S1 EP9 HOME

This time Dean found it a little odd, both Bridget and Sam were drawing. Bridge in her sketchbook, Sam on a piece of paper. He clicked on the computer and kept talking aloud wondering if any of them were hearing him. "All right, I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cal – its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilation in West Texas. Hey!" Sam looked up from his drawing, Bridget kept going but cocked her head slightly to show she was listening. "Am I boring you both with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No, I'm listening," Sam said and stared at the drawing.

"Keep going," Bridget said.

"And here, in Sacramento, man shot himself in the head. Three times," Dean waved a hand in front of Sam's face. "Any of this blowing up your skirt? I expect this from Bridge."

She reached over and poked him with her pencil. He ignored her.

Sam frowned suddenly at his picture. "Wait, I've seen this."

"Seen what?" Dean asked as Sam went through his duffel bag. "What are you doing?" Sam took out a photo and set it on the table, the trees were the same. Bridget leaned over and her eyes widened. The house in the background…she looked at her sketch pad then back at…it was the same house.

"Dean, I know where we have to go next," Sam said.

"Where?"

"Back home – back to Kansas."

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"

He showed Dean the photo and the drawing, "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah," he nodded and Bridget felt the blood drop from her head.

"And it didn't burn down right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you getting' at?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but the people living in that house I think they're in danger."

"Why would you think that?"

Sam glanced at Bridget. She looked away. He cleared his throat. "Just trust me on this."

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that."

"I can't really explain it."

"Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Sam looked at Bridget. She nodded her head, "You might as well tell him."

"Tell me what?" he looked at Bridget then back at his brother. "Sam?"

"I have these nightmares," he sighed.

"I've noticed," he nodded.

"And sometimes…they come true."

"You mean…like Bridget?"

"No," she shook her head. "I get flashes, like pictures and yeah, mine come true too…I've got pictures to prove it," she tapped at her book. "Sam's are different though."

"Come again?"

"Look, Dean," Sam took a deep breath. "I dreamt about Jessica's death – for days before it happened."

"Sam, people have weird dreams. I'm sure its coincidence," he sat on the bed.

"How can it be when it happens to me?" Bridget said. "I've been like this since I was a kid. I get pictures of things too…I mean the hook man? My house on fire? The dark eyed blonde demon?...your house?"

"Our house?" Dean repeated.

She handed him her sketchbook and on the paper was an exact drawing of his house when he was a kid. "I've never seen your house, Dean, ever. I dreamt of that a week ago and now Sam draws the tree from the front yard? Not sure its coincidence."

"I don't know," he said overwhelmed and handed it back to her.

"This woman might be in danger. This thing that killed mom and Jessica might be after her," Sam argued.

"All right, slow down, would ya," Dean stood and started to pace. "I mean, first you tell me you've got the Shining along with Bridget's drawing dreams. And then you tell me I've gotta go back when…"

"When what?" Sam asked.

"When I swore to myself I would never go back there…" he said pain filled.

Sam spoke softly, "Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure…"

"I know we do…"

Bridget stared out the window at the old Winchester house. It was big, two stories and darkly colored, not a bad representation of the boys. Dean was staring at it, a dark sad look in his eyes. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"Let me get back to you on that," he said grimly and got out of the car. They walked up the steps of the porch, Dean a little slower as if each step was painful and she was betting it was. The door opened and she saw the startled look on Sam's face as he got a look at the brunette. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you," Dean said. "But we're with the Fed-."

"I'm Sam Winchester," he cut off his brother. "This is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Bridget. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

"Winchester," she repeated with a bit of a surprised look. "That's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean asked.

She nodded and stepped aside. "Come on in."

She guided them into the kitchen where a girl sat at the table working on homework and a little boy was jumping up and down in a playpen wanting juice.

"That's Ritchie," she said. "He's a juice junkie," she handed him his sippy cup. "And this is Sari, Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Bridget. Sam and Dean used to live here."

"Hi," she said and went back to her work.

