Okay, here we are! Sorry about the long wait, I've been exploring other fanfiction universes, but I'm back now. Though it may be a little bit before I do the next vision. However, the more reiviews – the more motivated I'll be! Anyway on with the show!
Oh, by the way, I didn't really add on to this vision, just did the scene in the show and I also did the scene immediately after the vision because I like that scene and it's also about the vision. :)
Disclaimer: If I owned them would I be writing fanfiction? Yeah, didn't think so. *sigh*
Thanks to Little Miss Artist for beta-ing!
Dedicated to judyann who requested this episode, which just so happens to be one of my favorites. Hope you like it!
Season 1 Episode 14: Nightmare - Vision 1
"So what do you have?" Dean asks from his position on the bed farthest from me with his feet in between the two beds. He's cleaning all the weapons, which are laid out on his bed and a bit on mine. I finish sticking the picture to a board with our evidence and research for this case.
"A whole lot of nothing," I grudgingly admit. "Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built."
"What about the land?" Well, at least he's giving me a chance. I know everything points to suicide, but I just know it's not. So at least Dean's giving me a chance to prove it's homicide.
"No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property," I say as I turn to face him. He finishes cleaning the weapon in his hand before looking up.
"Hey, man, I told you, I searched that house up and down. There were no cold spots, no sulfur scent, nada." I know he's trying to get me to see that it was suicide, that is the reasonable conclusion, but hey, when has anything we've ever done been reasonable?
"And the family said everything was normal?" I ask as I sit down on my bed, with my back to him, but twist to look at him when he starts speaking.
"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed?" Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to admit it. "I used the infrared thermal scanner, nan, there was nothing." Yeah of course not, that would make our job just too damn easy because this is not, I repeat, NOT a suicide.
I start to feel a dull ache in my head but pass it of as a headache – it has been a difficult day.
"So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself? And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"
Dull ache just notched up to a bad throb.
"I don't know," Liar, you do too think he killed himself, you just know I don't think that so you don't want to say I'm wrong – which maybe a tiny piece of me is grateful for that. "But I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."
Bad throb just jumped up to pounding headache.
"Yeah," I sigh.
Okay, that headache? Yeah, now it's a splitting pain, like someone's trying to crack my skull in two.
"Well, you know, maybe, uh- maybe it has nothing to do with the house." My head is hurting so bad I can barely get my thoughts straight, let alone get them out of my mouth right. "Maybe, it's just, uh," I turn away from him and scrunch up my face in pain, unconsciously bringing my hand up to massage my temple. "gosh-maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." My other hand, the one not massaging my head, has a death grip on my knee trying, unsuccessfully, to alleviate some of the pain.
He pauses before worriedly saying, "What's wrong with you?"
Splitting headache? Yeah it just broke the scale of pain and is now completely indescribable. I can hear my breath getting ragged. I inhale sharply and fall of the bed, clutching my head as I realize I'm being hit with a vision.
"Yeah – my head!" Is all I manage to get out, hoping he'll get the gist. I hear Dean say something and next thing I know he's kneeling in front of me holding my shoulders. I give a yell as pain explodes in my head and I'm no longer in a motel room.
Roger Miller enters his kitchen holding a bag of groceries which he sets on the counter. He grabs a beer and takes a sip, his back turned away from the door. Something dark flits in without him noticing.
The window across the kitchen opens. Roger, feeling the draft turns around. He closes the window and locks it. He turns back to the groceries and starts putting them away. The window unlocks itself and opens again.
Roger, now very confused, walks back to it and tries to shut it, but it doesn't budge. After a few more unsuccessful pushes, he sticks his head out and looks up to see if something holding it open.
The window suddenly slams down on Roger's head and a large amount of blood splatters on the glass.
Suddenly I'm back sitting on the motel floor, panting and sweating, with Dean kneeling across from me, still holding my shoulders, looking extremely worried.
And even though my head hurts like I was just hit by a frickin' truck, I manage to blurt out in a blind panic, "It's happening again! Something's gonna kill Roger Miller!"
Dean keeps shooting me glances while he's driving as I talk on the phone. I must look like crap, if how I feel is anything to go by.
"Roger Miller," I tell the lady.
"Would you like the phone number as well?" She asks.
"No, no, just the address please."
"Okay," I hear her typing over the line for a minute before she says, "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120." I mentally jot that down.
"Okay, thanks," I say before I hang up. Dean's looking at me expectantly so I repeat to him the address. He nods and we sit in silence for a moment before he asks the question I knew was inevitable.
"Yeah," I say, though my head hurts and I feel ever slightly nauseous.
"If you're gonna hurl," How does he always know? "I'll pull the car over, you know, 'cause the upholstery-"
"I'm fine," It doesn't matter if I feel like shit as long as it saves Roger Millers life.
"Alright," though I can tell he knows I'm lying.
"Alright." I give a sigh. Honestly, I'm scared, terrified. This whole vision thing, yeah it's just getting worse. More intense, more painful…more freaky. I glance over at Dean. I can tell he knows something is bothering me and he'll definitely question me about it later, so might as well get it over with. Who knows, I might actually feel a bit better by the time we get there.
"Dean," he glances over to show he heard me, "I'm scared, man." He looks over and this time he looks scared. I suppose saying I'm scared probably freaked him okay – yeah, probably not the best first thing to say…after all, Winchesters don't get scared or if they do, they don't admit it. I figure I should probably give Dean something to go on so he can try to reassure me, even though I doubt it will reassure me because, come on, this whole vision thing? Yeah downright terrifying.
"If these nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seein' things when I'm awake? And these vision, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful," I add as an afterthought.
"Come on, man, it'll be alright. You'll be fine." I can tell he doesn't even 100% believe that himself.
