Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. I only own my character Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.
"Dean … Dean."
I moaned in my sleep, turning to lie on my stomach, facing away from my brothers. Next to me, Dean stirred and sat up.
"What are you doing man, it's the middle of the night," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
I could hear Sam moving into action, flipping the light switch and gathering our stuff.
"We have to go," he urged while moving around the room and making an awful lot of noise. I grabbed the covers and put them over my head, trying to block their voices so I could go back to sleep.
"What's happening?" Dean asked, sounding alert. I never understood how he could be so awake after having only been asleep a minute ago.
"We have to go. Right now," Sam repeated impatiently.
Oh come on, couldn't he wait a couple of hours? It's not because he doesn't have the need to sleep eight hours a night like a normal human being, that we're all like him. I for one cannot function if I don't get my usual six to eight hours of sleep. My brothers and Dad are another story. But in my defense, I'm only ten (almost) and the younger you are, the more sleep you need. Maybe if I just lay quiet and pretend I'm dead, Sam will feel sorry for me and wait until morning to continue his sudden need to go on an adventure.
"You too, honey." Sam suddenly picked me up from the bed with covers and all. Whoa, he must be really in a hurry.
"Sammy," I whined sleepily, burying my head in his neck, trying to draw some warmth.
"You can sleep in the car." He patted my butt before he took some bags on his other arm. "Dean, move it," he ordered before walking out.
SPN
I was lying down in the backseat in my homemade cocoon of warm covers, wearing Sam's Stanford sweatshirt. The thing was so big on me, it looked like I was wearing a duvet. But I really couldn't complain, it was as warm as a bed. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the familiar rumble of the Impala but instead I found myself listening to Sam talking on the phone.
"McReady. Detective McReady. Badge number 158," he probably just read from his fake badge. "I've got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven." There was a short pause until he finished, "Yeah ok, just hurry."
"Sam relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare," Dean spoke up from the driver's seat.
Sam snorted, unamused. "Yeah, tell me about it." That must've been one heck of a dream.
"I mean it," Dean insisted, trying to calm our brother down. "You know, a normal-everyday-naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."
"It felt different Dean," Sam sighed. "Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house… and Jessica."
"Yeah, that makes sense," Dean scoffed. "You're dreaming about our house, your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"
"No."
"No," Dean repeated in confirmation. "Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?" he asked.
"I don't know," Sam shrugged.
"Me neither."
There was a static sound before Sam replied into the phone. "Yes I'm here." I couldn't see what happened next but it sounded like he was scribbling something down. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address? Got it. Thanks." He hung up the phone an addressed Dean. "Checks out. How far are we?"
"From Saginaw? Couple of hours."
"Drive faster," Sam ordered.
Well there goes my good night's sleep.
SPN
I sat up when the Impala came to a stop. Outside, emergency vehicles were lined up next to each other and I noticed someone on a stretcher being zipped into a body bag. I gulped. I'll never get over seeing dead bodies. I watched my brothers sharing a look.
"Emmy, you stay here in the car," Dean commanded before he put the car in park.
"What? No, I wanna come with-" I started to protest.
"Don't move." Dean pointed at me with his finger, using his that-was-an-order-voice. It reminded me so much of my Dad, I actually felt my body respond do it. On second thought, I was still in my t-shirt, shorts and socks, and by the looks of it, it looked like it was freezing outside. So maybe it was better if I stayed inside.
The car jostled a little when my brothers got out and I scooted closer to the window to have a better look at the scene. I saw Dean approaching the crowd, asking something to a woman. Sam then appeared from behind them and asked something too. I don't know what was going on but the woman suddenly started crying and moved away.
I wonder what happened and if it were the same thing Sam dreamed about. Because if that's the case, than that would be creepy and awesome … but mostly creepy. When he dreamed about Jessica's death and Jenny's family, I thought it was all a coincidence. A very weird and accidental coincidence. But this was the third time and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't starting to get worried.
My brothers started walking back to the Impala and leaned against the hood. I strained my ears to pick up what they were saying.
"Sam we got here as fast as we could." Dean said, trying to comfort Sam. Guess we were too late…
"Not fast enough," he retaliated. "It doesn't make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"
I think that's what we've all been wondering, Sammy.
"I don't know," Dean responded, sounding helpless for not having the answers.
Sam shook his head and sighed, "So what do you think killed him?"
"Maybe the guy just killed himself?" Dean suggested. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."
Oh, so it was a suicide. Again, why would Sam dream about that?
Sam shook his head. "I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something Dean. I watched it trap him in the garage." He sounded determined and when my brother was determined, there was nothing you can do to stop him. That's what happened when he went to college, he was so adamant, and look how that ended.
"What was it?" Dean pushed. "A spirit, poltergeist, what?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair, messing it all up in frustration. "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 Dean."
Dean stared at Sam for a long moment.
"What."
"Nothing," Dean shrugged. "I'm just, I'm worried about you man."
"Well, don't look at me like that!" Sam raised his voice. He was obviously on edge.
Dean looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm not looking at you like anything." He then glanced back. "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap." That was his way to make things better. Nothing says you're sorry like giving an insult. I have really weird brothers.
Sam snorted, "Nice. Thanks."
"Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning," Dean proposed, moving back to get in the car. "We'll check out the house, talk to the family."
