**Hey, guys! So I'm trying to update more frequently (I know I haven't really kept up with this lately and I'm sorry about that). This chapter is the longest chapter I've ever written (hope that makes up for the last couple chapters that have been shorter than usual)! I'm excited for you guys to read this and tell me what you think of it! This is one of my favorite supernatural episodes, so I really hope I made it even better! Please review or PM me any ideas or thoughts you have on it! I really do love reading them and seeing what you guys think of my story! Thanks again!**
Croatoan
"What?" I wasn't even sure Dean heard the barely whispered word. "What?" That one came out louder as the news Dean had just told me began to register. "What the hell are you talking about?" The words began tumbling out of my mouth faster and faster. "What are you supposed to protect me from?"
"I don't know! He didn't say-" Dean began, but I cut him off.
"Did John say anything else?" I questioned, my mind already miles ahead of my mouth. I was so distracted by the thoughts racing through my head that I barely heard Dean's reply.
"No, he said I needed to protect you and Sam - save you-" He explained, his voice raising slightly as mine did.
"Save us? He said save?" I asked, suddenly that was the most important question in the world to me.
"Yeah, he said if I couldn't save you, I'd have to…" His eyes flicked away from my face, and a sudden rage coursed through me.
"How could you not tell me that?" A small part of me knew I was being hypocritical; Dean wasn't the only one with a secret that John had told them that they hadn't shared. A bigger part of me felt furious that he would keep something so important from me. "Dean!" I snapped when he didn't answer.
"What do you want me to say?" His voice raised to an angry yell.
"Am I going to turn evil?" I asked the question that seemed to hang in the air between us.
"No!" He objected instantly. "No, look we just have to lay low for a little while-"
"Lay low?" I echoed incredulously. "We should be figuring out what's going on here!"
"Yeah, and how do you think we should do that?" Dean shot back heatedly.
"Well, find the demon, for one thing!" I couldn't believe that Dean thought we should do nothing.
"With what leads?" He made a fair point, and I opened my mouth to respond when there was a sharp cry from down the hall. Dean and I both froze at the familiar noise. It was Sammy's cry. I was out the door in a heartbeat with Dean close behind me. Thankfully, Sammy always gave either me or Dean the spare key to his room, so it only took a moment to get the door open. I stopped short as soon as I entered and saw Sammy on the floor between the twin beds. He sat up quickly, breathing heavily and clearly sweating and shaking.
"Sam?" Dean had paused beside me and know called to his brother in a concerned voice.
"We have to go," Was all the information he told us before he stood and began zipping up his duffel.
"Continue on OR-224 west," The navigation spoke in a female voice, directing us towards Rivergrove, Oregon. I sat silently in the back, still reeling from the account Sam had given us of the vision he'd had.
"There are only two towns in the U.S. named Rivergrove," Sam explained to us, having plugged in the town into the GPS without really stopping to elaborate on what he was doing.
"And you're sure it's the one in Oregon?" I checked, not really feeling like getting to Oregon only to realize it was in Illinois. The two states weren't exactly neighbors.
"There was a picture, Crater lake" He stated, glancing down at the device in his hands.
"Okay, what else?" Dean asked, making Sam shift uncomfortably.
"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair," Sam's voice sounded was void of any emotion as he related the events of his vision to Dean and I.
"And I ventilated him?" Dean prompted when Sam didn't speak further.
"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him," Sam remembered, and I bit the inside of my cheek in thought.
"Like a demon?" I questioned; there had to be an explanation for why Dean had shot an unarmed man at point blank range.
"I don't know," Sam replied truthfully.
"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the yellow-eyed demon, so was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise him?" Dean went through the usual list.
"No. Nothing," Sam answered, shaking his head.
"So Dean just walked into the room and plugged him?" Even as I asked the question, I knew that couldn't be all there was to this.
"Yeah," Sam sounded as if he could barely believe it as well.
"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason," Dean spoke confidently, keeping his eyes on the road.
"I sure hope so," I frowned at Sam's dejected tone.
"What does that mean?" Dean asked, his voice starting to sound slightly accusing and suspicious. Sam didn't reply, instead choosing to look down at the GPS.
"Sam, Dean's not just going to waste an innocent person," I backed Dean up, giving Sam a look. Sam still didn't reply.
"I wouldn't," Dean agreed forcefully, taking his silence as a sign of uncertainty.
"I never said you would," Sam finally defended himself.
"Fine," Dean snapped, turning back to the road.
"Fine," Sam replied, his voice still sounding defensive.
"Look, we don't know what this is, but whatever's happening, the guy Sam saw is a part of it. We should find him and see what's going on," I interrupted them, not in the mood for a fight right now.
"Fine," Dean agreed reluctantly.
"Fine," Sam seconded in a somewhat relieved tone. I spent the rest of the car ride leaning against the door with my legs thrown over the vacant backseats, trying to sleep.
"200 bucks. Not bad, right?" Dean grinned at me, and I couldn't help but laugh a bit.
"Yeah, too bad it won't buy you an A in history," Dean made a face at my tease that made me laugh again as I shrugged on my jacket, getting ready to leave the bar.
"Well, maybe I misplaced your cut of the profits," My eyes widened in mock shock and horror.
"You wouldn't…" I began as I made a grab for the money Dean held up. He grinned as he adjusted his arm so the money was just out of my reach, making him laugh.
"Hey!" The man we'd been playing called from across the pool table before Dean could reply to me. We both glanced up at him, and my eyes narrowed slightly as I detected the malice in his gaze.
"Not leaving already, are you?" Dean and I glanced at each other briefly before returning our gazes to the man. "One more game. Double or nothing,"
"Alright," My eyes snapped to Dean's face as they widened with real surprise this time. Dean started towards the table, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him misstep.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him as he reached over to put the money on the edge of the pool table.
"Relax. I know what I'm doing, Mel," Reluctantly, I released my hold on his jacket, and he picked up the stick that he'd been using. "You break," He offered the man, gesturing to the table grandly. The man sunk a ball with the break and then proceeded to shoot another one before he missed. Dean shot two before the man shot another one. The game continued like that until finally it was the man's turn with just the eight ball left on the table. I took a calming breath, trying to ignore how much was riding on this shot. If we lost that money, we'd be screwed. John had only left us that fifty dollars for three days worth of meals for three kids. That should be more than enough for what we usually bought. If we lost this money, we'd have nothing to pay for meals. Basically, we'd starve. The man made the shot.
"Tough luck, kid," His tone didn't hold one trace of sympathy for us as he counted the two hundred dollars he'd just earned. I mentally cursed and kicked myself for not having stopped the bet. Dean snatched his jacket off the chair, threw it on, and headed for the door. I grabbed mine and followed him, having no choice.
"Dean," I pulled the jacket tightly around me as I realized how cold the night had gotten. "Dean!" I snapped, grabbing his arm and spinning him to face me.
"I'm sorry!" He exploded, making me take a step back in surprise. "I'm sorry, alright?" He continued, quieter now as he regarded his feet without meeting my eyes. "I thought I could win. I didn't think…"
"It's fine, okay? We'll just tell John-" I began.
"No!" Dean interrupted me quickly, making me sigh heavily. I understood why he didn't tell John. Hell, both of our parents would rain hell down upon us if they knew how we'd lost the money.
"Then I can ask a friend to borrow some money or something," Even as I said it, I knew that was feeble.
"What friend? We got here this morning," Which meant we didn't have any food. Sammy would be starving when we got back, and we didn't have any food or money.
"I don't know. We'll figure something out. We always do, right?" I bounced on the balls of my feet, pulling the jacket still tighter around my frame. Then, I saw Dean get a look in his eyes. A look that I knew all too well. A look that meant trouble.
"Go back to the motel. Take care of Sammy till I get back," He instructed, and I rolled my eyes. As if I was really going to follow those ominous instructions.
"Forget it," Dean opened his mouth to argue, but I crossed my arms over my chest and continued before he could get a word in. "Whatever crazy thing you've got planned, I'm going with you. Don't bother arguing," Instead of arguing, he grinned, and I was suddenly struck by how green his eyes were.
"Thanks, Mel," My heart fluttered, but I suppressed it harshly. I was like a younger sister to him. That's all I was. And he was like my brother. We were family. I couldn't have feelings for him. Right? I followed him across the street to the supermarket, and I frowned in confusion as we walked in. We didn't have any money, so how would we… Oh.
"Dean, you cannot be serious," I hissed, making sure to keep my voice low enough for no one to overhear me. He ignored me, grabbing a can of microwavable spaghetti from the shelf.
"Trust me. I have a plan," I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I had been trusting Dean practically since we learned to walk, but that didn't mean I was going to discard reason and just go along with it. "Do you have a better idea?" He questioned before I could protest again. I didn't, in fact, have a better plan. I picked up a box of lucky charms and followed him without further objections. We found a bag to place all of the food into, and I took another deep breath as we approached the exit doors. As soon as we were out, the alarms started blaring. We ran.
"Stop them! They're stealing!" Two officers were on our tail in an instant.
"Was this part of the plan?" I asked sarcastically as we bolted down Johnson street, making a sharp left down an alley.
"I was hoping the alarms wouldn't go off," Dean confessed, grinning at me when I glanced sideways at him.
