I really wanted to see something like this in the Jumanji fanfiction, but when I looked, there was barely anything, and there was nothing like this. So it just sort of made itself on my head...and now it's here. I like the idea of Judy and Peter remembering, but I was like, well how would that work? So I figured it would be something like this, as it makes the most sense to me.

Judy didn't know when It had started. It was something that was always there, though not always prominent. She knew it baffled her parents- it baffled her too. It wasn't even a sense of Déjà vu, because it wasn't that she thought she had been somewhere or done something before, it was that she knew.

It could also be hard to distinguish from the "real" world. Sometimes her knowledge turned out to be only nearly true, or close to true. A few times, it hadn't been true at all. She always knew that it had happened. Always. She was certain that it had happened, even if she didn't know how. Her parents only started worrying when they really started to notice the things that couldn't be explained away by having an observant child.

"Why don't you ever play with Uncle George?" Her mother asked her when she was three.

"'Cause when he and Aunt Nora get divorced, he won't be around no more. I don't wanna miss him." Though her mother tried to assure her that her sister was not getting divorced, and asking where she had even heard the word, Judy just shrugged and said "I don't know. I just know it's right." Martha couldn't help but fret at the thought throughout the whole visit, analyzing her sister and brother in law, not seeing any reason for them to split up or anything that would lead to that conclusion.

Martha forgot about it, or so she told herself, but over the next couple of months Judy said more strange things. Things like "I wanna spend as much time with Nana before her accident as I can," or "Even though Jamie and I are friends, he's going to move next year, so I'mma make more friends."

Martha was downright disturbed to be told five months later by her sister that she had filed for divorce. She didn't even want to think about what it would mean for her mother.

"It isn't normal Jim." She said once when she thought Judy was asleep. "She shouldn't be saying things like that. She shouldn't know things like that!"

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Jim soothed. "She probably just overheard an argument or something. We'll just keep an eye on her for now." Judy didn't think there was anything wrong with her. In fact, she was certain that she was the one who was right. She slipped off and into her own bedroom and tucked herself back into the sheets covered in kittens (she'd never asked for one because she knew that they would say no. She couldn't remember why, but she thought it was because mom would get sick). She realized that maybe it was better if she said nothing at all about what she knew.

Judy did try, though it was difficult for her to always be able to tell when she knew something or didn't. She was nearly five when she knew her mother was pregnant. Her parents sat her down before dinner and asked her what she thought about having a little brother or sister.

"I already know I'm going to get a little brother, so it doesn't matter." Judy said. "Besides, you already told me you were going to have a baby. I'm hungry, can we eat now."

"What do you mean we already told you?" Jim asked.

"You did! You told me a while ago. That's why mommy has been sick in the mornings." Judy was beginning to realize that she must have been thinking of it again. She sighed. "So there's going to be a baby, can we eat now?"

Her parents relented, though she could tell that they were both worried about her. It wasn't the only time that her parents found her reacting to it when she couldn't distinguish from reality. Her parents took her to the zoo only a few months before and she had been fine up until they got to the monkey house. Someone had thought it would be fun to provoke the monkeys, and soon they were swinging around and screeching and Judy clapped her hands over her ears, turned right around, and ran out the doors crying all the way. She fell down just outside the entrance, hysterical, screaming. It took her parents a minute to figure out what she was screaming, once they caught up to her.

"They're coming to get us, they're coming to get us! The monkeys are coming to get us!" She had been so hysterical that her parents had had to take her to the nurse's booth and have her sedated. She had woken up fine, though with the tantalizing memory of destructive monkeys destroying a pretty kitchen haunting her nightmares for the two weeks after that. Judy knew she was alright, she was safe. Sometimes it was hard to remember, but she did. Besides, nothing dangerous could happen yet.

It was waiting for Peter.

Peter was born prematurely. She knew his birthday (July 13) and so she knew when her mother said he wasn't due until August that something would happen. For days before her little brother was born, she forced her mother to take better care of herself, even eating her most hated vegetables so that her mother would eat the good stuff. She refused to leave the house on her brother's birthday, spending all her time around her mother. It was Judy who called 911 when her mother went into labor.

Her brother was born six hours later, just before midnight. When her parents named him Peter, she just smiled. Judy knew that he would be annoying and loud sometimes. She had already stolen her dad's earplugs so that she would be able to sleep through the night once the baby came home. Judy was pleased when peter came home. It was telling her she wouldn't be alone anymore.

It was not wrong. Peter was exactly what Judy was expecting for a younger brother. She didn't expect from him anything she knew he wouldn't give, beyond the normal sister brother stuff. Her parents were happy that she helped take care of him, despite the age difference, and quickly learned that Peter was very comfortable with his older sister. Judy knew that even though he was small, he recognized it too. She didn't question it.

When Peter had grown up enough to really understand the difference between what was real and what was it, Judy started to talk to him about which was which. Real: their Nana was alive. It: she was going to trip and fall one day and need surgery on her hip. Real: their parents were alive. It: Before either was an adult, they wouldn't be. Peter was not a fast learner, but he managed well enough.

There was a problem though. Something was wrong.

"It's waiting for something, right?" Peter asked his sister. Judy sighed as she stared at her feet. They were laying in the living room, watching the rain. They were waiting for her parents to come home from shopping. They had decided that at ten, Judy could watch her brother for an hour while her parents were out.

"I don't know. Maybe we just have to find them." Judy said.

"Do you think we'll ever find them?" Peter asked.

