Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or Supernatural. They belong to the CW or whatever, and far more talented people than me. But goddess I wish I did own them. The only thing that's mine is Lacey and believe me, she wishes she weren't.

Part 10: Sweet Dreams

A group of children giggled gleefully as they played a game of their own making. The 'board' was a simple chalk outline on the sidewalk. They were crouched over it, their hushed tones whispering on the soft breeze.

I placed a hand over my eyes to keep the glare of the sun from blinding me and frowned at the scene before me. I stood in the front yard of a familiar looking house, but for some reason I couldn't place it. The breeze grew stronger and the skirt of my white sundress danced along with it.

I had the strong desire to go inside, but the sound of the children laughing stole my attention. I walked over with a cat's curiosity. "What are you doing?" I asked them.

They continued to laugh, but didn't raise their heads. "We're playing a game!"

"What kind of game?"

A little girl lifted her head and I froze. Her face was shredded, as if someone had taken a butcher knife to her. Blood dripped down her face and each drop that hit the cement echoed loudly in my ears. Her toothy smile tore at the already thin strips of flesh that were hanging off her face. "The kind that we win."

The other children looked up at me, and I screamed.

I also rolled out of my bed and I cried out when the pain of surprise from the landing hit me. My hands flew up to cover my mouth as I remembered that I wasn't alone.

In the room adjacent to mine, the Winchesters were snoozing. That wouldn't be a big deal, except for the fact they made me leave the doors connecting the rooms open. I think it was a trust issue. Or a safety issue. Either way, I really didn't need to be shouti-

"What's going on?" The ceiling light came to life and Dean stood in the doorway with his funky looking bed hair and a wicked looking dagger in his hand.

I yanked my sheets tighter around me, which was easy since I was tangled up in them. It wasn't as if I had anything to hide, it was just a black racerback tank and matching shorts, but st-

"Nice outfit." Dean teased.

Mother fucker. Stop interrupting my thoughts, you punk! I scowled at him and folded my arms across my chest. "Shut up."

That eyebrow of his rose and I was oh so tempted to try and shave that off next time he was asleep. He must have found my discomfort amusing, because he laughed. The dagger went onto the nightstand and he offered me his hand. I eyed it warily and made no move to take it.

He sighed. "Come on."

The wary look didn't fade, but I reached out and took the offered hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I still clutched my sheet with my other hand, and once I had my balance, I sighed. "Thanks." God, that hurt. Really. My pride wanted to commit suicide.

"Now, what happened?"

I shrugged and walked over to the window. I pushed the curtain aside and found myself greeted by the sun starting to rise. Damn. Morning already.

"Either you tell me what made you scream like a banshee or I just assume you're really clumsy in bed."

I opened my mouth to snap at him, but decided not to give him the satisfaction of a good retort. Instead I remained silent and let the curtain fall back into place. Let him suffer the not know-

"Lacey." He didn't bark it. He didn't growl. Maybe he was working on new tactics. If so, it was unnerving.

And damn it. I really wished that he'd stop interrupting my inner monologues. It was annoying. With a sigh, I sat down in the nearest chair. I curled up in it before deciding to reply. "Just another of those dreams, starring the creepy kids from the phone."

Dean didn't look pleased, but could you blame him? "Who died this time?"

"No one." I shook my head. "There was a group of them playing on the sidewalk. I asked them what they were doing and they said playing a game that they win."

"And that had you trying to earn a scream queen role?" He didn't seem to buy it.

"I'll have you know, I'm a damn good screamer." That didn't sound right and the smirk on Dean's face proved it. Must not kill him. "They looked at me. They were.." I shuddered. "..mutilated. These kids.. But they weren't kids. They were just.. Evil. Like that skinner demon. I haven't felt that kind of evil since…" I trailed off. How would I explain a Balrog to him? I couldn't. Not without sounding crazy. "..like ever." I tried to change the subject. "Where's your brother?"

"He woke up and decided to go on a coffee run." He sat down on my bed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "You ever been around evil before this?"

I shrugged and leaned my head back so I could stare at the ceiling. Evil. Balrog. War. Crazed Mary-Sues bent on domination or ruining canon. Angelus's fangs at my throat. None of those things I could actually talk about without being locked up. "Depends on your definition of evil. My sister claims to be a shaman of her own kind. She said that back at our old house we had 'things' in our house. Usually wandering spirits, but none really did anything. You'd catch their familiar scents sometimes.. Erin, that's my sister, claimed that we also had 'shadow people' in the basement. They drove the dogs nuts at times. Sometimes they'd sit on my brother's chest when he was asleep, or drain them both of energy, but I never saw them."

I stopped staring at the ceiling and turned my head to look at Dean. He was actually listening to me. Huh. "Anyway," I continued, "I can't say if it's true or not. They could have been fucking with my head. I mean, my brother actually convinced me that the government really did a medical experiment involving zombies." I watched as a mocking smile grew on Dean's lips. I sat up straight and pointed at him. "Don't even start with me, Mister Testosterone. I was naïve, he was ex-military, and I had a minor case of paranoia." Minor my ass.

Dean laughed and I heard a door from the other room open and shut. A moment later, Sam entered my room with coffee and a bag of donuts.

