A loud scream rang up from the first floor, floating into my ears. I had tried to catch a few hours of sleep before Cassandra finished dinner, but no such luck.

Struggling to stand up, I took one more long glance at the bed. It was such a relief to have something to sleep in that wasn't a motel bed. I only wished I could have stayed longer.

Walking down the carpeted stairs, lightening lit up the house for a brief moment. Thunder followed a few moments later. I wondered, briefly, where Dean was. And if he was shying away from the fierce storm like myself.

Curiousity over who had let out the scream overpowering me, I continued on into the living room. Standing on one of the hardbacked couches, her eyes narrowed and in her arms, a small teddy bear, was one of Cassandra's daughters.

Upon seeing me, her eyes moved further down. From the looks of it, I supposed she was no older than six or seven.

"Hi, little girl. What's your name?" I ventured, taking a small step towards her.

The girl stepped off the couch and retreated. Every step I took, she would back up a few paces.

Eventually, I stopped and held out my arms in an act of innocence. "Were you the one who screamed?"

I thought for a moment she was going to answer me, her mouth opening a notch and her green eyes rising a bit. She tugged at her dark brown hair, which was clipped up with plastic flowers. She was a pretty girl, even at that young of an age. I knew, in about ten years, Cassandra would have her arms full with her. Especially if there were any Deans in Barbank.

"Don't be scared...I'm a nice guy. It's my brother you should be worried about," I tried once more. As the words escaped my mouth, her little feet drifted to the open door next to her, still keeping her eyes on me.

Knowing I wasn't getting anywhere fast, I pulled out the Snickers Dean had told me to hold for him. Maybe bribing would get her to talk.

"Do you want some candy?"

Her eyes narrowed again, but I knew I'd caught her attention. Opening the wrapper, I broke off a piece and placed it in my mouth.

"Mm..it's pretty good."

The feet moved closer. One tiny hand outstretched to where the food was.

"But first tell me your name."

Dropping her hand, she made a motion to walk away again. God, she was annoying. But, as I sat on the couch bribing her, it began to dawn on me that she was more like me than anything. I could picture myself doing that to do Dean fifteen years ago.

"Fine." My fingers broke a minute chunck off and held it out.

Taking it, the girl chewed slowly. Swallowing, she turned her attention to me, and said easily, "Danielle."

While I was soaking in my short victory, Danielle snatched the Snickers out of my hand and walked breezily through the door.

"Damn," I whispered. She might've had my attitude, but she most definitly had Dean's sneaky talent.

-----

Hail had begun to fall. Already there were several overturned trees lying haphazerdly across the driveway and lawn. One had landed on the pathetic swing set, causing it to be dented inwards.

I barely noticed that atall. My thoughts were on Sam and our temporary roommates. We had yet to be stuck in conditions this bad since the beginning of our trip, and I wondered if Sam was still terrified of storms. He used to be so scared of them. I remembered one, in particular. I was thirteen, him nine. Dad had found us a small apartment in a town in Iowa. It was our first night there, and I'd finally gotten my own room. I'd just fallen asleep, the rythmic patter of the rain hitting my window soothing me, when Sam sprinted into my room and unto my bed.

Angry that I'd been awakened, I shoved Sam. Still half asleep I had no idea what was happening. I just wanted to catch sleep in my new room, alone. As I slowly started to come to, my eyes focused on the little boy. He had moved out of my bed and stood by the doorframe, the light in the hall lighting him up. I could see streaks of tears on his cheeks.

I tried to apologize. Even offered to sleep in his bed duringthe next storm. But the damage was already done. Sam had never rushed to my bed at the first sounds of thunder ever again. Except one time when he was sixteen, but that was a different story.

Hearing the rain made me feel guilty. What would have happened if I hadn't accidently pushed him away. Would he still run to me for a false sense of comfort?

I shook my head. Thinking about the past wasn't good. I had to stay in the present.

I heardpots and pans being moved below me. Cassandra was preparing dinner.

At the thought of the woman, I forwned. Another disturbing thought. When the woman had stared me down back at the motel, I'd felt...weird. She made me feel oddly cold. My heart had begun to do sumersualts, and all of I sudden I began to hide everything. As if she could read them thorugh my eyes.

