out, a baby in her arms. Sam gasped to himself. It was the same woman from his dream.
"Hello." She greeted them ,confused by their arrival.
"Ma'am we used to live here when we were younger and are passing by. We got the idea to come see the old neighbor, for old times sake." Dean hoped his voice hadn't cracked during the sentence. In truth he wanted to run as far away from the house as possible.
Recognition flickered in her blue hues for a moment. "You must be the Winchesters then." The men exchanged a look. "I found some old pictures in the attic." She opened the door allowing her two guests to walk through. They did, looking at the surroundings as they were trained to do. The duo was brought into an old kitchen. A child sat in a chair at a table made for four, in the left corner a small playpen sat. The woman placed her toddler inside. "Sorry about the mess." The toddler held his hands in the air, begging for juice. Looking at him the woman smiled. "This is Josh, and he's a juice monster. Aren't you Josh?" Josh just begged for more juice. Making her way to the refrigerator, undoing the child safety lock and pulled out a small sippy cup, filled with juice. Handing it over to her son, she turned her attention to Sam.
"It's no problem Ms….." Sam smiled, showing his teeth and dimples.
"Carol, just call me that." Moving towards the child, who was staring at the new guests. "Maggie this Sam and Dean. Say hello to them." The girl looked up, making her black curls fall into her brown hues. Looking back at her mother, she spoke softly.
"Did they ever see the thing that lives in the closet?" Her voice underlined fear. Sam thought he knew what it was.
It's okay. Maggie." The little girl looked up. " There is nothing in the closet to worry about." Sam was surprised when she nodded her head, believing him. If only what he said was true. Sam was more determined then ever, to make his sentence the truth, but they would need to find out a way to do that."I know this may sound weird." Dean spoke up, letting Sam know they had a job to do. Reassuring little kids of thing that were real was not helping any of them one bit. Sam looked down, tracing patterns on the floor. "But has anything be flickering lately? The power maybe?"The blonde woman looked up, surprised at the question. She didn't know where to begin, so she started with the lighting problem. "Well yeah, in an old house like this the lighting is messed up. Flickering on and off at the weirdest times." Sam lifted his head up, sharing a look with Dean. Something was defiantly happening at their old house, but the question was what was doing it. " Let's see the pipes have been acting all whacked out, the water stops and starts at the oddest times as well. The pipes may be rusted, but one could just wish that things like this would be fixed before you come. Life can't be perfect at times.""Anything else?"
"Rats. I have heard scratching in the walls and ceilings. Did you have them when you lived here? Oh my I'm rambling aren't I?" The woman clasped a hand to her mouth, looking truly sorry for burdening the brothers. Sam lifted his shoulders, shrugging lightly. "I'm so sorry." The bell rang. "I'm sorry I have go get that, it was good to see you. " Carol went to pick up the toddler, continuing to the door, leaving the brothers to follow. Leaving the house, Sam and Dean made their way to the Impala running through the situation.
"Where do we go from here?" Sam asked, climbing into the car. He was at a loss on what to do. This was unlike any other hunt they had before. For Dean at least, Sam felt connected even though he couldn't remember it at all.
"What do we usually do?" Dean started the engine, turning the radio down.
"Look at the town's history, but we already know what happened." Dean looked at him, giving him the 'are you stupid' look. "What?" Sam held his hands up in defense.
"We should start with people Dad knew before and after the fire." Dean choked on his words, but held the tears at bay. This was harder for him them he thought. 'Nothing like how Sam must of felt.' Pulling out of the driveway, he went to the first place he could remember an auto shop.
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The man at the door, was just a business man trying to sell something. Closing the door, Carol sighed leaning against it. Josh made noises in her arms, begging to be let down. "Come on lets get you back in that playpen." Carol made her way into the room, placing the toddler in the playpen. The fan, and light above the table flickered. Looking up Carol turned back to Josh. "Mommy will be back in just a minute."
