Chapter Twenty-Seven: Home

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It was a double story white house, a crooked for sale sign in the dead grass of the front lawn. There weren't any curtains in the dust covered windows.

"Dean." Sam said turning to her. Dean was already out of the car, she opened my door.

"Come on Rachel." She said motioning for me to follow her. Sam, Cas, and Cassidy followed us out and up the sidewalk. Dean pulled out a key from her pocket. Stepping onto the porch, she slipped it into the front door. Her hand hesitating slightly before turning the handle.

"This is where is started." She said looking at me. My eyes widened slightly.

"Where..."

"Yeah," she pushed open the door. We all followed Dean into the house and I could feel the energy change.

Never had I seen someone look so lost in their own home before. She ran her hand along the railing. Sam moved around the the hallway into the front room, her face conflicted with memories and emotions.

"This is weird on so many levels," Sam said as she looked back at me."We haven't been here since that first year back in game."

"God, that was a long time ago..." Dean said, looking up the stair case. I stood slightly uncomfortable in the hallway. "It's okay, go look around." She said turning to me, "Nothings here anymore." She moved back into the kitchen and around the lower level. I motioned for Cass to follow me upstairs. We climbed the narrow flight of steps and turned to the left, entering the first room. It was painted cream and tan, a closet on the left wall a big window directly to the front of us.

Cassidy looked around us, going to the window she looked out. "I think something happened in here."

"Yeah?" She nodded.

"Its just a feeling."

"This was my room." Sam's voice came from behind us. "It's where Mom died." She ran a hand through her hair. I looked at Sam, my heart heavy with empathy.

"I wonder why Jenny moved." Dean commented coming up beside her, "Not that I would blame her but it makes me wonder."

"Yeah, it would be good to see her."

"Where was your room Dean?" I asked turning to my dad. She motioned for me to follow. Leading us down the hall we entered a powder blue room.

"When I was sick, Mom, she...she used to make me tomato rice soup. Her mom used to make it for her..." Her eyes shined. Dean put a hand on the fading paint. There was a pain in my heart, for all of us. Our world was one of many losses and I wished, for just a moment, I could forget that....but I knew what that life was like. It wasn't what I wanted. I just wanted family...and that's what I had.

It is all I had.

"Come on, it's time to head back." Dean stated, moving quickly to the door. Her breath hitched just slightly, but there was no need to take note of it. We all seemed to be holding our breath.

When we got back outside, locking the door behind us, I took a final glance, up towards that bedroom window. Maybe it was the shadow of the tree, or my eyes playing tricks on me, but I could swear that I saw someone standing there. Silhouetted in the window. Watching. I blinked, but it was gone when I reopened my eyes.

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Sunday afternoon rolled around, bringing nothing but heat and humidity to Lawrence. Let me get one thing straight. I hate humidity, it sucks. Everything is sticky and irritating and there was no way to escape it, at least not an effective one that I've found.

Laying on the floor of our room, beside the shadow of the bed, I was attempting to finish my math homework, which Crowley was being merciless about! I swear, every time Ava opened her mouth, we got 5 more problems to do. Whatever point they were trying to prove to each other, it needed to stop. Seriously, my brain can only handle the Pythagorean theorem for so long. It wasn't hard, it was simply boring.

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