**Hey! I know that this is a late update, but I hope you all love it. I've been pretty busy lately, so I'm sorry that this took so long. I'd love for everyone to review or PM and tell me what you think about it! Quick disclaimer: I really don't own any of the Supernatural characters (unfortunately). Anyway, this is actually my longest chapter ever, so enjoy! Thanks so much to JJS4, Ladysunshine6, and grapejuice101 for PMing me with ideas; you guys are great! Thanks to everyone who reads! Love all of you guys!**
Bloodlust
"Whoo!" I glanced at Dean and smiled as I saw the wide, excited grin on his face. It was our first ride in the fixed Impala that he'd just finished working on. "Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?"
"Careful, Dean. Mel might get jealous," I rumpled up a paper on my lap and twisted in my seat to throw it back at him, making him laugh.
"Oh, don't listen to him, babe. You know you're still first," He winked at me, and Sam and I exchanged a glance before erupting into laughter.
"Someone's happy today," I commented, smiling uncertainly. We were all in a surprisingly good mood; a better mood than we had been in for a while now.
"Why shouldn't I be?" He returned, turning from the road to fix his suddenly serious eyes on me as his tone turned somber.
"I don't know," I shrugged, not being able to shake the feeling that he was hiding something behind the good mood.
"I got my car, got a case, got my amazing girlfriend," He threw me another wink, which made me smile again. "Things are looking up," Sam let out a small laugh from the backseat.
"Wow. You hear of a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you're Mr. Sunshine," Dean and I laughed lightly at Sam's joking words.
"How far to Red Lodge?" Dean questioned, getting back to the matter at hand. The hunt. I was the one that had caught it in the newspapers; two severed heads along with some cow mutilations, and it was only a short drive from Bobby's.
"Should be around 320 miles," I informed him, my eyes dropping to survey the map in my hands briefly before flicking to Dean again. Dean's hand tightened on the wheel, and a smile overtook his lips again.
"Good," He revved the engine, and we accelerated. I didn't bother mentioning speeding, instead choosing to let him enjoy the repaired Impala.
"The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all that I can share with the press at this time," The heavyset, gruff looking sheriff with a mustache so big that I could barely see his lips was telling us from across the desk.
"I know, but just fact checking here, you found the first head Wednesday of last week, right?" I paused, my eyes flicking up from the file I was holding to meet his darker ones as he let out a grunt and a nod. "Right, okay. The other one, belonging to Christina Flannigan-"
"Two days ago," He interrupted me with the correct information. There was a knock at the door, and I glanced back to see a young woman, who must've been his assistant, tapping her watch. "Oh, thank you," The sheriff nodded to her before turning back to us. "Sorry, time's up. We're done here,"
"Wait, one last question," Sam tried, but it didn't work; he was already rising from his black, leather seat.
"What about the cattle?" Dean asked before Sam could finish his thought. The sheriff fixed Dean with a hard look and a disbelieving frown.
"Excuse me?" He questioned, raising a bushy, white eyebrow.
"You know, the cattles found dead, split open, drained - over a dozen cases," Dean jogged his memory, but he still had that skeptical, incredulous look on his face.
"What about them?" He inquired.
"Well, don't you think it's possible that there is a connection between the beheadings and the cattle mutilations?" I questioned, not sure what to make of the fact that it hadn't even crossed his mind.
"Why would there be a connection?" Boy, this guy was dense. It was my turn to raise my eyebrows disbelievingly at the sheriff.
"Well, first cattle mutilations, now two murders. Kind of sounds like ritual stuff," Sam elaborated further as the sheriff leaned towards us.
"You know, like Satanic cult ritual stuff,' Dean added, hoping to get something out of the man. Well, he did succeed in getting something out of the man, but it wasn't what we'd intended. The sheriff started laughing, pointing at us as if we'd just told a very funny joke. I glanced at Dean uncertainly to see him looking just as miffed as I was by the man's unfounded amusement.
"You're not kidding," The sheriff realized, his laughter dying in his throat.
"No," Dean shook his head, his face a deadpan, and the man's finger dropped to the desk, his face growing serious with a hint of contempt, like we were the one's not knowing what was going on.
