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Episode 2: Nightmares

Chapter 4

I woke up to Dean shaking my softly.

"Come on, Nicole. We gotta go." He said.

"What's happening?" I asked as I struggled to open my eyes.

"Sam had nightmare, and we need to get somewhere now. Come on." He explained. Not much of an explanation. That's when I noticed the intensity of the two brothers as they quickly packed up their things. What happened? Whatever it was, I was startled to see the boys in such a hurry all of a sudden, so I didn't say anything else. I just packed my own stuff, which wasn't hard, considering I had just left my house a couple hours ago. We all climbed into the Impala, and Dean hurried the car out of the parking lot, and down the road. I checked the time on my watch; it was two in the morning.

"Guys, what's happening?" I asked.

"That's something I'd like to know." Dean said, glancing over at Sam, who was dialling a number on his cell phone. Exhaustion quickly over took me, and I yawned loudly.

"Alright, while you two figure this out, you don't mind if I sleep back here, right?" I asked.

"Go ahead." Dean said. I got myself comfortable, which was hard considering the cushions were essentially the same material as cardboard. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come.

"Mcready, Detective Mcready, Badge number 158." Sam said hurriedly into his phone. I frowned at the alias. "I've got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two door sedan, Michigan licence plat Mary-Frank-6037." There was a pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone. "Yeah okay, just hurry."

I heard Sam shuffle a bit, then repositioned himself.

"I think she's asleep." He said.

"Good. Sammy, you gotta relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I mean it. You know, a normal, everyday, naked in class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."

"It felt different, Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica."

"Yeah, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house, your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"

"No."

"No. Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

Before I could continue listening, sleep took hold of me.

Sam woke me up this time in I, assumed, Michigan.

"We're here. You can come and stretch your legs." Sam explains. I nodded my head, and climbed out of the back of the cramped car. My back hurt like hell after sleeping in there. I stretched my sore muscles, yawning as I did before looking around. We were parked in the driveway of somebodies house. It was still dark, but there was enough light to see neighbours crowding around the house. Sam joined Dean, who was talking to one of the neighbours. Police and ambulance were crowding the house, and I watched as they wheeled in a body into the ambulance's car. Is that what Sam was dreaming about? The boys started walking back to the car, and I began to overhear Dean talking.

"We got here as fast as we could, Sam." Dean reassured him.

"Not fast enough. It doesn't make sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?" Sam asked.

"You're having premonitions?" I asked as they came closer. Dean first looked annoyed that I had overheard them, but then nodded his head at me.

"So like… this was your nightmare? Seeing this guy get killed?" I asked.

"Yeah…" He turned to Dean, "What do you think killed him?" He asked.

"I dunno, maybe this guy just killed himself? Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all here." Dean suggested. I took a look at the house one more time to see if I could sense any bad vibes. But nothing stood out to me. Sam shook his head.

"I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, Dean. I watched it trap him the garage."

"What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, a what?" Dean asked, like these concepts were completely natural. They probably were to them. Maybe one day they'll come completely natural to me, too. I shivered at the thought.

"I don't know what it was. I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening to me, Dean!" Sam exclaimed. Dean and I just stared at him. We was starting to scare me.

"What?" Sam asked us.

"You're kinda freakin' me out a bit." I said. Sam looked at me, unamused. I forced down a giggle.

"I'm worried about you, man." Dean said.

"Well, don't look at me like that, guys!" Sam replied. Dean looked away from him.

"I'm not looking at you like anything." He said, and glanced back. "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap."

Sam glanced over at me, and I nodded in agreement.

"Nice. Thanks."

Dean moved to open the car door.

"Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, and talk to the family." He explained.

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk us."

Dean thought for a while, and then smiled menacingly.

"Yah you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

I frowned nervously.

"Who?"

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I pulled at my collar uncomfortably.

"Don't pull at it," Sam said, moving my hands away from the priest's collar I was forced to wear, "you'll stretch it."

I sighed, and started following the boys up the steps. Dean and Sam wore roughly the same outfit, although mine was a little more feminine. But not by much.

"Is this a normal thing?" I asked.

"Not at all. I think this is a new low for us, actually…" Sam responded. Dean just smirked at us as he rang the doorbell. The door opened to reveal a stressed looking man. Dean greeted him with a fake, yet convincing smile.

"Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehly, and this is Sister Carrikale. We're new junior's over at St Augustines. May we come in?"

The man nodded, and opened the door to us.

"Thanks."

"We're very sorry for you loss." Sam said.

"Truly." I added.

"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed." Dean explained. Sam and I glanced at him. He really stuck out like a sore thumb here…

"Look, you wonna pitch your whole 'Lord has plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead." The man exclaimed. A woman appeared from the kitchen, rushing over to us.

"Roger, please." She snapped, looking exasperated at his behaviour.

"Excuse me." Roger scowled, and walked away from us.

"I'm sorry about my brother in law. He's… he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?" The woman asked, whom I guess was Ms. Miller, asked.

"That would be great." I answered. We were lead into the lounge. Dean and Sam sat on the couch, and I sat on an armchair. Ms. Miller poured coffee in different cups, and handed them to us. I breathed in the scent nostalgically, remembering how my mother used to make coffee for Emma and I. A pang of guilt hit in my stomach as I thought of this. Suddenly I wasn't thirsty anymore.

"It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now."

"Of course. After all, we are all God's children." Dean said. I struggled not to face-palm.

Ms. Miller smiled politely at us, and then walked back to the kitchen. Dean snatched some cocktail sausages from the coffee table, and chewed them contently. He glanced over at me, and frowned.

"What?" He asked.

"You've never done this before, have you?" I asked. Dean shrugged.

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes, "just let me take the lead."

We watched as Ms. Miller came back and sat next to us. I leaned forward as I asked her questions, trying to be as inviting as possible.

"So, Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" I asked. It sounded strange hearing myself say this, pretending to be somebody I'm not, yet at the same time still attempting to live my passion of being a psychologist. Ms. Miller shook her head sadly.

"Nothing like that." She squeaked. "We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy." She began to sob softly, and her shoulders began to shudder. "I just don't understand… how Jim could do something like this." A large tear fell on her dress. Sympathy ran deep through me at the sight. I took her hand gently in mine, and looked deeply into her sad eyes. There was something else in them, too. I wasn't too sure, but she looked almost fearful.

"I'm so sorry you had to find him like that." I said softly and evenly. She shook her head, looking down at her knees.

"Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him." She explained, pointing behind her.

I looked to where she gestured, and saw a young man sitting in the dining room corner by himself, staring into space. Sam gave me a look, and I nodded my head.

"You don't mind if I talk to him, do you?" I asked Ms. Miller. "See, I've recently went through something… sort of similar. Maybe it'd be good for him to talk to someone who's had close to the same experience."

Ms. Miller nodded her head, and I smiled at her before walking towards Max.

"Max?" I asked, making him look up at me. Immediately depression was evident in him. It was the first thing I noticed in him. "My names Nicole. I'd like to talk with you." I explained. He just nodded solemnly, and gestured to a chair near him. I moved the chair so I could be facing him, and sat down.

"So how are you holding up?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Okay. I guess…" He grumbled.

"Look, Max, I… I know sort of what you're going through. See, not too long ago I found my mother on the ground. She had taken pills, and a lot of them." I explained.

"Is she alive?" Max asked with a hint of interest.

"Yeah, fortunately. But something in her changed, and well… long story short, that's why I left with uh… that's when I joined the church." It felt straight out wrong lying like this.

"My dad was just a normal guy. Pretty regular." He explained to me. I nodded my head.

"Right, so, when you found your dad…"

"I woke up, I heard the engine running…" He paused for a long time. I could tell he was fighting off tears. "I don't know why he did it."

"I know. Sometimes things just don't make sense. But we just gotta live with it sometimes." I explained.

"And how are you doing? What, with your mother and all?" Max asked. I pursed my lips together, remembering mom's angry eyes as I said goodbye. The anger not belonging to her, and I knew who was responsible for it. I clenched my fists as I breathed out slowly.

"Let's just say we're in the same boat here." I explained. Max nodded his head.

"It's… comforting to know somebody can relate a bit to me." He explained. I tried to smile at him, but I knew it wasn't convincing enough.

"That's what I'm here for, Max."

I met up with the boys again once we were outside.

"Did you find anything in there?" Sam asked Dean.

"Zip." Dean replied.

"How about you, Nicole? Noticed anything strange about Max?" Sam asked me.

"Not really. He's definitely depressed." I explained.

