I skipped around a bit here; this is a mostly boring filler. Good news though, Jack next chapter- and the boring stuff is over.
Note, and this may change, this story is supposed to be set about two years after the movie. So Jamie and Jack have an arrangement about winter- the first snow day of the year, Jack always visits. The rest of the days of winter are debateable. He is busy as a Guardian, after all.
The Bennett's house was a cheerful shade of red, with white trim; a wide porch, attached garage, brick chimney, and two window dormers.
Sam looked up at it through the car window, her face betraying none of her thoughts. Burgess was smaller than she had anticipated, the only real points of interest she had seen on their drive in were a small park in the town square and a half-glimpsed glimmer of water through the tree line.
There were no outward signs of the magic Amay had mentioned- just the typical variety of mainstream smalltown America. Except- that small pond. She'd seen it for half a moment, but there was something there. Something special, that waited... waited for what?
"Coming, Samantha?" Mrs. Bennett's soft voice interupted Sam's swirling thoughts. She flushed, dismissing her musings.
"Yes- I'll bring my things in in a minute."
"Alright. I'll have lunch in the kitchen if you want anything."
Sam suppressed the urge to arch an eyebrow in suprise. That was unexpected.
"Thanks." She said, getting out of the car and walking around to the back. Jamie, book in hand, looked at her with hopeful eyes.
"I'll tell you tonight," Sam said quietly. "When your parents aren't around. They wouldn't believe me anyway."
Jamie grinned. "You're cool. I thought you'd be depressing and stuff, but you're awesome." He told her, and ran into the house.
Well, thanks, Sam thought wryly, opening the door to get her stuff. The honesty of children- it knows no bounds. But, again, her thoughts turned to the small pond. It held some special meaning- she could feel it, see the faint signs of magic lingering there.
Angrily, Sam shook her head. Her sight and the intuition that followed it had cursed her life- and she would not ruin this placement, the one chance for a normal, happy life she had be given in a long time, by looking for trouble. Literally.
The Nightmares, she couldn't help- they gathered around her always; and Amay she wouldn't give up. But she could, and would, choose to ignore any magic that might be in Burgess. Hopefully, this time, the shadows would leave her.
And if they didn't- if they came seeking her again- she would run. As she always did.
Decision made, and metaphysical worries asseauged, Sam slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing the rest, and shut the car door. Well, welcome home.
Within the first fifteen minutes, Jamie had enthusiastically introduced her to everyone avaliable in the house- his little blonde sister Sophie- who was adorable- an aging greyhound called Abby- who was wary of Sam- and a half dozen of his freinds whose names Sam couldn't remember just yet, before Mrs. Bennett had called halt and directed Sam to the guest- now her- room.
Gratefully, Sam had retreated upstairs and closed the door, dumping her stuff on the floor and flopping face down onto the bed. It was a lot to process- and it seemed to be to good to be true.
First of all, the Bennetts were more welcoming than her own family. Their children believed- both of them. And she if she was an extra, she wasn't an outcast, either.
They'd put her in the guest room, a cozy if bland place, with a soft full bed, bookshelf, desk, dresser, and one of the window dormers, which Sam had opened fully to catch any hint of a breeze. They'd invited her to eat with them- and not just dinner. They'd been kind, and un-pushy.
It was all she could ask for- and it felt like a home. And that scared her. Her only home had been erased- any place that felt like home, she had to leave.
Groaning, Sam rolled off the bed to put her stuff away. The box was full of books; fantasy novels, history books, the classics, and collections of myths; all cheap paperbacks and library discards falling apart through much use.
Sam could care less about other belongings; her books were her treasures. Lovingly, she carefully placed each one on the shelf at the end of the room, making sure that none of them were in any danger of further damage and in proper order before going back to put away her tragically small wardrobe.
Even after that, she still felt disoriented and confused. A home was an alien concept. To have one thrust in her face was both freeing and frightening.
Sam sat crosslegged on the floor before the window, staring out at the sky and trying very hard not to think about it. She had one; that was enough, without bringing any thing else into it.
With that in mind, Sam got up and went down to join the Bennetts.
The last week of summer passed quickly- but Amay was as good as her promise, and Sam spent it in the company of her freind, knowing that soon, Amay would be forced away for the next six months, at the least.
But despite her apparent reticience, Sam had fallen into the Bennett's home like she belonged. Burgess felt like her home, the Bennetts like her real family.
