Defiance

Courtesy of another of Sam's death visions, the Winchesters are on the hunt again. This time, though, it's different. They know that the daughter killed her father. They know she's dangerous, her telekinetic powers well beyond those of Max. There's just one problem. They don't know which one of the girls killed him.

Spill it

"Stacy's not the killer."

"What? So, who is?" Dean cried. Sam jumped off the bed and ran to the door. Dean took a second to collect his thoughts before he went charging after his brother. Sam had already jumped into the driver's seat, waiting for Dean to give him the keys. Dean sild in next to him, tossed the set across the seats before Sam got it into his head to try jump start the Impala.

"Sammy, what'd you see?" Dean pressed his brother as they sped down the road. Sam spared Dean a glance as the road flew by under the wheels. His breath had evened out, but the echo of the migraine was still there, thankfully, reduced to a dull throb in his skull. He was sure that if the piercing pain lasted more then a few seconds, he would pass out. The pain peeked just as the visions started, and dropped as soon as they came back, but it was still painful. The visions seemed to dull the pain as he 'lived' those moments in time.

"The Stacy girl. She'll be killed by the same person who killed their dad." Sam answered the worried gaze his brother was throwing at him. The sight of Stacy, crumpled on the ground filled his mind as he said the words; her eyes rolled back, mouth open, gasping for air. He shook his head to clear the image as he registered Dean asking another question.

"So, how do we know this is the same killer?" Dean cried. He was sure that if Sam just told him what happened, he wouldn't have to ask these questions. He knew he probably annoyed Sam with these questions, but he had to know what was going on. He needed to know what was going through his head to be able to help his little brother. He'd had that once, and he wanted it have the knowledge again.

Sam looked at his brother, remembering the vision, trying to put it into perspective for his brother. "Ok, umm… it was Alex's lounge room. I didn't see anyone there. They were watching the TV, but it was on mute."

Stacy came into view, very obviously concentrating on the boy with her. Once again, Sam pushed the images out of his head, trying to stop the images from adding to his collection of scars. If someone could see the damage his brain had taken, they would find little space that wasn't criss-crossed with the repaired tissue.

"Come on, Sam." Dean called his brother back into the real world. Sam nodded as he tried to continue with what had happened.

"Stacy came home with a boy. She wasn't expecting anyone to be home. The killer didn't like it. She seemed to think it was a disgrace to their dad's memory, or something. Stacy didn't see a problem with it. They argued, and Stacy said some things." Sam shuddered as he remembered the argument. He hoped he never got into a fight like that with Dean. They had some arguments, but nothing like that had been. He doubted either of them actually meant what they were saying; they were just dealing with their grief.

"So, the other girl just broke her neck?" Dean asked. Sam knew he was prompting him for the story, and he was thankful for it, in a way. It got his thoughts out of the rut they got into some times.

"No. She was choked." Sam answered. He heard the sound of Stacy's limp body hit the floor again. They drove the rest of the way in silence, neither of them wanting to talk. They both knew they were thinking about Max. He'd killed his dad, uncle and tried to kill his step mother. He'd almost killed Dean while he was at it, too. Sam finally managed to stop him from killing, but Max committed suicide before anyone could stop him.

Sam looked at the parallels. Telekinetic. They both killed their family. But he wasn't sure of this girl meant to kill them. She'd been pushed, both times. He wasn't even sure if she really wanted to harm them. He knew the one time he'd used telekinesis, it'd been out of desperation, a strong emotion. Maybe that was all.

But those were all just a bunch of maybes. Maybe his dad was dead. Maybe the visions would stop. Maybe he'd be killed on their next hunt. He didn't really know. But one thing was for damn sure. He would find out who did this, and he would find out why.

They pulled up out the front of the house, the car barley stopping before the brothers were sprinting to the door, guns in hand. Dean was first, kicking the door as he went, trying his best to stop another death. If he could. Right behind him, Sam checked the other rooms, in case they'd moved. He nearly ran into Dean when he stopped. He shoved past him, eyes finding Stacy on their own.

She was slumped on the wall, tangled hair tumbling over her face. The room around her was a reck, everything flung around the room, broken in some way. The lounge fallen, the chair had large rips in it. The table was on the other wall, smashed into splinters.

It only took him a second to take it all in before he turned around, facing Dean again.

"We need to get out of here." Dean nodded before, once again, leading the way out. They left the door ajar, knowing it would just add to the crime scene. They both jumped into the car, Dean driving, pulling away from the house like- well, like it was a scene of a crime. If anyone had seen them, they knew the Impala would be a dead dive away for them, if they knew the model. They also knew that they would get the blame for killing the girl inside. Two men run into a house and run out of it, the girl's dead and there are signs of a struggle. There was no way anyone would see it differently.

"Great, just great. We've got another psychotic telekinetic on the loose." Dean growled.

"Dean, I'm not sure she meant to hurt them." Sam defended. He didn't know who it was, but he was fairly sure he'd snap like that with the argument they girls had been having. The one with the dad would have been going on for years. Slow anger was just as bad- if not worse- as the fast anger that came with the argument.

"Right, and poltergeists are the most friendly things I've ever met." Dean shot back.

"Dean, both times, she was pushed"

"Yeah, and so was Max, but I don't see you defending him too much right now."

"Dean, there's no point defending him. He's dead and he wanted to kill them."