"Those cows aren't being mutilated. You want to know how I know," I raised my eyebrows at his statement. Not seeing the connection was one thing, but to deny the fact that the cows were being mutilated even though it's right in front of you is a whole other animal.
"How?" Sam humored him.
"Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within 48 hours the bloat will split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground, get soaked up, cause that's what gravity does, but, hey, it could be Satan," I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the man's explanation. Or both. "What newspaper did you say you worked for?"
"World Weekly News," Dean told him.
"Weekly World News," I corrected quickly, knowing that we should probably leave soon before we get kicked out.
"World - weekly-" Dean stammered, shaking his head, and I attempted to ignore how cute it was. "I'm new,"
"Get out of my office," The sheriff annunciated every syllable, and I stood without having to be told twice, pulling Dean up with me.
"Yes, sir," We walked out of the police department without a glance backwards. Our next stop was the morgue, and it took all of three minutes to commandeer three lab coats that we slipped over our current, formal attire. We walked into the morgue, seeing the man that was standing in the room, who was also in a white lab coat.
"Jared," I greeted the man, taking a guess at what the J stood for one his name tag that read J. Manners.
"Jeff," He corrected, still grinning widely at me as I stepped forward with a welcoming smile.
"Jeff, right, sorry. I'm not myself today," I shook my head slightly to emphasize my point. "Dr. Dorkin is waiting for you in his office right now. He said it was urgent," Jeff's eyebrows drew together in confusion at my statement.
"But Dr. Dorkin's on vacation," He told us, and I silently cursed my luck.
"Well, if he's in there and yelling for you, then clearly he's back," I used a tone that told him that should've been obvious. "I mean, if I were you…" I didn't have to finish that thought, for the man was already out the door, which Sam shut behind him.
"Hey, those Satanists from Florida - they marked their victims, didn't they?" Dean questioned Sam and me as he approached the bodies
"Yeah, reverse pentacle on the forehead," Sam remembered as I handed Dean a pair of latex gloves and then did the same to Sam before putting them on.
"So much F'ed up crap happens in Florida," I broke a smile at his assessment before opening the door and pulling out the metal sheet where the body was lying. Between her feet sat the white box that contained her head. "Alright, open it," Dean instructed, glancing at Sam as he put on the other glove.
"You open it," I rolled my eyes at the two brothers before coming to stand in front of the box.
"I'll open it," The box was surprisingly light when I picked it up and set it down on a table. I removed the lid carefully, revealing grey skin and sunken eyes that made me grimace in disgust. "There's no pentagram," I noted as Dean and Sam came to stand beside me.
"Wow. Poor girl," Sam muttered, clearly trying to fight his gag reflex at the sight of the severed head.
"Yeah," I agreed softly before getting an idea. "We should check her mouth. Sometimes something's shoved down the throat. Remember Phoenix?" I recalled the case that we'd worked on a few years back.
"Right, like the moth in 'Silence of the Lambs'," Dean punched Sam's shoulder lightly, and I cracked a small, strained smile.
"You go ahead," Sam spun the box to face Dean, who shook his head and spun it back to face his brother.
"No, you go ahead," Sam frowned, looking at him.
"What?" He asked sharply. Sam didn't particularly like dead bodies.
"'Put the lotion in the basket'," I grinned at Dean's impersonation, and Sam glanced at me.
"What about you?" Sam looked down at me, making me shrugged at him, not very eager to stick my hand in some dead girl's mouth.
"I opened the box," I reminded him innocently, and he rolled his eyes before reaching into her mouth and feeling around.
"Mel, can you get me a bucket?" Sam asked, and I straightened, glancing down at his hands.
"What'd you find?" I questioned curiously only to have Sam shake his head.
"No, I'm gonna puke," Sam was turning pale and green around the edges, which made me send him a look and nudge him lightly. I refocused on the dead woman's mouth, and that's when something caught my eye.
"Wait, lift her lip up again," Dean seemed to have seen it too, and we both leaned towards the head, ignoring the look Sam shot us.
"What?" He asked incredulously with a tinge of disgust. "You want me to throw up, is that it?"
