"Alright, been cruisin some sites, I think I've found a few candidates for our next gig." Dean said as he scrolled through the list of options he had pulled up on Sam's laptop. On one of the beds, Sam sat scribbling away on a notepad he had taken from one of the previous motels they had stayed at.
Next to Dean, Claire snorted. "Rock on." She muttered.
Ignoring her, he took a noisy slurp of coffee before beginning to list off his possible candidates. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas."
As he prattled on, Claire watched the younger Winchester through narrowed eyes, evidently not paying attention to his older brother. Moving away from Dean, she slowly walked towards Sam to peek at the notepad that he was so intensely focused on. There, in bold black ink against the creamy white paper was the image of a tree. "Dean…" She called to him hesitantly.
This made Dean's head snap up to see his brother not paying attention to him. "Hey!" He called out, instantly catching Sam's attention. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"
"No, I'm listening." Sam looked back to his note pad. "Keep going."
"And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean held up three fingers. When he saw Sam not watching him however, he held up the three fingers again before waving his hand in exasperation. "Any of these things blowin up your skirt, pal?"
Sam didn't respond however, instead flipping through his notebook again. "Wait, I've seen this before." He muttered.
"Well, you drew it. I'd hope so." Claire said to herself, sitting on Dean's bed but so she wouldn't block his view to the younger man.
"Seen what?" Dean barely flinched.
Jumping up off the bed, his eyes wide in realization, Sam made a beeline for duffle containing their father's journal.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked, now a little concerned and intrigued about what was occupying his brother's mind.
Pulling the journal out, Sam threw it and the notepad onto the bed and rifled through the journal's contents before coming upon a photo of his family, whole, standing outside their Lawrence home. "Dean, I know where we have to go next." He said. Seeing where he was going with this, Claire's eyes widened.
"Where?" Dean obviously hadn't clued in yet.
"Back home." Sam clarified.
"Back to Kansas." Claire said at the same time as Sam.
This stunned Dean, making him scoff slightly. Immediately Claire could see his unwillingness to the idea. Not just because he was stubborn, because God knows he was, but there was something else, something personal. Because just for a moment, Dean looked like a child; a scared child. The look was gone though in under a second, and immediately he began playing it off. "Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"
"All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam crossed the floor to show Dean the picture he was holding. "The house where Mom died?"
"Yeah." Dean deadpanned.
"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?"
Dean's mouth moved for a moment but no words would come. "I guess so. What the hell are you talking about?"
"Okay, look." Sam sank himself into the chair across the table from Dean. "This is gonna sound crazy, but the people who live in our old house… I think they might be in danger."
"Why would you think that?"
"Uhh… Just, um- Look, just- Just trust me on this, okay?" Sam scrambled up and away.
"You're kidding right?" Claire muttered.
"Okay, whoah, whoah. Trust you?" Dean got up after him.
"Yeah." Was all Sam supplied as he began to pack his bag.
"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little more than that."
"I can't really explain it is all." Sam said in frustration.
"Well, tough. I'm not goin' anywhere until you do!"
For a moment, the boys simply stared at each other, not willing to budge on their perspective until Sam sighed, giving in.
"I have these nightmares."
"I've noticed."
"And sometimes... they come true."
At this the corner of Dean's mouth lifted in a smile as he tried to understand what his brother just told him, unsure of what to now say. "Come again?" Was all he could come up with.
"Look, Dean, I dreamt about Jessica's death... for days before it happened."
"That must have been the secret Mary used against him." Claire clued in.
"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean tried to pass it off as he sat on his bed.
"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything. And I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it, and now I'm dreaming about that tree. About our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man. This has to mean something, right?" It all came out in one rushed plea from Sam.
"I don't know." Was all Dean said before bowing his head.
"You don't- What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This- This woman might be in danger! I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica." Sam stood in front of Dean; however Dean was quick to get up and away from him.
"All right. Just slow down, would ya?" He shouted, his mind whirling. Despite chuckling, Dean looked like he was about to cry. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the shining, and then you tell me I've gotta go back home. Especially when…"
"When what?" Sam asked in exasperation.
"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there." With that he turned away.
"Look…" Sam rose to his feet. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure."
Remaining silent, Dean finally turned his head to look at his brother and nod slightly. "I know we do."
With their bags packed and ready to go, Dean threw Sam his room key. "Hey, you go check us out. I'm gonna do one last check to make sure we got everything."
Sam looked at him funny at this instruction. "Dean, I just did that. We're fine."
