Guys! Four...more...days! Ugh, I'm gathering everything I'm going to need for season 9 premier. Blankets (a lot of them), popcorn, candy of some sort, remote, and tissues...lots and lots of tissues. Ok...ok...breath...
Ahem, anyways I couldn't sleep so you all get to benefit from my insomnia! New chapter! We get to move right into one of my favorite episodes of season 4 at the end of this chapter! And...you know that whole Chuck is God thing? And then there was that weird dude Bill who we haven't seen in like forever? Well, I'm not saying but I am saying...something is up...and a lot of you were right...ahem, okay I'll stop talking :) love you all!
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural...I only own Melody...
Sam led Melody and Dean through the dark hallways of floor fourteen. There wasn't really much on the floor. It was dusty, empty and quiet…way too quiet. Melody thought that this whole thing was just going to be a bust, not worth their time. But when they heard a loud crash and the piercing cry of a man in pain, they ran around the corner to find room 1444.
Melody tried the door, gripping the cold handle and shaking the wood, but the door would not budge or give an inch. "Hang on." Sam said, gently pulling her behind him. When she was a safe distance away, Sam took a half step back and then slammed his foot into the wooden door, kicking it open with one fluid motion.
"Whoa…"
"Damn…" Dean and Melody stared at Sam's sudden burst of strength in slight awe. Sam shrugged it off; it was probably one of those adrenaline things. Setting aside the incredible display of strength, all three went into the room finding a man buried underneath a fallen metal shelf with papers and folders thrown around him.
Melody went around to stand next to Sam, ready to pull the man out as soon as there was an opening. The boys hardly lifted the shelf an inch before a ghost—the very same one Dean and Melody had seen earlier—appeared behind Dean. He barely had time to register the frightened yelp of surprise from Melody before he felt himself being grabbed by the shoulders and thrown backwards.
The ghost backhanded Melody across the face and she fell clumsily next to the fallen shelves. She heard Sam grunt in pain as he too was thrown backwards, falling face-first onto the dusty wooden floor. Melody glanced up and saw the ghost stepping towards her and the victim. She panicked, started to push on the shelf the best she could but nothing was happening. "Come on!" she grunted in frustration and anger. And before she knew it she felt her anger completely take over her senses. Everything became heightened. She could hear better, smell better, and her sight was so clear she could see the dust particles flying through the air.
She groaned, pushed against the shelf and felt her fingers starting to dig into the metal. That made her freeze. How the hell was she doing that?
Dean leaned up from the floor, feeling a number of fresh bruises already forming on his back and shoulders. But he ignored the pain. Right now, Melody was trying to get the shelf off of the victim and she was completely ignoring the fact that she was putting herself in danger. The ghost was standing right above her and the victim, electricity dancing across its fingertips.
Sam saw it too. As he slowly picked himself up off the floor, he saw the ghost leaning down to touch the metal of shelf. And when he did that…anyone touching that metal would be shocked, electrocuted, fried—and he would not let that happen to Melody.
"No!" he screamed, pure fear and instinct taking over his body at the thought of Melody getting killed. Sam made to run for Melody, but by the time he was half way there…he knew it was already too late. That's when he heard a loud roar and a deep, alarmed voice cry out,
"Mels!"
He looked up, saw Dean reach out and grab at the first weapon his fingers could find and stand up swinging at the ghost. The wrench Dean had picked was obviously the right choice, because as soon as the metal of the wrench touched the ghost…it vanished.
The room went silent again, all three people panting from the adrenaline rush. Melody groaned again, feeling her anger completely wash away as she stood up to get a better angle on the shelf. She glanced up; saw Dean and Sam staring at her with pure worry etched on their features. Melody huffed and gestured to the shelf impatiently,
"You gonna help me or what?"
Sam and Dean sprang into action, resuming their positions on either side of the shelf while Melody bent down and placed her hands underneath the victim's arms. The boys grunted as they lifted the shelf up and Melody pulled the man out. When he was safe and on his feet, the boys dropped the heavy shelf.
The man who had almost been killed obviously didn't want to stay in the room any longer. He gave the three people a hasty thank you before sprinting out of the door and down the hall. Melody bent down, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath for a second.
"How'd you know how to do that?" Sam asked Dean, pointing down to the fallen wrench on the floor. Dean just shrugged,
"I have no idea."
