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sunnysideup13 - cousin and insipration - who I go to when I have writers block
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HOME
I sat up in bed, blinked a few times, and looked around. My brothers were already up and dressed, sitting on their beds. Dean was on the computer, and Sam was sketching. Weird. I looked over at him. “What ya drawing buddy?” I asked.
Sam shrugged.
“All right. I’ve been cruising some websites,” Dean said, not visibly acknowledging that he knew I was awake. “I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali –- its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey.” Sam and I looked up. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”
“No, I’m listening,” Sam said quickly. “Keep going.”
“And here,” Dean continued. “A Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.” He waved his hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?”
Sam ignored him. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”
“Seen what?” I asked. Sam got up from his bed and began searching through his duffel bag.
“What are you doing?” Dean asked.
Sam pulled a bit of paper from the duffel, and held it next to the drawing. “Guys, I know where we have to go next.”
“Where?” Dean asked.
“Back home,” Sam said. “Back to Kansas.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Okay, random,” Dean said, sorrow appearing in his eyes. “Where’d that come from?”
Sam showed the photo he was holding to Dean. I got out of bed, and went over. The photo Sam held was of mom and dad, with Dean and Sam, and baby me in mom’s arms.
“All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?” Sam asked. “The house where mom died?”
“Yeah,” Dean said.
“And it didn’t burn down that second time right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”
“I guess so, yeah,” Dean replied slowly. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Okay, look,” Sam said. “This is gonna sound crazy but…the people who live in our old house...I think they might be in danger.”
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“Um....” Sam started. “it’s just, um... look, just trust me on this, okay?” He started to walk away. Dean and I exchanged a glance before following.
“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean asked.
“Yeah.”
“Come on man,” Dean sighed. “That’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”
“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam said.
“Well tough.” I snapped quickly. “We’re not going anywhere until you do.”
Sam sighed. I stared expectantly at him.
“I have these nightmares,” Sam said eventually.
Dean and I nodded. “We’ve noticed.”
“And sometimes... they come true.”
“Come again?” Dean spluttered, stunned.
“Look, Dean, Mil... I dreamt about Jessica’s death - for days before it happened.”
“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Dean said, siting down on his bed. I sat beside him.
“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”
“Well maybe it is something,” I said quickly, getting to my feet again. “I’ve been having weird feelings about the house too.”
Dean looked overwhelmed. “I don’t know.”
Sam sat down on his bed, directly across from Dean. I crossed my legs on the ground, leaning against Dean’s bed. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean?” Sam asked. “This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica!”
“All right, just slow down, would ya?” Dean snapped. He stood up, and began pacing. “I mean, I’m already dealing with Mil’s telepathic pain receptor thing. Then you tell me you’ve got the shining! And that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when...” he broke off, sounding rather close to tears.
“When what?” Sam prompted.
“When I swore to myself that I would never go back there.”
“Look Dean, we have to check this out.” Sam said softly. “Just to make sure.”
“I know we do,” Dean said quietly.
We pulled up outside a large white house. I recognized it from somewhere, but I couldn’t remember where. The last time I had been here was when I was six months old.
“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked, slapping Dean on the knee.
“Let me get back to you on that,” Dean said, his voice sounded very downcast. We got out of the car, walked up to the front door. Sam knocked. A woman opened the door. Sam quickly took a step back, looking a little shocked.
“Yes?” The woman asked.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the federal...” Dean started.
“I’m Sam Winchester,” Sam cut Dean off. I gave him a warning glance. It was not a good idea to be handing out our real names. “and this is my brother Dean, and my sister Mil. We used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could just come see the old place.”
“Winchester,” the woman repeated. “Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.”
“You did?” Dean asked.
The woman nodded, and stepped aside. “Come on in.” We did. I looked around as I walked into the front hall. Everything looked eerily familiar. Then all of a sudden it was dark. I could hear the crackling of flames, and Dean’s and my screaming. I took a deep breath, clutching my forehead. I was immediately back in reality.
