There’s a case in your hometown, but when you arrive nothing looks the same.

Pairing: None

Warnings: Angst, sense of lost time, childhood stolen angst, plot without point, fluffy ending (oops)

Word Count: 1965

Note: I wrote this around my visit to my former hometown this weekend, but I’ve tried to leave it vague and open for other towns. Happy (or un-happy) SPN Angst Day!

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and stretched. Sam and Dean were in the front of Baby talking low about the case.

The case. The one in your childhood hometown.

You shot up, looking out the windows for anything familiar.

“We’re still a few miles from the state line,” Dean piped up. “You haven’t missed it.

“Ah, but have we passed the peach butt yet?” You giggled as the both looked back at you; Dean through the mirror and Sam turning sharply in his seat. “I guess not.”

“The what?” Sam asked.

“The Peach Butt. I think it’s a water tower, or used to be, but its painted like a giant peach. Even has a leaf and the little nob at the bottom. The area is known for their fruit. And fireworks. But mostly the giant peach. It’ll mean I’m almost home.”

The peach crested over the hill a little while later. Both of the boys were amused at the water tower and you taking pictures with your phone. Almost fifteen years had passed since you last saw it, when your family moved south, and it still looked just as freshly painted and bright as ever. Then the highway dipped, and the peach disappeared from sight. Within another twenty minutes, the exits for your childhood county zoomed into view.

But as Dean pulled up the ramp, everything went wrong.

There was the Waffle House, and the hotel, and the Cracker Barrel. Gone was the family-run Italian restaurant that had the best cannoli’s in the world and the little pet shop where you got your first fish. There were over twenty new business squeezed into a strip mall over what used to be the park.

“Where do I turn?” Dean asked, breaking through the rising panic in your chest.

“There should be a ‘Scott Road’ on your left. That will take you through a small town before we get to ‘Hickory Grove Road’ and the straight shot to the case.”

Sam pointed the sign out to Dean. Memories stuttered in your mind as the trees that used to grow there were replaced by a budding neighborhood, many still under construction. After a few minutes, Dean slowed Baby to a stop. The road came to a dead end with a bright orange construction sign. You stayed silent as Sam typed the address into his GPS and shared it with Dean as he turned Baby around.

Your heart throbbed in your chest. Heavy, chest-rattling thumps that felt like they were pushing molasses through your veins. Air shuddered out of your lungs in short bursts and long silent sighs. Sam kept glancing back at you. Instead of looking back at him, you watched the town roll by your window different in almost every way. Just when you thought you were completely lost, a landmark would roll by and you knew where you were.

When had everything changed?

The landmarks became more frequent as Dean drove further out of the town and into the country. Out there, you saw more boarded up windows and crumbling buildings than replacements. Then things got really familiar.

“Dean, stop the car.”

“What?”

“Stop the car. Let me drive.”

You slid into the front seat next to him at the next red light. It was cramped with all three of you shoulder to shoulder but you weren’t focused on that at the moment.

At the salon go straight. Pass the soccer field. Pass the rusted sculptures. Follow the curve to the church. Turn left on the gravel road.

“Where is it?” you mumbled under your breath. Baby jumped and tilted over the gravel. Dean growled as pebbles bounced off the doors. With a curse, you made a sudden U-turn in some random driveway that wasn’t there before. “Where is it!” you shouted, slapping your hand against the wheel.

“Where’s what?” Sam looked at his phone and the road. “There’s nothing back here.”

“That’s the problem,” you muttered. Dean cursed as you slammed on the breaks. Then you were off like a shot.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dean moved Baby to one side of the road, then followed you with Sam to the open field. When they caught up you were sitting in a tree looking over the expanse of green. “What are you doing? What were you looking for?” Dean demanded.

“My house.” Your voice was soft but hoarse. “It was right here. I used to climb this tree all the time. Nearly broke my arm dozens of times.” You shifted against the bark. The swell in the limbs where you now sat was smaller than you remembered. The whole thing felt lower to the ground. “Why is my tree here but not my house?” The question hung in the air unanswered.

Sam checked his watch and nudged Dean, who nodded back.

“Y/N, we have to get to the crime scene. We’ll come back. I promise.”

You nodded. But you didn’t move. Not until the green of the field was replaced with the green of Dean’s eyes. You never thought how similar they would be.

“Sweetheart, we have to go.” He took you hand and gently tugged on it till you hoped off the tree.

You were silent as Dean pulled up to another new neighborhood. The show house was surrounded in police tape still, and a news crew stood out front.

“I thought everything happened… three days ago?” Sam asked.

