Dean sat in his old room's bed. Man, he hated this place. He put down the phone book he had been searching through and sighed in frustration. He had read the white pages back and forth three times and couldn't find any Missouris.
He didn't really know what he expected to find from this Missouri person. Maybe they could tell him what was his father so upset about, or maybe he just wanted someone to state that his father had been upset when he got home, so he had more in court to prove he had attacked his brother than just his word. He had to make him seem a like a violent man in the courtroom. He was a violent man, but there were no police reports, no neighbors to corroborate that.
He had made sure of it himself since he was little. He didn't want his brother to be taken away from him. He was very careful no one ever knew what happened inside the house. Not his teachers, not his neighbors, not his friends, not anyone.
Suddenly, Dean had an idea. What if his father didn't know Missouri before that night?. That meant he had either been told by a friend about him/her, or he had seen some sort of advertising pointing it to them. He took the giant book back and started flipping through the yellow pages. He almost didn't see the small square frame at the bottom of one of the pages. It was very discreet, Dean wondered if Missouri didn't have enough money to put on a big ad or he/she just didn't want that many customers.
Dean read the top of the page to see what kind of service he was seeing and a surprised look covered his face when he did. "Psychics?" He scoffed. "Why would dad go to a psychic?" The ad had no phone number, just an address. Dean got up and took the jacket he had borrowed from Sam's room. He left the house holding a yellow paper sheet crumpled in his hand.
Dean stopped in front of a warm, inviting looking house. He straightened out the crumpled piece of paper to read the address again and, after confirming this was the right place, he got out of the car and walked the few steps up to the door. He was about to knock when the door opened. A short, black woman stood in the doorway, looking at him.
"Hi, " Dean started. "I'm..."
"I know who you are Dean." She cut him off, smiling at his widening eyes. "I was expecting you. Please, come in." She stepped aside to let him in, and he complied.
Missouri led him to a little living room. He was distracted looking around at the weird things laid around the room, and got his head caught in the web like design the tied strings with wooden counts hanging from the door way made.
He got free from the web's evil grip and glared back at it before turning to see Missouri sitting in an armchair in front of the little coffee table in the center of the room. There was a couch next to the table and Dean sat down. He stared at her in silence for a moment, wondering what should he ask her. 'Hey, did you do something to piss my dad off two days ago and sent him home to beat his 17 year old son?.' No, that didn't sound appropriate. Missouri cleared his throat before speaking.
"Your dad was a very angry, very sad man, honey." She said. He opened his mouth to say something but she spoke again. "He suffered a terrible loss, and he couldn't understand why." She continued. "He came to me four days ago. He had been thinking about your mother's death a lot lately." She sighed. "He told me he knew her death wasn't an accident, and took me to your house while Sam was with you in California." She paused for a moment.
Dean stared at her. "Who are you?." He asked after a moment. She looked at him, surprised she hadn't seen that coming.
"Oh, where are my manners, I'm sorry. My name is Missouri Mosely." She introduced herself. "Can I get you anything? Would you like some coffee, dear?." She asked.
"Yeah, some coffee would be nice, thanks." Missouri got up and left Dean alone in the room to sort out his thoughts. This woman knew who he was but he had never seen her before in his life. She knew about his mother's death. Would his father just come to a stranger and spill his guts like that?.
He had been told his mother died in a fire, an accident. But he knew otherwise. Though he was only four years old at the time, he could still see the image of his mother on the ceiling if he closed his eyes. He had tried to attribute it to his childish imagination, but the image was too clear to have been imagined.
Missouri entered the room carrying a tray with two cups of coffee. She set it in the table and sat down. Dean reached for one of the cups and took a sip.
"So, " Dean began. "Missouri. What is it exactly you do?" He asked, trying to understand what his father could have wanted from her.
"Well, what did the yellow pages say, boy?" She asked amused. "I'm a psychic. I'll read your palm and tell you your future." She said.
"Really?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Of course not, honey." She laughed. "Things don't work that way." She took a sip of her coffee and continued. "I catch some of people's thoughts. I sense energies. That sort of thing. Your father came to me because he wanted to know what took your mother." She was serious now.
"And could you?" Dean asked her. "Tell her what took our mother?" He completed.
"No." She sighed. "It was too long ago to tell." She explained. "There were some remnants of it in the house, even after all this years, but not enough to be sure what it was." Dean sighed too. He didn't know what he expected to hear. Maybe he just wanted a 'why'. Like his father had.
"I did, however, find another interesting kind of energy in your house." She added, and Dean looked up.
"What?." He asked.
"Your brother's." She answered. "That boy is very gifted. His presence, his energy, could be felt in his room even though he wasn't there." She added.
Dean looked at her, surprised. Sam had been telling the truth about his 'freaky mind powers'. And this woman knew about them.
"The thing that killed your mother, honey, it was after your brother." Missouri said. Dean opened his mouth and closed it several times. Now things made sense. He tried to control his anger as he talked.
"And that his what you told my dad." He stated. Glaring at her.
"I'm so sorry about your dad, honey." Missouri apologized. "I didn't know he would react like that." Dean scoffed.
"I thought you were supposed to be a psychic." He said. Missouri didn't like his tone, but she understood.
"It doesn't work like that, dear." She defended. "I couldn't have known your dad would do what he did, because he didn't know what he would do." She explained. Dean turned away, he was still angry, but it made sense. "I just wanted him to know that his wife died to save something very precious. Something she didn't mind dying to protect." Missouri smiled.
Dean lifted his head and looked at his watch. He had a little more than 24 hours before Sam's hearing. He stood up.
"Well, this has been very enlightening." He said, in a sarcastic manner. "I'd like to stay and chat, but I have a lot to do." Missouri nodded.
"Of course you do, honey." She said. "Don't worry. Your brother will be fine." She said has she walked him to the door.
"Thanks." He said. He didn't like the revelations he had just heard, he didn't want to believe it. But he didn't think she just wanted to torture him. She was a nice lady actually. "Thanks for the coffee." Dean said, much calmer. "Maybe I'll come back some other time." He smiled.
"That would be nice, dear. You're welcome anytime." Dean thanked her again and walked to his car. He turned once more before getting in and she waved goodbye.
This had been no help to his case. But it explained many things Dean had wondered through his life. He would come back to talk to Missouri again if he had the chance.
Author's Note: Where I live, the phonebook has a section with whithe pages for particular phone's and another with yellow pages for publicity and ads. I don't know if its the same in the USA. So if it's not, now you know what it meant.
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