The Sword, the Singer, and the Vessel
"The Forked Road"

I sat there, staring fixatedly at my scar—the only reminder I had that the Cullens had been real—willing Edward's voice to return. I didn't notice Sam until he spoke.

"Bella?"

I could detect the concern in his voice and I tried to rearrange my features into an expression that was less shocked, desperate, and just plain horrified.

"I'm fine."

My voice sounded calm, despite the lump in my throat. I didn't know how I was managing it, speaking as if my world wasn't crashing down around me, but judging by the familiar numbness that I could feel just at the edge of my reach, I had a pretty good idea.

"I'm fine," I repeated. "Go," I insisted, nodding at the door. "Dean needs you."

I could tell Sam didn't believe me, but I also knew that these were the magic words. If there was one thing I had learned during my time with Sam and Dean, it was that they would do anything for each other. They didn't say it in so many words, but their bond was evident to anyone who had been around them for longer than five minutes.

Sam looked suspicious, as if he recognized what I was doing, but that didn't stop him from entering the room.

"So why the piano, the curling iron, the sculpture? Why not just break in one night and slit their throats?" Dean asked as Donald's howls quieted.

"We've all got our kinks." I could hear the smirk in Donald's voice. "Besides, what would be the fun in something so quiet as that?"

I couldn't believe that anyone would associate slitting someone's throat as quiet.

"You want the attention," Sam realized. "But why?"

I clenched my eyes shut as Donald's pained moans resumed when he remained silent for too long.

"To piss her off," Donald finally gritted out.

"Her?"

"She holds all of the contracts. Each soul she claims gives her more power. If the contract's broken, she can't collect."

"Who is she?"

Another bout of tortured screams filled the silence and I just couldn't take it anymore. I staggered to my feet, casting one last glance at the door before fleeing down the hallway. I managed to make out Donald's answer before reaching the elevator.

"Lilith," he hissed.

...

I watched the bright red numbers count down, anxious to make it to the bottom floor. I was relieved when the doors finally slid open and wasted no time in hurrying across the lobby, wondering how long it would take for Sam and Dean to notice my absence.

It was only when I made it outside that I remembered that I had nowhere to go. I was in Mississippi for god's sake, and I was completely, utterly, alone.

I stood there, my breathing becoming labored when a taxi pulled up and a couple emerged, neither of them paying me much attention as they moved passed. I stared at the taxi for a moment as it remained idle, before I was suddenly moving forward and sliding into the backseat.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

The words came out without real thought, but once they did, I realized that it was exactly where I needed to go.

"Lloyd's bar."

...

I dug my fingers into the ground, feeling bits of gravel lodge themselves uncomfortably underneath my nails. It didn't take long for me to reach the box with the various occult items inside, but I hesitated before adding my license.

I was alone out here with only the moon to give me light, my heart pounding in my chest. Yet, despite the adrenaline and the dangerous situation I was about to put myself in, everything remained horribly silent. The reminder that Edward's voice had finally abandoned me too gave me the resolve to drop it in.

I reburied the box and stood, my gaze searching the clearing for some difference or an indication that it had worked. For several long moments, there was nothing, until I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. I whipped around, gasping when I came face-to-face with a pretty brunette woman in a little black dress.

"Bella Swan...as I live and breathe."

I watched as her eyes suddenly flashed red, much like Donald's had turned black.

"Well. Figuratively, anyway," she smirked. "Never expected to see you here."

"You...you know who I am?" I asked, surprised.

"I make it a habit of keeping an eye on the Winchester boys," she explained.

Despite my having fled from Sam and Dean, I didn't like the sound of that. I was sure that the brothers wouldn't either.

"You're a peculiar thing, aren't you?" she remarked, strolling closer.

"Excuse me?"

"The Cold One who loved his singer. That's what they're calling you two."

"They?"

"Other demons."

"You...talk about me?" I asked, incredulously.

I remembered the way Donald had stared at me at the hotel. He must've known about me too. The idea of a bunch of demons discussing my love life was unnerving.

"Of course. There are even some bets going. Personally, I thought the two of you would pull through. I guess I was wrong, wasn't I?" she replied with a knowing look.