“You okay?” Sam asked softly.
I looked up, panting. “Yeah, fine.”
The woman didn’t appear to have noticed my unusual behavior. And neither had Dean, apparently.
“I’m Jenny,” the woman said, leading us through to the kitchen.
“Hey.”
In the kitchen, I saw two children. A girl who looked about eight, sat at the kitchen table, doing homework. Her brother, a toddler, was in his playpen, jumping around screaming, “Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!”
“That’s Ritchie,” Jenny said. “He’s kind of a juice junky.” She took a sippy cup from the refrigerator, and handed it to her son, who took a long, noisy drink. “But, hey, least he won’t get dirty.” She walked over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Mil. They used to live here.
“Hi,” Sari said.
Dean waved.
“Hey, Sari,” Sam and I said in unison.
“So you just moved in?” Dean asked of Jenny.
“Yeah, from Wichita,” Jenny replied.
“You got family here, or...?”
“No. I just, uh... needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job –- I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”
“So, how you liking it so far?” Sam asked.
“Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home – I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here.” I forced a weak smile at Jenny’s words.. Yeah, real happy. But this place has its issues.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well it’s just getting old,” Jenny said. “Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”
“Oh that’s too bad, what else?” Dean prompted.
“Um... sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement,” Jenny paused. I could see her mentally backtracking. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”
“No,” Dean said quickly, not at all offended. “Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”
“It’s just the scratching actually.”
“Mom?” Sari asked. Jenny knelt next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”
“What, Sari?” I asked.
“The thing in my closet,” Sari replied softly.
“Oh no, baby, there was nothing in their closets,” Jenny looked up at us. “Right?”
“Right. No, no, of course not,” I said quickly.
“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny said.
“I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom - and it was on fire,” Sari protested.
“You hear that?” Sam asked, as we walked down the steps back to the Impala. “A figure on fire.”
“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked back.
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching flickering lights...”
“Both signs of a malevolent spirit,” I finished, walking behind my brothers.
“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true,” Dean said.
“What about my pain hunches?” I asked. “They’re almost always right as well.”
“Well, forget about that for a second,” Sam said, sounding panicked. “The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed mom and Jessica?”
“I don’t know!” Dean and I snapped in unison.
“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?”
God, shut up Sammy. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Sammy. We don’t know yet,” I said, in an attempt to make Sam be quiet.
“Well, those people are in danger!” Sam said, his voice almost a yell. “We have to get ‘em out of that house.”
“And we will,” Dean said.
“No, I mean now.”
“And how you gonna do that, huh?” I asked. “You got a story that she’s gonna believe?”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked, sounding rather desperate.
We pulled up at a gas station; and got out of the car
“We just gotta chill out, that’s all.” Dean said, leaning his elbows on the roof, opposite Sam and I. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”
Sam sighed. “We’d try to figure out what we were dealing with. We’d dig into the history of the house.”
“Except this time, we already know what happened,” I added.
“Yeah but how much do we know?” Sam asked. “I mean, how much do you remember, Dean? I was six months old the first time it tried to... to kill her, and six years the next. All I remember is waking up to find a shadow thing standing over Mil’s crib. And the flames. What about you?”
“Not much,” Dean said. “I remember the fire... the heat.” He paused, taking a deep breath. I felt tears prickling in my eyes. “And then I carried you two out the front door.”
“You did?” I asked. My voice sounded choked.
“Yeah, what you never knew that?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“And you guys know dad’s stories as well as I do,” Dean continued. “That first time... I dunno, mom was, like halfway up the wall, pinned their by some invisible force. And dad managed to get her down. And then.... six years later. Mom was... was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone before dad found her.”
“And he never had a theory about what did it?” Sam asked.
“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”
“Did mom ever say who, or what it was who tried to kill her?” I asked.
“No,” Dean replied. “She said she couldn’t remember.”
