Tell Me
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"I can't friggin' believe this!"
Sam flinched at the anger he heard reverberating in his brother's voice, and even as he rose to his feet, he knew that he didn't stand much of a chance on stopping the fight that was sure to break out.
"Dean, man, come on, it was 8 years ago," Nathan pleaded from his place across the fire, his hands running down his face in frustration. "Brooke and I were both so drunk, we didn't even remember it."
Dean scoffed, tossing his beer bottle onto the ground. "Oh, and that just excuses it then, huh?"
"Dean," Sam said softly, grasping onto his brother's shoulder. His older brother merely shrugged it off as he took a step forward.
"Where's this little revelation been hiding all these years, Nate, huh? Obviously it was a big enough thing for you to make a freaking tape of it. Why not tell me before now? You know, like two friggin' days before my wedding?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.
Mouth, oddly silent through the fiery exchange that had been occurring for a good 15 minutes, cleared his throat from his seat next to Nathan. "Dean…it was a long time ago. Believe me when I say that the Brooke and Nathan back in high school were nothing like the ones you know now. I mean…they were pretty much miserable human beings."
"Dude," Nathan said defensively, holding his arms out at his sides as he stared at his high school friend.
"What?" Mouth asked, shrugging. "It's true."
Nathan sighed, raising his eyes to the star lit sky. "Doesn't mean you have to broadcast it to the whole damn world," he said under his breath, running a hand through his hair before he lowered his gaze to meet Dean's across the fire. His friend's face was a mask of anger, hurt, and disappointment, and Nathan honestly wasn't sure which bothered him most. "Look…we were idiots back in high school. Brooke and I…neither of us knew a thing about boundaries, and it's not like we had fantastic role models or anything. We just…we screwed up, man."
Dean merely shook his head, running a hand down his face as he turned to the side.
"Dean," Sam ventured, taking a step towards his brother. He nearly recoiled with the heat of Dean's glare that answered him. "Look…Nathan has a point. I mean, you've gotta admit…you've done some skeezy things in your past too." He held up his hands when Dean's glare grew. "I'm just making a statement, Dean. But apparently you AND Brooke have a few secrets from each other regarding your…pasts. And, since I doubt you've been 100% forthcoming with her, maybe you need to give Nathan a break here." Dean merely scoffed, and turned away. "Or not."
"Jesus Christ," Dean said under his breath, running a hand down his face as he turned on his heel to head back towards the house.
"Dean," Nathan said, taking a step towards him. He froze when his friend whipped around, glaring as he pointed in his direction.
"Nathan, for the love of God, if you know what's good for you, you will stay the hell away from me."
They watched as Dean stormed towards the house, his broad shoulders and back rigidly straight. The night was silent then, the fire crackling behind them. "It was 8 years ago," Nathan said dejectedly, dropping his head in his hands.
"You really stepped in it this time, you idjit."
The three men around the fire raised their heads to stare at the lawn chair that housed Bobby Singer.
"I thought you were asleep," Sam said, frowning.
"Boy, with all the small-town drama that goes on around this town, I'm lucky if I get a catnap," he said, pulling himself into a sitting position and positioning his ballcap higher on his head. "Great bachelor party, boys. Really. Haven't had this much fun since 'Nam." He shook his head, reaching blindly for the beer he'd placed next to his chair. "Here's hoping the girls are having better luck."
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"BODY SHOTS!"
A chorus of cheers followed Millie's announcement, and Brooke couldn't help but laugh as her usually meek and mild assistant lifted her shirt to expose her flat abdomen as she plopped herself down on the bar counter. She shook her head, swiping at the neon pink feathers her girlfriends had woven into her hair, and looked over at Haley. "And we thought your bachelorette party was crazy," she shouted above the music.
Haley laughed, throwing her head back as she down the shot that had been placed in front of her. She grimaced, shaking her head as she sat the glass back on the counter. "Uh, that's because we're actually legal this time, Brooke." She smiled and rested her elbows against the counter as she looked over at her friend. "You are oddly coherent there, Miss Bride-to-be."
Brooke grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "I just want to revel in it, you know? I mean, I've dreamed about this forever. Marrying Dean…I don't know. I just…want to be able to remember all of it." She frowned as her gaze traveled from the crowd in the middle of the Tric dance floor to the two lone figures that sat on the opposite side of the bar. "Well…almost all of it."
Jo and Ellen Harvelle had joined the festivities for the first few minutes of the celebration, but before too long had migrated to an isolated corner of the club, their trained hunter eyes watching the scene play out from their stools.