All Dean did was stare at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. "Y-Yeah, well, I wanna check myself before we go."
This made Sam roll his eyes and sigh. "Look, I know you don't want to go, but-"
"We have to. I know. Shut up." Dean waved him off. "I'm fine, leave me alone. I'll see you out at the car."
For the second time that day, they simply stared at each other until Sam sighed and shrugged. "All right." Was all he said before walking out the door.
Listening very intently after Sam walked out the door, Dean then straightened up once he was satisfied. "Okay, I know you got something to say." He said, before turning around. "Talk."
Sitting on Sam's bed with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, Claire stared at him evenly. "Obviously," She started. "I can't stop you from going. Neither would I. However, I am worried." She paused for a moment, gauging his reaction. It was clear by the look on his face he wanted to say something, but he was letting her have her turn to speak. This time, he was listening. "You're scared."
Like with his brother, Dean's mouth worked, but no words would come out. "Claire, he wants us to go back to the place where it all started. The place where Mom died." He said the last part brokenly.
Getting onto her feet, she crossed floor to stand in front of him. "I know how you feel sweetheart. If we had to go back to Portland, I'd feel the exact same way."
This made Dean's mouth quirk up slightly, his expression softening by a fraction. "Yeah..." He agreed.
Lifting her hands up to have her palms facing him, he held up his hands in a similar fashion in return; making it look like their hands were pressed together. "I may have not known your mother, but I know she would have wanted you to face your fears, be brave for not only your brother, but yourself as well." Looking up at him, she smiled gently but widely. "You can do this." She whispered. For a moment he smiled, however it was quick to disappear as he dropped his head and hands. Tilting her head down and to the side, she tried to get a glimpse of his face. "Dean?" She called to him gently.
Finally he slowly lifted his head to reveal red rimmed, tear filled eyes. "I wish you were still here." He admitted in a whisper.
At this her face fell. "Oh sweetheart, I'm still here." She promised.
"No." He shook his head. "I want you hear like Sam is, like I am, like everyone on the planet; physically here. I want you physically here. I want us to share a room, I want to argue over who gets to shower first, who gets to drive. I want you to be here so I can hold you, kiss you, just touch you. I want you here, I want Mom here, and I want Dad here. I just want... I just..." Here he broke off, beginning to tear up even further. Wiping his mouth, he turned away and began to pace, leaving Claire to stand there as she began to cry, watching Dean fall apart and try to pull himself back together, with her standing there helplessly.
Later in the early afternoon, the boys were pulling into Kansas, and finally, across the street of their old home. As they pulled up to the curb, both Sam and Dean eyed the house in trepidation, neither of them willing to make the first move towards what could still have been home. After Dean cut the engine, Sam looked to his big brother in concern. "You gonna be alright, man?" He asked.
It took a moment, but Dean finally turned to face Sam slightly. "Let me get back to you on that."
Not willing to wait any longer, Sam threw the car door open and scrambled out of the car, Dean quick to follow his lead.
Together the two brothers made their way across the street as fast as they dare go. Behind him as he walked, Claire whispered the same mantra over and over in his ear. "You can do this. You can do this."
Once on the porch, Sam knocked on the front door. Immediately the door was opened by a young blonde woman, making Sam speechless at her appearance.
"Yes?" She asked the two brothers.
"Sorry to bother you, mam. But, uh, we're with the federal-" Dean began their usual cover story but was interrupted by Sam snapping out of his stupor.
"I'm Sam Winchester, and… this is my brother, Dean." He introduced themselves; because if he was going to visit the childhood home he had only briefly in his life, he certainly wasn't going to visit it pretending to be someone else. "Umm… We used to live here." At his words, recognition began to creep onto the woman's face, a smile starting to form on her lips. "You know, we were- we were just driving by, and we were wonderin if we could come see the old place."
"Winchester…" The woman repeated their last name thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I-I think I found some of your photos the other night."
"Well that's incredibly convenient." Claire mumbled in surprise behind Dean, mirroring his exact thoughts.
"You did?" He asked.
Turning to look back into the house for a second, the woman then turned back to them with a smile. "Okay. Yeah, come on in." She stepped aside to let them through the door.
Looking at each other briefly, the brother walked into the now strange house that could have still been home.
Flickering lights. The supposed scurrying of rats. A figure in a child's bedroom on fire.
The descriptions immediately set off warning lights in the young hunters' heads, but they kept their cool in front of the house's new owner, Jenny, and her children Sari and Richie, until they walked out the door and towards the Impala.