"No, no, no. I think I saw something," Dean lifted up the edge of her lip, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. I watched in anticipation as he pulled it up farther so we could see the hole that sat above her canine tooth. "What is that, a hole?"
"It's a tooth," Sam realized as I pushed the space besides the hole, making a hooked tooth emerge from the hole.
"No, it's a fang," I stated, taking my hand away and allowing the tooth to slide back into the hole. "A vampire fang… Oh, my god," I breathed as Dean let her lip fall, and we straightened.
"Well, this changes things," Sam stated the obvious, making Dean and I both turn to look at him with a 'no duh' expression.
"You think?" Dean asked sarcastically, but I didn't have time to make a joke about Sam's stating of the obvious. I was too focused on what this meant for us. We might be dealing with another hunter here.
"We should go to the local bar tonight. Vampires are usually rowdy, so they'll probably be there," I reasoned logically, focused on the case. Sam and Dean nodded in agreement.
-San Francisco, California 1995-
"Dean, come on. You have a D in algebra," I tried to reason with my stubborn boyfriend, who rolled his eyes at my concern. "You have to at least try to study for the test tomorrow,"
"What's the point?" He argued, shrugging lightly with a grin on his face. "We're only going to move schools in a couple of days anyway," I sighed at his logic.
"You still have to try," I flipped through the textbook that was lying in front of us on the bed until I found the right chapter. "Here, concentrate,"
"How can I concentrate when I have a beautiful girl right next to me?" I tried fight the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I hit him lightly in the chest.
"Stop it," I admonished him, looking down at the book so he couldn't see the small smile that had wormed its way onto my lips.
"Stop what?" He inquired innocently, making me roll my eyes and smile wider.
"Distracting me," He laughed, which made me look up at him with a mock glare that I couldn't hold.
"I'm not distracting you; you're distracting me," He turned the tables on me, and I smiled as an idea struck me. Two could play at this game. I turned my head to gaze up into his eyes, fluttering my eyelashes lightly, and his face lost its cocky smile as his eyes dropped to my lips that were inches from his own. He leaned down, but just as he did, I leaned back, making him pause.
"Do problem three," I let out a small, breathy laugh, and his lips twitched into a mischievous smile.
"What do I get if I get it right?" He questioned, which made my smile widen.
"I guess you'll have to get it right to find out," I answered ambiguously, and he turned to the book, his brow furrowing in thought as he regarded the problem. After a moment, he grabbed the notebook and began writing out the steps, and half a minute later, he handed me the notebook with the right answer circled.
"Now, what do I get?" I grinned as I set the notebook down and reached up to press my lips against his soft ones. I smiled into the kiss as we fell back on the bed, his tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. He slid his hands up my shirt, his cool fingers brushing against my skin, making it tingle.
"What the hell is going on?" A gruff, furious voice boomed from the doorway made Dean and I jerk apart and sit up straight. John Winchester was standing just inside the door, his face twisted in rage as he took in what had been happening. Dean scrambled off the bed, and I hurriedly fixed my shirt as I pressed my back against the bed frame, wishing that I could disappear into it. "Explain yourselves!" John bellowed, making Dean and I jump badly.
"I - w-we were just-" Dean stammered, groping for an excuse to cover what we'd been doing. "Mel was teaching me math-"
"Teaching you math? It sure as hell didn't look like she was teaching you math!" John yelled at his son, who flinched back as if his dad had smacked him across the face.
"John, it wasn't his fault-" I began, hating to see Dean get yelled at for something we'd both done.
"Stay out of this, Melody!" I winced at the use of my full name.
"But-" I had to try; I couldn't just say nothing.
"Just shut up!" John snapped at me, making my eyes widen. Never in sixteen years had he ever told me to shut up.
"Don't talk to her like that!" My eyes widened further as Dean stood up to John. He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bed and behind him as he glared at John.
"I'll talk to her however the hell I want to! She is going back to Jimmy, and you are going to do exactly what I tell you to!" John shouted at his son, and my heart froze. John was going to tell my dad he couldn't take me anymore.
"No! Pl-" I started only to have John turn a harsh glare on me.
"Pack your bags," Was all John said before turning his glower on Dean.
"You can't-" Dean began, but John didn't care.