"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 ask getting more and more hysterical with each question.
"I don't know, Sam, but we'll figure it out, okay? We face the unexplainable every single day, this is just another thing." No it's not just another thing! This is different! I just don't know how to say it to make him understand. So I try to show him from the factual point.
"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this." All valid points, but there's one thing I really want to know. "Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out." There, plain and simple. Am I a freak? Pretty basic.
"This doesn't freak me out."
"So what do you have?" I ask as I clean the weapons. I don't know why but cleaning the weapons always helps me relax. It's something I have complete and total control over, not to mention it has to be done anyway, so I guess it's kind of a handy habit to have.
"A whole lot of nothing. Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built." I can tell he's disappointed.
"What about the land?" I prompt him. I know Sam doesn't think this Miller dude killed himself, but we have to go on facts, not feelings, and the facts say suicide.
"No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property." I don't want him to think I don't believe in him or his hunter instincts, which I do, so I tried to go logically. He's a college boy, isn't he supposed to like logic?
"Hey, man, I told you I searched that house up and down. There were no cold spots, no sulfur scent, nada."
"And the family said everything was normal?" A hint of hopefulness in his voice.
"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed something? I used the infrared thermal scanner, man, there was nothing."
"So, what you think Jim Miller killed himself? And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"
"I don't know," I mean how do I know, it could be homicide, but it doesn't seem supernatural, so it's just not a case for us. "But I'm pretty sure that there's nothing supernatural about that house."
"Yeah. Well, you know, maybe, uh - maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe, it's just, uh – gosh," I don't know what it is, but suddenly something seems off. Something in Sam's voice maybe. I look up and do a double take. Sam's face is scrunched up in pain and one hand is applying pressure to his temples while the other hand has a death grip on his knee. Something is wrong.
"Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." Suddenly both hands fly up to his head and fear rockets up in me.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask, fear and concern evident in my voice, but I don't care because something is wrong with my brother and I can't make it better if I don't know what it is.
"Yeah – my head!" He says suddenly before sliding off the bed. I'm off the bed and over to him by the time he's on the floor.
"Sam? Hey. Hey! What's going on? Talk to me!" Please, please just say something, anything, so I know you're all right, because you look ready to pass out and the way your face is scrunched tells me you're in agonizing pain. He looks up at me, absolutely horrified and that look right there, terrifies me more than I care to admit.
His eyes suddenly focus on something I can't see. One thing's for sure, he can't see me anymore.
Oh, damn. A vision.
A couple different emotions flit across his face, confusion, concern and full blown terror, then he's back. He gasps like he hasn't taken a breath in a whole good damn year and he looks at me panicked.
"It's happening again! Something's gonna kill Roger Miller!"
Great. That's just great.
While Sam talks on the phone, I discreetly shoot him glances. He assured me he was fine as soon as he told me about the vision, but I don't believe him. He's never had a vision that intense before. I mean, holy shit, he had me panicked when he fell off the bed in pain.
I try to pay at least some attention to the road, but I'm so preoccupied with concern for Sammy, that it's hard to do. Well, at least if we crash, I have a legit reason to say I wasn't paying attention.
"Roger Miller…No, no just the address, please… Okay, thanks." Sam hangs up and turns to me and says "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120," I turn on my mental GPS to get us going in the right direction as I try to figure out the quickest way there. Once I have it, I sneak yet another glance at Sam. He looks…pale? Worried? Anxious? Sick? How about all of the above?
"You okay?" Yeah right, Dean, like he'll actually fess up to being sick, especially when someone's life is on the line. Stupid Sam and his never ending I'm fines. Though, I suppose that's a bit hypocritical…
Sam's 'yeah' brings me back to Earth.
"If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over, you know, 'cause the upholstery-" I added. I do have a manly reputation to uphold. Not to mention, Sam does actually look like he's gonna be sick, and I really would rather it wasn't in my car.
"I'm fine." Yeah right. But I can tell I'm not going to win this and it probably won't help anything right now by pestering Sam.
"Alright." I guess my disbelief showed in my voice because Sam immediately replied with a slightly annoyed, "Just drive."
"Alright," I replied. He let out a long sigh and I immediately knew there was something on his mind.
"Dean, I'm scared, man." Okay, I knew something was on his mind, but that was so blunt I looked over at him. He had to be really freaked to admit to being scared.
"These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seein' things when I'm awake? And these visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful." He said.
"Come on, man, it'll be alright. You'll be fine," I try to reassure him. I do believe those words, honestly (because I won't stop until Sam is fine, even if I have to kill every goddamn demon on this planet I will) but I'm so doubtful that Sam will belief them, that a hint of doubt makes it into my voice. Sam, his ears so sharp in detecting emotion, picked up on it and naturally assumed I doubted him.
"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?" He was clearly getting more and more spooked by the minute, so I decided to come clean to him, after all, he spilled to me.
"I don't know, Sam, but we'll figure it out, okay?" I will. Trust me, I will find a way. "We face the unexplainable every single day, this is just another thing." Okay, maybe that's not 100% true, this is different, but that's not really what I'm trying to get at. I'm trying to get at that we'll figure it out and get through it together – just like we always do.
"No. It's never been us," he says stubbornly, "It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."
Does this freak me out? Yes. Do I plan to just go along with it anyway? Hell no. So why worry until I know what we're dealing with and how to stop it. No need to freak out over nothing.
"This doesn't freak me out."
Oh yeah, he so doesn't believe me.
So there's vision number 1. I do plan on doing the others from this episode (though maybe not the one where Sam is in the closet, because that's just Sam, no Dean, but we'll see) so anyway, thanks for reading and please please review!