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01x14 (part 3)

Season One Episode Fourteen: Nightmare

SYNOPSIS: sam does his best to diffuse a situation, but it ends in tragedy and another weird development

WORD COUNT: 3917

Dean gets everyone in the car quickly and you don’t ask questions until Sam’s breathing steadies and his face gets some color back. Dean just starts driving to the Miller’s before Sam gives any details, but eventually, he’s okay enough to tell you. “Max is doing it,” he says. “Everything I’ve been seeing.”

“Are you sure?” You ask from the backseat. Sam shakes his head, more in disbelief than an answer to your question. You had a hard time believing him, but he says that he saw it and his visions haven’t been wrong this far, so you take him at his word.

“How’s he pulling it off?” Dean asks, glancing from the road to his brother. Sam presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose and scrunches his face up, shooting pains still lingering.

“I don’t know,” Sam says and shakes his head. “It looked like telekinesis.”

“So he’s a psychic?” You ask. Dean glances back and smirks just a little bit.

“More like a spoon bender,” he jokes. You glare at him a sigh and he looks back at the road. Sam shakes his head, too, at Dean’s joke but he doesn’t acknowledge it otherwise.

“I didn’t even realize it, but this whole time, he was there. He was outside of the garage when his dad died. He was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions - I wasn’t connecting to the Miller’s. I was connecting to Max. The thing I don’t get is why,” Sam rants. You can tell he’s beating himself up for not connecting the dots. “I guess because we’re so alike?” Sam suggests and you scoff from the backseat, making him look back at you.

“You’re nothing like him,” you say. Sam licks his lips and rolls his head, leaning it against the headrest and no longer looking at you.

“We both have psychic abilities,” he says as if that was all Sam was. A weird science experiment. “We’re both-“

“Both what?” Dean cuts him off harshly. “Max is a monster. He’s killed two people and now he’s going for a third.”

“With what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people - I’m sorry man. I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane,” Sam argues.

“That doesn’t justify murdering your entire family,” you say, interjecting your two cents. “He is no different than anything else we’ve hunted. We have got to stop him.” You point your finger down against the upholstery of the car and Sam’s face hardens, his nostrils flare, but you think he got your point.

“We’re not gonna kill him,” he says between his teeth. Dean pulls the car over in front of the Miller’s house and it was time to make the final decision.

“Then what?” Dean asks, taking his hands off the steering wheel and looking at his brother. “Hand him over to the cops and say, “lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind.”

“No way,” Sam insists. You sigh and unbuckle from your seat and the boys both look back at you. “He is just a person. We can talk to him.” Dean looks out the window, irritated at Sam’s argument and you gather your things, getting ready to do whatever you need to do to protect Alice and your boys. “Guys, promise me you’ll follow my lead on this!”

“Fine!” You agree, throwing your hands up in the air. Sam’s shoulders fall in relief, but he doesn’t smile or show it on his face. Eventually, Dean mumbles an agreement but he just pushes open the door and doesn’t say another word.

You follow Dean up the path to the house, Sam following behind. He was far enough behind that he didn’t hear you tell Dean you shoved a gun in your pants and he didn’t hear Dean say he did the same thing.

You don’t bother to knock, instead, you push through the door like cops on a mission to find Alice and Max both in tears, the scene in Sam’s head slowly unfolding. “Father’s?” Alice asks, shocked but relieved. Her eyes are filled with tears but you can see she’s trying hard to hold them back, to pretend nothing is wrong in the face of three strangers.

“What are you doing here?” Max asks. You can see him just around the corner, the knife dropping onto the cutting board as his focus breaks and is now on you and the boys.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” Dean starts, slowly. You watch as Max puts his hand on the knife and tries to hide it from your view. You hesitate to say anything next so Sam steps up and takes the lead, just as he wanted.

“Max, can we uh, talk to you for a moment outside?” He asks. Strong. Confident. Just like he knew what he was doing but you can practically hear his heart race.

“What about?” Max asks. His eyes are wet, his face is blotchy and he’s shaking.

“It’s private,” Sam says. “I wouldn’t want to bother your mother with it.” Sam chuckles slightly, pointing his hand toward Alice. It was a friendly gesture, one meant to relieve the obvious tension in the room. “We won’t be long at all, promise.”

Max looks at Alice and Alice looks away, not wanting to make eye contact with her son and you don’t blame her. Max hesitates for a minute and then finally agrees. Sam smiles and folds his hands together in front of his chest. “Great,” he says.

Dean takes the lead toward the front door, Max right behind him. You hang back for a second to check on Alice, silently and with your eyes nodding that it would be okay. You think maybe you shouldn’t have done that, but you don’t care. You hear Dean open the front door and then the door slam shut, the shutters slamming closed and you whip your head around.

