Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own neither Buffy or Supernatural. They both belong to their respective geniuses, Joss and Kripke. I'm just borrowing them for a while for my own entertainment. If the boys were mine, lemme tell ya, they wouldn't be traveling the country fighting stuff. I'd find a few uses for them in my own house... Heh, j/k (but not really). This episode is pretty word for word from the Supernatural episode "Home." Transcripts taken from twiztv.
Sorry it took so long to get this out. I simply lost interest in this story for a while. In all of my fics, actually. But hopefully I've kicked my muse into gear!
Thanks to ZoiAstrea, dreaming.sapphire, Princessakarlita411, dhfreak06, redandyellowmarshmellow, dkwr07, enchanged nightengale, and Supreme-Writer for your lovely reviews! Glad you're liking them so far, and keep 'em coming!
On with the story!
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"Alright," Dean started. He was seated at the small table by the window, his fingers flying over the keyboard of Sam's laptop. Say was reclined on the bed with a pen and notepad in his hand, and Buffy was sprawled out at the foot of the bed with a newly whittled pile of stakes at her side. She looked up when Dean started talking, but Sam remained entranced by his drawing. Inconspicuously glancing in his direction, the Slayer saw that he was drawing a picture of a tree. With a curious tilt of her head, she returned her attention to the older Winchester. "I've been cruisin' 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." Buffy made a face. She was in no hurry to go back to California. "And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." He looked up from the screen to see Sam still immersed in his drawing. "Hey! Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?" The blond turned her head to see Sam looking up at them with a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression.
"No. I'm listening. Keep going." Dean gave him a suspicious look, but continued anyways.
"And here, a Sacramento man show himself in the head. Three times." He looked up to see Sam once again staring down at his paper and waved his hand to get his brother's attention. "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?" Buffy shot Dean an annoyed look and tried the more sensitive approach.
"Sam? You alright? What's wrong?" Dropping her knife and half-whittled stake onto the scratchy beige comforter, she crawled up the bed and sat down next to him.
"I've seen this," Sam muttered more to himself than to Buffy, his eyes still glued to the pad of paper.
"Seen what?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" Without answering, Sam got up from the bed, leaving a curious Buffy staring after him, and crossed the room to root through his duffel bag. "What are you doing?"
"Sam?" Ignoring both Buffy and his brother, he continued to search, finally extracting an old photo that depicted a man, woman, and two boys in front of a white house. Min-Sam and Dean. Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed the pad of paper and held it up to the photo. Both Buffy and Dean scooted closer to him, waiting, impatiently in Dean's case, for an explanation. Looking at the two objects, the Slayer realized that he was comparing the tree in the picture to the tree that he had drawn.
"I know where we have to go next."
"Where?" came Dean's confused question.
"Back home… Back to Kansas" A strange expression crossed Dean's face, and Buffy raised an eyebrow, wondering what caused that particular reaction. Had something happened there that they hadn't told her? However, in the blink of an eye, he managed to school his expression back to a small smirk.
"Okay, random. Where did that come from?" Buffy kept silent, sensing that this was going to be stressful enough without her butting in and asking questions.
"Alright, um…" Sam trailed off, showing his brother the picture and his drawing. "This photo was taken in front of our hold house, right? The house where Mom died."
"Yeah," came Dean's curt response. The blond watched nervously as his expression hardened, but made no move to comfort him. Things had been tense between them since the incident with the shape shifter. Although it hadn't been her fault, and she had had no idea that it wasn't him, he was extremely upset and hurt that she had slept with another man. It was irrational, they all knew it, but even now, weeks later, she could still feel the jealousy and resentment rolling off of him in waves. His inability to forgive her, though she in no way felt that she owed him an apology of any kind, and standoffishness had caused both of them to become increasingly snappy and impatient with each other, and Sam was usually the one caught in the crossfire. It was a battle of passive aggressiveness, and neither of them was winning. To be honest, she had been enjoying Sam's company far more than Dean's lately.
"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?" Dean nodded.
"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?" Buffy waited patiently, wanting just as badly as Dean to know what was up but feeling like it wasn't her place to pry. There was obviously something going on that she didn't understand, and they would tell her when the time was right.
