Chapter 1: Meeting The Boys

I had been hunting for half of my life. There was so much I had seen, and so much I still had yet to see. I had hunted with other people, and I had hunted alone. Being a female Hunter made it difficult to hunt with others. They always thought I was too delicate. They didn't even know me.

I had been in so many different foster care homes since I could remember. There were so many stories that I had heard about what actually happened to my parents. Car crash. Plane crash. Fire. Mugging gone wrong. None of them made any sense. And then I met a strange man that told me my parents had been killed by monsters. He called himself a Hunter, but at the time I was too young to care or understand him.

The older I got, the more I started to think that maybe the strange man was actually telling me the truth. By the time I was 14, I finally sought out the strange man, Jackson, and began my training to become a Hunter. A year later he said I was finally ready to be called a Hunter. He was more of a father than I had ever had in my entire life. On my 15th birthday he gave me my own machete and gun. Those would be the two most important items I had ever received.

During that first year out hunting, I met lots of other Hunters. Few of them were women, but I didn't mind it. It was simple, fulfilling, and humbling. Normal people didn't notice or care what we did. Yet we were constantly protecting them from the things they thought only existed in books. I quickly learned that not following the rules earned me a red ass, so I focused on safety and communication in all situations.

As Jackson started to get slower in his old age, he hunted less and relied on me to keep the area safe. The only thing with that was when Hunters heard Jackson was retiring, they assumed there were no other Hunters in that area. But I was still there to try and keep things in hand, though I started to get more careless with my life since Jackson wasn't there to keep me in check. When things got quiet in town, I sought out other areas to keep myself distracted. As I started to get out on my own, I started hearing murmurs of two brothers: The Winchesters.

I became extremely fascinated by these brothers. Not only were there countless stories that were hard to believe as even a Hunter, but the dedication that they had to each other and the hunt made me very attracted to them. I had decided that one day I would meet them so I could prove for myself their greatness.

I spent three years trying to track their location through what other Hunters were saying. I tried not to stray too far from home since Jackson didn't seem to do well when I was gone for long periods of time. When I was about to give up, I finally found myself crossing their path. It was a simple hunt, and I had already been in the area tracking the vengeful spirit.

When they arrived, I immediately knew who they were. Their descriptions didn't do them justice. Dean had a hard look, but the pain and caring in his eyes was very clear. Sam had a look of motivation, but kindness. There was also some sadness that laced his facial expressions. The brothers clearly held a lot on their shoulders, and I felt bad for not making my presence known so they didn't have to worry about something so trivial as a vengeful spirit.

I contemplated lying about who I was, but I guess something about me gave it away. As they broke into the house quietly to investigate the spirit, I almost ran. Curiosity and their quickness to get the door open kept me there.

As the door opened, I saw a large figure coming up from a squat. He looked at me and spoke.

"Oh. We didn't realize anyone was here. We got a call about... " he stopped himself as he finished analyzing me and decided that he didn't need to continue the lie."My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean. We didn't realize this was already being taken care of."

I flushed, immediately feeling embarrassed. Should I tell them the truth? I had purposely pretended not to be on the case so I could meet them. Would they figure it out anyway? Maybe it was time to see how good they truly were. So I went with a lie.

"Melody," I said, reaching out my hand. "You can call me Mel if you'd prefer." I smiled as Sam grabbed my hand, and then I moved forward to Dean. As I took his hand he smiled, but his eyes stayed hard.

Since both boys had returned the smile, I decided to keep playing dumb, but not too dumb. I didn't live under a rock after all.

"So, the Winchesters, I presume?" I asked innocently.

Dean scoffed at that. "Yeah, but I'd only believe half of what they've told you about us." Then he shot me a wink.

I think I about died where I stood. Wasn't it against the law to have two beautiful, talented, kind siblings? I didn't think it was fair. There had to be something wrong with them. I just didn't see it yet.

Sam laughed gently at Dean and turned back to me. "So, Mel. I guess if you've got this, then we can just be on our way."

I responded a little too quickly, "NO!... I mean. You're already here, so I wouldn't mind the company."

Way to go, Mel. Make yourself look desperate. Sam was one of the few hunters to trust me enough to leave, and I had just asked...shouted at them to stay. That sure was going to do a lot for the "strong, independent woman" image I had been trying to build.