Melody stood up straight, thinking back to what had happened when she'd tried to pull off the shelf on her own. Was that one of those adrenaline high things people always talk about? But…when Melody actually looked at the toppled shelf…she knew it was completely different. The metal had been bent, twisted and reformed where she'd been holding onto it before. She stared down at her hands—not a scratch or any mark on them.
"What…" she panted, "the…hell…"
Melody nervously twisted her fingers together and kept her eyes downcast. And all she could think at the moment? Shit…shit and…shit.
After their incident with the ghost, herself, Sam and Dean had all gone back to Dean's apartment and researched everything they could find on the history of the building. They even found a website with real ghost hunters, the Ghostfacers. They had an instructional video on how to take down ghosts and everything.
She grinned thinking back to the two nerds in the video. And…she had to admit that they were kind of cute in a super nerdy way. She bit back a giggle; there was just something about awkward, nerdy and really sweet guys that really got to her. Maybe it had something to do with that guy she'd dreamt about. She didn't mention those dreams to anyone. But they could hardly be called dreams anyway. She would just see a face, a really blurry face but a face nonetheless. Even his voice had been muffled. But…something told her she knew him. And in her dreams she'd tried to get a better look at him, but every time she got closer and closer to him—he would vanish or her dream would turn into nightmares. And the nightmares would consist of flashes—almost like memories—of herself and two other men fighting and killing and running…and crying. She always saw so many tears coming from her and the other two.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she returned her attention to the two men standing next to her. She slowly moved a little bit closer to Sam—not wanting to get too close to the other figure standing in the elevator. Melody inwardly sighed, thinking back to their search of the office, but they hadn't found even a scrap. They needed to burn Sandover's body, and unfortunately Sandover had been cremated but the Ghostfacers video said that sometimes pieces of DNA are left behind, and that's how the ghosts are still able to stick around. So, herself, Dean and Sam were currently in Sandover's former office—room 1444—searching for any little piece of P.T. Sandover.
Melody glanced over at Sam before moving her eyes back to the elevator floor sheepishly. They had—unfortunately—been caught digging through room 1444. Dean hadn't been caught thankfully. It was just Melody and Sam standing inside the elevator waiting for it to reach the bottom floor. Melody felt her heart pound in her chest. This could not be happening. She was sure to lose her job now. She silently prayed that something would get the guard distracted and give her and Sam enough time to get away.
The elevator began its decent downwards and Melody watched the digital numbers countdown, 14…13…12…11—but they flickered off and on. The small television used to display the weather report blinked and static danced across the screen. Melody immediately tensed up, instinctually reaching out to take hold of Sam's arm. The room went from normal temperature to freezing cold. All three people standing in the elevator watched their breath escape their mouths in white puffs.
"Sam…" Melody whispered moving closer to him. He barely had time to look down at her before the elevator jerked and rumbled, sending its occupants nearly falling over. Melody let out a quick yelp of surprise; catching herself on the far wall of the elevator and feeling her ankles give out for a second. She inwardly grumbled down at her heels. She suddenly hated them—but she could remember loving them earlier.
Once the elevator came to a slow halt, the security guard went for the controls, pressing the buttons frantically. When those didn't work, he took out his master key, opening up the elevator doors. He moved to open up the outside doors that would lead them to the hallway, grunting with the effort.
"Well, come on." He said staring out at the hall. Melody gaped at him and saw Sam quickly shake his head,
"What?" he asked, tense and feeling Melody was just as tense as him. The guard looked back at the two,
"Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here."
Melody nodded her head hastily, "Good—let's just wait." The guard gave her a look, ignoring her obvious trepidation and turned back to the open door. He grunted, lifting himself up into the hall, his keys clinking the whole time. But, every time the guy moved, Melody stepped further away from the doors. She just had this horrible feeling that something was going to happen. Again, she reached out for Sam's arm and gripped it tightly. The elevator groaned with their movement—but the doors remained open.
Finally, the guard was safely in the hall and he turned back only to find the two trespassers hold out their hands and shake their heads. Sam took another step back—though he was already pressed up against the wall. "Seriously," he tried to grin, "we'll wait."
The guard rolled his eyes and obviously got annoyed. He fumed, stuck his head into the elevator and pointed harshly at the two, "Look I don't have the rest of my life here—"
He wasn't able to finish. The elevator gave way, doors slamming together. And before Melody or Sam could even begin to register what exactly had happened, they saw the guard's body literally get sliced in half and felt blood splatter all over their shirts and faces.
