Chapter 10

It had been a week since he'd said it. Two days afterward, he'd just been embarrassed. Four days afterward, he'd begun to panic. Now, seven days in to admitting he loved her, out loud, in front of her, he just felt sad.

She'd never mentioned it. She'd never said it back. She just went on with him business as usual. Well, not exactly. Not only had he said he loved her, he tried to put the move on her right there on her kitchen counter. She hadn't mentioned that again either.

But he didn't feel like she was giving him the cold shoulder either. In fact, in some ways he felt closer to her than ever. But knowing that she wasn't ready to say the words or take their relationship physically to the next level, made him sad.

And a little lost.

All the other women Dean had been with had said they loved him even though they both knew it was a lie or at least had screwed him hard enough to make him believe they felt something for him.

But Elizabeth wasn't like that. Whether she said the words or not, whether she wanted to be with him physically or not, she wasn't going to lie to him and she wasn't going to push him or let him push her.

He respected that. She was better than he was, stronger. And if she wasn't ready for the words or for the rest of it, he would wait. And he would show her he was a man worth waiting for.

So once his ribs had mended enough, he proceeded to do the manliest thing he could think of. He changed the oil in her little gray sedan because she didn't have any grass for him to cut. And he started asking questions about her parents. If he could somehow get on her dad's good side, he knew he'd be set.

But he still wasn't sure what he was going to say to him. "Hello, Mr. Coleman. I am in love with your daughter. Yes, sir, I am a hunter. No, sir, not deer. I hunt big game, sort of. How will I provide for your daughter? Well, I have a unique set of skills that I've spent years perfecting. No. No, sir, I am not like that guy off Taken. Well, I guess I am sort of."

Then her dad would throw him out of his house for being a nutcase. He was going to have to change a lot of oil. Or maybe drive a tractor. Or back a trailer. Or play football. Or hunt something other than a demon.

He was doomed.

Meanwhile, he kept dreaming about that crazy cadaver chick in that old cabin. And as long as it was just dreams, he didn't mind. After all, a dream was a dream. He'd dreamed enough about hell to last him a hundred lifetimes. That Kelly chick's crazy shit didn't have anything on what he'd experienced there.

Unfortunately, she started bringing the dog in to it. He began to have dreams that Sam was in trouble. First generic trouble as in couldn't find him. Then specific trouble as in eaten by wolves. But when the bitch started bringing Scooter into it, he really got mad. Especially when Sam found out the real story behind the out of control flour wagon.

"You'll never believe this." Sam flashed a stack of printer pages at him in an excited nerdy researcher sort of way. Dean believed he would never understand the thrill his brother got from reading something. "That Kelly cabin woman is connected to the team of horses that kicked the crap out of you last week."

"No way." Dean threw him a disbelief bone as he washed the grease from under his fingernails. Elizabeth's battery terminals hadn't been scrubbed in at least a year. Plus one of her tires had been two pounds lower than optimal.

"I finally found a write up on it back in an 1905 edition of the local paper. Mavis Kelly had an argument with the owner of the local general store. He claimed that when she left the building, she cursed him. Not fifteen minutes later, the driver of the wagon hauling a load of flour and other goods to the store lost control of them. They ran away with him, right in front of the store. The owner's six year old son was run down by the team and nearly died." Sam tossed the papers onto the kitchen table and pulled a beer out of the fridge.

He popped the top and took a drink, then gave Dean that look that meant 'and there's more'. He took another drink for dramatic impact and concluded, "The driver swore he saw Mavis Kelly standing on the street corner muttering something under her breath as he passed. Then the horses bolted for no reason."

"So she's a witch." Dean decided his hands were clean enough and popped the top on a beer of his own.

"And somehow she's back. Sort of." Sam set down his beer bottle and looked Dean straight in the eyes. "I've had some seriously crazy dreams lately."