I pursed my lips. “Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s going on now... we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “We’ll talk to dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”
“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam asked after a pause.
Dean was silent for a bit, then he straightened up. “I’ll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom.”
Once Dean had walked away, Sam and I got in the car.
Sam reached his hand back to take mine. “You alright, Mil.”
I used my free hand to brush away the forming tears. “I guess so. How ‘bout you?” I heard Sam swallow, then he shrugged. We sat in silence for a few moments, until Dean came back. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying. Dean got in the car, without saying a word, and started the engine.
“So who do we talk to first?” I asked, after a long moment of silence.
“Well,” Dean replied stiffly, as if he was fighting to keep his voice controlled. “Dad used to co-own Guenther’s Auto Repair. So maybe we go talk to some people there.”
It didn’t take us long to find the repair store. Sam grabbed three ID’s from the glove compartment, and handed them out.
It didn’t take us long to find Guenther’s Auto Repair. Some guy pointed us to the owner of the place.
“Hi,” Sam started. “We’re with the police. And we’d just, um, like to ask a few questions on John Winchester.”
“So you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh... fifteen years since John disappeared. So why are the cops interested all of a sudden?”
“O we’re re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is once of them,” Dean replied.
“Oh, well, what do you want to know about John?” the owner asked.
“Well, whatever you remember,” I said. “You know, whatever sticks out in your mind.”
“Well, we was a real stubborn bastard, I remember that,” the owner said, laughing. “And uh, whatever the game, he hated to loose, you know? It’s that whole marine thing.” We nodded. “But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids.”
“But that was before the fire?” Sam asked.
“That’s right.”
“He ever talk about that night?” Sam asked.
“No, not at first. I think he was in shock.”
“Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?” I asked.
“Oh, he wasn’t thinking straight. He said something caused those fires and killed Mary.”
“He ever say what did it?” Dean asked.
“Nothing did it. It was an accident – an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something. I begged him to get some help, but….” The guy broke off.
“But what?” Dean pressed.
“Oh, he just got worse and worse.”
“How?”
“Oh, he started reading these strange ol’ books. He started going to see this palm reader in town.”
“Palm reader,” Dean repeated. “Uh, do you have a name?”
The owner scoffed. “No.”
I leaned against the Impala, which was parked by a pay-phone. Dean leaned beside me, while Sam flipped through a phonebook on the pay-phone.
“All right,” Sam was saying. “so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There’s someone named El Divino. There’s, uh ...” He laughed. “there’s the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley...”
“Wait, wait,” Dean interrupted. “Missouri Moseley?”
“What?” Sam asked.
“That’s a psychic?”
“Uh, yeah,” Sam replied. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Dean went into the backseat of the car and pulled out John’s journal. “In dad’s journal... here, look at this,” Dean opened the book to the first page, and passed it to Sam. “First page, first sentence, read that.”
“I went to Missouri and l learned the truth,” Sam read.
Dean shrugged. “I always thought he meant the state.”
We sat on the couch in Missouri Moseley’s house.
Missouri came out of a room, followed by a man. “All right there, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” Missouri was saying. “Your wife is crazy about you.” As soon as the man had left, Missouri turned to us. “Whew, poor bastard. His woman is cold-banging the gardener.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?” I asked.
“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news.” We stared at her. “Well, Sam, Dean and Mil. Come on already, I ain’t got all day.” She left the room. We exchanged a confused look, before following. “Well let me look at you,” Missouri said. She laughed. “Oh you kids grew up handsome.” She pointed a finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy looking kid, too.” Dean glared at her. Sam and I exchanged a smirk. “Sam,” Missouri grabbed his hand. Sam looked shocked. “Oh, honey... I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And you’re father’s missing?”
“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked.
“Well you were just thinking it just now.” Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised.
“Well, where is he?” Dean demanded. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” Missouri said.
