A man drove down the street, into his garage and turned off the engine. His license plate was from Michigan. The garage door began winding down by itself and he looked at it, confused. His car doors self-locked. He struggled but couldn't open them. The ignition key turned by itself and the engine started. Exhaust smoke began filling the garage. The man struggled to turn off the engine to no avail. The radio flicked on and the man began to cough.
"Help," the man said. "Somebody help me!"
The smoke grew thicker and he keeled over, unconscious.
MOTEL ROOM
Sam started up from his bed, suddenly wide awake. He looked across to where Dean was sleeping peacefully. Sam sat a moment, then moved into action, flipping on the light switch and shook his brother and sister-in-law. "Dean. Juliette. Dean. Juliette."
The moment they stirred, Sam rose and started gathering his things.
Dean rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing man, it's the middle of the night." He raised himself on his elbows.
"We have to go," Sam told them.
"What's happening?" Juliette asked.
"We have to go. Right now." Sam grabbed his bag and walked out.
Dean helped Juliette into her wheelchair and they left the room.
---
They got in the Impala. Dean helped Juliette in. Dean was driving, Sam was on the phone, and Juliette, in back, yawned.
Sam read from a Michigan State Police ID. "McReady. Detective McReady. Badge number 158. I've got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven. Yeah, okay, just hurry."
"Sammy, relax," Dean said. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."
"It felt different, Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica."
"Yeah, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house, your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?"
"No."
"No," Juliette repeated. "Why would you have premonitions about some random guy in Michigan?"
"I don't know."
"Me neither," Dean replied.
Sam spoke into his phone. "Yes, I'm here." He listened, glared at his brother, then picked up his pen. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address? Got it. Thanks."
Sam hung up the phone. "Checks out. How far are we?"
"From Saginaw?" Dean asked. "Coupla hours."
"Drive faster."
They reached Jim Miller's house and saw emergency vehicles and someone on a stretcher being zipped into a body bag. They turned to each other in the car, Dean and Juliette concerned, Sam upset.
Dean approached the watching crowd at Jim's house and asked a woman, "What happened?"
"Suicide," the woman replied. "Can't believe it."
Sam and Juliette came up behind and th former stood on the woman's other side and Sam asked, "Did you know them?"
"Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's. He always seems... seemed, so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."
Dean stared straight ahead.
"How did... ahh," Sam began. "How are they saying it happened?"
"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running," the woman replied.
"Do you know about what time they found him?"
"Oh it just happened about an hour or two ago. His poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."
A woman stood on the front step of the house, crying and leaning against a middle-aged man. A young man stood behind them, looking distraught.
Sam watched with a grimace and turned to walk away. Dean and Juliette noticed and followed him back to lean against the hood of the Impala.
"Sam, we got here as fast as we could," Dean reassured.
"Not fast enough," Sam replied. "It doesn't make any sense, man, Jules. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"
"I dunno."
Sam shook his head and sighed. "So what do you two think killed him?"
Juliette thought a moment. "Maybe the guy killed himself? Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."
Sam shook his head. "I'm telling you two, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, Dean, Jules. I watched it trap him in the garage."
"What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?" Dean asked.
Sam started getting worked up. "I don't know what it was. I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening, Dean, Juliette."
Dean stared at Sam for a long moment and he frowned. "What."
Dean shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just, I'm just worried about you, man."
"Well, don't look at me like that!"
Dean looked away. "We're not looking at you like anything." He glanced back. "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap."
"Nice. Thanks."
Dean moved to open the car door. "Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, talk to the family."
"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."
Dean took a moment to think. "Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."
"Who?"
Dean simply smirked.
---
The next day, they made their way to the Miller house.
Dean reached out to ring the doorbell. Sam's hair was slicked back and Juliette was wearing a long black dress.
Sam sighed. "This has gotta be a whole new low for us."
Dean turned to smirk at Sam and Juliette, then looked back at the door.
The man comforting Ms. Miller on the step the night before opened the door. Sam and Dean were dressed as priests and Juliette was dressed as a nun, which amused her given her somewhat obvious baby bump.