"Just dreams, Sammy. Just dreams." Dean tried to ignore the way his blood pressure rose a few points. Sam didn't need to be dragged over into this, but he knew his partially-psychic, partially-psycho brother had been down the prognostication path before. He'd been reading signs and omens in the messages in his alphabet soup for years. He could take whatever visions a washed-up ghost hag like that could throw.

But the morning that Elizabeth came knocking at his door, all his patience evaporated.

It was about three a.m. on a Friday when he was awakened by Scooter barking in his face. Within a few seconds he realized that his little white dog was just trying to tell him to get his sleepy ass up and answer the door.

He opened it to see Elizabeth standing there, her eyes wide and her hair in sleep tangles all over her head. She was wearing pink pajama shorts and a big t-shirt. When she threw her arms around him, his first thoughts were that he'd won the lottery. When she started to sob against his bare shoulder, he knew something was bad wrong.

"I had the most awful dream," she sobbed. "I saw you die. I saw this woman in a yellow dress rip you apart."

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured into her ear. "It's okay. I'm safe. It was just a bad dream." Compliments of a nasty bitch who was going to get what was coming to her and then some, he decided. "Come on. You're shivering. Come lie down. It's okay, Lizzie. I'm here."

He led her back to his room and put her back to bed. When he grabbed a pillow and a blanket off a chair to go sleep on the couch, she grabbed his arm. "No. Don't go. We'll sit and watch television or something." She threw back the covers to get up.

"It's three in the morning, Liz. Go back to sleep. You've got to go to work in a few hours."

"I'll be okay. I just don't want to dream anymore. I can't take it."Her lip trembled as she fought back tears.

Against his better judgement, he slipped into the bed with her and pulled her into his arms. She fit perfectly, so soft and warm. He pulled the covers back over them both. "Sleep, sweetie. You sleep. I'm here."

He felt Scooter jump onto the end of the bed and curl up in his usual spot. "Scooter's here too. We'll protect you." She shivered and her heart pounded so hard he could feel it. After several moments her breathing began to slow to normal.

"I'm being ridiculous," she said. "I'm going to go now." But she didn't make any moves to actually pull away from him.

"You are not ridiculous." He squeezed her tighter. "I've been on the receiving end of that kind of nightmare," he assured her. "Trust me, what you saw wasn't just a bad dream. It was a kind of attack. Some spirits aren't strong enough to manifest in any other way, so they creep in your head at night and try to work their bad juju that way."

She lay quietly in his arms, but didn't say anything.

"What I'm saying is there's no reason to feel bad about having a strong reaction to them. You're not being a baby or a fraidy-cat. I've seen people sent to the nuthouse over dreams like this. I'm just proud you fought back."

She turned to look at him. "How did I fight back? I acted like a scared little girl. I can't believe I showed up at your door in my pjs in the middle of the night."

"I think you are adorable in your pjs," he said with a laugh and kissed the top of her head. "You fought back by coming to find me. You made sure with your own eyes that what that bitch was showing you was false. Some folks fall into the delusion and start to believe it. Those are the ones who end up in the hospital." He hugged her against him. "But nobody is going to tell my Lizzie what to believe. She's too strong for that."

"Too stubborn is more like it." Elizabeth mustered up a laugh of her own.

"Now you just lay here with me and go back to sleep. We'll give Sammy and Abigail something to talk about." He adjusted the covers over them and closed his eyes.

She curled up against him, finally relaxing enough to put her arm over his chest. Scooter turned in a circle three times at the foot of the bed before flopping down with a snort. Peace fell over the room like a soft blanket, enveloping him in a sense of belonging and well-being that felt completely foreign but completely wonderful all at the same time.

He never realized life could be like this. With all the traveling and fighting and sometimes losing everything, he never thought about how it would feel to hold everything in his arms in a place of peace and safety and love.

In that moment he knew how much he loved her. He knew how badly he wanted to spend every night for the rest of his life in her arms, to wake up each morning with her at his side, to face all the days ahead of him with her on his team.

