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~Christianne
Nikki POV
I was leaning on the concrete wall, eyes closed and face towards the sun.
"Look at him," Sam said as the paramedic that had been looking at his head left. "He's getting better at it."
I felt someone nudge me, and I opened my eyes. Andy was walking over to us.
"She won't even look at me." Andy said, looking over his shoulder at Tracy.
"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up." Sam confirmed.
"No, it's—this is different. This is—I-I never used my mind thing on her before, before last night." He paused and sighed. "She's scared of me now."
I saw Dean and Sam share a look. "Andy, I hate to do this, but, um…We have to get out of here." Sam said. "Here, wrote down my cell, Nik's too." He said, handing Andy a scrap of paper.
"You don't have to be alone in this, all right?" Sam added, glancing at me. "If anything comes up, call us up."
With that, Sam, Dean and I started back to where the Impala was parked.
"Wh-What am I supposed to do now?" Andy called after us shakily.
"You be good, Andy…Or we'll be back." Sam said, implying the rest with a glance at Dean.
"You ok, Nik?" Dean asked, nudging my arm. I shrugged.
I hadn't said much since last night when I killed Weber. The coroner's words kept running around in my head.
"You're a hero, you know that, right?" Sam asked, looking at me with those blue and hazel eyes that made me feel better. I shrugged again.
"Saved that girl's life, saved my life, Sam's life, Andy's life-" Dean started to list off.
"I killed someone, Dean." I snapped quietly, crossing my arms tight over my chest.
"He was a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho." Dean countered. "You were pushed into it."
"I still killed someone." I mumbled, looking at my shoes as we walked.
You were pushed into it.
Maybe that's what the demon wants, to push us to the point of murder.
Sam brought up what Dean said under Andy's mind control, and while they fought like a couple of ten year olds, I got in the back of the car, the coroners words still running around my head.
"Twenty-two years on the job, and I've never seen anything like this." He mumbled to the sheriff, shaking his head as he pulled the sheet over Weber's face.
"Poor boy got his eyes burned out."
Normally, when I was dreaming, I didn't know I was dreaming.
But now, I knew I was dreaming.
I sat up in bed and looked around the motel room. Sam was still sound asleep in the next bed, Dean was sprawled out on his stomach on the creaky, saggy sofa bed across from us; fully clothed and on top of the covers.
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, confused as to why I was dreaming of exactly where I was.
"I have a bone to pick with you, Nikki dear."
I scrambled out of bed, grabbing my knife off the floor as I did so, looking around for the source of the twisted, chilling, familiar voice. I found him, leaning against the wall; Sam's bed separating us.
"You just can't seem to fall into place, can you?" The Yellow-Eyed demon chuckled, cocking his head to one side.
"What do you want?" I asked, taking a deep breath, trying to keep calm. I didn't want an episode like the Roadhouse in the motel room.
"Want? Oh, nothing, nothing at all." He assured me, getting up from the wall he was leaning on and going to the table where he started to page through John's journal. "Did you know that you can't read in dreams?" He asked randomly. Yellow-Eyes seemed oblivious to my tense and defensive stance.
"Something about sides of the brain," he continued, shutting the journal, mildly frustrated.
"Why are you in my head?" I demanded, my hands starting to shake at my sides.
Yellow-Eyes grinned. "Getting to know your abilities, good." I glared at him. "You've been noticing it, haven't you? The easier it is to make things happen." I raised one eyebrow, just slightly. "I can't give you all the credit, I had a buddy of mine who owed me a favor give you a little jump start."
"Your abilities are actually what I came here to talk to you about." He admitted. "You, by far, are the child showing the most potential. Don't get me wrong, Sam is still at the top of my list, you're just at the top of a different one. You're more of a doer, not a planner." Yellow-Eyes mussed, walking towards me.
"But that doesn't give you a free pass for killing your brother." He added, a disappointed look on his face.
"What?" I asked, confused. I didn't have any brothers. Chris wasn't my real brother, and he was in Afghanistan anyway, it's not like I could kill him.
"Ansem, or, Weber, I guess." Yellow-Eyes explained. "Now, I'm not saying he didn't take a few things to far, but c'mon, you didn't have kill the guy."
"He was going to make Dean blow his own brains out!" I defended myself suddenly, my voice raised.
"Like I said, he took things too far." Yellow-Eyes said with a simple shrug. "But killing one of my best and brightest…You're not going to slip by with just a slap on the wrist like last time."
"A slap on the wrist?" I asked, laughing a little, humorlessly. "Making me watch as you burn a image of Chris was a slap on the wrist?"
"Yes, it was." Yellow-Eyes confirmed casually, a twisted little smile making its way onto his face. "I'm disappointed in you, Nikki." He sighed a moment later. "Killing Ansem, that's one thing. But not telling your sweet sweet Sammy about any of this?"
Shaking his head, he made a little 'tsk tsk' sound as he went back to lean on the wall by Sam's bed.
"How do you expect to have a healthy relationship, let alone rule Hell, if you aren't honest with each other?"
"R-Rule Hell?" I asked, my voice shaking. I remember Meg saying that'd I'd be in Hell with her, if she was working for Yellow-Eyes, maybe she was actually telling the truth.
"Oh, that's only the tip of the ice berg, my little Concuoivi."
I woke up with a gasp. I shot up in bed, my hands shaking.
