While These Visions Did Appear (5/8)
They didn’t talk to John after that, but Dean and Sam both thought they’d come off well from the experience. John’s journal had been of interest to both of them and Dean spent a lot of time jotting down his memories of their hunts to organize them into a coherent book of his own. Sam added what he could, as Dean would write it down in his own black leather-bound journal Sam would add in anything else he’d come across, often setting down extra research that Dean didn’t remember because it hadn’t helped them in their actual case, though it might be of interest to others.
Bobby said their names were out in the community now and that they were welcome, as if working with John Winchester had somehow gotten them the stamp of approval, regardless of their age. No one asked how they had come to be in the business so young and they didn’t share their own lack of understanding in the matter.
Sam still researched it from time to time, throwing out tidbits that he found about memory loss and what could cause it when they came across something, but they didn’t have enough information to figure it out. Mostly, they just ignored it, continuing with the hunt that had been the only thing they knew upon waking.
Sam’s eighteen birthday passed quietly. They didn’t go to the bar as they had for his seventeen or for Dean’s twenty second. Sam’s legal coming of age didn’t mean anything special to Sam but it meant something to Dean so Sam let him do what he wanted. What Dean had wanted was a nice hotel, a big steak dinner, and Sam naked underneath him.
He couldn’t explain it to Sam. He couldn’t tell him that he’d spent a year waiting for Sam to regret this, to want a way out and have nothing because he wasn’t old enough to be on his own and had to put up with Dean until he was. It didn’t make any sense because he knew better than anyone that Sam could take care of himself regardless of the age factor, but it didn’t stop the doubt that crept into his mind from time to time.
At eighteen, Sam could do anything, be anything he wanted to be. He had his GED and a wallet full of cash and credit that would see him to the other side of the country if he wanted. Instead, he was with Dean, his voice broken and pleading for his lover, begging for more. Dean didn’t disappoint him; in fact he’d almost made him lose his voice. For Sam’s eighteenth birthday, Dean gave him the night of his young life.
It was just another day really.
“Sam? You find what you were looking for?”
Sam shrugged. “A lot of bad things happened in that house Dean.”
His voice was softer than normal and Dean wanted to take the pain of that from him, but there was nothing he could do. They couldn’t help the dead, but they did what they could for the living. “Think we can take care of this thing tonight?”
He led Sam across the street to the park. There were a lot of people out, couples walking together, kids running with their parents, dogs running with their owners. It was the type of thing that calmed Sam, to see people living their normal lives because they kept the monsters at bay for them. It had some advantages for Dean as well, a hot dog stand with amazing chili dogs and an ice cream truck that went around every twenty minutes. He knew because he’d been sitting there for the last three hours while Sam was doing research, trying to talk to the two witnesses of the ghost on Hendericks Avenue.
“I hope so Dean. The attacks are escalating. If we don’t get it tonight I don’t think this ghost is going to be happy pushing people around. It wants blood.”
Dean nodded as he grabbed Sam and pushed him back into a small area of the park. They could look out onto the larger field but it was one of a series of small cut aways that were intended to give a little privacy.
“Dean?”
Dean pressed Sam back against one of the trees and kissed him. Sam’s hands were curled into his shirt a second later, pulling Dean closer. He could feel the tension in Sam’s body and he knew it wasn’t the type of tension he could get rid of so easily, but he could remind Sam of why they did what they did, of what they had in each other.
When Sam pulled back, his forehead resting against Dean’s, he had a faint smile on his lips. “I’m okay Dean,” he said softly.
“Course you are,” Dean said, allowing himself to nuzzle up against Sam’s ear for a moment. It was a small show of affection and one that Sam would appreciate. His lips were at the tip of Sam’s ear and he smiled into the next words. “I’ve got you.”
Sam laughed then and Dean let himself be pulled down to the ground. Dean put his back up against the tree trunk and Sam sat there for a little while, his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh as they watched the people go by in silence.
When Sam was finally relaxed, he sat up and looked back at Dean. “There were three murders committed in the same house, all children Dean. It could be any of them haunting the street.”
Dean sighed and understood now why Sam had been so tense. Having to dig up and burn three bodies was going to be a nightmare and not because of the digging. Dean hated when it was kids. It was just harder to look down into a child’s coffin and do what you needed to do and Sam knew that Dean wasn’t good with this. He liked children even if he knew he’d never settle down and have any of his own.
