Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Nightmare, part two, everyone!

Since I'm a generous author, I dropped in another clue! Or two clues, depending on how you look at it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

KK161990- Cas is going to be in a lot more chapters, now! Thank you! I'm very pleased you think so!

Garideth- Oh most definitely, it was a great episode! They do seem to be getting closer, yeah?

AngelicScream- Thank you! I'm glad you like it.

ccgnme- Yup, that's classic Sammy for you! Ahhh, theories, I love this part of writing a story….

XKaterinaNightingaleX- Thank you! It's always great to hear from new readers!

Chapter name borrowed from Annihilator… such a predictable name, but whatever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE- THE NIGHTMARE FACTORY

Dean drove the Impala well over the speed limit, glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eyes.

Sam held his head with one hand, speaking slowly into his phone. "Roger Miller. Ah, no, no, just the address, please. OK, thanks."

He looked at Dean. "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120."

"You OK?" Dean slowed the car slightly.

"Yeah."

Both Dean and I knew Sam was lying.

"If you're gonna hurl I'll pull the car over, you know, 'cuz the upholstery…"

He trailed off, and I couldn't help but smile, even in this grim situation.

"I'm fine," Sam snapped.

He wasn't.

"All right," Dean said, unconvinced.

"Just drive," Sam leant his head against the window.

He gave Dean a fleeting look and sighed heavily.

"Dean, I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."

Dean shot him a worried look. "Come on, man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine."

I wished I could help him.

"What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"

Hadn't I asked myself the same question? Over and over again?

I'd never found my answer.

Would Sam?

"I don't know, Sam," Dean pressed the bridge of his nose. "But we'll figure it out. We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing."

"No." Sam's voice was flat. "It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean stared straight ahead for a long moment. "This does not freak me out."

Sam stared at him, then turned away.

"Odette?" I looked up, surprised, as Sam looked back at me.

"Yeah?"

"Do they scare you? The visions?"

I turned my head to the side. "Of course it does, Sam. I'm terrified. Every night I wake up thinking that maybe my nightmare was real, and somebody could have died because I thought it was 'just a dream'. "

"I'm terrified," I repeated quietly.

Sam inhaled sharply, eyes warm and sympathetic.

Castiel, who hadn't said a word in all this, opened his mouth. "I would have told you if it were real."

I glanced at him, caught off guard.

"Thanks."

~Supernatural~

The car pulled up as the middle-aged man I remembered from the other night approached his apartment with a bag of groceries.

Sam spoke out the window. "Hey, Roger."

"What are you guys, missionaries?" Roger scowled. "Leave me alone!"

"Please!" Sam pleaded.

But Roger was gone.

Dean gunned the engine, jumping the curb as he hurriedly parked.

We got out and ran towards the building.

Castiel did not follow us.

"Hey! Roger. We're trying to help!" Sam shouted futilely, running up to the entrance just as Roger closed the door behind him.

"I don't want your help." Roger walked away.

Sam vainly called after him. "We're not priests, you gotta listen to us!"

"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean punched the wall in frustration.

He looked around. "Come on. Come on, come on."

We raced around the corner to a back entrance. It was securely locked. Dean quickly surveyed the area, then kicked it open.

They jumped up to the first level of the fire escape, hoisting me along. We ran up the stairs, just one floor below Roger's house, when we heard a window slide down with a wet, squelching noise.

Sam and I froze.

Dean sprinted past us, grabbing the railing.

I was stuck in my position, wanting to turn away, but my body would not cooperate.

I could not close my eyes and eradicate the image of Roger's head, lying in his flowerbed, his blood as red as the roses that bloomed beside him.

Crimson splattered the kitchen window.

Dean handed out two handkerchiefs. "Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here."

"Come on!" Dean grasped my elbow and shook my arm. "You can freak later, kid, we gotta move!" He shook my arm again.

I numbly did as I was told, as Roger Miller's eyes stared blankly up at me.

~Supernatural~

"I'm telling you, there was nothing in there," Dean insisted. "The kid and I checked everything. No signs in there, just like the Miller's house."

"I saw something, in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was…. something was stalking Roger."

"Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?"

"It is connected to their family," Dean cursed loudly as Castiel reappeared.

"So what do you think, Castiel? A vengeful spirit?"

He stared at Sam. "Spirits are not the only ones who suffer, Samuel."

We blinked at him, as Sam muttered petulantly, "Don't call me Samuel."

"Well, yeah," Dean chose to break the awkward silence. "There's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years."

"Banshees," Sam nodded.

"Angiak?" I offered hesitantly.

Three pairs of eyes stared at me.

"Basically like a curse," Dean put on his shoes. "So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."

"And now the something is out for revenge," Sam's brow furrowed. "And the men in the family are dying."

