I do not own anything from Supernatural.

Lucy sat alone at the kitchen counter in her house. She was finishing her math homework. Well, it looked like she was to her mother, who was folding laundry in the other room. Lucy was tapping her pen subconsciously along with the song playing, but was really thinking about the article that had been written about her in the National Press.

No one at school would look at her the same. They all thought she had had a psychotic break. Nice little Lucy Kain, fell off her rocker. No one saw it coming. Lucy had always been rumored to be some sort of psychic. She had once predicted a fellow student's death. But still, her teachers gave her sympathetic looks, and the kids whispered in the halls. To Lucy, that was all either was good for.

The doorbell rang. It's probably another reporter. She thought to herself.

"Get the door, Mom!" She yelled. There was no answer. Lucy got up from her stool and checked the couch where her mom had been sitting. On the seat she found a note. It read:

Lucy,

I didn't want to interrupt you doing your homework. Grandma called. It was urgent. I won't be home until late. Don't wait up, baby!

Love, Mom.

Lucy groaned as the doorbell rang again. This is just like her, to leave without a single VERBAL word. I know she's not at grandmas. She's probably out with her friends, living' it up. The doorbell rang again. Lucy threw her head back in anger.

Sam rang the doorbell to Lucy Kain's house for the fourth time. Dean shot him a nervous glance.

Suddenly the door was flung open by a tall, thin girl with brown floppy curls and eyes greener than the forests of Washington. At least, that's what her grandmother had always told her.

"What?" She snapped at them. The two exchanged a look.

"I'm Phil Ehart, and this is Richard Williams. We're from the Detroit Press, and we were hoping to get a word with Lucy Kain." The girl opened the door wider and they stepped inside.

"Phil Ehart?" The girl eyed Dean. "That's a very familiar name."

"Yes, well, you've probably read one of my articles." Dean flashed his top smile. "Now, may we speak with Lucy Kain?"

"This is she," Lucy said as she sat back down on her stool and opened her laptop. Dean glanced around the kitchen nervously. "Have a seat." She offered.

"Thank you," Sam said as he pulled up a stool. "So, tell us, what, exactly, happened that night?" Sam didn't have to say which night he was talking about. Lucy visibly stiffened.

"Don't you read? I had a psychotic break, ran away, eight miles, from my home, got cut on branches running through the forest, and fell in mud because it was raining." Lucy shook her head as if she were disagreeing.

"You don't believe that, do you?" Sam said, more as a statement than a question. Lucy stopped typing and closed her eyes, like thinking about it physically hurt her.

"I'm crazy. Who cares what I believe?"

"We care." Dean spoke up. "All we want is the truth." There was a moment of silence as Lucy thought about it.

"Okay," She finally said. "It was late, and I was in my room. I was home alone. My mom was out doing God knows what with her friends. I was freaking out because of the storm. Well, not the storm, it was;" She stopped. "Oh. I really am crazy." She grimaced. Sam reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You aren't crazy. Just tell us what happened." She opened her eyes and glances between them.

"I wasn't scared because of the storm. I was scared because I could feel something coming. For me."