Chapter 3: Home
I was sitting eating a blueberry muffin happily at the table, while Dean was surfing the computer for a new case. Sam was sketching a picture of some tree, his brows furrowed in concentration. He had been acting kind of weird this morning, and I know for a face that he didn't sleep good. I had shared the bed with him last night, and he kept tossing and turning, and had woken me up a few times.
"All right," Dean said, leaning forward in his chair. "I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali - its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey! Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"
"No, I'm listening. Keep going," Sam said, hardly looking up at Dean. He was sketching away madly on his notepad, and was constantly comparing his sketch with the one he had drawn earlier.
"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." He waved his hand in front of Sam's face. "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?"
Sam looked at the picture he had drawn. "Wait. I've seen this," he inhaled sharply, holding it up.
"Seen what?" Dean asked, confused. Sam got up and went to search through his duffel bag, frantically taking things out as he searched for something in particular. "What are you doing?"
Sam pulled out a photo of their family from when he was a baby. He compared the tree in the photo to his drawing. They were identical. I looked over at the photo of Dad, Sam, Dean, and Mary. I winced at how perfect their family looked. Complete. Mary truly was a beautiful woman, and I could see where Dean and Sam had gotten their looks from.
"Dean, I know where we have to go next," Sam exclaimed, holding the two pictures in front of him. What had gotten into him?
Dean looked weirded out, and I was definitely feeling the same. "Where?"
"Back home - back to Kansas."
"Okay, random," Dean blanched. "Where'd that come from?"
"Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"
Dean's face grew haggard. This subject was a touchy one for him. While Sam had been a baby when their mom was killed, Dean had been old enough to remember it, and didn't like to speak of it. "Yeah."
"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"
"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean looked up at Sam like he had two heads. I walked up beside Dean, looking at the photo Sam held out next to his drawing. What had prompted Sam to think of that one specific tree and link it to a case?
"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but... the people who live in our old house - I think they might be in danger."
"Why?" I asked, looking up at Sam. He looked like he really believed this, but what could have given him this assumption, and all out of the blue?
"Uh... it's just, um... look," he stuttered out, trying to find the words to say, but he came up blank. I quirked an eyebrow at him as he just made himself look suspicious. "Just trust me on this, okay?"
He turned around, and Dean stood up, making a move to follow him. "Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"
"Yeah."
"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that." I could see Dean was getting worried; there was something going on with Sam. Something that he was hiding.
"I can't really explain it is all."
"Well tough," Dean snapped. "I'm not goin' anywhere until you do."
"I have these nightmares," Sam started.
"We've noticed," I muttered, and Dean nodded in agreement with me.
"And sometimes... they come true."
It was like hitting a brick wall. Wait, what? My mind sped up, trying to comprehend what Sam had just said. His dreams, come true? That wasn't possible. The words ran over and over in my head, but they just didn't make sense.
"Come again?" Dean asked, stunned, his brain clearly on a similar path as mine.
"Look, I dreamt about Jessica's death - for days before it happened."
My heart went out to him. I'd been told all about Sam's girlfriend, who was killed by the same monster that killed their mother. For him to have dreamt about it before it actually happened, then he must be feeling guilty...
"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean sat down on the bed, looking weary. Not that I blamed him, this was a different level of weird.
"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it, 'cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"
"I don't know," Dean exhaled, sounding overwhelmed by this new development. I sat down next to him, looking up at Sam who plopped down on a chair across from us.
"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"
"Oh Sammy," I murmured sadly. He shouldn't get his hopes up that revenge will come that easy.
"Alright, just slow down, would ya?" Dean snapped as he stood up and started pacing. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when..."
"When what?" Sam prompted gently.
Dean's face turned sad. "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?"
"Look," Sam murmured softly. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure."
"I know we do," he sighed, sounding resigned.
xxx
We pulled up out front of a modest, new home. It felt weird to me. This was my dad's old home, and my brothers', but I had no connection with this house. I stepped out of the Impala with my brothers, noticing the skeptical look on Dean's face. Apparently, Sam noticed too, because he asked "You gonna be all right, man?"
"Let me get back to you on that," he replied as they walked up to the front door. Sam knocked twice, and within a few seconds a kind looking blonde woman answered.
"Yes?" she asked, looking at them curiously.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Fed-"
"I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean, and our little sister Alexandra. We used to live here." I looked around sheepishly. I had never lived in this house. What made me nervous was the desire to have grown up here. The desire to be a full sibling to my brothers, to have shared the same childhood memories, the good and the bad. "You know, were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."
"Winchester," she mused. "Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."
Dean looked surprised. "You did?"
Jenny nodded and stepped to the side. "Come on in." We followed her into the house, where she led us to the kitchen. A young girl was doing homework at the table, while a small boy was bouncing around in his playpen.