"Hey, do you think Max is in danger?" Sam added.

"He will be," Castiel's eyes flashed.

"Let's figure it out before he is," Dean answered shortly.

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people," Sam laughed bitterly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Both our families are cursed."

Dean huffed indignantly. "Our family's not cursed! We just…had our dark spots."

Sam stared at him pointedly. "Our dark spots are…..pretty dark."

Dean glowered at him. "You're…. dark."

~Supernatural~

Max let us in readily, since Dean and Sam were in their priest outfits.

Castiel had flatly refused to dress as a priest, choosing to stay away.

He looked curiously at me. "Who are you?"

"She's our sister, Odette," Dean said quickly, before I could say anything myself.

"My mom's resting, she's pretty wrecked," Max said.

"Of course," Dean tried to smile encouragingly.

"All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know, 'cuz nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tuna casserole."

I smiled sadly at Max. I knew what he meant.

He returned it.

Max gestured to the lounge, and we all took seats.

There was a moment's silence, then Sam sighed.

"How are you holding up?" He softly asked him.

"OK." Max's face did not change.

"Your dad and your uncle were close," Sam noted.

"Yeah, I guess," Max nodded. "I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not lately much?" Sam's eyes were sharp on his face.

"No, it's not that. It's just…we used to be neighbors when I was a kid, and we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time."

"Right." Sam knitted his eyebrows together. "So how was it in that house when you were a kid?"

Max visibly blanched. "It was fine. Why?"

"All good memories?" Dean pushed. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?"

Max was clearly flustered.

He shook his head. "What do ya….. why do you ask?"

"Just a question," Dean shrugged casually.

"No, there was nothing," Max said. "We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good," Dean smiled easily, and I knew he was planning something.

"Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off."

"Right," Sam looked at Dean.

"Thanks," I told Max.

He watched us leave from his porch.

~Supernatural~

We walked down the drive to stand beside the Impala.

"No one's family is totally normal and happy," Dean snorted. "See when he was talking about his old house?"

"He sounded scared," Sam flicked the hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah, Max isn't telling us everything," Dean glanced at his house. "I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers."

~Supernatural~

We stood on the footpath, talking to a man in his front yard.

"Have you lived in this neighborhood very long?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah, almost twenty years now," The man nodded amiably. "It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?"

"No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street, I believe." Sam looked expectantly at him.

"Yeah, the Millers," Dean said casually. "They had a little boy called Max."

"Right." Sam seconded.

"I remember," the man's mouth pulled down. "The brother had a place next door. So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid okay?"

We stared at him.

"What do you mean?" Sam demanded.

"Well, in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street," he shook his head sadly. "He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of."

My eyes widened in horror.

Poor, poor Max.

"This was going on regularly?" Sam searched the man's face.

"Practically every day," he answered.

"In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, didn't lift a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good."

Bile rose in my throat.

"Now you said stepmother," Dean kept his tone level.

"I think his real mother died," the man said thoughtfully. "Some sorta….. accident. Car accident, I think."

Sam held his hand to his head, grimacing.

"Are you ok there?" The man eyed him concernedly.

"Uh, yeah," Sam winced.

Dean held an arm out to Sam, nodding at me to cover his other side.

"Thank you for your time," he said distractedly.

I was there in a trice.

We turned to go, both of us supporting Sam.

"God." He moaned, and we gripped him tighter.

His eyes rolled back in his head.

~Supernatural~

"Max is doing it," Sam massaged his temples. "Everything I've been seeing."

"You sure about this?" Dean looked at him skeptically.

"Yeah, I saw him."

"How's he pulling it off?" Dean wondered.

"I don't know, telekinesis?" Sam shrugged.

"What, so he's psychic, a spoon bender?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"I didn't even realize it," Sam ignored Dean.

"This whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his dad died, outside the apartment when his uncle died. All this time, I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is, I don't get why, man. I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean scoffed. "The dude's nothing like you."

"Well." Sam pursed his lips. "We both have psychic abilities, we both…"

"Both what?" Dean demanded. "Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third."

"With what he went through, Dean, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, but it doesn't sound insane."

I agreed with Sam.

"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean," I said softly.

"What?" He snapped.

"If you'd gone through something like that, wouldn't you want to make them pay?"

He froze, then angrily said, "He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max," Sam set his jaw.

"Then what?" Dean scowled. "Hand him over to the cops and say 'lock him up officer, he kills with the power of his mind'?"

"No way. Forget it." Sam looked stubbornly at Dean.

He turned off the engine. "Sam…"

"Dean, he's a person," Sam reasoned. "We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

There was a long pause. "All right, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

Dean removed his Taurus pistol from the glove compartment, glaring at Sam and opening the door.

We went in.

~Supernatural~

We burst through the front door.