"What the hell is their problem?" Brooke asked, turning on her stool to lean towards Haley. "I mean, I get that they're technically like Dean's family, and that they all go way back, but they are like freaking wallflowers sitting over there. It is a bachelorette party, for crying out loud. As if people behave appropriately at those. Quit judging."
Haley chuckled as she looked at the couple in question, and she couldn't help but frown when she saw their intent expressions. She admitted it was odd that they stood so far behind the festivities, but she wouldn't call their expressions judgmental. They were watchful. Almost predatory. "Yeah," she said, turning back to Brooke as she shrugged. "They sure aren't the life of the party. I'll tell you who is though."
They both looked toward the dance floor where Shelley Simon was moving her hips in time with the music, laughing when Millie and Quinn—Haley's older sister who had become a bit of fixture in their lives since she moved back to Tree Hill—cheered her on in their drunken states.
Brooke laughed. "It's weird, right? Inviting her?"
"No," Haley said, shaking her head. "She and Mouth have pretty much been attached to the hip the last few weeks. And I liked Shelley, you know?"
"Yeah…you know, Dean a little suspicious of her."
Haley snorted. "Dean is suspicious of everyone. Remember a few months ago when he thought Chuck was a changeling after Jamie?"
Brooke laughed. "I know. I told him he was crazy. But you know Dean. He won't let it go. And, I hate to admit it, but I it does get me thinking. Do you think it's a little weird that she just…shows back up in Tree Hill, after nearly 7 years?"
"Weird like how? I mean, you showed back up here out of the blue, if you recall."
Nodding, she sighed. "Yeah, I know. I guess that one of the downsides to marrying a hunter, right? The constant suspicion."
"CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE?"
Brooke and Haley turned their stools to face the dance floor, their faces breaking into amused smiles when they saw Millie standing high on a chair, a shot glass raised in her hand as she pointed in their direction.
"Brooke Davis…is getting MARRIED!"
A round of cheers followed her announcement, and Brooke laughed as she covered her face with her hand, leaning in towards Haley. "She's making another speech."
Haley laughed, nodding as she clapped. "It's always the quiet ones."
"Now, I know that I haven't been around as long as some of you have," Millie continued, her eyes glassy even as she grinned. "But the last few years, I've gotten to work alongside Brooke, and feel so so soooo honored, to call her my friend. And in a few days, she is marrying Dean. You all have seen Dean right?" She rolled her eyes and waved her hand to indicate just how hot Dean was, a motion that left Brooke and Haley laughing. "Of course, I got the other brother. But, that is besides the point. The point! The point of this speech is just to say…Brooke. I love you. And I know that you and Dean are going to be very happy. And hot. Because, you know, you both are." She laughed, raising the shot glass high in the air as a tray was passed around the women standing around her, each of them taking one themselves. "TO BROOKE!"
"To Brooke," everyone seconded, and Brooke and Haley clinked their own glasses as they rolled their eyes.
The next few events seemed to happen in an instant. To most of the crowd, it was the alcohol playing tricks on their minds, but to the select few that had witnessed the true evil that existed in the world, it was all too chillingly real.
Shelley Simon threw back her shot just as the music roared to life again, so her inhumane scream was drowned out by the pounding in the speakers. The flashing strobe lights almost hid the steam that seemed to pour from her mouth and skin as she curled into herself, her blonde hair flying.
Brooke's glass fell to the floor in shatters as it slipped from her fingers, her eyes fixed on the figure of her former classmate even as she watched Jo and Ellen race over to her. They crowded around her, shuffling her away from the crowd as she writhed against their grips, whisking her into a back room.
"Did you just see that?" Haley demanded, reaching over and gripping Brooke's arm even as they both rose to their feet.
It was suddenly all clicking into place for Brooke. Shelley's face flashing with disdain briefly each time Dean was mentioned, her evasiveness, every little aspect that had piqued Dean's suspicion to begin in. "Oh, God, she couldn't come in the house," Brooke said.
"Brooke," Haley called out when her friend headed towards the hallway the two hunters had disappeared into moments ago. She cast a worried glance that the small crowd still engrossed in their dancing before she quickly followed, her heart racing in her chest as she realized they had absolutely nothing to protect themselves against the monster that had stolen Shelley's body. "Brooke!"
Brooke skidded to a stop as she threw open the door to the supply room, and she couldn't help but gape at the scene that laid behind the door.
Shelley—or the monster masquerading as Shelley Simon—was snarling at Jo as she stood frozen in the middle of the floor, the intricate Devil's Trap imprisoning her in the small area. Her face was red and blistered, her long blonde hair knotted and unkempt. Her once blue eyes were now a devastating shade of black. She screamed and flinched when Jo tossed a splash of water from the jug she held in her hands, the holy water burning into Shelley's skin.
