D: Same as before; still not mine!

Chapter 3: It Starts

Something very sweet smelling was what roused him. He could distinctly make out the smell of Vanilla, and something else. Coffee? Vanilla Coffee? His eyes snapped open to find Dean standing above him, waving a Starbuck's cup under his nose.

"Morning sweetheart." Dean said with a smirk. He sat the coffee down and moved to the small table by the window.

Sam sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "Can't believe I slept so late. He reached over and grabbed the cup taking a long swallow. It was his favorite. He couldn't help but be surprised. Dean loved his coffee, but he always made fun of what he called Sam's 'sissy' drinks. "Thanks man."

Dean shrugged. "Figured you might need a little pick me up this morning." Dean opened up the laptop and began typing.

Sam studied his brother for a moment. Dean looked tired. He could see circles under his brother's eyes. "How long you been up?"

Dean shrugged again, "A while."

Sam nodded. Leave it to his brother to be cryptic. Sam knew that stuff was still bothering Dean, but he wasn't sure if he should broach the subject. They still hadn't really talked about what happened at the Roadhouse. For some reason Sam just had this all around bad feeling. Weather it was just this case, or his and Dean's relationship, Joe and Ellen, their Dad's death, or a little bit of everything, he couldn't tell. The air around him just felt tense and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

"You gonna drink that before it gets cold or did I waste a trip and five bucks for coffee?" Dean asked, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

Sam smiled and took another big drink. "I was just thinking." he started.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Why me?"

"Shut up. I'm trying to be serious man."

"Yeah me too." Dean said. "I seriously want to check out that house during the day. You can poke around on the internet, talk to some people. We'll meet back here this afternoon."

Sam's brow furrowed. "You don't want me to come with you? Why?"

"No special reason. Just covering more ground faster. Besides, you have a broken hand and I thought maybe you'd like to take it easy. So sue me!" Dean got up and put his jacket back on.

Sam stood quickly, "Dean, what's going on? I mean, just because my wrist is broke doesn't mean I'm an invalid." Sam had a sneaking suspicion that this was about more than his hand It was about what happened at the house and the spirit playing with him, and his dream. Sam may be the psychic in the family, but Dean seemed to have his own kind of crystal ball.

"Look Sam..." Dean sighed, "Just forget it. Do what you want. But I'm ready to go and you're not. So why don't I come back for you later."

Sam's jaw tightened but he decided not to push. Dean looked a little on edge and truth was Sam wanted to dive into the research pretty heavy before they attempted to rid the house of the witches. Once again he gave in to his brother. "Yeah, I'll see you later. Just leave your cell on!" Sam barely got out before the door closed. He shook his head and headed for the shower.

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Dean fired up his car and took off out of the parking lot before Sam could change his mind. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to Sam at that house yesterday, but he wasn't blind. Something had messed with his brother and shook him up. And even if Sam's dream wasn't a vision, something caused him to have a nightmare. Sam had enough reasons to have nightmares. Dean didn't want him around anything else to add to them. Not to mention he secretly wanted a little time to himself. He was still trying to process everything and he didn't need Sam to try and make him talk.

Dean still wasn't sure exactly how he felt about what happened with Ellen. He didn't really like the woman. He didn't hate her either, but there was a time there when he was to the point of welcoming having allies. Friends even. He caught a glimpse of what it would have been like to have someone to turn to for help. A place he could feel safe and a place for Sam if something ever happened to him. It was just a fleeting moment, but at the time it had felt good. Now that was gone, and he felt somewhat conflicted. They were back to their solitary lives, just like they were used to and he always wanted. But he couldn't keep from feeling that maybe they had just lost another something.

Dean pulled himself out of his thoughts as he pulled up to the house. The sun was shining brightly above it now giving the house a welcome appeal, minus of course the fire damage. He grabbed his EMF and his shot gun and headed up. He made his way inside quickly. He wasn't actually sure what he was looking for. He knew what they were up against. They simply needed to do a salt and burn, or incantation. There was nothing that was going to be there during the day. But he pulled out his EMF anyway.