“Don’t know?” Dean repeated. “Well you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”
“Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? 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.” I smirked at Dean as we sat. Missouri immediately snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m’a whack you with a spoon!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Dean said.
“But you were thinking about it,” Missouri said. Dean raised his eyebrows, Sam and I smiled on either side of him.
“Okay, so our dad,” I started. “When did you first meet him?”
“He came for a reading. A few days after the second fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say... I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri said.
“What about the fires? Do you know what killed our mom?” Dean asked.
“A little,” Missouri revealed. “Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”
“And could you?” Sam asked.
“I...” Missouri broke off.
“What was it?” Sam and I asked together.
“I don’t know,” Missouri said softly. “Oh, but it was evil.” Sam, Dean and I exchanged a long, dark glance. “So... you think something is back in that house?” Missouri asked.
“Definitely,” Sam replied firmly. I nodded in agreement.
“I don’t understand,” Missouri said.
“What?’ Sam asked.
“I haven’t been back inside, but I’ve been keeping an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet.” Missouri said. “No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?”
“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “But dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once - it just feels like somethings starting.”
“That’s a comforting thought,” Dean said quietly. I made a grim face.
Dean parked the car in front of our old house, and we got out. Sam and Dean from the front, and Missouri and I from the back. We knocked on the door, and Jenny quickly came out, carrying Ritchie in her arms.
“Sam, Dean, Mil,” She said, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Jenny,” Sam said. “This is our friend, Missouri.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her our old house,” Dean added. “You know, for old times sake.”
“You know,” Jenny said, “this isn’t a good time. I’m kind of busy.”
“Listen Jenny, it’s important,” Dean said urgently. I saw Missouri smack him on the back of his head. I grinned sort of triumphantly behind them at Sam, who was smirking behind his hand. “Ow!” Dean protested, rubbing his head.
“Give the poor girl a break, can’t you see she’s upset?” Missouri hissed to Dean, then she straightened up and addressed Jenny. “Forgive this boy, he means well, he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed.”
Dean looked stunned.
“About what?” Jenny asked.
“About this house,” Missouri replied quickly.
“What are you talking about?”
“I think you know what I’m talking about,” Missouri said, rather sharply. “You think there’s something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?”
“Who are you?” Jenny asked uncertainly.
“We’re people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you’re gonna have to trust us, just a little.”
Jenny looked unsure for a moment, then she stepped back. “Okay.”
We walked into Sari’s bedroom a few minutes later.
“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the centre of it,” Missouri said.
“Why?” I asked.
“This used to be your nursery, Sam, and yours too Mil. This is where it all happened.”
Sam and I looked at each other. I swallowed and looked up at the ceiling. There was no visible trace of anything that had happened.
The house was on fire. Flames licked at the roof, and right in the center, her limbs splayed, contorted in pain, was Mary, screaming silently. I blinked quickly several times to clear the image, wincing.
I saw Dean pull out his EMF meter.
“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.
“Yeah,” Dean replied.
“Amateur,” Missouri muttered. Dean glared at her. He nudged me, and pointed out that his EMF was beeping frantically. Then he showed Sam. “I don’t know if you kids should be disappointed or relieved,” Missouri continued. “But this ain’t the think that took your mom.”
“Wait, are you sure?” Sam asked. Missouri nodded in response. “How do you know?”
“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s something different.”
“What is it?” Dean asked.
Missouri opened the closet while she replied. “Not it. Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”
“What are they doing here?” I asked, looking around the room, trying not to let the memories get to me. I felt some sort of energy in the air, but I couldn’t quite place it.
“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri said.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, frowning in confusion.
“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”
“You said there was more than one spirit,” Sam said.
“There is,” Missouri answered. “I just can’t quite make out the second one.”
“I can’t make out either,” I muttered, but I didn’t think anyone heard me. I glanced at Sam, who was peering over Dean’s shoulder at the EMF. I wondered if he felt the energies in the room too.