"We can't lead them back to the motel," I reasoned, and I knew Dean was with me on that point. We made a right into another alley, but stopped short when we came to the gate at the end.
"Go!" I snapped at him. "I'll pass the food up to you. You're stronger," I reasoned, and Dean hesitated a split second before nodding and climbing to the top of the fence. I began handing up the first of the two bags of food we'd stolen.
"There they are!" I was shrouded in a bright white light as the cops reached the beginning of the alleyway. I passed up the second bag of food quickly, knowing I didn't have much time.
"Mel, hurry!" I could hear the fear and worry in his voice as my adrenaline spiked, making me think faster.
"Dean, go," I told him, suddenly sure about my decision.
"Are you crazy? No!" He objected, making me look up at his dark silhouette at the top of the fence.
"Someone needs to take care of Sammy, right? Tell John what happened. He'll get me out. It'll be fine," I reasoned logically, knowing that they couldn't really hold me since I was so young. The police were on me, and Dean went over the fence, backing up into the shadows of the other side. I held his gaze as the police handcuffed me and forced me backwards.
"Mel," I jerked awake, disoriented for a moment before I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I glanced up to see Sam looking back at me. I blinked groggily, sitting up and looking out the window to see we'd arrived in Rivergrove, Oregon. "Hey, he was there," I followed Sam's pointing finger to see an older, dark-skinned man sitting in front of a fishing store, cleaning his rod. I raked my fingers through my hair, hoping it wasn't too messed up before I got out and headed across the street with Sam and Dean.
"Morning," Dean greeted the man, who looked up curiously at us.
"Morning. Can I help you?" He asked, returning his attention to the fishing rod in his hands.
"Yeah, I'm Natasha Wakeford," I introduced myself, reaching into my jacket for my badge. "This is Frank Beard and Billy Gibbons," I continued, pointing to Sam and Dean respectively. "U.S. Marshals," We held out our badges to him.
"Don't you guys usually travel in pairs?" He questioned, and I smiled slightly, having this cover story down to a science.
"They're partners. I'm monitoring them to see how well they do their job," Sam explained, and the man accepted it.
"So what's this about?" He got down to the real reason we were here.
"We're looking for someone," Dean informed him.
"A young man, early twenties? He'd have a thin scar right below his hairline," Sam pointed on his own forehead and I caught the look of recognition on the older man's face before Sam dropped his hand.
"What did he do?" The man inquired suspiciously.
"Nothing," I answered promptly, sensing that the man was close to the kid. "We're really looking for someone else, but we think this kid can help find him."
"He's not in any kind of trouble or anything. Not yet," Dean added, and the man nodded, his eyes still unconvinced. "I think maybe you know who he is, master sergeant," I glanced at Dean in surprise until my eyes dropped to the ink on the man's left forearm. "My dad was in the corps. He was a corporal,"
"What company?" The man asked, his eyes suddenly interested.
"Echo-2-1," Dean responded proudly.
"So, do you know him?" I interrupted them, eager to get on with this case. Something about this town didn't feel right to me, and I couldn't wait to put it in our rearview mirror.
"Duane Tanner's got a scar like that, but I know him. Good kid. Keeps his nose clean," The man instantly defended the young man we were looking for.
"Oh, I'm sure he does. Do you know where he lives?" Dean questioned, trying to reassure him that the kid was in no trouble.
"With his family. Up Aspen Way," He pointed up the street, and Dean thanked him before we left. We crossed the street and began heading up the street when I felt something cold to my right. I didn't quite know how to describe it. It was like how a radiator gives off heat, it emanated a coldness that made me shiver and turn to look at it.
"Hey," I caught Sam's arm, making him stop as well to look at it. There, carved into the wood of the pole, was the word CROATOAN. Sam walked closer to it while I stayed back, something about it making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"Croatoan?" Dean read, frowning in confusion.
"Roanoke. Lost colony. Ring a bell?" Sam tried in vain to jog Dean's memory. "Dean, did you pay any attention to history class?" Sam asked frustratedly.
"Yeah. The shot heard around the world. How bills become laws," Dean began listing general ideas, but I could hardly hear him. My eyes were still glued to the word carved in the wood.
"That's not school, that's 'Schoolhouse Rock'," Sam told him, exasperated as Dean thought for a moment before shrugging unconcernedly.
"Whatever," I finally snapped myself out of whatever daze I'd been in.
"Roanoke was among the first English colonies in North America. It was built in the late 1500s," I started, knowing that Dean's memory would eventually catch on.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree," Dean recalled, and I wrapped my arms around myself, looking anywhere but the pole.
"Yeah, and there were theories - Indian raid, disease - but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone, wiped out overnight," Sam finished the explanation, making me glance around at the people passing us on the sidewalk.
"You don't think that's what's going on here. I mean…" Dean trailed off as he glanced at me.
"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good, but what do you think could do that?" Suddenly, I remembered something that had came up earlier.
"Whatever it is, I bet it's tied to the yellow-eyed demon somehow," The boys both looked at me, but I was focused on the word again. With an effort, I yanked my eyes away from it and to Sam. "We need help," Sam nodded in agreement with me.' "Yeah, Bobby. Ellen, maybe," I pulled out my phone as Dean pulled out his.
"That's a good idea," I frowned at my phone as I got the no signal sign. I walked a short distance down the sidewalk but still nothing. "I don't have a signal," Dean announced.
"Me neither," I added, coming to stand beside him and Sam, who pulled out his phone as well but shook his head. My eyes scanned our surroundings quickly, and I got an idea, picking up the pay phone. Nothing. Not even a dial tone. "The line's dead," I shook my head, hanging up.
"I'll tell you one thing - if I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step," Dean told us, and I couldn't help but agree with him. It was all I could do not to suggest getting in the car and leaving then and there.
The drive out to Duane's house was spent in silence, which meant my mind drifted back to last night - or rather this morning. John had told Dean he might have to kill me. No matter how hard I'd tried to avoid that fact, it bounced around in my head, not letting me have any peace. Was I supposed to turn evil? What would happen if I did? What if I became a monster? Became something like what we hunted. What if I began killing people? What if I killed Dean? I quickly ripped myself out of my thoughts and into the present. I couldn't afford to think like that. I had to focus on the hunt. We pulled up in front of the Tanner house and got out, walking up to the front door and knocking. A kid, who couldn't have been older than eighteen, answered a moment later.
"Yeah?" He questioned, sounding a bit annoyed. I took a step away from him, instinctively not trusting him. Something was very wrong.
"Hi, looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?" The boy nodded at Dean's words.
"He's my brother," The boy stated. His face was a mask of calm and mildly curious, but somehow it looked foreign.
"We need to talk to him," I found my voice, and the boy glanced at me, frowning for a moment as if I was something he'd never seen before.
"He's not here right now," The boy spoke in that same calm voice.
"Do you know where he is?" I could tell Dean was beginning to get a little suspicious as well.
"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake," The boy informed us without even blinking, seemingly unconcerned by the that there were federal agents at his door asking about his brother.
"Your parents home?" Sam questioned.
"Yeah, they're inside," Funny enough, I could only hear one other pair of footsteps inside.
"Jake, who is it?" A man's voice called moments before an older man, that I assumed was Jake's dad, came to stand beside him.
"Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir. We're searching for your son, Duane," I informed him, trying hard to ignore the chill I got when his father appeared.
"Why? He's not in trouble, is he?" His father asked, but the concern sounded forced.
"We just need to ask him a couple routine questions," Dean assured him.
"Can you tell us when he's due back?" I asked, still working to stifle the urge to either run or empty a clip into both the father and the son. Was this what John was talking about?
"I'm not sure," He confessed.
"Well, maybe your wife knows," Sam suggested, and I could tell that Sam thought something was off as well.
"No, I don't know. She's not here right now," The man glanced back into the house, and I heard an very faint scuffling noise from inside. I frowned as I studied the brother's face.
"Well, your son said she was," Dean pointed out.
"Did I?" The boy asked, looking up with an all too innocent expression that made me even more suspicious of them.
"She's getting groceries," The man explained, putting a hand on his son's back. "So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get ahold of you?"
"No, that's alright. We'll just come back later," I told them with a big, false smile before turning with Sam and Dean. I waited until I heard the door shut to hurry down the steps begin walking around the house quickly.
"Mel!" Dean hissed as he and Sam followed hurriedly.
"Something wasn't right about them," Was all the explanation I gave as I crouched to go past a window so they wouldn't see me. I didn't have to look back to know Sam and Dean were going to back me up. I focused on listening in on what was going on inside the house.
"It's okay, mom," I heard the boy's voice and then feminine whimpering. "It's not gonna hurt," I reached the window, and my eyes widened as I saw the father cut the boy's forearm and hold it above the tied up and beaten woman. I hissed in pain as a nail jutting out from the wall I'd been leaning on sunk into the skin of my shoulder. I flinched back but ignored it, drawing my gun instead and nodding to Dean, who kicked the door open. The older man screamed and lunged at us, earning himself a bullet in the chest from Dean's gun while I fixed mine on the younger boy, who was making a break for the window. I took a shot, and he yelled in pain as it hit his arm, but it didn't stop him from leaping out the window. Sam ran to the broken window while I knelt by the woman, who was crying now.
"You're okay," I reassured her as I undid her gag and untied her hands. She gripped her bleeding upper arm before letting go, looking at the blood as if it were acid.