As he suspected, nothing registered. That was until he got to the upstairs hallway. The machine suddenly went crazy. Dean instantly tensed and prepared himself for some sort of onslaught. But he waited and nothing came. The EMF however did not quiet. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something in the mirror. He spun to face it dead on, but nothing was there. Then he felt a coldness surround him and before he was able to bring his gun up he was pushed violently into the wall. His head slammed into the shelf that just happened to be head high. For a moment he saw stars. He tried to move, but something had him pinned by his chest. For a minute he had a sense of deja vu. He hated being pinned to walls by an invisible force. He was about to make a snide comment to that fact but then he heard a voice whisper closely to his ear.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Oh yeah. Guess I missed the sign out front." Dean said sarcastically.

"Not what I mean. You've been touched by death already. You shouldn't be here."

Dean's blood turned cold and his breath caught. "I'm so gonna kill you."

The voice laughed. "He's hiding things from you just as you are him. You can't protect him. You will fail. You shouldn't be here. He knows that. He blames you. It should have been you, not your father."

Dean suddenly found himself speechless. He was sure all the blood had just drained from his face. He tried with all his might to break free from the hold but just couldn't move. Then as suddenly as it all started, the pressure left his chest and the EMF quieted. The spirit was gone. For a moment he stood there, simply stunned.

"What the hell!" he screamed. "You don't know shit! You hear me! You can read my mind all you want but I'm not gonna buy it!"

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Sam fumed for a little while but quickly got over it as he immersed himself into his research. It didn't take him long to find out where the last family was staying since the fire. During his cab ride to the hotel the Mitchell family was staying at, he thought of the best way to approach them. He didn't think they would buy a fire investigator since the fire was almost a month ago. He also didn't feel confident enough right now to pull off being some reporter. So he decided to give something a try. Something that his brother would call him crazy for. But his gut was telling him that right now it was the best way to go. He would just be honest. Well, mostly honest, he thought as he knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" the petite woman asked when she opened the door.

"Mrs. Mitchell?" the woman nodded. "Hi, my name is Sam and I'm...I'm an investigator. I was wondering if you have a moment, if I could ask you a few questions about your house fire?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought the fire department was done with the investigation?"

Sam bit his bottom lip. He was a bad liar. "Yeah well, see...I'm not with the fire department." He looked into the woman's eyes and thought, hell with it. "Look Mrs. Mitchell. I'm a paranormal investigator. I believe that there was something happening at your house and that it has been for years on that property. I think you know what I'm talking about and I'd just like to ask some questions."

A shocked expression clouded the woman's face as she studied Sam for several seconds. Then she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. She led the way to a couch and asked him to sit then took a seat in the chair facing him. "Most people thought we were crazy." she suddenly blurted out.

"I don't." Sam told her. "You'd be surprised the stories I've heard. I would like to hear yours."

Mrs. Mitchell hesitated for a moment. "Are you looking to publish a story or something?"

"No ma'am. Truth is, my brother and I we investigate things like this and help out any way we can." Sam said.

"Help how? How do I know you're for real?"

"It depends on the case. If you could tell about what happened before the fire, maybe I could give you some explanations. I don't have any credentials. This is just something my family does. Please believe me, I only want to help."

Mrs. Mitchell took a deep breath. "Where do I start?" she muttered to herself. Then, to Sam's surprise, she just suddenly opened up and started telling him everything. He almost couldn't keep up with her. She told Sam that they were not the type of family who believed in anything paranormal. Until they bought their house. She said that at first it was just little things. Items would be moved, they heard footsteps at night. The one thing that happened the most was catching glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye.

"You would see something in the mirror, or a shadow on the wall, but when you looked directly at it, it was gone." she said. Sam nodded, remembering his own experience. "The worst was when the voices started."

"Voices?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Out of nowhere. It would say things like 'leave' or 'you shouldn't be here' and 'this is our land'. But then...we...the kids...they started having... and so did me and my husband"

"Having what?" Sam pushed.

"Dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Dreams about everyone else. It was weird. In the dreams there was a voice that would start saying things like, 'your husband doesn't love you'." She paused for a minute. "It was like whatever it was, it was playing mind games with us. Trying to turn us against each other. And then sometimes, it would happen, and I would wake up. Only I hand' been asleep. Does that make sense?"

Sam nodded. "That makes sense to me. Look Mrs. Mitchell. My brother and I would like to check out the house if you don't mind." Even though we already have, he thought. "I could get back to you after we investigate."