"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us," Sam said, getting in the car.
Dean paused a moment to think as he got in the car too. "Yeah you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."
"Who?" Sam asked.
Dean simply smirked as he started up the Impala. Sam shook his head and let it go.
Wait, I wanna know! "Who?" I repeated.
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" Dean commented, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"I will if you tell me who you're talking about."
"You'll see tomorrow," Dean said.
"We're already tomorrow, it's three in the morning," I pointed out with my I'm-such-a-smart-girl-voice.
"I mean tomorrow as in when-the-sun-is-shining-tomorrow," Dean rolled his eyes. He was having way too much fun with this.
"Then I'll stay awake until the sun is up," I said with a pointed tone, crossing my arms over my chest for emphasis.
Sam chuckled and Dean grinned. "Yeah, you do that."
So they thought I couldn't do it? Well I'll show them I can. "Oh, I will."
"Go for it, sweetheart." Dean winked at me with a laugh. He was so mocking me right now. We'll see who has the last laugh.
SPN
I woke up with a groan, curling my legs to my stomach and hugging the pillow close to my face. Since when did the backseat feel so soft and warm? I opened one eye and blinked when I tried to clear my blurry vision. Last time I remembered the Impala definitely didn't have a TV. Are we in a motel again? How did I even end up in here?
"I carried you inside," a voice from across the room said. I sat up in the bed and saw Sam sitting at the table, typing away on his laptop.
"Cause you were asleep, as in not awake," Dean shouted from somewhere in the bathroom, I swear I could hear him smirk.
So obviously I didn't have the last laugh. Whatever, it's not my fault I need more sleep then them. I'm telling you, there's something wrong with their brains. No normal human being can function with less than four hours a night. Only giraffes and elephants can do that. It's true. I saw it on National Geographic.
It wasn't until Sam stood up from his chair and Dean appeared from the bathroom that I noticed what they were wearing. Oh. My. God. No way.
"You guys look like pastor Jim!" I laughed, holding onto my stomach.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Sam smiled, poking his fingers in my sides, making me laugh harder and gasp for air. Laughing on an empty stomach hurts, just so you know.
"Admit it, even as a priest I look hot," Dean boasted as he buttoned his cuffs and pulled at his collar.
I rolled my eyes. "Hot is not exactly the word I'd use," I said once I caught my breath from all the laughing. "I think funny suits you better."
Dean looked at me and gave me his signature smile that said he thought I was cute. "Funny." He then focused back on his reflection in the mirror. "This suit will make the ladies go crazy," he muttered to himself.
I noticed Sam shaking his head. "Dude, you're a priest. Stick to your role."
"Oh I'm talking after I fulfilled my role." Dean winked with a smirk.
"Aren't priest supposed to be celibate?" I wondered out loud.
Dean gave me a weird look. "How do you know what celibate means?"
"Pastor Jim told me," I shrugged. "He said, priests can't have sex because they need to stay-"
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Dean stopped me, covering his ears. "No! I don't ever want to hear that word coming out of your mouth again."
"What? Celibate?" I asked confused.
"No that other word." He rubbed his hand through his hair like he had to recover from a shock.
"Oh you mean sex-"
"Stop right there!" Dean pointed a warning finger at me. "I'm seriously gonna have a talk with that pastor. First with the whole faith thing and now with this R-rated stuff. What kinda servant of God talks about se-celibacy with a nine year old?"
"He's overreacting again," Sam mouthed to me, rolling his eyes. He then walked up to Dean and grabbed him by the shoulders. "We have an appointment father Simmons," he said, forcefully pushing Dean through the door.
"Wait, I'm not done," Dean protested, trying to get out of Sam's grip.
"Yes you are." Sam turned Dean back around and opened the door, pushing Dean out of the room. "Breakfast is on the table, honey. We'll call you in an hour," Sam said before he closed the door. I could hear Dean arguing with Sam, saying something that sounded like God should punish him for his sins!
I leaned against the headboard and let out a sigh. I envisioned my brothers in their suits and I couldn't help but giggle again. Guess I did have the last laugh.
SPN
Did I ever express my love for wooden floors? Because I absolutely loved them. I made sure to make the path from the door to the opposite wall clear. I put on my extra smooth socks and I braced myself for the ultimate slide trip. Leaning against the wall, I took a short run-up before I let myself glide against the wooden floor. "Whoa!" I cheered as my hair flew around my face. I put my hands out and softened my collision against the door.
"Careful, Emmy," Dean said as he took his duffel bag and sat down on one of the beds.
"Whatcha doing?" I asked as I moved to sit next to him.
"Cleaning guns," he answered. I watched as he unfolded the bag that contained all kinds of weapons and knives.
"Is that blood?" I cringed, pointing at the dried red substance on something that looked like a machete.
"Isn't sliding more fun than watching me cleaning guns?" Dean asked, taking a dirty rag and cleaning a black riffle.
I know he was trying to push me away. "Can I help?"
"That's sweet of you but no, I don't need help."
"Can I touch it?" I asked after watching him for a couple of minutes.
Dean sighed. "No touching, only looking." He raised an eyebrow at me in warning.
"How come I never saw you cleaning guns before?"
"Because I made sure you were asleep or not around."