The man gave a nod to the trio and Dean entered, saying, "Thanks."
"We're very sorry for your loss," Sam said.
"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed."
The man frowned. "Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead."
Ms. Miller appeared. "Roger. Please!"
Roger moved away. "Excuse me."
"I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's... he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"
"That would be great," Dean replied.
---
They entered the lounge room.
Dean was on the lounge, Juliette was in her wheelchair next to him, Sam in an armchair. Ms. Miller poured coffee and handed it around.
"It was wonderful of you to stop by," Ms. Miller said. "The support of the church means so much right now."
"Of course," Dean replied. "After all, we are all God's children."
She walked away and Dean took more cocktail sausages from the coffee table. As he chewed, he looked at Sam and Saoirse who were shaking their heads.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Just... tone it down a little bit, Father," Sam answered.
"So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?"
"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller replied as she grew upset. "We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy." She broke down. "I just don't understand... how Jim could do something like this."
"Do you mind if maybe the I go talk to him?" Sam asked.
"Oh, thank you, Father."
Sam approached Max in the other room and said, "Max? Hey, I'm Sam."
Dean and Juliette still with the grieving woman and the former said, "Ms. Miller, you have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?"
"We moved in about five years ago," Ms. Miller replied.
"The only problem with these old houses. I bet you have all kind of headaches."
"Like what?"
"Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night," Juliette explained. "That kind of thing."
"No, nothing like that. It's been perfect."
"Huh," Dean noted. "May I use your restroom?"
"Oh, sure, it's just up the stairs."
Dean rose, taking another cocktail sausage, motioning fi Juliette he'd be back soon.
"So what was your dad like?" Sam asked.
"Just a normal dad," Max replied, staring at Saoirse.
"Yeah. You live at home now?"
"Yeah. Trying to save up for school, but it's heard."
"So when you found your dad..."
"I woke up, I heard the engine running." He paused. "I don't know why he did it."
"I know it's rough, losing a parent. Especially when you don't have all the answers."
Dean made his way upstairs and entered the hallway. He made sure the coast was clear and pulled ani infra-red scanner from his pocket and turned it on, shining it into his rooms as soon as he passed. As he reached the end of the hall, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and hastily hid the scanner.
Sam appeared and asked, "Anything?"
"Zip," Dean replied.
The two of them moved down the stairs together.
INT. MOTEL ROOM
Dean and Juliette were cleaning their weapons and Sam entered.
"What do you have?" Dean asked.
"A whole lotta nothing," Sam replied as he sank onto his bed. "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."
"Hey man, I told you and Jules, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada."
"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam asked.
"Well, if there was a demon or a poltergeist win there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used infra-red thermal scanner, man, Seri, and there was nothing."
"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" Sam asked.
"I dunno. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."
Sam rubbed his temples. "Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house." He took a deep breath, holding his head. "Maybe it's just... Gosh," he held his hand to his forehead, "maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"Sammy?" Juliette called, looking at Sam.
Sam made anguished noses and sank from the bed to crouch on the floor. "Ahh. My head."
Dean left his bed. "Sam?" He crouched and grabbed Sam's arms. "Hey! What's going on? Talk to us."
Juliette wheeled herself over and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam stared at his brother and sister-in-law. Suddenly, Sam flashed out of the motel room and was a fly on the wall, watching Roger enter his kitchen with groceries. He noticed the window was open and closed and locked it. When he returned to unpack, the lock moved by itself and the window slid open again. Roger looked at it, confused. He attempted to close it, but it stuck. He leaned out, twisting to look up at the top of the window. The window slid closed, decapitating him. Blood gushed up over the window.
Sam focused back on his brother and friend in the motel room. "It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."
Dean drove the Impala.
Sam spoke slowly into his phone, holding his head. "Roger Miller. Ah, no, no, just the address please. Okay, thanks." He glanced to Dean. "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120."
"You okay?" Dean and Saoirse asked.
"Yeah."
"If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over you know, 'cause the upholstery..." Dean trailed.
"I'm fine."
"All right."
"Just drive." Sam looked at Dean and Juliette, sighed heavily, and looked away. "Dean, I'm scared, man, Jules. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."
