Previously: Seconds later Mel realized that it wasn't just her face that felt warm; the very air was beginning to heat, and she twisted her face slightly to look sideways across the floor as an orange glow began to rise up, reflecting against the lacquered surface of the fake wood paneling Mac had painstakingly maintained for years. Deeper and deeper, the orange glow became until the breath burned in Mel's chest and she could once again feel the oxygen being stolen from her. Her breath sped up in panicked response even as her eyes slid shut in silent prayer that this nightmare be over.

A moment later, her wish was granted.

Chapter 7: The World Exploded, Part III.

The world exploded with a roar, an awful sound that resonated deep within the four people huddled behind the counter and continued to hammer them with relentless waves. Winds peaking far faster than anything yet experiences blew outward from some central, unseen location, and battered across the expanse over the counter with terrifying force, the air awash with rolling, billowing clouds of orange flame which lapped at everything in their path, raining bits of burning debris—flaming napkins, scorched menus, and other things best left nameless—upon crouched backs.

Larger, successive impacts could be heard now as the ante was upped from minor object to furniture as tables, chairs, stools, the corner jukebox, anything remotely movable was sent scattering into oblivion, crashing into each other, disintegrating in seconds. Built during an age of sturdy, dependable craftsmanship, the counter weathered the onslaught with stoic constancy, shuddering with each impact but holding even as flames encroached upon it and began vying for a taste.

Mel thought that she was screaming, but she couldn't hear her own voice, and the ringing mental cries resounding through her head were enough to cloud any actual perceptions anyway. She could feel the warm body pressed above her shudder and jerk with unseen impacts she could only image even as it curled more tightly around her and she shamelessly fell into the tenuous comfort the rather heroic effort provided. Eyes still kept tightly shut, she turned her face to the floor and began praying, focusing her mind on the repetitive, comforting words that had been drilled into her since childhood, hoping desperately to ease these final moments as she waited for the end.

An end which never came, at least in the form she was anticipating, as with one last roar of defiance, the apocalyptic firestorm subsided into an almost gentle purr in comparison, the air resolving itself to a more normal state as the barest breath of wind, chill and crisp, swept easily over them and chased away the heat.

For several long moments, no one dared to move until a moment later Mel heard the familiar groan of Mac moving from a position he'd held for too long and the equally familiar and dear voice sounded softly from her right.

"Mel?"

Struggling against the suddenly heavy weight above her, Mel realized that her protector had slipped into unconsciousness and did her best to roll him off her without causing more damage as she remembered the pain that been reflected in his eyes earlier. Mac reached down to help her, and seconds later she was wrapped in a warm, crushing embrace similar to the one she'd been in moments ago, this one smelling of pancake flour and pine.

Holding on to him tightly, she felt him shift to his knees, body tensing as he peered cautiously over the edge of the counter, hold never loosening on her, and her eyes opened of their own violation to view the devastation around them.

The diner was in ruins, a mixture of charred remains and other bits still burning slowly, sluggishly. Most of the front wall was completely gone, booths and all, while the sides remained remarkably intact as did the back and behind that, Mel assumed, the kitchen. The counter had indeed proved itself to be a blessing as it sheltered them from the worst of the storm…explosion…whatever it had been. Above them was a darkening sky, grey storm clouds piling up on each other like river water assaulting a dam, the first hints of precipitation already making their way down in the form of white, pure snowflakes. The roof, it seemed, had been blown straight out by the…whatever…likely saving their lives from a horrible fate, and at that thought, Mel turned to their two companions, heart frozen in sudden fear that she'd overlooked something, diagnosed unconsciousness in the place of something more serious.

Trembling fingers felt for a pulse on her protector's neck, shoulders collapsing in relief as she found the strong, steady beat a moment later. A glance over at Mac, who'd remained close to her but taken advantage of his great size to reach the taller of the two, confirmed that the other was in similar condition: alive but unconscious. Looking down at the slack face, she reached out and brushed carefully at some dirt collected on one cheek, mind struggling to grasp what had just taken place, and what he'd done for her without a second thought. He'd saved her, protected her…from…whatever it was…and he could have…

"Mel," Mac said gently as he placed a careful hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present and grounding her. "Whoever or whatever that was, they're gone for now, but I'm not sure for how long. I think it might be best if we all get moving before they get back."

She jerked her head up and scanned the area quickly looking for signs of movement, having forgotten about the businessman with the white eyes, the nervous man with the black, and the Not-Caroline in the wake of the destruction. Nothing except for the gentle fall of snowflakes.

"Back?" she asked, voice tremulous from screaming. "Why would they come back?" Fear crept back into her voice, tensed her shoulder.

"That…thing said she was here for the Winchesters, and I think she meant these two, focused on them as she and her friend were. And, I don't think we did ourselves any favors standing in her way," Mac told her as he stood up with a groan, eyes continually scanning the surrounding area for trouble.

"What…?" her voice trailed off as she found herself unable to think. "What are we going to do?"

Looking down at her briefly before swinging his eyes to the two men—boys, from his perspective—on the ground, Mac was silent for a moment before he tightened his hand in an affectionate, reassuring manner, the warmth of his rough palm soaking into her chilled skin through the thin fabric of her blouse. "What we have to," was the gravely reply, the confident tones acting like a kind of balm on her mind as it brought her further back to reality.

Sorry this one is so short, everyone, and for the delay with updating. I hope these two chapters were worth the wait. (I promise, the boys will be making a strong, focused reappearance soon now that this background story has been established.) Reviews/suggestions welcome!