"Juice! Juice! Juice!" the boy demanded, and I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She walked over to the fridge and took a sippy cup out which she handed to the boy. "But hey, at least he won't get scurvy. Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Alexandra. They used to live here."
"Hi," Sari said quietly. Dean and I waved at her.
"Hey, Sari," Sam said with his genuine big brother smile.
"So, you just moved in?" Dean inquired, looking around at the moving boxes still laying around.
"Yeah, from Wichita," she responded.
"You got family here, or...?"
"No. I just, uh... needed a fresh start, that's all." From the way she spoke, I figured there was more to her story. "So, new town, new job - I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."
"So, how you liking it so far?" Sam asked, starting to hint at the reason why they had come.
"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home - I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here, but this place has its issues." Yeah, happy memories of having your mother burned alive on the ceiling, I couldn't help thinking. I wondered what Sam and Dean thought about being back here. It had to be really hard for them, but neither showed that they were suffering.
Sam looked intrigued and worried at the same time. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." I jolted at that, and I noticed Dean's shoulders tense slightly.
"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" he asked, trying not to appear too desperate for information.
"Um... sink's back up, there's rats in the basement," she paused and looked at them sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."
Dean waved it off. "No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"
"It's just the scratching, actually."
"Mom?" Sari asked her mother, who knelt down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."
"What, Sari?" Sam asked gently.
"The thing in my closet," the kid murmured, looking a bit frightened. I stiffened. There was something in this house. I had a chill running down my spine, and I could tell there was something off about this place. Everything in my gut was telling me to get out now.
"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets. Right?" She asked the last part to Sam and Dean, looking for some help.
"Right. No, no, of course not," Sam rushed to reassure, even though he was obviously lying.
"She had a nightmare the other night," Jenny explained.
"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom - and it was on fire." Our expressions turned to ones of shock, and I felt my heart sink. Maybe this was the thing that killed my brothers' mom.
xxx
As we walked back to the car, Sam was practically vibrating. "You hear that? A figure on fire?" Sam demanded.
"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked, sounding like he wished Jenny was anything but the woman in Sam's dreams.
"Yeah, and you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."
"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true," Dean snapped. I had to agree with him. Seeing the future? That was a whole new level of weird.
"Well, forget about that for a minute," Sam sounded a little panicked. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"
"I don't know!"
"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?"
"Sam," I said quietly, trying to relax the situation a bit. "I think Dad would have ensured that it hadn't hung around here after..." I trailed off, unable to blatantly talk about their mother being murdered.
"Well, maybe it came back," he responded, hardly looking at me as he kept his gaze firmly on Dean.
"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet," Dean was starting to sound tired again. It had to be hard on him, knowing his brother was having visions of people dying.
"Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house."
"And we will."
"No, I mean now."
"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean snapped. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Neither me, nor Dean answered, as we climbed into the Impala and sped off. All our minds filled with questions, and none of us had any answers.
xxx
"Grab yourself a couple snacks kid," Dean said, as he began to fill up the Impala with fuel at the local gas station. Nodding, I walked inside the small shop and walked down the aisles. The unhappy emotions between Dean and Sam was incredible, the tension was unbearable. It made me ill just being around them, knowing that they wanted to scream and yell at each other until their throats were raw.
Shaking my head, I grabbed a bag of salt and vinegar chips, a bottle of water, and a turkey sandwich as Dean walked through the front doors. Sam came out of the bathroom, and he grabbed a chicken wrap and a water. Going to the front counter, Dean paid for everything before we headed back into the Impala.
As we climbed in, Dean slammed the door. "We just gotta chill out, that's all. 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 dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house."
"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?"
"About that night, you mean?" Dean asked, his tone growing tense. I stiffened in the back seat. I'd been told about that night by Dad, but he hadn't shared more than the obvious details.
"Yeah," Sam said quietly, gently prompting Dean to open up about it. I guess they hadn't discussed it much either, not that I blamed them.
"Not much," he sighed. "I remember the fire... the heat. And then I carried you out the front door."
"You did?" Sam's voice was filled with surprise.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Dean also sounded shocked. I felt like I was intruding on their moment, just another reminder that I was not a part of their lives. I was just a new burden to carry along with their already loaded baggage.
Sam shook his head. "No."
"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. 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?"
"If he did, he kept it to himself," Dean sighed. "God knows we asked him enough times."
"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now... we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing."
"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."
After a long pause, Sam spoke up again, his voice thick with emotion. "Does this feel like just another job to you?"
Dean never answered the question. "I'll be right back," he said as he opened the car door. "I gotta go to the bathroom." With that he walked away.
"Sammy?" I asked softly.
He turned around to look at me surprised. I cringed when I realized that he'd forgotten I was here. "Yes, honey?" he said gently.
