I - Pilot

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[22 YEARS AGO - LAWRENCE, KANSAS]
[POV: Second Person - You]

"John, you need to calm down before you scare the kids," your father's voice scolded John Winchester, the man who lived across the street. You and Dean had your ears pressed against the door, trying to listen to the conversation the grown ups were having in your dad's room. Neither of you understood what your fathers were talking about, but Dean thought he'd find something out about his mom. 

"They're in the living room," John snapped back. You and Dean exchanged nervous looks. "They can't hear us." 

"Still," your father argued, "you're getting extremely worked up."

"Are you kidding me right now? My wife blew up into flames on the ceiling! The ceiling! And you want me to calm down?" John shouted at your father. No one said anything for a moment, the atmosphere tense. You reached out and grabbed Dean's hand. "I need to find what killed her," John said quietly, "and I can't do it without your help."

"No," your father stated. "It's too dangerous--and, and the kids! What are you going to do about the kids? Sam is only six months old, for god's sake!" You looked over your shoulder to check on the baby that sleeps in your old rocker. You released a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you reassure yourself that Sammy is fine.

"We can find someone to watch the kids!" John retorted. "Please, Matthew. You're the only one I know who can help."

Matthew sighed. Again, there's a long pause before anyone speaks up. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. But, John, you have to realize that once you join this lifestyle it's hard to escape." Your father hesitated before adding on softly, "Take our wives, for instance."

"Thank you," John says. "Thank you, Matthew."

[TEN YEARS LATER - LAWRENCE, KANSAS]

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" you sobbed over and over again as you punched in the number you memorized in case something like this happened. You stumbled a few times as you ran away from your house, terrified of the event you watched unfolded. The memory kept replaying itself over and over again. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. SHIT!"

The line rings two times before a gruff voice answers, "Y/n? What happened? Where are you?" 

You tried to catch your breath to calm yourself but the words spewed out of your mouth like throw up, "He's dead! He's dead, John! Oh my god, he's dead!" 

"Where are you? Are you still at home?" John asked in a calm tone. 

You shook your head even though he couldn't see you and took more deep breaths. "No, no I ran away. I'm still running. John, I think it's still there--you need to come and get me!" you cried into the phone. 

"We're just a few hours out of town. Go to Missouri, she'll keep you safe until I'm there to pick you up, got it?" John ordered, shifting gears into military mode. 

You nodded your head and ran down the road to take you to Missouri's. "Please hurry," you pleaded before hanging up to focus on getting yourself from point A to point B. 

[PRESENT DAY - HAILEY, IDAHO]

You pour yourself a cup of coffee from your keurig and let out a yawn. 

Another night, another nightmare, you think bitterly to yourself and stupidly take a sip of your burning coffee. "Shit!" You cover your burnt tongue and lip with your finger, and frown at how horrible your morning has started. 

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