"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but… the people who live in our old house… I think they might be in danger." Sam was starting to grow increasingly more uncomfortable, and Buffy slid her hand into his in a gesture of comfort. Sam smiled down at her, and though she pretended not to notice it, she saw that Dean's eyes narrowed slightly at their close proximity.
"Why would you think that?" he asked, forcing himself to look back at his brother.
"Uh… It's just… um… look. Just trust me on this, okay?" Gently extracting his hand from Buffy's, he stood up and started toward the bathroom, but Dean was right behind him, stopping him before he could get more than two feet.
"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"
"Yeah," came Sam's short answer.
"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a bit more than that," Dean ordered, clearly impatient.
"I can't really explain it is all." Sam was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the moment, and Buffy sat up a bit straighter, ready to run interference if things got too intense.
"Well, tough!" Dean was getting angry now. "I'm not going anywhere until you do!" Buffy had had enough. Standing up, she forced herself between the two brothers and glared up at Dean.
"That's enough! Can't you see that he's uncomfortable? Back off!" Her emotions had gotten the better of her, and although her voice was not any louder than usual, her tone conveyed her anger and annoyance perfectly.
"This is none of your business! Who do you think you are butting into our-…" But before things could escalate any further, Sam stepped in, grabbing Buffy around the waist and setting her down on the bed and pushing Dean back into his previously occupied chair.
"Stop it, you two," he ordered, grabbing the furious Slayer and effortlessly pulling her into his lap. She didn't struggle, completely comfortable in Sam's arms, but continued to glare daggers at her former lover. "That's enough. I know a lot of shit happened back in Missouri, but there's nothing we can do about it now. Dean, you need to get past it. All you're doing is driving a wedge between the three of us with your jealousy issues. And Buffy, you need to calm down. Understand that it was hard for him to see you with… him."
"But I didn't kno-" she started to argue, but Sam cut her off.
"I know you didn't know, but even so. Wouldn't you be upset if Dean slept with another girl, even if he thought it was you?"
"Not like my feelings keep him from sleeping with other girls," she muttered, and a muscle in Dean's jaw twitched. Ever since "the incident", as they called it, she had watched Dean flirt and go home with a new girl every night. But both their expression softened at Sam's guilty wince. There was no reason to bring that up now. Buffy and Dean nodded, content to drop it for now. However, all three of them knew that Buffy and Dean would once again be at each other's throats when they hit another bump in the road.
"Now. Do you want to hear what's going on?" he asked, and the other two nodded. Then, a if someone had flicked a switch, his expression once again settled into one of discomfort. "I… have these nightmares."
"I've noticed," Dean answered, his tone still slightly tense, and Buffy nodded in agreement. Almost every night Sam woke gasping and sweating, and it took one of them several minutes to calm him down enough to allow him to go back to sleep.
"And sometimes…" he continued, "they come true." There was a moment of silence as Buffy and Dean processed this information.
"Come again?" Dean asked at the same time Buffy asked, "You have visions?"
"Visions?" Dean asked, obviously extremely confused.
"Visions," the Slayer repeated, tapping into her inner Giles. "Seeing things before they happen. I get them. Part of the Slayer package. Things that the Powers that Be want me to stop from happening… to fix somehow… or just to inform me about." Sam nodded.
"Look, Dean, I dreamt about Jessica's death. For days before it happened." Dean shook his head, clearly unwilling to believe this.
"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence. I mean… Buffy has them because she's the Slayer, right? You're just a regular guy."
"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. I didn't know." His voice was guilty, and Buffy frowned at his obvious pain.
"Sam, you couldn't have know," she said soothingly and leaning back against him. "It's not something that many people can do. You had no way to know that it wasn't just a nightmare. It's not your fault." He smiled more for her benefit than hers and sighed, nodding. Of course he didn't believe it, but Buffy let it go, knowing that she wasn't going to get anywhere.
"And now I'm dreaming about that tree," he continued as if nothing had happened. "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 admitted in an uncertain voice. He was obviously overwhelmed by the fact that both his little brother and object of his affection had the power to see things before they happened.