Walking out of the room she left with the intent of coming right back. Josh turned his attention from his mother to the fridge, where the juice was stored. "Juice, juice, juice." He started to chant, banging his pudgy hands against the bars. Above him a toy monkey, started to bang its two chimes clicking together, just as the safety child lock started to release itself, swinging the fridge wide open. Josh was entranced by the movement, not registering the unlocking of the playpen pins, opening the side. Running out Josh ran to his favored drink, climbing into fridge, knocking over a carton of milk on his way. Once he reached his juice, the fridge swung shut, the child safety locking itself back up. Trapping the toddler inside the fridge, with no escape.
"Oh Josh what are we supposed to do about this house?" Carol walked in, looking towards the empty playpen. The side was closed, but the empty thing had overcome any rational thinking. "Josh." Running to the playpen, Carol looked inside, behind and around it. No sign of Josh. Turning around, she noticed the milk making a puddle on the ground. 'I didn't spill any milk.' "Josh." She ran to the fridge, unlocking the child safety lock, opening the fridge. Sighing, she took her son out of the contraption, relieved beyond hell.
Softly reprimanding the boy, she placed him back in the playpen. Keeping a closer eye on him, then before.
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Sam and Dean stood side by side, an elderly man across from them. Around them cars were being worked on, as the smell of gasoline radiated from every pore. The man before them was one of John's old friends, back from before he went into the 'hunting' business. From what the brothers had gotten from the man, which wasn't much. Was that before Mary's death, John was a regular guy, played poker every Sunday night with a group of friends, and talked about the future. After the fire was when things got weird.
"John he wasn't right after the fire, why do you want to know anyway?" Sam held back a snicker. It took the man an awfully long time to ask the question. He could only begin to imagine what Dean had as their cover.
"We're reporters investigating the fire." Dean hoped his excuse was convincing enough for the man.
Apparently it was. Accepting the answer the man moved on, rubbing his chin. "After Mary died, he started to say things like how his late wife was on the ceiling. And the fire started from there. If you ask me he couldn't deal with the grief." Dean nodded, having heard this all before. "A few months later, he said he met someone. The name was Missouri. Said that she opened his eyes to what the real world was like." The man looked at his he had a lot more to say about that woman as well.
"Thank you for your time. You have been very helpful. Be sure to read the paper in a few weeks." Dean added some charm to his sentence, winked and left the building. Sam was grateful to be away from the gasoline, but as far as he knew they hadn't found anything useful yet. He was about to question, when Dean beat him to the punch.
"I know I've heard the name Missouri before." Dean opened his duffle bag, shifting the items around for an item. "Sam pass me dad's journal." Sam dug into his pocket, pulling out the old tattered leather-bound journal. Dean took it, opening it on the car's hood. Flipping open to a page Dean scanned the pages until he hit what he was looking for. "Here." He pointed to a passage, which Sam read mentally.
Today I have opened my eyes to the world around me. Missouri a powerful psychic helped me through this transition. Should I ever need her help, I now have a place to go for refuge. May I pray that I won't need it in my travels. Now I can find Mary's killer, and avenge her death, for my sake and my sons.
"You think this is the Missouri the man was talking about?" Sam thought that this was a long shot, but he would go with Dean. They had no other leads, and anything that may help them was worth looking into. The only problem was John had never left an address to reach the woman.
"Yeah." Dean walked over to a nearby phone booth, ripping out the yellow pages. Bringing it back to the car he shoved the book in Sam's hands. "Here look up psychics." Sam although annoyed did as he was told, a first for him. Opening the book he scanned the business section, finding what he was looking for. There were three places listed, two of which sounded corny in his mind.
Aloud Sam read them off. "Okay first we have, Clown the psychic." Dean shook his head no, there was no way in hell that was the place. "Uhm. Riley's tarot readings." Another no in both Sam and Dean's book. "And Missouri's psychic service." The last one although not as corny as the others still held some merit in that area.
"Let's try that one." Sam nodded, closing the book and tossing it to the ground. Climbing into the car, he waited for Dean to speed off to their next destination.