"What did I miss?" He asked and offered me a cup of coffee. I plucked it from the cardboard carrier with quiet thank you and he offered one to his brother. Once Dean had taken his, Sam sat down in a chair and tossed the donut bag at Dean.

"You missed a live tutorial of Lacey in bed." Dean said with a smug tone.

Sam nearly choked on his coffee and stared at me.

I glared at Dean. "A tutorial you are so in need of." I let out a cry as the bag of donuts sailed toward me. I barely managed to catch it without spilling my drink. "I had another dream." Sam's eyes widened and I repeated the details.

"Do you get these dreams often?" Sam asked me.

After I plucked a glazed donut from the bag I tossed the bag toward him. "Not really." There was the time at Hogwarts.. But that was.. I started to think of the phoenix ring on my finger. One day, I needed to stop wearing the damn thing. "Sometimes I just have nightmares." That much was true. I still dreamt of killing Sue. Guilt sucked. "But not like this. I mean, I've had dreams like the skinner demon before, but they were totally fiction."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked, now interested.

"Because for one thing, in those dreams, everyone would die." I set my coffee down on the table made a wild hand gesture. "Me, my friends. Innocents. Cameos from fictional characters or celebrities. Mmm. Loved the one with Orlando Bloom… But all of us are alive and kicking. I didn't 'feel' like I did with the last two. Although the dream about the aliens and Alan Thicke clones is still pretty questionable."

I was once again granted that 'look' of theirs. The one that said I was off my rocker. But I just smiled innocently at them and munched on my donut. "So what are we going to do about Dean's new girlfriend?"

"You don't have many friends, do you." Dean glowered at me. I guess he didn't find it as amusing as I did.

"I probably have more than you." I replied with a smirk. "And you aren't allowed to count your bedroom buddies. Those aren't friends, those are mad minutes."

"Jealous?"

"Of the Captain Kirk fetish?" I snorted. Please. "I'll pass. If I actually wanted a social life, I'd get one."

"Knock it off, both of you." Sam broke in. "I really don't want to hear either one of you trade stories about anything that I'd have to pay for on tv."

I finished off my donut and after one gulp of coffee, I stood up. "Fine. But you know what? If I have to be awake now, I feel the strong desire to be clean. So while I kick you both out and take a shower, you can do something useful."

"I already did." Sam grinned. "I woke up early and did some more digging. There's no way the statue could have Ava's remains. It was commissioned overseas."

I stuck my tongue out at Dean as I walked by the bed. "Ha ha. I told you it probably wouldn't be there."

"You were the one who put the idea into our heads in the first place!" Dean accused.

"Would you listen to me if I said that I went to McDonald's with Harry Potter?" I rolled my eyes. Technically it had been a Golden Arches. But it was close enough. "It was a random thought. Christ."

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door just as Dean yelled at me.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

Does the word 'duh' mean anything?

Nothing feels better than new clothes after a shower. At least to me. But then, again, I've relished being able to change clothes more than once a day on a daily basis since my time in Middle Earth. I loved the outfit I had there, but for Christ's sake, I had missed real clothes. It's one of the few things I get 'girly' about. That and shoes. Although I've always been more of a boot person than anything. Speaking of which, I had only three pairs of shoes with me. A pair of black heels and a pair of athletic shoes that I had bought the day before Dean was released from the hospital. Why the heels? Just in case. There are some places I may need to go that my usual footwear wouldn't be welcome at. Speaking of which, I was still using the boots I'd left the house with. They were a loyal pair of Corcoran II Field Boots. They cost me, but damn it. I loved them.

Now that we're done with that random monologue about shoes and clothes, let's get to the point. I was done with the morning routine and after being allowed to enter the Winchester's temporary 'inner sanctum' A.K.A. their cheap room, I was greeted by a satisfied looking Sam and a sullen looking Dean. Both of which were also all squeaky clean from the looks of things. Damn. I'd always prided myself on being fast at getting ready, but apparently compared to them, I was still just a girly girl at heart.

That sucked. Really.

"Do I want to know what happened?" I asked. I was having strange thoughts of those Wincest fics I'd always by passed. Was someone unfulfilled here? I really, really hoped I wasn't in one of those realities. Because.. Just.. No. I may have a condo in hell reserved just for me, but that part of the special hell? Not my thing. I'll stick with partying with the Robot Chicken guys. You know they were headed for hell.

"I'm driving." Sam announced as he spun my key ring around his finger. "We're going to check out a cabin that Mrs. Townsend said her husband owned. It's about a half hour drive from town."

"And you know this how?" Did I fall asleep in the shower?

"While you were busy doing your hair," Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam called his new girlfriend-"

"HEY!"

Dean ignored Sam's indigent outburst. "-and she told him about the place, probably in the hopes of a nice weekend-"

"You're twisted, you know that?" Sam said.

"I'm not the one taking advantage of a sweet old lady." Dean teased.

"I'm not.." Sam got out of his seat and threw his hands up in the air and headed for the door. "Why couldn't I have had a sister?"

Dean followed after him. "I hate to break it to you, but you are the sister in this family."

I watched them exit the room and I shook my head. "What a pair of id-"

Dean stuck his head back through the open doorway. "If you're coming, start moving your ass."

"I'll move something all right." I muttered and went back to my room to grab my bag. "It'll be my foot up your ass."

"I heard that!"

God damn it.