“Sam,” he reached out a hand to try to express his gratitude, knowing that Sam was worked up for him, that all the extra research had been about trying to make this easier for Dean.
Sam didn’t look up at him and Dean knew something wasn’t right, beyond this hunt. He watched helplessly as Sam clutched his head, his whole body tensing up. Dean grabbed him and kept him from falling over, but he wasn’t even sure Sam was aware of it. “Sammy? What’s happening?” Sam didn’t respond and he was about to call 911 when Sam’s hands gripped Dean’s arms, leveling himself off.
“Dean?”
“I’m right here Sammy. What’s going on?”
Sam’s eyes were pained but clear now and he looked at Dean in confusion. “I don’t… I don’t know what that was.”
“Tell me,” he said it as gently as he could but nothing would hide the order in those words, no matter how much concern they held.
“I… I think… I saw a baby Dean. I was in a nursery and there was a demon there. He was just … watching this baby. I think it was a vision Dean.”
“A vision? Like a psychic see the future kinda thing?”
“I don’t know. The demon was wearing older styled clothes. I’m not sure but…” he looked at Dean like he knew he was crazy. “I think it was in the past.”
Dean put a hand to Sam’s face. “Come on Sammy. We’re going back to the motel.”
“Dean, no, I’m okay now. Really. Just let me relax here a little while.”
“Sam,”
“I’m okay. I just want to rest.”
Sam was pushing his way into Dean’s chest, leaning back into him so hard that it knocked him off balance and his back hit the tree trunk with a thud. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and just burrowed into him like he was child who needed protected from the nightmares.
Dean wanted to take him away from the park and anything that could possibly touch him, but Sam knew what he needed. Instead, he enveloped his lover in his arms, murmuring comforting platitudes that meant nothing but that would let Sam know he wasn’t alone, no matter what was happening.
He didn’t know how long he held him before he realized Sam was asleep. It was even longer before Dean let go.
“I don’t know why we’re here Sam,” Dean said honestly as he walked around the neighborhood. “If this is something from the past, it’s not like we can do anything about it.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I just feel like, maybe, if I come here, I can get some kind of peace with this thing. Maybe I could actually sleep through the night.”
“That’d be nice,” Dean said with a shake of his head. Since the first vision Sam had of the nursery scene, they’d come more frequently until Sam was waking from it every night. The ones during the day put him in enough pain to knock him to his knees and he’d even started to get nose bleeds. Bobby hadn’t heard of anything like that, but he was reluctant to ask around too much. Hunters could be funny about anything to do with psychics. And demons. It was why they were in Lawrence, Kansas, walking around the neighborhood Sam was sure he was seeing in his dreams.
“I can’t help it Dean.”
“I know Sammy. I don’t blame you for this. I just… I hate not being able to stop it.”
“Can I help you boys?”
Dean stopped as they came face to face with their speaker. She was a short woman, larger framed but with a sense of confidence about her that made Dean uncomfortable.
“Just walking through the neighborhood,” Dean said, giving her his best smile.
“Uh hu. I think you two had best follow me.”
“And you are?” Sam asked.
“Missouri Mosley. I knew something was coming to see me today, I just didn’t know what. Good thing I had a cancellation.”
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“Don’t you stand around trying to talk back to me Dean. You and Sam have come a long way to find out what is happening to him. I expect you to keep up.”
Sam just shrugged when he looked over at him, so they did as they were told, leaving behind the house that made him think of white picket fences and a wife and children and a life he’d never have. He looked at Sam and smiled, more than okay with knowing this was his lot in life.
Missouri told them to follow her and Dean did, just a few blocks over to her house where a sign in the front lawn proclaimed her a psychic. It was tastefully done, not the type that you saw used by most charlatans who wanted to use glitz and glamour to fool people.
She set them in her parlor and there was an old world charm to the place, a warmth that made Dean think of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven and long evenings on a porch swing. When she came in with a pitcher of sweet tea Dean poured for all three of them.
Dean watched the other two as they drank. Sam kept his eyes down as if he was suddenly ashamed of something and Missouri was watching him with open interest. He didn’t like the look in her eyes, like she knew something that neither of them did.
“So, a psychic huh? Most come in handy with the lotto.”