"I can, and I will! Be prepared to leave by morning," He directed the last part at me before slamming the door behind him as he stalked out. I pressed my back against the wall and sunk down to the floor, trembling like a leaf; I was leaving.
I blinked out of the memory as we walked into the bar and headed towards the counter where a gruff looking man was serving a couple young women. He turned to us expectantly as we approached.
"How's it going?" Dean asked, grinning cockily at the bartender.
"Living the dream," He replied sarcastically with a wink at me before returning to drying the glasses, and I felt Dean's arm tighten. "What can I get for you?"
"Three beers, please," I answered, smiling easily at the man, who nodded and turned to get the already dry glasses out of the cabinet.
"So, we're looking for some people," Sam began, getting down to business as we sat down.
"Sure. It's hard to be lonely," The man replied with a quizzical glance at Dean and I.
"Yeah, but, um, that's not what I meant," Sam replied, setting a fifty on the counter. The bartender picked it up greedily, and Sam took that as a green light. "Great. So, these people would've moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink,"
"Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day. Party all night," Dean added while I watched the man's reaction closely. When Sam had started to describe the type of people we were looking for, he'd tensed ever so slightly before relaxing.
"Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago - real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers, noisy. I had to 86 them once or twice," I exchanged a glance with Dean; looks like we found our vampires. All at once, I got the odd feeling we were being watched, and I threw a short glance over my shoulder to see nothing out of the ordinary.
"Thanks for your time," I thanked the man distractedly before leading the boys out of the bar. We walked down the street, and I heard footsteps following us. "Someone's following us," My voice was barely audible, but I knew both boys had heard it. We turned down an alley before speeding up our walk to a jog and turning the second corner, which only left us two feet of room for us to hide behind the wall. I ended up pressed between Dean and Sam as I concentrated on the footsteps slowly coming towards the corner. They paused, and I peaked around the corner to see the tall, dark-skinned man looking backwards. We seized the opportunity to sneak up behind him. When he turned back, Dean and Sam grabbed him, slamming him against the wall of the house while I pressed a blade to his neck with a hand on his chest.
"Smile, leech," I ordered, leaving no room for him to argue.
"What?" He questioned, sounding miffed.
"Show us those pearly whites," Dean made our meaning a bit more clear to the man.
"Oh, for the love of - you want to stick that thing someplace else. I'm not a vampire," He told us plainly, his eyes dropping to the knife that I was pressing to his throat. I didn't oblige. "Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there,"
"What do you know about vampires?" Sam demanded, and I waited impatiently for him to respond. I already didn't like him. He gave me a bad feeling.
"How to kill them," He answered shortly. "Now, seriously that knife's making me itch," He began to move, and Sam slammed his shoulder harder into the wood of the house while I pressed the blade against his neck more firmly. "Whoa, easy there, chachi," He raised his open hand, that had no weapon whatsoever, and pulled up his lip to show us the lack of holes in his gums. He wasn't a vampire. "See? Fangless. Happy?" Reluctantly, I withdrew the blade from his neck and stood back. "Now, who the hell are you?"
30 Minutes Later
"Sam and Dean Winchester," The hunter, whose name we had found out was Gordon, mused as he opened the door. "And Melody Scott," He added, glancing back at me interestedly from where he was fiddling with something in the driver's seat. He slid out a metal sheet filled with hunter's weapons. "I can't believe it. You know, I met your old man once - hell of a guy, great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry," I felt a dull throb go through my chest at the mention of John. I'd been suppressing the stab of pain until it was now just a dull throb whenever I heard John's name. "Met your dad, too, you know," I faked a smile as Gordon turned his dark eyes on me. "He was really something. Big shoes to fill, but, from what I hear, you guys fill them - great trackers, good in a tight spot,"
"You seem to know a lot about our family," Dean's voice was laced with mistrust as he studied the man before us warily. He seemed trustworthy enough, but for some reason, something kept tugging at my brain. I didn't like him; I didn't know why I didn't, but I didn't.
"World travels fast. You know how hunters talk," I frowned at that. Was there some newsletter that we weren't signed up for?
"No, we don't actually," Dean muttered in annoyance.
