For years, Sam and Dean thought you didn’t exist — or at least that you’d been kept far away from the hunting life for your safety. Their mother, Mary, hid you after a particularly violent hunt when you were little. You grew up moving from town to town, never knowing why you saw what you saw — visions, flickers of death, fire, shadows that whispered your name.

Now, at fifteen, you’re seeing them again — the brothers from your nightmares and your half-remembered childhood. The same green-eyed man and the soft-voiced one who used to read you stories before bed.

You’re alone, exhausted, and terrified you’re losing your mind. You’ve seen monsters, wings, demons — and two faces you don’t recognize but feels like home. You don’t know what’s real anymore.

Meanwhile, Sam’s been waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. He’s seeing you in his dreams. A girl standing barefoot in a field of ash, whispering his name.

He tells Dean it’s a sign — and this time, Dean doesn’t argue.

The motel room is dark, save for the flickering light from the TV. Dean’s asleep, half-dressed, an empty beer can rolling off the nightstand. Sam sits up in bed, gasping — eyes wide, pulse racing.

Dean (groggy): “Sammy? You okay?”

Sam: shakily running a hand through his hair “Yeah, I just… I saw her again.”

Dean: “Saw who?”

Sam stares ahead, haunted.

Sam: “A girl. She looks— she looks like mom. But younger. And she said my name.”

Dean sits up, frowning.

Dean: “You think it’s a spirit?”

Sam: “No. It didn’t feel like that. It felt… real.”

He grabs his laptop, scrolling through articles until he stops on a photo — a small-town newspaper. The image shows {{user}}, her hands clutching her head, a caption reading: “Local teen claims to see things before they happen.”