Melody threw up her hands, mouth pinching shut, eyes squeezed together. Sam had done basically the same thing as her, only he'd kept his hands at his sides, clenching them into fists. Melody heard Sam gasp and opened up her eyes, then let out a piecing scream,
"Jesus fucking Christ!"
Sam led Melody around the corner. After they'd tried to clean up as much of the blood off their faces—leaving several stains on their clothes and even a few blotches in Melody's hair—they'd called Dean and he'd told them to meet him on floor twenty-two.
"Whoa." Dean stared at them both, "That's a lot of blood."
Melody frowned at her shirt which was now completely ruined, "Don't ask."
"Right. Uh, in there." Dean said after a moment, not wanting to know where all of the blood had come from. Instead he pointed at the wall they were standing next to. It was a wall showing off the many bridges the company had made and there were a few display cases of important historical items related to the company. One in particular, about waist high was what Dean was pointing to.
"P.T. Sandover's gloves." Sam read the inscription out loud seeing Dean nod,
"How much you want to bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there?"
Melody bent down to get a closer look at the gloves, "Yeah like, maybe a fingernail clipping or a hair or two—something."
"So, you ready?" Sam asked them but only got pauses from his new companions. Melody bit her lip, crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. She honestly had no answer for that.
Dean sighed as well, staring down at the gloves intently, "I have no idea."
"Me neither." Sam shrugged. They shook off their anxious fears and bent down to the small bag of supplies they'd pulled together. The boys grabbed two iron fire pokers from the bag while Melody picked up the salt and lighter.
All three stood up straight and Melody knew that it was now or never. "Alright—go for it." She said, gripping the salt tightly in her hand. Dean nodded, pulled back his arm and slammed the fire poker into the display case. It shattered, glass shards falling all over the floor around them. Melody bent down to reach for the gloves, but froze…the air had grown deathly cold, her breath escaping her mouth in white puffs.
Melody stood back up, glancing between Dean and Sam, "Oh…cra—ahh!" she screamed, suddenly feeling herself flying backwards. Melody landed hard on her back on the floor, skidding a few feet before she knocked her head against the wall. There was a loud thud as her skull met the wall and Melody groaned, feeling dazed as her vision began to swim.
"Mels!" Dean cried starting to run over to her, that same instinct kicking in. He knew he needed to protect her. It was his job. She was…well he didn't exactly know what she was to him. His personal assistant, or as he liked to call it, personal babysitter. But…no that wasn't right. No she was so much more than that. For some reason, he knew she liked apple pie the best, and her favorite band was Led Zeppelin, and she secretly loved the movie Pride and Prejudice, and her favorite book was this lame kid's book she read when she was twelve…what was it? Oh yeah, Artemis Fowl. Dean knew within a flash of a second that she was the only person he'd ever met who actually believed that fairies were real—even though she'd never met one. He knew she could sing along to every single Disney movie from memory, He knew she liked cats and always wanted one. He knew she hated the smell of lavender. He knew that she was secretly afraid of the dark.
And he knew he didn't want her to die.
But that couldn't be true. No he'd only met the girl three weeks ago when they first started working together. They never talked outside of work; they never talked about anything but work. But…that raw, undying feeling of pure protectiveness, the absolute need to get her safe now was too overwhelming and as he blindly ran for her, he never saw the ghost of Sandover flicker into existence in front of him before it was too late. Sandover threw Dean backwards, where he crashed roughly into the far wall face first. Dean groaned falling over and feeling a fresh cut on the top of his head.
Sam had watched the entire thing. He watched Melody get thrown backwards, watched Dean get tossed aside like they were both made out of paper. Sam felt pure, unwavering fear crawl up his spine as he watched his two companions struggle to stand. And all those dreams flashed through his mind again. But they were the good ones this time. And this one in particular, always stood out as the best to him.
He saw the blonde girl laughing on a bed, falling over, clutching her stomach as happy tears fell down her cheeks. He felt that he should be laughing just as hard as her too from the emotions the dream created. He heard a deep male voice groan from the other room and saw the door open revealing a brightly lit, cheap motel bathroom. The guy who came out of the bathroom had the brightest pink lipstick smeared across his chin and jaw, dark, black shadows covered his eye lids and bright red blush was slapped messily onto his cheeks. The blonde stared at him before letting out another wave of laughter, which only cause dream Sam to do the same. And before he knew it, dream Sam and the blonde were being chased through a dark parking lot by the other man as he screamed profanity after profanity at them.