"What do you mean you don't know, Dean?" Sam asked, his eyebrow furrowing in confusion, clearly concerned for his brother's sanity. Buffy looked on in silence, resting her head against Sam's chest, and waiting for the conversation to move along. "This woman might be in danger! I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!" He was getting worked up, which in turn made Dean start to fidget.
"Aright, just slow down, would ya," he ordered, sounding calmer than he looked, as at that moment, he stood up and started pacing the length of the room in tight circles. After a few seconds of watching him, Buffy started to get dizzy and had to look away, instead contenting herself by closing her eyes and concentrating on the rise and fall of Sam's chest. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining… Both of you! And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when-…" He paused, and the Slayer opened her eyes to see what was up.
"When what?" Sam prompted. It was a few seconds before the older Winchester answered.
"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there." His voice was quiet and full of pain, and Buffy immediately got to her feet, sensing the tension that only his brother could fix. Excusing herself and disappearing into the bathroom, she took her time washing her hands and face and brushing her hair. She emerged a few minutes later, and thankfully, the two seemed to have resolved their issues. Sam was shrugging on his jacket, and Dean was standing by the door, ready to go. "We're gonna go check out the house," he informed her in a tight voice, handing her her favorite leather jacket. She took it with a small smile, and followed him out to the car with Sam trailing along behind her. He was trying, and there was no reason for her not to. The drive was made in complete silence on their part, the only noise being the blasting music echoing through the car and shaking the frame. Several ear-splitting minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of a large white house and parked. Buffy could feel the tension build as the two brothers sat unmovingly looking at the house, and her gaze nervously flickered back and forth between them.
"You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked softly, and Dean made a face.
"Let me get back to you on that," he muttered, and pushed himself out of the car. Sliding across the leather and out the rear door, Buffy followed obediently, giving him a reassuring smile that he half-returned. The three stopped in front of the door, and Sam took a deep breath before knocking loudly. There was no answer for a few seconds, but then suddenly, a pretty blond woman in her mid-thirties answered the door with a curious smile. Noticing the way that Sam's eyes widened slightly when he saw the woman, obviously shocked that it was the same woman he had seen in his dream, Buffy discretely took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes returned to normal, and he smiled at the woman.
"Yes?" she asked, still looking at them curiously.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," Dean started, his voice professional. Only Buffy and Sam could tell that he was nervous as hell. "We're with the Federa-…"
"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam cut him off, deciding that playing the Federal Marshal card probably wouldn't be the best in this situation, "this is my brother, Dean, and this is Buffy, and old family friend." The woman's gaze shifted to her, and she gave her a small wave. "We used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could see the old place." The woman nodded, suddenly friendlier.
"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."
"You did?" asked Dean, curiously, and the woman nodded.
"Come on in," she offered, holding the door open for them. "Oh, I'm Jenny by the way." The three chorused their hellos and followed her into the house. The second Buffy stepped over the threshold, her Slayer senses went haywire. She looked up at Dean, who had been staring down at her expectantly, and nodded. She saw the muscle in Sam's jaw tighten, but he said nothing, instead following Jenny into the kitchen and motioning for Buffy and Dean to do the same. A little girl was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework, and a little boy no older than two was standing up and holding onto the bars of his playpen.
" Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" the little boy chanted, bouncing up and down and extending his arms in the direction of the fridge.
"That's Ritchie," Jenny informed them, taking a sippy cut out of the refrigerator and crossing the room to hand it to her son. "He's kind of a juice junkie. But, hey, at least he won't get dirty." Quickly downing the entire cup in a few seconds, he dropped it to the ground and held out his arms toward Buffy. Somewhat startled, she looked over at Jenny, who, though she looked puzzled, nodded her consent at the Slayer touching her child. Shrugging at Sam and Dean, who were watching her with confused expressions, she walked over to Ritchie and picked him up. He immediately latched his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. Little kids had always had an attraction to her. Must be that they could feel her power and knew that she could protect them. Not that she minded. Their minds and souls were so pure, and after seeing all that she had in her short life, it was somewhat refreshing.