Max and his mother were at a standoff.

"Fathers?" His mother asked, bewildered.

"What are you doing here?" Max's eyes narrowed.

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," Dean said smoothly.

"Max, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam's tone was unhurried and calm.

"About what?" Max looked at us suspiciously.

"It's…it's private," I stammered. "We wouldn't want to bother your mother with it," I continued.

"We won't be long at all though, I promise," I told Ms. Miller, quelling my dislike for her.

Max looked at her, then back. "Ok."

"Great." Sam's relief was apparent.

We turned for the door, and Max followed us.

Dean grasped the doorknob, and Max caught sight of the gun in Dean's waistband.

The knob was pulled from Dean's hand, and the door slammed shut.

Max backed up. "You're not priests," he said.

Dean drew his gun, but Max jerked it away, sliding it across the floor and picking it up.

He pointed the muzzle at us.

"Max, what's happening?" Ms. Miller looked at him, alarmed.

"Shut up," Max said curtly.

"What are you doing?"

Max flung his mother backwards, and her head hit the kitchen bench with an ominous crack.

Ms. Miller fell to the floor, unconscious.

"I said shut up!" He roared.

"Max, calm down," Sam tried to placate him.

"Who are you?" He cocked the gun.

"We just wanna talk," I kept my voice steady.

"Yeah right, that's why you brought this!" The pistol moved.

"That was a mistake, all right?" Sam's voice was frantic. "So was lying about who we were. But no more lying, Max, ok? Just please, hear us out."

"About what?" Max growled.

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened."

Max stared at him. "What?"

"I'm having visions, Max. About you." Sam pulled me forward.

"Odette sees them, too."

Max slowly shook his head. "You're crazy."

"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his eye.

"Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do."

"Let us help you, Max," I pleaded, aching for the tortured boy before me.

A tear fell down his cheek. "What would you know? You're pretty and people probably like you everywhere you go. How could you possibly understand? No one can help me."

I flinched. "That doesn't mean I'm happy, Max. I've got daddy issues myself."

I heard the twin inhalations from Sam and Dean as I automatically traced the thin scar just below my elbow.

"Let me try," Sam said. "We'll talk, you and me. We'll get Dean and Alice and Odette out of here."

"Uh-uh. No way," Dean glared at Sam.

Overhead, the chandelier began to shake.

"Nobody leaves this house!" Max shouted, and a vein stuck out in his neck.

"And nobody has to, all right?" Sam's tone was light, soothing. "They'll just…they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, I'm not leaving you alone with him." Dean crossed his arms.

"Yes, you are." Sam turned to Max.

"Look, Max, you're in charge, here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything you don't want to do, but I'm talking five minutes here, man."

"Sam!" Dean moved as if to grab him, but I pulled him back.

Max looked back at his stepmother. "Five minutes?"

The chandelier stopped shaking.

"Go."

~Supernatural~

I stared in horror.

We hadn't been able to get through to Max.

The gun, in midair, turned to point at Alice.

"Max. No." She trembled, backing away from him.

Dean stepped in front of her.

Nails cutting into my palms, I did the same.

I caught something like approval in Dean's eyes, and that boosted my courage.

"Stay back," Max warned us. "It's not about you."

Dean gritted his teeth. "You're going to kill her, you gotta go through me first."

"Ok."

I shook, inching closer to Dean.

The door burst open, and Sam ran in.

"Castiel busted me out," he told us, slightly nonsensically.

"Don't do this!" Sam begged Max.

"Don't! Please. Please. Max. Max. We can help you. All right. But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not going to fix anything."

Max was a mess. He was shaking, sweaty, in tears.

He stared at Sam, anguished.

Suddenly, he relaxed, lowering the gun.

Sam smiled at him, but somehow, I knew what was going to happen.

I tried to run to Max, but Dean grabbed me.

The gun swung to point at Max.

He shot himself in the head.

"NO!"

~Supernatural~

"Max attacked me." Ms. Miller shook, hiding her face in the couch. "He threatened me with a gun."

The cop indicated us. "And these three?"

She glanced at us quickly. "They're…family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?" The cop looked at us calculatingly.

We exchanged looks.

Ms. Miller began to cry, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know. He showed up with it and…."

She broke down.

"It's all right, Ms. Miller."

But it wasn't, because one innocent, tortured boy was dead, and no one would ever know what really happened.

That the victim had never been Ms. Miller.

She sobbed. "I've lost everyone."

Contempt for Alice rose up inside me, hot and angry.

If she'd done something, even a little, to show Max she'd cared, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe.

Maybe, one unloved little boy, who'd been beaten all his life, might have thought he still had a reason to live.

The last thing I heard as we left the house was Alice Miller's broken wail.

Whew! That took too long! I am tired!

Reviews are love!