"So you just moved in?" Dean asked, looking around the place that was the same as he remembered it.

"Yeah, from Wichita."

"You got family here?"

"No, I just, uh, needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job. New house."

"So how you liking it so far?" Sam asked.

"Well, with all due respect – I mean I'm sure you have a lot of happy memories here," Dean smiled weakly and Bridget slid her hand into his seeing the pain in his eyes. It was the least she could do and she was glad when he squeezed her hand back. "This place has issues."

"What do you mean?" Bridget asked.

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights all the time."

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asked.

"Umm…sink is backed up. There's rat's in the basement…I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No," Dean shook his head. "Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"It's just the scratching actually."

"Mom?" Sari said quietly and her mom kneeled down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."

"What, Sari?" Sam asked.

"The thing in my closet," she said.

"Oh, no baby. There was nothing in their closets," she looked at the boys. "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not," Sam nodded.

"She had a nightmare the other night."

"I wasn't dreaming – it came in my bedroom – and it was on fire."

Sam, Dean, and Bridget's eyes widened at the same time and they exchanged glances. Something was definitely going on here.

"You hear that?" Sam said. "A figure on fire."

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the one in your dreams?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo vision is coming true."

"Well, forget about that for a minute? The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom, Jessica, and Derek and Lydia?"

"And my nephew," she added the last part.

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed running a hand over his face as he drove.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or was it always there?"

"Couldn't have always been there," Bridget shook her head. "It got my family four years ago, remember."

"Or it could be something else entirely, you guys," Dean said. "We don't know yet."

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out," Sam said.

"And we will."

"I mean now."

"And how are we gonna do that? You got a story she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"We just gotta chill, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam sighed, "We'd try to figure out what we're dealing with. We'd dig up the history of the house."

"Exactly, except this time we know what happened."

"Yeah, how much do you know or remember?" Bridget asked.

"About that night?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Not much," Dean said. "I remember the fire, the heat…and then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?"

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?"

Sam shook his head, "No."

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do…Mom was…was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long time gone by the time Dad found her."

"It has yellow eyes," Bridget said as they pulled into a gas station.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The thing, that shadow in the room…I remember when my brother was trapped…I saw yellow eyes fading behind him…"

"I thought you only saw the one that killed Will?" Dean asked.

"I saw that one better, well, at least to tell it had blonde hair and dark eyes. But the thing that killed my brother and his family had yellow eyes."

"Did Dad ever have a theory?" Sam asked Dean.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times…"

"Okay, so if we're gonna figure this out we have to figure out what happened then. And see if it's the same."

"Yeah, we'll talk to Dad's friends, people who were there at the time."

"Does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asked Dean.

"I'll be right back," Dean got out of the car and walked around the building.

"What's wrong with him?"

Bridget shook her head, "He was old enough to remember, Sam…it's not easy being able to remember…you just want to forget and most days you do, but coming back to where it started, that's ripping a band aid off a scab…it hurts…" She paused as her necklace became warm. She brought a hand up to touch it and felt the need to leave the car. "I'll be right back." She patted his shoulder and got out of the car, following her instinct, she had this feeling before back when they dropped Sam off at his place. But it wasn't hot like it had been then, just warm. She caught the tail end of Dean's conversation as he stood there on the phone back to her. "Whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please…I need your help, Dad." He hung up the phone and she bit her lower lip walking closer.

"Dean…" she said softly.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes, "I said I'd be right back, but if you wanted to be alone with me you just had to say so."

She ignored his remarks and put her arms around him, hugging him, rubbing at his back. He relaxed into her, hugging her back, burying his face in her hair and she could feel the wetness on her shoulders from his falling tears. That was what her necklace was guiding her towards. Dean needed her. Sam was too young to remember any of it, but Dean had known his mother and this was opening old wounds. She knew what it felt like to lose your family, what it felt like to want to be held, to need it, but not be able to ask for it because you were too tough. But even walls fell down, and Dean's was breaking.

