When Danielle awoke the next morning, her dad and her uncle was discussing something quietly on one of their beds.
"Uh..." Dean nodded over Sam's shoulder when he noticed that Danielle was awake.
Sam turned and smiled when he saw her. "Hey, kiddo. You hungry?"
She smiled and nodded, climbing off her cot. Her dad and uncle were already dressed, so she grabbed some of her new clothing and went into the bathroom.
Danielle looked down at what she had. A pair of blue jeans and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. She had been so out of it the night before that Sam had picked out most of her clothing. She inspected the shirt, then shrugged. Oh, well. It was cute, at least. She brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a quick braid, then swiped on some of the deodorant her uncle had bought her.
"Ready?" Her dad asked when she came out. SHe nodded. She tossed her pajama's in her bag and zipped it up. They made their way out to the car.
Sam held the back door open for her and she climbed in.
"So, Danielle, what grade are you in?" He asked, settling into his seat.
She hesitated. How was she supposed to tell them that she had never had any formal schooling? She could read well, and write, and she could do math. Her grandpa said that she didn't need more than that. But telling Sam and Dean this would take a lot of words and Danielle didn't like words much. So, she settled for shrugging her shoulders.
Sam seemed surprised. "You don't know what grade your in?" She shook her head. "Uh, Dani, have you ever gone to school at all?" Another head shake.
Sam and Dean exchanged angry looks. Dean didn't hold much by school, he had hated it himself, but what kind of person would intentenally deprive a child an education? And for what? Just to be cruel?
Sam grabbed a book out of the glove box and handed it to her. "Can you read this, Danielle?" He asked. She glanced at it and shook her head. "You can't read?" He asked gently.
"Not that." She said. "It isn't in English."
Sam realized he hand handed her a Latin chant book. "Sorry." He said, handing her something else. He looked at it this time. It was a back issue of Car Craft Magazine.
"The Second Generation Chevrolet Camaro was introduced to market in February 1970 and remained in production for 12 years." She read aloud.
Sam sighed with relief. She could read, then. "Can you write?" He asked her. She nodded. "How much math do you know?"
"I can add and subtract." She whispered. "That's it."
Sam turned to Dean. "I know of a website where I could test her, see what grade she should be in. Then I can start her schooling."
"Okay." Dean fought a grin at how Sam had just assumed he would be the one to teach Danielle. He would, of course, but it was still funny. He stopped grinning when he thought about the abuse the little girl, his little girl, in the backseat had suffered through.
She was sitting, with her head ducked down, picking at a scab on her finger. Dean knew he should say something to her, but he didn't know what to say. What could you, in a situation like this? 'Hey I'm sorry I haven't been there for you the past twelve years while your grandfather abused you and your mother basically ignored you'? Yeah, that was gonna go over well.
They grabbed some breakfast at a local diner, then went back to motel room to eat. Danielle ate her pancakes and sausage links in silence, while Dean looked something up on the laptop and Sam sketched out a drawing on his napkin. Danielle moved closer to him.
"What's that?" She asked. Sam looked up, startled to she had spoke with out being spoken to first.
"I don't know." He answered truthfully.
"All right." Dean said. "I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I've found some candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, it's crew gone. And, uh, some cattle mutilations in West Texas." He looked to realize that his brother was still drawing and that his daughter was staring at SpongeBob on tv. "Hello? Am I boring you guys with all this hunting evil stuff?"
"No, I'm listening." Sam said. Danielle didn't answer, but she did shift her gaze back to her father. "Keep going."
"And, here," Dean continued. "A Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." He realized once again that Sam wasn't pay attention, so he waved his hand in front of Sam's face energetically. "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, boy-o?"
Sam was studying the picture he had been drawing. Danielle tried to get a better look at it and realized it was a tree.
"I've seen this." Sam said. He got up, walked around his niece and started to search though his duffel bag.
"Seen what?" Dean asked. He shot a quizzical look at Danielle and she shrugged. "Sam, what are you doing?"
Sam held up two things, the picture he had been drawing and a snapshot. Danielle moved to look over her father shoulder. The snapshot was old, older than her, and showed a family: a mom, the dad, a little boy, and a baby. Looking at the little boy, she realized that it was her dad. So, that would make the baby Sam. She then glanced at the drawing of a tree. Hmm. It was just like a tree in the background of the snapshot.
"I know where we're going next." Sam said.
"Where?"
"Back home. Back to Kansas." Sam answered.
Dean frowned. "Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"
Sam held the photo up again. "This was taken in front of our old house, right? The one where, um, Mom died?"
Dean frowned again. "Yeah..."
"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?"
Dean sighed. "I guess so, yeah. What are you talking about?"
Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but...the people who live in our old house, I think they might be in...danger."
Dean looked at him like he was insane. "Why would you think that?"
"Uh...it's just, um...look, would you just trust me on this one?"
Dean held up his hands. "Wait, trust you?"
It sounded to Danielle like they were going to start arguing, so she got up and hurried into the bathroom. Arguing led to fighting and fighting led to fist swing and she didn't want to be in the middle of that. She waited in the bathroom till someone knocked on the door.
"Danielle?" It was her dad.
