I know I said that I was going to share this story sooner, but I was a little stuck at some points of it. This is going to be a shorter one, as it's the story between the last story and my next one in the Dean/Mel 'verse. There are at least two POVs in each chapter-usually Dean's and Mel's but sometimes I'll throw in other POVs. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

One month after Mel's death...

One month. It had been one month.

He couldn't believe a month had passed so long since Mel's death. One month since she went to Hell. That was a decade in Hell's terms, at least if Castiel was right. Had she held on and not given in?

He didn't really know what was best? Mel holding on and not giving into torturing innocent people or still being on that rack being tortured day in and day out. Whichever one it was, it wasn't good and that was what kept him focused on finding a way to save her.

Hen had given up on Holly now. Well, not quite given up, but he'd moved into the next stage of grief. Holly was gone and he and Haley had to move on. Haley, Paige and Henry were focusing on moving forward, while Hen focused on his daughters. They were now growing up without a mother thanks to Lilith. Without a mother and aunt.

Many of the others had moved onto the next stage of grieving, too. Chris and Dana were focusing on their wedding plans. Leo was helping them, along with the cupids. They needed something good to focus on; the whole family needed something good to focus on, but he couldn't help feel like they were forgetting the important part.

But he couldn't forget that Mel and Holly were still in Hell.

His sister and cousin were doing time downstairs and needed their help. Even if it wasn't to bring them back to the living, they needed help to get out of a place they didn't belong; to prevent them from becoming things that they shouldn't be.

That was why Wyatt was still standing at the Book of Shadows, hoping against everything that something new had been added. Those on the other side in the afterlife had to have added something in it by now. After a month of looking through the large tome, Wyatt had memorized it all. He knew from a glance when something else had been added, and there was nothing yet. There wouldn't be anything.

Nobody knew how to bring her back.

With a heavy sigh, Wyatt rubbed his eyes and closed the Book of Shadows. He couldn't help but stare at the family symbol, tracing his finger over it. Mel had loved that symbol, long before she understood fully what it had meant. It was the symbol for the Power of Three, but it was more than that for Wyatt and Mel. It was the sign of strength; the sign that they would do anything for family. And now everyone else was turning their back on Mel while she did time in the fiery pit.

Not everyone, Wyatt, he had to remind himself. There was one person taking this harder than he was.

Making his way down the stairs, Wyatt saw a figure hunched over the laptop, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Dean Winchester had been taking Mel's death extremely hard. It was only now that Wyatt had realized just how much Dean had loved Mel.

Wyatt had to be honest that he hated the idea of the two of them together when he first found out. Dean had a habit of being a ladies' man. He would jump from bed to bed, and Sam happily shared stories of Dean's escapades. With Mel being so fragile after Piper and Ben's deaths, Wyatt had wanted something stable for her. That definitely wasn't Dean. At least, Wyatt didn't believe it was. Yet, here they were.

Dean had helped Mel curb her drinking. Not completely, but Mel would start and end days sober now, she'd eat real food and had even become herself again. Dean had been good for her in the end, and it was clear that the two cared about each other. Now it really looked like they'd loved each other, something Wyatt had never seen coming.

The sound of the laptop closing shook Wyatt out of his thoughts. Dean stood from the dining table, making his way over to the cabinet by the window. Pouring himself another glass of whiskey, he spoke, "Nothing new added, I'm guessing."

Wyatt chuckled to himself. The hunter always knew when there was someone else in the room, no matter how quiet they were. Like Wyatt, he had a gut instinct of not being alone, a feeling that came from years of being watched secretly and jumped on from behind.

"No," Wyatt replied, walking down the rest of the stairs to join Dean at the cabinet. Dean held up the bottle of whiskey, glancing over to Wyatt, "No, I've got work in a couple of hours. Need to have a clear head for that."

"Yeah, guess patients wouldn't want their doctor hammered while he cut them open," Dean shrugged his shoulders, downing his glass of whiskey before pouring another one. Wyatt frowned, seeing the glazed look in Dean's green eyes, "Well, those new books Sammy picked up have been useless. I'm back to searching for more."

Dean sat back down at the table, staring at the glass in his hand. He didn't drink the liquid, but watched how it swirled around in the glass, how the bubbles from when it had been poured popped and disappeared.

"It's 10 years," Dean finally sighed, making Wyatt frown. He sat at the table, opposite Dean, so he could watch him carefully, "10 years. I'm not sure if I could last that long. 10 years of torture, every day? Knowing that it would never end?"