"Come on, man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine."
"What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"
"I don't know, Sam, but we'll figure it out. We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing."
"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you two out."
Dean stared ahead for a long moment. "This doesn't freak me out."
Juliette glanced at Sam. "It worries me, but it doesn't freak me out."
Sam glanced at her before staring at Dean and turned away.
The Impala pulled up as Roger approached the entrance with a bag of groceries.
Sam called out the window, "Hey, Roger."
"What are you guys, missionaries?" Roger asked. "Leave me alone."
"Please!"
Roger had already left. Dean gunned the engine and jumped the curb as he hurriedly parked.
Sam got out and ran. "Hey. Roger. We're trying to help."
"Please!" Sam begged. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey." Sam ran up to the entrance just as Roger closed the door behind him.
"I don't want your help," Roger said, walking away.
Sam called after him, "We're not priests or a nun, you gotta listen to us!"
"Roger, you're in danger!" Juliette warned.
Dean looked around. "Come on. Come on. Come on, come on."
Sam and Dean ran around the corner to a back entrance to find it securely locked. Dean quickly looked around and kicked it open. They jumped to the first level of the fire escape then ran up the stairs. When they were one floor from Roger's house, they heard the window slide down and a wet squelching noise. Dean sprinted past his brother and grabbed the railing. Roger's head laid in the flower bed under the window, his blood all over the kitchen window. Sam joined him. After a long pause, Dean pulled a cloth from his pocket and threw one to Sam before starting to wipe down the railing.
"Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we're here," Dean said. "Come on, come on!"
Dean used his rag to push up the window leading out to the fire escape. "I'm gonna take a look inside."
Sam continued wiping down the railing.
They eventually all gathered together and Dean said, "I'm telling you two there was nothing in there. No signs either, just like the Miller's house."
"I saw something," Sam replied. "In the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was... something was stalking Roger."
Juliette frowned. "Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?"
"No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you two think, like a vengeful spirit?"
"Well, yeah, there's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years," Dean replied.
"Angiak. Banshees."
"Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."
"And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying."
After a moment, Sam asked, "Hey, you two think Max is in danger?"
Juliette glanced at him. "Let's figure it out before he is."
"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people."
"What's that?" Dean and Juliette questioned.
"Both our families are cursed."
Dean huffed. "Our family's not cursed! We just... had our dark spots."
"Our dark spots are... pretty dark."
"You're... dark."
Juliette smiled. "Your lame comebacks will always amuse me, Dean."
"I try, babe."
"No you don't, and that's the best."
They made their way back to the Miller house and Max let the trio in. Once again, they were wearing their priest and nun outfits.
"My mom's resting," Max told them, "she's pretty wracked."
"Of course," Dean replied.
"All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know, 'cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole."
Sam smiled and Max smiled back.
Max gestured to the lounge and all four sat.
After a moment's silence, Sam asked softly, "How you holding up?"
"Okay," Max answered.
"Your dad and your uncle were close."
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."
"But not lately much?"
"No, it's not that. It's just... we used to be neighbors when I was a kid, and we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time."
"Right. So how was it in that house when you were a kid?"
"It was fine. Why?"
"All good memories?" Dean asked. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?"
Max shook his head. "What do ya... Why do you ask?"
"Just a question."
"No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy."
"Good. That's good," Juliette said. "Well, you must be exhausted. We should be off."
Sam said, "Right." He turned to Max. "Thanks."
"Yeah," Max agreed.
Sam, Dean and Juliette walked and wheeled down the drive to stand and sit beside the Impala.
"No one's family is totally normal and happy," Dean said. "See when he was talking about his old house?"
"He sounded scared," Sam and Juliette noted.
"Yeah, Max isn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers."
---
They made their way to another suburb and stood on the sidewalk, Juliette was in her wheelchair, talking to a man in his front yard.
"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, almost 20 years now," the man replied. "It's nice and quiet. Why, are you looking to buy?"
"No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe."
"Yeah, the Millers," Dean clarified. "They had a little boy called Max."