"That's not much of a shocker." Dean said. I shrugged.

"I dunno. Let me sit on it for a bit. I might come up with somethin'." I explained.

"Alright. Let's go back to the hotel." Sam said.

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I watched in mesmerisation as Dean cleaned a large array of weapons on the bed. He glanced up at me, and I looked away nervously. Sam had gone out to get some food for us while we re-grouped with our own deductions of the house.

"Thought of anything else about Max?" Dean asked.

"Well," I started, "He's like me. But I honestly didn't know what to tell him. When I had this happen, I ran away. Don't know if that's an option for him." I explained. Dean nodded his head, and continued to wipe down a large rifle. He smirked up at me.

"You wonna have a go at one?" He asked. I shook my head quickly.

"No," I laughed nervously, "I don't really want to break anything." I stated.

"You won't." Dean said, taking a pistol from the bed, flipping it so the butt of the gun was pointed at me.

"Go ahead. Give it a shot." He said.

I grabbed the pistol, and stared down at it. I didn't even know where to start. This obviously showed, as Dean put his rifle down and came over to sit next to me.

"Here, let me show you." He said. The bed concave where he sat, making our hips collide. It was kind of awkward, to be honest. He gently pulled apart the pistol in front of me, wiping certain parts down with a rag.

"Put your hand here." He said, pointing at a piece on the gun. I listened, but hesitantly. "Now pull up a bit, not too hard." He instructed. I did what he said, and the top of the pistol came off. It was a bit startling, and I jumped slightly. Dean laughed again.

"It won't bite… well, now at least. See, it's important to learn about gun maintenance, keeping them clean and making sure you have all working parts. Otherwise the only asshole it'll kill is you." He said, pointing at me with the rag in his hand. I frowned slightly.

"Isn't that from Fallout 3?" I asked. Dean looked slightly sheepish, and then nodded his head.

"Yeah, but well, it applies here, too." He explained quickly. I chuckled as Dean went back to his bed. Just as he did this Sam opened the door with a tray of fast food.

"Here," He said, handing the first burger to Dean, "with the extra large patty." He explained.

"Ah, thanks Sammy." Dean said, unwrapping the burger happily. When Sam handed me my own burger I noticed he had nothing for himself.

"Sam, you gotta eat." I said.

"I'm not hungry." Sam replied simply.

"At least drink something."

"Are you turning into the mom of the group?" Dean teased through a mouthful of burger.

I scoffed at him.

"No. I just want to make sure the guy's alright." I explained. Dean shrugged

"Fair enough."

Sam sat on the far end of the bed I was sitting on.

"So what do you have?" Dean asked.

"A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built." Sam explained.

"What about the land?" Dean asked.

"No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

"Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfer scent. Nada."

"Sulfer scent?" I asked. "What does that point to?"

"Demons." Dean replied simply. I raised my eyes at the blatant answer.

"Oh." I said, and started nibbling on my burger. Demons. Right. Completely normal, everyday demons.

"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" Sam asked.

"I dunno. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

Sam nodded, and began rubbing his temples.

"Yeah. Well, maybe it was nothing to do with the house." He said, taking a deep breath and held his head in pain. "Maybe its just… maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, moving his burger away from his mouth. I looked nervously at Sam sitting next to me. Sam grunted in agony, sliding off the bed and crouched to the floor.

"Aah! My head!" He cried. Dean practically threw his burger on the end table, and rushed towards Sam.

"Sam? Hey, hey!" He caught him by the shoulders. "What's going on? Talk to me!" He begged. I sat frozen on the other end of the bed, continuing to slowly munch on my burger. I watched in fear as Sam stared at Dean, but like he was staring straight past him into something else.

"Is he having another premonition?" I asked. Dean didn't reply, but continued to hold Sam by the shoulders. After a while, Sam's focus came back to the hotel room.

"It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller." He said breathlessly.

"Well, shit, we gotta go. Like now." I said, getting up from the bed.

"Agreed." Dean replied.

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It was like de-ja-vu when we got back in the car. Sam phoned somebody again, spouting out details quickly. I chewed my burger in thought as Dean drove down the rode in a hurry.

"Did you really have to bring that thing with you?" Dean asked sharply, looking at me through the rear-view mirror.

"I was hungry." I stated shyly. Dean shook his head at me. "You okay?" He asked Sam once he was off the phone.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery…"

"I'm fine. Just drive." Sam sighed heavily. "Dean, I'm scared man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense, and painful."

