Chapter Text
Leaning her head against the car window, the soft hum of the car’s engine reverberating in her head, as she watched the green of the trees blur past, the light of the setting sun casting orange hues through the gaps in the passing trees. Her eyes were heavy with sleep as she watched the world pass.
“Cass, you good back there?” Her head snapped up from the window, heart racing as she startled in her drowsy state.
“Yeah, Dean. I’m okay, just tired. Haven’t been able to sleep the last few days is all”, a soft chuckle coming from the driver, their green eyes connecting through the rearview mirror.
“Get some shut eye, kid. We’ll be at Bobby’s soon,” a short nod from the brunette was given in response as she settled back against the window. Cassandra’s eyes slowly fell shut as she gazed out the window, her body feeling heavy.
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Behind her eyelids, a dull light slowly began to build. Clouds began to form, hit with the soft light of a rising sun. Shouts rang out, sharp crashing sounds of metal on metal thundered above. Flashes of searing light shattering the peaceful illusion. A brief flash of a man's face appeared before the scene quickly changed. Fearful cries rang out.
“Father, you cannot do this to me! You cannot let Michael do this to me!”
A flash of lightning crackled across the sky, before the world pitched, the sky turning red. Everything seemed to be moving too fast, wings flashed before quickly appearing as a falling star. The star quickly picked up speed until it crashed into the Earth, leaving devastation in its wake. Trees falling quickly upon the rough impact, a crater left in the center. As the dust began to settle, the scene flashed to visions of Sam and Dean, covered in blood, fighting each other, one with glaring red eyes, and the other with blinding blue eyes. Shadows of large wings behind them as they fought. Piles of dead bodies, and flashes of the massive areas of destruction, buildings leveled, surrounding the fight between brothers.
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Cassandra shot up in her seat; a sputtering gasp caught in her throat. Her heart was pounding from what she had dreamed of.
“Woah! Cass, what the hell?” Cass’s mouth was dry, eyes searching for the soft voice full of concern. Her eyes met Sam’s. Tears slowly filling her eyes, as she shuddered away vivid flashes of what she had seen while sleeping.
“S- Sorry, Sammy. Bad dream,” she choked out. Quickly, she brought her pale hand to her eyes, wiping away the tears and residual sleep.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam’s eyes full of concern, his voice gentle, soothing even. Cassandra shook her head. She wanted to keep the flashes of horror to herself, not wanting to bother the younger man.
“Okay… If you want to talk about it later, we’re getting close to Bobby’s. We can talk about it there. I know you feel safer there.”
“No, it’s okay, Sammy. It was just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about, I promise,” her voice feigning a sense of confidence. Memories of her childhood home flashed through her mind, remembering the comfort her father provided her. “Where are we? I thought we were heading straight to Bobby’s?”
“We are. Dean needed to stop for gas, but we’re not too far,” Sam’s hazel eyes never leaving her.
A soft yawn escaped her pink lips.
“As much as I love this car, I swear it’s not comfortable to sleep in. How do you do it? You’re the size of a moose,” Sam looked at her, confused.
“You’re going to compare me to a moose? Really?”
“I swear I heard someone call you that before. I mean you’re a giant Sammy!” Peals of laughter tumbled out of Cassandra at Sam’s disgruntled expression upon being compared to a massive animal.
A quick tap on her window startled the girl, abruptly turning to see who tapped on the window.
“Dean, you ass!” A rough chuckle coming from the older blonde man.
“You’re the one not paying attention! Besides, what’s
so funny?” Dean asked the messy-haired brunette seated in the backseat of his Impala.
“Dean! She compared me to a moose! I’m not that big!” Cassandra starts to laugh openly, the sound causing the brothers to join in as Dean gets into the driver’s seat. “Really? A moose?” Her nose crinkled as she laughed, her shoulders shaking.
