Rewrite Of Supernatural Series: Season 1

Nightmare - Part 3.

'Fathers?' the blonde woman asked as soon as you busted through the front door without so much as knocking. 'Sister?'

'What are you doing here?' Max asked, his eyes brought to tears and you were sure if you had been a second late, you'd have come face to face with a late Mrs. Miller.

'Uh, sorry to interrupt,' you said the first thing that came to your mind.

'Max,' Sam approached with a charming fake smile. 'Could we, uh, could we talk to you outside just for a second?'

'About what?'

'It's . . . It's private,' you supplied. 'I wouldn't wanna bother your mother with it.'

'We won't be long at all, though, I promise.'

Dean and you nodded in agreement to Sam's words, drawing fake smiles over your lips to hide what your true motive.

'Okay.'

'Great,' you breathed out, moving towards the door.

Dean leaned towards the door, pulling it out and you realised a second too late that he was standing in front of the mirror. 'Shit!' you cursed, just when the door that Dean had opened a couple inches shut with a snap. Followed soon, the windows, all slamming shut in line as Max walked back steps, 'You're not priests!'

Feeling threatened, Dean pulled his gun out – the same thing that got you into this pickle – he was about to cock it when the metal flew out of his hands and into the freak kid's feet.

He grabbed it quick. Dean was about to go fight for the weapon when you pushed him behind yourself, Sam in succession (Or you rather just stood in front of them both because pushing these giants any which way in your human form would be about as miraculous as this kid being able to control stuff with the power of his brain, really).

'Max, what's happening?' the mother demanded.

'Shut up!' he commanded.

'What are you doing?' she persisted.

Max placed a hand on his head, as if fighting off a headache, and the woman of the house went flying into the kitchen counter in the next room with scream. She hit her head against the edge with a sickening crack and then fell in a heap on the floor. 'I said shut up!' Max bellowed, his forehead creasing as another wave of pain tore through him – he was clearly straining under his own powers.

'Max, calm down,' Sam jumped in.

'Who are you?!'

'We just wanna talk to you.'

'Yeah, right! That's why you brought this!' he yelled, refering to Dean's Glock.

'That was a mistake, alright? So was lying about who we were, but no more lying Max, okay? Just, please, just hear me out. I saw you do it,' Sam raised his hands. 'I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle, before it happened.'

'What?'

'I'm having visions, Max. About you.'

'You're crazy.'

'So you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?' Sam pointed to his right eye. 'Right here? Is it that hard to believe? Max look at what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, alright? I think I'm here to help you.'

He started sobbing, looking between you and his "mother". 'No one can help me,' he cried, his voice shaking.

'Let me try. We'll just talk. Me and you. We'll get Y/N, Dean and Alice outta here.'

'No,' you rejected.

'Uh-uh, no way,' Dean backed you up.

'No one leaves the house!' Max belted out.