"Right," Sam and Juliette agreed.
"I remember," the man said. "The brother had the place next door. So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid okay?"
Juliette's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean, I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street; he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of."
"This was going on regularly?" Sam questioned.
"Practically every day. In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good."
"Now, you said stepmother," Dean noted.
"I think his real mother died. Some sorta... accident. Car accident I think." He noticed Sam holding his head and grimacing. "Are you okay there?"
Sam winced. "Uh, yeah."
Dean held an arm out towards Sam. "Thanks for your time."
Sam lifted his hands to his head. "Yeah, thank you."
They turned to go, Dean and Juliette supporting Sam.
"God," Sam muttered, looking up as the world spun.
Sam was suddenly in the Millers' kitchen. Ms. Miller was chopping vegetables with a large knife.
Ms. Miller laid the knife down. "I don't know what you mean by that. You know I never did anything!"
"That's right," Max said. "You didn't do anything." The knife started to rattle on the chopping board. "You didn't stop them, not once." The knife lifted into the air.
Ms. Miller backed up against the wall. "How did you..." The knife moved forward to hold her against the wall. "Max! Please!"
The knife twisted in front of her face, coming close enough to her eyeball to pierce the tear so it ran down her cheek and she gasped.
Max, with tears in his eyes, said, "For every time you stood there and watched. Pretending it wasn't happening."
"I'm sorry," Ms. Miller apologized.
"No you're not. You just don't wanna die."
Ms. Miller gasped and cried. The knife sliced right through her eye and out the back of her head.
The trio drove off in the Impala.
"Max is doing it," Sam said. "Everything I've been seeing."
"You sure about this?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I saw him."
"How's he pulling it off?" Juliette wondered.
"I don't know, telekinesis?"
Dean frowned. "What so he's psychic, a spoon bender?"
"I didn't even realize it, but this whole time he was there. He was outside the garage when his dad died, outside the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time. I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man, Seri. I guess because we're so alike?"
"What are you talking about? The guy's nothing like you," Juliette said.
"Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both..."
"Both what?" Dean interrupted. "Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third."
"Well, with with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, but it doesn't sound insane."
"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!"
"Dean..."
Dean pulled over at Max's house. "He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him."
"We're not going to kill Max."
"Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say, 'Lock him up officer, he kills with the power of his mind'."
"No way. Forget it."
Dean turned off the engine. "Sam..."
"Dean. He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one. You too, Jules. You gotta listen."
She nodded. "You call the shots, Sam."
After a long pause, Dean replied, "All right fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."
They made their way into the kitchen to hear Max say, "That's right. You didn't do anything. You didn't stop them, not once!"
Sam, Dean and Juliette burst through the front door.
"Fathers? Sister?" Ms. Miller asked.
"What are you doing here?" Max wondered.
"Ahh, sorry to interrupt," Dean said.
"Max, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam questioned.
"About what?" Max asked suspiciously.
"It's... it's private. We wouldn't want to bother your mother with it."
Saoirse gave Ms. Miller a small smile. "We won't be long, I promise."
Max looked at his stepmother, then back. "Okay."
"Great," Sam replied.
Dean, Sam and Juliette turned for the door, Max followed. As Dean grabbed the doorknob, he turned back to smile at Max. Max saw the butt of the pistol in Dean's waistband in the hall mirror. The knob was pulled from Dean's hand and the door slammed shut, as did the wooden window blinds all around the room.
Max backed up. "You're not priests. She's not a nun."
Dean drew his gun, but Max used his power to pull it away, sliding it across the floor to where he could pick it up. He held it on the trio.
"Max, what's happening?" Ms. Miller asked.
"Shut up," Max ordered.
"What are you doing?"
Using his power, Max flung Ms. Miller backwards. She hit her head on the kitchen bench and fell to the ground, unconscious. "I said shut up!"
"Max, calm down," Sam said gently.
"Who are you?"
"We just wanna talk."
"Yeah right, that's why you brought this!" He indicated the gun.
"That was a mistake, all right? So we were lying about who we were. But no more lying, Max, okay? Just please, hear me out."
"About what?"
