Ashes

08. 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 and Sam was drawing a picture of a tree.

"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 her 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, sis?"

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

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

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

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home -- back to Kansas."

"Okay, random. 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?"

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

Saoirse pursed her lips. "Look, Dean, we have to go. Sam and I both saw it."

Dean turned to her. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You saw the same thing? Saoirse, what the hell?"

"Hey, I can't control demigod dreams. They just come. But if Sam and I saw the same thing, we gotta go."

Dean turned to his brother. "Talk."

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

Dean nodded. "I've noticed."

"And sometimes... they come true."

"Come again?"

"Look, Dean... 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." 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. And Saoirse dreamt the same thing. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted.

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