“I know you’re skeptical Dean, and I’m willing to give you a little slack because of your concern for Sam, but don’t think I won’t find a long wooden spoon and paddle your ass if you disrespect me.”
Dean was taken back by the words but Sam actually smiled. “You said we were coming to see you.”
“You have a powerful gift Sam, one that can sometimes be a curse. There aren’t that many true psychics in the world and we’re drawn towards one another.”
“I just… I only have this vision. It’s from the past.”
“Your mind is trying to show you something you need to know,” Missouri said. “Does the baby look familiar, or the house?”
“No. I mean, we found the house today, but it’s not something I recognize.”
She reached out and took Sam’s hand in hers but dropped it immediately, her eyes wide. “Dean, give me your hand.” She held hers out and it was only Sam’s beseeching look that made Dean drop his hand into hers. She dropped it just as fast.
“Oh boys,” she said sadly. “Something has ripped a part of you, something strong took from you and the only thing left in its wake is the hole it left behind.”
“Our memories,” Dean said softly to Sam.
“What do you mean Dean?” Missouri’s voice was soft but there was steel behind it, an order draped in concern.
He sighed as he looked at Sam but his lover was no help. He wanted to trust the lady and Dean wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight it. They were both too tired. “We woke up in a motel room, a little over two years ago. Neither of us had any memory. We realized pretty quickly that we were hunters though and we’ve been hunting together ever since.”
“No memories at all?”
“None. Hell, I don’t even know if my name is Dean.”
“That might explain it then,” she said looking at Sam. “Your gift, it’s trying to help you fill in the void that’s been left in your spirit.”
“By showing me a demon hovering over a child’s bed?”
“You said you saw what happened in the past. I can’t help you much Sam, but I can tell you that if your gift is trying to show you this thing, you had best listen. Maybe what you need to know is tied in with that child.” She took his hand again but Dean saw the slight flinch as she did so. “I can tell you this though. Until you figure it out, you won’t find peace.”
They were out on the street again, the Impala roaring under his hands before he opened his mouth. “So, we investigate the house. Like we were going to. What was the point of all that if she was just going to tell us to do what we were already doing? This is why no one believes in psychics Sam.”
“At least I have someone to call now. I know she’s there if I have trouble.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Come on Dean. I’m exhausted and all I want to do right now is sleep.”
“Library in the morning?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. Let’s see what we can find out about that house in the morning.”
On to Chapter Six
Bobby said their names were out in the community now and that they were welcome, as if working with John Winchester had somehow gotten them the stamp of approval, regardless of their age. No one asked how they had come to be in the business so young and they didn’t share their own lack of understanding in the matter.
Sam still researched it from time to time, throwing out tidbits that he found about memory loss and what could cause it when they came across something, but they didn’t have enough information to figure it out. Mostly, they just ignored it, continuing with the hunt that had been the only thing they knew upon waking.
Sam’s eighteen birthday passed quietly. They didn’t go to the bar as they had for his seventeen or for Dean’s twenty second. Sam’s legal coming of age didn’t mean anything special to Sam but it meant something to Dean so Sam let him do what he wanted. What Dean had wanted was a nice hotel, a big steak dinner, and Sam naked underneath him.
He couldn’t explain it to Sam. He couldn’t tell him that he’d spent a year waiting for Sam to regret this, to want a way out and have nothing because he wasn’t old enough to be on his own and had to put up with Dean until he was. It didn’t make any sense because he knew better than anyone that Sam could take care of himself regardless of the age factor, but it didn’t stop the doubt that crept into his mind from time to time.
At eighteen, Sam could do anything, be anything he wanted to be. He had his GED and a wallet full of cash and credit that would see him to the other side of the country if he wanted. Instead, he was with Dean, his voice broken and pleading for his lover, begging for more. Dean didn’t disappoint him; in fact he’d almost made him lose his voice. For Sam’s eighteenth birthday, Dean gave him the night of his young life.
It was just another day really.
“Sam? You find what you were looking for?”
Sam shrugged. “A lot of bad things happened in that house Dean.”
His voice was softer than normal and Dean wanted to take the pain of that from him, but there was nothing he could do. They couldn’t help the dead, but they did what they could for the living. “Think we can take care of this thing tonight?”