"It'll be okay, Dean…this will be okay," she pulled away and looked up into face wiping at his tears with her shirt sleeve. "We'll do this with or without John…you got me and you got Sam. We'll kick this things ass and move on to the next case because it's what we do."

"You're too damn smart, Bridge," Dean said with a smile. "Jack of all trades."

"I can be," she patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's get back to Sam before he thinks we're doing something dirty."

"We can, if you want?" Dean suggested.

"Real cute, but I'm not trashy enough to do it behind a gas station."

"First time for everything," he suggested.

"Dean," she warned him.

"All right, all right, sheesh. I tried."

By the time they got back to the Impala, Dean was Dean again, which meant he worked extra hard on annoying her…the day was just getting started.

After talking to the mechanic John used to work with they found themselves driving to a palm reader. Even Bridget found it to be a little hard to believe that John, of all people had gone to see a psychic. Sam was thumbing through a phone book, "All right so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's uh," he snorted, "There's Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley."

"Wait, wait! Missouri Moseley?"

"What?"

"That's a psychic?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Sam said.

"Bridge, hand me my dad's journal."

She pulled it from under the front seat and handed it over. Dean sat it between him and Sam and she leaned over to see, "Here, look at this. First page, first sentence."

Bridget read, "I went to see Missouri and I learned the truth."

"I always thought he meant the state," Dean admitted.

"The state?" Sam looked at him sideways.

"Well…yeah…shut up," he said and drove to the address in the book.

Bridget was now sitting between Sam and Dean on a red couch with a multi colored throw over it. An older black woman came out of a room, escorting a man out the front door. "All right, don't worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The man nodded and left. Missouri closed the door and shook her head. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold bangin' the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him that?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news. Well? Sam, Bridget, Dean, come on already. I ain't got all day. They followed her into the room with a nervous look. "Well, lemme look at ya," she chuckled. "You boys grew up handsome." She pointed at Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid, too."

Dean's smile fell and Sam smirked, Bridget snorted. Missouri looked at Sam and grabbed his hand. "Sam…I'm sorry about your girlfriend…"

She moved her eyes, "Bridget…just as beautiful as I imagined…even despite all your tragedy you hold a good soul…and it's not entirely alone…" she tilted her head to the side looking at the three. "I take it John is missing."

"How'd you know that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were thinkin' it just now."

"Where is he?" Dean asked. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know."

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be psychic aren't you?"

"Boy," she put a hand on her hip. "You see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." The three took a seat and she looked at Dean. "Boy! You put your foot on my coffee table, I'm a whack you with a spoon."

"I didn't do anything!"

"But you were thinkin' 'bout it," she said and Bridget grinned smirking along with Sam.

"Okay, so our dad," Sam started. "When did you first meet him?"

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you can say…I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire? Do you know what killed our mom?"

"A little," she said. "It was the same thing that killed Bridget's family too…and even your fiancés death was connected to that demon," Bridget's eyes widened a bit. "Your Daddy, John, took me to the house. He was hopin' I could sense echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked.

"I…" she shook her head.

"What was it?" Bridget asked.

"I don't know," she said softly. "But it was evil."

"Why my family? Why theirs?" Bridget asked.

"Honestly, I don't know, hun," she said. "But you're thinkin' its back in that house?"

"Definitely," Sam said.

"I don't understand," she said.

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents just like Bridget's old house. Why, is your house actin' up now?"

"I don't know," Sam said this time. "But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once – it just feels like something's starting."

"There's a comforting thought," Dean mumbled.

"We best pay her a visit then," Missouri said standing up and grabbing her bag, heading to the front door without another word. The three exchanged glances and headed for the door. Bridget paused for a moment with a frown and looked over her shoulder at the beaded curtain covering another doorway. She felt like someone else was here…

"Bridget?" Sam called her name.

"Yeah," she turned from the curtain and the feeling, heading out the door. "On my way."

Dean knocked on the front door and Jenny answered a moment later holding Ritchie. "Sam, Dean, Bridget, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jenny," Sam nodded. "This is our friend, Missouri."