"I guess there's a lot your dads never told you, huh?" I stiffened at the mention of my father but forced myself to relax. Being openly hostile towards another hunter didn't bode well for anyone.
"So, you killed the two vamps, then?" I checked, making sure we had the right guy.
"Yep, been here two weeks," Gordon sounded proud as he talked about his beheadings.
"Did you check out that Barker Farm?" Dean questioned, and Gordon nodded.
"It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill someone with that Patchouli smell alone," Gordon cracked a joke, but no one laughed. It was too serious to laugh at.
"Did you find the nest?" I asked, getting impatient with his arrogance. In response to his question, he smiled patronizingly and looked down at the floor before back up at us.
"I got this one covered," He told us, pushing the metal sheet back into where it had been hidden in his car. "Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meeting you fellas, but I've been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it,"
"We could help," Dean offered, and I glanced at him apprehensively; he'd been desperate for a hunt since we'd finished the clown job. My mind skirted away from the thought of the clown hunt; I didn't want to think of that.
"Thanks, but, uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy," Gordon explained tightly.
"I've been itching for a hunt," Dean tried to convince him, but Gordon just shook his head.
"Sorry, but, hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out," I smiled without any mirth as he got into his car and slammed the door behind him. "It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side," Just like that, he drove off.
"So, we find another hunt?" I questioned hopefully, turning to the two boys. I was eager to get out of this town and as far away from Gordon as physically possible.
"No," One glance at Dean's determined face told me all I needed to know. We were going after the vampires. We followed Gordon to an abandoned shipping dock, and snuck after him as he headed towards the water. "We stay out of sight unless he's in trouble," Dean reminded us as we crept through the shadows and watched Gordon confront the vampire. From what I could see, Gordon was getting his ass handed to him. There was a mechanical whirring sound and a long, chainsaw looking object was turned on. The vampire punched Gordon a few times before grabbing the object and bringing it down on his neck. Before he could slice the man head off, Sam grabbed his feet and pulled him out from under it.
I snatched an iron rod off the wall and swung it at the vamp, hearing a solid thud as it connected with his abdomen. Next, I slammed it into his chin, causing it to jerk upward and for him to stagger back. Dean swung the harpoon he'd picked up into the man's face, making his head snap sideways and disorienting him. The vampire fell onto the board below the saw that was still whirring, and Dean raised the harpoon, jamming it down into the vampire's stomach and pinning him to the board. The thing howled in agony, making me take a step back and wince at the horror of the sound. Dean punched the thing across the face twice before reaching up for the saw and beheading it. Blood spattered Dean's face as the thunk and slosh of bone and veins being cut through filled the air and made me turn away in disgust. Finally, Dean pulled up the cutter, and I focused on his grim features as he fixed his eyes on me.
"So, uh, I guess I got to buy you that drink," I tore my eyes from Dean's to study Gordon, who was looking anything but repulsed by Dean's work.
I set my drink down on the table after a few sips, not really in the mood for a drink. Dean set his down as well and started reaching into his pocket, but Gordon waved a hand at him.
"No, no, I got it," He counted out the bills as Dean shook his head.
"Come on," He disagreed, but Gordon held up a finger.
"I insist," He declared, which left none of us any room to argue. He set the bills down on the waitress's tray. "Thank you, sweetheart," He told her, barely even glancing at the young woman. Hesitantly, I picked up my shot and held it up next to Gordon and Dean's. "Another one bites the dust," Gordon's words were a sorry excuse for a toast.
"Yeah," The syllable was less than convincing, but it seemed to work for we all took the shot except Sam, who I could tell was as skeptical about this new guy as I was.
"Dean," Gordon began, pausing to chuckle a bit. "You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend. That was beautiful, absolutely beautiful,"
"Yep," Dean agreed, grinning as he drank his beer while Sam and I sat in silence. "You two alright?" Dean regarded us with furrowed eyebrows.
"Yeah, great," I managed to fake a smile convincingly, knowing it wasn't a smart idea to voice my concerns about Gordon's trustworthiness in front of him. "Sammy," I prompted, nudging him when he didn't reply.
"Yeah, fine," He answered begrudgingly.
"Well, lighten up a little, Sammy," Sam and I both stiffened at Gordon's use of his nickname, as if he was part of the family all ready.