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The plumbing was not working again and Carol didn't know what to do. Calling a Plummer she waited for him to arrive. She didn't have to wait long. The doorbell rang only thirty minutes after her call. Welcoming the burly man into her humble abode, she showed him the sink. "The water isn't working."
"Okay, ma'am." The Plummer set his toolbox on the floor, before kneeling on the ground. Behind him Carol left the room, in order to put Josh to bed for his afternoon nap. "Okay let's see what we have." The man opened the cabinet doors, turning off the water flow. Taking off the bottom piece of a pipe, he placed a white bucket underneath. Getting up, he walked over to the garbage disposal, flipping the switch to turn it on. Nothing came out. Walking around he turned the power off of the machine, and stuck his hand down it, feeling around for whatever could be blocking the pipes. In the background the monkey from before started to swing his chimes together. It stopped seconds later, diverting the Plummer's attention. An uneasy silence ran throughout the room, creeping the man out. Lifting his arm, he found he couldn't move. Panicking he tried to lift it more frantically, in the fray the garbage disposal turned itself on. The grinding of blades, ran throughout the room, as the man screamed. In the bucket below the chopped up limb and flesh started to fall, leaving chunks of the man's arm.
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Sam and Dean were sitting in a small waiting like area, in Missouri's apartment/office. Magazines were scattered over a wooden coffee table. Leaning forward Dean picked one up leaning against the white leather couch pillows, Sam just snorted at his choice of reading. Before Dean could ask what was so funny, a dark skinned woman and man walked into the room.
"Charlie don't worry about it, you wife isn't going to leave you. In fact you two will have a long happy relationship together." Charlie turned nodding his head, exiting through the front door.
"Poor guy, his wife is cheating on him, and is thinking about leaving him." The woman whispered to herself, not noticing the rooms two occupants.
"If that's true then why did you tell him that?" Dean stood up, followed by Sam. The woman turned.
"Because I sell happy futures, things to look forward too."
Dean just nodded. The woman noticed who she was talking to afterwards. Her demeanor changing. "Ah. Sam, Dean it's nice to see you again. I'm Missouri. I've been expecting you." The dark skinned woman held out her hand ushering the brothers into her back room. "Come in come in. I haven't see you since you were babies."
Sam raised an eyebrow. The two followed the woman into another room, sitting on another pair of couches. "Dean don't you dare put your feet on my table, and don't think about cursing in my house." Dean stopped, feet hanging in mid-air. Sam couldn't help, but grin, causing Dean to glare at him.
"So do you know our father?" Sam had a wide eyed puppy dog look. He was excited be here.
"Know you father, boy I was the one who opened his eyes to the world he sees now. " Missouri took Sam's palm, running her hands along his lines. A sullen look overcame her as the air grew thick. "Oh Sam honey, I'm sorry about Jessica's death." Sam looked down. "Boy don't you blame yourself for her death either. It was not your fault." Dean sat up at that. He thought Sam had gotten over that mentally. 'Sam is more stubborn then a mule.' "Like you father was." Dean was getting irritated by the woman, but Sam seemed to like her. Seeing as his mood brighten. That reminded Dean of some things he wanted to ask, but before he could voice any of his thoughts, the woman answered for him. "Dean before you ask I do not know where your father is. I may be a psychic, but I cannot pinpoint a person's location."
Sam looked at his clasped hands. Wording his thoughts were becoming harder for him as of late, and this was just to weird to come right out and say. "Missouri." The woman looked up at Sam, a questioning look on her face. "Has anything happened at our old house."
"No, what do you mean?"
"Well its just that…." Sam trailed off, he didn't know what to say.
Missouri understood, standing up she walked to a window. "I have kept a close eye on that house and nothing out of the ordinary has crossed my eye, but if you would like to take me there. I can check for you."