She took care of both Jamie and Sophie during the frequent nights when both parents had to work late, she babysat their freinds. By the time a few weeks had passed, she had quite a little group of admirers, due to the stories she told them. And if she lacked freinds among her own age group, well, she really preferred the younger children.
But none of them even guessed that the stories that enchanted them were true- or that Sam knew the characters her core group of listeners believed in were real. And Sam refused to tell them that she knew.
Old habits die hard- and children talk. Besides, what she could see was dangerous, and ignorance was a protection. Sam had learned that the shadows could usually harm none but her- because she saw them, and believed. If the children, particularly the two Sam had come to regard as her younger sibs, could see them too, then they would be in danger.
Besides, there was no reason to tell them. And if the Nightmares still came every night, then at least she slept through them.
It was now November, and far, far too early to be this cold, in Sam's opinion. Already, her fellow students were talking about snow. Obviously, three years in the southwest had not done her any favors in preparing for the winters of Burgess, Pennsylvania.
Hurrying down the sidewalk to the house from her bus stop, she muttered curses under her breath as the chill wind blew open her coat for the third time. It was a bleak day, with a slate gray sky, icy wind, and dreary color scheme of dead browns and shades of gray.
Right now, all Sam wanted was to get home, and get a mug of something hot and a book. Shoes slapping on the pavement, Sam broke into a jog before running up the back path to the backyard.
Carefully, she eased through the two loose boards that Jamie had showed her proudly before climbing the porch steps and hurrying indoors. Relived, Sam sighed at the warmth blasting from the heater.
She slid off her backpack- new, a gift from Mrs. Bennett- and unbuttoned her coat, also new, throwing it over the back of a chair in the kitchen.
"Jamie?" she called. The younger boy ususally got home before her, and so it was Sam's job to watch him, make dinner, and pick up Sophie most nights. She didn't mind- Jamie and Soph were good kids. Most of the time.
"In here," Was the reply. Sam followed the voice into the den, where Jamie was absorbed in the computer screen. She peered at it.
"Checking the weather report again?" She asked. "You know the forecasters are never accurate."
Jamie shrugged and grinned. "I just can't wait for snow! The first snowfall of the year's always a snow day, and I can't wait!"
Sam snorted humorously. "Neither can I. It'll be so nice to sleep in for a change." She walked over to the window. "It's certainly cold enough out there." Then she turned back to Jamie. "What do you want for dinner? I'm cooking again."
"Nooo!" Jamie said, mock-disparingly. "Anything but eating your food again!"
Sam laughed. "You weren't complaining the last time I cooked. Tomato soup alright?"
Jamie shrugged in reply. "Alright, tomato soup it is. Go do your homework so I can check it."
"Yes, Mom," Jamie said.
Sam laughed again before going back out into the hall. She walked to the kitchen, grabbed her backpack, and dragged it up to what was now undisputably her room.
The once bland room had been livened up by the addition of several posters and a few quilts; a few little knick-nacks that had been given to her by Jamie's freinds adorned a shelf. It was a minimal presence, but the room was warm and welcoming.
Sam set the backpack down, next to her desk, and went back downstairs to start dinner. Sophie would be dropped off from daycare soon, and Sam wanted to make sure dinner was ready by then.
Within a couple hours, Sophie had arrived, dinner had been served, eaten, and night had descended. Sam had put little Sophie to bed after dinner, and was now checking Jamie's spelling homework as the boy stared anxiously out the window, looking for what, Sam didn't know.
Finishing the last word, Sam called him over from the window. "Good job. You got those two wrong, but other than that, you're perfect."
"Thanks." Jamie set to work correcting his mistakes on the paper Sam handed back to him, but his eyes kept darting back to the window. Sam watched him curiously.
"What are you looking for?" She asked. Jamie's gaze flicked to her, guiltily. "Nothing," He replied.
Sam arched an eyebrow in disbelief, but said nothing. When he finished, Sam sent him to bed and turned to her own homework, returning to her own room.
It was creeping toward ten as she fought through several Algebra problems, sleep creeping up on her. Frustrated and tired, Sam laid her head down on her desk and closed her eyes for a moment.
I'll finish this in the morning, she decided as she nearly fell asleep again. Lord knows I'm not getting anything done now.
Slowly, fighting to keep her eyes open, Sam closed the book and put it away, flicking off the lamp.
Instantly the room was shrouded in gloom. With a sigh of relief, Sam slid into bed, relaxing instantly as her eyes fluttered shut. The last thing she saw were a few snowflakes drift past her window- and, for some reason, that made her smile as she drifted off to sleep.
Oddly, that night, the Nightmares neglected to come.