"Hey, sweetie," she cooed softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and walking back over to the table where everyone was now seated. "How are you?" But the little boy simply buried his face into the crook of her neck and didn't answer. Smiling softly, she sat down between Sam and Dean, watching as they continued to talk.
"Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Buffy. They used to live here," Jenny was saying.
"Hey, Sari," Sam greeted. Dean waved awkwardly at the little girl, and Buffy extracted her hand from around the squirming two-year old in her lap for long enough to give her a wave of her own.
"Hi," Sari replied before turning her attention back to her homework.
"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked, creating a segue into the reason they were there. Ritchie grabbed a handful of Buffy's hair and tugged on it lightly, causing her to smile and look down at him. She adjusted him so that he was sitting on her lap, content on playing with her long blond hair while she focused her attention on Jenny.
"Yeah, from Wichita."
"Do you have family here?" Buffy asked gently, not wanting it to seem like she was prying. Jenny didn't seem to notice and shook her head. A particularly hard tug on her hair had the Slayer glancing down to see Ritchie grabbing a large chunk with both hands and clumsily attempting to run it through his fingers.
"No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that's all." Buffy nodded and got up, and with some difficulty, managed to wrestle Ritchie back into his playpen. He pouted for a few seconds, but she kissed him on the forehead, and a moment later, he was in the far corner playing with some of his stuffed animals. As adorable as he was, he was quite distracting when she was trying to obtain information. "…As soon as I find one. New house," Jenny was explaining as the blond once again sat down between the two brothers.
"So, how you liking it so far?" Sam prodded when she made no move to continue.
"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home," the woman started, clearly nervous that she would offend them, "I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here…" Dean smiled weakly, and Buffy shot him a sympathetic look. "But this place has its issues."
"What do you mean?" came Sam's response. His eyes were once again starting to widen at the possible confirmation that his vision was really coming true.
"Well, it's just getting old," Jenny said, the left side of her mouth pulling down into a delicate frown. "Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." Glancing a look at Sam, Buffy saw that his eyes were almost as wide as they would go, and she kicked him discretely, causing him to snap back to attention. Seeing that his brother was somewhat occupied, Dean continued.
"Oh, that's too bad. What else?"
"Um…" Jenny thought for a second. "Sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement." She paused and shook her head before continuing. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain." Dean shook her head as well, but his was to wave her apology aside.
"No." Then, a second later, he was back in business mode. "Have you seen the rats, or have you just heard scratching?"
"It's just the scratching, actually."
"Mom?" Sari piped up, and all heads turned in her direction. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."
"If what was here, sweetheart?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to the side.
"The thing in my closet," Sari supplied helpfully. Buffy frowned, and out of the corners of her eyes, she could she Sam and Dean exchanging looks.
"Oh, no, baby," Jenny cooed, instantly snapping into comforting mode. "There was nothing in their closets." She looked at Sam and Dean for help. "Right?"
"Right," Sam replied after a second. "No," he added with more conviction, "no, of course not."
"What did you see, Sari?" Buffy asked curiously, and the little girl opened her mouth to respond before her mom cut her off.
"She had a nightmare the other night."
"I wasn't dreaming!" she insisted, looking up at Buffy with wide, begging eyes. "It came into my bedroom… and it was on fire!" At this, the Slayer felt a jolt in her stomach and looking over at Sam and Dean, saw that their faces showed extreme shock as well. A few long seconds later, Buffy stepped in and politely excused herself and the Winchesters, saying that they had somewhere important to be. Thanking Jenny for her hospitality, she nudged the boys to their feet, and with a chorus of goodbyes, they left the house and headed toward the car, making sure that she had closed the door behind them before starting to discuss what they had just learned.
"You hear that?" Sam asked the second they were all safely in the car, and Dean started up his baby and pulled away from the curb. "A figure on fire."
"And that woman, Jenny… that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked hesitantly, clearly not wanting to believe it.
"Yeah." Sam nodded, and Dean made a face. "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights? Both signs of a malevolent spirit." Buffy thought for a moment before jumping in.