"Thank you," She mumbled, grabbing me by the shoulders as I worked on her undoing the ropes binding her feet. I winced as she grabbed my already bleeding shoulder in her bloody hand. She released it quickly, muttering apologies, but I waved them away.
"We're going to get you to a doctor, okay?" I helped her up and to the car with Sam and Dean following. She sat between Dean and I as Sam rode in the back all the way to the local doctor's office, which turned out not to be all that big. Sam and I helped her into the office while Dean grabbed the body of Mr. Tanner from the trunk.
"Hello? Hello? We need a doctor here," Sam called out, hoping someone was there. A young, blonde woman came rushing out the door towards us.
"Mrs. Tanner, what happened?" She questioned hurriedly.
"She was attacked," I explained shortly, not having the time for lengthy explanations.
"Dr. Lee?" The woman called, glancing backwards at the door. Another blonde woman, this one older and dressed in a white lab coat came rushing to help us. Mrs. Tanner began to weep softly and Sam and I awkwardly tried to comfort her.
"Bring her in," Dr. Lee requested, moving back the way she'd come. Sam, the assistant, and Mrs. Tanner went into one of the rooms while I waited for Dean to come, which didn't take long.
"Is that…" Dr. Lee began, looking with wide eyes at the body Dean had draped over his shoulders.
"Mr. Tanner," I finished for her.
"Was he attacked too?" She asked, her wide eyes flicking back and forth between Dean and I at an alarming rate.
"Uh, no, actually, he did the attacking, and then he got himself shot," Dean explained unfeelingly.
"Shot?" Dr. Lee echoed uncomprehendingly.
"Yeah, he attacked. We had no choice," I added to the explanation, making her turn her eyes on me.
"And who are you people?" I flipped out my badge, showing it to her.
"U.S. marshals," I stowed the badge back in my jean pocket and nodded to the corpse Dean was carrying. "Do you have an empty room maybe?"
"Oh, sorry. Of course, bring him back here," I followed Dr. Lee and Dean through the door, but opted to duck into the room that Sam, Mrs. Tanner, and the assistant were in.
"Hey," I dropped my voice to a low whisper so as not to startle anyone.
"Hey," Sam glanced at me, and his eyes dropped to my shoulder, widening slightly. "You're hurt," I glanced down at my now bloody shoulder in surprise. With everything that had happened, I'd forgot I'd injured it, but apparently it had been a bit worse than I'd originally thought. "Here, they have some hydrogen peroxide," He took it down from the shelf and poured it onto a folded paper towel. "Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit," He grinned, and I suppressed a small smile.
"Liar," I muttered causing him to laugh slightly as he pressed it on, and I bit my lip to hold in a hiss of pain. I was convinced that no matter how many times I was thrown, punched, kicked, knocked out, or cut I'd always think hydrogen peroxide stung like hell. He took the paper towel off after awhile and wrapped the cut with bandages he'd found.
"You okay?" I glanced up to see Dean had joined us, as had Dr. Lee.
"Yeah, fine," I shrugged as Sammy finished and gave me my arm back. I focused my attention on Dr. Lee and Mrs. Tanner's conversation.
"Wait, you said Jake helped him?" Dr. Lee questioned in disbelief. "Your son Jake?" Mrs. Tanner nodded, looking devastated.
"They beat me," She remembered, a distant look in her eyes. "Tied me up," She continued, this time looking at Dr. Lee as if searching for answers.
"I don't believe it," The younger blonde stated from the corner. I barely glanced at her, but I was suddenly filled with that same cold, weird feeling I had when I'd talked to the Tanners.
"Pam," Dr. Lee held out a hand to quiet her assistant, her eyes never leaving Mrs. Tanner's face. "Beverly, do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?" She questioned, trying to be logical. There was nothing logical about what was happening.
"No, of course not," She spoke quietly. "I don't know why," She sniffled, beginning to cry again. "One minute, they were my husband and my son, and the next they had the devil in them,"
"We've got to talk," Dean whispered lowly enough where the others couldn't here. Sam and I followed him until we were a safe distance away from the room we'd left. "Those guys were whacked out of their gourds," Dean stated the obvious.
"What do you think?" Sam asked as we came to a stop.
"It could be a mass possession, but I don't think so," I mused, glancing back at the room we'd came from.
"If it is, there could be more. I mean, God knows how many. It could be like a freaking shriner convention," Dean made a frightening point.
"Wonderful," I muttered. That was exactly what we needed.
"Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town. You take it from the inside," Dean pointed out, and I had to admit that did make sense. I'd have agreed with him if it wasn't for the twisting feeling in my stomach that told me it was something else. Something even more terrifying.
"I don't think it's a possession. We didn't see any smoke. Not to mention the fact that shooting killed it," I made valid arguments. We hadn't seen any of the usual signs with either of the Tanners.
"Well, something turned him into a monster," Dean walked a short distance away before turning back to face Sam. "You know, if you would have taken out the other one, there would be one less to worry about,"
"I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean. It was a kid," Sam's jaw tightened as he turned to face his brother, telling me that he was ready for a fight.
"No, it was an 'it'. It's not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam," Dean spoke about the kid as if it were a thing.
"Dean's right, Sam," Sam's eyes turned to rest on me, widening fractionally in surprise, but I had turned to look at Dean as I spoke my next words. "If something's evil, you shoot it. No questions," Dean's eyes lost their anger suddenly, and he opened his mouth to reply when a voice from behind him interrupted.
"I bandaged her arm," The three of us turned to see Dr. Lee standing there.
"How is she?" I asked, trying to sound optimistic.
"Terrible. What the hell happened out there?" She snapped with an anger that I knew wasn't directed at us.
"We don't know," Dean answered truthfully.
"Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor," She continued, her furious tone never wavering.
"We didn't have a choice," Dean protested.
"Maybe so, but we need the county sheriff. I need the coroner," She began listing, but I cut her off before she could get very far.
"The phones are dead," I informed her, and she nodded brusquely.
"I know. I tried. Tell me you've got a police radio in the car," She practically begged us for good news, but there was none to give.
"Yeah, we do, but it crapped out just like everything else," Sam made up. We most definitely did not have a police radio; though, if we did, it most likely would be just static.
"I don't understand what is happening," She muttered, looking around as if the room held her answer.
"How far is it to the next town?" Dean questioned, none of us bothering to try to comfort her.
"It's about 40 miles down to Sidewinder," She informed us quickly.
"Alright. I'm gonna go down there and see if I can find some help," Dean stated, taking charge of the situation.
"I'll go with you," He searched my face for a second before nodding, and I couldn't help but be slightly surprised he'd given in so easily. Ever since John's… Well, for a while now he's been trying to keep me as far away from danger as possible.
"My partner will stick around and keep you guys safe," Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder before heading towards the door.
"Safe from what?" The doctor asked the question that everyone needed the answer to.
"We'll get back to you on that," Dean told her, not bothering with a lie.
"Be careful," I whispered softly to Sam, grabbing his arm briefly.
"You too," He returned before I headed out the door and slid into the passenger's seat beside Dean, who gunned the engine and drove down the road toward Sidewinder.
"Did you mean that?" I glanced at Dean, not understanding the question for a moment. "What you said… about evil," Oh. I dropped my gaze to my hands, not answering for a moment.
"Yeah," I nodded finally. "Dean, if I become evil-"
"You are not becoming evil, alright?" He insisted instantly.
"Then why would John tell you to kill me?" I asked the question that had been bouncing around in my head all day.
"He didn't," I turned my eyes to Dean with a frown. "He said if I couldn't save you. I'm going to save you, Mel," He met my eyes with so much determination, love, and assurance that I believed him. "I promise," I smiled slightly, glancing out the windshield.
"Dean!" I cried as I caught sight of the parked car that was directly in front of us. Dean slammed on the breaks, wrapping a secure arm around my waist. I grabbed both shotguns from the back, handing Dean one before I cocked one and got out of the car. I frowned as I approached the car from the opposite side as Dean. There was blood everywhere. Too much to come from one human.
"Hey," Dean's hiss captured my attention, and I walked around the car to see what he was picking up off the ground. It was a knife. An extremely bloody knife. Dean glanced up and down the road, but there was no one in sight.
"We should keep moving. Stopping makes us an easier target," I pointed out as Dean wrapped the knife in a cloth and followed me back to the car.
"Yeah, but an easier target for what?" That was the question that kept popping up. We only drove for a minute more before we came to a roadblock made up of three cars and six men with shotguns. Dean slowed to a stop a few yards in front of them. I slid the two shotguns we had to the ground beneath my feet so they were out of sight of the men.
"That can't be good," I muttered, glancing at Dean, who opened his mouth to reply when there was a bang on the roof of the car, making us both nearly jump out of our skins. I turned to my left to see a man leaning in the driver's window.
"Hey," Dean let out a startled chuckle as he greeted the man.
"Sorry. Road's closed," The man jerked his chin to the men blocking the road. I could make out the familiar figure of the Tanner kid in the center, leading me to believe they were all insane.
"Yeah, I can see that. What's up?" As I looked back at the man I realized that I was getting the same feeling from him as I got from the Tanner boy and his father. He was possessed or a demon or whatever the hell was making the people go insane.
"Quarantine," The man answered confidently.