I tried not to think about what she knew and focused on why I was here. Sensing my shift in mood, she leveled her gaze onto me.

"Why have you called me here? Last I heard, you were getting cozy with the elder Winchester."

You obviously haven't been paying that much attention then, I thought.

I took a deep breath.

"I need something."

"We all need something. You need to be a bit more specific."

She moved a few steps away, glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes.

"You want Edward back," she deduced. "I can make that happen."

I chewed on my bottom lip and stared at her with furrowed brows, realizing how surreal this situation was. After months of anguishing over Edward's departure, I couldn't believe that it could be so easy, that regaining everything I had lost was actually within my grasp.

"And the...the price?" I asked.

"Ten long years in exchange for your soul."

Ten years still sounded like quite a bit of time, but now that I was standing here on the brink of making such a deal, a little hesitancy was beginning to filter passed the desperate and panicked thoughts that had driven me to this clearing.

"All you have to do to seal the deal is plant one right here," she smirked, indicating her lips.

My eyes widened in disbelief. I don't know what I had expected—maybe signing a contract in my own blood—but a kiss certainly hadn't been it.

"What's wrong? You've kissed a vampire, surely a demon wouldn't make you squeamish. Or is it the meat suit? A little too feminine for your taste?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

For a brief moment, I forgot my own problems and I thought about the woman the Crossroads Demon was possessing. Was she aware of what was happening around her—to her?

"Don't worry, honey. I'm about as feminine as a bulldog. I'm certainly more masculine than your sparkling ex."

I frowned at that, but chose not to comment.

As I stood there about to make one of the biggest decisions of my life, I felt a strong sense of wrongness wash over me. I knew I wanted this—had wanted this for so very long—but deep down I couldn't shake the feeling that this was an extremely bad idea.

Going back to the way things were and preventing Edward from leaving would give me that life back, but what about the one I was living now? Would I remember the ghosts, the witch, and the demons? Would I remember that triumph I felt over doing something so simple as purchasing my own clothes?

If I went back, would the brothers still show up to stop Laurent? By ensuring that Edward and the Cullens never left, would I actually be putting them in more danger?

What about Edward? He had left because he didn't think I was good enough for him. Would I be condemning him to a life with me, a mediocre human? I hated when others made my decisions for me. By making this deal, was I taking his choice away?

All of these thoughts were suddenly pushing their way to the forefront of my mind, increasing my doubt with each second.

"I don't have all night..." she sang, shooting me a pointed look.

I opened my mouth, uncertain of what I was actually going to say, when a pair of headlights shone through the darkness. I cringed as Dean slammed his door shut—hard enough to express his anger without causing damage to his beloved car. For one crazy moment, I thought about surging forward and completing the deal before Dean could reach us, but quickly dismissed that idea as Dean stalked over.

"Dean...long time no see," the Crossroads Demon smiled.

I glanced between them in confusion, feeling uneasy about their familiarity. Dean ignored her and I gasped when he grabbed my arm, beginning to pull me toward the Impala. It took a moment for the shock to wear off, but once it did, I sunk my heels into the gravel.

"Dean," I gritted out, "Let go."

Dean's jaw was set as he glared down at me, but I wasn't going to let him treat me like a ragdoll. After everything he had put me through these last several days, I was truly fed up. I didn't have to worry about being left behind by him anymore because I had options.

I actually enjoyed travelling with them and saving lives, but Dean had said it himself—I wasn't a Hunter. If I couldn't have that kind of life, then I would take my old one back. Although I was hesitant to actually make the deal, I refused to be left behind in Forks to rot.

Not again, I thought.

"Get in the car, Bella," Dean ground out, his tone booking no argument.

"No."

"I will carry you if I have to," Dean threatened, an evil glint in his eye.

I glared up at him.

"I would advise against that," the Crossroads Demon spoke, her voice full of warning. "Bella's a big girl. She summoned me and if she wants to make a deal, then I won't let you interfere with that."

I stared at her, shocked that she was actually defending my right to make my own choices. While I knew that she was just interested in gaining my soul, it was still surprising, especially considering how many times the supposedly good guys had tried to make my decisions for me.