He led Sam across the street to the park. There were a lot of people out, couples walking together, kids running with their parents, dogs running with their owners. It was the type of thing that calmed Sam, to see people living their normal lives because they kept the monsters at bay for them. It had some advantages for Dean as well, a hot dog stand with amazing chili dogs and an ice cream truck that went around every twenty minutes. He knew because he’d been sitting there for the last three hours while Sam was doing research, trying to talk to the two witnesses of the ghost on Hendericks Avenue.
“I hope so Dean. The attacks are escalating. If we don’t get it tonight I don’t think this ghost is going to be happy pushing people around. It wants blood.”
Dean nodded as he grabbed Sam and pushed him back into a small area of the park. They could look out onto the larger field but it was one of a series of small cut aways that were intended to give a little privacy.
“Dean?”
Dean pressed Sam back against one of the trees and kissed him. Sam’s hands were curled into his shirt a second later, pulling Dean closer. He could feel the tension in Sam’s body and he knew it wasn’t the type of tension he could get rid of so easily, but he could remind Sam of why they did what they did, of what they had in each other.
When Sam pulled back, his forehead resting against Dean’s, he had a faint smile on his lips. “I’m okay Dean,” he said softly.
“Course you are,” Dean said, allowing himself to nuzzle up against Sam’s ear for a moment. It was a small show of affection and one that Sam would appreciate. His lips were at the tip of Sam’s ear and he smiled into the next words. “I’ve got you.”
Sam laughed then and Dean let himself be pulled down to the ground. Dean put his back up against the tree trunk and Sam sat there for a little while, his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh as they watched the people go by in silence.
When Sam was finally relaxed, he sat up and looked back at Dean. “There were three murders committed in the same house, all children Dean. It could be any of them haunting the street.”
Dean sighed and understood now why Sam had been so tense. Having to dig up and burn three bodies was going to be a nightmare and not because of the digging. Dean hated when it was kids. It was just harder to look down into a child’s coffin and do what you needed to do and Sam knew that Dean wasn’t good with this. He liked children even if he knew he’d never settle down and have any of his own.
“Sam,” he reached out a hand to try to express his gratitude, knowing that Sam was worked up for him, that all the extra research had been about trying to make this easier for Dean.
Sam didn’t look up at him and Dean knew something wasn’t right, beyond this hunt. He watched helplessly as Sam clutched his head, his whole body tensing up. Dean grabbed him and kept him from falling over, but he wasn’t even sure Sam was aware of it. “Sammy? What’s happening?” Sam didn’t respond and he was about to call 911 when Sam’s hands gripped Dean’s arms, leveling himself off.
“Dean?”
“I’m right here Sammy. What’s going on?”
Sam’s eyes were pained but clear now and he looked at Dean in confusion. “I don’t… I don’t know what that was.”
“Tell me,” he said it as gently as he could but nothing would hide the order in those words, no matter how much concern they held.
“I… I think… I saw a baby Dean. I was in a nursery and there was a demon there. He was just … watching this baby. I think it was a vision Dean.”
“A vision? Like a psychic see the future kinda thing?”
“I don’t know. The demon was wearing older styled clothes. I’m not sure but…” he looked at Dean like he knew he was crazy. “I think it was in the past.”
Dean put a hand to Sam’s face. “Come on Sammy. We’re going back to the motel.”
“Dean, no, I’m okay now. Really. Just let me relax here a little while.”
“Sam,”
“I’m okay. I just want to rest.”
Sam was pushing his way into Dean’s chest, leaning back into him so hard that it knocked him off balance and his back hit the tree trunk with a thud. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and just burrowed into him like he was child who needed protected from the nightmares.
Dean wanted to take him away from the park and anything that could possibly touch him, but Sam knew what he needed. Instead, he enveloped his lover in his arms, murmuring comforting platitudes that meant nothing but that would let Sam know he wasn’t alone, no matter what was happening.
He didn’t know how long he held him before he realized Sam was asleep. It was even longer before Dean let go.
“I don’t know why we’re here Sam,” Dean said honestly as he walked around the neighborhood. “If this is something from the past, it’s not like we can do anything about it.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I just feel like, maybe, if I come here, I can get some kind of peace with this thing. Maybe I could actually sleep through the night.”