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house. You know, for old time's sake," Dean said.

"You know, this isn't a good time. I'm busy."

"Listen, Jenny, it's important," Dean started to say. Missouri smacked him in the back of the head and he turned to her shocked, holding the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" she said to Dean before turning sweeter to Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out."

"About what?"

"About this house."

"What are you talking about?" she asked o the defense.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

"Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little."

Jenny looked unsure at first and then nodded her head and led the way to Sari's bedroom. Missouri looked around, "If there's any dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it, just like Caleb's room would be."

Bridget's eyes widened again, "How did you know my nephew's name?"

Missouri smiled at her, touching her arm. "I know a lot about you, just like I know you're special, different but not in the same way as Sam…I know many things," she looked at her then at Sam then back at her and Bridget looked away, biting her lower lip. She knew about her and Sam, never a completely good thing but Sam seemed distracted by her swaying the room was the center.

"Why is this the center?"

"This used to be your nursery. This is where it all happened," she said and Sam glanced at the ceiling. She looked at Dean who took out a reader. "That an EMF?"

"Uh huh."

"Amateur," she said and Dean glared as the EMF went nuts. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked and she nodded. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here…it's something different…and Bridget isn't reacting to it."

"Huh?" she asked as confused as the brothers.

Missouri smiled sadly at her again, "As I said, you're special, dear. Different…just like your brother was…" she reached out and touched the chain around her neck. "Don't think his talent was wasted just because he died…"

"What does Derek have to do with this?"

"He gave you this necklace for your birthday, worked hard to make it for you, and you hardly ever take it off, if ever. It's reacted to things, hasn't it…guided you in a way you can't explain."

Bridget touched it, remembering the night Jessica died and it burnt when the demon was near and Sam was in danger…how it warmed when Dean needed someone to comfort him. "Derek…"

"No…just his gift to you…"

"So Bridget can feel it?"

"Not all the time, just when someone is in immediate danger, someone she loves," she said and glanced at the boys, her eyes lingering on Sam longer than Bridget liked. "If it was this demon, she'd feel something at least, her brother was killed by it, this is his last gift to her…just as I'm sure this," she touched the ring at the end, tracing the moon stone, "would react to whatever killed Will…"

"Then what is it?" Bridget asked.

"Not it," she opened the closet. "Them…there's more than one spirit in this place."

"What are they doing here?" Dean asked.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected. Luckily, Bridget's house, despite all its tragedy managed to stay shut, I think that has a lot to do with Derek though, he was strong, different…and Will…well, that house is clean. This one, though, is infected."

"I don't get it," Sam said.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said there was more than one spirit."

"There is, I just can't quite make out the other one."

"Well, one thing's for damn sure – nobody's dyin' in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" Dean asked sternly.

Back at Missouri's house they were preparing for the night's house cleansing. On the table were different herbs and roots.

"So what is this stuff?" Dean asked gesturing at the table.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, few other odds and ends," Missouri said.

"Yeah? And what do we do with it?"

"We're gonna put them inside the walls, north, south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house," she said, tying up one of the pouches.

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall. Jenny is gonna love that."

"She'll live."

"And this will get rid of the spirits?" Sam asked.

"It should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

"Ohh goodie," Dean said. "Sounds like a blast, you sure we shouldn't team up? I don't like the idea of you and Bridget doing this on your own."

"I'll be fine on my own, and Bridget can take care of herself, she's pretty special at that," she looked at the girl who's eyes were attracted to the beaded curtain again. "Right, young lady?"

"Huh?" she glanced back around. "Yeah, yeah…I'll be fine on my own." She looked back at the curtain, wondering what was back there.

"Look," Jenny said as Missouri led her and the kids outside. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable leaving you guys alone."

"Just take your kids to the movies or somethin', and it'll all be over by the time you get back," Missouri said and Jenny hesitantly left the house. Missouri handed the herbs to each of them quickly without a word and Bridget took a hammer from the bag.

"Be careful," Sam called after her as she went upstairs, parting with him down the other hall towards the bathroom.

