A/N: Yes, yes, I'm well aware that it's completely unconscionable to go six months between posting chapters. In my defense, I did have a baby in the meantime, and I'm only now, after two months of motherhood, beginning to get more than three hours of sleep at a stretch. I must admit, though, this chapter has been written in its entirety for several months now, and I'm only now getting around to posting it...oops! I won't lie and say that I'll post another chapter soon. I know where this story is going, at least for the immediate future, but there's just no telling when I'll get around to sitting down to write it. If you're still following, I applaud you, and I hope you'll stick with me until the end of this. Please review and let me know you're reading?
She closed her eyes, took a cleansing breath, and concentrated
She closed her eyes, took a cleansing breath, and concentrated. Seconds stretched into minutes before her face and fists clenched in frustration and she let out an irritated yell. "Damn it, Missouri! Why can't I do this?!"
"You're trying too hard, sugar. You've never had to strain to get a vision before, and you shouldn't now. Just relax, clear your mind of absolutely everything. Then accept whatever comes to you."
"And if whatever comes to me is something I don't want?"
"You mean a vision you don't want to see?"
"I mean a demon I don't want in my head."
"Not gonna happen in my house, baby. This place is warded so tight, it's a wonder some humans make it in. And besides that, you don't have any shields against possession or any other psychic manipulation. We'll work on that later, but you clearing your mind and accepting whatever happens doesn't make you any more vulnerable than usual."
Melody bit her lip and looked at Sam. In answer to her unspoken question, he nodded and said, "Yeah, we'll take you to Bobby next. He'll give you something to keep you from being possessed."
She nodded back, then returned her attention to Missouri. Melody sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the chair where the older woman reclined. Sam lounged on the sofa across the room, shooting occasional glances between his watch and the door. Melody was starting to worry a little about Dean's prolonged absence as well, but she figured he was a big boy and could take care of himself.
She closed her eyes again, and took a few more deep cleansing breaths. Finally feeling as if she could relax and let go, she began to consciously release her muscles, starting with her feet and working her way up to the small muscles of her face. She then consciously cleared her mind of all thought, feeling her concerns fade away. She lost any concept of time as she floated in the vacuum of her own mind, so she had no idea whether it had been minutes or hours before it happened. But the vision slammed into her consciousness with devastating clarity.
The beautiful black metal beast gleamed in the early morning sunlight enveloping the peaceful clearing, but her eyes were drawn immediately to the man sitting on its hood, staring out across the calm surface of the pond. He had obviously been sitting there gazing out for quite some time, as his shoulders slumped with exhaustion…but his emotions were still in a state of turmoil. It must have been the combination of physical and emotional fatigue that led him to let his guard slip, for there was no other way that he could have been caught unawares. But the only warning was a slight rustle in the bushes off to his left, followed by a low whistling sound, and then his fingers were grabbing for the small dart protruding from his neck. Before he could do more than reach for the gun always secreted at his waist, he had slid unconscious to the ground. A tall dark-skinned man, thin but muscular, emerged from the trees to stand over the fallen man. "Well, Dean, looks like you get to be the bait yet again."
A flash of darkness, and then…
He doesn't stir to wakefulness the way most people would. Instead, he is unconscious one moment, and the next, he is completely lucid. He can see from the light flooding through the missing windowpane that it is not yet noon, and he assumes that it is still the same day. He tests the ropes binding him to the chair, even though he knows they will be secure. He feels for the blade he always keeps tucked into his waistband, even though he knows it will have been taken away by now if he was captured by someone skilled enough to get the drop on him. And when his captor enters the room, he stills and puts on his game-face, even though his back is to the door, and he has no clue who holds him prisoner, only knows that he is no longer alone because the quality of the air in the room has changed very slightly. "Dean-o," his jailor says with a smirk, "I think I've had about enough of playing with you and your brother. You're both going to die this time, and it won't be slow or painful, though I would love to torture you both for what you did to me the last time we met. I learned some things during my time away that I could use to make both of you wish you had never been born. But I'm going to show you two a little mercy…even dear evil Sammy. As soon as I've got you both where I want you, I'm gonna put bullets in both of your heads, and then this will all be over."