"I want to sit this hunt out," I replied, looking down at my hands unable to meet his eyes. "Can you please ask Dean to drop me off at the motel room? If not, I can walk..."
"Are you sure?" he asked, surprise in his voice. I just nodded in response. "Okay, I'll tell him."
When Dean came back, Sam told him what I wanted. Not saying a word, Dean drove back to the motel and parked the car. I grabbed my bags, and the room key from Sam, and stepped out of the Impala. "Be careful, please," I said softly, shutting the door before they could say anything. Then I walked into the motel room, and collapsed on the bed, sobbing profusely.
xxx
Cut to Sam and Dean's perspective.
Sam and Dean walked into the house of Missouri Moseley, and sat on the couch waiting. A middle-aged woman was escorting a man out of the house. "Alright, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you," she said as the man thanked her and she shut the door behind him. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."
"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.
"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news," she answered. The boys stared at her and she rolled her eyes. "Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day."
They followed her into another room. "Well, lemme look at ya. Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She pointed at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too."
Missouri reached over and grabbed Sam's hands, giving him a sad look. "Oh, honey... I'm sorry about your girlfriend. And your father - he's missing?"
"How did you know all that?" Sam asked, genuinely shocked.
"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now." Sam's eyebrows raised.
"Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asked desperately.
"I don't know..."
"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean snapped, growing impatient.
"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit please." Sam smirked at her remarks. As Dean sat down, she snapped at him. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!"
"I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed.
"But you were thinkin' about it."
"Okay, so, our dad - when did you first meet him?" Sam asked.
"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire," she explained. "I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say... I drew back the curtains for him."
"What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?" Dean asked, leaning forward.
"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."
"And could you?" Sam asked.
"I..." she shook her head.
"What was it?" Sam gently encouraged.
"I don't know. Oh, but it was evil," Missouri sighed.
They explained to her about Sam's vision, and what they had learned so far. "So... you think somethin' is back in that house?"
"Definitely," Sam answered confidently.
"I don't understand," she mused.
"What?"
"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"
"I don't know. But Dad disappearing, and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once - it just feels like something's starting," Sam explained.
"That's a comforting thought," Dead grumbled, crossing his arms.
"There's somethin' else I wanna talk to you boys about," Missouri said, leaning forward, her face serious. "I understand you've recently added a new addition to your hunting party."
"Yes, our half-sister, Lexi," Sam answered, looking at her curiously. "She's back at the motel."
"Yes, sobbing her little heart out on the bed," she answered sourly. The boys' expressions turned to ones of shock. "That little baby is suffering more than even you Sam."
Dean looked at Sam, quirking an eyebrow, before turning back to Missouri. "What's wrong with her?"
"You're both as stunned as a sack of hammers," she snapped, looking at both boys in disappointment. "That sweet child has been raised with you two as her idols; she's longed for her entire life to meet her two big brothers, and you two have been treating her as an afterthought. Now I know you've got big things to do, but don't forget your family. You are all this girl has. She just lost her mother, who by the sounds of her thoughts, was quite abusive."
"Her mother abused her?" Sam asked, angry at the very idea.
"Not in the direct sense of the term. She was raised first and foremost a soldier. Imperfections were not tolerated, except when her Daddy was around. So I suggest you boys get your heads out of your behinds, and get to know your baby sister. And Dean, you stop calling her 'kid.'"
Both boys stared at her shocked, minds trying to wrap around what she'd just said. "First, I'll come with you to check out your old house."
xxx
Back to Lexi's Point of View
I sobbed for the better part of an hour, until I couldn't produce anymore tears. My mind kept thinking about how much I wanted a close relationship with her brothers. I wanted to be treated as an equal, and I wanted to know about them as much as I wanted them to know about me. I was never a part of their conversations, even when I offered helpful tidbits.
They don't view me as someone they want to have around. Rather as someone that they both got stuck with. An afterthought.
I ended up staying in the room for hours, but nobody showed up. I wondered if the might have left me, decided it was easier to ditch me than take me along with them. But I knew Sam wouldn't do that. He was a bit too soft to leave me behind. I think.
I waited until the evening, before putting on my belt, and making the decision to go check on my brothers. The house was several blocks away from the motel, so it wouldn't take too long to get there. Opening the front door, I pushed my shoulders back, took a deep breath, and walked outside.
The walk was surprisingly quick, but my desperation to make sure my brothers were ok made me walk faster. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that something was wrong. Within twenty minutes, I arrived at the front of the old Winchester house. The lights were flickering through the windows, and a heavy chill lingered in the air. There was an angry spirit in that house.