"A quarantine?" I echoed, my voice sounding surprised as I slipped my hand into Dean's. "Why? What's out there?" I asked as I dug my nails into Dean's skin, not hard enough to really hurt, but just hard enough for him to get the message. They were all crazy. I was sure of it. They were all like the Tanner boy.
"Don't know," The man looked up at the people blocking the road. "Something going around out there,"
"Uh-huh. Who told you that?" Dean was stalling. I reached down with the hand that wasn't in Dean's to grab the handle of one of the shotguns in case I needed it, which I felt I would.
"County Sheriff," The man seemed to have all the answers ready for us.
"Is he here?" Dean questioned, but the guy shook his head.
"No. He called," Well, that's pretty impressive considering the phones are down. "Say, why don't you two get out of the car, and we'll talk a little?"
"Well, you are a handsome devil, but we're not that kinky, sorry," Under other circumstances, I would've laughed at that joke, but the situation was too tense to even think of laughing.
"I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute," He appealed to us one last time, and I slipped my hand out of Dean's and brought it to wrap around the shotgun.
"Yeah, I bet you would," Dean muttered, turning back to the wheel.
"Dean?" I prompted, my skin beginning to crawl at the thick tension that hung in the air.
"Yep," He responded before throwing the car into reverse and slamming on the gas, sending the Impala shooting backwards.
"Stop!" The man screamed, gripping Dean's jacket as Dean spun the car around. I cocked the shotgun, taking a split second to aim before firing. The bullet hit the man's head, causing him to fly off the car, and Dean sped along the street back towards the doctor's office.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked me in a gruff voice as he slowed the car when we neared the town again.
"Fine," I nodded, trying to convince myself as much as Dean. "You?"
"Yeah, good," I knew he was freaked, no matter what he said.
"What the hell is going on here?" I muttered, wishing to God I knew the answer.
"I don't know," Dean admitted, looking around. "But whatever it is, it's not good," That much was for sure. Suddenly, Dean slammed on the breaks, making the Impala jolt to a stop.
"Hands where I can see them!" The dark-skinned man from before was yelling at us with what looked like a sniper rifle alternating between being aimed at Dean and being aimed at me.
"Son of a-" Dean didn't get a chance to finish that thought, for the man was already barking more orders at us.
"Get out of the car!" Dean and I showed him our palms, making it clear we had no weapons. "Get out of the car!"
"Great," I muttered in sarcastic annoyance as I opened the passenger door, which made the man train the rifle on me.
"All right. Easy there, big guy," Dean called as he slowly got out of the car. "Put it down!" He cocked a handgun, aiming it at the man from the fishing store.
"Lower it now!" The man yelled back, growing tenser. "Are you one of them?!"
"No, are you?!" Dean yelled back.
"No! What about her?!" He shifted to aim the rifle at me while I just stood there watching the scene unfold.
"No!"
"You could be lying!" He yelled at us.
"So could you!"
"Hey!" My shout efficiently ended their conversation. "Listen, you two could do this all day. Meanwhile, there is a real enemy out there who may be following us," The man glanced at me before lowering his weapon slowly.
"What's going on with everybody?" He questioned.
"We don't know," I answered truthfully.
"My neighbor, Mr. Rogers-" The man began, not quite sure how to continue.
"You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?" I shot Dean a half amused half chiding look.
"Not anymore," That wiped all traces of humor from my mind. "He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one. I mean, it's happening to everyone,"
"We're heading up to the doctor's place," I explained to him, ignoring Dean's sharp look. I would've been able to sense if he was one of them the way I'd sense the Tanner boy was. "There's still a few normal people left,"
"No way. I'm getting the hell out," He immediately protested.
"There's no way out. they got the bridge covered. Now, come on," Dean told him, making his eyes narrow at us distrustingly.
"I don't believe you," He raised the gun slightly.
"Fine, then you can stay out here and probably end up like them," I was tired of trying to save people who seemed to have a death wish. I slid back into the car and slammed the door, Dean doing the same on his side. The man slid into the back seat, pulling out a handgun as he did so. As soon as he sat down, he trained the gun on Dean, making me pull a gun out of the waistband of my jeans and train it on him without a second's thought. He switched the aim to me only to have Dean focus his already cocked gun on him.
"Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive," Dean commented as the Impala began to move again. I didn't take my eyes off the man in the backseat. The drive back to the doctor's office was spent in a tense silence that seemed to hang in the air between us. When Dean finally pulled in in front of her door, it was a relief to be back.
"Sammy! Open up!" Dean called as we walked in, guns still drawn. Sam was waiting for us, and let us in without question.
"Did you guys get to a phone?" Sam questioned, hope lining his voice.
"No, there was a roadblock," I informed him, glancing through the blinds at Pam, who was standing there, shifting uncertainly. I frowned at her, still getting that weird feeling like I got with the Tanner boy, but not getting it as strongly as with the other cases.
"I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside," I was snapped back into the present by Dean's brusque tone.
"All right," The man with the sniper rifle, whose name was Mark, headed in to get checked by the nurse.
"What's going on out there, guys?" Sam asked the second Mark was out of earshot.
"Man, I don't know," Dean confessed throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I feel like Chuck Heston in 'The Omega Man'. Sarge is the only sane person we could find,"
"Did you find out what we were dealing with?" I questioned, praying he had some clue.
"Yeah, doc thinks it's a virus," Sam informed us.
"Okay, great. What do you think?" Dean questioned, glancing at Sam from where he was pacing agitatedly.
"I think she's right," He admitted, making me frown in surprise. We never agreed with what regular people thought was the problem. "And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The virus leaves traces of sulfur in the blood,"
"A demon virus?" I got out in shock at the same time Dean asked, "A demonic virus?"
"Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare," Sam scoffed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe this. Not that I blamed him. I mean, I couldn't believe this. "At least it explains why I've been having visions,"
"It's like a biblical plague," Dean murmured, turning back around to pace.
"Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean," I glanced up at Sam as he began speaking. "I've been pouring through Dad's journal. I found something about the Roanoke colony. Dad always had a theory about 'Croatoan'. He thought it was a demon's name - sometimes known as Daeva or Reshef - a demon of plague and pestilence,"
"Why now? Why here?" I asked; none of this was making any sense.
"I have no idea," Sam admitted. "But, guys, who knows how far this thing can spread? We've got to get out of here. We've got to warn people," Sam was right. We needed to warn the other hunters so we would be ready to fight when the time came.
"They've got one! In here," Mark yelled from the other room, and I followed Dean in running to the room that Mark was standing by.
"What do you mean?" Dean questioned gruffly, coming to stand by Mark.
"The wife - she's infected," Sam explained briefly, and my heart froze. Blood-to-blood contact.
"We've got to take care of this," Mark told us, a grim look on his face. "My neighbors - they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get," Dean didn't hesitate in cocking his gun and starting towards the room, but I gripped his arm tightly, stopping him.
"Mel-"
"She bled on me," All three men's eyes snapped to me immediately. "It was when we rescued her her hand had been on her wound to try to stem the blood and I had a cut on my shoulder," I gestured to the white bandage Sammy had wrapped around it. For a moment, nobody moved, and then Mark grabbed his gun, cocking it and aiming at my head. Dean stepped in front of me, his gun already drawn while Sam started for Mark. "Wait!" I snapped, making them pause again. "The doctor was able to tell by the blood that the guy had it, right?" Sam nodded. "So she'll check mine," I didn't wait for a response before hurrying into the room where the doctor was waiting. I could already have it. I could be going crazy right now. Turning into one of those things.
"You need to take my blood," I ordered the doctor, my mind still trying to process what was happening. I held out my hand to the doctor and she obliged. She tested it while I glanced back at Mark, who had a gun trained on me, before flicking my eyes to Dean and Sam, who seemed torn between worry and fear. Dean stepped in front of me, blocking me from Mark's gun and sending him a glare. Mark opened his mouth to speak when Dr. Lee came back with the results.
"You're clear," I let out a relieved sigh before turning back to face the boys.
"Are you gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" Pam asked in disbelief, having seen what had happened when I'd almost been diagnosed.
"Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?" Sam questioned hopefully, but I already knew the answer to that. Treatments didn't just fall out of the sky whenever a disease came about.
"For God's sake, I don't even know what 'it' is," She cried, half hysterical now.
"So, it's a matter of time before she breaks through," Mark summed up, pointing his gun at the door, more than ready to go in and kill her.
"Just leave her in there! You can't shoot her like an animal!" Pam exclaimed, horrorstricken.
"Sam," Sam nodded, pressing himself against the utility room door with his hand on the handle while Dean, Mark, and I cocked our guns, ready to go in. Sam unlocked the door and pushed it open, quickly getting out of the way. Inside, Beverly Tanner was sitting in the corner of the room next to a stack of files with her knees pressed to her chest.
"Mark. What are you doing?" She begged in a weepy voice. "Mark, it's them," She choked out, beginning to cry a little. "They locked my in here. They tried to kill me. They're infected, not me. Please, Mark," I glanced at Mark to see the struggle on his face. "You've known me all your life. Please,"
"Are you sure she's infected?" I asked, not wanting to shoot her.
"Yeah," Sam answered in a barely audible whisper. Dean took two steps into the room and held the gun level with the crying woman. I turned away, but that didn't stop me from hearing the gunshots.
