Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Sam or Dean. I own Becca

A/N: The is a long one. And part at the end goes out to noname. It was really fun to right. I hope you all like it.

We got there in record time, even with Dean behind the wheel.. Police cars and ambulances were everywhere. Paramedics were moving a body bag. We all looked at each other. A local woman said it was suicide. They found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running. Exactly how Sam saw it, except for the suicide part. Sam looked flustered.

"Sammy Dean gunned it all the way here." I reassured.

"Yeah Sam, we got here as fast as we could." Dean added.

"Not fast enough. It just doesn't make any sense, guys. Why would I have these premonitions, unless there was a chance that I could stop them from happening?"

"I don't know." I shrugged.

"So, what do you think killed him?

"Maybe the guy just killed himself. You know, maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all." Dean said. I didn't believe that for a second.

"I'm telling you, I watched it happen." Sam said. "He was murdered by something, Dean. It trapped him in the garage.

"Well, what? A spirit, a poltergeist, what?" He asked.

"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." Sam realized I was holding his hand and Dean was staring at him "What?"

"Nothing, man, I'm just worried about you." Dean said.

"Me too." I said looking up at him.

"Well, don't look at me like that."

"I'm not lookin' at you like anything. Though I gotta say, you look like crap."

"Shut up." I hit Dean on the arm and looked Sam over. "You just look, uh, lived in."

"Nice. Thanks." Sam said.

"Yeah, well—Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, we'll talk to the family." Dean said.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Sam said as I hand him his outfit the next morning.

"I went out and picked them up this morning." I said.

"And Dean's okay with this?"

"It was his idea."

"Dean." Sam knocked on the bathroom door. "Dean!"

"What?" He called out.

"Ministers Dean? I mean come on."

"Shut up and let Becca do your hair." Dean called through the door.

Sam looked at me. "You can do hair?"

I had no clue what I was doing. "Sure I do." I smiled and nodded.

While Sam and Dean ran interference, I climbed, actually shimmied up to the second floor. I looked through every room on the top floor with the infrared thermal scanner, but there was nothing unusual. I heard someone coming up the stairs and quickly put the scanner away.

It was just Sammy. "Anything?"

"Nope."

When we got to the motel room Sam did some research while me and dean cleaned all of the weapons. "So, what do you have?" Dean asked.

"A whole lot of nothing. Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built." Sam said discouraged.

"What about the land?"

"No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

"I told you." I said. "I searched that house up and down. And by the way, When am I considered old enough to run interference or pretend to be a cop or insurance person? Cuz paperwork is giving me paper cuts and I think I hear something pop when I was crawling into that window today."

"You know what my man Jack says. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy." Dean smiled.

"Well Dean ya know what Budd from Kill Bill says?"

"What's that?"

"You're not that smart. You're just smart for a blonde."

"The family said everything was normal?" Sam ignored me and Deans bickering.

"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed something? Becca used the infrared thermal scanner." Dean told him.

"So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself? And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

"I don't know. But I'm pretty sure that there's nothing supernatural about that house." Dean said handing me the gun I clean. "Don't just rub it, clean it Becca."

"Yeah." Sam said. He made a face and started massaging his temples. "Well, you know, maybe, uh—maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe, it's just, uh—gosh—maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." Suddenly Sam grabbed his head in pain.

"Sammy?"

"My head!" He screams. We rushed over to him.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders. "Sam? Hey. Hey! What's goin' on? Talk to me. Becca go get him a wet towel."

Sam clutched my arm. "It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

Sam was right. More than right. His description of Roger Miller's death was… exact. We tried to warn him, but he didn't want our help. The window slamed shut on top of his head. There was blood spattered on the glass and everywhere. Sam looked like he was gunna puke. He was breathless and sweating. He looked terrified. He looked the way I felt. But he was convinced that there was something in there. Something stalking Roger. He was also convinced that…both our families, the Miller's and ours, were cursed.

When we went back to the hotel Sam thought he'd clear his head and go get food.

"We were just out, why didn't we…"

"I need to take a drive." Sam cut me off. There was finality in his voice that made me shut up.

"So what are we watching?" Dean fell onto his bead.

"Dean…"

"Oh it's that show you like, with the drama and the drinking and the teens in their twenties."

"Dean…" I repeated.

"You'd think with all that money these girls could afford the fabric to cover themselves up. I'm not complaining I just…"

"Dean! What are we gunna do about Sam?"

Dean turned off the TV "It's not a big deal Becca Anne."

"Not a big deal? Sam turns into some future telling guy, fine I can pretend to be cool about it, but you saw him. Holding his head, tears in his eyes, looked like a pretty big deal to me."

"Come on," Dean said. "He'll be fine. We'll all be fine. Don't go turning into 'broody Becca' again."

"Oh whatever. Don't go pretending like you don't care and I'm crazy cuz I do care when really you're crazy cuz I care and I know you're pretending ya don't when ya do."

"Huh?"

"Dean what are we gunna do about Sam?"