"And this girl wants to kill them too. Sam, there's no difference!" Dean growled at his little brother, willing him to see his side. He never did. He knew Sam was his own person, and he didn't take orders from anyone. Unlike him. There was one person he could never say no to and everyone knew it.

"Dean, Max thought about it. He planned his family's deaths. This girl, who ever she is, isn't planning them. They just happen in the moment." Sam looked back at his brother, knowing he wouldn't agree. If they killed, and they knew about it, it wouldn't matter to him. If they had a reason that wasn't self defence, they were guilty of murder.

The rest of the ride back to the motel was silent. Well, as silent as it could get in the Impala, with Dean's music blasting the crap out of their ears. Neither of the brothers wanted to back down, both planning how to do things their own way.

Sam immediately turned in, pulling up the covers and falling asleep. Dean stayed up, planning how he could get Sam to see that killing the girl was the only way. When they found out who it was, of corse. He knew it wouldn't wake Sam, so he switched on the TV, hoping it was late enough for something half decent to be on.

The area was familiar. He'd been there only once before, and the figure had been there then too. It wasn't a room, or scenery. Well, as far as Sam was concerned, it wasn't really anywhere. It was a dream, nothing more, nothing less.

He looked at the figure again. He could make out more details this time. Her hair was wavy, dark, like he'd seen before. Her skin was tanned, not too much, but slightly. He could make out her brown eye colour, but little else of her face. It as though the more he saw in this dream world, the better he could see her. He wondered absent mindedly if they would have any better chance at answering questions, but discarded the idea as crazy. There were generally rules in these things.

"Hi" the girl called out to him again. She waved at him, and Sam somehow knew she was smiling. He waved back at her, a smile on his face. He didn't know what he was supposed to do here. All he knew was that there was a girl in his dreams now, and he had no idea how she was.

"You don't happen to be able to say your name now, can you?" Sam asked. He watched as the girl opened her mouth to answer, and how she seemed to shudder. She shrugged at him, as though to ask why.

"Nah. I wish." She answered. Sam nodded his understanding. He didn't know what else to do, so he began to walk. The girl in front of him noticed that and began to walk as well. They both walked, feet padding on the white space that seemed to be ground, but could easily been a wall, ceiling or water for all they could make out. There was no sound, as they walked, but they eventually reached the middle and stood a few meters away from each other.

The girl's features were still clouded, but he at lease knew her approximate hight now. She was slightly above average, and Sam had a strange flash of when Alex had punched Dean. He noticed she was squinting at him. Trying to see him properly?

"Can you see me?" he asked. He knew the girl was looking at him like he was stupid, but he had no idea how, as he couldn't see her very well.

"Of corse I can see you, idiot. You're just blurry." She answered. Sam nodded, knowing what she meant. They both looked at each other, and Sam had a sudden inspiration. He ran quickly to the girl, ad reached out his hand, intending to grab her wrist. His hand passed through, and he felt his skin tingle where it went through her's. The girl snatched her hand back and stepped away from him.

"Sorry." Sam told her. She nodded to him and rubbed her wrist with her other hand. She then looked up at him, her dark eyes piecing his.

"So, what do we do now?" the girl asked. It was an unexpected question, and Sam had no answer. He shrugged at the girl, who seemed to consider her options. "Tell me about you life." She declared after a while. Sam gaped at her, as though she'd lost her mind. In reality, she could have.

"Are you insane?" he asked her. She girl shook her head at him.

"Uh-uh." She told him. "Tell me about your life first." The girl look levelly at him, and waited. Sam considered it. He could tell her about his life, only keep it to the story he and Dean used. He was going on a road trip with his brother. Or he could tell her about what he really did, hunting the evil in the world, killing the supernatural.

"My brother and I are hunters." He blurted out suddenly. He had no idea where the confession came from, but he continued. "We don't hunt the normal things, like deer or pigs or anything like that…" Sam continued to tell this strange girl about who he was and what he did. When he was done, she asked about the things he hunted. He told her about spirits, women in white, werewolves, witches and zombies. He told her about how his mother had died, and the little he knew about demons.

When he was done, they began to compare the real thing to movies and books. It was fun, he thought, something he'd never done before. They compared real vampires to ones they'd seen in movies. She laughed at it all, never seeming to think he was crazy or scared that there was a whole other world she'd never heard of. But then, if she didn't know about it, she would think this was just any other dream, and by asking him if she was crazy, she'd be asking herself.

"Do werewolves actually turn into wolves, or are they just big, scary, furry people?" she asked. Sam looked at her, wondering where this was coming from. She must have read the question in his eyes, because she shrugged at him. "Wolves are my favourite animals." She answered. He nodded at her, before running his hand through his hair.

"Werewolves are vicious and blood thirsty. They look like people, mostly, apart from their nails, teeth and the wild look in their eyes. Their nails change into something closer to claws and their teeth become larger and one hell of a lot sharper. The only known way to kill one is a silver bullet through the heart." Sam answered. She nodded, and like everything else, seemed to just take it in her stride.

They continued to talk for a long time, until Sam finally felt his eyes grow heavy. He knew what was happening, so he said goodbye to the girl, and lied down, closing his eyes.

Sam woke in the apartment, a grin on his face. He had to admit to himself. That'd been one of the best dreams he'd ever had.

A/N: Another big thanks to Havz, mrs. sam winchester, artzgrrl6 and VeekaaIzhanez

kia

-Jasper's Imaginary Friend

P.S. I would love some reviews