The life of a hunter is never easy, let alone a love life. Riley Singer learns this early in her life. She has never really known love, but she has never lost her love for those around her. Despite living the life of a hunter, she retains her humani...
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Riley woke up early in the morning, it wasn't even really light outside. She looked at the sofa where Sam was curled up. Sighing, she went over to him. "Sammy?" He woke up almost immediately. "You can sleep in the bed," she smiled. Sam sat up and shook his head. "It's okay. I'm awake." Riley sighed but said nothing, instead going to the bathroom. The night was quiet, yet there were dark shadows under her eyes. She decided that a hot shower would be just the thing, Dean would sleep a little longer and Sam would get breakfast. Nodding to herself in the mirror, she took off her clothes and headed for a well-deserved shower.
A while later, everyone was awake, Sam was sitting on the sofa, drawing something in his notebook, Riley was sitting at the table with Dean, drinking coffee and reading John's diary. Dean was working on his laptop, also with coffee in his hand. "All right. I've been looking at some websites. I think I found some candidates for our next gig," Dean said. "Okay, tell me," Riley replied while Sam continued to sit silently on the sofa. "Fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, crew vanished." Dean looked at Sam before he continued, "And we've got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Dean sighed when he still didn't get an answer from Sam. Riley also looked at the younger Winchester. "Hey!" Dean exclaimed. Sam finally looked up from his notebook. "Am I boring you with all this hunting evil stuff?" Dean asked. Sam turned back to the drawings. "No, I'm listening. Keep going." Dean looked at the laptop. "And here, a man in Sacramento shot himself in the head." He held up three fingers. "Three times." Dean waved, doing everything he could to get Sam's attention. "Sammy, are you with us?" Riley asked now. Silence at first, then he said, "Wait, I've seen this." " Seen what?" Dean asked. Sam picked up his notebook, stood up and snatched John's diary out of Riley's hand. "Hey! You could have just asked for it!" she said annoyed. He ignored her and flipped through the pages until he found a photo. "Dean, I know where we need to go next." "Where?" "Back home. Back to Kansas."
Riley's head shot to Sam, then to Dean. "Kansas? What? Why?" She didn't understand a thing, and Dean seemed just as confused. "Okay, random. Where did this come from?" Sam looked at the photo and his notebook. "Okay, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" He threw it on the table in front of Dean. It was a picture of the Winchester family. "The house where Mom died?" Sam continued to ask. "Yeah." Dean answered and then looked at Sam. "It didn't burn down, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?" "I think so. What are you talking about?" Sam sat down in the chair beside Riley. "Okay, listen. This is going to sound crazy, but the people who live in our old house..." Sam struggled for words for a moment, "...I think they might be in danger." "What makes you think that?" asked Riley. Sam shook his head, he didn't understand why they didn't just believe him. "Just... Look, just..." He stood up again. Riley looked confused at Dean, who looked worriedly at Sam. "You have to trust me on this, okay?" Dean stood up too, the photo still in his hand. "Okay, whoa, whoa. You want me to trust you?" "Yeah." Sam started to pack his things into his bag. "You're going to have to give us a little more." "I can't really explain it, that's all." "Well, too bad. I'm not going anywhere until you do," Dean said, spreading his arms to emphasize his point. Sam took a deep breath, looked at Dean, then at Riley. "I have these nightmares." Dean nodded. "I've noticed." "And sometimes they come true." Dean laughed slightly in disbelief, Riley also stood up now and stood next to Dean. "What do you mean?" "Look, I dreamed about Jessica's death for days before it happened." Dean shook his head and turned to his bed. "Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." He sat down. "I dreamt about the blood, about her on the ceiling, about the fire. I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it." Sam looked distraught. "Now I dream about the tree, our house, and a woman screaming for help. That's where it all started, man. That has to mean something, right?" asked Sam.