The dream flashed away and before Sam could even blink let alone register what he'd just seen—he felt a pair of cold, icy hands shoving him away. Sam flew through the air, landing hard on his back and sliding to the floor. Sandover stared down at him, menacing and angry. He lifted his hand, electricity dancing over his worn fingertips. He stalked closer and closer to Sam who clumsily reached for his iron weapon. But he'd dropped it and it had slid away from his grasp.
Melody leaned up, finally coming out of her daze. She glanced over; saw Dean struggling to get up from the floor on one side of the room and on the other side…Sam was backed up into the wall with Sandover creeping up on him. No, no she would not let that happen. It was her job to keep these two morons alive. And much like Dean and Sam, she felt that instinct consume her body. An ounce of unknown strength took over Melody as she stood up quickly, gripped the salt in her hands and ran over to the ghost.
"Sammy!" Melody panted, gripping the now half empty bottle of salt in her hands, letting the top fall to the ground. With the ghost gone for now, she bent down towards Sam holding out a hand for him. "You alright?"
"Yeah…" he nodded weakly, standing up to his full height. They both heard a low groan and looked over to find Dean getting up from the floor, a small cut on the top of his head.
"Nice!" Dean called out to them, grinning the whole time. He watched his companions nod and grin as well, but their faces quickly fell as Sam called out,
"Dean!" He bent down, picked up his fallen iron weapon and threw it across the room to Dean who immediately caught it. And picking up on where both Sam and Melody's eyes were looking, he knew where Sandover would be. Dean gripped his weapon in two hands, turned and swung hard in a large swooping arch.
"Wow…nice catch." Melody commented, that stupid grin on her face again. Dean smirked back, staring down and admiring his new weapon,
"Right?"
Sam moved to take up the other iron fire poker, standing with his back to Dean. Melody stood a few feet from them, gripping the can of salt firmly and watching every single movement that was made in the room. She blinked, saw Sandover flicker into existence again in between the boys and called out,
"Guys!" Dean and Sam reacted quickly, turning and swiping the ghost away. Sandover disappeared, and then reappeared again behind Dean, then Sam who saw Melody react as well. Both threw out their weapons hoping to get rid of the ghost again. Only when Sam swung his weapon, and when Melody threw out the rest of her salt…Sandover had disappeared again.
"Where the…" Melody grimaced searching for the ghost. She barely noticed Sandover flicker into existence behind Sam before she saw him getting thrown across the room, landing where she'd been lying several seconds earlier. Melody—now with now weapon—caught eyes with the ghost, tried to back away and failed. Sandover threw out his hand, shooting Melody into the wall again where she landed on the floor next to Sam.
Dean turned, caught sight of Sam and Melody on the floor and then Sandover before he felt the ghost shove him hard down the length of the long hallway. Dean's back slammed into the wall and he fell to the ground feeling all of the air escape his lungs in one quick breath. Sandover loomed over him, mouth set in a permanent frown, eyes dark and unfeeling.
Melody stood up on shaking legs from the floor, "Sam! The gloves! Go!" she ordered reaching down and grabbing up the iron fire poker. She saw Sam out of the corner of her eye run over to the display case, but he would get it done in time. Sandover was literally inches from shocking Dean to death. And Melody wouldn't be able to run that distance that fast.
"Please work," she mumbled, gripping the iron poker in one hand. She held up the weapon to her nose, pointing it horizontally, holding out her other hand to help her aim. Melody took a half step back, bit her lip and then took a few quick steps before releasing the poker. Letting out a quick, loud roar, she poured every ounce of her strength into the throw. She watched the iron poker sail through the air like a javelin, twisting as it arched and got closer and closer to her target until…
CRASH!
The iron poker soared right through Sandover, sticking itself into the wall and whatever cheap glass photograph had been there. Melody let out a small sound of triumph, knowing she'd just saved Dean's life. Dean looked up at the fire poker which was buried deep into the wall and then over to Melody. He grinned, impressed at her athleticism. Only his grin turned into a deep frown when he saw Sandover's form standing directly behind her, reaching out his hand to touch her exposed neck.