"Suck it, bitch!" Jo shouted above the snarling.
"You knew," Brooke said, watching as the two hunters turned to look at her. Ellen moved towards her from her place against a shelf. "That's why you weren't drinking…you knew she was possessed."
"Brooke, sweetie," Ellen said, reaching out and taking her hand. "I'm sorry we didn't give you a heads up…but we need to get those girls out of here. Okay? Hey, Brooke!" She snapped her fingers in Brooke's face to pull her gaze away from the Trap. "Listen to me. I just called Dean and Sam. They're on their way now, but we HAVE to get your friends out of here, alright? I promise, we will explain everything, but right now, we need to get those people to safety. Make up some excuse. Say you're sick or the party is over, whatever you have to. Just get them out of here."
"I swear I will RIP you all to shreds!" Shelley screamed from her prison.
"NOW," Ellen finished.
"I've got it, Brooke," Haley said quietly behind her.
Brooke could hear Haley race back out to the front of the club and shut off the music, but she couldn't quite make out what excuse she used for cutting the party short. All she could focus on was Shelley, who now stood in the center of the Trap, her black eyes staring intently at her even as a smug, cruel smile spread across her face.
"She couldn't come in the house," Brooke said softly, leaning heavily against the door.
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"Look, you're wrong, okay?"
Dean looked in the rearview mirror, his stern eyes taking in the anger that appeared on Mouth's distraught face. He tightened his jaw, his hands clutching the steering wheel of the Impala until his knuckles were stark white.
He wanted to scream at Mouth; to tell him to start thinking with his upstairs brain and put all the missing puzzle pieces of Shelley Simon together until they made sense. But all he could think about was that demonic bitch being anywhere near Brooke…
And all he could see in his mind was Brooke and Nathan. Kissing, touching, moaning.
His mind was so mixed with anger, he could barely concentrate on the road ahead of him.
"Mouth," Sam said from his place in the passenger seat. "Look, I know that it's hard to hear. But Shelley—,"
"Is Shelley," Mouth reiterated. "She's Shelley Simon, a normal, beautiful girl who just lost her way and headed back to a place she knows is safe. She's not a demon, Sam! She's not possessed. Don't you think I would know if she were? We've been together nearly every second since she's been back to town."
"Think about those seconds, Mouth," Sam said calmly, always the rational of the two Winchester brothers, as he peered over at Dean's tense expression. "There wasn't anything—anything at all—that struck you as odd? Changes in behavior? Maybe she was a little too interested in how you all had been doing since high school? A fascination with Brooke? Fits of anger that couldn't be explained? Think, Mouth…I know that deep down…you know that something is terribly off about Shelley."
Mouth felt the indignant expression fading from his face as Sam spoke, his mind racing back to those few moments when he was so sure his mind was playing tricks on him. The flashes of anger that would appear in Shelley's eyes. Her odd fascination with Brooke and Dean and their relationship. How she made sure to never get too close to the front door of their house, almost as if she knew about those Demon's Traps that protected it.
"Oh, God," he said softly, falling back into his seat as he ran a hand through his hair, his heart sinking into his chest. "Oh, God, she was playing me the whole time."
Dean couldn't help the pang of grief he felt at the despair he heard in his friend's voice. He knew what it was like to be a pawn in some demon's grand scheme. Hell, it went with the territory of being a Winchester, he'd come to realize. But that didn't mean it didn't get any easier.
His eyes traveled to the rearview mirror, where the headlights of Nathan's Jeep followed closely behind him. He stared into them for a moment, almost willing that Nathan would be able to feel his heated gaze.
He knew he was being irrational. He knew that, as Nathan had said, it was nearly a decade ago, between two overly intoxicated teenagers were more lost than they were found. It was a meaningless act, a stupid stunt between two friends. It was really nothing.
Now if only he could convince himself of that.
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Sam's eyes settled on Millie as soon as he entered Tric. His girlfriend was perched on a barstool, her hands wrapped around a large glass of water. Her mascara streaked face was staring blankly at the bar in front of her, her dark hair a mess as it curled around her face.
Until this point, Sam had been able to keep Millie away from the more supernatural aspects of his profession. And it was for this very reason: he hadn't wanted to see the hope and joy disappear from her. He hadn't wanted her to see just what evil truly lurked outside her front door.
"Millie!"