"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened."
"What?"
"I'm having visions, Max. About you."
"You're crazy."
"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, all right? I think I'm here to help you."
Max began crying. "No one can help me."
"Let me try, we'll talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, Juliette and Alice out of here."
"Uh-uh," Dean protested. "No way."
Sam, Dean and Juliette looked up as the chandelier began to shake.
"Nobody leaves this house!" Max yelled.
"And nobody has to, all right?" Sam replied. "They'll just... they'll just go upstairs."
"Sam, we're not leaving you alone with him," Dean said.
"Yes you two are. Look, Max. You're in charge here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything you don't want to do, but I'm talking five minutes here, man."
"Sam!" Dean and Juliette called.
Max looked back at his stepmother. "Five minutes?" The chandelier stopped shaking. "Go."
Dean moved to pick up Ms. Miller, set Juliette om his back, and walked upstairs.
Sam and Max sat in the lounge. Max stared at a letter opener and it raised on its point and began twirling slowly.
"Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through," Sam said.
"That's right, you can't," Max replied.
"Max, this has to stop."
"It will, after my stepmother..."
"No. You need to let her go."
"Why?"
"Did she beat you?"
"No, but she never tried to save me, she's a part of it too."
"What they did to you, what they all did to you growing up, they deserve to be punished..."
"Growing up? Try last week." He got up and lifted his shirt to reveal a mass of bruises on his chest and side. "My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard I guess."
"I'm sorry," Sam said softly.
"When I first found out I could move things, it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless, but now I had this. So last week, Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do."
"Why didn't you just leave?"
"It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about... not being afraid. When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"
"No."
"He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my mom's death."
"Why would he blame you for your mom's death?"
"Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault."
A shocked look crossed Sam's face. "She died in your nursery?"
"There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!"
Sam was still in shock. "Listen to me, Max. What your dad said, about what happened to your mom. It's real."
"What?"
"It happened to my mom, too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling."
"Your dad must have been as drunk as mine."
"No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers."
"That's impossible."
"This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started six-seven months ago right, out of the blue?"
"How'd you know that?"
"'Cause that's when my abilities started, Max. Yours seem to be much further along, but still, this has to mean something, right? I mean, for some reason, you and I... you and I were chosen."
"For what?"
"I don't know. But Dean, Juliette and I, my brother, sister-in-law and I, we're hunting for your mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your stepmother go."
Max thought for a moment and shook his head. "No. What they did to me. I still have the nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!"
"It won't. Don't you get it? The nightmares won't end, Max. Not like this. It's just, more pain. And it makes you as bad as them. Max, you don't have to go through all this by yourself."
"I'm sorry."
Max used his powers to fling Sam backwards into the hall closet and slammed the door. He looked across and a tall, heavy, hallway bookshelf slid in front of the doors, blocking them.
Sam banged on the doors. "No. Max!"
UPSTAIRS BEDROOM
Ms. Miller sat on the bed. Dean crouched beside her, holding a facecloth to her bleeding forehead. Juliet was sitting on the bed next to Ms. Miller. The door creaked open on its own and Max walked in. Dean rose and moved purposefully towards Max as the door closed behind him. Max sent Dean flying and he crashed into the wall.
"Max!" Ms. Miller cried.
"Dean!" Juliette screamed.
Max raised Dean's pistol, his hand shaking.
"Son of a..." Dean began.
Dean rose, freezing when he saw the gun, then began walking towards Max. He stopped when Max let go of the gun, leaving it floating in midair. It cocked, then turned to point at Ms. Miller. Dean stepped in its way.
"Stay back," Max warned. "This is not about you."
"You wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first," Dean said.
"Okay."
The gun fired. Blood spattered over the wall. Dean had a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead, eyes blank. He wavered and crashed heavily to the ground. Ms. Miller looked at the scene, shocked. Dean was sprawled on the ground, eyes open, dead.
"Dean?" Juliette whispered as tears stung her eyes.
DOWNSTAIRS CLOSET
Sam came back to himself, gasping and holding his head.
He panicked. "No. NOOO!"
