Fate of the Heart

by Akasha Sundancer

Dean and Sam are still mourning their father's death, when a vision comes that forces them to seek help from Angel Investigations... DeanOC. R&R Please!

2. Chapter 2

Fate of the Heart

Chapter 2

Author's note: So, the last chapter was my angsty one, and plenty more are on the way, don't you fret! I still really appreciate people who R&R, so please submit a review after you read this. Even if it's just to say that I suck or you love it! ((Smiles)) Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road!

Disclaimer: Damn, I own nada… too bad for me… ((sobs))

PS: There are other crossovers that will be popping up in the next few chapters. Also, more new characters will be introduced! Enjoy!

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Lorne was a happy camper, that was a for sure. The Caritas was full the bursting with prospective customers, and many of them were decent singers, which made the job easier for Lorne. What was the fun in reading someone if they didn't have decent pipes? Ah well, sending people happily along their life paths was its own reward. Speaking of which… the reader's eyes flickered over to the young woman sitting in the darkest corner of the bar.

She had come in around nine, sat down at the table, and hadn't left it ever since. The time was nearing midnight, and to tell the honest truth, the girl was making Lorne a might twitchy. She was a pretty young thing, even if her face was covered by a strange mask. She had long dark hair that fell in waves down her back, and a creamy, chocolate colored skin. He could feel the power rolling off her in waves, and it made him anxious to see what kind of reading he would get from her if she sang for him.

Lorne jumped a little at the sound of his phone ringing, and he reached into his pocket to answer it.

"Lorne."

"Hey Lorne, it's Cordy. Look, I need you to do me a favor."

Lorne smiled, and replied, "Sure honey, whacha need?"

Cordy sounded a little worried as she asked quietly, "Can you tell me if a girl with black hair and an Egyptian mask is there in Caritas?"

Lorne started for a moment, and then quickly replied, "Yeah, hun, she got here about nine and hasn't moved since she sat down. Tell you the truth, she's giving me the heebie jeebies, I mean, you should feel the aura rolling off this girl! Whoo, man, intense."

"Well, look, she was in one of my visions, and it shows her on the stage in Caritas, bleeding and hurt, and I have her, uh, family here. I'm sending over Wesley and the others, so can you just keep her from leaving? They should be there in a few, so it won't be for very long."

"Sure, no prob."

"Thanks a bunch Lorne. I owe you coffee."

"Deal. Talk to ya later sweetcheeks."

"Bye."

As the line went dead, the demon snapped his phone shut, and walked slowly over to the girl's table. She was staring directly at the stage, or so it seemed. It was hard to tell with the mask on, but she could've been looking at him. Lorne sat down, and called a waiter over, ordered them some drinks and leaned forward against the table.

"So," the demon began, "I noticed you brooding in this corner for about three hours now, and I can't help but ask, what're you doing here?"

She turned her head towards him now, the first motion he had seen in her all night. She appeared to be struggling with her speech, then cleared her throat and spoke shakily.

"I, um, ahem, was gonna come for a reading, but I, uh, I'm not so sure now." Her voice had a slight feminine deepness to it, but it seemed to not be the voice that belonged to this strange woman.

"First, honey, if you're not sure, all the more reason to get a reading. Secondly, I know that that's not your voice, so please don't use it. I'd like to hear a voice that suits you, not who you want to be." He chuckled a little. "I have no right to judge you on who you are, I mean, I'm green for God's sake! So come on, lose the fake, lets hear the real you."

The girl started for a moment, the replied. "You remind me of someone, someone I was hoping to find here." Her voice was like music, honey coated music, the sounds of angels singing, all things pure and beautiful. Lorne gasped a little at the sound of it. Never in his lifetime had he heard such a beautiful voice, and he had heard nearly all the voices in the world.

"You have an amazing voice, did you know that?" She cocked her head in what appeared to be amusement. "I don't even need to hear you sing to read you. It's all here, your life, set out before you like a map. All you have to do is find where you wanna go, and you'll get there."

She leaned towards him a little, the necklaces she was wearing jangling against her breastplate. She leaned until she could whisper in his ear and asked, "I need to find a girl. She's all I have left now, and I know you can help me find her. Do you see anything?"

Lorne listened carefully to her voice, and felt a strong power in it, and soon his mind was racing with images, and his head swam with information. He tried his hardest to process it all, and soon he could see a faint image of a young woman, blonde streaked brown hair, and her eyes different colors, one purple, one hazel, her mouth full, red, and laughing as she swung back and forth on an old tire swing.

"She's sixteen now. Very pretty. And happy, really happy."

