Chapter 2:
Chelsea sighed as she walked out of the airport. She was here back in Pleasant Grove for her father's funeral. It wasn't exactly the most glorious homecoming a woman could expect. She didn't want to have to face the realities of the hell called her life just yet. She wanted to be at Kenyon studying drama with her best friend Rose. It was her senior year; she didn't expect to come home so soon.
Her tear dried eyes were puffy and pink. She had been through hell and back in her short life. It was like she wanted to commit suicide and put everyone else's pain to rest. She still blamed herself for her mother's death just over twenty years ago. How ironic it was that her father died on that same fateful day merely twenty-three years later.
"Hey Meggie, I told you, I'd get here as fast as I could," Chelsea whispered as she hugged her sister in a long awaited warm embrace. All they had left was each other, and well maybe, Nick. She forced a smile out of her delicate lips as she looked at Nick. She was so grateful that she had him.
"Nick and I have made arrangements for you to stay at the hotel with him. We both thought it would be better if you didn't have to deal with the circus surrounding father's death. Plus it's hard enough for me to pack up his stuff. I don't want to put you through that too." Meghan said as she gently pulled her sister toward their car parked in front of the airport.
Chelsea nodded as she smiled into the back seat with Nick. She rested her head on his shoulders just breathing in his scent. It had been two months since she last saw her high school sweetheart. He was the one thing she was looking forward to coming back home.
"They have no clue to how your father was murdered, so don't think that you can come in and help with this investigation. You're going to rest and help Meghan make funeral arrangements." Nick stated in a warning tone glancing toward Meghan in the driver's seat for agreement.
"We don't want you getting hurt honey." Meghan said as if she was talking to her five year old daughter. She focused on the long ride back to Pleasant Grove.
"You don't believe me?" Chelsea shrieked sitting up and moving to her side of the back seat. Glaring at Nick she just shook her head. She thought she could trust him of all people and there he sat mocking her, and not only did he mock her, he told her sister.
"C'mon Chels, you have to admit you sounded a little crazy," Nick replied looking back at her.
"I don't believe this. I trusted you and you're calling me a liar?"
"I'm calling you a dreamer. It was just a dream."
"A dream that came true! I told you all the details about his death before you told me, how would I know that?"
"Maybe you talked to Meghan before you talked to me?"
Chelsea rolled her eyes and stared out the window. She would give the world for just one person to understand her, for just one person to listen. She let a few tears roll down her cheek. Her father did, only he did, and look where that got him. She was a jinx, a curse beyond death. Maybe, it was best that they didn't believe her.
The hour long ride seemed to drag on forever with the silence except for Meghan's bad taste in music. The Enya CD that she blared from the front was like nails on a chalkboard to Chelsea's ears.
Chelsea slammed the car door and stood outside as she watched her sister drive away. They treated her like she was still a little girl. She looked at Nick furiously and stormed in the other direction. She needed time to think, time to be along. She just needed to talk a walk. Chelsea had to admit; she was more than a little hurt when Nick didn't even try to stop her.
She stood in the back of the hotel crying vigorously. Her whole body trembled from the depth of her sorrow. She felt like she had nothing in this world. Who was she kidding? No one else saw the devil himself, except her. His big yellow eyes have haunted one to many times. Her father just glimpsed at the demonic creature that killed her mother. He would fight the depths of hell for Chelsea; she had always been his angel. Now, she had no one to fight for her, and she wasn't ready to fight for herself.
"Chelsea," A faint masculine voice said.
Amidst her tears, she didn't her the footsteps. It wasn't until she felt the peering eyes, she looked up. Two tall dark figures stood in front of her hunched body. She wanted to scream, but that would only prove Nick right. People that dark just had to be demons. She channeled all her energy and threw them again the concrete wall with her mind. She slowly stood up.
"I'm the wrong bitch to mess with. And I'm sick of this little game. I know the score, and it's time I settle this." Holding the two figures against the building, Chelsea practiced her new martial arts against them. When they didn't even try to fight back after hit after hit, Chelsea stopped and released them from their hold.
"I love a woman with a little spice in her," Dean said as he spit the blood out of his mouth and wiped his mouth. He brushed off his leather jacket and looked at Sam. After all it was Sam's brilliant idea to come out here.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. We shouldn't have snuck up on you in the dark. I guess I just thought you would have heard us…" Sam said as he looked at Chelsea.
Chelsea looked between the two men. She could tell it was the second one who had called her name before, by the softness of his voice. She rolled her eyes and started to walk away. She didn't want to hear another story. She had dealt with one two many demons for her liking.
"I know how bad it hurts to have a vision you can't control, you can't prevent it." Sam called after her.
"What did you say?" Chelsea said looking at him.
"He said he knows…" Dean said matter of factly.
"I know what he said." Chelsea almost couldn't breathe form the intensity of looking into Sam's eyes. It was like she could see into his soul, and it was more than just the fact that she could read his mind. Before she could say anything else, Chelsea fell to the ground screaming in pain.
Dean looked to Sam, who was knelt down to Chelsea. He couldn't see her thought, and he wasn't having the same premonition. He didn't know how to help her, and she looked so helpless. This was a woman who needed saving.
"Well, now you know how I feel when you do this to me," Dean said looking around to make sure no one came running to save her. She was a local, he was sure everyone knew her. "At least she wasn't driving."
Sam glared at Dean as he watched Chelsea. He could tell she didn't like what she was seeing. Someone or something was taking a great pleasure in torturing her.
"Nick!" Chelsea screamed as she opened her eyes. She looked at the Winchester brother and started running. She had to get to Nick's room; she had to make sure he was alright. She saw him die. She saw him on the ceiling like her mother… She hated these fucking visions.
She stopped when she noticed that the room door was open, and he never left that damn door open. She breathed in deeply. It was time she fought back. "Nick!" Chelsea called looking around the dark room. She walked to the middle and sat on the bed and turned on the lamp on the dresser. Bowing her head down in shame, Chelsea felt her body losing control. The lamp flew across the room and landed on the wall next to the door shattering. Not even a second after the lights went out, she could feel something dripping.
Sighing Chelsea looked up as the room burst into flames. It was happening all over again. She stood up on the bed trying to reach Nick's enflamed body to no avail. She was too late. She more she tried to reach him; it seemed to more the flames grew. If she didn't get out of the room, she herself would fry with him.
Solemnly she walked out of the small hotel room as her tears engulfed her again. What good was having psychic powers if you couldn't even save the ones you loved?
Sam and Dean stood in front of her looking at the room. There were things that were even out of their control. It was that moment of despair that whether psychic or not, the brother knew this hunt would change their lives forever. It was the city next to Lawrence, and it was the same horrid things that they faced everyday. It was almost a reflection of their own life with a few different turns.