"Mel's strong. She won't give in yet." Wyatt told him, but he wasn't even that certain himself. Could he hold out 10 years of daily torture?

"How can you be so sure?" Dean asked, laughing at something but clearly not amused, "You know, I summoned a damn crossroads demon last night. I was so fed up of not getting anywhere that I went out and summoned one. Finally offered up my soul for one to take."

"Dean..." Wyatt frowned deeply, concerned about his friend. If he offered it but was still here without Mel, it must have meant that nothing happened.

"Wouldn't take it," Dean drank some of the whiskey, before looking at Wyatt, "My soul ain't good enough now the King of Hell has Mel. A year and a half ago, my soul was desired and now..."

Dean trailed off, shaking his head. As his jaw clenched, Wyatt just stared in silence. There was nothing for him to say, but it felt like he should say something. Luckily, Dean broke off the silence.

"I just don't want her to suffer for saving my life, my soul," Dean muttered, his voice breaking, "The woman I love...she shouldn't...ya know, this is why I never let myself get too close to someone. Because shit like this happens. People die around me and..."

"Mel would have given her life up whether you were there or not," Wyatt sighed, hating to admit the fact but it was true, "Even if you weren't there, Mel woulda done the exact same thing with those Hellhounds just to save her niece. Family...family has always meant the world to her—to all of us. Sure, she lost her way last year, but that's what grief does to people, right?"

Wyatt's heart was breaking as he watched Dean from across the table. All Dean could do was stare at the amber liquid, as if it was going to give him all the answers he needed.

Finally, Dean downed the rest of the drink and put the glass to one side before opening up the laptop, "I'm not gonna let her suffer any longer."


She just laid there, taking in a breath.

That was a mistake, she cursed at herself, as she felt the pain in her lungs. Breathing by this point in the day was always hard. It didn't quite make sense if she was honest. She'd died; taken her last breath. Somehow her soul still needed to breathe.

Melinda just couldn't get her head around it. How the hell—no pun or anything intended there—did her soul still need to breathe? Was this just another downside to Hell? She needed to breathe and it hurt like crazy every time she did?

"Miss Halliwell, so lovely to see you again," a voice called out to her. Groaning, Mel turned her head on the rack. She'd lost feeling in her arms and legs a long time ago that day, but her neck and back ached. Her arms and legs didn't even feel like they belonged to her body anymore—didn't even feel like they were there the joints had been pulled and stretched to a point that wasn't even imaginable—but her neck and back burned whenever she moved them.

But she wanted to look at the man—the demon—as he walked into the room. She'd knew exactly who it was. For the last 10 years, he'd come and make her the same offer.

"Bite me, Alistair," she groaned through chapped, painful lips. Well, that's what she'd tried to get out. It was a muffle, really. Her tongue had swollen and her mouth was dry. Some days they would cut her tongue out and after the initial pain, she'd welcome the feeling of blood in her mouth; the moisture was helpful. Groaning inwardly, she cursed at what Hell had done to her. She welcomed her tongue being cut out.

Because that's normal, she groaned to herself.

"Day three thousand, six hundred and fifty...one," Alistair taunted her, walking over with a knife in his hand, "3,651 days and you've never said yes. But I'm going to ask you again. I will make you that same offer I always do."

"I won't...wo...won't say yes." Mel glared at him. She was adamant that she wouldn't. It didn't matter what happened to her, but she would never tell him yes. Never give any demon the satisfaction.

"Doesn't matter, I'll still ask," Alistair shrugged his shoulders, running the knife down her body, "Will you become the Queen of Hell?"

Mel tried to laugh, but it was too painful. Instead, she grimaced and looked away from the demon, "No."

Alistair shrugged his shoulders, before leaning in close so he could whisper in her ear. She could feel his warm breath, smell the blood and rot on him from all his years of torturing the people in Hell, "You will give in eventually. Everyone always does."

With that, he walked out of the room, clicking his fingers as he went. Her body was fully repaired. She could feel her arms and legs again, and the awkward position they were in on the rack made her ache already. Silently, she let a tear fall down her cheek. Deep down she knew that Alistair was right. One day she would give in. She would say yes.


So, what did you think of this first chapter? I will give away that each new chapter will be the next month, so each decade for Mel. I know it means there's a lot missing, but it's just snapshots into their thoughts during all this.

Please R&R. I'd love to hear what you think.