Another flash of darkness, followed by…
Dean is no longer the only one tied to a chair. Now Sam and Melody sit on either side of him similarly constrained. Dean is bleeding profusely from a cut above his left eyebrow, the eye itself swollen shut. Sam is unconscious, and his face is covered with bruises. Melody appears physically unharmed, but she is shaking in fear. The light has changed, and it is now early evening. Gordon paces before the trio, then tosses the contents of a bucket of water into Sam's face. The younger Winchester comes to with a splutter and a curse. "I wasn't planning on you two having made a friend. Wonder what manner of creature she must be to have gotten entangled with you. Is she one of Sam's minions that escaped from Hell when he opened the gate? Or just a misguided human trapped into thinking that you were the good guys?" He eyed her, then spat out "Christo." She piqued an eyebrow at him before commenting, "The only evil is this room, Gordon Walker, is you." He casually sauntered over to her and brutally back-handed her across the face, then laughed at Dean's snarl of outrage. She raised her head and looked into his eyes again. "Perhaps you're not evil after all, Gordon. Maybe you're just insane. I hope for your sake that's the case, because otherwise, there's probably a special corner of Hell reserved just for you." This time, he pulled back his fist and punched her. As her head rocked back, Dean and Sam both pulled at their restraints so hard that the chairs threatened to break, but they subsided when Gordon casually placed his pistol against her temple. "I'm tired of this. Like, I said before, I've had enough of playing games with you. Goodbye." With that, he calmly shot first Melody, then Dean and Sam, each very precisely, in the forehead. Once satisfied that they were all dead, he wiped off the blood that had spattered into his face then, tucking his pistol back into his waistband, he walked out of the room and out of the building, whistling under his breath.
Her eyes snapped open with a gasp. "Mel?" Sam asked cautiously. "Did you get something?"
Lost in thought, she didn't reply. "Mel?"
"Hmm?" she murmured. "Oh! No, I didn't get anything." She climbed unsteadily to her feet, refusing to look Missouri in the eye, knowing that the older woman had already seen right through her lie and was staring at her disapprovingly. She sensed the confusion Sam was feeling over her somewhat odd behavior and made a conscious effort to get hold of herself. "You know what? I think I need to take a little break. Missouri, do you mind if I borrow your car? I'd like to drive around for a bit, see the sights." She looked at the woman pleadingly, begging her with her eyes not to argue.
"Sure, honey," Missouri replied cautiously. "Why don't you take Sam with you?"
"Oh, I doubt Sam wants to come with me," she said quickly. "I was gonna call home and chat with my sister for a while, actually. It's been a few days since I've spoken to her. He'll be bored listening to my girl talk."
"That sounds like a good plan to me, Mel," Sam cut in. "Why don't you take some time to yourself, and we'll get on with this stuff when you get back. Hopefully Dean will be back by then and we can all grab some lunch later."
She tensed at the mention of Dean and, not trusting herself to speak, merely nodded before heading upstairs to get her shoes. On her way back down, she stepped surreptitiously into the room where Sam had slept and slid the key ring from his jacket pocket into her own, thanking her lucky stars that Sam's constant griping about Dean not trusting him with a spare key to the Impala had finally had the anticipated results.
Back downstairs, she took the key that Missouri indicated from its hook beside the door, and headed outside, nodding over her shoulder at Missouri's pointed, "Be careful." They both ignored Sam's looked of confusion. "I won't be more than a couple of hours," she promised, hoping all the while that it was a promise she could keep.
The moment the door closed, Sam asked, "What was that all about?"
"Nothing, dear," Missouri answered. "She's just got something she feels she needs to do on her own."
"And I guess I can't get you to tell me what it is?"
"If she wanted you to know, she'd have told you herself." The older woman stared out the front window as Melody pulled onto the street and headed away, hoping that the girl knew what she was doing. She had seen the entire vision as Melody had experienced it, and knew what was going through the young woman's mind. And as much as she worried about the plan Melody had hastily contrived, Missouri agreed that, if Melody could pull it off, it would be the best possible solution to the situation.
Although Missouri agreed that Sam should not be involved if at all possible, she maintained her awareness of the other woman's progress. If the plan should go awry, she wanted to be able to send Sam after his brother and his Guardian posthaste.
Sam, in his growing concern over his brother, stood and started to pace. He pulled out his cell phone to call Dean, despite the fact that the call had gone straight to voice mail the last half a dozen times he had attempted to reach his stubborn brother.
"Let him alone, Sam," Missouri ordered.
He looked at her and shrugged. "I just want to make sure he's okay, Missouri. It's not like him not to return my calls, or to stay gone this long at all. I mean, it's already almost ten in the morning, he's been gone for over twelve hours! I'm starting to think something may have actually happened to him."
"He's fine," she lied. "I've been keeping tabs on him, Sam, and he's just not ready to come back yet. He's got some pretty serious things to think about, and he wants to be alone for a while longer." She sighed, then continued, "If he's not back by the time Melody returns, I'll take you to him myself."
"You know where he is?"
"I'm a psychic, Sam. I can track just about anybody anywhere if I feel so inclined."
"Really?"
"Boy, why don't you quit questioning my abilities and sit down and talk to me about something pleasant."
Reassured, Sam ceased his pacing and returned to his seat. Missouri, meanwhile, hid her own growing anxiety.