"Thank you." Lorne felt the prick of tears on his hand, and opened his eyes to see the girl crying, the tears falling down from under the mask. "This means the world to me. I can finally finish what I started, and kill the bastard who took me from my love."

She stood, and wrapped a cloak around her shoulders, walking with her head bowed towards the exit. Lorne stood to stop her, but the words fell out of his head as he saw Angel, Wesley, Gunn, and a tall brown haired young man standing in the doorway, blocking her escape.

"Merrick Munroe?" Angel asked calmly.

The woman halted, raised her head, and stumbled backwards at the sight of them. "Oh god, Sam Winchester? Is that really you?"

Sam started for a moment, not knowing the woman, and surprised that she knew him.

The woman walked forward, the copper hanging off her clinking with every step. She reached a thin and delicate hand out to touch his cheek.

"You look exactly like your brother. The same Winchester stubbornness in your face." She laughed sadly. "Dean…?"

Sam had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could answer the woman. "He's safe, but he needs you. He's barely hanging on to sanity. You're the only one who can pull him back, I know it."

The woman reached behind her ears, and pulled gently on the mask to free it from her face. Before them now stood an angelic faced woman, with dark tresses of hair that fell down her back in waves. Her eyes were an intense violet, showing innocence, but also a deep, profound sense of loss. Her lips were red, and full, her face round and smooth, and her skin a creamy chocolate color.

"Take me to my husband." She said, and collapsed on the ground in a dead faint.

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Dean was in a state of shock, that much he knew. A self enduced coma-type thing, a world that he never wanted to leave. His world was filled with happy memories, filled with the memories that kept him going, kept him from going insane. His body was glassy-eyed and still, but in his mind, he was sitting in the California sunshine with the love of his life.

Merrick and he were sitting on the porch of her small house in the suburbs, resting from the tiring day of painting that they had endured. The couple sat on a swinging chair on her porch, sipping on lemonade and enjoying being close to one another.

Merrick looked up at Dean with a smile, "Do you know what I'm thinking right now?"

Dean smiled back, proud to know that he was the lucky bastard who got to hold this girl in his arms. "Whatcha thinkin' darlin'?"

"I was thinking about how lucky we are to have each other, and how without you, my life would still be a solitary, hollow existence." She said softly, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers.

Dean chuckled, then said jokingly, "You give me too much credit, honey. And since when do we think about these things?"

"Pretty much now."

"Hmm, I guess we'll have to look into that, won't we? No more negative thinking for you, my love." He said with a tone of mock seriousness in his voice. Merrick pouted mockingly in return, and the two of them burst out laughing.

"Well, there is something I wanted to show you, but I thought it could wait a while…"

Dean groaned, "Oh come on, you know how much of an impatient bastard I can be!"

Merrick smirked and waggled a finger at him, "Ah ah ah! You'll have to wait longer if you complain!"

Dean pouted, sticking out his lower lip in an attempted to make his girlfriend giggle… and succeeded beautifully. She laughed and threw her head back, causing Dean to do the same. The stopped, panting for air as they gazed into each other's eyes. At that exact instant, the radio that had been playing softly behind them started a soft guitar tune, and Dean stood, pulling Merrick to her feet.

He leaned over and turned the volume dial up a few notches, hearing the sweet sound of the guitar. He led Merrick out onto the grass in her front yard, and they danced slowly, and sweetly as the sun began to set behind them. Only after several moments of soft music did the young lovers hear the woman begin to sing.

'Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Nightly, beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.'

Dean chose that moment to say, "Love the dress," and he smirked a little as she laughed.

'Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me'

The young hunter knew that he had never, and probably never would again, feel this strongly for any other woman in his life. So it was with great nervousness that he said, "I think I'm in love with you, Merrick Munroe."

'Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We'll take the trail marked on your father's map'

Merrick smiled, and replied just as nervously and possibly more shakily, "I think I love you too, Dean Winchester." She reached up with one hand to stroke the back of his neck. Dean took a steadying breath and leaned down and claimed her lips with his own.

'Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me'

The kiss was soft, deep, and slow, the kind of kiss for lovers who knew they had all the time in the world to just be together. It was perfect, and to the two of them felt as if fireworks were going off in their heads. The moment was unbroken, even as the chorus faded away, and the song came to a stop. Soon the lover had to come up for air, and when they did, their gazes never left each other.

The kiss was what the both of them had thought it would be… perfect.

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Dean's thoughts were interrupted when the door of his room banged open, and Sam came running in, an unconscious Merrick in his arms. Dean's heart leapt at the sight of her, and his eyes filled with tears that he refused to shed. He ran over to the bed where Sam was placing her, and he sat beside her limp form.

"Where did you find her?" He asked, his voice choked, "Is she ok? What happened?"