"No!" he screamed, shooting up from the floor. Melody looked over her shoulder, now seeing the ghost and now realizing how close he was to her skin. She started to move, started trying to just get away, only to feel a sudden surge of heat behind her. Melody covered her face, took several steps away from the heat and looked back to find Sandover's ghost quickly burst into flames and puff away and Sam standing over the now burning leather gloves.
A large, genuine smile crossed over her features and Melody wanted to just run over and hug Sam. But she stopped herself. She didn't know him that well. Instead she panted, feeling the drain of energy and looked back down the hall to find Dean leaning heavily against the wall.
"Holy…shit…" Melody panted, smile never leaving her face. Sam let out a short laugh and looked between her and Dean,
"That was amazing!"
"Right?" Dean answered standing up from the wall, smiling just as wide as they were. He laughed, and heard the other laugh with him, "Right?"
After staring at each other, laughing and grinning, Melody announced that they should start to clean up. It probably wouldn't look too good with all their crap lying around the office. They picked up in silence, though each felt equally as awesome as the other. Soon, the hallway was cleaned and Dean brought them to his office where he pulled out a small medical kit. Melody immediately took it from his hands, having him sit at the desk while she gently dabbed at the cut on Dean's head.
"Man I got to tell you," Dean grinned glancing between the two people in his office, "I've never had so much fun in my life."
He missed the deeply thoughtful gaze Melody and Sam exchanged. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing. Sam saw that she was trying not to think it and he was too but…he just couldn't stop. He shrugged, "Me neither."
"It was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?" Dean asked him, enthusiastic smile never leaving his face. Sam had a feeling Melody wouldn't say what she was thinking, so he decided to be the one instead.
"We should keep doing this."
Dean chuckled as Melody set down the small cotton ball and stood in front of them, "I know."
"I mean it." Sam persisted, "There got to be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people."
"Yeah, right." Dean smirked, "We'd be like the Ghostfacers."
"Dean," Melody said, arms crossed over her stomach, "I think he means really. Like…for real."
Her boss just chuckled at her, "What? Quit our jobs and hit the road?" Melody slowly nodded while Sam was a bit more animated,
"Exactly."
Dean scoffed, "How would we live?" He watched Sam struggle for an answer and spoke again when the guy couldn't come up with one. "Come on you've got to be kidding me. How would we get by—with stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?"
"That's all just details." Sam insisted but Dean wouldn't hear it,
"Details are everything! You don't want to go fighting ghosts without any health insurance."
All three fell into a slightly tense silence. Melody hadn't really said much at all. She was honestly afraid of what she'd say. She couldn't piss off her boss, as much as they'd "bonded" tonight; he still had the power to fire her. And she did not need that right now.
After a quick second of silence, Sam cleared his throat and sighed, "Alright…confession time."
"What?" Dean asked, almost afraid to find out the answer. Sam looked between him and Melody,
"Remember those dreams I told you about, with the ghosts?" After he got a "yeah" and "sure" from the others he continued, "I was fighting them…with…you two. We were these like…hunters. And we were friends. More like a family, really."
Melody had cast her eyes away, afraid because…well…she'd been feeling something like that as well. They weren't exactly because of dreams. But the way she'd been fighting to protect Dean and Sam, the way they'd both fought to protect her and each other—that screamed family to her. Not just three people with a common interest.
Sam continued, "I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. Th-the ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?"
"That's insane." Dean said, standing up to pace. Sam wouldn't stop and kept going.
"Is it?" He asked and started speaking rapidly, hands moving wildly, "Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life…but it's not?"
Dean had moved behind his desk, sitting on the large window sill he shrugged his shoulders, "Hey man the ghost is dead, and we're still standing. Look I'm sorry but—"
"All I know is," Sam's voice rose in pitch as he stood from the desk and turned to face Dean, "this isn't who we're supposed to be."
"No." Melody watched her boss as he pointed to himself, "I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of sales and marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo."
"When's the last time you talked to them?" Sam asked, tossing out his arms, "To any of them?"
Melody stared at the floor, completely staying out of the conversation. Luckily, neither Sam nor Dean took notice of how quiet she'd gone and Dean stood up from his spot, shaking his head. "Okay. You're upset. You're upset, you're confused—"
"Yeah, cause I only moved here cause I just broke up with my fiancé Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital."
Dean stared up at him, slightly confused, "Okay, what are you saying? Y-you trying to say that—that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on!"
Sam's jaw hitched, "All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that, deep down, you and Mel have got to be feeling it too."