"Did Dad clean guns too?"
"Yes." Dean stopped cleaning some blades and looked down at me. "Are you just gonna sit here watching me cleaning guns? Isn't there anything, I don't know, more interesting or fun to do?"
"You trying to get rid of me?" I asked, looking up at him through my long eye lashes. I made sure to use my puppy dog eyes, that always worked with Dean. Not with Sam though –can't use a creation against its own creator.
I noticed Dean trying to keep his green eyes on my blue ones, he was doing his best not to give in. I wrapped my arms around his right one, slightly leaning my head on his shoulder, never breaking eye contact. It was just a matter of time before he'd surrender. I could feel Dean taking a deep breath, keeping it in for a couple of seconds before he let out a long sigh.
"I'm gonna kill Sam," he mumbled to himself.
Mission accomplished, I mentally gave myself a high five.
"So can I keep watching?"
Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "Yes." He admitted with an exasperated tone. "But no touching, only-"
"-only looking," I finished. "I got it." I smiled with a nod, showing of my dimples.
Dean shook his head. "Your cuteness should be illegal." He suddenly grabbed me around the waist and started tickling me. I giggled trying to push him away, but to no avail.
"Sto-o-op!" I begged, laughing hard. When he finally stopped after what was a couple of minutes but felt like an hour, I had to take a minute to catch a breathe. Two laughing fits in one day are not good for my lungs … or my bladder. After I did my business in the bathroom, I decided that watching Dean cleaning guns wasn't as fun as I thought it was. Although I think he did it on purpose by slowly cleaning them and humming that awful catchy song from Motorhead. He just knew how to annoy me.
Either way, I resumed my previous game and continued sliding across the wooden floor. I was just about to collide against the door when someone decided it would be fun to open it.
"Ouch!"
I didn't know if I should rub my forehead or my butt or both of them.
"Emmy? What are you doing?" Sam asked worriedly as he crouched to my level.
What am I doing? "What are you doing?" I shot back, wincing as he touched my forehead.
"What do you mean, I was opening the door." He helped me stand up and lifted me up in his arms.
"Didn't I tell you to be careful, sweetheart?" Dean piped up from where he was still cleaning his guns.
I ignored him and scowled at Sam. "Since when did you stop knocking?"
Sam frowned in confusion and placed me on his bed so I was standing. He was still taller than me though. "Uh, I never knock," he pointed out. True. But that still didn't mean he shouldn't have. "Let me see." He brushed my hair away from my face and stroked my forehead. "Nothing some ice wouldn't fix," he said kissing my forehead. "Does anything else hurt?"
"Well my butt hurts too, cuz you pushed me to the floor," I emphasized the last words to remind him.
"Want me to put some ice on your butt too?" he asked.
"No!" I slapped his chest, my cheeks warming up in embarrassment. Sam just laughed while Dean chuckled. "Shuddup," I muttered, flopping down on the bed and turning on the television.
"So what do you have?" Dean asked as Sam put some files on the wall.
Sam sighed. "A whole lot of nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."
"What about the land?" Dean wondered, not looking up from the gun in his hand.
Sam perched himself on the bed next to me. "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, sulfur scent. Nada."
"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam asked.
"Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the infra-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing," Dean said as he skilfully put the gun together.
"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?" Sam cocked an eyebrow in question.
"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."
"Yeah." Sam rubbed his temples. "Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house." I looked up at him when he took a deep breath, holding his head. I frowned, what was wrong with him? "Maybe it's just...Gosh," he groaned holding his hand to his forehead, "… maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"
I shared a concerned look with Dean. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.
Sam suddenly started making anguished noises as if someone was slowly killing him inside. I jumped out of bed just as he fell to his knees on the floor.
"Sammy!" I looked up at Dean worriedly who ran to our side. "Dean?" I called for my brother, urging him to do something.
"Ahh. My head," Sam groaned, his voice laced with pain.
"Sam? Hey." Dean grabbed his arms and shook him slightly. "Hey! What's going on? Talk to me."
Sam stared at Dean with a far looking gaze, as if he was seeing something we didn't. I felt tears forming in my eyes and I nervously bit my bottom lip in worry. I jumped when Sam suddenly gasped loudly.
"It's happening again," he urged, grabbing on Dean's hands on his arms. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."
Can somebody tell me what in the world was going on?
SPN
I sat between my brothers in the front, nervously biting on my nails. I listened attentively to Sam as he talked on the phone. I was so confused right now. What was happening and when are we going to talk about those so called visions of my brother. I mean why isn't anybody freaking out? Having nightmares about horrible stuff that happened in reality was already worrisome and not to mention creepy. But now he was having them while he was awake? That's just beyond creepy, it's horrifying!
"Roger Miller. Ah no no, just the address please," Sam talked softly through the phone, holding his head with his other hand. "Ok, thanks," he finished the call and addressed Dean, "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120."
Dean nodded, pursing his lips in thought. "You ok?"
"Yeah," Sam answered offhandedly.
Dean eyed him cautiously. "If you're gonna hurl I'll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery..."
"I'm fine," Sam cut him off, annoyed.
"Alright."
Sam looked at Dean and sighed heavily. "Just drive," he said before looking away.