They both looked slightly taken aback by my reply. Sam suppressed a laugh, but Dean simply shrugged at Sam and closed the door behind them. "Sure. Why the hell not? Maybe it will end up being more action than we expected." He turned to me, "So, what's the plan?"

I could feel myself start to perspire. What in the hell was wrong with me? I finally got into a situation where I didn't have to fight to prove that I was capable, and I forgot how to speak. In that moment I was cursing the brothers for not being the egotistical assholes like most of the other Hunters I had met.

Finally, I cleared my throat and found my voice, "Well, as I'm sure you already know, it's a vengeful spirit. I already salted and burned the bones, but she's still here. So I came back to the house to see what she could be attached to. Just a heads up, she likes to try and push you down the stairs."

"Awesome," Dean replied as he glanced at the stairs then back to me.

I looked at him and frowned.

"It's just something he says," Sam said rolling his eyes at Dean. He turned his attention back to me. "Any clues about what she may be attached to still?"

"Well, there's a rumor that she made a doll with her own hair that was never found. She made it while she was pregnant with her child. And since the child was never born, I figure it has to be somewhere in the house. It's the only thing that makes sense. I've tried talking to her to ask where it is, but she just goes into a frenzy about getting the guy that killed her. She doesn't really listen when I explain he's been dead for a few years."

I sighed and crossed my arms while leaning against the wall. There was something that still felt off with all of it. Maybe the man really hadn't died. No. I had seen his death certificate. But there was definitely something. I just couldn't place my finger on what it was.

"Where haven't you searched for it?" Dean inquired, staring past me and intently up the stairs.

I halfway snapped out of my thoughts. I stared at Dean as I replied, but something held his attention on the stairs. I followed his sight line and sighed. The freaking ghost was standing there watching us.

"Inside of vents and ceiling panels. I've pretty much searched every other part of the house unless there's a secret doorway somewhere that I missed," I replied staring up the stairs.

"Melody, you brought me new friends to play with." The ghost spoke in an eerily calm voice. She seemed to be planning things while she spoke.

"Patricia, we've talked about this. You don't get to play with human lives. Either you move on by yourself, or I make you."

The ghost huffed and flew down the stairs getting right in my face. I felt both Sam and Dean come towards me protectively, so I held up a hand to stop them. I took a step towards her and she huffed before speaking.

"WE'VE ALSO TALKED ABOUT AVENGING THE DEATH OF MY CHILD!" she yelled in my face. She held her hands protectively over her empty belly and continued to glare at me.

I could feel her anger starting to bring an intense chill to my body, so I simply lifted my hand and brushed her away with the iron ball I had been holding in my palm. I knew she'd be back, but she was getting on my nerves, and she clearly wasn't in a mood to listen.

I sighed and turned back to the brothers who just looked at me a little dumbfounded.

"What? I'm just holding an iron ball. Don't you come prepared when dealing with vengeful spirits?"

Sam looked back at Dean and they exchanged a look I didn't quite understand. Dean turned to stare at me looking impressed, but he didn't speak. Sam cleared his throat and spoke with a smirk on his face.

"Have you checked in the stairs? Maybe there's storage in one of them?"

Shit. Why hadn't I thought of that? It was the place I'd seen her most frequently, but I'd just assumed it was because that was where her baby almost died inside while of her as she tumbled down the stairs. Patricia had broken her neck halfway down and died instantly, but her poor child didn't die until they failed to sustain her vitals in the hospital.

"Um...no," I mumbled like an embarrassed child. I looked down at my feet and cursed myself.

"I call vents upstairs," Dean announced half smiling while walking past Sam and me.

Sam smiled again and turned towards me, "Shall we test out the stairs?"

I watched Dean as he ascended the stairs, then turned to Sam, contemplating my answer. I was so fascinated by Dean. There was something about him that made me want to hold him down and make him tell me everything. But maybe I would learn more from Sam.

"Yes. Let's get to it."

As Sam and I started tapping the stairs to listen for a change in sound that might hint at a secret storage, Dean yelled something from one of the rooms. I looked up at Sam.

"Go ahead and see what he found. I'm gonna keep at the stairs."

"I'll be right back," Sam replied.

I tried to listen to what the boys were saying to each other while still tapping the stairs. Even if Dean had found the doll, something kept pushing me to search the stairs. As I tapped one of the stairs towards the top, I saw Sam trailing behind as Dean walked towards me holding the doll. They started to talk, but I held up my finger to silence them and tapped the step again. There was definitely something different in it's tone. I pulled at the boards until I found a loose one.