Melody swallowed hard, thankful that neither of the men looked at her. Sam let out a short breath, "We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douche bag. Mel isn't just some office drone who follows orders—guys…this isn't either of you. I know you—both of you." Melody literally had to bite her tongue. She wouldn't cry, not in front of her boss, not in front of him.
She heard Dean scoff, "Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go." Sam, defeated, tried to get Melody to say something but she wouldn't. She just sucked in her lip and stared at the floor. She watched Sam leave, watched as he didn't look back, and watched him walk out of her life.
She must have been standing in the same spot for a while because she heard Dean call out to her, "Miss West. Go home, get some sleep. I'll see you in a few hours."
"No." Melody shook her head, glancing up from the floor at him. He seemed slightly surprised; her voice had grown ten times more demanding than he'd ever heard. Dean stared at her, blinked several times and leaned down on his desk,
"What?"
"I said, no." Her voice shook slightly, but it wasn't out of fear or hurt, it was out of conviction. Melody uncrossed her arms, stood to her full height in front of his desk and stared him directly in the eyes. "My name…is not Melody West."
Dean scoffed, "Okay…then what is your name?"
Melody stepped back, throwing up her hands and shrugging, "I don't know. But I just know it's not my name—in fact, it's the dumbest name I've ever heard in my life."
Her boss stood up as well, pointing to where Sam had just been standing, "Mels, don't let him get to you. Come on, you know he was just talking crazy."
"You see, my whole life, nobody has called me that. "Mels"…yeah, never." She watched him, bright hazel eyes shining with more and more confidence. "Do you want to know what my memories are? I remember being an orphan. According to my memories, I grew up on the streets and in between foster homes. Nobody ever liked me, and I never liked them either. I fought and worked my ass off to get here. And when I finally get to the top…I end up working for the biggest asshole this entire company had to offer."
Dean was shocked. She'd never once talked to him like this. Where the hell was this coming from? And…he was speechless. He didn't know what to say back to her, so he just kept quiet while she continued.
"But I'm like him," she gestured to where Sam had once stood, "I feel it. I'm not supposed to be this." Melody looked down at her clothes, "This isn't me. I mean, I hate pink! I never wear pink—I would never even paint my nails pink! And you know what else?"
She reached back and started tugging at her hair, "I don't wear bows!" She ripped the fabric from her hair letting it fall on its own accord and tossed the frilly pink fabric onto his desk. "I don't wear bows! I don't wear heels! I don't wear skirts! I don't…"
Melody trailed off, reigning in her vehement rant. She flicked her eyes over everything, "I'm not an orphan. I-I know I'm an orphan but I know that I'm not an orphan. I…I have brothers. Two…brothers. And…and I'm in the middle. We're all two years apart…we all like chocolate cake…and the three of us can eat bacon with anything." Tears started to pool at the edges of her eyes, but Melody just smiled as more and more memories poured through her mind.
"I…I'm not this." She looked at her clothes again, "I'm not a P.A.—I'm not…I'm not Melody West. And you," she breathed out finally looking up at her boss again, "you're not my…boss. You're not this. You're not you. I'm supposed to be your sister not whoever that was—"
"Stop it." Dean ordered, voice going deep and quivering. "You are not my sister. I met you three weeks ago when I hired you."
"But I am!" Melody persisted, shaking her hands between herself and Dean, "I can feel it! Don't tell me that you don't feel it! You know it's true!"
"Miss West, please stop this now—"
"No! My name isn't Melody West! I told you!" She screamed, slamming her hands onto his desk. Dean just spoke over her, ignoring her outburst.
"Leave my office before I call security Miss West."
"Go ahead!" She shouted again, this time her conviction turned to anger, "But don't you dare stand there and tell me you don't feel it! Don't you dare lie to my face Dean!"
They both stared at each other for a long, tense second. Dean's jaw worked, his eyes registered nothing to her. Melody couldn't read his features at all. But that wasn't right. Because she knew she could. He spoke again finally, though his voice never became louder than a normal tone as he spoke calmly to her,
"It's Mr. Smith. And you will leave my office, or I will be forced to let you go."