I had thought that John or my father would post bail, and we'd skip town. I'd be back with Dean and Sam in no time. That wasn't exactly what had happened. John had come to see me without Dean or Sam, and he told me that my father wanted me to stay there as a lesson for what I'd done. A freaking lesson.
"Officer Hewlett caught her red handed stealing up at the local store," I glanced at the deputy, who was talking to an older, farmer-looking man with a mullet and a mustache. All that John had told me was that Dean and Sam were alright, and that they'd come back for me when my dad allowed.
"So, what did she take?" I glanced around the room, taking it in and looking for ways to escape. There were no shortages of exits. It was a nice farm at the edge of a town. The living room were we were was quaint and organized from what I could tell.
"Get this - peanut butter, bread, and some canned foods. She had an accomplice, but wouldn't give 'em up," I remained silent from where I was sitting on the couch in front of the window.
"Okay. And how about family?" The man questioned, seizing me up before turning to the Deputy that had driven me out here.
"Well, her old man called. Once he found out what happened, he said let her rot in jail," I shook my head and yanked lightly on the cuffs that ensured my staying where I was. The first thing that deputy did was handcuff me to the table. "Judge is off on a fishing trip. The girl's too young to leave in county, and you're the only home in the area," He motioned to me, giving me a pretty clear idea of what 'home' meant. "So we thought it best she stay here till arraignment,"
"You know this home is for boys," The man, whose name was Sonny, pointed out.
"Trust me, I think she'll fit in fine," Sonny hesitated a moment more before shrugging in consent.
"I don't see why not, man," The deputy reached up and took off his glasses.
"Appreciate it, Sonny," Sonny's eyes were drawn to the deputy's left eye that had a pretty big red blotch surrounding it. I couldn't help the warm feeling of satisfaction that rushed through me at the sight of it.
"Where'd you get the shiner?" He asked, and I didn't try to stop the laugh from escaping my lips, which made the deputy turn to me furiously.
"You think that's funny?" He snapped at me.
"Is there another reason people laugh?" I questioned innocently, drawing my eyebrows together in mock confusion and smirking as I saw the deputy's jaw tighten in anger.
"You sucker punched me!" The man yelled, getting even angrier.
"Please! I barely tapped you!" I had to admit I was enjoying getting under the deputy's skin. It was as easy as it was fun. The deputy made an angry start towards me, but Sonny's hand stopped him.
"Come on, now! Billy, I got this, buddy," The deputy reluctantly moved backwards, nodding to Sonny. "It's alright," The deputy began walking away, and I mock waved at him with a flourish.
"You shouldn't do that, kid," Sonny warned me as the door shut.
"And why is that? Cause he's a cop?" I asked, hiding a grin. If only this guy knew how low an opinion my family had of police officers.
"Because when you make him mad, he leaves with the key," I chuckled lightly, raising my hands and letting the cuffs fall off of them. I smiled widely at Sonny's almost comical look of shock as I placed my bobby pin on the counter. "Where'd you learn to do that?" I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Around," I'd taught myself last year. Figured it would come in handy down the road. He walked around the coffee table to grab my wrist lightly, seeing the bruises that were scattered up and down each arm.
"Deputy did that?" I chuckled, glancing away, but remained silent as I tried to come up with a believable lie. "Then what, your old man?" This time I shook my head; a lot can be said about John and my dad, but they would never abuse me. "Well, then, how'd you get it?"
"Werewolf," I decided to just speak the truth. I mean, he probably already thought I was troubled. Why not throw hallucinating into the mix, right? We'd just finished a werewolf hunt. That thing had thrown Dean and I clear across a shed and into a wall. Dean and I both had bruises covering our arms.
"Okay," I was more than a little surprised by Sonny's acceptance of my answer. I rubbed my sore wrists lightly when he released them.
"So, what's stopping me from running away?" I questioned, not sure what to think about the open display of trust.
"Because you're hungry," Sonny answered, taking some glasses to the kitchen.
"Who says that?" I asked defiantly, trying to ignore how hungry I actually was.
"You do," My eyebrows drew together in confusion as he paused and turned to face me. "You stole bread, peanut butter, and some canned foods," I didn't respond.
"So, what is this place? Deputy said it was a home. A home for troubled kids, right? Mostly boys?" I guessed, glancing around the living room and hoping.
"Yeah, that's right. You work the land. Teaches you some discipline and responsibility. Keeps you out of trouble," I let out a small, sarcastic laugh.
"And you think that really works?" I didn't. I reckoned most boys who left here went straight back to the life they'd come from.
"Beats jail," Sonny had a point there. "Come on. I'll fix you something to eat," I followed him into the kitchen.
"Mel," I was pulled out of my memories by Dean, who was looking at me with some concern. "You alright?"
"Yeah, fine," My eyes landed on Sammy, who was checking weapons a short distance away. "You have to tell him, Dean," Dean shook his head immediately. "He deserves to know,"
"Just wait, okay? He doesn't have to know. We're not even sure if it will come to that," Dean reasoned.
"I know you're trying to protect him, but leaving him in the dark isn't going to help," I took a deep breath, knowing I needed to tell him now. Leaving Dean in the dark wasn't helping anyone either. "Dean-" The shattering of glass followed by a scream interrupted me, and I snatched a gun off the table before following Dean into the room.
"Oh, God! Is there any on me? Am I okay?!" Pam was freaking out, having dropped a vial of the blood on the floor.
"You're clean. You're okay," Dr. Lee reassured her.
"Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go," She pleaded, but I knew we couldn't.
"No, we can't. Those things are out there. We wouldn't make it two feet," I told her, knowing that logic wouldn't make much difference in the hysterical state she was in.
"Oh, God. Why is this happening?" She put her face in her hands and tried to take deep breaths.
"She's right about one thing. We can't stay here," Sam pointed out, and I nodded in agreement. "We've got to get out of here, get to the roadhouse, somewhere. Let people know what's coming,"
"That's a good point," Dean conceded. "'Night of the Living Dead' didn't exactly end pretty,"
"Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice," Mark told us darkly. "Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hardware, we're easy targets. So, unless you've got some explosives…" He trailed off, shaking his head. I glanced at Sam to see him looking at something above my head, and I followed his gaze to the supply cabinet.
"We could make some," He suggested, going over and holding up the Potassium Chloride. Before I could say anything else, there was a loud pounding on the door.
"Hey! Let me in! Let me in! Please!" The shouting continued, and I followed Dean and Mark with my gun drawn and cocked.
"It's Duane Tanner," Mark announce, rushing to the door and opening it to let in the ginger young man.
"Oh, thank god," Duane muttered as he stumbled in, and Mark locked the door quickly after him.
"Duane, you okay?" Mark followed him inside while I stood unmoving with Sam and Dean.
"That's the guy that I…" Dean made a clicking noise with his tongue, drawing a line across his throat with his finger to finish the sentence.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, sounding a bit frightened.
"Who else is in here?" Duane questioned as we approached him.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, chief," Dean caught Duane's arm, preventing him from doing anything else. "Hey, doc, give Duane a good once-over, would you?" The woman nodded, and the five of us followed her into the examination room again.
"Who're you?" Duane asked Dean.
"Never mind who I am," Dean brushed off the guy's concern before refocusing his attention on the woman. "Doc," He gestured to Duane, and the doctor nodded to show she understood.
"Duane, where you been?" Mark asked, starting to become slightly suspicious himself.
"I was on a fishing trip, up by Roslyn," He gave us the same answer his brother had. "I came back this afternoon. I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives. I ran. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my dad and mom?" No one responded.
"Awkward," Dean whispered, and I nudged him hard in the ribs.
"He's bleeding," I realized, my eyes dropping to his cut leg. The doctor knelt down to get a better look at the wound. She looked up at us, and the look in her eyes left no doubt what she was thinking. "How'd you get that?" I tried to sense whether or not he was one, but it had been getting harder and harder to distinguish the feel of one of those things. It was like when someone walked into a room for the first time and could smell vanilla, but the longer they stayed in the room, the more the vanilla smell blended into the background. I had thought Pam had felt infected, but now I thought it was probably Mrs. Tanner. I may have gotten them confused.
"I was running. I must have tripped," He shrugged, but something in his explanation made me wary.
"Tie him up," Dean ordered Mark, jerking his head to the supply closet. "There's rope in there,"
"Wait!" Duane cried, snapping his head around to look at each of us in turn with terrified eyes.
"Sit down!" Dean barked the command at Duane, pulling out his gun and aiming as the younger man tried to get up.
"Sorry, Duane. He's right. We've got to be careful," Mark told him apologetically.
"Careful? About what?" I frowned at his scared eyes.
"Did they cut you and bleed on you?" I questioned, focusing on his response and searching for any sign of a lie in his voice.
"No. What the hell?! No!" He denied, and from what I could tell, he wasn't lying.
"Doc, any way to know for sure? Any test?" Sam asked, turning his attention to the doctor.
"I've studied Beverly's blood work backwards and forwards," Duane's eyes snapped to the doctor, widening.
"My mom?" He questioned, and I had to focus on the doctor, looking away from him. I couldn't watch him begin to realize what had happened to his family.