Dean is frantically looking around the house at all the entrances and exits being shut off. You look at Max, his eyes deep in focus as he shuts them all with his mind. “You’re not priests!” He yells. Dean pulls his gun, switching off the safety and pointing it right at the boy.

“Dean!” You scold as Alice gasps from behind you. He doesn’t hold the gun for long, Max rips it out of his hands in seconds and it slides across the floor, right into the psycho’s hands.

Sam puts his arm across your chest, pulling you closer to him and blocking your body. You think you should go protect Alice but Sam is holding you in place and he stops Dean from going after Max as Max points the gun right at the three of you. “Max, what is happening?” Alice asks, her voice high and shrill.

“Shut up!” He yells.

“What are you doing?” She asks again, taking steps closer but Max flips her around with his mind, throwing her against the counter and she screams until she gets knocked out but the granite top. Sam twitches, his instinct to go after her and you have to force your feet to stay still.

“What are you doing here?” Max yells, his hands shaking. He could accidentally shoot at any moment. Or on purpose, you suppose.

“We’re just here to talk,” Sam says calmly. He was anything but.

“Yeah? That’s why you brought this?” He waves the gun in the air and you flinch. You press your arm down against your own gun, feel the warm metal against your stomach. You pray he doesn’t see it.

“That was a mistake, alright? So was lying about who we were, but no more lying, okay?” Sam tries. You look over at Dean and he’s looking around frantically, trying to think of something to do to get you out of this situation and you know he’s looking at you to pull your weapon but you don’t. “Hear me out.”

“About what?” Max’s voice is shaky and it cracks under the pressure.

“I saw you do it,” Sam blurts. You’re shocked and you look up at him but he doesn’t look at you. “I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened. I’m having visions, Max, about you.”

“You’re crazy,” Max says. You resist the urge to scoff.

“So you weren’t gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” He asks, pointing to his eye. “Right here?” Sam is slowly taking steps toward Max and your chest tightens every time he does. Once he’s no longer between you and Dean, you slide over and press your body into Dean’s. “Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do,” Sam pushes. “I was drawn here, all right? To help you.”

Max lets out a sob. He looks like he’s about to put the gun down at the sight of his stepmom, nearly lifeless on the floor. “No one can help me,” he cries.

“Let me try,” Sam pleads. “We’ll just talk, me and you. We’ll get these two and Alice out of here,” he suggests. You try to step forward but Dean stops you. You shook him a glare and he lets you go.

“No way,” you say. Max looks over Sam’s shoulder at you, the gun following his gaze. As he stares at you, sharp and intense, the entire house shakes.

“Nobody leaves this house!” He yells. The chandelier above you clinks as the pieces hit each other. The noise slowly becomes unbearable.

“No one has to, all right? They’ll just go upstairs,” Sam compromises.

“You are not being left alone with him,” you order.

“I am not leaving you alone,” Dean agrees. Neither one of you back down, your eyes are trying to stay on Max but you end up looking at Sam anyway, but Dean’s gaze is not faltering.

“Yes you guys are,” Sam says through his teeth at Dean but then he speaks to Max again. “You’re in charge here, we all know that. No one is gonna do anything that you don’t wanna do, but I’m talking five minutes, man,” he says.

Dean tries to stop him but Sam holds his hand up to stop him from talking. The shaking intensifies and Max shakes harder and then all at once, it stops. “Go,” he tells Dean, pointing to the stairs with his gun. “You too,” he says to you.

You turn to Dean and whisper, “we can’t, can we?” Dean shrugs and he grabs your hand, bringing you with him to the kitchen where you help him collect Alice. Her body is heavy from her lack of movement, she’s just 120lbs of dead weight but with a little coaxing, she wakes up enough to walk herself up the stairs.

You grab a wet towel from the bathroom as Dean lays Alice down with a glass of water. She sips on it, trying to regain her strength and you hover by the door with Dean. “Were you telling the truth before? When you said that you weren’t worried,” you ask. You’re scared for the answer and you brace yourself.

Dean sighs and he looks over at Alice. “No, I’m really not,” he says. You tilt your head to the side, questioning the authenticity of his statement and he just sighs. “I have to not be worried, okay? Why? Are you?”

You ring the towel out in your hands, droplets of water hitting your boot. “Kind of. I’m freaked out for him and for me. It hasn’t happened in a while, but those feelings I get. Those intense gut feelings, they’re not right,” you tell Dean. Your voice is barely over a whisper, but you doubt that Alice can hear you. Or that she cares.

