Page looked as though she could explode from the pain, and tears were streaming from her cheeks. "Y—yes!" she screamed aloud. "Yes! I will!" she screamed. But her screams must have called the attention of the police outside, because they all rushed into the room. A white mist came from Dylan's body, and the next thing I knew, Dylan was dead, on the floor.
I awoke in a cold sweat, running a hand through my hair. "Dean! Dean, wake up..." I reached across the space between our beds and grabbed his arm, pulling on it like I used to when I was little. "Dean! It happened again...I...I had another dream," I watched as he woke up, and flashed me a disbelieving look. "I did! Dude, this one was about Page!" I pleaded with him silently, but he just rolled back over and covered his head with the blanket. I thought about the reaction he'd had when I'd mentioned having dreams in the past. He'd told me I was probably imagining things, and he was probably right. I rolled over in my bed and stared at the wall. I still couldn't shake this feeling that Page was in serious trouble.
I had almost fallen back asleep, when I heard the blaring tone of 'Welcome to the Black Parade' coming from my cell phone. I rolled over and answered it, watching Dean from the corner of my eye as he put the pillow over his head. "Hello?" I asked, wondering who in the hell would be calling at three am, since I hadn't checked the ID on the call.
"S...Sam?" I heard Page, who was in a fit of uncontrollable sobs on the other line.
I sat up straight and didn't say anything for a second. The tone in her voice was broken up, and she sounded like someone had just...oh God. "Page? Are you okay?" I asked, running a hand through my hair and trying to straighten it up, though I didn't really care what I looked like right then.
She sounded like she'd been through hell. "N...no. Mom...mom, dad...and...Dyl...they're...I...Sam, I need...I need you. I...I'm alone. And...I...please...I'm in Lawrence...at my parents'..." she gasped for air and seemed to break down in sobs, because she wasn't saying anything else.
I felt my heart break, and I got out of bed, reaching across and tugging on Dean's arm again. "Dean. Wake up," I watched as he rolled over. "We'll be there soon, Page, okay? We're in Illinois, so it shouldn't take us...seven hours or so. Just..." I tried to think. "Just try to stay calm, okay? Don't do anything stupid," I told her, and watched as Dean stared at me, a confused look in his eye. "Call me if you need anything..."
Page breathed deeply and heavily. "Please hurry..." she pleaded with me.
I hesitantly hung the phone up, and looked at Dean. "Page's parents and brother...I think they're dead, Dean. Page needs me. We...have to go back to Lawrence..." I pleaded with him. I'd never let Page down in my life. If she ever needed me, I always rushed to be there. "I don't care what you're going to say to object we ha--"
Dean rolled his eyes and nodded at me. "Fine, but you're driving. I fully intend to sleep the whole way there," he said, grabbing his suitcase and glanced at me.
I nodded and took the car keys from the table, grabbed my suitcases and filled up my laptop bag, then rushed to the car, then glanced over my shoulder to see Dean trying to keep up. I couldn't slow down, though, because if what I'd seen in my dream was true...Christ. I tore out of the hotel, like nobody's business, and I think I was doing twenty above the speed limit the whole way there. I kept my cell phone on the dashboard, and listened carefully for the ringer. Page's parents were...the only adults to ever treat me like I mattered. And her brother was a good friend. The guy I went to for advice on guy things, growing up. And now he was...gone. They were all gone. I sighed deeply and glanced over at Dean. Sleeping soundly. He had no clue what was going on. I had just foreseen the death of Page's entire family, and all of a sudden, it happened? I tried not to cry, but the thought of all of this happening...I couldn't help it.
We crossed the border into Lawrence at five in the morning, and I drove the last five miles to Page's house with my foot even harder on the gas pedal. I leaned over to wake Dean as I turned onto Golden St. "We're almost there, dude..." I said, taking a quick left onto the street I grew up on. I passed by Ida Long's place, and our old trailer, and...then pulled into Page's driveway, to see a squad car pulling away. Fuck, this was...real. This had really happened. I walked up to the door, Dean close behind me, both of us still in our pajamas, and knocked on the door.
After listening to make sure Page was coming, I heard a lock slide open, and the door crack a bit. "Sam..." she whispered and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me like she never intended to let go. "They—they're all...I..." she sobbed out, seeming like she had absolutely no clue where to start. "Come in..." she moved out of the way and invited Dean and I into the house.
I followed her lead, and stared at the entryway as we made our way into the living room. A majority of the front hall was blocked off with crime scene tape, as was the living room, and most of the furniture was gone, too. "Page," I said to her, watching as she turned and looked at me. God, that face killed me. I was going to ask her what happened, but that look told me without words that reliving the events would, like, kill her or something. "You...remember my brother, Dean, right? I know it's been a long time since you've seen him, but..."
She nodded and tried to smile at Dean, who showed her a comforting smile in return. "Yeah, I remember Dean. Can I get you guys anything? Coffee? Tea? A beer?" she asked as we made our way to the kitchen.