He had no idea how he could make it work. How could he ever convince her family that he was worth her time? How could he protect her and keep things like this Kelly spook away from her? Then he considered how much worse he'd seen. How could he keep those things out of her life? And knowing what was out there, how could he not continue to hunt them, to erase them from the good and peaceful place he now knew the world could be?

Help me, he called to a God he wasn't sure of. Help me do this thing right, for her sake.

"Dean?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"I love you." Her voice shook a little as she said it.

"It's okay. Go to sleep," he replied gently as an unstoppable warmth flooded him. He knew without a doubt that he'd finally come home.

-0-

Morning pushed at his eyelids and he became aware that part of his body was wide awake. Without even thinking of the consequences, he reached out for Elizabeth but she wasn't there. He frowned. "Where did you go?" he called but got no answer. At the foot of the bed, Scooter stood and stretched then gave him the eye. "Don't judge me, Scoots. I can't help it. It's morning."

All the same he was both glad and disappointed that she'd slipped out of bed before the rest of his body woke up completely. After a shower, he mostly felt robbed of the pleasure of waking up beside her, knowing she was there to meet the day with him.

He dressed and headed down the hall to try to catch her before work. He knocked at her door, then tried the knob. Since it was unlocked, he stuck his head inside. "Lizzie?" he called.

She stood at the kitchen counter, downing a breakfast shake, looking so pulled together and professional he almost didn't recognize her. "Good morning. You ran off on me."

She looked up at him almost guiltily. "I know. I'm sorry. I was afraid I'd be late for work." She put her glass in the dishwasher and looked at her watch.

"Sweetie, it's only six. What time do you normally get there?" he asked.

"Eight."

"I think you're fine on time, then." She tried to walk past him, not meeting his eyes. He reached out and took her arm. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I just feel really stupid." She finally looked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"Hey, it's okay." He assured her as he pulled her into his arms. "Everything's going to be fine."

"I don't know how it can be fine," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "This is so crazy, Dean. I feel like I'm going nuts."

"You aren't crazy. I'm going to deal with this situation and we're going to go on, business as usual." She tensed up in his arms.

"I don't know if I can do that."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. "What are you thinking, Lizzie? Tell me." He held her away from him so he could see her face.

"This thing with us. I don't know if I can do it." She took a deep breath. "I said something last night that I probably shouldn't have."

"So you don't? You know, you don't?" he asked as ice settled into his veins.

"No, I do. That's the problem. I do and I don't know where it's going to go or how it can possibly all turn out right." A little curl of hair worked its way out of the twist at her neck.

He took the curl in his fingers. It was so soft, so delicate and precious. Everything about her was too valuable, too good for him. But so help him, he couldn't let it go, not for anything.

"Marry me."

The words hung between them.

"What?"

He dropped to his knees and took both her hands in his. If you're going to do it, do it right, he told himself. "I love you. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes flew wide. "Yes. No. Maybe," she stammered. Despite the uncertainty in her words, he could see the smile that fought to take over her face. "Dean, think. Think about what it would mean to marry me."

"I have, Lizzie. That's all I can do," he stood and pulled her over to the couch to sit beside him. "I know I'm not educated enough for a woman like you. I'm not sophisticated. I know how to fix a car and shoot a gun and send evil crap back to hell. Only the fixing cars part belongs anywhere near your life. But I like who I am when I'm with you. With you I can see something ahead of me that I used to only dream about."

He ran his fingers into her hair, pulling more of it free from the pins that only barely held it. "I don't know how I'm going to live in your world because I'm sure as hell not taking you into mine. I don't know how Sam's going to take any of this. I have no idea how I'm going to convince your parents not to have me arrested. But I will. I will do all of it to be able to sleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning."

She reached up to rest her arms on his shoulders, threading her fingers together at the back of his neck. "I'm not daring enough for you," she began. "I have no idea how to kill monsters or even what monsters are real and what are still make believe." She smiled nervously. "Please tell me that some of them are still make believe."