“That’d be nice,” Dean said with a shake of his head. Since the first vision Sam had of the nursery scene, they’d come more frequently until Sam was waking from it every night. The ones during the day put him in enough pain to knock him to his knees and he’d even started to get nose bleeds. Bobby hadn’t heard of anything like that, but he was reluctant to ask around too much. Hunters could be funny about anything to do with psychics. And demons. It was why they were in Lawrence, Kansas, walking around the neighborhood Sam was sure he was seeing in his dreams.
“I can’t help it Dean.”
“I know Sammy. I don’t blame you for this. I just… I hate not being able to stop it.”
“Can I help you boys?”
Dean stopped as they came face to face with their speaker. She was a short woman, larger framed but with a sense of confidence about her that made Dean uncomfortable.
“Just walking through the neighborhood,” Dean said, giving her his best smile.
“Uh hu. I think you two had best follow me.”
“And you are?” Sam asked.
“Missouri Mosley. I knew something was coming to see me today, I just didn’t know what. Good thing I had a cancellation.”
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“Don’t you stand around trying to talk back to me Dean. You and Sam have come a long way to find out what is happening to him. I expect you to keep up.”
Sam just shrugged when he looked over at him, so they did as they were told, leaving behind the house that made him think of white picket fences and a wife and children and a life he’d never have. He looked at Sam and smiled, more than okay with knowing this was his lot in life.
Missouri told them to follow her and Dean did, just a few blocks over to her house where a sign in the front lawn proclaimed her a psychic. It was tastefully done, not the type that you saw used by most charlatans who wanted to use glitz and glamour to fool people.
She set them in her parlor and there was an old world charm to the place, a warmth that made Dean think of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven and long evenings on a porch swing. When she came in with a pitcher of sweet tea Dean poured for all three of them.
Dean watched the other two as they drank. Sam kept his eyes down as if he was suddenly ashamed of something and Missouri was watching him with open interest. He didn’t like the look in her eyes, like she knew something that neither of them did.
“So, a psychic huh? Most come in handy with the lotto.”
“I know you’re skeptical Dean, and I’m willing to give you a little slack because of your concern for Sam, but don’t think I won’t find a long wooden spoon and paddle your ass if you disrespect me.”
Dean was taken back by the words but Sam actually smiled. “You said we were coming to see you.”
“You have a powerful gift Sam, one that can sometimes be a curse. There aren’t that many true psychics in the world and we’re drawn towards one another.”
“I just… I only have this vision. It’s from the past.”
“Your mind is trying to show you something you need to know,” Missouri said. “Does the baby look familiar, or the house?”
“No. I mean, we found the house today, but it’s not something I recognize.”
She reached out and took Sam’s hand in hers but dropped it immediately, her eyes wide. “Dean, give me your hand.” She held hers out and it was only Sam’s beseeching look that made Dean drop his hand into hers. She dropped it just as fast.
“Oh boys,” she said sadly. “Something has ripped a part of you, something strong took from you and the only thing left in its wake is the hole it left behind.”
“Our memories,” Dean said softly to Sam.
“What do you mean Dean?” Missouri’s voice was soft but there was steel behind it, an order draped in concern.
He sighed as he looked at Sam but his lover was no help. He wanted to trust the lady and Dean wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight it. They were both too tired. “We woke up in a motel room, a little over two years ago. Neither of us had any memory. We realized pretty quickly that we were hunters though and we’ve been hunting together ever since.”
“No memories at all?”
“None. Hell, I don’t even know if my name is Dean.”
“That might explain it then,” she said looking at Sam. “Your gift, it’s trying to help you fill in the void that’s been left in your spirit.”
“By showing me a demon hovering over a child’s bed?”
“You said you saw what happened in the past. I can’t help you much Sam, but I can tell you that if your gift is trying to show you this thing, you had best listen. Maybe what you need to know is tied in with that child.” She took his hand again but Dean saw the slight flinch as she did so. “I can tell you this though. Until you figure it out, you won’t find peace.”
They were out on the street again, the Impala roaring under his hands before he opened his mouth. “So, we investigate the house. Like we were going to. What was the point of all that if she was just going to tell us to do what we were already doing? This is why no one believes in psychics Sam.”
“At least I have someone to call now. I know she’s there if I have trouble.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Come on Dean. I’m exhausted and all I want to do right now is sleep.”
“Library in the morning?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. Let’s see what we can find out about that house in the morning.”
On to Chapter Six