Don't own Supernatural, but absolutely LOVE it!
This an OC fic, someone whose 'seen' the Winchester adventures.
"Weird," Elena muttered as she read the paper over breakfast.
"What?" Her dad asked, watching her as he set a plate in front of Laura and sat down across from her to eat his own.
"Some kid is saying he saw a werewolf out at the lake." Laura took a bite of eggs. "Cops are saying just to watch out for wild dogs or wolves."
"Why's that weird?"
"You don't think it's weird that a vet's kid could be mistaken about whether something was a dog or not?"
"Honey," Her dad sighed, then grinned. "It was probably dark, and I don't really think it's that strange."
Laura shrugged her ten-year-old shoulders. "Sorry."
The conversation was forgotten, but Laura kept her eye out for 'wild dogs or wolves' for the next month. And it's a month later, after a day when the temp hit at least 100, that Laura and some of her friends are swimming in the lake, and hear what was sounded like a human's scream or howl.
Laura runs all the way home.
The next day she goes back, just to prove to herself that she's not scared.
"Hey," a young voice says easily from behind her.
She jumps ten feet, turns, and almost hits the boy standing a few yards behind her. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
The boy smirks, raises his eyebrows at her, and says sarcastically, "I said 'hey'." He looks around the small beach area. "Are you here alone?" He sounds shocked.
"Yeah," Laura says and frowns. "What are you doing here?"
The boy glances back at her. "I heard there was a wild dog running around here."
Laura shivers. "Yeah, I was here last night when everyone heard it."
"You heard it? From where?"
Laura points in the vague direction. "From over there. You want to go check it out?"
The boy stares at her. "You're not scared?"
"Of a wolf? Oh, please, I see wild dogs all the time out on my grandparents land."
"What if it's not a wolf?" The boy looks suddenly menacing, and his voice changes as though he's trying to scare her. "It could be a monster, and it could eat kids like you."
"Kids like us," Laura says, grinning. "I'm so not scared."
"I'm not a kid," the boy protests. "I go hunting with my dad all the time."
Laura rolls her eyes, but before she can say anything more, a man her father's age emerges from the woods next to the lake. "Dean," he calls, eyeing her warily. "Time to go, son."
The boy nods, and half-waves at Laura. "See you later."
Then he runs to his father, and to Laura's surprise, they both go into the woods.
A couple of days later, two hunters find a burned out cabin, a man's corpse inside. No one knows who he was, and no one feels too bad after they find a human heart (not his) in his fridge.
The year Laura turns twelve she has her first period, kisses her first boy, and starts having dreams that come true. She dreams of people with black eyes, of ghosts, and of monsters she can't begin to describe. And through it all, she can hear a man's voice saying, "Hey, you son of a bitch, come and get some," and she sees an arm, with what looks like a handprint burned onto it.
Sometimes, she hears another voice saying, "Hey, what's your name?" And each time when she goes to answer, the dream ends.
This, she thinks to herself, is when it really sucks that she has no mother to talk to. She's tried, so many times, to remember the fire that claimed her mother's life, but no memories ever come.
Sometimes she dreams of a knife, and hears her own voice saying softly, "Should have learned to throw."
Those dreams she wakes from, gasping, tears in her eyes, terror in her heart.
She stands outside on her porch, watching the night sky, and such a fear comes over her that it makes it hard to breathe.
She remembers a symbol of protection from her dreams. She carves it into every doorway and under every windowsill, and it lets her sleep at night. Sometimes she thinks something is staring in at her, but there is nothing there every time she looks. Those nights, she dreams of a man with yellow eyes.
She goes into a haunted house that year and damned if those ghosts don't look real.
There is screaming to her left, and then a boom of what Laura somehow knows is a shotgun. Unable to help herself she walks into the room, and sees an older man with a shotgun in hand, pulling a woman to her feet and looking around the room warily.
A woman phases into existence two feet ahead of her, and the man is yelling at her to get the Hell out.
Laura looks to her left and sees a fire poker, and something she doesn't understand tells her to grab it and swing. And she does, and the woman disappears.
When Laura looks at the man, he's watching her, and she doesn't know why she yells, "John, her name was Mary! Mary Frank, and she's in Oakview!"
The man stares at her, and then she's running, as fast as she can. She doesn't stop until she's in her bed.
The next day word spreads that the grave of Mary Frank (1840-1865) was vandalized in Oakview Cemetery, burned out.
Laura shivers for reasons she can't explain.
And the man she called John never finds her, if he even looked.
The next year, she starts having visions in the middle of the day, asleep or not. She gets a reputation as a schizo, and begs her dad to move.
Miraculously he agrees.
Laura tosses her hair over her shoulder and sighs at the stupid kids who wouldn't just take their ice cream to go. She'd gotten this job the day she turned 16, mostly because it had become her favorite hangout since moving to this town three years ago. She went out to the lobby and started collecting the trash, and was halfway to the dumpster when the headache hit her. "No," she muttered, "Not now, please."