When he shook his head no, she whispered, "Shit. I was afraid of that. The truth is, this life you've led scares me. I don't think I can keep up. I mean, if I was running for my life being chased by zombies I might get over the first fence because I just got my muscle-up at Crossfit. But I don't know if I could get over a bunch of them. I'd just slow you down. You'd be constantly having to look out for me. So, no. I don't think I would be a good hunter."

His heart sank. She was right. Turning him down was the smart choice. She needed someone better than him. Someone who could offer her a real life.

She continued, "But I think I could be a good wife. And I think you will be a wonderful husband. All I know is that until I met you, I didn't really know how much I missed you. That first night outside the hardware store, I could see it in your eyes. I knew the kind of man you were. Someone who never lets go, who always does everything he can to protect the ones he loves."

"I told you when we first met that I was an all-in kind of girl," she stated. "If I am yours, I am 100% yours. Until death. We mean business in our family when we love somebody. Are you up for that kind of commitment? No fooling around before the wedding. No cheating afterward. We play hard ball."

He couldn't help but smile like teenage boy. She said hard ball. "I'm in. For keeps. Better or worse. Death do us part. One team," he stated. "When do you want to do this? I hate long engagements."

"You better talk to my daddy first. If you aren't man enough to ask for my hand, we need to call this off now," she laughed, but he knew she was serious.

"Deal. Dinner. Tonight?"

"Okay, dinner. I'll cook and invite them over." She stood up and went to the kitchen. "What have I got to cook in here?"

"Have you mentioned me to them? At all?" he asked. "We could have roast. You make a mean roast. I can go to the store if you need me to."

"I've mentioned you. My mom already knows things are serious. She's been pestering me about meeting you for weeks."

"Weeks?" he was gratified. "So you've been serious about me for weeks?"

"You know that I have. Practically since we met."

"You did a great job of hiding it. I mean with the whole ignoring me for a week thing," he teased.

"That's only because I knew where this was going." She closed the refrigerator door and looked him squarely in the eye. "We still haven't talked about the big stuff. How are you going to marry me and still do what you do with Sam?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't know."

"And what about this evil Kelly woman that keeps giving me nightmares?" she added. "This town was so quiet. Now it's off the chain crazy with ghosts and crap."

"I'm going to fix the Kelly bitch today. And who knows what starts stuff up in a place? Something moved, something opened, something showed up." Dean took her hand. "Just know that I'm going to fix it. I love you and I like living in Hunter. I'm not going to let anything else happen here. Maybe shutting down Mavis Kelly's spirit will do the trick. Maybe she's behind it all. Ranulf did say he started to burn her house. That might have riled her up."

But even as he said it, Dean knew his explanation didn't really add up. However, the biggest link between all the events was the old ghost town on Ranulf's land. Maybe sending Kelly back to the grave would seal it all up again. At the least, it would end her attacks on Elizabeth, and that was something he sincerely meant to see happened.

He slowed Elizabeth down enough to eat a quick breakfast with her and stood in the doorway of her bathroom and watched her pin her hair back up into another twist. Her fingers moved so exactly, pulling the hair into a sleek roll with only a handful of bent metal clips to keep it in place. He was awestruck.

" Can I take it down again when you get home?" he asked. "It's like a puzzle. I want to take it apart."

"Yes, you can take it down." She kissed him lightly on the lips. He wanted to grab her and prolong the kiss, to deepen it, to hold her still long enough to begin the deconstruction of her hair and the removal of her clothes. But he'd promised to keep his hands mostly to himself.

He began to think over all the things he'd done and all the women he'd done them with. What was left? What could he do with Elizabeth that would be special? In all the years he'd slept with anything that would hold still long enough, he'd never been forced to wait on any woman. Maybe that would be it. The thing he would do for her that he'd never done before. He'd wait.

