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Melinda watched in horror as Jim gasped, one hand going to his throat as if he coudn't breathe. She started back towards him but Dean grabbed her arm, holding her back. She strained against him.
"Jim! Oh, god, Jim!"
Sam rose slowly to his feet, still glaring down at Jim. In one swift movement he brought his knee forwards, knocking Jim over onto his back. The other man lay there, choking and gasping, his hands stained with blood as he fumbled at his shirt. Blood was spreading over it in a sickening wave. Melinda felt tears streaming from her eyes. She cried out Jim's name again, and the realized that Sam was lifting his foot to stamp the knife in deeper, his face twisted and unrecognizeable.
"Sam, no, please!" she begged, pulling against Dean's grip. "Please! Jim!"
BANG!
The rifle in Dean's hand went off with an alarmingly loud bang which echoed around the huge warehouse. Sam let out a harsh scream and stumbled away from Jim, clutching at his side where the rock salt had embedded itself in his flesh. Dean finally released Melinda and she ran to Jim, falling to her knees beside him. She took his face with both hands, and his eyes flickered to hers.
"Jim... oh god, honey, tell me what do do," she said, her voice choked with sobs. "What should I do?"
She looked at the knife and reached out when he didn't reply, thinking she should take it out. But his hand latched over her wrist with surprising strength.
"D-don't," he forced out. "It'll... b-bleed..."
She nodded. "I'll call an ambulance, okay?"
"Sammy?"
She twisted around as she felt in her bag for her mobile. Dean had lowered the rifle and was moving cautiously towards Sam, who was hunched against the wall. The ghost appeared at his side, wrapping her arms around him. Sam shuddered, turning his head towards her, and she stroked his hair.
"Shh, love, it will heal," she whispered. "The wounds of your heart will heal..."
Melinda realized with a jolt that she probably didn't even realize that Sam was injured - she was repeating words of her own past. Dean's face was contorted with fury and grief as he moved forwards, his rifle still ready.
"Get away from him."
Her eyes narrowed. "He's mine."
"Sammy, do you hear me?" Dean called, appealing to his brother. "Sam? C'mon, man, listen to me."
Sam lifted his head, his eyes cold and dark. Melinda caught sight of a flicker of silver on his shirt and frowned, leaning forwards. There was something around his neck...
"Get away from us," Sam snarled. His voice was rough and harsh, nothing like the Sam she remembered. "We're in love. We're together."
"Don't tell me you believe that crap, Sam!" Dean cried. "Come on! She's using you, she's playing with your head."
Sam shook his head. "No. We're in love. We're in love."
He repeated it, his voice a monotone. The sound of it made Melinda's stomach fall away. She punched in nine one one on her mobile and lifted it to her ear. Dean was only a few meters from his brother now, and the ghost tightened her grip on him.
"You cannot seperate us."
"You cannot seperate us," Sam said, copying her words.
"We're in love."
"We're in love."
"We're meant to be together."
"We're meant to be together..."
"Stop it, Sam!" Dean snapped. "This isn't you and you know it. Snap outta it, now!"
"He doesn't need you anymore. He only needs me," the ghost spat.
A rush of freezing wind blew through the building, whipping Melinda's hair up. She shuddered, looking down and taking Jim's hand. He squeezed her back weakly. By the time she looked up again, Sam and the ghost had vanished and Dean was standing rigid and alone.
"Dean!" she called. "Dean, help me!"
Dean turned slowly, his face pale. He ran a hand through his short hair and over his face, sniffing. Someone finally picked up and Melinda forgot him, turning to Jim once more.
"Hello, yes, I need an ambulance..."
She explained where they were and what had happened before hanging up and looking at Dean again. "Dean, please help," she whispered.
Dean blinked and then slowly moved over to her. Jim was struggling to draw breath by now, agony written in every line on his face with every gasp of air he took. Dean crouched down beside them and examined the wound.
"He'll be okay. If it had hit a lung he'd be choking up blood by now."
"There must be something we can do-"
"No. Just wait for the ambulance." Dean rose to his feet and headed for the door. Melinda jumped up, fear leaping through her.
"Dean! Where are you going?"
Dean paused at the door. "I have to find Sam. I... I'm sorry."
