Dig Your Grave

07. Home

Sam woke up with a jolt after dreaming of a blonde woman in her bedroom, screaming.

The next morning, Dean was on the computer, Sam was drawing a picture of a tree, and Millie was sipping a cup of coffee, trying her best to wake up.

"All right," Dean said. "I've been cruisin' some websites. 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 looked up from his drawing. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No. I'm listening. Keep going," Sam replied.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." He waved his hand in front of Sam's face. "Any of these blowin' up your skirt, pal?"

Sam looked at his picture. "Wait. I've seen this."

"Seen what?" Dean asked as Sam got up from the bed and searched through his duffel bag. "What are you doing?" He found a photo of their family from when he was a baby and compared the photo to his drawing to see they were the same.

"Dean, Millie, I know where we have to go next."

"Where?" Dean and Millie asked.

"Back home -- back to Kansas."

"Okay, random," Dean said. "Where'd that come from?"

Sam showed the photo to Dean. "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house. The house where Mom died."

"Yeah."

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, the rebuilt it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Okay, look, 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?" Millie asked with a frown.

"Uh... it's just, um... look, just trust me on this, okay?" He started to walk away.

Dean followed his brother. "Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me and Millie a little more than that."

"I can't really explain it is all."

"Well, tough. I'm not goin' anywhere until you do."

Sam sighed and his brother waited expectantly. "I have these nightmares."

Dean and Millie nodded. "I've noticed."

"And sometimes... they come true."

"Come again?"

"Look, Dean, Millie... I dreamt about Jessica's death -- for days before it happened."

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man," Dean told him. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence." He sat on the bed.

"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?"

"I don't know," Dean and Millie admitted.

Sam sat across from Dean and Millie. "What do you mean you don't know, Dean, Millie? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"