"By all means. My family and I have no desire to go back there."

"What happened the night of the fire?" Sam asked.

"Things had been happening more and more, pushing all of us to our limits of sanity. We really thought we were going crazy. It was a little after ten pm. My husband wasn't home yet. He works late sometimes. I heard a voice coming from upstairs. I went up to check on the kids and when I got to the hallway I glanced in the mirror. I saw her. A woman with black eyes. She said, 'we burned here and now you will too.' Then I suddenly smelled smoke and my kitchen was engulfed in flames in seconds. I didn't think we'd get out in time."

"You must've been terrified." Sam said.

"We were. I just thank God we are all still alive. So you see, I have no problem if you investigate the house. But I would like to know what you think."

Sam stood and headed to the door. "I'll let you know what we find. Thank you Mrs. Mitchell."

As he started walking back to the little motel he and Dean were calling home this week he took out his cell. He hadn't heard from his brother in over three hours. He quickly hit speed dial.

"What?" Dean answered harshly.

"Excuse me. I was just making sure you were still alive." Sam retorted. "Where are you?"

"I'm just leaving the house. Where are you?"

"I'm walking back to the motel from downtown. Come pick me up. I'm on Fifth Street."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

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Sam heard the rumble of the Impala before he saw it. Dean eased up to the curb and Sam jumped in. Sam immediately noticed how tense his brother was. "What's wrong?"

Dean's eyes darted to Sam then back to the road. "Nothing. What'd you find?"

Sam bit his cheek. His brother was a stubborn ass. "I talked to Mrs. Mitchell." Sam went on and told Dean the Mitchell's entire story. "So that pretty much sounds like all the rumors I found on the internet. And my guess is that they really were witches. And I understand the whole fire thing, cause they burned and all. But that doesn't explain why they want to turn people against each other. Why the mind games?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Dude, they're evil. Plain and simple. Evil doesn't need a reason."

"I guess." Sam said.

"Not everything can be reasoned and have some type of logic placed on it Sam. Some things just are. Evil likes to hurt people. That's it's only function. Stop trying to find a reason why for everything."

Sam stared at Dean for a moment. "Did something happen at the house? Did you find anything?"

Dean's jaw twitched slightly. "There was something there, although I guess technically you could say I didn't find anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it came to me." Dean rubbed his chest without realizing it. "Those bitches like to play rough. We'll just see how they like it when I play rough right back."

"Are you okay Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah...yeah." Dean snapped himself out of his daze. "Just a little sore."

Sam wasn't buying it. His brother was way more tense than usual, on the verge of being upset. "Did you hear something? A voice? Did it say something to you?"

Dean cast a quick glance over to Sam. "What's with the twenty questions? I went in, got shoved around a little then left. I'm fine. We just gotta figure out how to get rid of them. Do we know where they're buried?"

Sam shook his head. "Whatever." he muttered to himself. "They weren't buried. Their bodies burned with the house. They're already ash."

"Then I guess you need to do some digging on whatever incantation we need to use to get rid of them." Dean said as he pulled into the motel. "You get started. I'll go grab us something to eat."

Sam was about to protest, then thought better of it. He just needed to be patient. He would get it out of Dean what happened sooner or later. As he slumped over his laptop once more his mind thought back to his dream. The voice had said everyone would pay for the desecration of the land. What did that mean? He was just getting into his research when he felt a cold chill come over him. Then the whispered voice was in his ear again.

'You can't destroy us.'

Sam stood and spun around, looking around the room. "What do you want?"

'Your brother wreaks of death's touch. Did you know he resents you for that?'

"Get out of my head!" Sam screamed. He grabbed the holy water out of his bag and sprinkled himself with it. Then he grabbed the salt and lined the room. The voice laughed one last time and then was gone, and so was the coldness.

Sam slouched onto the bed. The voices words echoing in his head. "No! No! It was just messing with you Sam. Don't let it get to you." he told himself.

"Talking to yourself Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam's head snapped up. He hadn't even heard Dean come in. "I had a visitor." Sam said.

-TBC-

Thanks again for reading, and for those wonderful reviews! They definitely make my day! Hope this chapter was okay, it's kind of a transition chapter. Next one will really kick into the story! Thanks again!