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Tires crunching upon the gravel road brought Cassandra back to reality, the midday sun beating overhead. The visions of what she had seen in her sleep slipped from her mind as the car pulled into her father’s scrap yard. Her body sank into a state of calmness at the thought of being home. Not that the Winchesters were aware of the actual relationship between Cassandra and Bobby. She thought back to when she had met the boys. It’d been almost 15 years since she had met them. The boys had been so small compared to their current states. Dean was forever acting as if he were her brother, bossing her around as they’d play around the Singer household. It had started with Dean assuming that Bobby was her uncle, and she’d never corrected the poor boy out of fear that he would be upset that her father was around more than John was. Now, the boys seemed to take to Bobby as if he were their father as well. Cassandra scrambled out of the Impala, leaving her backpack in the backseat as she bounded into the old house.
“Honey, I’m home!” She screamed upon opening the door. She heard a loud thud and assumed her father had fallen out of whatever chair he was in, likely having fallen asleep while waiting for them to arrive.
“Damn it kid! You gotta stop doing that to me!” He grumbled from the study. “Now come here and give your old man a hug!” his arms spread; Cassandra turned to her left, racing forward to hug her father, her ponytail swaying as she moved. Crashing into his arms, tightly wrapping her arms around him, her head resting over his shoulder as she stood on the toes of her beat-up Converse. The smell of beer and hard liquor coming from his clothing gave a sense of comfort. The stack of books on the desk accounted for the old book smell that lingered in the air and explained why her father's under eyes were swollen more than usual. Any remaining tensions faded from Cassandra’s body as she stood close to her father.
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Cassandra made her way through the narrow hallway of connecting the bottom floor of the house, wood floor creaking as she moved. Eyes trailing over the worn wallpaper her mother had put up before her death. The walls were bare except for two framed photos; one of the Singers and Winchesters having celebrated a birthday, and one of the Singers. To her left stood a staircase, the railing splintered over the years. Her body felt heavy as she made her way up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking in spots with her weight. From the top of the stairs, Cassandra made her way to her childhood bedroom; it was the smallest of the rooms, across the hall from her father’s room. Her hand grasped the silver doorknob, expecting that her room would be, for the most part, untouched from the way she had left it before she had gone off to college. The sage green walls had likely begun to fade over the last four years, with the multiple layers of plush rugs covering the devil's trap her father painstakingly painted under her bed as a child. Pushing open the door, she noticed that the paint had been redone recently, the lingering odor of paint potent even with the window in the farthest corner having been left open, the sheer curtains floating with the night breeze. Her bed had been made since she had left, the change in the bedding deeply appreciated.
The heavy oak dresser sat across from the door. Her gait easy as she wandered over to her dresser, she opened her bottom drawer for a set of pajamas. The many stolen shirts that Dean wasn’t missing if he hadn’t complained about them yet, filled her drawer. She let her brunette hair down from the ponytail that had progressively gotten messier throughout the drive from Minnesota to South Dakota. A soft sigh of relief spilled from her, as the tension from how tight the hair tie had been was released. Quickly, she changed out of her jeans and sweatshirt into a pair of loose black sweatpants and one of Dean’s stolen shirts. She made her way to her bed, kneeling alongside it. While she may not have been open with religion around her family, she never failed to make her offerings to whatever celestial entity she felt the need to pray to. The dream had startled her enough to feel as though there was something strongly foreboding about them. Her eyes closed softly as she mouthed her prayer quietly.
“Lord Apollo, I pray that you guide me in unraveling these dreams. I am not quite sure what they mean, but I feel that they were glimpses of what is to come in the passing months. I pray for the health and well-being of my family and loved ones, and that they make it home safe after every hunt. Blessed be.”
She waited a moment, unease settling deep in her bones, before moving to get into bed. The short amount of sleep she had gotten on the drive back home was not enough to satiate the feeling of how deeply tired she truly was. Flipping the comforter back, she slowly eased into her bed, the warmth soothing her.