"They're the only ones who get to call me that," Sam spoke stoically to him, which seemed to take Gordon by surprise.
"Okay," He agreed, his eyes flicking to me and then Dean uncertainly before back at Sam. "No offense meant. Just celebrating a little - job well done,"
"Right, well, um, decapitations aren't really my idea of a good time, I guess," Sam told him stiffly, and Gordon looked down, nodding slightly.
"Oh, come on, man, it's not like it was human. You got to have more fun with your job," Gordon tried to reason with him, but his reasoning only worked to anger me more.
"See, that's what Mel and I've been trying to tell him," We had been trying to get Sam to have a bit more fun, but I wasn't sure Gordon was the shining role model that Dean seemed to think he was. "You could learn a thing or two from this guy," Sam's eyes flicked to me, and I could tell he read the caution in mine.
"Yeah, I bet I could," He agreed, thankfully not starting an argument. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel," He began to rise.
"You sure?" Dean asked, rubbing his eye tiredly. It was one of the moments that I could see clearly how exhausted we all were and how much of a toll John's death had taken on us.
"Yeah," Sam glanced at me. "Mel?" My eyes flicked to Dean briefly before I stood as well.
"Yeah, I'll go with you," Dean sighed heavily at my answer, but I couldn't stand staying here with Gordon any longer.
"Mel, come on," Dean started.
"I'm tired anyway. I'll see you back at the motel," I gave him a kiss that was meant as a goodbye peck on the lips but lingered a little longer. "Don't drive," I reminded him, holding up the keys that I'd swiped from his pocket when we'd kissed, which made him grin in amusement.
"Hey, beat the buzzkill out of Sammy for me, would you?" My mouth twitched in a smile that disappeared as I shot Gordon one last mistrusting look before I followed Sam out the door.
-3rd Person-
"Something I said?" Gordon questioned as he watched Mel and Sam walk out the door without a glance backwards at the two still at the table. He didn't need a hunter's intuition to know that they didn't like him.
"No, no," Dean shook his head with a sigh. "Sam just gets that way sometimes,"
"And what about your girlfriend?" Gordon prompted, turning from the door to face Dean again. "She doesn't seem to like me very much either,"
"Tell you what," Dean ignored his prompt, looking down at his drink. "Match quarters for the next round," Gordon readily agreed. After four more rounds of shots, the two began trading hunting stories.
"So I picked up this crossbow, and I hit that ugly sucker - silver tipped arrow right in his heart," Dean remembered the hunt where he'd killed his first werewolf. "Sammy's waiting in the car, and me, Mel, and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there, and I look over at Mel, and I'm thinking to myself, 'We're sixteen years old. Kids our age are worried about pimples and prom dates. We're seeing things that they'll never even know, never even dream of.' So right then, I just sort of-"
"Embraced the life?" Gordon supplied Dean with the words, and Dean nodded in agreement, his mind still eleven years back. He blinked out of his memory and focused on the hunter sitting opposite him.
"How'd you get started?" He questioned, and Gordon's face lost all semblance of happiness.
"First time I was a vampire, I was barely eighteen, home alone with my sister. I hear the window break in her room. I grabbed my dad's gun, run in, try to get it off her. It was too late. So I shoot the damn thing, which, of course, is about as useful as snapping it with a rubber band. It rushes me, picks me up, flings me across the room, knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire's gone… my sister's gone," Gordon gazed at the table, a far away look in his eyes as he spoke.
"And then?" Dean prompted, trying not to sound too eager for the rest of the tale.
"Then…" Gordon hesitated briefly before continuing. "Try explaining that one to your family. So I left home… and then bummed around looking for information - how you track them, how you kill them. And I found that fang. It was my first kill,"
"Sorry about your sister," Dean raised his glass to Gordon before drinking some more of his beer.
"Yeah," He agreed sorrowfully. "She was beautiful. I can still see her, you know, the way she was," Gordon drank from his glass, and Dean's mind flicked to Sammy and Mel. He found himself wishing they hadn't left, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away by taking another swig of the beer. "But, hey, that was a long time ago. I mean, your dad - it's got to be rough," Dean's eyes dropped to the floor, and he felt that familiar hole open up inside of him at the mention of his father.