She leans against the dumpster, her hand to her head.
A blonde-haired girl lay in what looked like a grave, or a stone coffin, maybe. She was trying not to panic, and she had a lighter out, looking around.
Laura could hear something moving around out of the girl's sight.
Come for me, Dean, the girl was thinking. Please, please, come for me, because this bastard likes blondes.
Laura held her hand out as though she could touch the girl, and suddenly the vision was gone. She stands there, trembling, wondering if what she had seen was the future, or the present.
Laura turns, and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping, or maybe even screaming.
The blonde haired girl was standing four feet away, and Laura recognizes her suddenly as the daughter of the woman that runs the roadhouse outside of town.
The girl frowns. "Laura? We're in school together, English?"
Laura nods slightly, but can't remember the girls name to save her life.
"Jo," the girl says helpfully.
"Right, Jo, yeah." Laura sighs. "Sorry. Long night."
"It's okay, I just wanted to know if there was any way you'd let me grab a couple of cups before I head home, and I'll pay you back tomorrow." Jo grins. "Kinda short on cash."
Laura stared at her a moment, and noted the way Jo's hair wasn't quite long enough yet. A few months, maybe a year or two, until she'd be trapped in that hell. "Sure," she said softly. Then she straightened her back, and grinned. "Yeah, and don't worry about paying it."
"Really? You sure? I can pay you tomorrow."
Laura remembered something Jo was known for, and suddenly smiled. "I'll make you a deal. You teach me how to throw a knife, and I'll buy you whatever ice cream you want."
Jo watches her a moment. "You havin' trouble?" Her voice promised a special kind of trouble for anyone causing any trouble.
"No," Laura said softly, thinking of her dreams. "Not yet."
Laura starts spending time at Jo's, lying to her father, since she doubt he'd like her hanging out at a roadhouse. She helps out when they're busy, and Jo teaches her how to handle a knife. Laura meets Jo's mom, Ellen, and wonders at the things she can see hovering on the edge of her mind. Darkness, and an old grief turned into bitterness. She meets Ash, and is never quite sure what to make of him.
And in the afternoon's, when there's no one there, Jo teaches her to throw a knife. And eventually, she knows she can take care of herself.
Two months later, Laura wakes gasping, crying, reaching for someone she can't remember anymore. Her mother perhaps? One of the men she hears in her dreams?
And when the fear leaves her, she knows it's time to move. Where, she doesn't know, but something is pulling her, and she is going to outrun it if she can.
She's been saving, knowing this day would come, somehow. It doesn't take long to pack a duffel.
She says her goodbyes to her father in a letter, promising to write. Then she goes out to her Jeep, and finds herself driving to the roadhouse.
It's after one in the morning, and the roadhouse is still pulsing, but with a crowd now that watches her every move. She doesn't feel lust from them, well, not most of them. There is a wariness in their eyes, and she wonders what kind of lives they lead to make them wary of a twenty-year old girl.
Ellen spots her first, and the woman is wise enough to know something is different in the way Laura stands there, like she's memorizing the place. Laura doesn't need to read her mind to know the woman will fear for her.
"Laura?" Jo comes up to her, shooting a man a dirty look as she passes him. "I hate classic rock," she says hatefully.
Laura knows it isn't true, but she only smiles and nods toward the door. Jo follows her out, frowning. "What's up?"
"I'm leaving. Tonight."
Jo spies the Jeep and raises her eyebrows. "Something wrong?"
Laura has never told her about her dreams, and she never wanted to, so she compromises. "Bad things happen after dark, Jo. You know that as well as I do."
For a moment, Jo's eyes flash from some memory, or a story she's heard, maybe. She's got the same darkness on the edge of her mind that Ellen has, but it hasn't turned to bitterness. "Well, yeah, of course. That's why you carry a knife, right?"
"That's why I carry a knife, and wear an iron cross, and keep salt close at hand."
Jo freezes, then says softly. "Laura?"
Laura shrugs. "And you've never told me, but the knife you keep with you, it was your dad's. He hunted things. Things I don't want to know about." She tilts her head at Jo. "I'm running, I've got to run."
Jo hesitates, glances towards the roadhouse. One scream, she's thinking, and they'll all come running. "Why?"
"Because something is after me, and I don't plan to let it catch up."
Jo relaxes, and Laura realizes she was a threat in Jo's eyes. "I can talk to my mom. We know people, people that can protect you, from whatever it is."
No, you can't, Laura wants to say, and she doesn't know how she's sure, but she is. "No, thanks. I've always known...I'm meant to run. Some are meant to fight, but not me."
Jo stares at her a moment. "You'll be careful? You'll call if you need help? You'll keep in touch?"
"Of course," Laura lies easily, because she knows she'll never speak to her friend again. She holds her arms out and hugs Jo tightly. "Thank you."
Then she walks to her Jeep and drives as far away as she can, as fast as she can.
Wow, this has turned into a two-parter. PLEASE REVIEW!!