“I did too.” Dean straightened his tie and led the march over. He was the first to duck under the tape after you all showed your fake badges. Sam broke off to find the commanding officer, and Dean wandered over to listen to the news crew. That left you standing alone. You usually went to check out the scene first, but your feet wouldn’t move.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. “Y/N Y/L/N?” You turned around and saw an aged version of a familiar face.

“Mz. Cindi?” You couldn’t help but let a smile break out over your face. She used to baby-sit you when your parents wanted a night out. You ducked back under the tape to give her a hug.

“Oh sweetie, it’s so good to see you! Let me look at you.” She held you at arm length but still had to tilt up her head to look at you. You were taller than her in sixth grade. “A FBI agent. I’m so proud of you. Obviously, this terrible business brings you to town, but I’m sure you’ve heard enough of that already. How’s the family?”

“Oh, uh. My parents are…” Murdered. “…they died.” Vampires. “Car accident. I was away at college.” I was home. The vamps kidnapped me and bled me for days. “Other than that, I’ve been all right.”

“My poor child.” She wrapped her short arms around your waist, then jumped back with a start. “Oh goodness. Did you drive by…”

“My house, or lack of? Yeah. What happened?”

“The family living there didn’t keep it as well as your parents. It became mold infested; poisoned the people living there. The mailman saw their bodies through the window. Just terrible. It had to come down, so the city had the volunteer fire department burn it down for practice. That was seven years ago. But most of the trees are still there.”

Seven years. Odd.

“Now this house was infested with hornets. The town seems intent on dying before the corporations can get out here. Oh, who’s your tall drink of water?”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Dean walking over. “Dean? He’s my partner. Well, one of them. The other one is talking to the chief.”

“Ah,” she whispered knowingly, “but which one is yours?” You rolled your eyes as she giggled.

“Dean, this is Mz. Cindi. She used to watch after me.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Hate to steal Y/N away from you, but we need her inside.” He walked away after you nodded.

Mz. Cindi gave your hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about the change dear. It’s the way of the world. And there’s always a little pain when you go back home and it doesn’t look the same as before. But after you and your boys solve this, don’t wait another fifteen years to show up. There are still good people around, and we miss you. You’ll have to tell us about the world some time since you’re one of the few that made it out.”

“I’ll do that. Is your number the same?”

“Hasn’t changed in over thirty years. I’ll talk to you later, sweetie.” She gave you one last hug, then let you walk back to the house.

Dean started filling you in on the case. The surviving son came back and got hit by a second wave of hornets. But his voice sounded far away.

Change is the way of the world.

“Y/N!” Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

You passed on the information about your old house after Sam joined you two inside. The timing was too perfect a number. Sam did research, and Dean cleaned his guns. You walked out to the train tracks and reminded walking the rails with your friends after school. And wondered whether any of them had moved out too. There was still a lump in your throat when Dean called you with the plan. You swallowed it and got to work. Bones to salt and burn. Ghost of the town legend to put to rest. It should have felt good, saving everyone. It should have felt like the world started turning again.

Instead, it felt like it was heavier on your shoulders.

No other families would be hurt. No more children would wake up one morning and find their family dead. Not like you had. But it didn’t feel like enough. All the lives you saved couldn’t get back the memories corrupted by the last few days. They couldn’t fix how lost you felt in a town that you used to know so well. You were almost welcomed leaving at this point.

“Do you want to get out and take pictures?” Dean broke through your brooding. He hissed as gravel bounced of the car again as he pulled to a stop in front of the field.

“Not really. Let’s just go home.” You turned your head to face inside the car.

Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N, hate to be that guy, but you know you’ll regret it. Come on.” His door creaked and his shoes made the gravel crunch. Your side of the car was shadowed before he opened your door. “Come on. I’ll take the pictures if you won’t.”

You snorted with a grin. “No, you’ll take them wrong.” Sam stepped out of the way and you stepped out. You took a deep breath before taking that last step between gravel and grass. If you’d left the shutter sound on, your phone would have driven Dean crazy. The dozens of pictures were silent instead.

Sam’s hand enveloped yours. “Go sit where you were yesterday.” He crouched a little and took your picture as you sat in your spot. “Dean, go away!” he grumbled. Dean shot back a determined “no” and placed his warm hands on your shoulders before tickling your neck. He laughed openly as you squealed.

“Come over here, moose-man. And bring your selfie-stick arms.” You giggled as Sam shot you a disgruntled look, but he posed and smiled all the same.

“I bet I can race you to the top of this tree,” Dean said several pictures later.

“Honey, you couldn’t make it half-way.” You gave him a shove that sent him sprawling into the grass, then climbed as fast as you could before Dean could catch up to you.

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