"Yeah, you know, he was just one of those guys - took some terrible beatings - just kept coming. So you're always saying to yourself, 'he's indestructible. He'll always be around. Nothing can kill my dad.' And then just like that…" Dean snapped his fingers. "He's gone," He shook his head and forced a small chuckle. "I can't talk about this to Sammy. No, I got to keep my game face on,"
"What about your girlfriend, Melody?" Dean's mouth twitched, and he didn't meet Gordon's eyes when the man mentioned Mel. He took a deep breath and forced another chuckle.
"She's worried enough as it is," It was partially true. Dean knew Mel worried about him and Sam being okay after his dad's death, but he was just as worried about Mel. She hadn't cried since John had flatlined, and she barely mentioned his death or the demon unless absolutely necessary. He was worried about her, and it didn't help that every time he closed his eyes all he could see was her body lying on the floor a few feet away, her eyes boring into his. It didn't help that in every silence he heard her soft, broken voice whisper 'I love you' before her eyes shut for what he'd thought would be the last time.
"Dean?" His eyes snapped back to Gordon, who was looking at him with something close to concern in his eyes. He realized his knuckles had turned white from clutching the glass so tightly, and he slowly released it.
"Truth is, I'm not handling it very well. I feel like I have this-" Dean started slowly, needing to finally say it aloud.
"Hole inside you?" Dean's eyes snapped up at Gordon's guess. "And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker?" Dean didn't reply, only nodded in shock. "Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me, there's plenty out there needs killing, and this will help you do it. Dean, it's not a crime to need your job," Dean took in the advice thoughtfully; it was different than Sam's or Mel's. "You know why I love this job?" Gordon went on after a moment of silence. "It's all black and white. you find the bad thing - kill it. Most people spend their lives in shades of grey. Is this right? Is that wrong? Not us,"
"Not sure Mel or Sammy would agree with you, but, uh…" Dean trailed off as he took another drink. His mind briefly flashed back to his father's last words to him, but he roughly shoved the thought away.
"Doesn't seem like your brother's much like us. Your girlfriend, too, although she's more like us than your brother," Dean stopped drinking, his eyes turning wary and protective as he regarded Gordon, who seemed to sense that he'd overstepped. "I'm not saying their wrong - just different. You and me, we were born to do this. It's in our blood," Dean couldn't argue.
-1st Person-
"I don't like him. He gives me a bad feeling," I felt childish saying the words, but they were the truth. I parked the car directly in front of our motel room, and Sam and I got out.
"What kind of feeling?" He questioned, and I thought for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe how I felt when I looked at Gordon.
"When I look at him… I feel like I'm staring at… a murderer," I finished, only just realizing what I really felt. My eyes flicked to Sam to gauge his reaction, and almost immediately his eyes widened and he froze in his steps toward the room.
"Well," He began cautiously. "Of course he's killed before, he's a hunter. That's probably it," But then why didn't I feel that way when I looked at Sam or Dean? Or Max and Bobby? I knew a lot of hunters, and I'd never felt as if they were threatening my safety.
"Yeah, maybe," I agreed, deciding to let it slide for now as Sam opened the door to our room. They'd only had one vacancy, which meant that Sammy, Dean, and I were sharing one room for however long we were in this town for. "Would you mind calling Ellen or Bobby for me?" I tossed Sam the phone as I headed towards the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower," I ran the water as Sam dialed, and I left to grab some clothes before disappearing into it again. I focused my hearing on what Sam was saying as I worked on scrubbing the dirt off my skin.
Harvelle's Roadhouse. Ellen picked up the phone, and I heard Sam let out a small sigh.
"Hey, Ellen - Sam Winchester," He told her, sounding uncertain.
Sam, it's good to hear from you. You three are okay, aren't you? A tinge of concern entered her voice, making my lips twitch up in a small grin.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?" His voice gained a dark tone as he spoke the other hunter's name. Sammy felt it too. The darkness that hung over the man.
Yeah, I know Gordon. She replied nonchalantly, and I could hear the shrug in her words.
"And?" Sam prompted, eager for more information.
Well, he's a real good hunter. Why you asking, sweetie?