"As hot as that make-out session would be..."

My eyes widened when Dean pulled out his gun, aiming at the Crossroads Demon. She didn't even flinch at the introduction of a weapon, maintaining eye contact.

"Those bullets won't work on me," she pointed out with an amused smirk.

"No, but it'll be harder for you two to kiss with a face full of lead."

"Dean, stop it."

He kept his gaze focused on the Crossroads Demon, his finger resting purposefully on the trigger.

"I don't know what kind of crap deal you're trying to make," Dean said gruffly. "But I'm not gonna let you throw away your soul for a goddamn vampire."

I clenched my jaw and angrily ripped my arm out of his grasp.

"It's my soul. I'll do what I want with it," I gritted out.

I was so tired of everyone worrying so much over my soul—first Edward, now Dean.

"Oh, Dean. Such a hypocrite," the Crossroads Demon sighed, shaking her head.

I looked sharply at Dean, confusion momentarily overpowering my anger.

"What is she talking about?"

"Nothing," Dean muttered.

"Don't want Bella to know about the deal you made?"

"What? You made a deal?"

To say I was shocked was an understatement. Dean glared at the Crossroads Demon, but didn't deny it.

"You made a deal," I repeated, astonished. "And now you're trying to tell me I shouldn't?"

"It was different—"

"It's always different with you, isn't it?" I pointed out, bitterly. "It's okay for you to risk your life and make deals with Demons. But not for me, right? Because I'm not a Hunter?" I bit out. "Well you know what else I'm not? A child."

"Goddamn it Bella, just listen—"

"No. I'm done listening to you," I snapped. "You know, there's a difference between coddling someone and lashing out at them." Dean grimaced, realizing I had overheard his conversation with Sam. "All you've done since you found out about Edward is put me down and I'm sick of it."

Dean averted his gaze uncomfortably, but I kept going. I had remained mostly quiet about Dean's behavior, but now that I had broken that silence, I couldn't seem to stop.

"You have no idea what our relationship was like," I pointed out. "You want to know the truth?"

I took a deep breath, feeling a telltale prickle behind my eyes.

"He was good. He saved my life so many times. He even went against his own nature by feeding only on animals. And—" my voice cracked, "—he's the only one who ever made me feel special," I admitted quietly, shocked by that realization. "Like I wasn't just some freak."

Dean was quiet for a few moments, but when he finally did speak, he said the last thing I had expected from him.

"You're not a freak."

"Yeah...right," My laugh was shaky and lacked any real humor. "I'm such a freak that I keep driving everyone away. First Edward, then Jacob, and...then it'll be you and Sam."

I swallowed passed the lump in my throat, steeling myself.

"Well I'm not going to let you abandon me too," I spat the word. "I'll die before I let anyone leave me behind in Forks again."

I turned away from Dean, feeling like I had gotten a huge weight off of my chest, a new sense of resolve filling me. I meant what I said—regardless if it did sound a touch dramatic—and if this was the only way to get what I wanted, then so be it. I would rather spend ten years feeling loved than fifty all alone.

I had barely taken a step before Dean grabbed my arm again and I opened my mouth, prepared to tell him off. He used his grip to whip me back around and I squeaked as the momentum caused me to crash into his body. My protests died in my throat when Dean's mouth was suddenly covering mine.

It barely lasted a moment and my eyes remained opened wide the entire time, unable to believe what was actually happening. It felt like my brain had checked out by the time he retreated, leaving only one coherent thought.

"You kissed me," I breathed incredulously.

When had my breathing become so labored?

Although I was certain that he knew that, I couldn't stop myself from pointing it out. Despite being on the other end of said kiss, I couldn't quite believe it myself.

"Yes, I did," he nodded simply.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"You're not a freak," Dean replied seriously.

I raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"Okay, you are kind of a freak," he conceded. "But not in a bad way."

I frowned, uncertain of how being a freak could ever be considered good.

"One minute you're just this...mousy girl...and in the next, you're firing my shotgun at a ghost like a badass," Dean tried to explain, his tone beginning to sound as bewildered as I felt.

I continued to stare at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying to me.