Sam was rushing to the bags he and Dean had brought in, and pulled out their emergency medical kit. "She was in a demon bar called Caritas. Apparently, demons go there to get psychic readings, and I think she had the same thing in mind."

Dean wasn't interested in details, only in knowing that Merrick was safe. He frowned at the sight of the kit. "What's wrong?"

Sam was busy unraveling a package of gauze and some protective pads to answer, but as soon as he had all the supplies untangled he said, "I think she's lost a lot of blood. She has some really bad cuts on her back and shoulders, maybe some on her legs, but I can't be sure."

"You go get some cool water, and I'll check the wounds, Sammy."

Sam glanced sharply at his big brother, but didn't comment. He stood and hurried out of the room to get the water, leaving his brother to care for his wife. As soon as Sam was gone, Dean let out a shaky breath.

"Merrick? Honey, can you hear me?" He asked, almost praying for her to answer.

A slight moan escaped the woman's lips, then she muttered in a weak voice that made his heart bleed, "Is this a dream? Will I pinch myself and find you're not here?"

A sob snuck past her lips, and she grabbed Dean, pulling him into a tight, loving embrace. The hunter buried his face in her soft hair, breathing in her familiar scent. "Baby, I was asking myself the same thing…" his voice choked as he tightened his hold on her, "God, I missed you."

Tears formed in his young wife's eyes, and she broke into wracking sobs that shook her thin frame. "Deanie, I'm so sorry, please don't leave me. Don't let him get me again."

"I won't, I promise."

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Winifred Burkle was a curious girl by nature, it was one of her flaws, and also one of the most wonderful things about her. It was the reason why the portal to Pylea had been opened, and how she had ended up there for five years, the reason she was crazy. 'Not crazy!' she scolded herself sternly, '…Okay, maybe a little. I mean, I am having a conversation with myself!' Fred smiled a quiet smile and went back to scrawling calculations on the walls.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Oh dear, it was one of the voices again. Fred stiffened, and dropped the marker she was holding. Only then did she realize that she wasn't in the room Angel had given her, but scrawling on the walls of the elegant hallway. Fred flushed with embarrassment, then remembered that it was one of the voices, and tried her best to ignore it. The voice would go away if she ignored it. They always did, after a short time.

"Miss? Excuse me, are you alright?"

"Shh! I'm ignoring you!" Fred covered her mouth with her hands, not even realizing that she had spoken the words.

"Ok, why are you ignoring me?" the voice asked politely. 'Nice voice,' she thought, 'sounds pretty.'

Fred decided to be straight forward with the voice, hoping it would just go away after she explained things to it. "Well, you ain't real, you see, so if I just ignore you, and keep real still, you'll go away, and I won't be crazy, see? 'Cause I ain't crazy… OK, maybe a little crazy, but not that much!"

She heard heavy male footsteps come towards her, and she turned to see a brown haired man, with soulful brown eyes, and a slight look of worry on his face. She looked shyly up at him, and smiled a nervous smile. He smiled slightly too, "I'm pretty sure I'm real, at least, I was the last time I checked."

Fred lowered her gaze and shook her head, "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second, sir, but I just don't think you're really here. I know Angel's here, 'cause he comes to see me, ask me about my work, and I'm just gonna keep working, ok? OK, bye now!" She smiled again, and went back to cheerfully scribbling on the walls.

Sam looked at the strange girl curiously, then sat down next to her on the ground. "Do you wanna come with me to the lobby? I really don't know my way around here, and I think you'd know it better than me."

Fred stopped her calculating to look at the young man sitting next to her. He was a kind person, that much she could tell from his voice, and not many people beyond Angel and his friends had been kind to her since she had entered the portal into Pylea. And so it was with a wary heart that she stood and, with a bowed head, she lead the way down to the lobby.

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--A.N.: This is where we'll be getting into some other crossovers, by the way. I won't ruin the surprise, so here we go…--

Allan Eppes lay on his favorite leather recliner, eyes weary as he waited for his sons to come home when the knock came. Well, less of a knock, more of a desperate pounding. His curiosity was aroused at the sound of the pounding. Who would be knocking at his door at eleven o'clock at night? Never the less, he felt compelled to get out of his chair and open the door, which he did with a slight quickness in his steps.

Allan was soon glad that he had not ignored the knocking, for on his doorstep was a young girl, barely sixteen years old, soaked to the bone and wrapped in a wet blanket. The blanket itself would've done little to protect her from the elements, let alone the terrible rainstorm outside, as the material was torn and had holes in it in most places.

"My god, come in, quickly, and we'll get you warmed up! What were you doing out there?" Allan asked, shocked out of his exhaustion as he lead the shaking and frightened girl to the living room.