I made a point to figure out more about that lady during dinner, then talk it over with Sammy.

----

"Pass the rolls, please, Sam," a young, slim woman pleasently demanded, arm oustretched. Her long, thin blonde hair and fair skin had caught my attention the moment I saw her.

"Sure thing, Rosalind," I answered, placing the bowl in her hands. The food was delicious. Fried chicken, baked vegetables, rolls, even a full glass of milk was a wonderful change from fast food. Seeing Dean's stuffed cheeks, I took a guess that he, too, was enjoying the meal.

"I'm not hungry," Danielle whined from beside Dean. She was holding unto her stomach, her fork placed in her green beans.

"Did you get into the cookies before dinner?" Rosalind asked reproachfully. My eyes widened. I had completely forgotten when I'd given the girl the Snicker's bar that it would ruin her appetite.

Danielle shook her head. "No, go look in the jar."

Dean pointed to her piece of chicken. "If you're not gonna eat that, can I?"

My cheeks turned red. Dean had never been one for manners, but I figured he'd had more than that.

Danielle shook her head, giving Dean the initiative to stab the poultry with his fork. Quickly, I kicked my older sibling's shin.

"Ow!" the man yelped, showing everyone what the chicken looked like chewed up.

Cassandra chuckled.

All eyes turned to her. The woman had a gleam in her eyes. One chuckle led on to another one. Then another. Eventually, she composed herself and returned our gazes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be so loud. But, Dean, what would your mother do if she saw you right now?"

Both of us tensed up. It was always hard to talk about Mom, even if it what happenedwas twenty two years ago.

"O-Our mom passed away a long time ago. Hence my brother's lack of table manners," I said softly. I knew it was easier for me to answer questions than Dean. He had actually had a relationship with the woman.

"I'm so sorry," Rosalind cooed from her place next to me. Her eyes, just like her mother, showed a hint of liquid. "Our dad died last September. I know how hard it is to loose a parent."

"That's terrible. We're sorry, also."

Rosalind shook her head. "Don't be. Danny and I are strong. Aren't we?"

"But look on the bright side," Dean said, regaining his voice. "At least you've still got your mom here for you."

Awkardness fell upon the table. Instead of agreeing with Dean, Rosalind stood up and gathered her plates. I saw her shoot a brief glare to her mother.

But the moment was over as quickly as it began. "Yeah," the young woman plastered on a fake smile. "Yeah. We still have her." Giving one more momentary glance at me, Rosalind walked briskly out of the dinning room and into the kitchen.

Turning to Cassandra, the woman had also put on a fake smile. Suddenly I felt horribly out of place.

Breaking the silence, Danielle chirped up. "One day," she began, poking the beans, "When I own my store in New York, I'll make sure nobody fights when strangers are around."

"How about you worry about finishing the first grade, first, honey," Cassandra answered, standing up also.

"Ah, already got big dreams," I commented.

The look Cassandra shot me could've killed. "That's all they are..silly dreams."

I frowned. Could Dean possibly be right? Was Cassandra a bad person. Still too early to tell. But I didn't like her shooting down Danielle's hopes like that. It reminded me of Dad when I was growing up.

Walking into the kitchen, I made my way over to Rosalind. The girl was pretty also. Their father must have been a handsome man. It had surprised me, when those thoughts had popped into my mind. And afterwards I felt extremely guilty, like I was cheating.

"Need any help?" I asked, walking over to the sink. Rosalind was scrubbing a plate with such force I was afraid the dishware would break.

"No, I got it," she said shortly.

Gently, I took the plate from her hands. Grabbing a dish towel, I dried it off and placed it on the counter. "I'm sorry if I made you upset back there. I honestly didn't know about your father."

Rosalind stopped, putting a glass back in the soapy water. Lowering her head, then lifting to the ceiling, she slowly began to shake it. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have done what I did. But, you must know, my mother and I aren't on the best of terms."

I let out a short laugh. "I can relate. Me and my dad have been fighting since I was born."

"Yeah, well..." she stopped.

"What?"

"It's nothing. I've said too much already."

"No..go on. I promise, I'm the last person to judge you. If you saw one day of my life you'd think, 'Wow they're the most screwed up people on the planet.'"