"You hear that?" Sam demanded as their feet hit the front path. "A figure on fire."
"And that woman, Jenny, she was in your dreams." Dean threw back.
"Had to be. Did you see his face?" Claire pitched in.
"Yeah. And did you hear what she was talking about? Scratching. Flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit." Sam listed.
"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true." Was all Dean could say as they moved towards the Impala.
"Yeah, well forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"
"I dunno!" Dean shouted in frustration.
"I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?"
"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam. We don't know yet."
"Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house." Sam begged.
"And we will." Dean agreed, ducking around Sam to get in the car.
"No, I mean now." Sam said.
"And how are you going to do that, huh?" Dean turned back. "You got a story she'll believe?"
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asked desperately.
Standing in the middle of the street, the two of them stood looking at each other silently, Claire watching from the back seat, until Dean shook his head. "Get in the car." Was all he said before turning away.
"Dean-"
"Just get in, Sammy." He ordered.
Not a word was said as they drove through town, each lost in their own thoughts and ideas until it was when they were at a gas station filling up that Dean broke the silence.
"We just gotta chill out, that's all." His voice still held a note of panic to it as he inserted the nozzle into the car. "You know, if this was any other job, what would we do?"
Sighing, Sam thought hard, his head still spinning from what was going on. "We try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house."
"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean… How much do you actually remember?" Sam asked.
This question made Claire go rigid as she watched Dean's reaction. Years ago Dean had told her what had happened, how it all began for them; and although it had been hard for him then, he had told her regardless, trying to distract her from what had been the fresh pain of losing her own parents. So now, she watched him closely gauging his response.
Looking at Sam, Dean's face hardened ever so slightly as memories began to flash through his head. "About that night, you mean?"
"Yeah."
Dean was silent for a moment as he tried to form the words and shift through the memories. "Now much." He admitted. "I remember the fire. The heat… Then I carried you out the front door."
At this Sam looked to his big brother in surprise. "You did?"
"Yeah. Why, you never knew that?"
Sam shook his head slightly. "No."
"And, uh, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was- was on the ceiling." Dean pressed his mouth into a hard line. "Whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."
"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked, sitting on the trunk of the car.
"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean joined him.
"Okay." Sam said. "So if we're gonna figure out what's goin on now, we have to figure out what happened back then, and see if it's the same thing."
"Yeah." Dean quickly agreed. "We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."
"Does this feel like another job to you?" Sam asked.
"No. This time, it's personal." Claire answered while Dean said nothing.
"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." Was all he said, getting off the Impala and walking around the gas station building towards the washrooms. Rounding the corner, he looked back to make sure no one, other than Claire anyways, was following him. Once he deemed it to be safe, Dean took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Holding the device to his ear, he waited with bated breath until he heard the familiar voice mail instructions from his Dad. Once the beep rang, he began to talk.
"Dad… I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you get 'em… But, I'm with Sam, and we're in Lawrence, and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not… but… I don't know what to do." His voice broke. "So, whatever you're doing, if you could get here… Please. I need your help, Dad." He begged before hanging up.
"Dean…" Claire began after a moment of silence, reaching for him.
"Don't." He held up a hand, turned, and walked away two steps, tears streaming down his face and beginning to stain her own as they both stood there, for the second time that day, at a loss of what to do.
A/N: I apologize for my long absence, but I do have my reasons! This summer I worked on two short movies, one which I co-wrote and assisted directed, and another which I assisted directed once again, and even acted in as an extra. They were both extraordinary experiences, and gave me experience as to what I aim to do professionally in later years. If anyone is interested, both are horror flicks, the second film being along the supernatural genre, and I can post links once the films are released. I worked with a friend who worked on Orphan Black, and they are extraordinary and mind warping pieces.
Second, I've been preparing for my next round of actor meet and greets. This year I'll be meeting Robert Piccardo, known best for the Doctor on Star Trek Voyager, and Richard Woolsey in the Stargate Franchise; as well as Sean Patrick Flanery, who played Orlin in Stargate SG-1, and Noah in Ten Inch Hero. I'll also be meeting Max Turner, who wrote the Night Runner books, his first one which I'll be making a film trailer for, and for the Canadian readers, I'll be meeting up with my friends from Space Channel.
So, point is, I haven't been away because I'm lazy (which I am, but that wasn't why I was away. XD), I've just been busy. More to come your guys way, and thank for all your kind words, attention, and patience! Love you all!
-B
(I post spoilers and stuff pertaining to my budding film career at BadWlfATimeLrds if yall are interested. XD) 3