“Listen,” Dean puts his hand on top of yours to stop you from flooding the entire room. “I know, okay? I hear you and if you need to talk about it, I’m here. But we have to be strong for Sam because if we’re not, he will break.” He is so sure of himself and you want to beg him to give Sam some more credit than that, but you know he might not deserve it.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Go get more water on this.” Dean taps the rag that’s in your hand and you offer him a small smile. His fingers brush your forearm as you turn to go out of the room and back into the bathroom when you hear Sam yell from downstairs. You’re about to turn to Dean but the door slowly creeps open on its own, a tired and angry Max entering.

Dean grabs your hand and he throws you behind him, blocking you from Max. You take it upon yourself to run to Alice, who’s now sitting up. She has blood all over her face, half-dried by now but you offer her the rag anyway despite it being almost dry. Max slams the door behind him and it’s still, quiet, ominous until Dean is thrown against the wall.

You debate between running to Dean and protecting Alice, your eyes darting between the two of them until Max pulls out a gun. You put your arm over Alice’s chest as Dean groans. He’s slow, but he gets up just as Max is raising the gun.

Max makes the gun float in the air, hovering in the space between good and evil. Or at least a troubled boy that may not be saved. He clicks off the safety, hovering the barrel right in front of Dean’s face and then he snaps it to Alice.

She whimpers, standing up and putting her body behind yours. Max flicks the gun at you, “move,” he orders. You hesitate and he flicks it again. Dean tries to take a step forward but Max flicks the gun at him. “Stay back.” His voice is calm, eerily so. Dean grabs your hand and he moves you to the side. Your chest constricts, leaving Alice alone like that. “It’s not about either of you.”

Dean moves you into the corner and he steps forward. “If you wanna kill, you gotta go through me first!” Dean yells. It feels like the next few minutes are in slow motion. Dean’s voice, echoing in the room. Max’s hard eyes, going soft and then hardening again. You swear you can see a smile in them. The trigger being constricted, further and further. Your feet moving fast, not bothering to communicate with your brain and then the door slamming open. The sound of the door hitting the wall, Sam yelling for Max to stop, startles the boy. The gun goes off but Max’s jump makes it hit the drywall behind you.

Max turns to face Sam, his face turning red with anger. You put your hand on your gun, ready to pull it and shoot if he tries anything. You keep your eyes firmly on Max and you try to read his body movement, his facial expressions, anything. He turns the gun to Sam and you pull out your own. “Don’t. Fucking. Shoot,” you say.

Max starts to cry. Veins in his face are popping out but he doesn’t turn to look at you. Instead, the gun snaps from facing Sam to facing Max and there’s nothing you can do because the trigger is pulled and Max is now dead on the floor.

+++

You hang your head down, staring at your feet as Alice talks to the police. She’s sobbing, telling a story but she’s eerily good at making it believable. You suppose it wasn’t that hard, because she really was alone now.

You make sure she’s okay before you leave. The sky is dark now, the air cold. It feels good against your skin, refreshing. You feel dirty, sad, angry. “If I would have just said something else. Gotten through to him somehow,” Sam starts his self-doubt mantra.

“Don’t,” you tell him. You put your hand on his arm and he shakes his head.

“Don’t what?”

“Torture yourself,” Dean interjects. “Nothing you could have said would have helped. It wouldn’t have mattered,” he tells Sam.

Sam looks like he doesn’t believe him. You feel guilty, too. For pulling the gun, for making Max feel like he didn’t have a choice but you felt like you didn’t have a choice, either.

“When I think about how he looked at me, right before, I should have said something,” Sam says.

“You mean when he had a gun pointed at you?” You say harsher than you mean to. “He was too far gone,” you mumble.

“You risked your life for that boy,” Dean tells Sam to try and make him feel better. Then he smirks and looks at you. “Hell, Y/N risked her life, too. You crazy son of a bitch.” You can’t help but smile just because it was so easy for Dean to make you laugh but Sam just shrugs. “Maybe if we’d have gotten there twenty years earlier,” Dean suggests.

“I’ll tell you one thing. We’re lucky we had dad,” Sam admits. Dean looks up, his features soften and he lets out a sigh.

“I’d never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Well, it could have gone a whole different way. A little more Jose, a little less demon hunting, we would have had Max’s childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him,” Sam says. You link your arm with his and rest your forehead against his bicep.

“All things considered,” Dean agrees as he pulls open the car door. You linger outside with Sam for a moment, hugging his arm tight. He uses his other hand to smooth down the hair on your head and he brushes his knuckles against your temple.

“All things considered,” you mumble.