He helped her into her jacket and carried her briefcase for her as they walked to her car. He opened the door of the gray sedan and handed her in. He gave her a kiss and told her to have a good day at work.

He watched her car drive away into the distance, then headed back inside to his place. He threw open the door to his brother's bedroom. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" he called. "We're going on a witch hunt."

-0-

Several hours later, deep in the woods behind Charles Ranulf's house, the two men swatted at gnats as they made their way down a rutted dirt road, each carrying a large gas can.

"How much further?" Sam asked for the third time. "We've been walking for miles."

"We haven't gone more than 500 yards from the car," Dean snapped back. "It only seems like miles because you keep bitching every ten steps."

"There's no way we've been just 500 yards. I think you're lost and don't want to admit it." Sam sounded so self-righteous Dean wanted to knock the shit out of him.

"I am not lost. That damned cabin is just ahead. I can feel it. I can feel her. She wants me." Dean could practically feel the claws against his neck.

"You're still dreaming," Sam declared. They walked a few more steps and his brother stopped. "You dreamed this, right?"

Dean nodded. "I dreamed she ripped my throat out in that old rundown shack. I've seen every inch of that place. I know where it is. It's just up the road."

"It wants you there. But it doesn't want me." Sam set his gas can on the ground. "That's why it's doing this to us. It's trying to keep me from coming with you."

"So what are we going to do?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to turn around and go home."

"Fine. Go. Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam spun on his heel, picked up his gas can and headed back down the road.

Dean took a step back down the road, making sure not to walk too fast. Sure enough just as he rounded the next curve in the road, he smelled smoke.

"Good job, Sammy," he called out, but to his dismay the smoke wasn't coming from the ramshackle building before him. Instead his brother lay crumpled in a heap on the ground, flames circling him. "Sam!"

At the door of the shack, a thin form oscillated in and out of focus. "You didn't think I had it in me, did you? You thought I was just in your dreams," a woman's voice spoke out of the image.

"What did you do to my brother?" Dean snarled.

"No more than he was going to do to me," she answered. "You want him, you've got to deal with me." The form backed away into the house again.

"Sammy!" Dean called again, searching through the flames for any sign of life. "Sammy!"

He walked closer to the blaze but the flames only flared higher, forcing him back a step. The haint's powers were stronger here, he realized. Maybe back at his house she could only invade their dreams, but here on her own turf she was more dangerous than he'd realized.

He pulled his two shot pistol out of its holster and checked the load. Two shells of salt. In his jacket pocket he had three holy water balloons. He hoped it would be enough to hold her off long enough to burn that place to the ground, taking whatever pieces of her it held that gave her a toehold in this world.

"Come on in, boy," the voice hissed.

"Hang on, Sammy," he called to his brother. "I'll just be a minute."

But before he could take another step further, he heard the sound of roaring engines behind him. Dust rose from the road but he could make out two ATVs racing toward him.

One of them headed straight for the flames, spinning sideways as it burst through the wall. A man got off and pulled Sam to his feet.

The other drove toward the house, the driver pulling alongside the place. The driver reached into a cooler strapped to the back of the ATV and pulled out a bottle, lit the rag dangling from the top, then threw the bottle against the wall of the shack where it burst into a sheet of flame.

Another bottle, then another blasted against the wall of the falling down house. In only a few moments, the entire structure was ablaze, the old pine timbers bursting into hot flame.

"No!" he heard a voice screaming from the inside.

He took a few steps toward the front door. Someone was in there. Someone was trapped.

But a hand reached out. The driver of the ATV that firebombed the place grabbed him by the elbow. He turned to argue, but the driver pulled off her helmet.

Elizabeth.

"Don't listen to her, Dean. Listen to me."

The cries grew more anguished as the fire consumed the place. But he didn't listen to the expiring groans of Mavis Kelly's spirit.

Instead, he listened to his heart. He listened to his Elizabeth.