Sam nodded, standing up. Dean just looked at the two. "Wait, why are we going?" Missouri and Sam both ganged up on the man. Holding up his hands, Dean surrendered. "Okay, okay." The three left the apartment, set on going to the house.
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Carol paced in her kitchen, phone in hand. This was not what she needed right now. "I'm sorry about the man's hand, but how does that make me responsible?" The man's company was filing a lawsuit against Carol, for the loss of his hand. Angry she hung up the phone, slamming it down on the table. Leaning against the kitchen sink, she sighed, placing her face, in her cupped hands. Life wasn't going well for the woman lately. In fact things had only gotten worse since she moved into the old house. 'So much for starting a new life.' Her attempt wasn't going very well.
Before she could contemplate any longer, the doorbell rang. Making sure Josh was in his playpen, and Maggie was watching him, she left to answer the door. Upon opening she saw Sam, Dean and another woman. She was half-tempted to close the door, but the woman stopped her, with words that deep down in her heart she knew was true.
"Hi Carol." Dean spoke for them. "This is my friend Missouri and…."
Missouri hit Dean on the back of the head. "Cut the crap. Carol my name is Missouri and I know that weird things have been happening to you. Things that cannot be explained, but we're here to help you. So will you please let us into your home, to see if we can help you." Missouri had caught the woman's fleeting thoughts, and easiest way to get them in, was to play on the woman's insecurities. It worked like a charm. The woman moved out of the way. "Thank you." Missouri whispered softly.
Walking inside the four walked into the kitchen. "What do you want to do?"
"Nothing much, Missouri here wants to walk through the house and see if she can sense anything. Is that fine with you?" Sam waved his hands back and forth, a habit he did when he was nervous. The house gave him a bad feeling. Something evil was here. Carol nodded, letting the three go.
Sam, Dean, and Missouri walked throughout all the rooms in the house, coming up with nothing, outside of what was expected. Until they hit the room, where Maggie now slept. " I sense something in here, I can't quite tell what it is."
Sam walked in looking at the closet, Dean close behind EMF in hand. The meter went off, like a rocket. "Why is that?"
Missouri looked at Sam shocked, the boy surly had to know. "Why Sam this was your old nursery?" The man in question looked down, out of guilt. Dean noticed, but chose not to say a word. It was better that way. "I feel something coming from this closet here." Turning around she faced the men before her. There was something here, something evil, unlike the one that had hit the house twenty two years earlier. "When this house was hit twenty two years ago a real evil came to this place. I have kept my eye on it because real evil makes its mark, making this place a sort of magnet for the supernatural. A poltergeist has moved into this house, and I believe it wants Carol and her family dead."
The hero inside Sam couldn't stand for this. Looking around the room he asked, "is there any way we can eradicate this thing?"
"Well there is one way, but we need Carol's approval…"
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Carol had said yes to Missouri's plan. The trio had to make preparations beforehand, so they had congregated to Missouri's kitchen. "What are these supposed to do?" Dean asked, picking up a little of the spices from a jar. They were in the middle of making several satchels of the stuff. Placing on his tongue, Dean almost gagged at the revolting taste.
"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." Missouri reprimanded him, like a child, while Sam laughed in the background. "These are what we are going to use to cleanse the house."
Sam raised an eyebrow. This was new to him, his family was more of the gun slinging, burning bones type people. Dean was going to have a field day with his, he already had in some ways. "Are we placing these in the walls or something?"
"That is exactly what we're going to do." The three continued to make the sacks.
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It was well past dark, when the Impala drove up to the house. Standing outside on the porch was Carol and her two kids, dressed and ready to leave the area. "Have fun at the movies." The trio waved them off. The plan was to get the house cleansed before the children got back, so they wouldn't know a thing. And maybe clean up anything that could happen in the house, while they worked. Spirits did get angst at times. Walking in the three spilt up. Missouri taking the basement, Dean the first floor, Sam the second. Each with a promise to call the others when they were finished with their part of the house.