"Look...I'm not good at this emotional crap."

"Obviously," I replied without thinking. "You kissed me. To...make a point?"

I was certain that if I wasn't so shocked, I would feel very angry over that. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Don't try to pretend you didn't enjoy it," Dean smirked, waggling his eyebrows at me as he once again tried to make light of a tense situation with humor.

"You don't kiss people to make a point."

Dean scoffed. "What—would you have rather it been Donald Duck?"

"I didn't—I didn't need anyone to kiss me!"

I was beginning to question whether any of this had been real—this conversation was too ridiculous to actually be happening.

"You're mooning over a vampire—obviously you haven't been kissed enough."

"I'm not—" I broke off, finally registering what he had said a few moments ago. "Donald Duck?" I repeated.

Suddenly, we were both laughing and although I recognized that none of our problems had really been solved, I felt the tension begin to melt away. I could barely stand under the weight of my own giggles and Dean continued to chuckle much the same—our laughter fueling the other's when we tried to calm down.

Although I had been bothered by Dean's distance, I didn't realize how much I had missed this—the banter and laughter. It wasn't until much later that I noticed the Crossroads Demon had gone and I was uncertain of how long we had been alone. I was too emotionally exhausted to give it much thought, though later I would wonder why she had disappeared after warning Dean not to interfere.

I watched Dean dig up the box and tried not to think too much about the kiss or how his fingers brushed mine when he handed me my license.

...

After picking up Sam and receiving a stern talking to for running off—it appeared that Dean had neglected to tell Sam where he had found me, much to my relief—we found ourselves once again sitting at a table in a local diner.

"The Demon must've switched bodies when Donald went to the bathroom," Sam was saying. "There was a call about someone finding a dead body that matched Bella's description in one of the stalls. It's a good thing you left when you did. There were cops swarming the place."

"How's Donny?" I asked, unable to deny my curiosity, though I was a little worried to hear the answer.

"He's fine," Sam assured me. "A little shaken up, but the Demon wasn't in him long enough to cause any lasting damage."

I nodded, absently picking at my food as I thought about the last time I had seen Donald. Although watching him writhe in agony had been terrible, I was beginning to wonder if I had overreacted. After all, though it had been Donald's body twisting in pain, it wasn't really him, right?

"So...the um," I hesitated, "the holy water and the...ritual...they didn't...hurt him?" I asked quietly, already cringing over what the answer might be.

"No," Sam replied gently. "Those only hurt the Demon."

I sighed in relief, feeling my shoulders sag. I realized that part of the reason I had been so bothered by the brothers' actions was due to my own guilt for not trying to stop them. Learning that none of it had actually caused Donald pain was a huge load off of my mind.

I was still worried about Edward—there was no way I couldn't be after tonight—but I hoped that maybe Dean had actually listened to what I said in that clearing. Although the way Edward had left all of those months ago had been very cold, he wasn't evil.

I hadn't gone through with the deal, but perhaps I would have if I hadn't been so thoroughly shocked by Dean's actions. I didn't think so though, not when there was so much uncertainty. Although regaining Edward's loving presence that way had been very tempting, there was a distinct possibility that it would have led to his death if I did.

I remembered the way Laurent had looked—frozen in shock, his gaze the only part of him able to show his horror—as Sam and Dean burned him alive. Staying with the brothers would not only give me a feeling of purpose in my life, but would ensure that I would be present should they ever come across Edward or the Cullens.

...

I sat outside the motel room, leaning against the wall. It felt wonderful to be out of that dress and back into a baggy shirt and pajama pants, though I had to admit that wearing the former hadn't been as bad as I had thought it would be. Although I still preferred casual comfort to formal wear, I think that being the one in control of my outfit had made it a little easier to handle.

I took a deep breath, reflecting over what had happened tonight. As much as it pained me to notice Edward's voice was gone, I recognized that I might have overreacted a bit. It was a staggering realization to come to, but I shouldn't have run off.

I rubbed at my eyes, unsurprised to realize I was crying. I was grateful for the lack of heart-wrenching sobs I was used to in moments like this, though it didn't make the pain feel any less potent. It almost felt like I was losing him again, but not quite.