I inhaled deeply through my nose, and when I let it out, all hell broke loose in the motel room.
The TV turned on, skipping channels at lightning speed, volume going up and down and filled with static. The lights started to flicker on and off before the bulbs burst. A breeze seemed to pick up in the room, making papers and blankets flap around the room. A lamp or two flew off the tables and shattered. I think one of the boys had to duck to avoid getting hit with something that shattered against the wall.
This continued until I'd let my breath out completely and my fists relaxed.
By the time I was done, both Sam and Dean where awake, and holding their hands over theirs ears, pained expressions on their faces.
"What, in the name God, was that?" I heard Sam say from his bed. I slowly looked up from my lap, and saw both Winchester brothers staring at me. Dean had his gun out, which made me feel uneasy.
"I-I…" I trailed off, feeling my heart start to sprint. I swallowed loudly, looking between the brothers wide eyed. "Sorry?" I finally got out.
I gnawed on my lip as I sat on the curb next to the Impala.
This wasn't right. All of this. A week ago making a pen float two inches off a table gave me the mother of all headaches and a nosebleed. Now, I was blowing out light bulbs and smashing vases.
I eyed a piece of trash a few feet in front of me. I guess this was as good a time as any to test this new-found power out. Starting small, I didn't spend any time concentrating, I just tipped my chin up a little.
The half-smashed beer can shot up in the air so high I lost track of where it went.
"Wow." I said simply, looking up at the sky to see if I could see it come back down.
"Wow what?" I heard Sam say from behind me.
"Nothing." I said, shrugging it off.
"So, are you gonna tell us why you went all Wicca on us?" I heard Dean ask, opening the trunk and tossing his duffle bag in it.
"Bad dream." I said simply. "Woke up, and I guess part of me didn't know it was over." I think Dean and Sam kept talking, but I wasn't listening. I was staring at the ground between my raised knees.
Move. I thought, staring at the gravel. Some of the larger stones started to vibrate.
Stop. The stones stopped rattling as the thought crossed my mind.
"I want to go back to Janesville." I blurted out, looking up from the gravel. Sam and Dean where talking to each other across the Impala.
"What?" Sam asked simply, like he didn't hear me.
"I-I—" I cut off with a groan and scrubbed my face with my hands. "I wanna go home." I said honestly, shrugging a little.
"You wanna go back? Last time you went back to that palace 'ya got in Pennsylvania, you drove halfway across the country-without telling us-to go to an impromptu bonfire in your hometown." Dean stated. "Time before that, you ditched the place to go hunt vampires.—Seems like whenever you go here, 'ya don't stay there long."
Sam, who'd walked around to lean on the same side of the Impala as Dean, gave his brother a sharp shove. I, on the other hand, just ignored his insensitivity.
I stood up and brushed my jeans off. "I, just spent all night with friggen' Yellow-Eyes digging around in my head." They looked at me, shocked. "And not for the first time, either!"
"I don't wanna talk about it, he didn't say anything I, or you guys already didn't know. He just pissed and whined that I—I—killed that Ansem guy. He kept saying that this was gonna be more than a slap on the damn wrist." I said sharply.
"On top'a that, I can't control the Wicca running around inside me." I kept going, ignoring their blank, shocked expressions. "I didn't want to kill the guy, especially in the twisted way that I did. I don't even know how I did it. I just did it! I'm totally with this whole idea that all of the demon's 'special children' aren't killers, but I didn't even think about burning the guy's eyes out and turning his brain to pudding! I, just, did it.
"So, yeah, Dean, I wanna go back home. I wanna go back to my safe, iron locked, salt in the walls, magic room in the basement, creepy cemetery in the backyard, home that I have in Janesville." I finished, mildly out of breath from how much, and how (for lack of a better word) passionately I'd spoken.
"Now, are you two going to drive me or am I going to take the bus again?" I asked.
It took a second for Sam and Dean to regain movement.
"No, no don't take the bus. We'll drive you." Dean said gruffly, getting in the driver's seat and starting the car.
I couldn't make myself look at Sam as I walked to the car. He did, however, catch my shoulder before I got in the car. It wasn't hard for him to reach over the door, not just cause he was tall, he had long arms too.
"'Not for the first time'?" He quoted me, looking…Well, he looked a little hurt.
"I told you." I said honestly. "'bout a week ago. When I was screaming in my sleep."
"Yeah, but you didn't tell me that the demon was actually in your head." He said, the concern more evident in his voice.
Dean honked the horn twice. "Get in, or get otta my way!"
"Sam," I said, awkwardly reaching over the door to grab the back of his jacket as he got in.
"Hey, I didn't lie to you." I said quickly, honestly. "You two have enough to worry about, my dreams are the last thing you needed to have running around in your head, ok? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."
Sam had a tight look on his face, but he begrudgingly nodded. He didn't say anything as he got in the passenger's seat, but he did send me an understanding little half-smile in the rear view mirror. I sent him one back as I settled into my seat for the long ride back to Pennsylvania.
A loud crash made Dean slam on the breaks. "What the hell was that?" He asked, both him and Sam looking out the windows.
I did too. Out the back, I saw what I can only call a crater. About two feet in diameter, broken pieces of asphalt and concrete around the edges, and a crushed (even more than before) beer can in the center.
"I dunno." I said, shrugging as I settled back into the seats. After a few more seconds of looking through the side mirrors (I think the crater was in a blind spot), we started towards Janesville again.