The young woman smiled shyly, "I sang, and he liked it. I didn't like singing for the yellow eyed man." She shook even more, as if the cold was seeping its way deeper into her flesh.

Allan frowned, but sat her down on the couch, and ran into the kitchen to make tea. After placing the kettle on the stove to boil, he brought several quilts and blankets to the stranger who sat on his couch, knees drawn up to her chest, her curious eyes roaming around the room. He wrapped her in the thick wool blankets, and she snuggled her shaking body further into the blankets.

"Would you mind telling me your name? My sons might be able to help you get back to your family if they know your name." He looked at her with the profound concern of a father, and she smiled at him. His heart leapt at the sight of her stunning smile.

"The yellow eyed man called me his love, but he was mean to his love. My false keepers called me 'darling' and 'honeybunch'… I'm not sure what mother and father would call me… I found a paper in the attic, and it has a name on it. I think it's mine, but can't be sure… The name was Serenity W-M." Her smile brightened as she said, in a conspiratorial manner, "I think it's a very pretty name, don't you?"

Allan smiled back, and replied with an easy, "It's a beautiful name, Serenity."

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Don Eppes was beyond tired, or exhausted as he and his team began to head home for a few hours of much needed rest. This new case was particularly gruesome, and hit home for all of them, especially his baby brother. Don regretted bringing Charlie onto the case, but the entire building was as confused as they were, and the team hoped that Charlie's math might help them find the missing girl.

An entire family had been cut open at the belly, pinned to the ceiling of their home, and then the house had been set on fire. All but one were killed, a young girl, the daughter of the family. She had been tortured for hours, from what evidence collected from the house told them, in her own home, and when her family came home, they were killed, and the girl was dragged away by her attacker.

The frustrating thing was that the track of the attacker and the girl had lead to the middle of a nearby football field, then had simply vanished. Perhaps a helicopter had taken them? No, they would have left some marks in the grass. It seemed as if her attacker had dragged the teenaged girl to the middle of the field, and had disappeared in a puff of smoke. Literally.

The forensic team had found evidence of sulfuric smoke residue around the area where the girl and her attacker had disappeared. So much for the helicopter theory. The entire team was exhausted from the twenty hours of non-stop investigation, and they still had no leads on her. Don had been so frustrated that he simply growled, and ordered all those working on the case to get a good sleep, and return to work at nine AM, sharp.

'Barely five hours of sleep, but it'll have to do,' Don thought to himself as he pulled into the driveway of his dad and younger brother's house. He could have driven back to his own apartment, but Don supposed that his dad's house was closer to the office, so it would be easier for him to get to work in the morning. 'Dad never really minds if I crash there. I think sometimes he likes the company.'

Charlie had agreed to a ride from him back at the office, and he jumped out of the SUV as it reached the driveway, running towards the house as quickly as he could to escape the downpour. Don turned off the car, and, holding his jacket over his head to protect himself, he ran towards the house, just as Charlie was opening the front door.

Don had expected his dad to be asleep in his recliner, waiting for them, but was surprised to see Allan up and entertaining a guest. "Dad? What's going on? I came to crash tonight, I hope you don't m—" The FBI agent was speechless with shock as he saw who his father was offering tea to, and he gathered from the soft thunk of a bag falling to the floor that Charlie was too. "Oh my god."

There on the couch, wrapped in layers of blankets and quilts sat the missing girl. His jaw had dropped and Don did nothing to fix his problem. Allan soon became concerned at the looks on his sons faces, and asked them sternly, "Donnie, Charlie, what's wrong? And close your mouths or you'll collect bugs."

The boys immediately did as they were told, and it was Don who first spoke up, "Well, how do you expect us to act when a girl who has been tortured, and watched her family being killed, and has been missing for a week appears in our living room?"

Sudden silence ensued, and was broken after a few seconds by a giggle from the girl seated on the couch. All eyes were on her as she giggled. Soon her giggles turned into bouts of laughter.

Serenity paused as she noticed the eyes on her, and giggled, "They know all, feel all, see all, with skin like the clouds. He he he… collecting bugs…"

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AN: So what do you think? If you don't like the crossovers, or know which one I've just added here, then well, you're just not a Numb3rs fan, are ya? Anywhoodles, there will be plenty of crossovers later on, so bear with me. Also, I'll be giving you some more interesting new characters in the next chapter, so just hold your horses! Plenty of good things will be happening soon, and as some of you have suspected, the girl is insane. Much like River Tam in 'Firefly'. I do love Joss Whedon… and Johnny Depp… but that's not the point, is it?

Remember to R&R, ok? TY!!

-Scarlet Rose