Melody literally saw red. Her temper flared and she grabbed the first thing her eyes fell on—the open medical kit. She picked it up and threw it to the floor, hearing it crash and seeing its contents fly everywhere. She was breathing hard, barely controlling her wrath as her chest heaved up and down. Her jaw clenched, hands balled into fists tightly at her sides. Melody stared at him, stared at his face and tried to wipe away all the alarm bells going off in her head that kept saying "not like this" over and over. But her temper was speaking for her now. And she'd basically said it all with her display.
She breathed in and out harshly through her nose, "I…quit." Her jaw trembled as she held back all of her fury, speaking the words through gritted teeth at him. "And when you have those doubts—because I know you will—I hope you think about me…your real sister."
And just like that, she turned and stormed out of her life, going off to wherever she could escape to. Melody got into the elevator, slammed the button for the lobby and waited impatiently for the lift to stop. When it did, she barreled past the doors and the guards and the janitors and out the front doors. She came to the sidewalk and nearly stumbled when her heel dug into one of the cracks in the concrete.
"Fucking…shoes!" she screamed, bending down and ripping off the delicate pink heels. She fumed, threw them down to the ground and felt an ounce of satisfaction when the heels snapped off. Melody ignored the onlookers and huffed, walking past them all and down the street. She wouldn't get far, before she felt a pair of strong hands grab hold of her and pull her aside into an empty alley.
Melody nearly screamed, only it was stopped by a hand clamping down over her mouth. The skin was incredibly warm, calloused and gentle all at once. She smelled rain and wet grass, something that made her heart flutter and relax. She fought against whoever was holding her though, afraid that some creep had just pulled her off the street for…God knows what.
She tried to elbow him in the stomach, tried to kick her bare feet around, tried to do something, but whoever this person was…they were incredibly strong. "Melody." She finally heard a deep, rough, smooth voice speak in her ear. And before she could blink, the man holding her had flipped her around, slammed her back against the wall and was gripping her forehead.
Gasping from both surprise and fear, she made to move away from him again but as soon as his hand was against her head…everything seemed to blur for a second before becoming clear again and…
Melody Winchester popped open her eyes, finding herself and Castiel standing in a dark alleyway off of a busy street. She blinked, remembering everything that had just happened and then finally looked up at him. "Cas…" she breathed out, shoulders visibly relaxing at the sight of him. "Holy shit—Cas you're here."
She jumped up from the wall, wrapping her arms around his neck, relieved to see him again. It felt like a lifetime since she'd last laid eyes on him. "You have no idea what I've been through. I-I think something put a spell on us. I feel like I've been here for at least three weeks."
"That's because you have been." He answered, reaching up and gently pulling her away from him. At her confused stare he backed away from her and started to explain as best he could. "My superior, Zachariah, put you and your brothers here. He sought to teach Dean a…lesson."
"Lesson?" Melody glanced at her clothes, inwardly grimaced at them and looked back up at Castiel, "What the fuck kind of lesson is—um…sorry." she mumbled, covering her mouth for a brief moment, "I feel like I haven't cursed in a good three weeks."
"That's because you haven't."
Melody had to laugh at his deadpanned expression. And the fact that he was completely serious about it. She wondered how her brothers were dealing with realizing where they'd all been for the past three…
"Oh shit!" Melody screamed, running pass Castiel to the edge of the alleyway, "I need to get to Sam and Dean! Oh…fuck I just yelled at Dean for no reason!" Melody ran a nervous hand through her hair, stared at the street hoping she'd see one of her moron brothers out there but neither showed up. She took a step out of the alley, moving to go back to the Sandover building but froze. She looked back over her shoulder at Cas, seeing his stiff form watching her closely. Melody smiled at him, felt a surge of bravery course through her—possibly stemmed from the urgency of wanting to find her brothers—and ran back to him. She tossed her arms lazily around his neck and held tightly.
"Thanks featherhead." She grinned, not really caring that he didn't hold her back and quickly released him turning and running back out of the alley and down the street.
Castiel watched her go, longing for her to be close to him again. No—he squashed whatever that was out of his mind. Zachariah was near, he couldn't be expressing emotions when his superior was so close, and when Heaven was watching his every move. He glanced down at the hand he'd used to cover up Melody's mouth with. There was a smudge of glitter on the palm of his hand where her lips had been pressed against.
His vessel felt warm again—too warm. What were these things running through his head? Why did he not want her to go? Why did he not want her to release the hold she'd had on him? Why hadn't he been brave enough to hold her back? Castiel stared at the smudge on his hand…it was nothing. It was just the vessel. And he kept repeating these things to himself over and over as he quickly wiped the smudge from his hand and disappeared from sight.