Things were silent between us except for the familiar, soothing rumble of the Impala. I bet things weren't that silent in my brothers' heads. The tension was so thick, I think a knife wouldn't suffice to cut through it. I looked up when I felt someone's hand gently pull my fingers away from my mouth. Sam took my hand in his and rubbed my knuckles with his thumb.
"I'm scared," I mumbled.
Dean squeezed my knee while Sam wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer against him. I felt his lips on top of my head. "Me too," he muttered against my hair. He then looked at Dean. "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 alright. It'll be fine," Dean tried to comfort, but it was obvious he was sugarcoating the situation.
"What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die?" Sam asked exasperatedly. "Why the hell is this happening to me?" he whispered more to himself.
"I don't know Sam but we'll figure it out. We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing." It was obvious that Dean took his role as a big brother serious. He always thought it was his job to protect us, to be there for us and to be strong. I wished that Dad was here, he would know what to do … I think. Lately my faith in him is slowly fading.
"No," Sam shook his head. "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."
"It freaks me out," I whispered quietely, not wanting my brother to hear but a part of me wanted him to know he wasn't the only one freaking out about this. Sam's hold on my waist tightened a little in response.
I looked at Dean who was staring straight ahead for a long moment. "This doesn't freak me out," he finally replied. Sam and I stared at him, obviously seeing through his words but neither of us felt like pointing that out.
SPN
When the Impala pulled up at an apartment building, we noticed a guy approaching the entrance with a bag of groceries. Sam pulled down the window and shouted. "Hey Roger!"
So that was Roger. The man gave my brothers a look that clearly said he wasn't happy to see them. "What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone."
"Please!" Sam tried but the man left. Dean gunned the engine, jumping the curb as he hurriedly parked.
I watched as Sam got out and ran, trying to hold up Roger at the entrance.
"Let's go, Emmy," Dean said from beside me. I looked at him with confusion. "I'm not gonna leave you in a place where a man's about to commit suicide. It's freaky enough Sam saw it and if it's actually happening then I have no idea what we're dealing with," he explained quickly while he pulled me out of the car.
"We're not priests, you gotta listen to us!" Sam called after Roger.
"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean yelled as we reached the door but the man ignored the warnings and left.
"Come on." Dean looked around before he hurriedly guided us away. "Come on, come on."
We ran around the corner to the back entrance but it was securely locked. Dean quickly looked around, released my hand momentarily and kicked it open. He took my hand again and pulled me up as we ran up the stairs on the first level of the fire escape. When we arrived at what I thought was Roger's apartment, I could hear a window slide down and a wet squelching noise.
Sam froze next to me while Dean sprinted past him and grabbed the railing. Since my hand was still in Dean's, I followed suit. Though I wished I didn't. Dean quickly pulled me away, trying to shield me from the gruesome sight but it was already too late.
I think I'm gonna puke.
I felt Dean picking me up with one arm as he pushed my head against his shoulder. "Don't look, sweetheart." I fisted his jacket, pinching my eyes closed while trying to get rid of the image of the blood and Roger's head…
Dean jostled me a little as he pulled something from his pocket. "Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!" he urged. He then opened the window to the apartment. "I'm gonna take a look inside," he said as he carefully passed me over to Sam. "Take her downstairs, I'll me meet you outside."
SPN
"You okay, honey?" Sam asked. He was leaning against a wall while I was still in his arms with my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life.
"No," I answered so softly I wasn't sure if he even heard me.
"You weren't supposed to see that." Sam ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry," he apologized.
"Not your fault," I mumbled. To think I saw dead people on TV all the time and I never gave it a second thought, but now? I could already see the nightmares impatiently waiting to disturb my sleep.
I heard footsteps coming our way and by the heavy sound of boots I knew it was Dean. "How's she doing." Was the first thing he asked. I felt his hand on my back.
"Still upset but mostly in shock I think," Sam replied.
I lifted my head slightly from Sam's shoulder and wiped away a tear. I was okay, I just needed a little bit time to recover. Dean gave me a pained look and I knew he was beating himself about it again. He always felt responsible for everything where Sam and I were concerned. I reached my hand out to him, silently telling him I was gonna be okay and that it wasn't his fault either. Dean took my hand and placed a kiss on top of it.
Sam started walking, with Dean next to us, his hand still firmly holding mine. "So what did you find?"
"Nothing. No signs either, just like the Miller's house," Dean answered.
"I saw something, in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was-" Sam paused, looking for the right words "-something was stalking Roger."
"Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?"
Sam shook his head. "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."
"Angiak. Banshees," Sam listed off.
"Basically like a curse," Dean nodded. "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," Sam resumed. When we finally reached the car, Sam carefully placed me inside before he did the same. Without asking, Dean took my hand back in his. My lips twitched in a smile as I was grateful for his support. He always knew exactly what I needed.
When everyone was seated, Sam asked, "Hey you think Max is in danger?"
"Let's figure it out before he is."
"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people," Sam concluded.
"What's that?" Dean questioned and I found myself looking up at him in curiosity.
"Both our families are cursed."
"Our family's not cursed!" Dean huffed in protest. "We just...had our dark spots."
"Our dark spots are...pretty dark," Sam commented.
"You're...dark," Dean shot back.
I couldn't help but look at him with a raised eyebrow. "That was a weak come back."