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Missouri walked down the stairs leading to the dimly lit basement. Some moonlight filtered through the windows, getting onto her knees Missouri knocked along the walls, looking for a hollow spot in the east, west, south, and north corner.
For the first three all was fine in the room. A little too quiet, if one had to ask. Just as the woman bent over to find the last hole, a chest of drawers shook. Thinking nothing of it, Missouri took a hammer to the wall, making a hole. The chest of drawers slid across the room, hitting the woman straight in the back, sending her sprawling on the ground in pain.
Slowly, she lifted her arm, placing the last sack in its hole. The increasing pressure from the drawers vanished almost instantly, as she slumped, gasping for breath.
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Dean walked through the first floor of the house, knocking holes into the wall in the appropriate places. His final area was the kitchen. Walking in, he scanned the area, alert for anything out of the ordinary. One could never get caught off guard around an angry spirit. Walking over to the countertop, he leaned against the marble, knocking softly on the wall.
He found a hollow spot soon enough. Making his final hole, he heard a kitchen drawer open, Slowly, Dean turned around. "Oh shit." The drawer that opened contained the household knives. Said knives were currently suspended in the air, tips pointed directly at Dean's body., Ducking Dean extended a leg out to hit the table's leg. It connected throwing the kitchen table in the air, the knives going through the wood.
Standing up, Dean put his last sack in the hole, before the kitchen could do anymore damage to him. Wiping his brow, he leaned against the counter. "That was fucking close." In the corner, from the basement, Missouri came up, sweating heavily.
"Are you okay?" She nodded, out of breath. There was no sign of Sam, going upstairs, Dean made his way to look for his lover/brother.
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Sam like the others was in his last room when he was attacked. Finding his respective part in the wall, he knocked a hole in it. Behind him, the lamp cord unplugged itself, snaking it way along the floor. Sam didn't notice the cord, and leaned forward, ready to drop the sack inside.
Before he could move, the cord came up behind him, wrapping itself around his neck. Pulling Sam to the ground, the cord cut off his oxygen supply, slowly. Trying to fight the cord, Sam pushed his body forward. Extending his long arms, he almost made it to the hole. The cord fought harder with the man, trying to pull him back on the ground.
Behind Sam, Dean rushed in. Immediately Dean rushed to his brother's side, taking the white cord, that had by now was at the point of almost killing the younger man. Sam pointed to the hole, trying to tell Dean to put the sack in the hole. Fortunately he understood, Dean rushed forwards, throwing the sack into the hole. The cord dropped harmlessly onto Sam's neck as he gasped for air.
"Are you okay?" Seeing his brother almost die, again had shaken Dean up a little. Sam nodded, not trusting his voice yet. Standing up the two walked downstairs into the kitchen where Missouri awaited them. The kitchen was a mess, with dishes and papers on the ground.
Carol chose that moment to walk into her house. Looking around, she almost cried at the mess the ruckus had caused. Missouri came to the rescue though right on time. "Don't worry about this, Dean will clean it up." Behind her Dean huffed. "Don't you dare think about cussing me out. You made the mess you will clean it." Walking out of the house she bid the woman a goodnight.
When the cleaning was finished the brothers left, but Sam had a feeling that it wasn't over,
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"Sam, what are we doing out here?" Dean was pissed, not only did he have to clean up the whole kitchen, but he was stuck in his baby, watching the house he just cleaned.
Sam looked over at him uneasy, Truth be told, the only reason they were there was because of him. There was a feeling about the house that he just couldn't shake. Something was going to happen. "Just wait Dean."
The two were nodding off, twenty minutes later.
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Inside the house, Carol had just finished checking up on her kids. Crawling into to bed, she took out a book, intending on reading it. The minute she hit the bed, it started to shake. At first it was just a rumble, but it became more violent. Something was not right. Running over to the window, she pounded on it, hoping that someone could see her.
Sam was about to fall asleep, when he saw Carol pounding on the window, screaming for help. Hitting Dean, he got out of the car. Both ran up to the front door, kicking it open. "You get Carol, I'll take the kids." With that order the two were off, running upstairs as if their life depended on it. In a way it did.