Grant O'Neil flipped through the work schedule. They only had a few guys working at the comic store, but trying to figure out the hours was a bitch. He wished they could hire on someone else. Maybe a girl…
The bell above to door jingled, and Grant looked up to find two men both dressed in nice suits and coats walk up to the counter he was sitting behind. "Uh…can I help you?" Grant asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"Sure hope so." The shorter of the two said and both, in practiced unison pulled out a pair of FBI badges, "Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions."
The tall one put away his badge, "Notice anything strange in the building last couple of days?"
Grant shrugged, "Like what?"
"Well," pretty boy began explaining, "some other tenants reported flickering lights."
"Uh...I don't think so, why?"
"What about noises?" Agent Shaw kept pressing, "Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?"
Grant felt his brow crease, "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"
Shaw ignored his questions, "What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?"
And that's when it hit him. That's when Grant realized why these two were so damn familiar. "I knew it!" he cried out in triumph, pointing at them and grinning, "You guys are larping aren't you?"
"Excuse me?" DeYoung questioned but Grant just grinned wider.
"You're fans."
"Fans of what?"
"What is "Larping"?"
Grant chuckled, "Like you don't know." When he saw they didn't he explained, "Live action role playing. And pretty hardcore, too. Except you seem to be missing—"
"There you two are!" The bell above the door jingled and a beautiful blonde girl stomped harshly into the store. She walked up to stand between the two guys dressed in fairly casual clothes compared to them, and reached up smacking both across the back of the head. "I told you to call me! Freaking morons!"
Pretty boy backed away from her and shook his hands, "Just…hang on a sec."
Grant laughed fully, "Wow you guys are good!"
The girl stared at him with a fierce gaze, "Excuse me? What are you talking about?"
"You two are asking questions like the buildings haunted, and then she comes in and is all ordering you two around when she's really just been worried—like those three siblings from the books." Grant explained and tried to rack his memory, "What are they called uh…"Supernatural"."
All three stared at him with dumbfounded expressions. Grant tried explaining some more, "Two guys, fake I.D.s with rock aliases, have a kick-ass sister, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh…Steve, Dirk and…Maddie? No uh…Sal, Dane and Mal?"
The tallest of the three glanced at his friends, "Sam…Dean and…Melody…?"
Grant smiled, "Yeah, that's it!"
"Wait, wait." The girl waved her hands in front of her face, "You're saying this is a book?"
"Books actually. It was a series." Grant grinned when he saw the details the girl had put into her costume. The necklace, the bracelet…everything. "Didn't sell a lot of copies though. Kind of had more of an underground-cult following."
He stood up, moving to the back of the store and all Melody could do was stare at her brothers with wide, fearful eyes. "What…the hell?" she mouthed the Sam who just looked confused. They followed the clerk to a pile of books where he searched for a minute before pulling out a copy, claiming that it was the first one.
Melody leaned over Dean's shoulder to get a look at the cover. It read, "Supernatural by Carver Edlund". There were three people on the cover. The closest to the spine of the book must have been Dean. The guy had short hair, wore a biker vest and jeans and carried what looked like a bag of salt on his shoulder. The second guy didn't even have a shirt on; instead his long flowing hair blew in the wind while he gripped a shotgun in his hands. Both men in the artwork were overly beefed up with muscle and had brooding expressions on the faces.
But the girl…that made Melody want to toss the book across the room. The girl was leaning seductively against the car—obviously the Impala. She had on a pair of daisy duke shorts, black biker boots and a deep red tube top with her breasts nearly escaping the confines of the fabric. Her hair was blowing away from her face in long, blonde waves as one of her hands snaked through the tresses and the other lightly held a knife against her exposed stomach.
Dean flipped the book over and read the back out loud, "Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."
Sam grabbed the book from his hands, "Give me that." Melody stared at the floor…what the hell. She glanced at the book, felt a chill crawl across her skin and then turned her harsh gaze onto the clerk.
"We're gonna need all the copies of "Supernatural" you've got."
Sorry there wasn't as much Cas in this chapter guys, buuut that's just how it happened. I'll try and get more of him and Melody for the next chapter, promise :) there will still be loads and loads of sexual tension though, because I love it and you all secretly love it even though you say you hate it. And...I'm mean, but I still love you all :D
Review, fav and follow! Thanks for reading!