"Yes." Judy didn't doubt it for a second. As they had gotten older, the dreams had started. They felt like memories of lives long past. They were often horrible nightmarish events that made them wake sweating, turning on the lights and crawling into their parents' bed or in bed next to each other, praying the comfort of another person would chase away the itchy knowledge. Sometimes they weren't horrible, and those times usually revolved around two people- adults- that they didn't know. They felt important, and both Judy and Peter felt that they could and should trust those two no matter what.

"Judy?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Do you think that it is real?" for a long time, Judy didn't say anything. Peter just watched his sister from the corner of his eye. Finally, Judy answered.

"It has to be."

Something that neither Judy nor Peter saw coming, through any means, was their father's job offer at Parish shoes. Parish shoes were the only shoes that Judy and Peter would wear: they didn't know why, but they knew for some reason that they wanted it that way. They weren't even certain it was related to it. They just loved the shoes anyway.

When the invitation to the Christmas party was extended to Judy and Peter, they both excitedly told their parents that they wanted to come, no matter how many dinner parties they had refused to attend before, they wanted to go to this one. Judy was certain that her parents put it down to their love of the shoes.

Both Judy and Peter hummed in anticipation the night of the party. Both were anxious, repeatedly redressing and redoing their hair until they thought they looked good. They were ready to go long before their parents, waiting in the hall and not talking, exchanging looks that spoke volumes more than they would be willing to risk their parents hearing.

Sarah and Alan Parish were exactly as Peter and Judy had expected, never mind that they hadn't been expecting anything at all. They saw the light of recognition in the eyes of both, and when they received their gifts, they knew these were the people they had been waiting for. When the Parish's said that their father couldn't take the vacation that he had been insisting on, despite the protests of his children, they both sighed with relief. Finally, their parents were safe.

Later on in the party, Judy managed to catch Sarah alone.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Sarah smiled warmly.

"Oh you're welcome."

"Did you mean it when you said we could come back?" Judy blurted out, needing to know, wanting to be around these people who were so like them.

"Of course." She laid a hand on Judy's shoulder. "You can come over whenever you want. Our home is your home." Judy hugged Sarah right then and there.

They did come back. It was something that both felt necessary, which caused something inside of them began to settle. Alan and Sarah were great fun to be around, and they were happy to be expecting their first child. Judy told Sarah all about what she remembered from Peter being born. Often, Judy and Sarah had lunch together and talked about simple things that were fun for both. Alan and Peter would often play games in the yard, coming in to help cook dinner at times, which became a family affair. The Shepherd parent were glad for the kindness of the Parrish's, and so were happy to bring their children by often. They couldn't help but notice how much their children liked being around them.

There was only one thing wrong. Judy and Peter were hesitant to discuss it with the Parrish's. They weren't sure how Sarah and Alan would react, despite the fact that they were certain that they would understand. After a while though, it became obvious that something was different. That they knew things they shouldn't. Like how Sarah had seen a psychologist during it.

"So do you still see a psychologist?" Peter had asked one day a few months later while the four ate dinner.

"Peter! Don't be so rude!" Judy scolded her little brother, who looked appropriately apologetic.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking down at his plate to avoid his sister's glare. Neither noticed the look exchanged between Sarah and Alan.

"It's alright Peter." Sarah said slowly. "But I have never seen a psychologist in this lifetime. What made you think I had?" At this, both Judy and Peter started messing with their food with their forks and refusing to meet the eyes of the Parrish's.

"Nothing. I don't know. It doesn't matter." Peter said haltingly. He looked up towards Judy, hoping for some help, but she was still refusing to look away from the meat on her plate which she had already stabbed her fork into.

"He's just being silly." Judy said, not really looking at anyone, but rather, around them all. "Don't worry about it. He just has a weird imagination."

"If that's true," Alan got out of his chair and crouched down next to where Judy sat. Reluctantly, she looked into his eyes, and he could see the apprehension in her expression. The touch of fear that seemed to be holding her back. "Then why do the two of you seem so worried?" Judy wrenched her eyes from his then, slumping a bit in her chair. She looked over at her brother, who was looking at her from over the shoulder of Sarah, who despite the fact that she was nearly at her due date had still decided to kneel beside Peter.

Judy took a shuddering breath and returned her gaze to Alan's. He showed nothing but compassion and- dare she say it?- love in his eyes. "Promise you'll believe us?" She asked.

"Absolutely." Alan answered. Judy nodded, but she didn't really look like she was going to speak.

"How about we all head over to the living room? We'll be more comfortable." Sarah said quietly. Judy and Peter nodded, leaving their plates behind as they got up. Alan helped Sarah get back to her feet, and they settled into the comfortable couch, Judy and Peter sitting beside each other, looking nervous. Slowly, they began to explain all about It. How It had always been there, all their lives. How they sometimes knew things that they shouldn't, reacted in ways that didn't make sense. Sarah and Alan stayed silent throughout the entire explanation, never asking for them to clarify anything. When they were done, Judy and Peter found themselves enveloped in a hug from both sides, despite the fact that Sarah could barely reach Peter because of her stomach.

"Oh we should have known something like this would have happened. I'm so sorry you two weren't able to get away from what happened." Sarah sighed, and both Judy and Peter found themselves feeling immensely relieved. Sarah and Alan weren't angry with them. They understood. It was then that Alan began to explain what had happened. He explained all about Jumanji, and about how they were remembering.

Finally, things clicked into place for the Shepherd kids. Finally, things made sense.

After all this time, they could understand what they went through.

Finally, they were free from the fear and confusion.

The Shepherd kids were finally at peace with themselves.