"It took three hours for the virus to incubate," Dr. Lee went on, ignoring Duane. "Sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so, no, there would be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane… turns,"
"Dean, I've got to talk to you," Sam whispered in a low tone, and I nodded at him, wanting to stay with Mark and Duane to make sure everything went okay. "Now," Sam added as Dean did nothing. Dean glanced at me, and I nodded again, letting him know I had everything under control. Sam and him left while Duane walked over to the chair that Mark had set out for him.
"Sorry about this," I apologized, not really all that sorry. After all, there was a chance he could turn into one of those things outside. "Precaution," Duane swallowed hard as I tied his hands to the chair and Mark got his torso. I doubted Dr. Lee or Pam knew how to tie a really good knot, so they were pretty much useless in this situation.
"Is he gonna kill me?" Duane asked in a terrified voice. I didn't know how to answer that. "Look, I'm not one of them. Okay? I swear!" He began pleading, but I just finished tying him up before backing away.
"If that's true than you don't need to worry," I told him even though I, myself, was worried about him. Dean had been acting odd this whole case, and I didn't know what to think at this point. Suddenly, I heard a door slamming and then a moment later Dean came through, his gun out. "Where's Sam?" I asked, a bad feeling already twisting my stomach as he ignored my question.
"No, no, no, no. No, you're not gonna - no, no, I swear! It's not in me!" He begged Dean, his eyes widening with fear as he looked at the gun in Dean's hand.
"Dean?" But Dean wouldn't look at me, instead choosing to fix his eyes on Duane.
"Oh, God. We're all gonna die," Pam whimpered from the side of the room.
"Maybe he's telling the truth," Mark suggested, glancing nervously at Dean's set expression.
"No, he's not him - not anymore," Dean stated darkly.
"You don't know that," I tried to reason with him. Where the hell was Sam? He cocked the gun as he approached the young man, who was beginning to thrash.
"Ask her! Ask the doctor! It's not in me!" Dean's eyes flicked to Dr. Lee, who was standing beside Pam looking pale and frightened.
"I… just…" She stammered, glancing at Duane before me and then Dean again. "I can't tell," Duane hung his head, beginning to cry a bit.
"Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear it's not in me. It's not in me, I swear. I swear, it's not in me," He repeated over and over, begging Dean to stop as he lifted the gun to aim at his head. "Don't… Don't,"
"I've got no choice," Dean told him, his hands tightening on the gun as Duane descended into pitiful sobs.
"Yes, you do," There was no way in hell I was about to stand by and watch an innocent man get gunned down. "Dean, he could be innocent," Dean's gaze snapped to me for a moment before returning to Duane as I approached him slowly. "Dean, please," Dean's eyes danced between Duane and me for another moment before he lowered the gun.
"Damn it," He muttered as Duane gasped for breath, weak with relief. I walked out the door, knowing Dean probably locked Sam in a room somewhere, and letting my hearing expand until I found him.
"You don't have to do this," I told Sonny, feeling slightly guilty at how nice he was being to me. I kept waiting for a catch. There was always a catch. But not this time.
"I do this for all the boys after they've been here for a month. I figured why change it for a girl?" Honestly, I could barely believe it had been that long. I still missed Dean and Sam terribly, but the feeling was starting to ebb slightly. I just had to trust that they were alright. I knew Dean would look after Sam, and John would make sure both of them were safe.
"I meant about the charges," I confessed. Sonny had managed to get all the charges against me dropped, and for that, I would be forever thankful to him.
"Well, being hungry's not a crime. It's the stealing that is, but I feel if you only do that once, you don't deserve a record. And seeing as how we can't find your pops or family anywhere, you can stay here as long as you want, Mel. You seem to be fitting in fine with the rest of the boys on the farm. Hell, you work as hard as any of them. You're doing good in school. You're making friends. You made the track team. I'm proud of you," I smiled widely at that, surprised at the rush of joy it gave me. He was right. I was doing well on the track team, and I was making a lot of new friends. My grades were all As. I was fitting in well. "Let me ask you something, and I want you to be straight with me," I eyed him cautiously as he said that. "Are you into the whole heavy-metal, devil-worshipping stuff?" I chuckled lightly, glancing down at the menu in my hands as he said that.
"What? Why would you think that?" I asked, even though I knew why he would think that. "No," I was the farthest thing from that that someone could get.
"Hey, I'm not - I'm not judging. It's just I found a few occult-looking symbols carved into your bedpost," I shrugged as if that was nothing, shaking my head at him.
"It's a long story," I hoped he'd leave it at that.
"That story have anything to do with why you put the salt in front of your bunk door every night before bed?" He didn't drop it, and I felt my face shutting down into an expressionless mask.
"It's a family thing. Can't really say much about it," I reverted back to my instincts when someone asked about my family.
"Same family that left you here?" He returned, and I just scoffed, shaking my head slightly before looking back down at the menu and remaining quiet. "What are you - what are you, in the mob or something?"
"Something," I answered. No matter how long I stayed here, or how friendly I got with people, I would never reveal the family secret. Never. "What about you?" I turned the conversation on him, not wanting to stay on our current subject.
"I was part of this gang, right? They were my family. I lived, breathed, I would have even died for them," He opened up about his life, which surprised me. "You know where it got me? Fifteen years in a correctional facility. And for what? Being loyal? To who? I should have been loyal to myself. Because you get one shot at this game, Mel, and when you look in the mirror, you want the person looking back at you to be her own person,"
"Hey, guys," I glanced up at the boy who was serving us. He was around my age, maybe slightly older holding a pad and a pen. He was taller than me by a few inches, and had jet black hair and an angular face. His eyes were bright blue, but they were hidden behind dark rimmed glasses, making him look dorky but in a cute way.
"Hey, Drake. How are you?" Sonny greeted him.
"Good. You?" He responded, seeming to be seizing me up in confusion.
"Good," Sonny replied pleasantly. "Meet my new ranch foreman here, Mel," I half waved, giving him a smile, which he returned.
I blinked out of the memory and focus on pouring the potassium Chloride into a plastic funnel which led into a brown bottle. Dean was to my left doing the same and Sam was to my right, stuffing the white cloth into the mouth of the bottle. I paused in my work to look up as Dr. Lee entered.
"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected," She informed us, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "I'd like to untie him, if that's all right, " Dean glanced at me and Sam before dropping his eyes back to what he was doing.
"Yeah, that's fine," I answered her, and she left again.
"You know I'm going to ask you what happened," Sam told both of us, but I didn't look up from what I was doing.
"Yeah, I know," Dean replied for both of us.
"So, what happened? Why didn't you do it?" Sam questioned like he said he would. The silence dragged on for a minute or so before finally Dean cleared his throat, looking meaningfully at Sam.
"We need more alcohol," Sam sighed, getting to his feet and walking into the supply closet. "Thank you," I was so surprised I thought I'd imagined the words, but one glance at Dean told me I hadn't. "I would've…" I took his hand gently, squeezing it with a small smile.
"No, you wouldn't have," I told him with certainty in my voice.
"How do you know?" My smile widened slightly.
"Because I know you. You wouldn't have killed an innocent man without undeniable proof," He let out a small chuckle and opened his mouth to say something else when we heard a muffled grunt from the supply closet and then a thud followed by a crash. Dean and I rushed to the door, trying to open it only to find it was shut. Dean kicked down the door, and both he and I shot multiple bullets into Pam's back. She slumped to the floor, dead. Sam reached up for help getting to his feet, and I instinctively began reaching for his hand when Mark pulled me back.
"She bled on him," He nodded to the red mark on Sam's chest. "He's got the virus," No. No, that's not possible. Three minutes later I handed Sammy an ice pack for his cut while he sat in a chair with the rest of us standing around him uselessly.
"Doctor, check his wound again, would you?" Dr. Lee didn't move from where she was standing by the shelves of supply. "Doctor!" Dean snapped, making her snap into action.
"What does she need to examine him for?" Mark broke in. "You saw what happened. He's-"
"Shut up," I snapped, efficiently cutting him off, and making his eyes snap to my face in surprise.
"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Dr. Lee asked Sam, but I could see the answer in his eyes.
"Come on! Of course it did!" Mark yelled, getting angry.
"We don't know that for sure!" Dean shouted back.
"We can't take a chance," Duane spoke up.
"You know what we have to do," Mark told us solemnly, and I glared ferociously at him.
"Nobody is shooting Sam," I spoke with finality, daring them to argue.
"He's not gonna be Sam much longer," Duane replied to me before turning to Dean. "You said it yourself!"
"Nobody's shooting anyone!" Dean snapped back.
"You were gonna shoot me!" Duane cried, furious at Dean's hypocrisy. "If it weren't for her, you would've!" Duane gestured wildly at me.
"Which means you owe me!" I twisted his words around on him, making him open and close his mouth for a minute. "No one is shooting Sam," I repeated my words from earlier.
"Mel," My attention was distracted by Sam calling my name. "Dean, they're right. I'm infected," I shook my head, still unwilling to believe it. "Just give me the gun, and I'll do it myself,"
"Forget it," Dean spoke for both of us as he said those words. Sam was not going to die.
"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things," Sam set his jaw in determination.
"We still have time, okay? We'll think of something," I tried, but my heart sunk as I saw the desolate look in his eyes. He'd given up already.
"Yeah? What? Look, I understand he's your brother and your friend, and I'm sorry. I am. But I've got to take care of this," He pulled a gun out of his jeans, and I immediately stepped in front of Sam protectively.