SPN
I yawned as I played with my Nintendo in the back of the car. I was so tired, images of Roger's head kept flashing in front of my eyes every time I closed them. Dean even tried to stay up for me while I slept but that didn't help, not even when he hummed Hey, Jude. I wished I just had my Dad here. He was my knight in shining armor, he could beat those ugly nightmares away.
I looked up when I noticed my brothers in their priests outfits emerging Max's house. Poor kid must be broken about his uncle's death, as if losing his father wasn't hard enough. I can't even imagine losing my Dad… I think I can bear not seeing him, knowing he's alive even if we didn't have any contact. But dealing with him being gone, as in 'he'll never come back' – God, just the thought alone was enough to set me off in tears.
My brothers walked to stand beside the Impala. I could faintly hear their conversation.
"No one's family is totally normal and happy. See when he was talking about his old house?" Dean said as he fiddled with his collar.
"He sounded scared," Sam nodded.
"Yeah Max isn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers," Dean decided, getting rid of the tie before he got in the car together with Sam.
"Dean, I'm hungry," I said, covering my mouth when I yawned again.
"And tired," Dean noticed, giving me sad knowing look.
"I say, we make a quick stop at the motel, change our clothes and get something to eat before we continue our research," Sam suggested, ruffling my hair.
"Any plan containing food, sounds good to me," Dean grinned, shooting a wink at me, making me shake my head with a smile.
SPN
I skipped next to Sam as we walked up to a middle aged man with a hat, dressed in layers of plaid. He kinda reminded me of Bobby. We stood on the sidewalk in front of the man's front yard as my brothers asked him questions.
"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam began.
"Yeah, almost 20 years now," the man nodded. "It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?"
Sam shook his head. "No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe."
"Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max," Dean chimed in from behind me.
"Right," Sam confirmed.
"Yeah I remember…" the man trailed off, a pensive expression on his face. "The brother had the place next door. So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?"
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, sharing a look with Dean.
"Well in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of," the man explained with disgust and compassion.
I bit my lip, feeling bad about that Max guy. I wonder if he was happy his father died. I can't imagine our father ever touching us in that way. Don't get me wrong, my Dad has a temper but he mostly attacks verbally. And even then, my brothers always made sure to take me away from him whenever he gets like that. Dean always took me for a ride in the Impala until our Dad calmed down. But other than the verbal assault, my Dad never once hurt me in any way. He once told me that he couldn't stand seeing me hurt or be mad at me like he was at my brothers, because he always saw my mother whenever he looked me in the eyes. I don't know if that made me the lucky one, because I still don't think it's fair how he blows off steam on my brothers. They didn't deserve it as much as I did.
"This was going on regularly?" Sam asked.
"Practically every day." The man shook his head in resentment. "In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good."
That ws just cruel.
"Now you said step-mother," Dean pointed out.
"I think his real mother died. Some sort of ... accident. Car accident I think." The man nodded. His attention then focused on something behind me. "Are you ok there?"
I looked up and noticed Sam had his hand to his head, a grimace on his face. Oh no, not again. I shot a worried look at Dean.
"Uh, yeah," Sam winced.
Dean held an arm out toward Sam. "Thanks for your time." He shot a quick smile to the man who watched our brother with a concerned look.
Sam lifted his hands to his head. "Yeah, thank you." He nodded offhandedly.
I sent a look at the man when I felt a hand on my arm pulling me away. I turned and walked next to Dean who supported Sam.
"God," Sam groaned. He looked up and I noticed how his eyes glazed over like that time in the motel. It was like he was seeing something we didn't. I'm guessing he was having one of his episodes again.
"Dean?" I whimpered. I hated when this happened. It was so disconcerting and just plain scary. I mean seriously, what the heck?!
"It's okay, Emmy," Dean comforted me, rubbing my arm as he pulled me against his side. He then snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face. "Sam." But Sam kept staring up, he was so out of it. Dean snapped his fingers again. "Hey, Sam!"
Sam then suddenly gasped, coming out of his trance.
SPN
"Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing," Sam broke the tense silence in the car. I was in the back as usual, staring at the back of his head. Something was wrong with my brother, I'm telling you.
"You sure about this?" Dean asked, shooting a sideway glance.
"Yeah, I saw him," Sam sounded determined. If it weren't for all those nightmares or visions or whatever that came true, I'd say it was just a coincidence. But lately everything he saw in his mind happens.
"How's he pulling it off?" Dean wondered out loud.
"I don't know, like telekinesis?" Sam shrugged.
"What so he's psychic, a spoon bender?" Dean's skepticism practically dripped from his tone.
"I didn't even realize it but this whole time he was there. He was outside 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!" Sam said, connecting the dots. "The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess, because we're so alike?"
I frowned. "Max is nothing like you, Sammy. Why are you even saying that?"
"Yeah, the dude's nothing like you," Dean agreed.
"Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both..." Sam trailed.
"Both what?" Dean pushed. "Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third." I knew Dean tried to support Sam through it all, but now he was obviously fed up with it. Sam needed to know that he was nowhere near like Max.
"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," Sam discussed.
"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" Dean shot back angrily.
I understand that what Max' family did to him doesn't justify his actions, but then again I also see Sam's point. What's the whole purpose of our family hunting? Exactly, it's revenge. And what Max did was also an act of revenge. Maybe Sam's right, maybe he isn't that different from Max …
"Dean..." Sam began.