In the car, Sam lets silence fill the air until he spills the details of his conversation with Max, which stuns you, to say the least. How his mother didn’t just die, she died the exact same way that the boys’ mom died. And Jessica. The similarities between Sam and Max and their powers, their timelines. It all just made no sense, but it was too much of a coincidence to not mean a thing.

He had another premonition, Sam. This time it was you and Dean who died. Sam’s outburst never happened, Max never missed. The bullet went right through you and then a second one through Dean. You shudder at the thought.

Back at the cabin, the mood has shifted. A little less tension, a little more exhaustion hitting as you pack. You try to keep your body moving, never stopping for even just one second. “I’ve been thinking,” Sam says as he throws some clothes in a suitcase.

“Uh-oh,” you tease. He laughs breathlessly and bumps his hip against yours.

“I’ve just been thinking,” he repeats, “why would this demon or whatever it is, why would it kill mom and Jessica and Max’s mother, you know? What does it want?” He asks.

“No idea,” Dean deadpans.

“You think maybe it was after us, after me and Max?” Sam asks. You stop packing and look at Sam. Dean mirrors your movement almost exactly.

“Why would you think that?” You ask.

Sam shrugs and stuffs a pair of pants in his overflowing suitcase. “I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions - we both had abilities, you know? Maybe it wanted us for some reason,” he suggests. He was throwing around ideas that he didn’t seem to have thought about very much. Just trying to piece everything together as best as he could.

“If it wanted you, it would have taken you, okay?” Dean says, clearly not wanting any part of this conversation. “This is not your fault. It is not about you.”

“Then what’s it about?” He asks, raising his voice. The tension was back, filling the empty space in the room. Your legs felt heavier, your arms more tired.

“It’s about that damn thing that did this to our family - the thing we are gonna find, the thing we’re gonna kill and that’s all,” Dean demands. Sam sighs and you feel yourself stand up a little straighter. Dean has his moments, where he reminds you so much of John it’s scary.

“Well, there’s something else, too,” Sam says cautiously. Dean throws his clothes down in a huff.

“Jeez, what?” He snaps. Sam stops packing and looks at his brother. You and Dean both move to the dresser where you had stored your clothes and start pulling things out.

“When Max locked me in that closet, with that big cabinet up against the door. I moved it,” he says, clearing his throat. He continues to pack like he hadn’t just said that and your entire body freezes.

“You what?” You ask. Dean chuckles next to you. He isn’t frozen, he’s as cool as a clam, folding clothes and looking at Sam like he belongs in the circus.

“You got more upper body strength than I gave you credit for,” he jokes.

“No man, I moved it. Like Max,” he clarifies. You clear your throat and shut the now empty dresser drawer. You want to look at Sam, but you don’t. Instead, you turn and head back to your suitcase.

“Oh,” Dean mumbles. You feel Sam watching you like he’s waiting for you to comment. “Right.” There’s an unspeakable quietness. A feeling you cannot explain. The room is suddenly too hot, too small. “Bend this for me.” Dean holds up a spoon, attempting to make a joke.

“I can’t turn it on and off, Dean,” Sam says. “It just happened.” He’s defensive and he has every right to be, Dean’s joke was insensitive. You sit down on the bed, feeling too heavy for your feet.

“Then how did you do it?” You ask your voice barely over a whisper. Sam looks down at you, his features are soft.

“I can’t control it. I saw you and Dean die and it just happened. Like a punch,” he explains. You fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “Like a freak adrenaline thing.”

You look up at Dean and you see the fear in his eyes but he throws the spoon down. “I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“Aren’t you guys worried?” Sam asks again. Like he wants you to be afraid for him. Like if you guys are afraid, he has a right to be, too. “You don’t think I could turn into Max or something?”

“Nope,” Dean says. “You know why? You got one advantage that Max doesn’t have,” Dean says.

“Dad? Because he’s not here, man.”

“Us,” Dean says, pointing to you. Sam looks down at you and then back up at Dean. Dean throws on his coat and zips his suitcase. “As long as we are around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.” He throws his bag over his shoulder and you stand up, getting your own stuff in order. “Now, then, I know what we need to do about your premonitions. Where we need to go next,” he says.

“Where?” You ask.

Dean puts on a fake smile. “Vegas,” he says and walks out of the cabin. Sam looks over at you and you hold your hand out for him.

“Don’t question it,” you mumble, although you were questioning it yourself. Sam just shakes his head and reluctantly laughs and you collect the rest of your things. “We got you, I promise,” you tell Sam as you’re about to head out of the cabin. He stops in the doorway, the fumes from the Impala’s engine hitting your nose. Sam doesn’t respond, instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and walks with you to the car.

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