"You too…" she left walking into the bathroom. She glanced at the tile wall opposite the tub and used the hammer to make a hole in the wall, pulling plaster out to make the hole deep enough. She never noticed or heard the tub silently filling with water behind her at an incredibly fast pace. Once she got it deep enough she put the hammer down and reached for the herbs she had in her pocket. A force hit her chest knocking her back into the tub and causing her to drop the herbs. She sat up with a gasp before she was pulled back under, something holding her down as she thrashed in the water, clawing at the side of the tub. She got her head up again only to be forced back under. She pounded her hands against the side of the tub, her lungs burning. She was going to die, drowned in the bath tub. This couldn't happen, the others would be in danger. Sam and Dean would be in danger, she couldn't let anyone else die. She pounded harder, something inside her pounded with it, her mind throbbed with her hands impact and she pounded harder, mind moving frantically and the tub shattered on the last hit. Bridget spilled out, coughing and gasping on the floor. She grabbed the herbs off the floor and shoved them in the wall, falling back to her knees to catch her breath as a bright white light shone through the bathroom.

Instinct told her to get up, "Sam," she choked and ran down the hall to the room he was in. She burst through the door and found him on the floor, a lamp cord around his neck, his struggle with it weakening. "SAM!" She knelt next to him, trying to get it off but couldn't get it to come undone. In a panic, she grabbed the herbs next to Sam and kicked at the wall with her boot, it gave in the second kick and she shoved the herbs in. She half crawled, half ran to him, helping him unwind the cord and leant him against her, running her hand down his cheek as she held him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded weakly, clutching at his neck where the wires left imprints.

"Thank God," she sighed in relief and leaned her forehead against his, still rubbing his cheek, her heartbeat was returning to normal. "You scared me…don't do that again."

"Why…why are you wet?"

She smiled, "Wet t-shirt contest in the bathroom with a pissed off poltergeist. I think I won though."

"Tried to drown you?"

"Yeah, I kicked its ass," she said leaving out the whole breaking the tub with some unnatural force she couldn't understand.

Dean came into the room then, relieved to see them okay. "Oh thank God…I was nearly knifed downstairs. I was hoping it didn't get you two."

"We're okay?" Bridget said helping Sam sit up.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean inspected his brother's neck. "What the hell happened?"

"I nearly lost to a lamp."

He looked at Bridge and did a double take, "Uhh…why are you all wet, not that I'm complaining with that shirt."

"I was in the bathroom with my poltergeist, it liked the bath tub," she told him and they headed downstairs and they stood in the messy kitchen. Apparently it threw a fit.

"You sure it's over?" Sam asked.

Missouri nodded, "I'm sure. Why do you ask?"

Bridget felt it too…something wasn't over.

"Nothing," Sam said. "Never mind."

Jenny came into the house then and into the kitchen. "We're home," she caught sight of the kitchen now. "What happened?"

"Umm…sorry. We'll pay for this," Sam said.

"Don't you worry. Dean is gonna clean up this mess," Missouri said and Dean folded his arms over his chest. "Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get the mop?" He hung his head and walked away. "And don't cuss at me!" An hour later they were done and the three sat in Dean's car after dropping off Missouri and Bridget changed into dry clothes, wearing a pair of short and sneakers with a tank top and Sam's hoodie since she needed to do laundry. She had planned on doing that later on, but something still wasn't right.

"So tell me again why we're still here?" Dean asked.

"I don't know…Bridget and I still have a bad feeling," Sam said.

Dean looked at Bridget, "Really?"

She shrugged, "It doesn't seem right yet…that thing was freakin' evil…I felt it on me."

"Missouri cleaned it though, it should be over," Dean said.

"I just want to make sure," Sam said.

"Problem is I could be sleeping right now," Dean slunkered down in his seat and Sam and Bridget both caught sight of the window where Jenny was screaming.

"Dean look!"

"Oh shit…"

The three were already running to the house and inside. Dean pointed at the staircase, "You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny."