It was hard to focus on the loss of Edward's voice with the memory of Dean's kiss whirling through my thoughts. I knew that it hadn't meant anything—just a means to an end for him—but I couldn't stop thinking about my reaction.

I was shocked when he had kissed me, but then, I had felt that way with Jacob too. So, why hadn't I reacted the same? Why hadn't I felt overwhelmed by anger the way I had then? What was so different about Dean's kiss than the one Jacob had forced on me?

I stiffened when I heard Dean's door open and quickly wiped away my tears as he emerged. He glanced my way, freezing in surprise when he noticed me sitting there. I stared straight ahead, hoping to hide the fact that I had been crying.

I watched from the corner of my eye as Dean paused, obviously debating something, before seeming to come to some sort of decision. I tried to relax as he moved closer, not wanting him to notice my uneasiness when he sat down beside me.

We were silent for a long moment, before Dean decided to break it.

"What're you doing out here?"

"Getting some air." I flinched at the way my voice cracked. "You?"

"The same," he shrugged.

Silence descended again and I was reminded of the last time I had sat outside a motel room. Sam had been the one to keep me company then and although it had been a little different than this, I was struck with the similarities between them.

Despite how amicable things ended in the clearing, I found myself at a loss of what to say to him now. It was nice to have finally gotten all of those issues off of my chest, but now I was feeling uncomfortable with how much I had revealed.

I was also distinctly aware that he hadn't apologized for his behavior, though I supposed that he might have in his own way. I wasn't going to hold my breath for the actual words, at any rate. Still, it left me unsettled. I didn't know how to feel about what had happened tonight.

Was I relieved that Dean had stopped me from making that deal or disappointed? Would I have really been able to go through with it if he hadn't been there?

"What did you trade your soul for?" I asked, my voice soft.

Dean was quiet for so long that I had given up on receiving an answer when he finally spoke.

"Sam's life."

My head snapped towards him, too shocked to worry about hiding the evidence of my tears with that revelation. Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling loudly.

"He got stabbed. By this...this guy. I was too late. He died. In my arms. So...I made a deal to bring him back."

Dean spoke matter-of-factly, his words almost disjointed as his expression remained stoic.

I felt terrible then, both for the way I had reacted when the Crossroads Demon had mentioned Dean's deal and for my own selfish endeavors to trade my soul. Although my fear over Edward's safety had been part of what prompted me to flee to that clearing, he was right—his situation had been different.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but one look from Dean had me closing it. It was a look that said—don't. Although I felt guilty, I think I understood what he meant. He knew that I regretted the things I had said, the same way I knew that he had regretted his behavior toward me. Perhaps we didn't need to say the words.

Still, it felt unsettling to do nothing, so I decided to try something I probably wouldn't have if he hadn't already invaded my space earlier. I patted his shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting gesture, though I think it came across more awkward than anything.

I blushed as Dean quirked an eyebrow at me and quickly removed my hand. I let both my gaze and my hand fall into my lap, clearing my throat in embarrassment, already regretting my attempt at offering comfort.

My gaze snapped to him in surprise when he bumped my shoulder with his, an amused smile quirked on his lips. I found myself smiling back, not quite minding when his shoulder settled fully against mine and remained.

No, my problems hadn't really been solved tonight and I definitely wasn't alright with losing Edward's voice, but I didn't mind letting myself get distracted by Sam and Dean's surprisingly comforting presence.

...

This concludes the third episode. The next will be coming soon, as I've had most of it outlined for ages. Of course, that outline was among the many things I lost to the technical difficulties I mentioned last chapter, so it might take time for me to recreate it.

I should also warn you that since the Fall semester is about to start, it's unlikely that I will be able to maintain my weekly updates.

Characters:

-—Dean Winchester
-—Sam Winchester
-—Bella Swan

-Victim 1—Johnny Sheafing
-Victim 2—Cecile Frost
-Victim 3 (Potentially)—Donald Ketting (Don/Donny)
-Donald Ketting's Agent—Sandra
-Motel Clerk— Diana
-Demon—Unknown
-Crossroads Demon—Unknown