“Well one things for damn sure,” Dean said strongly. “Nobody’s dying in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”
We sat around a table at Missouri’s house. On the table in front of us was numerous different types of herbs and roots.
“S, what is all this stuff, anyway?” I asked, picking up an onion like root from in front of me, and sniffing it.
“Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends,” Missouri said.
I put down my onion thing.
“Yeah?” Dean asked.”What are we supposed to do with it?”
“We’re gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house,” Missouri said.
“We’ll be punching holes in the dry wall,” Dean pointed out. “Jenny’s gonna love that.”
Missouri grinned slyly. “She’ll live.”
“And this’ll destroy the spirits?” Sam asked.
“It should. It should purify the house completely. We’ll each take a corner. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we’re up to, things are gonna get bad.”
I stood by the trunk of the Impala, watching Missouri talk to Jenny. As soon as Jenny and her kids had left, I pulled out my gun, and began loading it with rock salt. Then I stuffed a few salt shells in my pocket, along with a hammer and the herb bag.
Sam, Dean, Missouri and I went into the house, and split up to go to our designated places. Sam in Sari’s room, Dean in the kitchen, Missouri in the basement, and me to Jenny’s room.
I steadied the hammer in my hand, and started cutting a small hole in the wall. All of a sudden, I heard a noise behind me. I turned, a huge dresser, topped with a mirror was moving on its own towards me. I quickly stuffed my bag of herbs into the wall. But it wasn’t enough to stop it. In the reflection of the mirror, I saw a shadow behind me. I whipped out my gun, aimed it over my shoulder, and fired. The ghost disappeared. But the dresser was still coming towards me. Then I was being strangled by something invisible, and knives I couldn’t see were striking my body, I was being pinned against a wall by something heavy, only nothing was pinning me. I struggled to the door, and just bolted. I ran into Dean outside Sari’s room.
“Are you alright?” He asked me, sounding a little out of breath. I didn’t answer. I ran into the room, to see Sam on the floor, with a lamp chord strangling him.
“Sam!” I yelled. My voice was chocked, I still had the strangled feeling. I dived on my brother, and tried to release the chord from around his neck. It wouldn’t budge. I threw the bag of herbs to Dean, who kicked a hole in the wall and stuffed the bag inside. A blinding white light lit up the room. I covered my eyes. As soon as it had gone, Dean grabbed Sam and I in a fierce hug, and hurriedly we unraveled the chord from around Sam’s neck.
We stood in Jenny’s extremely messy kitchen with Missouri.
“You sure this is over?” Sam asked, his arm over my shoulders.
“I’m sure,” Missouri replied, “why? Why do you ask?”
“Never mind, Sam said, he sighed. “It’s nothing, I guess.” I squeezed Sam’s hand gently.
I heard a door open, and Jenny’s voice, “hello! We’re home.” She came into the kitchen and looked around. “What happened?”
“Hi, sorry,” I said. “Um, we’ll pay for all of this.” I glanced at Dean, who looked confused.
“Don’t you worry,” Missouri said. “Dean’s gonna clean up this mess.” Dean didn’t move, he looked disgruntled. “Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get a mop.” Dean began walking away, scowling. “And don’t cuss at me!” Missouri called after him. Dean muttered darkly under his breath. Sam, Missouri and I watched Dean clear up the mess.
“It does him good to get a little discipline now and again,” I muttered to Sam, who nodded. A while later we left the house.
That night, we sat in the Impala outside Jenny’s house.
“All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doing here?” Dean asked. I guessed he was still annoyed at Missouri.
“I don’t know,” Sam revealed, “I just... I still have a bad feeling.”
“So do I,” I said.
“Why?” Dean asked. “Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”
“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all,” Sam said.
“Yeah, well problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now,” Dean groaned. He slid down in his seat, and closed his eyes. I looked up at the house, and started. Jenny was standing at the window, screaming.
“Sammy,” I said in a low voice. Sam looked up.