Bridget took the stairs two at a time to Richie's room, grabbing the little boy out of his bed and hurrying to Sari's room where Sam scooped up the screaming girl with the fire creature in her room. "It's okay," he was reassuring her as he and Bridget hurried down the stairs. Sam put Sari down and Bridget handed him her brother as Sam talked to her, "Sari, take your brother and go outside as fast as you can, don't look back."

"What about you guys?"

"We'll be fine," Bridget promised her and an invisible force knocked into Sam, dragging him backwards across the floor and into a table.

"SAM!" Bridget yelled and ran after him. She entered the kitchen to watch him get flung into a bunch of cabinets. "Sam!" She stepped towards him but was shoved roughly backwards into the wall, hard enough to make her fall to the ground. The fire figure appeared and kept stepping closer and as Bridget looked at it she didn't feel afraid, not of that.

"Bridget! Sam!" Dean ran into the kitchen with his shot gun pointed as she climbed her way to her feet.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and raised his gun to the figure.

"No don't!" Sam said, still pinned. "Don't!"

"What? Why?" Dean asked confused.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now," Sam said softly.

The fire vanished and a blonde woman stood there in a white night gown, smiling softly. Bridget recognized her from the pictures. It was Mary Winchester.

Dean lowered the gun, eyes wide as he spoke softly, "Mom?"

Mary smiled at him and stepped closer looking the exact same as the day she died, even wore the same nightgown. "Dean…" She walked over to Bridget still smiling at her, "Bridget…he doesn't blame you." That caused her to gasp. Her brother…she knew Derek?

Mary moved over to her youngest, "Sam…" tears slid down his face and her smile fell. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked.

She walked away from him and looked up at the ceiling, "You get out of my house and let go of my son." She burst into flames and flew into the ceiling, disappearing. The force holding Sam let go and he walked over to Bridget and Dean.

"Now it's over," Sam said.

"Thank God…" Bridget sighed. Mary's words had lifted something off of her…he didn't blame her for his death, for all their deaths. He wasn't upset with her. That, in itself, was a relief.

Dean was standing by his car later on that morning with the photos from Jenny. "Thanks for these."

"Don't thank me, they're yours," she said as Dean put the pictures in the trunk.

Sam sat with Bridget and Missouri on the porch steps. "Well there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure."

"Not even my mom?" Sam asked.

"No."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they canceled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing."

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Well, to protect her boys and their friend, of course." Sam nodded with tears in his eyes and Missouri put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You sensed it was here, didn't you? You and Bridget both, even when I couldn't."

Bridget shrugged, "I've always been sensitive to weird things."

"But you haven't, Sam," Missouri said.

"What's happening to me?" Sam asked.

"I know I should have the answers but I don't…it's not the same thing as Bridget…her and her brother were born with talent…I just don't know what yours is…"

"Sam, Bridge, you ready?" Dean called out to them.

Sam started walking and Bridge followed until Missouri grabbed her hand. She looked back at the woman, "You're destined for good things, dear…both of you are a match…things happen for a reason…just follow it. Don't stop fighting for it, even when you think it's gone."

"What?"

"You'll see, you'll know, you won't stop…" she smiled.

She nodded and remembered the curtain, "What…who's behind your beaded curtain?"

She smiled again, "I knew you'd sense something. That necklace of yours does guide you to the ones you love in distress, don't it."

"Bridget, move that ass," Dean called and she followed getting into the car, still confused by it all, but she had been right. Someone had been in that house. She just didn't know who.

Missouri was back in her house, walking through the beaded curtain into the back room. "That boy…he has such powerful abilities…so does Bridget, but you knew that when you met her…how Sam couldn't sense his own father, but Bridget sensed someone at least…she just had no idea."

John sat on the couch, looking grim, twisting his wedding ring. "Mary's spirit – do you think she saved them?"

"I do," she said a sighed. "John Winchester, I could slap you. Why won't you talk to your children?"

"I want to," he said with tears in his eyes. "You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em, the three of them. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth…"