Dean pulled over at Max's house. "He's no different from anything else we've hunted, alright? We gotta end him."
Sam gave him a look full of disbelief. "We're not going to kill Max."
"Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind'," Dean mocked.
Sam shook his head. "No way. Forget it."
Dean turned off the engine. "Sam..."
"Dean," Sam cut him off. "He's a person. We can talk to him," he tried. "Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."
After a long pause, Dean wetted his lips and nodded. "Alright fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else." He then turned in his seat and looked at me. "You're coming with me, I'm not leaving you here unprotected."
"Dean I don't think that's-" Sam started.
Dean cut him off by removing his Taurus pistol from the glove compartment. He glared at Sam, daring him to say anything else. I looked between them, not knowing what to say. Dean got out and opened the door on my side. I hesitantly got out of the Impala. I was having such a bad feeling about everything.
SPN
Dean pushed me behind him as he and Sam burst through the front door. I followed them inside, making sure to stay close to my brothers. I noticed a blonde woman and a young guy standing in front of us.
"Fathers?" the woman, who I thought was the stepmother, asked. She sent me a confused look.
"What are you doing here?" Max wondered. I couldn't help but notice how pale and troubled he looked. He looked down at me and gave me a look I couldn't quiet read. "Who's she?"
"Ahh, sorry to interrupt," Dean apologized flimsy. He then pulled me closer in between him and Sam by wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "This is uh, our baby sister."
"Your baby sist-" Max started with disbelief but Sam interrupted him.
"Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?"
Max send us a suspicious look. "About what?"
"It's...it's private." Sam shared a look with the woman. "I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it." He then addressed Mrs. Miller, "We won't be long at all though, I promise."
Max looked at his stepmother, then back. "Ok."
"Great," Sam nodded.
My brothers turn for the door, Max following. Sam pushed me in front of them. As Dean grasped the doorknob, he momentarily turned back and smiled at Max. Suddenly the door handle is pulled from my brother's hand and I gasped when I felt a hand on my chest pulling me back just as the door slammed shut. I turned around in Sam's hold and looked as the wooden window blinds all around the room shut too.
"You're not priests!" Max accused, backing away from us.
Dean drew his gun and Sam pushed me behind him. I took a hold of his jacked and looked how Max used his power to pull it away, sliding it across the floor to where he could pick it up. I hid back behind Sam when he held the gun on my brothers. Dean automatically moved next to Sam, forming a sort of a shield in front of me.
"Max, what's happening?" I could hear Mrs. Miller saying.
"Shut up," Max spat.
"What are you doing?" she asked worriedly.
Through the small gap between my brothers, I could see how Max flung Mrs. Miller backwards. She hit her head on the kitchen counter and fell to the ground unconscious.
"I said shut up!" Max yelled, making me whimper even though I tried to stifle it by biting my lips.
"Max calm down." Sam shot his hands out in calming way.
"Who are you?" he demanded, pointing his gun at my brothers. I didn't know about Sam and Dean, but I was freaking out. I could practically hear my heartbeat in my ears. My brothers looked so calm though, as if they've gone through this so many times. And I was standing here shaking like a leaf.
"We just wanna talk," Sam said in a soothing voice.
"Yeah right, that's why you bought this!" he retorted, referring to the gun.
"That was a mistake alright?" Sam sent a look at Dean that said told you so. "So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out."
"About what?" he asked.
"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened," Sam said slowly, as if he was making sure Max was getting what he was saying.
Max frowned, confused. "What?"
"I'm having visions Max," Sam confessed. He then licked his lips, hesitating on his next words. "About you."
Max looked at Sam for a couple seconds, trying to make out if my brother had lost his mind or if he was telling the truth. He then scoffed with a nervous laugh. "You're crazy."
"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam shot back, tapping his eye. "Right here." That shut Max up in an instant as he looked at my brother with disbelief. "Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here alright? I think I'm here to help you."
Max started shaking and I was begging God for him to let that gun go. His face then crumbled as he started crying. "No one can help me." I swallowed past a lump, I felt so bad for him but at the same time I was frightened.
"Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you," Sam tried to make a deal. "We'll get Dean, my sister and even Alice out of here."
Dean gave Sam a defensive look. "Uh-huh. No way."
"Nobody leaves this house!" Max yelled.
I tightened my hold on Sam's jacket as the chandeliers began to shake.
"And nobody has to, alright?" Sam quickly calmed him down. "They'll just...they'll just go upstairs."
"Sam I'm not leaving you alone with him," Dean said through gritted teeth.
"Yes you are," Sam shot back with determination before he addressed Max. "Look, Max. You're in charge here, alright, we all know that. No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here man."
"Sam!" Dean protested but Sam ignored him.
Max looked back at his unconscious stepmother. "Five minutes?" I looked up as the chandeliers stopped shaking. "Go."
Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. He made sure I was in a safe distance away from Max. We walked up to Mrs. Miller and Dean crouched, picking her up. "Stay in front of me, Emmy."
I didn't discuss him and quickly moved to the stairs, constantly checking if he was behind me.