"Come on man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine." Dean replied. I couldn't help but think he was mostly talking to himself.

"What is it about the Millers. Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?" Sam asked, almost panicking.

"Relax, Sam. You'll figure it out." I explained.

"Plus we've faced the unexplainable everyday. This is just another thing." Dean added.

"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out." Sam said.

Dean was quiet for a long time as he drove.

"This doesn't freak me out." He said. Sam turned his head away.

"Really? Cause it's still kinda freaking me out." I said.

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We pulled up to Rogers apartment block to see him walking home with a bag of groceries. Sam rolled down the window quickly.

"Hey, Roger!" He called.

"What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone!" Roger spat.

"No, you don't understand, please!" Sam yelled back.

Roger ignored him, and made a B line to the front doors of the apartment. At that, Sam jumped out of the car and started running after him.

"Roger, we're trying to help!" He called. Dean rushed to park the car, and once he did, he jumped out and ran with Sam.

"Uh, guys?" I stuttered, watching them run after Roger. I sighed heavily, and climbed out of the Impala as fast as I could.

"Please! Hey, hey!" I heard Sam yell as Roger closed the door of the apartment building behind him, blocking us off. I ran towards the boys as they called after Roger in a panic.

"We're not priests, you gotta listen to us!"

"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean yelled once I caught up to them. He looked around, and nudged Sam's shoulder. "Come on, come on!" They took off running again to the back entrance.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. They didn't hear me, and only kept running. I ran after them, suddenly in fear of why they were in such a rush. I made it to them by the time they began scaling the fire escape. From there I was fairly close behind them. I didn't know how much I could help with, but maybe anything would do. Suddenly the sound of the windowsill crashing down on something wet and squelchy made me stop in my tracks. The boys did the same. We all looked in horror at Roger, whose body was crushed by the window. His blood splattered around the flowerbed outside. My stomach churned, and I let out an involuntary cry of fear. Dean hurriedly took out three handkerchiefs, and passed two to Sam.

"Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here." He explained. "Come on!" He pushed. I looked down at my hand, which was gripping the metal pole tightly. I hadn't realised that I was doing that. I pulled my hand away quickly.

Dean used the handkerchief to push open the window, pushing Rogers body inside.

"I'm gonna take a look inside." He explained. Once he jumped through the window, Sam handed me a handkerchief, and began wiping down the railings wickedly. I followed pursuit, but noticed my hands were shaking, and my breath was short with gasps. Sam seemed to notice, and looked at me in concern.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He said.

"No, it's okay…" I mumbled.

"Here, like this, in circular motions. It'll take off the fingerprints better." He explained. I nodded. He placed his hand over mine gently, as to calm my shaking. I looked up at him to see his understanding gaze.

"Easy, now. It'll get easier." He explained.

"What? Wiping off fingerprints?"

Sam shook his head.

"No. I mean this whole thing. You'll get used to it, eventually."

"You mean this'll happen a lot?"

"Yes," Sam said sadly, "unfortunately. But it won't always been that scary to you. I promise."

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The burger sat on the other end of the passengers seat in the car. Despite my hunger, I couldn't pick it up again. All I could keep seeing was Rogers dead body sprawled on a bed of bloodied flowers, and the fact that he was alive just a few minutes ago haunted me.

"I'm tell you there was nothing in there. No signs either, just like the Miller's house." Dean explained.

"I saw something, in the vision, like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger." Sam replied. This whole thing made me wonder how often these guys saw things like this. They both seemed completely composed, despite just witnessing a brutal death. It also made me scared for the future with them…

"Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?" Dean asked.

"No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?"

"Well yeah, there's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years."

"Aniak. Banshees, things of the sort."

"Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."

"And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying."

There was a pause as the two men thought about this. Then a though came to me.

"Do you think Max is in danger?" I asked.

"Dunno. But lets figure it out before he is." Dean replied.

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people." Sam said.

"What's that?"

"Both our families are cursed."

"Our family's not cursed!" Dean huffed. "We just… had our dark spots."

"Our dark spots are… pretty dark."

"You're… dark."

I laughed from the back seat, making Sam look over at me with a hint of a smile.

"Looks like she enjoyed that." He said.

"Well at least somebody did." Dean replied.