Her head turned at the sound of her name, and Sam saw her lips quiver as she rose from her seat and raced over to meet him, throwing her arms around his broad shoulders as she burrowed her face in his chest. Sam's arms wrapped around her small frame, his voice whispering soothing words into her ear.
He heard Dean come up behind him, and he pulled away from Millie when Dean snaked his arm out to gently pat her back. "Millie," he said softly, leaning down so he could meet her eyes. "I know you're freaking out right now, but we really need you to be calm, ok?" He waited until she nodded, her hands coming up to wipe at the tears that were welling in her eyes. "Ok…where are they? Where's Brooke?"
Millie sniffled and pointed towards the hallway in the back in the club.
Dean was headed that way before she had even lowered her arm, Sam and Bobby on his heels after a quiet word to Millicent. Dean's heart was racing a mile a minute with every step he took until he rounded the corner and saw Brooke sitting on the floor outside the storeroom. He could feel the relief coming off of himself in waves when he saw her unharmed, but as soon as she raised her head a the sound of his entrance, he knew that "unharmed" might not be the best term to describe his fiancée.
He walked to her, crouching down in front of her as his hands reached out to cradle her face. Even completely devastated, it never failed to surprise him at just how beautiful Brooke Davis was. Her eyes were red from her time crying, the makeup around her eyes smudged. Her hair hung in tangles around her face, and he had to fight the urge to smile that the pink feathers that haloed her head. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he searched her hazel eyes.
Brooke took a deep breath, her eyes darting to the closed door beside her before coming back to look at him. "She's been possessed this whole time, hasn't she?" she implored softly, her voice a soft whisper in the hallway. "There was no…wanting to reconnect with any of us."
Dean shook his head slowly. "No, baby, there wasn't."
She scoffed, shaking her head. "I guess I should trust your instincts more often, huh?" she asked, smiling slightly when Dean's lips twitched. "What does she want, Dean? Who is she?"
"That's what we're going to find out," Dean replied, leaning forward and catching her lips in a chaste kiss before he pulled her to her feet. "I want you to go out there with Millie and Haley."
"No."
Dean glared at her, already shaking her head. "Brooke, you're not fighting me on this."
"Really? Because I think that's just what I'm doing." She crossed her arms over her chest even as Dean put his hands on his hips, his trademark move when he was prepared to put up a fight. "Dean, I'm serious. The…thing in there that's taken control of Shelley has been casing us for weeks. You cannot stand there and tell me that it has nothing to with me, Dean. Why else would she have chosen Shelley?" She watched as Dean's expression slowly changed from resistance to resignation.
"You're going to stand in the back, and not say a thing. Do you understand me?" She gave a quick nod, letting out a long pent up breath, and Dean sighed, shaking his head as he looked over his shoulder. Sam and Bobby stood behind them, their arms laden with holy water, salt, and shotguns. "Alright."
Brooke let them lead the way into the storeroom, her eyes instantly landing on the woman—no, the thing—that stood, pacing, in the Devil's Trap. Shelley's hair was in disarray, her once flawless face blistered from the constant onslaught of holy water that had been delivered courtesy of Jo, Brooke was sure. Once the door opened, Shelley stopped pacing, her lips turning up into a cruel smirk as she held her arms out at her sides, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, it's about time," she proclaimed. "Who knew the Winchesters could be such dilly dallies?"
Dean was silent as he stalked towards her, his handsome face set in an almost terrifying glare. This monster had gotten far too close to his family. His friends, his brother, the woman he loved…there was nothing about this woman that could possibly elicit any sympathy from him. "Who are you?" he demanded, coming to a stop just outside the Trap.
Shelley grinned, tilting her head to the side. "Shelley Simon, of course," she taunted, her blue eyes alight with just how much enjoyment she was having.
Brooke flinched when Jo stepped forward then, her arm jutting out to quickly douse Shelley with a splash of holy water from her canteen. Shelley's unearthly howl reverberated through the room.
"THAT was the last time, you bitch!" Shelley roared, lunging towards Jo only to be propelled backwards thanks to her prison.
"I think we'll be the judge of that," Dean said, reaching out and taking the canteen from Jo. "You're running out of chances here. Either you're going to tell me who the hell you are and what the hell you want, or I'm gonna douse you with so much holy water, you'll look like Kreuger for the rest of your life." His eyes snapped up when he saw Shelley peer around him, her blue eyes settling on Brooke in a fascination that sent a chill down his spine. "Hey! Don't look at her! Look at me! Who the hell are you?"
Shelley smirked, pulling her eyes away and looking at him. "Sonja."
"Sonja?"
"That's what I said, Winchester."