"I don't know. It's pretty bad to hold such resentment towards one of your parents. I don't even deserve half the things I have."

"Don't say that. Besides, every kid hates their parents. It comes with the birth."

Rosalind smiled. We had finished washing the dishes, and were making our way to the hallway. "I feel more anger towards her than I should. There are so many factors, it's so hard to get over it."

"Well, if it helps you feel any better...I haven't spoken to my dad since I left for college...four years ago."

"That does help, alittle." We were climbing the steps. "Do you mind me asking why?"

I thought about lieing, but knew that she was being honest with me, I might as well return the favor. "He didn't want me to go. Wanted me to stay and, work with him. So when I actually left, he told me never to come back."

"That's horrible. But I can relate. My mom wasn't thrilled about me going, but my dad convinced her it was alright. That I would survive."

"You must really miss him."

Looking away, Rosalind said, so quietly I barely heard. "You have no idea."

------

Darkness had taken over the house quickly. The clouds forming from the rain created long shadows to befall the walls of the house. I was walking aimlessly through rooms. Sitting still just wasn't working for me. And Sam was busy talking to the oldest daughter. I debated busting their party up, but figured Sam needed the female contact. He hadn't so much as flirted with another girl since Jessica's death. And his irritability drove me out the window at times.

I tried holding a conversation with Danielle for awhile. But I was never that good with kids. She tried to get me to play in her Barbie dollhouse, but that wasn't flying with me. I made an excuse that I needed to use the bathroom and left.

Stepping into a large room set off the living room, I squinted. Candles sat on shelves, hundreds of them, it seemed. On the oppisite wall was one of those old fashioned couches, with a blanket tossed over the top. The table in front of it was covered, too, in a silk sheet with swirling blues and golds prints. Set in the center, on top of what looked like a moon, was another candle.

Connected to one of the side walls was a bookcase filled to its maximum. Reading some of the titles, my brows furrowed. "History of Physcic Connections," "You and The Other World," "Learn To Control Your Power In Ten Days."

"What the fuck?" I whispered as I read on.

Making my way to a second shelf, a voice behind me caused me to jump.

"Interesting? Isn't it? How one thinks they know someone. But people are full of surprises. Aren't they Dean?"

Cassandra stood by the door, arms folded. She was smirking.

"What is going on?" I demanded, pointing a finger to the books. "What's all this stuff?"

Cassandra let her arms drop and grabbed a chair that was in the corner, setting it on the other side of the table. I wished she would have lit some candles, the room was so dark. Only a minature chandlier on the ceiling allowed me to see.

She pointed to the chair and took a seat on the couch across from it. "Have a seat, Dean."

One part of me told my body not to. To not give her the satisfaction of doing what she wanted. But feeling my switchblade strapped around my leg convinced myself that the woman wouldn't succeed if she tried to attack.

I sat down.

"You knew something was off with me," Cassandra said smoothly. I'd never heard anyone with a voice like hers before. It reminded me of ocean waves. Beautiful, but harsh and unforgiving at times.

"You're used to searching for any flaws in people. I can tell...But you couldn't figure mine out. And it bugged you. I could see that. And I'll admit...I was amused."

"So what is your big secret?" I growled. She was still using that damn voice.

"See, I thought you'd figured it out at dinner, when I slipped."

"Well I haven't! So just get on with it!" I was becomming impatient. The lady was toying with me, and I, unfortunatly, was allowing it.

"You can't honestly tell me you don't know."

"I don't! What? Are you some physcic? Can you read minds? If so, then I'd like you to read mine right now, 'cuz that'll tell you how I REALLY feel about this!"

Cassandra chuckled, smoothing out her dress. Another flash of lightening lit the sky. It's bolt was too close for comfort. "I'm far from being a physcic."

I stood up ubrubtly. I couldn't take it any more. My anger was getting the better of me. But I was so frustrated. Storming to the door, my hand on the doorknob, Cassandra's next words stopped me dead cold.

"Dean? Have you ever wondered what Mary thinks of you? You know, how've you've turned out?"

Another lightening bolt. Immediatly following it, the power shut off and we were left in complete darkness.