"I have these nightmares." Sam swallowed, trying to formulate the best way to explain things to his brother. The best way to spill his secret, and not have the reaction he feared the most for. Figure out a way for this not to end with Dean staring at him with a hatred that rivaled his own inward feelings.
"I've noticed." Sam saw the slight shift where Dean flipped from annoyed confused to seriously confused.
"And sometimes, they come true." Sam exhaled, the memory of the nightmares leading up to Danny's death flickered briefly in his mind.
"Come again?" Dean asked, a breathy laugh leaving him in disbelief.
"Look Dean, I dreamt about Danny's death for days before it happened." Sam confessed, meeting Dean's eyes. He needed him to believe him, he needed Dean to be on the same page as him and not make all this as weird as it is.
"Sane people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's a coincidence." Sam tracked Dean's movements as he
settled on the motel bed. They wouldn't even be having this conversation if Sam's latest dream hadn't happened. But it did, so right now all he needed was for them to get moving and make sure those innocent lives stay that way.
"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, him on the ceiling, the fire, everything. And I didn't do anything cause I didn't believe it." Sam took a quick deep breath, before continuing. The guilt curled harshly around his heart, but right now he needed to focus on the people he can save. "Now I'm dreaming about that tree, our house, and some woman inside screaming for help. I mean that's where it all started. This has to mean something, right." Sam's leash on his emotions slipping with every word, and with every one he could see his brother finally taking his words with weight.
"I don't know." The response spiked a shot of annoyance through Sam.
"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. This might even be the thing that killed mom and Danny-"
"Alright, just slow down, will ya?" Desperation clawed at Sam's chest at the laugh Dean gave. He needed him to believe him. Need him to genuinely believe him more than he realized. Fear slowly slipped beside his other raging emotions, and Sam did everything he could to try and just focus on Dean's words. "First you're telling me that you've got the shine, and then you tell me that I've got to go back home, especially when..."
"When what?" Sam urged.
"When I swore to myself I would never go back there."
Even with Dean's self-promise they went. They went because that was their job, protecting people, even when it was hard for them to do it. The family seemed nice enough as is, normal and simple.
When her daughter, Sari, mentioned the thing in her closet the idea of Sam's dream being real finally seemed to settle between the two. A figure on fire. The similarities between both deaths wasn't lost on either of them. The talk was short, mostly looking around the obvious areas.
They had to get the family out as fast as possible.
Dean's resistance, and seemingly numbness to it all irked Sam in a way that only Dean could do. Hearing his older brother retelling what he remembered from that night, it hit him. His brother had carried him out of the burning building. Protected him that night. Just like he seemed to try and do every turn of the way. Even when Sam fought him along it.
Regardless, digging around they found a name. Missouri Mosely. She seemed like a missing key to trying to figure out what was going on.
She wasn't what they expected, up-front about the truth with them, lying in the face of her customers solely in the name of what they paid her for.
"Oh, honey. I'm sorry about your boyfriend." That phrase had surprised Sam. "And your father, he's missing?"
"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked, watching her face for any tell of deception.
"Well, you were just thinking it, just now." Sam was, with the case and everything it was hard not to. But for a stranger he never met to just know that immediately with the touch of his hand was more than a little jarring.
"Well where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asked, jumping in.
"I don't know."
"You don't know? How can you not know, you're a psychic aren't you?"
"Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" The look in Dean's face at Mosely's response was enough to make Sam like her a little bit. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit! Please." Sam's smile couldn't drop even if he wanted it to.
The case was taxing, in more ways than one. Almost dying, being attacked by flying knives, or strangled by a cord. Sam being tossed around like a ragdoll. Seeing their mother again, even if only for a small moment. Unlike other cases they've had, this was settled heavily in Sam's mind. In Dean's as well.
Nonetheless, they settled at a motel nearby for the night. To rest physically and mentally from it all. They knew the house was one-hundred percent cleansed this time around. The mother's spirit is gone with the poltergeist.
Sam smiled at the look of fondness on Dean's face as they finally settled to look through the box of memories they were given. It had been stowed away in the attic, the new owner found it when she was rooting around for junk to trash.
Sam's eyes flipped through the varying images, stills from memories he didn't have even with them documented. Dean laughed at some of them, spouting small tidbits he could remember about it. Never enough to get the full picture, but enough to make Sam's heartache.
"I remember this ball, it was my first homerun." Dean grinned, holding up a beaten and battered baseball. A nearly just as battered small glove came with it, placed along to the side with the photos.
"A homerun in the backyard with Dad doesn't count." Sam retorted, eyes trailing over the mess of scraps at the bottom.
"Hey, we had to go over three houses to find it."
"Dean- What?" Sam's original quip died in his throat, immediately his hand reached into the box, pulling out a trinket no larger than a marble.
"I don't remember that." Dean's confused voice cut through Sam's thoughts. Sam on the other hand was stuck between his mind running a mile a minute and being completely frozen. "Sammy?"
"I know this." Sam forced the words out, rolling the small object around his palm. The edges were rough, indents laced various parts of it, but the color and cool feeling was a memory Sam wouldn't expect to lose anytime soon.
"From where? Dude, it's even glowing slightly." And Dean was right, if Sam focused enough on where the edges met his hand a soft white seemed to fade into his skin. His mind vaguely reminded him of the slight glow around his mother when she finally revealed herself to them.
"Danny had something like this." Sam swallowed, meeting Dean's confused gaze. "It was larger, the shape of a heart, but it had the same blue color, the same smokey white in the center." Sam explained, holding it between two fingers to let Dean analyze it. Even though he didn't want to, he let Dean take hold of it.
"Why the hell would Danny have something like this?"
"He said he got it from a friend, someone named..." Sam paused, mind rolling through his memories. He remembered the heart stayed rested on the coffee table, used mostly as a paperweight and decoration. The person who made it, they didn't talk about him that much. "Frostbite, he was finding a way to make long-lasting ice."
"Sure feels like ice." Dean grumbled, eyes narrowing towards the cold object. Dean paused, pulling away before dropping it on the box. "Hold on."
"What?" Sam questioned, following Dean's movements as he pulled the EMF reader from the duffel bag on the table. "EMF? Are you kidding me?" Sam glared, watching him come back over. Why would he immediately go for that?
"Look, Sammy, this was in the ghostly hotspot of houses." Dean briefly explained, pulling the antenna out before pausing to finish. "Just checking to see if there's residue on it." The older Winchester shrugged at the look Sam gave him. He smirked before flipping it on, the smirk immediately dropping from his features.
The EMF went crazy the moment it powered on, the lights lit up as if in a hotspot. The loud squeal filled silence before Dean flipped it off. Sam looked at his brother, confusion filled every aspect of his features and Sam was certain it mirrored his own. Why would this have that high of a reading? They rarely ever got that loud of a reading unless it was from a haunted item or the spirit itself.
"Dude." Sam grounded out when the squealing filled the air again. This time Dean walked away from the item, and the further he got the quieter it settled. "Dean." Sam tried again, Dean sighed. Quickly shutting it off and dropping it on the table on his way back.
"Had to make sure it wasn't busted." Dean replied, settling in his seat again and staring down at the small orb. "This thing is definitely radiating massive ghostly energy. Did Danny's do the same thing?" Sam would have rolled his eyes if the idea that he had something just like this before wasn't a jarring thought
"We never tested it." Sam replied, meeting Dean's gaze. "Question is, what the hell is it?"
"And why the hell did Danny get one as a gift?"