"I'm gonna say this one time. You make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me?" Mark didn't answer for a moment. "Do I make myself clear?!"
"Dean!" Sam began protesting.
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Mark yelled back at him. Dean hesitated a moment, glancing at me and then at Sam before fishing the keys out of his pocket, tossing them to Mark.
"Get the hell out of here. That's what. Take my car. you've got the explosives. There's an arsenal in their. you two go with him. You got enough firepower to handle anything now," Dean told him solemnly.
"What about you?" Mark asked, but Dean was gazing at me. I inclined my head slightly, my determination steadfast; there was no way I was leaving Sammy here to die alone.
"Guys, no," I switched my determined gaze to Sammy. "No. Go with them. This is your only chance,"
"You're not going to get rid of us that easily," I smiled as I spoke lightly, though there was nothing light about the situation at hand.
"He's right. Both of you should come with us," Dean just fixed him with a tired, set look that made his face loosen in realization. "Okay, it's your funeral," Dean and I followed Dr. Lee to the door where she paused, turning back to face us for a moment.
"I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, marshals," I let out a small chuckle at her words, and she frowned at me like I was crazy.
"We're not actually marshals," I informed her, shrugging nonchalantly as her eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Um…oh," She stammered, glancing away and then back to me and then to Dean before leaving. I met Dean's eyes for an endless moment before I shut the door and locked it with a soft click.
"I wish we had a deck of cards," Dean reflected, turning to face Sammy, who was still sitting in the chair with the ice pack glaring at us.
"Yeah, or a foosball table," I added, knowing that he was trying to keep the mood light; we only had approximately another two hours and a half.
"Guys, don't do this," I looked up at Sam to see he was giving us his puppy eyes. "Just get the hell out of here,"
"No way," Dean told him with a note of finality in his voice.
"Give me my gun and leave," Sam held out his hand, and I rolled my eyes.
"Sam, we're not going to leave you here alone," I spoke clearly, trying to get the message across. Sam slammed his bad arm down on the table that was next to him, his face twisting into anger.
"This is the dumbest thing either of you have ever done," He snapped at us, and I scoffed lightly.
"I don't think so. Remember that time we tried to steal food when we were sixteen?" I reminded him of the actual dumbest thing we'd ever done. I'd ended up in this home for troubled kids for three or four months.
"Mel, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you," Sam pleaded with us, and I saw a tear running down his face.
"No?" Was all I said.
"No, you both can keep going," I looked away from him, knowing what Dean's next words would be.
"Who says I want to?" Dean asked him honestly, making Sam frown in surprise.
"What?" Sam muttered.
"I'm tired, Sam," Dean came over to lean next to me on the counter and slip an arm around my waist, making me lean on his shoulder. "I'm tired of this job…this life…this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it,"
"So what? So, you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die?" Sam asked, the anger had ebbed a little now. "Look, Dean, I know this stuff with dad had-"
"You're wrong," Dean told him flatly, gazing at me for a moment before looking back at Sam. "It's not about dad. I mean, part of it is, sure-"
"Then, what is it about?" I slipped my hand into Dean's, knowing he was going to tell Sam what John told him. Before he got the chance, however, footsteps approached the door followed by a clatter. I grabbed my gun, heading towards the door as Dean snatched both his and Sam's off the counter. There was incessant knocking, making me open the door to discover Dr. Lee on the other side.
"You better come see this," I glanced back at Sam once before following Dr. Lee out the door. Outside there was no one in sight. The town had gone eerily quiet. "There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just vanished," I gazed around the ghost town until my eyes caught one word carved into a pole. CROATOAN.
I sat with my feet tucked under me as I watched Drake strum a song he'd learned from his father on his guitar. We'd been hanging out a lot in the past two weeks since I'd met him at Cus's Place, the diner where he worked. His grandma was sick and his mom worked two jobs, so he was left to pick up some of the slack money wise.
"So, you travel a lot?" He asked, pausing in his playing to look at me. I shrugged; I didn't like to talk about my family or past to anyone on the farm. It still hurt to think about them.
"Yeah, uh… before this the… family I was living with moved around a lot," I finally got out the sentence, having to make a choice on how to phrase it. Somehow, I wasn't happy with the way the sentence had turned out.
"What was the family like?" He questioned. It was an innocent question, but it stung slightly. I brushed my sleeve up try to feel what was left of the bruises. They were completely healed.
"They were nice, cared about each other. It was just the dad, his two sons and me," I told him, smiling slightly before frowning as Dean's face surfaced in my memories.
"What did he do?" I glanced at him in confusion. "The dad, I mean,"
"You know, boring stuff," I evaded the question. "It was kind of a family business that he did with my real dad,"
"Did you want to do it?" I met Drake's shockingly bright eyes and suddenly wanted to tell him everything. John, my dad, hunting, Dean, Sam. Instead,
"No," I was surprised at my own candor. "I don't think so. But, what I want doesn't really matter,"
"My mom wants me to take over the diner one day," Drake confessed, frowning slightly. "But I'm not going to stick around long enough for that," He grinned, chuckling slightly and making me smile along with him. "So, what is it you really want to do?"
"I want to be a photographer," I confessed; I'd never really told anyone that before. "You know, go to strange lands. Eat crazy foods," He began to laugh slightly. "Don't laugh, this is serious," I chided him, trying to stifle my own laughter.
"Well, I'm going to be a rockstar," He told me, grinning as I laughed.
"With your one song?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him and making him nudge me playfully.
"Shut up," But he was laughing with me. "So, family business, huh?"
"What's with all the questions about my past?" I turned the tables on him, wanting to know why he was so interested in where I came from. He shrugged, glancing down at his guitar. "What?" He didn't respond and, instead, strummed a few chords. "Come on, tell me,"
"I can't figure you out," He admitted, stopping to look me in the eyes. "Most girls are pretty easy to read and all they want to talk about is themselves. You're different," I laughed lightly, feeling a blush tinge my cheeks. Drake set the guitar aside and leaned closer to me, his lips meeting mine softly. He broke away, smiling widely while I let out a small laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
"So, play me something,"
"Hey," I blinked out of my reverie to look at Dean, who'd just come into the room where I was sitting alone, waiting for Sammy to be tested to see if he had the disease.
"Hey," I greeted as Dean sat next to me on the couch I was curled up on. Neither of us had slept, though we were clearly both exhausted. The last time I'd really had a good night's sleep was… well, I couldn't remember. That should say something. Dean wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned on his shoulder. "He's going to be alright," I could feel worry rolling off Dean in waves.
"How are you so sure?" He asked softly.
"I don't think the virus affects Sam and I," I explained my theory to him. "Mrs. Tanner definitely bled on me, but I didn't get the virus like she did. I don't think Sam will get it either,"
"I hope your right," Was all he said, too tired to try to figure out what was going on.
"Was it true? What you said in there about being tired of the job?" I questioned, wanting to know what he was thinking. Dean was silent for so long that, for a short moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer at all.
"We should go see the Grand Canyon," I moved my head off his shoulder briefly to see if he was serious. "We've been all across the country, but we've never seen the Grand Canyon,"
"I'd like that," I murmured in agreement, but I frowned slightly, something nagging at me. Dean couldn't kill Sam. He thought Sam was going to turn into an evil, killing machine and he chose to stay rather than leave and save himself. He couldn't kill either of us. He'd never be able to kill either of us no matter what.
"I'm testing his blood again," I glanced up at Dr. Lee, who I hadn't heard enter the room. We followed her to where Sam was sitting on a chair, and she drew blood, looking at it under a microscope for a moment before announcing, "It's been over five hours, and your blood's still clean. I don't understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet,"
"But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?" Sam questioned, glancing at Dean and I in confusion.
"I don't know, but you're just not. I mean, when you compare it with the Tanner samples," She explained, switching his blood for the Tanner samples and glancing through the microscope. "What the hell?"
"What is it?" I asked.
"Their blood - there's no trace of the virus. No sulfur. Nothing," Dean, Sam, and I walked out the door of the medical clinic and to the Impala, where we leaned on the hood watching Mark and Duane pack up to leave.
"The sarge and I are getting the hell out of here. Heading South. You should come," Duane told the doctor, who smiled at the offer but shook her head.
"I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here, if they'll believe me," She turned down the offer before raising her hand in goodbye. "Take care," The sarge raised his hand as well before flashing us a thumbs up and getting into the car. "You too," The doctor added to us before going back inside the clinic, and Dean turned to face Sam.
"Hey, man, don't look at me. I've got no clue," My eyes swept our surroundings once more before I pushed myself off the car.
"I swear, I'm gonna loose sleep over this one," Dean told us, shaking his head. "I mean, why here? Why now? Where the hell did everyone go? It's not like they just freaking melted,"
"Why was I, and maybe Mel, immune?" Sam added, still leaning on the car as Dean went around to the driver's seat and I went for the passenger's side.
"Yeah, you know what? That's a good question," Dean pointed at Sam. "You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away," Sam got in the back, and Dean began driving away from the ghost town.
"I'm not sure yet about life, about love, but in time…" He sung, flashing me a small grin as he saw me watching him from where I was sitting beside him on the bench swing. The grin made his fingers falter, which I found cute, making me lean in to kiss him. He deepened the kiss, and I smiled into it before a thought struck me, making me put a hand on his chest and push him lightly.