He shook Dean awake. “Dean. Look, Dean!” We got out of the car and ran towards the house.
“You grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said urgently.
I ran to Sari’s bedroom, to find Sari sitting in her bed, screaming. I looked around, and saw a figure made out of fire standing by the closet.
“Don’t look, don’t look,” I soothed the girl quickly, pulling her out of bed. I carried her out of the room. I almost ran into Sam, who was coming to find us, Ritchie in his arms.
“Come on!” Sam yelled. We dashed down the stairs, Sari clung to my hand, whimpering. Sam put Ritchie down at the foot of the stairs, and addressed Sari. “All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.”
As soon as the words had left Sam’s mouth, an invisible force pushed us over. I felt my breath leave my chest as I hit the floor. I went sliding back, through an open door, and into a table. Sam slid limply through after me. I heard Sari screaming above the pounding in my ears.
I head a crash, like a door slamming, and looked at Sam. His eyes were as wide as mine. Like a rag doll, I was flung into a set of cabinets in the kitchen, before hitting the floor. I tried to pick myself up, but as soon as I managed to get to my feet, Sam came slamming into me, forcing me down.
“Sorry,” Sam panted, heaving us to our feet. Then the same invisible force pushed us into a wall. And we stayed there, pinned, paralyzed. A flame, that resembled a person walked toward us.
I frowned, and heard Sam gasp beside me.
“Sam! Mil!” Dean yelled, from somewhere nearby yet out of sight. Dean revealed himself, raising his gun at the figure on fire.
“No, don’t!” Sam said desperately. “Don’t!”
“What, why!?” Dean demanded.
“Because I know who it is. I can see her now,” Sam replied.
The fire dissolved, and left in it’s place was a woman with long blonde hair, very similar to mine. It was mom. Dean backed up against the wall, his expression softened. At the same time, his gun dropped, to hang limply at his side.
“Mom?” Dean asked softly.
“Dean,” Mary said, stepping closer to us, she smiled warmly. I felt tears fall in my eyes, and start falling down my cheeks. Mom moved away from Dean, to stand in front of Sam.
“Sam,” she said. Then she turned to me. My tears were falling thick and fast, but I could do nothing to wipe them away. “Mil.” Then mom’s smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked. But mom never replied. She stepped away from us, and addressed the ceiling.
“You get out of my house. And let go of my children.” Then Mary burst into flames. Once the flames reached the ceiling, she disappeared. Sam and I were released from the wall. Sam, Dean and I exchanged a stunned look.
“Now it’s over,” Sam said.
The next morning, Sam and I were sitting on the front steps of the house, while Dean was looking through old photos with Jenny. I heard footsteps behind me. I looked up. Missouri came out of the house, and sat down beside me.
“Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure,” Missouri said.
Sam looked across me at her. “Not even my mom?”
“No.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Your mom’s spirit and the poltergeist’s energy, they cancelled each other out,” Missouri told us. “Your mom destroyed herself by going after that thing.”
“Why would she do something like that?” Sam asked, I saw tears glisten in his eyes.
“Well, to protect her kids of course,” Missouri said. She sighed. “Sam, Mil, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Sam and I asked together.
“You guys sensed it was here, didn’t you? Even when I couldn’t.”
“What’s happening to us?” Sam asked, his voice wavered a little.
Missouri looked apologetic. “I know I should have all the answers, but I don’t know.”
“Sam, Mil, you two ready?” Dean called, from over by the Impala. Sam nodded. We stood up, bade goodbye to Missouri, and joined Dean by the car.
“Thanks guys,” Jenny said.
“Don’t you guys be strangers,” Missouri called.
“We won’t,” Dean answered back.
“See you around.”
We got in the car, and drove away. About ten minutes later, when we passed Missouri’s house, I saw two shadows through the closed curtain. One of them was male, and seemed familiar. My instincts were telling me I knew him well. Could it have been John Winchester?
question: when is Mil's birthday - day, date and year