The bookcase in front of the closet doors slid away. Sam froze, then pushed the door with his hand and it swung open.
UPSTAIRS BEDROOM
The gun, midair, turned to point at Ms. Miller.
"Max. No," Ms. Miller said.
Dean stepped in front of her and the gun turned to point at him.
"Stay back," Max warned. "It's not about you."
"You're going to kill her, you gotta go through me first," Dean said.
"Okay."
The door burst open and Sam entered.
"No, don't!" Sam cried. "Don't! Please. Please. Max. Max. We can help you. All right. But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not going to fix anything."
Max was shaking, sweating, and in tears. He stared at Sam, anguished. Suddenly, he relaxed a little and his face cleared. "You're right."
Sam smiled at him, but Max swung away from him to the gun and the gun swung to point at Max. He shot himself in the head.
"No!" Sam cried.
Juliette grabbed Dean's hand and he gave hers a light squeeze.
They made their way to the downstairs lounge and Ms. Miller sat on the couch, in shock. "Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun."
The cop indicated to the trio. "And these three?"
"They're... family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."
"Where did Max get the gun?"
Sam, Dean and Juliette exchanged a look.
Ms. Miller began to cry and looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. He showed up with it and..." She broke down.
"It's all right, Ms. Miller," the cop reassured.
Ms. Miller sobbed. "I've lost everyone."
The cop turned to the trio. "We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."
"Thanks officer," Dean said, patting Sam and Juliette's arms. "Come on."
The three left the house and walke/wheeled down the path.
"If I'd just said something else," Sam muttered. "Gotten through to him somehow."
"Ah, don't do that," Dean told him.
"Do what?"
"Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."
"When I think about how he looked at me, man, Jules, right before. I shoulda done something."
"Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there 20 years earlier."
They moved to either side of the Impala and Juliette rested her hand on the back handle.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad," Sam said.
Dean looked astounded and pleased. "Well, that's not something I ever thought I'd hear you say."
"Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting, and we coulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him."
Dean turned back to look at Max's house. "All things considered." He helped Juliette into the car, then put her wheelchair in.
They made their way back to their motel room and Sam placed a bag in the trunk of the Impala, which was backed up to the door, and returned inside.
"Dean, Seri, I've been thinking," Sam said.
"Well, that's never a good thing," Dean replied.
"I'm serious. I've been thinking, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?"
Juliette shrugged as she rolled a shirt. "No idea."
"Well, you two think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?"
"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.
"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was after us for some reason."
"Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it's not about you."
"Then what is it about?"
"It's about this damn thing that did this to our family. This thing, we're gonna find and kill. And that's all."
"Actually, there's uh... something else too."
"Ah, jeez what."
"When Max left me in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door... I moved it."
"Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than Jules and I gave you credit for."
"No, man, I moved it. Like, Max."
Dean paused his gathering of clothes and stood still. "Oh." He fell silent and said softly after a moment, "Right."
"Yeah."
Dean picked up a spoon. "Bend this."
Sam frowned at him. "I can't just turn it on and off, Dean."
Dean set the spoon down as Juliette asked, "Well, how'd you do it?"
"I don't know, I can't control it. I just... I saw Dean die and it just came out of me, like a punch. You know, like... a freak adrenaline thing."
"Yeah, well, I'm sure it won't happen again," Dean said.
"Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried man, Jules? Are you two worried I could turn into Max or something?"
"Nope. No way. You know why?"
"No. Why?"
"'Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have."
"Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean."
"No. Me." He smirked. "As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to either of you." Sam did his puppy dog look and Juliette stared curiously as Dean slung the bag over his should and moved towards Sam. "Now, then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."
"Where?"
"Vegas," Dean deadpanned.
Juliette frowned. "No alcohol for me."
Dean grinned at Sam who tilted his head, looked away, looked back, did his bitchface and walked out the door to the car, joined by Juliette.
"What?" Dean asked. "Come on, man. Craps tables. We'd clean up! No alcoholic drinks for you, babe."
Dean followed Sam and Juliette to the door and paused on the threshold. He considered Sam, looking thoughtful, then turned to pull the door closed.