"Everything okay?" He asked, frowning in concern.
"Yeah, fine," I shook my head to rid myself of any thoughts of my past. I was with Drake now, so why couldn't I get Dean's face out of my head? Drake sat back, narrowing his eyes at me.
"No you're not," I was surprised he could read me so well. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just… I hope this lasts," I told him truthfully, and he grinned dopily at me. "A lot of people in my life leave me," I opened up to him. It was true. Too many people in my life abandon me in places. Leave me to be someone else's problem. My dad. John. Dean… Even his name hurt to think about, so I pushed it out of my head.
"I'm not going anywhere," He promised, looking into my eyes, his blue ones full of determination.
"That's what everyone says," I pointed out, knowing how this worked.
"Well, if I leave then who else would take you to the dance?" My eyes widened slightly at what he'd just said. He looked nervous and happy at the same time, which made me smile.
"Drake Richards, did you just ask me to be your date to the school dance?" I asked him, raising my eyebrows.
"Yeah," He smiled at me. "What're you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I'd love to," I pushed all thoughts of Dean to the corner of my mind and kissed Drake softly.
I pulled the car into a nice looking motel off of state road 86. I'd made Dean pull over a while ago, for he looked as though he were about to pass out from exhaustion. Both him and Sam were asleep, Sam in the back, and Dean next to me. I'd been thinking a lot in the hours I'd been driving. I'd thought about when I was a kid and got sent to the home. I'd been happy there. Almost as happy as I'd been with Dean and Sam. They were my family, but they'd be okay without me. They'd survive, at least. What if I became like those things that we'd had to kill in Rivergrove. A mindless, evil, killing machine. Dean wouldn't kill me. He would rather die. I doubted Sam would either. But, Mel, if you can't take care of them anymore, you have to leave them. John's words echoed in my ear as I put the Impala in park.
"Hey," I nudged Dean, who jerked awake, blinking confusedly at the red glowing motel sign. "I'm going to check in. You wake Sam," I told him, jerking me head back at Sam. He nodded as I got out of the car and walked up to the front desk, getting two rooms. I came back out, handing Sam his room key before handing Dean ours. We walked slowly to our room, opening it and setting down our bags. I brushed my teeth and took a shower before throwing on a tank top and shorts to sleep in.
"Do you want to go out to eat?" Dean questioned from where he was sitting on the couch. I glanced down at what I was wearing and smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile.
"Actually I was thinking of staying in," I told him, walking over to the couch. We had been driving for nearly two days. We deserved a break.
"Yeah?" He grinned at me. "What'd you have in mind?" I straddled him and kissed him teasingly before brushing his jawline with my lips softly, moving to his ear, which I nibbled, making him groan.
"I could cook something," I suggested between kisses that I was placing on his neck. I heard the TV switch off just as I moved his shirt slightly so I could press my lips gently to his collarbone. He grabbed my waist and stood in one smooth motion, so my legs were now wrapped around his waist as he made his way towards the bed.
I straightened my dress, looking myself up and down in the mirror. I was wearing a simple, black dress that my friends had said looked amazing on me. It wasn't too long, falling to my mid thigh, and it had straps that crisscrossed in the back. It was tight around my waist, making me look curvy while also making my look thin, which apparently was flattering. My makeup had been done minimally, which I thought looked pretty good. It was hard to tell; I was a bit knew to this. I slipped on my black heels, which was the finishing touch on my outfit. There was a knock on my door, and Sonny came in, looking me up and down.
"Oh, look at you," He laughed slightly, and I frowned at him, thinking that maybe I looked bad. "You look beautiful," He told me, seeming to sense my vulnerability.
"Thanks," I smiled, glancing at my reflection. "I've never really been to one of these things before," I confessed, feeling a little stupid as I looked at my reflection again.
"Yeah," My eyes snapped to Sonny again as I took in his tone. "Look, about that, Mel… your old man's outside, and, man, he's really something," My heart froze in my chest, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I tried to tell him that it was a big night for you, and that you wouldn't want to miss it. He said to tell you he had a job. Said you'd know what that means," My eyes rose to the top of my mirror where I had taped a picture of Drake with his arms around my waist while we both smiled widely at the camera.
"You know," Sonny continued when I didn't speak. "After I got out of jail, this place gave me a second chance, and it's done the same for you, too, so if you want, I'll stick my neck out for you, and I'll fight for you to stay," I tried to fight off the tears that threatened to consume me as I heard a honk from outside. Pushing the curtains aside, I saw the Impala parked in front of the farm with Sammy playing with his toy airplane, and leaning on the side was Dean, his hands shoved into his pockets. I let the curtain fall back into place, turning back to the man standing in front of me.
"Sonny…" I began, having no idea how to continue. "Thank you… for everything, but I have to go,"
"Was he it?" My eyebrows drew together in confusion at his words. "The boy by the car. Was he the one you wouldn't give up to the cops?" I smiled slightly, though there were tears in my eyes.
"Yeah," I whispered. "He's the one,"
"Well, then, he doesn't deserve you," I let out a small, choked laugh.
"You'd be surprised," My smile dropped as twin tears made their way down my face. "I'll miss you," Sonny pulled me into a tight hug, which I returned, trembling slightly. I looked back in the mirror, pulling the bobby pins out of my hair that had been done perfectly in a side bun. It fell in waves down my back, and I wiped the tears away as I kicked off my shoes, opting for combat boots instead. I threw my stuff into my bag before nodding to Sonny and descending the stairs. I made sure there were no tears in my eyes anymore before I opened the door, glancing back at Sonny.
"I'm going to miss the hell out of you, Mel," I smiled shakily at him as he said that.
"Tell the other boys I said bye, will you?" They were all either at the dance or off doing god knows what. "And tell Drake I'm sorry," I added.
"I will," Sonny nodded, and I let the door shut behind me before I walked to the Impala.
"Mel…" Dean trailed off, his eyes widening and his draw dropping as he saw what I was wearing. When I saw Drake, I'd get this fluttering, happy feeling in my stomach, but with Dean it was magnified by ten. Dean's wide eyed look meant more to me than all the times Drake had called me beautiful. "I-" I didn't let him finish that thought, for I flung myself into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck. He froze for a moment before his arms slowly wrapped around my waist. "I'm sorry," He whispered, pressing his head into the crook of my neck. "I never should have left you. I'm so sorry,"
"It's okay," I murmured, keeping my arms wrapped around him. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him until now. "You had no choice,"
"Mel!" I heard a different voice exclaim, and I turned my attention to a smaller figure getting out of the car in a hurry.
"Sammy!" I laughed, breaking the hug with Dean as the kid jumped on me.
"Hey! Come on! We've got to go!" I shivered slightly, glancing up as my dad's voice came from the passenger's seat, and Sammy got back into the car dutifully.
"You cold?" Dean shrugged off his jacket and handed it to me. I put it on quickly, wanting to get out of here before Drake showed up to take me to the dance. I don't think I could deal with that without breaking down.
"Thanks," I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
"I'll never leave you like that again, okay? I promise," The determination in his eyes took me by surprise, but I nodded anyway.
"And I'll never leave you. Promise," Dean smiled broadly, and, as we both got into the car, I pulled his jacket tighter around me, happy to be home.
I glanced up to see Dean sleeping soundly beside me, and I slowly rose to my feet, careful not to make too much noise. I slipped on my jeans and a nice shirt from my bag before opening the door softly, but it didn't matter. Dean stirred, rising slightly from the bed to glance at me in confusion.
"I have a feminine emergency," I lied, praying he was too tired to catch me. Dean knew me better than anyone, and, as annoying as it was, he knew all my tells. He just let out a moan in response and shifted so he was facing downwards, his arms wrapping around the pillow. I crossed the room to press a kiss to his cheek softly. "I love you," I whispered before shutting the door quietly behind me and heading out to the parking lot. The cool air stung my cheeks, turning my tears cold and dry. It only took a moment to flip the lock on the car that was parked next to the Impala. It took another moment to hot-wire the car. And yet another to steel my nerves and pull out of the parking lot.
I loved Dean and Sam, but I couldn't risk hurting them. I couldn't risk hurting Dean if I turned evil. I needed to find answers, and I needed to find them alone. I drove for eleven hours before I saw the exit that I wanted to take. I had shut my phone off the second I'd gotten into the car, for I knew that both Dean and Sam would be calling. I drove for another couple of miles before I saw the house I was looking for. I drove for another two miles, parking my car in an abandoned lot before walking a short distance away and calling a taxi to pick me up. I'd stolen the car and I couldn't risk it being traced back to me. The drive was only two minutes, and I paid the unhappy driver double, which made him slightly less bitter. I ascended the porch steps slowly
It was a nice house, two stories, with a garage to the right and the door to the left. It was very suburban, painted white with a red roof. The yard was small, just a wide patch of grass, though I suspected the back yard was where the children played. The windows were lined with red, which went nicely with the rest of the house. I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door. It opened to reveal a woman in her early thirties with dark, almost black hair that was pulled into a side ponytail, which didn't quite capture all of the strands. Her dark brown eyes, which were highlighted by thin, brown eyebrows, widened in surprise as she stared at me.
"Mel?" She was wearing jeans and an oversized white flannel that had paint smudges scattered across it.
"Hey, Jez," I greeted my sister.