SPN
I sat down on the bed, my knees tucked against my chest. I held my hands tightly, I just couldn't stop them from shaking. There was a pit in my stomach, signaling me something was wrong or something was about to happen. I let out a shaky breath and watched as Dean took care of Alice's bleeding forehead. I didn't know how long it had been since was conscious again, nor did I know how long we'd been sitting here.
I only wanted to know how Sam was doing downstairs…
I felt the bed dip as Dean sat beside me. He wordlessly took me in his lap, wrapping me in his arms. I buried my head in his warm neck, breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of gunpowder, leather and smoke. I closed my eyes, trying to block everything so I could just focus on my brother, my safe cocoon, my home.
Dean stroked my hair and back, occasionally dropping a kiss on my head. He was humming again and I relished the touch of his rumbling chest against mine. It was helping, I was getting calmer and my fingers slowly started to stop shaking. I let out a shaky breath, trying to get my erratic heartbeat in check.
I tensed when I suddenly heard the muffled sounds of footsteps on the stairs. "Shh, it's okay, baby," Dean whispered to me as he gently sat me back down on the bed.
The door creaked open on its own and Max walked in. My thoughts instantly went to Sam. Was he okay? Where was he? What did Max do to him?
Dean got to his feet and moved purposefully towards Max as the door closed behind him. With just his mind, Max sent my brother flying and crashing against the wall.
"Dean!" I cried at the same time Mrs. Miller cried, "Max!".
I crawled to Dean but he pulled up his hand, stopping me. "Emmy stay there!" I followed his fearful eyes and noticed Max raising Dean's pistol, his hand shaking. "Son of a..." Dean cursed. He slowly stood up, beginning to walk toward Max. He then stopped when Max let go of the gun, leaving it floating in midair. It cocked, then turned to point at Mrs. Miller who was standing next to me.
Dean immediately stepped in the way. He wrapped one arm around my waist, pressing me against his back before he moved in front of Alice.
"Stay back," Max warned. "This is not about you."
"You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first," Dean said with a stone cold glare, staying calm even though a gun was pointed right in his face. What was he doing? Where is Sam!
Max's nostrils flared. "Ok."
"NO!" I tried to move away from Dean's grasp but he wouldn't budge. I pinched my eyes closed, a sob escaping my lips as I waited for the gunshot. Instead I heard the door bursting open.
"No don't! Don't! Please. Please. Max," Sam's voice begged. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I was trembling so hard right now, I was sure I'd fall apart if it weren't for Dean holding me up. "Max. We can help you. Alright. But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything."
Max was a mess, he was shaking and sweating with tears flowing down his cheeks. He stared at Sam in anguish. I frowned when he suddenly relaxed, his face cleared. "You're right," he said softly.
Sam visibly relaxed, half smiling at him in relief. But then Max turned away from him as the gun swung to point at Max, shooting himself in the head.
"NO!" Sam yelled.
SPN
I was silent as I let my brothers drag me to the car. I still couldn't believe what I just saw. As if seeing Roger's decapitated head wasn't enough, I also had to witness a suicide. I don't know if I was still in shock, it was more like I was waiting this nightmare to end, hoping that I'd wake up any second.
"If I'd just said something else. Gotten through to him somehow," Sam mumbled, blaming himself like always.
Dean groaned. "Ah, don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone," Dean said.
"When I think about how he looked at me man, right before. I should've done something," Sam continued beating himself about it.
Dean sighed. "Come on man, you risked your life. I mean yeah, maybe if we had gotten there 20 years earlier."
When we reached the Impala, Sam opened his side of the door, helping me in. I didn't say anything and got in the car. I was so tired, emotionally and physically. I just wanted to get in bed or the backseat of the Impala.
"Well I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad," Sam said as he watched me with a sad look. I knew that look, the look that said he was feeling sorry and he wished he could turn back time and avoid everything from happening.
Dean looked astounded and pleased at the same time. "Well I never thought I'd hear you say that."
Sam reached out to stroke my hair. "Well, it could've gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him."
Dean turned back to look at the Miller's house. "All things considered," he repeated, turning to give me a sad look too. I wouldn't say I wished he never dragged me in there with them, I just wished that things would've ended differently. It wasn't Dean's or Sam's fault I witnessed what happened, they need to stop taking the blame. I'll get over it … eventually. I've done it before with the whole discovery of the family business, I could do it again, I could take it.
SPN
Back at the motel, I silently helped Dean folding the clothes as he put them in our duffel bags. I caught him sending me worried looks now and then. I knew he was concerned and I knew he wanted me to talk to him but he also knew not to push me. Whenever I'm upset or in shock I shut down. And time was the only healing. But when it comes to waiting, Dean has no patience whatsoever.
I watched as Sam pulled the bags in the Impala's trunk. I still didn't know how to feel about his gift … or curse. I felt like he wasn't the old Sam. The one that used to read me stories about the American history right before I went to sleep. The one that never let me put ketchup on my fries by myself because he said I put way too much and it was unhealthy. The one that didn't let me watch SpongeBob, saying it was making me dumb, instead he made me watch National Geographic. The one that I hated sleeping next to, because he always used me as a blanket.
I missed that brother.
Now I see a Sam who's back in the business for revenge. He has hardened, became stronger and more mature. I mean for Christ sake, he has visions. My brother is a freaking psychic!