Dean was about to speak up, but I cut him off. "Let me get it..." I told her, getting into the fridge and watching as she and Dean sat down at the kitchen table. I grabbed Dean a beer, since I knew that was what he'd want, and I put a pot of coffee on for Page and I, then walked over beside her and put a hand on her arm. I was about to sit down beside her, but she stood instead, wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my shoulder. I held her and stroked her hair, trying to at least, take a bit of the pain away.
Dean sighed and took a quick glance at her. "What happened here, Page?" he asked, trying to be sensitive. At least he was more sensitive than he usually was.
Page glanced at Dean, then sighed, leaning her head back against my chest. "I...walked in, and my mom and dad were right there..." she pointed at one of the taped off areas. "And..." she stopped talking, and turned into me, choking out a sob. "I..." she shuddered and breathed in deeply. She looked up into my eyes and swallowed hard. "Dylan...he killed them. But, like, he wasn't Dylan. I tried to tell the cops that but they said I was delirious..." she stared at me, and in her eyes, in that moment, I realized that, maybe she believed me about what Dean and I did.
Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "What was different about him?"
Page glanced at Dean again, still clinging to me, but kept her head lain against my chest. "His eyes were...yellow. And before...before the police shot him he—he..." she tried to continue, but exploded in tears, against my shoulder.
I felt tears coming to my eyes again, and leaned down to kiss the top of Page's head. Her whole family died, in one day, and Dean was just 'work, work, work.' But when Dean spoke up, I realized why. "...did a white, like, misty aura come out of him after?" he asked. My eyes widened, as I remembered the stories dad told us about the Yellow Eyed Demon. The very few of them. But they did stick out in my mind.
Page nodded, and I felt a sick feeling in my stomach. "And...he like...told me to tell you that..." she wiped her eyes and headed for the coffee pot when it stopped brewing, preparing our coffee for us. "I don't know...it was weird," she paused. "I don't know if I should tell y--"
Dean cut her off. "Tell us...everything that happened," he put extra annunciation the word 'everything.'
She showed him a confused glance, then looked at me. I nodded at her, telling her that Dean could be trusted. "All right. He told me to 'tell Sammy that an old friend sends his condolences for Jessica.' It was...creepy."
I looked at her like she had two heads, and then turned my glance toward Dean, who seemed to be trying to hide the fact that he knew...something. He was bad at that, really. I wasn't going to worry about that right then, though. Instead, I took the coffee from Page as she offered it to me, and bit my lip. I wasn't sure what to say.
Dean sighed a bit. "All I can really tell you, that might be comforting right now? Is that Sam and I? We're looking for our dad, so he can tell us where to find the thing that killed-"
This time, Page cut Dean off. "I'm coming with you," she said simply, and when she saw that Dean was about to object, she shook her head. "No. No, I don't care. I'm coming with you. I'm just as personal about this as you guys now. And I want whatever that thing is to die...or..." she paused. "Re-die. Whatever. I'm coming with you."
Dean glared at her. "You don't know what you're getting into here, Page."
She shook her head. "Dean, listen. I know you're trying to help. But, I have..." she paused, and bit her lower lip. "I...have nothing to lose anymore," her eyes became bleary, and she looked from Dean to me. "Please...I...I need this. I can't...I just need to..."
I looked at Dean, then back at Page, realizing that I may get myself into deep shit for saying this, but I didn't care. I was where Page was, not even a year ago, so I definitely agreed. "Yes," I looked at Dean, who scoffed and flashed me an indignant glare. "Yes, you can come with us. I think...having you with us will help."
Dean tapped me on the shoulder, rather harshly, and nodded out to the back porch. "Sam, we need to talk about this. Can you excuse us, Page?" he asked, grabbing me by the upper arm and pulling me out onto the porch, closing the door and glaring at me. "Sam, what the hell are you thinking? A civilian?"
I raised an eyebrow. "We're civilians, too, you know."
"I don't care. She's not coming with us."
"Yes. She is. She deserves closure, too, Dean."
"Closure?" he scoffed. "You think Dad will like this?"
"I don't really care what dad will like."
"This is a really stupid idea, you know that?"
"Dean, listen..." I heard him grumbling, and rolled my eyes. "Just listen. You want to get this bastard for what he did to mom, right? And I do too, and for Jess. But...imagine what Page is going through," I glanced at the window, and saw her, with her head in her hands, staring at the table. "She just lost her whole family. And I'm all she has. Listen, man, she's coming with us."
Dean clenched his fists and threw his head back in frustration. "Fine. Fine, okay? But we leave in the morning. Or at noon. Whenever I wake up."
"All right."
"And you're responsible for training her ass."
"Sure, Dean."
Dean walked into the house, and I followed suit. "We're leaving whenever we wake up, Page. Can we crash here?" he asked her, trying not to look too mad.
Page nodded, and flashed me a very forced smile, silently saying a thank you, and nodded toward the stairs to show us where we were sleeping.