Grabbing my handgun, loaded with rock salt, I flicked the safety off and walked up the front steps. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I pushed open the front door. I could hear loud banging coming from the kitchen, and as I peered around the corner, I yelped when a bunch of knives flew across the kitchen, plunging into the table on its side. Dean peaked out over the table, his eyes looking around before locking on her. "Lexi?!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to help," I shrugged. I spotted a small bag on the counter next to a hole in the wall. They were trying to purify the whole house. Brilliant. Running over, I quickly grabbed the bag and stuffed it into the wall. A flash lit up the room, then the chill left the air. "Where's Sammy?"
"Upstairs," Dean said, pushing the table away from himself. "Come on. Stay close." The two of them ran upstairs.
"Sam!" Dean shouted as he spotted their brother, lying on the floor with a lamp cord wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air supply. Rushing forward, Dean knelt over Sam, trying desperately to pull the cord from around his neck, but it wouldn't budge.
Looking around, I spotted the bag next to the wall. I took my gun and shot a few loads at the wall, creating a small whole, which I stuffed the bag into. A blinding white light flashed, before everything settled. Dean quickly unraveled the cord from around Sam's neck, and pulled him into a fierce hug. I looked at them with a relieved and pained expression. They were so close; had such strong love for one another. I just didn't fit in their life. I could see that now.
We quickly purified the rest of the house, before we all went to stand in the damaged kitchen. "You sure this is over?" Sam asked.
Missouri nodded. "I'm sure. Why? Why do you ask?" She sounded slightly suspicious. I, for one, thought that it had been too easy. There had to be more than this.
"Never mind. It's nothing I guess," Sam sighed. The front door opened, and we could hear Jenny enter.
"Hello? We're home," she announced before walking into the kitchen. Her jaw dropping in shock. "What happened?"
"Hi, sorry," Sam said sheepishly. "Um, we'll pay for all of this." Dean looked confused at that.
"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess," Missouri said. When Dean didn't move, she snapped at him. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop. And don't cuss at me!"
I giggled softly, and she turned to look at me and winked.
xxx
"Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doing here?" Dean asked, sounding bored as we sat outside Jenny's house in the Impala.
"I don't know. I just... I still have a bad feeling," Sam explained. I shared in his feeling. Something about the situation still seemed... off.
"Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over," Dean rubbed a hand across his face. This case was wearing on him.
"Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that's all."
"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now," Dean sassed back, before he slid down his seat and shut his eyes. Sam looked up and shouted.
"Dean. Look, Dean!" All our eyes look up at the bedroom window, and could see Jenny screaming. We rushed out of the car and towards the house.
"You grab the kids Lexi, we'll go get Jenny," Dean shouted. I nodded and darted towards the kids' bedrooms.
I grabbed Ritchie from his toddler bed, and darted quickly into Sari's bedroom where she was screaming for help. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her behind me. "Don't look!" I shouted. We got to the bottom of the stairs, I pushed Ritchie into Sari's arms. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Go now!"
Something grabbed me and threw me to the floor. Disoriented, I saw Sari scream and run outside with her brother before I was dragged backwards into another room. Pain shot up my spine as I crashed into a table.
Before I could get my bearings, I was thrown into the cabinets. Hitting them hard, my head snapped back upon impact. Then I dropped to the floor hard. In a corner of my brain that still functioned, I could hear an axe chopping down the front door. "Lexi?" my brothers' voices shouted. "Lexi!"
A figure on fire was moving towards me just as Dean and Sam came into the room. Dean had a rifle in his hand, which he raised to point at the figure. "No, don't! Don't!" Sam yelled, moving the rifle away from the figure.
"What, why?!" Dean shouted back, confused.
"It's her," I said, voice weak. I knew who the spirit was, or at least, the one in front of us. There was something else here too, something much more violent.
"I can see her now," Sam murmured, looking at the figure in awe. The fire suddenly vanished, leaving in front of them the figure of Mary Winchester. Dean's expression softened, and he lowered his gun.
"Mom?" Dean asked softly. Mary smiled, taking a step closer to him and smiled. She said his name quietly.
Turning to Sam, she murmured his name as well. "I'm sorry," she said, tears pooling over her cheeks.
"For what?" Sam asked, tears moistening his eyes. Mary never answered as she moved to stand in front of me. I stiffened as she stared at me.
"Lexi," she smiled fondly. "You look so much like your father." I was frozen as I stared at her.
Stepping back, Mary looked up towards the ceiling angrily. "You get out of my house, and let go of my children!" She suddenly burst into flames, entirely engulfed and hit the ceiling. Then she and the fire vanished, and the invisible hold on me released. I slumped to the floor, battered and bruised from the table and cabinets.
"Now it's over," Sam said, as he and Dean both rushed to my side. The world was starting to tilt on its axis, and the last thing I saw was my brothers' worried faces as my eyes rolled back into my head and everything went black.