"Alright, so one down. What do you want?" Her smirk stayed in place, and Dean clenched his fingers around the canteen in his hands, fighting to impulse to toss it on her amused face. "Why are you here? Who sent you?"
"Someone who just wants to claim back what's his." Shelley—no, Sonja, said. Shelley Simon would never look at someone with that much hatred. "Something he's kept a close eye on for decades and has gotten tired of waiting."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded, taking a step towards the Trap. "Quit skirting around the subject, bitch, and give me a straight answer. What do you want?"
Sonja merely crossed her arms over her chest, her pale face spreading into an all-knowing smirk as she tilted her head, letting her eyes graze past him and over to the silent brunette that stood against the wall, her face a mask of confusion as she tried to follow the conversation.
Dean felt his stomach sink, and he could swear his heart actually stopped in his chest. "You're here for her," he managed around gritted teeth, using every ounce of his strength to keep his anger at bay.
"What do we have for him, Johnny?" Sonja mocked, her face serene even as she kept her eyes solely locked on Brooke's shocked face.
"Haven't you ever wondered why you never really felt like you belonged around here, Brooke?"
Brooke's eyes raised to meet hers at her words, and she could hear Bobby's feet shuffling towards her in protection. "Excuse me?"
"Brooke, don't talk to her," Dean ordered, recognizing the trembling he heard in her voice.
"You've always been different. Never really felt like everybody else. Always wondering, 'What's so different about me?'"
"What are you getting at?" Brooke demanded, wrapping her arms around herself as she realized that everything she was saying was true.
"Brooke," Dean warned again, glancing over his shoulder at her worriedly. The last thing he wanted was for her to engage this monster.
"Didn't you ever wonder why Daddy didn't give a damn about you growing up, Brooke?" Sonja mocked, shrugging her petite shoulders. "Why he always looked at you like he had no idea how the hell you even came to be?" She tilted her head, smiling when she saw Brooke's face falter. "It's because you're not his."
"What?" Brooke rasped out, taking a small step forward as the three hunters turned their heads to stare at the demon trapped before them.
Sonja merely shrugged, her lips quirked up into a cruel smirk.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked, exchanging a concerned glance with his brother.
"Oh, sure, it was your Daddy's body doing all the work," Sonja said, pacing the confines of her small prison, talking as if she were merely discussing the weather, a motion that sent chills down Brooke's spine. "But who was INSIDE that body…that's an entirely different matter." She stopped pacing, and stood to face the brunette who had slowly moved to stand next to her fiancée. "You, my dear Brooke Davis…are not completely human. On the contrary, you have some highly powerful demon blood coursing through those pretty little veins of yours."
Brooke froze, her hazel eyes wide in fear and bewilderment, shaking her head back and forth as she brought a hand up to her throat. "You're lying."
"Really? Can you really be so sure of that?"
"That's enough," Sam interjected, as he took a step forward and tried to shield Brooke with his body, but her hand on his arm defeated his intent as she stepped around him. He couldn't help but be concerned by the confused expression on his future sister-in-law's face. A mixture of fear, disbelief, and—perhaps the most startling—realization.
"Who the hell are you?" Brooke demanded, racing up the edge of the Devil's Trap. She skidded to a stop when Dean's arm shot out and snaked around her waist, holding her in place.
"Like I said: I'm just the messenger."
"Messenger for who?" Dean asked, his arm tightening around Brooke's waist when he felt her tremble under his touch. He had to get her out of here…but he needed all the information.
A cruel teasing smile appeared on Sonja's face then, as her eyes met his. "You have every reason to be terrified, Dean…with as many of our family that you've sent back to Hell? Daddy Dearest has special plans for your demise. And it will be slow. And painful. And I'll be glad to just sit back and watch."
"The only thing you're going to be watching is the earth flying back on your way back to Hell you, bitch," Dean growled, feeling the woman next to him crumbling in his arms. He wrapped his other arm protectively around her as he turned them away, glancing at his brother. "Take care of her for me," he said, cradling Brooke against his side as he rushed them to the door. "And make it hurt."
"My pleasure," Sam said, his gaze dark as he slowly stalked towards the monster in front of him, his eyes watching her angry, panicked face when Bobby's deep voice started to reverberate through the room in Latin.
But despite the pleasure he got from watching another demon return to their rightful place, it couldn't stop the feeling of enormous dread that was welling in Sam's gut.
Something huge was coming.
And he honestly wasn't sure if they could stop it.
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Oh, dear…how long has it been? I'm the worst ever! Thank you guys so much for sticking in with me! I hope this chapter meets your approval. What do you think? R&R and let me know!