"I don't know… Whatever was in there… Something was definitely pissed. But something was… canceling it out. Controlling it somehow." She frowned, trying to make sense of something like this. She had never encountered anything like it before. Thoughtful silence filled the car, and of course, Dean was the first to break it.
"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true." This was directed at Sam, who was clearly starting to panic.
"Well, forget about that for a minute!" His eyes were almost twice as wide as normal, and Buffy looked on with morbid fascination as he started to flap his arms about as best he could in the cramped car. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the same thing that killed Mom and Jessica?" His anxiousness caused Dean to panic as well. He too started to gesture wildly, something that was extremely dangerous because he was driving.
"I don't know!"
"I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?" Sam started again, and looking at an extremely overwhelmed Dean, Buffy stepped in.
"Guys, you need to calm down," she ordered, her voice calm and collected. "It's not doing us any good for you two to get all worked up." Her words seemed to have somewhat of an effect on the two brothers, and they turned to look at her, seemingly calmer than before. "Now, we have no idea if it's the same thing. Maybe it's something else entirely. We don't have enough information to know."
"Well, those people are in danger," Sam answered resolutely. Buffy had a 'well, duh' moment, but chose not to share it. The situation was tense enough without her adding her comments. "We have to get 'em out of that house!"
"And we will," the Slayer agreed before he could get himself all worked up again.
"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean snapped at them. He was clearly upset, so Buffy decided not to fight back, but she narrowed her eyes at him to tell him to back off. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam shot back, and Buffy was relieved to see that Dean had pulled into a gas station and killed the engine.
"We just gotta chill out, that's all," Dean said, getting out of the car with Sam and Buffy on his heels. It was almost painful to watch him try and calm himself down. "Just like Buffy said. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do."
"Try and figure out what was in that house," Buffy supplied helpfully. "Find out what we're dealing with."
"We'd dig into the history of the house," Sam added, and Dean nodded, walking toward the pumps to slide the gas nozzle into his car.
"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."
"Yeah," Sam said thoughtfully, "but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?"
"About that night, you mean?" Dean asked, clearly uncomfortable at where this conversation was going. Sam nodded. "Not much. I remember the fire… the heat." He paused for a second before continuing. "And then, I carried you out the front door."
"You did?" Sam asked, clearly surprised.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" There was a defensive edge to his answer, and Sam backed off a bit, shaking his head. Buffy looked on uncomfortably, not sure what she should do.
"No."
"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do," Dean continued, the pain evident in his voice. "Mom was… was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." Quietly slipping past them and into the gas station convenience store, Buffy let the boys have their moment, and grabbed a few bottles of water and a couple of packs of chips off of random shelves, paying with a wad of cash Dean had won in his last poker game. Emerging from the small store, she saw that Sam was alone in the car, and dropped her purchases into the back seat.
"Hey," she greeted softly. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly, not looking fine at all. "I don't know about Dean, though."
"Where is he?" the blond asked, looking around and not seeing any sign of the older Winchester. Concern flooded her, and she frowned. Even though they had been fighting, her anger and resentment for him had dissipated completely the second his vulnerability and pain had surfaced.
"He went to the bathroom." With that, Buffy turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the restrooms, turning suddenly and stopping when she saw that he was standing outside the bathroom with his phone to his ear. He hadn't spotted her yet, and from the look of things, he was definitely not alright.
"There's something in our old house," he was saying. "I don't know if it's the same thing that killed Mom or not, but…" He paused, his voice breaking, and struggled to keep himself together. "I don't know what to do." He was full on crying now, and it took all of her strength not to run to his side and wrap her arms around him. "So, whatever you're doing… If you could get here. Please, I need your help, Dad." With that, he hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket before bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes. Not being able to stand it any longer, Buffy slowly walked up to him and, without a word, reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was stiff for a moment, clearly surprised and somewhat upset that she had seem him like this, but a few seconds later, he relaxed into her embrace, his head dropping down onto the top of her head. She held him in silence, feeling his sobs wrack her body and his tears drop from his eyes into her hair as he clung to her.
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Hope you all enjoyed that! I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please drop me a review on your way out!