"Yeah?" She answered.
"You okay in there?" He sounded genuinely concerned.
"Yeah."
"Well, we're getting ready to go. Are you ready?"
She opened the door. "I'm ready."
She helped carry their stuff to the car and she climbed in the back seat.
"Tonight," Sam turned around to tell her. "We're going to start some of those test I was talking about. How does that sound?"
"That sounds good." She said, and actually smiled at him. "Where are we going?"
"Kansas." her dad answered. "We're going to Kansas."
Danielle saw a look pass between the two men and knew she had struck a nerve. She tried to settle back in her seat and look at one of the magazines that Sam had bought her, but they kept asking her questions. Danielle got the feeling that they were talking to her to keep from talking to one another.
"What's your favorite color?" Sam had asked her.
"Pink." She answered.
Her dad had asked her about food, what kind did she like? She shrugged. How could she tell them she was totally and completely, 100% compatible? She ate what you told her to eat, slept where you said to sleep, wore what you wanted her to wear. She had no identity of her own.
It didn't take very long to get to Kansas from South Dakota. It was still light outside when they pulled up in front of the house. The two brothers stared at it silently for a minute.
"You gonna be okay?" Sam asked Dean.
Dean half-smiled. "Let me get back to you on that, okay?"
The three of them headed across the front lawn up to the door. Danielle could see that her father was visibly upset, so she slipped her hand into his. He look down, surprised when he felt pressure in his palm, but smiled at her and squeezed her hand.
Sam knocked, loudly, on the front door. A blonde woman answered. Danielle noticed that her uncle paled when he saw her.
"Can I help you?" She asked, looking quizzically at them.
"Sorry, to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-." Dean started, but Sam cut him off.
"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean and his daughter, Dani. Dean and I lived here when we were kids. We were just driving by and wondered if we could stop and see the old place." he said.
"Winchester. Hmm. You know, that's funny." The woman said. "I think I found some of your old photo's the other night."
"You did?" Dean asked, surprised. He squeezed Danielle's hand again.
"Yeah. Come on in." the woman said. "I'm Jenny, by the way."
"Nice to meet you."
They followed her into the kitchen, Danielle clutching her father the entire way. It seemed now that she held on to him, she didn't want to let go. In the kitchen, a girl a little younger than Danielle sat at the table doing schoolwork. Danielle looked at her enviously. A toddler, a little boy, bounced in his playpen.
"Juice! Juice! Juice!" He squealed.
"This is Richie." Jenny explained. She grabbed a sippy cup out of the fridge and handed it to the baby. "He's kind of a juice junkie. At least he won't get scurvy." She walked over to the girl, ruffled her hair. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Dani. They used to live here."
Dean waved and Danielle tried to smile. Strangers made her nervous.
"Hey, Sari." Sam said.
"So, you guys just move in?" Dean asked. Danielle was still clutching his hand. He moved a little closer to her, trying to silently comfort whatever was wrong.
"Yeah." Jenny answered. "From Wichita."
"You got family here...or...?"
"No, no." She shook her head. "I just needed, uh, a fresh start, is all. So, new town, new job - as soon as I find one - new house. You know."
"So, how do you like it so far?" Sam asked.
Jenny shook her head. Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home, I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here. This place, it has it's issues though."
Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? Flickering lights almost hourly."
"That's too bad." Dean said. "What else?"
Jenny thought for a second. "Um...sinks backed up, rats in the basement." she paused. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."
Dean shook his head. "It's okay. Look, have you seen rats or just heard scratching?"
"Just the scratching, actually." Jenny answered.
"Mom?" The little girl, Sari, asked. Her mom knelt down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."
"What Sari?" Sam asked.
"The thing in my closet."
Even Danielle felt shocked. She, at least, knew what was out there, had seen things that no child should have to see. She felt pity for this girl.
"Oh, no, baby." Her mom was comforting her. "There was nothing in their closets." She sent looks to Sam and Dean. "Right?"
"Right." Sam answered. "Of course not."
"She had a nightmare the other night." Jenny explained.
"I wasn't dreaming." Sari insisted. "It came into my room and it was on fire."
Her dad and uncle made chitchat for a few more minutes, then they left. On the way to car, Sam started to talk.
"You hear that? A figure on fire." He said.
"And that woman, Jenny. She's the woman from your dreams?"
Danielle looked at them, confused. Dreams? What was this...oh, this was probably something they had discussed while she was in the bathroom. Well, you miss interesting things when you're hiding out.
"Yeah." Sam said. "And did you hear what she was saying? Scratching, flickering lights? Both are signs of a malevolent spirit."
They climbed in the car, Danielle lay down in the back, still listening.
"Yeah," Dean was saying. "Well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true."
Sam's voice sounded an octave higher than usual. "Forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, you think it's the same thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"
Danielle frowned. Who was Jessica? One of these days, she was going to have to get the entire story from these two, so she could understand what was going on. This was confusing. What had happened to their mother, her grandmother? She knew something bad had happened in that house, she felt it in her gut as soon as she stepped through the door. She didn't ask any questions, though, Now wasn't the time. So she just lay back, listening to them talk, and closed her eyes.