Nikki POV

It took me just over two days to get to get back to Janesville. I stopped in Ohio for the night when I couldn't make myself drive anymore. I called Sam and told him where I was. He told me that he and Dean had found Ellen, and that she'd given them a job. Then, he asked me if I still had my knife with me, and if I salted the windows and doors.

Which, of course I did.

After I slept for nine hours I started driving again, not stopping until I was in front of my huge house. I grabbed my bags and dug my key out from the bottom of my backpack to unlocked the heavy door. I slammed it behind me, locked the newer deadbolt and the iron locks before turning to the large foyer.

It was the same, high ceilings, the large expanse of the floor empty, showing the hardwood and marble inlays of the floor, the empty coat rack next to the door, everything. I kicked off my shoes and sent Sam a text, letting him know I made it back to Janesville.

I wasn't sure what to do.

I showered and pulled on clean clothes, then brought my duffle bag down to the basement to start a load of laundry.

It was weird. For the last two weeks I felt like I'd been on high alert. Now, being home, being safe, I didn't know what to do with myself.

I put my read and done-with books back on the shelves in the Magic Room, as I'd come to call it, and brought my new ones up with me, planning on going up to my room and try to make my phone float to me from my desk across to my bed without getting a nosebleed.

As I passed the third floor I paused, remembering the pictures I'd developed what seemed so long ago. They were still hanging on the strings across my makeshift dark room. I never got to see them.

I dropped my books on the stairs and headed to the smaller guest room. When I opened the door I froze.

It was like a bomb went off in the center of the room. The floor was covered in the thin red and clear glass from the light bulbs, the tables where overturned and thrown across the room. The various developing chemicals where all over the floor, making ugly stains and somewhat dissolving the carpet and hardwood floor. The bed and other furniture that was already in the room was in the same condition, thrown around, smashed into walls and just destroyed. The curtains where thrown around, stuck on the detailing on the walls and letting light in.

There were piles of ash on the floor. I carefully made my way over to them, stepping over splintered wood and broken glass, and picked through a pile that didn't look as burned as the others. I found a corner of a paper and saw what looked like tree branches.

My pictures.

I slowly back out of the room and shut the door, locking it from the outside at a glacial pace. After I sprinted down the stairs to the kitchen, I ran back up to the third floor to make a nice thick salt line in front of the door.

It'd been a few days since I'd gotten back to Janesville, and I was just getting back to my house after my second four mile run in three days.

It was amazing, actually. I'd fallen out of shape since high school (last time I was in any sort of physical shape) and I'd been able to, on my first time, practically sprint three miles. I think it was a Jane-soul binding-Wicca thing and I didn't question it.

I slowed to a jog a few miles from my driveway and pushed some sweaty strands of hair out of my face, which grew a little smile as the song on my iPod changed. The heavy bass and guitar riffs of Still Got This Thing sounded through my headphones.

"Why is it so hard to say what's on my mind?

And why am I so proud?

Still got this thing for you

Hm-m…"

Alannah Myles' bluesy voice belted out the lyrics to one of my favorite songs as I turned onto the gravel drive way of my house.

"Hey baby can I carry your flame!" I sang out loud, slowing to a walk as I nodded along to song. "I wanna take you somewhere or thing. Don't you know you're drivin' me insane? Still got this thing for you!"

I kept belting out the lyrics and bobbing my head to the beat as I pulled the lanyard around my neck out of my shirt to unlock my door. I pulled one of my earbuds out as I put my key in the lock.

Just as I was about to turn it, I stopped. I pulled my other earbud out and pressed Pause on my iPod so the guitar riffs would stop blasting through my ears. Through the slight buzz in my ears from the loud music, I heard what could only be muffled talking.

The talking quickly quieted when I stopped singing. I stood in front of my open door looking out at the woods in front of my house. "Hello?" I called.

Nothing.

What did I expect? For someone to say 'Hey! We're over here!'

I sighed and shook my head as I entered my house and kicked off my running shoes; shutting and locking the door behind me.