Dean walked into Carol's room, taking the woman downstairs and out the door onto the front lawn, calling Missouri to tell her what happened. Sam was still inside.
Sam had just taken Josh out of his crib, when he heard the closet doors slamming open. He knew what it had to be the figure from Maggie's closet, running a little faster, he crashed into her bedroom. She sat at the edge of her bed, mortified. "Maggie, don't look at it." The figure continued to move forwards. Inching his way along the walls of the room, Sam grabbed Maggie with his other arm. Taking them both, he ran out of the room and downstairs.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs he repeated the same words, John had done twenty two years before. "Take you brother and get out of here fast." Maggie followed the instructions, running out the front door and too her mother, who greeted them with open arms. Dean looked around frantically for Sam.
"Where's Sam?" The front door closed shut, with a loud bang,
Maggie looked up at the scared man and answered softly. "He is still inside the house, it has him."
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Sam had almost made it to the door, when an invisible force grabbed him, forcing him onto the ground. Digging his nails into the ground he was dragged down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he was thrown from wall to wall. The spirit finally flung Sam to the pantry doors, where it raised each of his hands. Struggling Sam tried to move. It was useless.
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Dean ran to his car, opening the trunk. He picked out his axe, and ran to the door. Intent on knocking it down. After kicking it once or twice, the door had not budged. The time for the axe was at hand. Raising the weapon above his head, Dean brought it down, denting the door. Determined, he continued for a minute or two, making a hole big enough to get his hand into. With a salt loaded shotgun in hand, Dean opened the door from the inside, and made his way to Sam.
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Sam was still stuck to the wall, when the fiery figure from before, started to walk towards him. Struggling he noticed that something was different about his ghost. It didn't give him that uneasy feeling. Behind the figure Dean walked in, gun cocked. "No Dean don't." Dean just gave him a look, not lowering the gun.
Tears started to spring from Sam's eyes as he recognized the figure. "I know who it is, it's mom." Dean lowered the weapon at that, looking at the figure, as the fire that once surrounded it disappeared. A woman wearing a white night gown stood in its place. Sam started to cry harder.
"Mom is that you." Dean strode closer to the woman.
"Sam." She looked at her youngest son. "Dean." She looked at her eldest. "You both are wonderful children, with a future that will be explained it due time. Don't let morals get in your way either. You were made for each other." Tears leaked from the corners of Dean's eyes, he dared not let them fall though. Mary turned her attention to the ceiling. "You will not lay a hand on my family, burn in hell." She screamed, facing off with the spirit. A white light dispersed through the room knocking Dean over. After it ended, Sam landed gently on the ground, shaken up by the experience. Running over to his brother, Dean checked Sam, for injuries, earning himself a smile.
"I'm okay." It was true, Sam was only a little shaken up.
"Bitch." Dean started their old banter, relieved that Sam was safe. Placing a finger under his brother's chin, Dean pushed his head up, placing a kiss on his lips.
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The first rays of light came as Sam and Missouri sat on the front porch, conversing with each other. Dean was busy packing up the car.
"About what happened in there is my mother gone?" Sam was lost in his own world. Something was happening and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"I'm sorry Sam." Missouri patted his shoulder, not missing the wince Sam made. "Your mother is gone. She sacrificed herself to save you."
"Oh." Sam hung his head down. Intent on cheering up the man, Missouri took another crack at him.
"I'm proud of you Sam." Sam looked over at the woman in surprise. "You knew the poltergeist wasn't gone, even when I couldn't sense it."
Sam just looked down at his knuckles once again. "What is happening to me?" He looked at Missouri, lost. Nothing in life was supposed to be this hard.
"I honestly don't know." Clapping Sam's shoulder she stood up. Sam followed suit, walking to the car. Behind him Carol and her family waved. Sam and Dean returned it, climbing into the car, and driving away.
A/N: Review plz.