"We have the doll. What are you still looking for?" Dean asked with a frown.

"I'll let you know when I look under this floorboard," I sarcastically replied while looking up at him.

He was frowning at me. Then he raised his eyebrows as he showed me the doll in his hand. I laughed to myself a little and shook my head. How was it possible to be sarcastic without even saying anything? I took a deep breath and pulled open the floorboard.

I don't know what it was that I had been expecting, but old letters had not been it. As I reached in to grab them, Patricia appeared again, angrier than before. I stood up to face her, and she reached out to push me down the stairs. Dean tossed the doll back to Sam and simultaneously yanked me up to the landing where he was standing.

Thrown by the fact that his first priority was getting me out of her way, I forgot that I still had the iron balls in either pocket. I stood there holding Dean's forearms, staring at him like a complete fool. As Patricia screamed and came back up the stairs, Sam shot her with rock salt.

I quickly dropped my arms and stepped away. I hoped that he hadn't felt my pulse quicken at his touch. Maybe he'd think I was just frightened by the ghost if he did notice.

"Sorry. I mean, thank you." I blushed and quickly made my way back to the letters. I cleared my throat and brushed myself off as I squatted back down.

As I opened the first one I realized the correspondence was between Patricia and a lover. When I read the signature I realized that it was the name of her supposed killer. Had her lover, the possible father of her child, been wrongly accused of her murder?

I sat back on the stair, letting it support my back and dropped my hand with the letter to my side.

"I think she's right. I don't think her killer is dead." I stared down the stairs into nothing and felt a squeeze of pain in my heart.

Sam and Dean looked at the doll Sam was still holding. Then they looked back to me.

Sam spoke first, "Maybe we can get her to tell us more about the killer before we burn the doll."

"Yeah. I'd rather not let some murdering son of a bitch keep wandering around the streets killing people," Dean spat in response.

I looked towards them as I nodded and went back to searching the stairs. There was a picture of Patricia and Wesley embracing. He definitely didn't look like a killer. I stuck my hand further back into the stairs and found an unsent letter for Wesley. I felt a chill behind me.

"Melody..." Dean said cautiously. Dean tensed and reached for his gun, but nobody moved.

I turned to Patricia and saw her eyes fill with tears and she simply nodded at me.

"Open the letter. Find the man who killed my child. FIND HIM!"

She started to lose control again, so I sighed and swung my iron ball.

"We will, Patricia. I promise."

I spoke to the air where she had been and turned my focus back to the letter in my hand. I carefully opened it and read it. Patricia wrote to Wesley about how she was frightened. A man had been coming around demanding that she was to be his wife. She recognized him from around town and had spoken to him once or twice in the market. Apparently he had become obsessed and believed himself to be the father of her child. As Patricia wrote on, she mentioned that the man was in the house and she was going to try to escape for help.

She told Wesley that she loved him more than life itself, and that if anything were to happen to her, he needed to find Bradley Stoke. My heart caught in my throat, and my eyes burned with a hint of tears.

"Patricia wasn't murdered by Wesley. He came home and found her that way. Bradley Stoke is her murderer. I guess Wesley took his own life in prison to be with her, not because of the guilt of killing her and his child."

Sam and Dean gave each other that stupid look again. It made me want to scream. I felt like I was being left out of the cool kid conversation. I started feeling defensive again because it felt like maybe they didn't trust me.

"Uh, Melody. We actually know where he is. He was acting suspiciously outside our hotel. The owner explained he'd gone mad one day when his wife supposedly drowned herself and their baby in the bathtub. I'll take the letter to the local police and take care of him. You and Sammy help Patricia cross on. She needs to be with her family."

I nodded and handed Dean the letter with a clenched jaw. I wiped an escaped tear from my cheek and let Sam assist me to standing. I wanted to pull away and yell at them to let me do it myself, but I was too busy analyzing how quickly they had solved the case. Sam and I went to the fireplace and he threw the doll in. I went to my bag and grabbed the salt while Sam pulled out a match.

Patricia appeared again screaming about the doll she made for her baby. She came at me and threw me against the wall right as Sam threw the match. I watched Patricia fade away as the doll went up in flames.