"I dunno…I'm not pretending not to care. I worry about him. It's my job to worry about you two. I'm your big brother. It's only gunna freak him out if we lose our cool. We have to be there for him right now. But I don't think for one second that this thing is gunna get the best of us. Strange things happen in this world. We figure them out. We fix them. Sam will be fine. I promise you that okay?" He tipped my chin so that I was looking at him. He brushed away the tear that escaped my eye. "Okay?" he repeated.

"Okay." I gave in. I wasn't worry free, but Dean didn't make promises he couldn't keep. At least he didn't when it came to me and Sam.

Dean and Sam (or should I say Father Simmons and Father Frehley) went to see the Millers again while I waited in the car. After a half an hour I'd gotten through two math problems out of thirty. I couldn't concentrate. I didn't hear the cell ring until the third time.

"Yeah?"

"It's me." Dean said

"Where are you?"

"The Miller's bathroom. Listen, I need you to look up their address." He said.

"Okay, or I could just look at the house right in front of me. You know the one you're standing in right now…"

"Cut the sarcasm for a sec. I mean their first house. I gotta go, Sam can only stall Max for so long."

"Bye Dean." I said and started with my search (cuz everyone knows how much I LOVE paperwork.)

"So I thought Max told you they were totally normal and happy." I asked my brothers on the way to the Miller's old neighborhood.

"Nobody's family is totally normal and happy." Dean replied. "You had to see his face when he was talkin' about his old house."

Sam nodded "Yeah. I mean the guy sounded scared."

Unfortunately my brothers were right. Sam and Dean would have been gloating nonstop if it weren't for the darkness of the situation. Max lied. They all lied. Max's father and uncle apparently used to beat Max to hell and back on drunken binges. They even broke his arm twice. And his mom, or should I say step mom, did NOTHING to stop it. The neighbor was about to tell us about his real mom, when Sam got another one of his flashy things. We got him away from the public eye.

"Oh my God." Sam said. "Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing."

"What?" I asked.

"You sure about this?" Dean said.

"Yeah, I saw."

"How's he pullin' it off?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I mean Sammy it doesn't add up." I agreed. "This tiny kid gets beat up by his HUGE Dad and uncle for years, and now all of a sudden he's stong enough to kill them both? How could he do that?"

"I don't know. It looked like telekinesis." Sam said.

"So, he's psychic? He's a spoon-bender?" Dean asked.

"A spoon-bender?" I asked. "What the HELL is a spoon bender."

"Pretty self-explanatory I'd say." Dean quipped.

"I didn't even realize it, but this whole time he was there." Sam said, more to himself than us. "He was outside of the garage when his dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time, I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max. The thing I don't get is why, man? I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about? The dude's nothing like you." Dean said.

"Well, we both have psychic abilities. We're both…"

"Both what?" I was glad Dean asked, because I didn't even want to think about what Sam was gonna say. "Sam, Max is a monster. He's already killed two people, and now he's gunnin' for a third."

"Well, with what he went through…the beatings. To want revenge on those people, I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane."

"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family." Dean shot back. I flinched at his words. "He's no different than anything else we've hunted. Alright, we've gotta end him. " He pulled over and pulled a gun from the glove compartment.

"What do you mean end him?" I asked. "Dean?"

"We're not gonna kill Max." Sam said confidently.

"Yeah, no Dean I don't feel right about this." I added, not so sure.

"Then what?" Dean asked. "I hand him over to the cops and say, 'Lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind.'"

"This isn't a joke Dean."

"I'm not laughing Becca."

"Forget it. No way, man. He's a person. We can talk to him." Sam looked him right in the eye. "Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

"Alright, fine. But I'm not lettin' him hurt anybody else." Dean hid his gun. I didn't like it. This wasn't a plan. Dad taught us to follow orders, follow plans. How could we… I had to snap out of it. Plan or no plan I was a soldier. This was just a kid. Dean probably wouldn't even need to pull the gun. In that case we talk and no real plan is needed. Then again this kid was also a supernatural killer. In THAT case he needed to be stopped and Dean had a way to do it. No plan needed for that either. It all sounded so simple in my head. I hopped it would work out just as cleanly. But then again in my line of work, nothing ever all that clean.

Everything seemed fine (or at least as fine as it can be when you walk in on a physic kid trying to kill his mother). Sam wanted to talk to Max alone. As far as I was concerned that wasn't even an option. Dean didn't like it either, but for some reason he let it happen anyway. "I thought he said he was going to protect Sammy?" I thought. "Leaving him alone with a killer, that's what I call good protection." I wanted to slap both of them in the face, but I was too scared to even think about what I was doing. I just followed Dean. We tended to Mrs. Miller in silence. Suddenly Max came in and the door closed on it's own.

"Max, where's Sam?" I asked as calmly as possible.

Dean started to walk toward him, but he was thrown into the wall and fell to the ground. Max took Dean's gun.

"Max!" Mrs. Miller cried as he pointed the gun at her. "No. Max.