"Dean I've been thinking."
"Well that's never a good thing." Dean slyly winked at me but I didn't crack a smile.
Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?"
"I have no idea," Dean sighed, putting the last cloth in the duffel.
"Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?" Sam wondered. What was he even implying.
Dean found an open pack of M&M's. He opened the bag and popped a couple in his mouth before he offered me some. "Why would you think that?" he asked with a full mouth.
"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason," Sam said carefully.
"Sam." Dean turned to face Sam. "If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Ok? This is not your fault, it's not about you."
"Then what is it about?" Sam pushed. Why wouldn't he just let it go?
"It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all," Dean said with finality in his voice.
"Actually there's uh ... there's something else too," Sam hesitated and scratched the back of his head.
Dean huffed, throwing his head back in exasperation. "Ah jeez what."
"When Max left me in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door, ..." Sam paused for a second. "I moved it."
Say what?
"Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for," Dean joked, taking another M&M.
"No man, I moved it. Like, Max," Sam punctuated his words slowly.
I stopped munching on my M&M's and eyes Sam, waiting for him to get to the punch line, only it never came.
Dean paused gathering his clothes and stood still. "Oh." Tense silence. "Right," he said softly.
"Yeah."
Dean then picked up a spoon. "Bend this."
Sam got frustrated. "I can't just turn it on and off Dean."
"Well how'd you do it?" Dean's smirk left his face.
"I don't know, I can't control it." Sam let out a heavy sigh. "I just ... I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like ... a freak adrenaline thing."
"Yeah well I'm sure it won't happen again," Dean said very casually. And that's when I knew that Dean was probably more worried about this then Sam was.
"Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?"
"Nope. No way." Dean shook his head. I could just see past that fake façade of his. "You know why?"
"No. Why?"
"Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have," Dean smirked.
"Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean." Sam raised an eyebrow.
"No. Me," he grinned. "As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you. And neither to you, cutie pie." He briefly touched my cheek.
Sam cracked a tiny smile, shaking his head. He slung a bag over his shoulder and moved towards the door. "You coming?"
"Uh yeah, we'll be there in a minute." Dean waved him off. I watched their exchange and I knew I couldn't stall it anymore. The door closed with a soft click and I braced myself.
"Look sweetheart-"
"I don't wanna talk about it," I cut him off. I decided to fiddle with my shoestrings, anything but look at him.
Dean sighed as he crouched in front of me. "Look at me, Emmy."
I ignored him and focused on the laces of my pink chucks until Dean's hand took mine, stopping me. With his other hand he cupped my chin and tilted my head until I was looking at his green eyes.
"Talk to me," he ordered with a soft voice he only reserved for me.
"I don't know what to say," I muttered.
Dean released my chin and placed both his hands on either side of my waist so I was trapped in his hold. "Can you tell me how you feel?"
I took a minute to think. "Scared, confused, … angry."
"Who are you angry at? Max? Sam? Me?" Dean pushed gently.
"I guess I'm a little mad at all of you," I mumbled, not wavering my gaze from his amulet.
"Listen, Emmy-"
But I didn't listen, instead I cut him off. "Why did Max's uncle and father hurt him? And why did Mrs. Miller do nothing about it? What did Max ever do to his family for them to hate him like that? How come he's even telekinesis? And what's with Sam's visions? Why is he having them now? Why him? Is he going to be like Max? Why are all these people dying? And why would you risk your own life in order to save Mrs. Miller's? Why do you always have to sacrifice your life for others?"
I don't know what was happening. I was just voicing my thoughts and next thing I know, I couldn't stop anymore. I was blabbering through my tears and sobs. It would surprise me if Dean even understood what I was saying.
I found myself bawling my eyes out on his shoulder. He held me tight against him, gently rocking me back and forth. My entire body was shaking with every sob and no matter what I tried, I couldn't stop them. I had been bottling this up for way too long and now I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Dean crooned, his hands rubbing my back as he placed soft kisses on the side of my face. "Let it all out, baby," he whispered, running his fingers through my hair.
"I w-want Dadd-y," I sobbed. "I-I-I miss him so-o much."
"I know, sweetheart, I know." Dean patted my back, still rocking me back and forth. He pulled away a little so he could see my face and cupped my right cheek, wiping away some tears. "You know you'll always have me, right? I'm not going anywhere, Emmy. Not without you," he said kissing my cheek.
"P-promise."
"I promise." He kissed my other cheek before hugging me close to him again. He pressed his lips closer to my ear and whispered, "I love you."
Three words my brothers almost never say out loud, especially Dean. He was the kind of guy that preferred showing his love instead of saying it. For him to tell me those words, meant the world to me.
"L-love you to-o."
A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait, life's hectic... So I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I don't know what to think of it really, I feel like I missed something. Anyway, let me know, you know I'm addicted to reviews ;)
Also, for those who are interested, I posted a new side story to Be(lie)ve, it's called Reminiscence. It'll be mostly one shots about Emmy and the rest of the Winchester family. So go check it out if you want!
Next chapter: The Benders - Do you guys want Emmy to be kidnapped along with Sam or do you want her to stay with Dean?
Big fat thank you to everyone who has stuck with me throughout this story! I hope you're still enjoying it as much as I do :) Don't forget me to send me your love XXX!