Author Talks: Hello lovelies! I know I haven't posted in a while, but I've got a nice long chapter for you guys to make up for it. *Cliff hanger warning* mwahahahaha! I'm in the midst of stu(dying) for exams but I'm nearly finished, so I'll post yet another chapter this week. Please please PLEASE leave a review for me? I love reading them, they make my day and my heart bubble with joy. Also, feel free to follow, favorite this story and/or pm me on any other comments or concerns you may have :) xoxo-Annie
"It sure is nice out today," Said the cab driver, attempting to make small talk with the freckle faced girl in the back seat. But while the cab driver was busy rambling mundane nonsense to her, the girl was having a conversation of her own.
He looks a little young to be a cab driver...don't you think?
Basil's suspicious voice sounded in Molly's head. She eyed the driver in the front. To her surprise, Baz was right. He looked around 19, sporting shaggy blond hair and a simple plaid jacket over his wife beater. Molly shrugged; I suppose it's only natural, what with this being a small town and everything.
She could feel Baz's uncertainty. Sparrow?
Molly's head quirked up. What is it, Baz?
Nothing. I just need to make myself scarce for a little while... He trailed off, sounding preoccupied.
Molly's heart quickened. Was he leaving her? Are you leaving me?
She heard the unmistakeable snort coming from the corners of her mind. Sparrow, I couldn't leave you if I tried.
What does that mean, Baz? Are you saying you're trapped in side of my mind? She bit her lip and started to chew it nervously.
No. He said firmly. Stop that, Molly. I'm here because I want to be, understood? He spoke in a stern voice that sent shivers down her spine.
Molly nodded and imagined sending a small kiss to his cheek, all the while blushing profusely. Had it worked? She shook her head and sighed a shaky breath. Stay safe. It was not a request.
For an awful moment or two, Baz was silent. She heard him inhale sharply, and she felt him place a chaste kiss on her fore head. Thank you, Sparrow.
Come back to me, She whispered.
Always. He said without hesitation. And then, he was gone.
Molly could feel the emptiness in her mind as soon as the gentle breeze that was Baz left her head. She felt cold, colder than she'd ever been. Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked out the car window. Rolling pastures of green swerved in and out of her vision. And then, one by one, small grey bricked houses appeared on the sides of the long road ahead of them.
After another twenty minutes, they drove past a dark forest green sign Welcome to Lawrence. Molly sighed and sagged back into her seat.
"So," Said the young cab driver. He looked at her from the car mirror, "You here on vacation?"
Molly's lips quirked up at the corners to form a small smile. "Something like that."
The cab driver nodded and took a hasty sip of his beer. Setting it down in his dusty cup holder, he eyed Molly with suspicion. "Parents?"
She looked away from him, focusing back onto the town rolling into their view from the window. "I'm an orphan." Molly said softly.
The driver nodded solemnly, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "I'm Jogan."
Molly turned so that she saw his eyes gleaming in the car mirror, "I'm Molly. It's a pleasure, Jogan." She allowed him another small smile before returning her uninterested gaze out the window.
"The pleasure's all mine." Jogan said quietly.
Molly's eyebrows pulled together, she frowned. She had the feeling she wasn't supposed to hear that. But before her thoughts that were scattered puzzle pieces could click together, a wave of darkness washed over her, knocking her head back into the car seat and pushing her into yet another deep slumber.
There was no Baz there to pull her out of her sleep. No one except for Jogan. Her frightened thoughts were quickly replaced with a mental image, one of chocolate melting over a stove top. The chocolate swirled around in a cluster of wild bubbles, forming a set of piercing brown eyes. The man's hair hung to his shoulders in a dark brown shaggy heap. His lips were thin, but laced with quiet kindness. Sammy? The name rolled into her mind with silky ease. But she was wrong. The man was not a lone. Another man, not quite as tall, but just as much power emanating from him as Sam appeared. A cargo jacket was slung over his broad shoulders, a smirk resting on his plump lips. Dean.
She jumped back, startled by the two together, her left and right cheek burned with fierce intensity, Molly screamed. A hand clamped suddenly over her mouth, it was Dean. "You might not want to do that, dollface." His voice was deeper than Baz's and not quite as milky. But it was however touched with concern. Molly nodded and her breathing slowed.
Dean's hand was removed from her mouth. "It hurts." Molly whimpered.
Sam touched a cool finger to her cheek, frowning. "It's progressing, Dean." Sam's voice, though harsh at first, was an awful lot like his brother's. She knew that now. They were brothers. And I'm their sister. The thought raced in and out of her mind with force.
Dean's shoulders slumped slightly. He patted Molly on the head, smiling with weary eyes. "She'll come to us soon. Cas said so."
Tears spilled out of Molly's eyes. "It hurts." She said again. That seemed to be the only thing she was capable of saying.
Dean bit his lip, taking in a shaky breath. He was looking at her like if he looked hard enough, Molly would shatter. "Oh Molls," He said, his voice breaking. He took her in his warm arms and rubbed circles in her back. The pain intensified.
Sam ran his fingers through Molly's dark brown locks, so much like his she realized. Her cheeks burned.
With casual grace, the men leaned down and placed their lips to her cheeks. The fiery pain consumed her body with rapid aggression. A scream ripped through Molly's core.
The tires underneath her squealed and Molly's eyes fluttered open. Had no one heard her screaming? The dream had not vanished this time. It stayed, lingering with a taunting aura in her mind.
"Well, we're here. City library, right?" The driver looked back at Molly with his head tilted.
Molly stared at him, open mouthed for a moment, clutching at her right cheek.
"Is...is that blood?" Jogan's eyes widened at the streak of red dripping out from under her hand.
Molly's mouth shut. She straightened, wincing slightly, but handed him a twenty dollar bill. "Keep the change." She muttered. And without another word, she exited the cab and slammed the door closed.
She walked at a brisk pace to the library, walking in, some of the tension in her body left. The familiar smell of books flooded her nostrils; she inhaled it greedily and slumped back on a tall white column against the wall.
Molly had figured that the library was the safest place to go. She straightened herself up again for the millionth time that day and tried desperately to regain her composure. She was still holding her cheek when the librarian pointed her to the direction of the nearest public phone.
She hauled up the phone book, flipping through it violently, nearly ripping all its pages. Winchester, Dean. Her finger traced its black letters. She nearly collapsed with relief.
The rings seemed to drag on for a life time. There was a lone beep after what seemed like ages, the voicemail answered.
Molly slammed the phone down on its hook and clutched harder at her burning cheek.
Where was Baz? Her eyes darted from corner to corner around her, searching for him. But that was a little impossible, since she had never seen him.
Her bloody hand fell from her cheek to her side. Molly's shoulders sagged once again like the weight of the world had once again been placed on her shoulders. She rang him again, straining her ears for anything but the monotonous dial tones. Once. Twice. Three times. By her tenth try, helpless sobs were wracking her body.
Molly's head whipped from side to side, searching for familiar faces. She was once again holding her bloody cheek, and the pain was getting worse.
She stood still in the middle of the pavement and hugged herself with her free arm. She took one last look at the phone behind her, a tear slipping down her burning cheek. Molly shook her head, she was lost and tired and hungry, not to mention her right cheek felt as if it were on fire.
She looked at the grey sky above her and silently pleaded for a direction. Any direction. Because anywhere was better than nowhere.
Turn left.
Molly jumped at the voice inside her mind. It wasn't Basil's. It was her own.