"Max come on, don't do this." I pleaded.

Dean started to move on him, but Max pointed the gun at him.

"Stay back. It's not about you." Max warned.

"If you wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first." Dean said.

"Dean, no…" I whispered.

"Okay." Max said. He was just about to shoot when Sam busted through the door.

"No, don't! Don't! Please." Sam begged. "Please, Max we can help you, alright? But this…What you're doing…It's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything.

Max thought it through. I was begging to relax a bit. "You're right." He said and then he… he… I've never seen anybody die before. Not like that I mean. Once I saw Dad kill a werewolf, but they die as animals first and then revert to people. I've seen lots of crime scenes with tons of dead people. It's kind of weird to think about that. All the death I've seen. But I've never seen anybody actually die.

Two weeks later

I didn't know if the supernatural world was just letting up or if Dean thought we needed a break. Either way we'd rented out a small apartment in the next town over and were looking for a new job. There was something going on with Sam and Dean. Something they weren't letting me in on. Dean had been extra observant of Sam's behavior. At first I thought it was just the nightmares, but that didn't seem like the whole truth. Since we were stationary for a bit, they enrolled me in the local high school. It wasn't bad. The food sucked, and the teachers were bizarre, but it was alright. It was nice being around and making friends with other kids my age. I'd even gotten… for lack of a better term "close" with one kid in particular. His name was Pete and he was … awesome. Since my brothers didn't even like it that I found guys on TV attractive, I didn't tell them about him.

On Saturday I told Sam and Dean I was going to the library to study. I did go there, but not to study. I met up with Pete and we went to the movies. It was so fun to just hang out with him and not worry about spells or curses or poltergeists.

"You wanna get a burger?" Pete asked after the movie.

"I can't. You know I gotta get home." I told him.

"The library doesn't close for a half an hour. You have loads of time to get home." He kissed my neck. "Come on babe."

I kissed him and I really did want to stay. "You're gonna be trouble, I can tell." I said. "I have time to get home if I go home dressed like this." I said.

"What's wrong with how you're dressed?" Pete asked.

"You think I left the house in this skirt with a belly shirt on? Not to mention the make up they don't think I own and my hair looks like I've been…"

"Making out with me?" He finished my sentence.

"Making out with you." I repeated.

"Why can't you just tell you're family about us. Tell them that you are a big girl and they need to learn to accept that."

"Why can't I do that? Hmmm. Let me think." I said as we walked to his car. "Well do you like living?" I asked him.

"Yes. I am a big fan of living." He laughed.

"As am I. And since I'm a big fan of the whole them not killing you or me thing I need to go now."

He sighed. "Alright, alright. But you can't blame me for trying."

I ran into the library with five minutes till closing, changed into my stashed "Sam and Dean" approved clothes and washed my makeup off. I checked my watch as I walked into the apartment with two minutes to spare. Damn was I good.

"Where have you been?" Dean yelled. Okay maybe I wasn't THAT good.

"The library." I said as honestly as possible.

"The library?" He asked. "That's funny, cuz Sam went over there to check on you and you were no where in sight."

"You did?" I asked Sam.

"I did." He said plainly.

"Sit." Dean ordered. I obeyed. "Where were you Rebecca?"

"I was… Well I went… I went to the movies." I said.

I tried to subtly kick my backpack under the chair I was sitting in. Dean picked it up and opened it.

"What the hell is this?" He held up my clothes.

"Um, a shirt?" I said.

"Yeah, for a toddler." He looked through the rest of the bag. "Makeup and a skirt that's what, an inch long."

"Why didn't you tell us? Why'd you lie." Sam asked. He seemed do disappointed that I couldn't lie to him.

"I didn't tell you because, it was kind of… I was on a date?"

"Excuse me?" Dean choked.

"I was on a date with um… my boyfriend."

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?" Dean asked.

"Well…" I couldn't think of anything so I said "I- I'm big girl and you need to learn to accept that." They both just looked at me like I had three heads. I knew Pete was way off with that one. "I mean… Most kids my age have gone so much farther than we have." Wow, that was not supposed to come out at all.

"How far have you gone exactly?" Talk about embarrassing.

"Dean." I sighed.

"Maybe we should have a talk." Sam offered.

"What do you think we're doing now?" Dean asked.

"No, moron. I mean maybe we should have A TALK."

"I know what a- Oh!" Dean caught on. "You mean that talk."

I knew where this was heading. "No." I said " No, no, no, no, no. I don't need that talk. I already know all that stuff. You know the birds and the bees, and the trees and the peas and all of that so… thanks but no thanks."

"What do you mean 'you know' all that stuff?" Dean asked.

"Oh my God." I said. "I'm not telling you guys about that stuff."

"But you admit there is stuff to tell?" Sam said.

"This is none of your business. So if you're gonna punish me for lying about the library do it, I'm going to my room." I was surprised that they didn't call me back over, but I wasn't stupid. I knew this was far from over.