She heard the pain in his voice and nodded. He hesitated.
"The ambulance will be here any minute. Make something up, say you were mugged or something. I just have to stop her, before she..." his voice trailed off.
"Okay," Melinda whispered.
She turned and knelt beside Jim once more, taking his hand.
"Keep breathing, honey," she murmured. "You're going to be fine. The ambulance is on its way."
When she glanced over her shoulders a few moments later, Dean was gone.
She knew he was in pain, and it confused her.
He was lying against her, his eyes half-closed, his arms still wrapped about his middriff. With ever breath he took she could feel him trembling. She knew he had black and yellow bruises all over his stomach, but she found that it didn't worry her as much as it should. She was concerned but... but not concerned enough. She played with a lock of his hair as she thought, looking down at his blank face. Where was his love in return for hers? Why did he not openly accept her? Why did she have to keep pushing him? Back in the warehouse he had almost broken free, but she had regained control. She frowned, her eyes narrowing.
Maybe he was not the one.
Maybe she had been wrong.
She would give him one last chance to prove himself. After that... well. She would not be so forgiving.
"Dean, I'm telling you," Bobby said. "I've only ever seen one other ghost this powerful, but even it vanished after I'd burned its remains. That's your only hope."
"But I did! Apart from the locket, but she has that now."
"Then until you find it, it looks like you're in a rut."
Dean pressed a trembling hand against his eyes. "I... I just don't know how much longer he has left Bobby. None of the other victims lasted more than a day. She acted pretty attatched to him but... I just don't know."
"I'm sorry, Dean. You know I'd be down there as soon as I could-"
"No," Dean said shortly. "I don't want any more of my family getting caught up in this. I'll save Sam."
"Okay, kid. Just be careful."
Dean hung up and threw his mobile down on the bed. He pulled his dad's journal towards him once more and began to flip through it for the millionth time. He had hoped - no, prayed - that Bobby would have had something to say that would help but the older hunter was just as stumped as he was. Sam was in trouble.
"Come on, Dad, give me something here," Dean mumbled, scanning each page. "I need something... anything..."
His mobile rang and he fumbled for it desperately, certain that it would be Sam saying that he had escaped somehow, that he was okay... he was in such a rush that he didn't even bother to look at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Dean, its me."
His heart sank. Melinda.
"Hey," he said gruffly. He still felt bad about leaving her alone in the warehouse with Jim bleeding on the ground, but he had to find Sam no matter what the cost.
"Jim's stable," Melinda said. "He was lucky... really lucky. It wasn't as bad as it looked." Her voice still sounded as if she was holding back sobs, but at least she was keeping it together.
"That's good," Dean managed.
"Is... have you had any luck? With Sam?"
Dean shut his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself. "No," he said softly. "I haven't."
"I'm sorry. But there was something I forgot to tell you, something... well, I don't know if it'll help or not."
"What?" Dean asked tiredly, rubbing his forehead. He very much doubted that Melinda had anything to say that would help him rescue his brother.
"Just that when I looked at Sam, he had something around his neck."
"What?"
"I think it was the locket," she said. "Sam was wearing the ghost's locket."
Dean froze. "Are you sure? Are you positive?"
"Yes."
Dean leapt to his feet, the journal sliding from his lap and hitting the floor. He ignored it. "That's what it is! That's what she's using to control him. If we just get it off him then maybe... maybe..."
"You think he'll be back to normal?"
"Its worth a shot," Dean replied. "And with the locket we can destroy this bitch... uh, I mean ghost. Melinda, thanks."
"Its okay."
Dean hesitated. "Listen... about Jim... it wasn't Sam's fault," he said defensively. "He wasn't in control of himself. If he had known what was happening he never would have done it. The guy can't even kick a dog. He would never have hurt Jim intentionally-"
"I know," she said. "Its okay. He's going to be fine."
Dean nodded. "Okay. Then I guess I just have to find a ritual to summon this bitch and we're good to go..."
"Call me when you do."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "What?"
Melinda's voice smouldered with anger. "I want to be there."
"I don't know-"
"Dean, please. You owe me this much."
Dean sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll call you. We'll kill her together."
So they have a plan... but something's bound to go wrong... ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review if you did!
SUPRNTRAL LVR.