"We ran into him on a job, and we're kind of working with him," Sam began to explain only to be cut off by a suddenly worried Ellen.
Don't do that, Sam.
"I-I thought you said he was a good hunter," Sam stammered, confused at her sudden shift from indifference to cautious.
Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good , he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job, you three just let him handle it and move on.
"Ellen-" Sam began, surprised at her urgent tone.
No, Sam, you just listen to what I'm telling you, okay? She was nearly pleading with him now.
"Right, okay," I didn't bother listening to anymore of their conversation; I'd heard what I'd wanted to know. He wasn't a normal hunter. There was something off about him, something dangerous. I rinsed my hair before working conditioner through it, and my thoughts unexpectedly turned to John. There was an all too familiar throb in my heart, but I quickly turned my mind to something else before I could get too absorbed in my thoughts. John was gone and he wasn't coming back. All I could do now was focus on the present; Sam and Dean weren't handling it well. I stepped out of the shower and dried myself before throwing on dark blue skinny jeans and a grey tank top. I spent a brief two minutes drying my hair before stepping out of the bathroom.
"I'm guessing you heard that?" I nodded in answer to Sam's question before grabbing my key to the room and heading towards the door.
"We'll warn Dean when he gets back. I'm going to get a water. Do you want anything?" I questioned, glancing at him. I felt better knowing that we would be getting out of this town as soon as Dean came back.
"I'll come with you," He offered as I shrugged on my brown jacket, and in a few moments we were shutting the door behind us and making our way up the walkway to the soft drinks vending machine. I pushed the button for water, feeding the machine my money before Sam did the same, getting a coke. There was a sharp crack to our right, and my head whipped around to allow my eyes to scan the trees.
"Hurry up. Let's get out of here," I hit Sam's shoulder lightly as I spoke, and he grabbed the coke before joining me in walking back to the motel room. We were about halfway there before I heard another crackle behind us, and we stopped. Sam popped the soda open and drank some, but I knew he'd heard the noise too, despite his attempt to act otherwise.
"Come on. Let's just go back to the room," He suggested, quickening his pace and leaving me no choice but to follow him. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before getting the door open, and I couldn't help glancing backwards, scanning the parking lot for movement. I shut the door behind me and locked it for good measure. That was when I heard the crunch from inside the room. I spun just in time to grab the fist that had been directed at the back of my head, and I swung it sideways, causing my attacker to stumble. Taking advantage of the man's momentary instability, I rammed my knee into his gut, making the air rush out of him in a whoosh. As he turned his head to look up at me, trying to regain his balance, I slammed my elbow down on his face, sending him to the ground. My eyes found Sam, who had just punched another man to the ground. That was when I saw the figure behind him.
"Sam, behind you!" My warning came too late, for even as Sam spun, the man was already bringing the iron down on the back of his head, knocking him out cold. "Sam!" The man yanked his limp body up, and I started forward only to be hauled back by two burly men in their late forties.
"Bring her too," The man holding Sam ordered to the ones restraining my arms. Normally, I would've fought tooth and nail to get out of their arms, but they had Sam, which meant that I needed to stay with them. We were loaded into the trunk of a car, and the car began to move. There was barely any room in the trunk for Sam, let alone me as well. I ended up pressed against his chest, nearly on top of him during the thirteen minute car ride. A bag was over my head, prohibiting me from seeing anything, but I did count the turns and try to hear anything that might help us. After what seemed like an eternity, the car finally came to a complete stop, and I heard doors opening and closing. The light filtering through the bag grew brighter as the trunk was opened and we were dragged out and tied down in chairs. The bags were removed, and I saw burly, beefy man standing in front of us.
"Don't touch him," I snapped at the man, who'd taken a step towards Sam, his fanged teeth growing longer. He paused to turn to me and cock his head in surprise as he studied me interestedly. My eyes softened briefly as they flicked to Sam's still, limp form that was tied down to the chair before they returned to glower at our kidnapper. The creature stalked towards me, looming over me as his top lip curled up in an animalistic snarl.
"Wait! Step back, Eli," A female voice called from behind the man, who reluctantly obeyed her request. "My name's Lenore," She introduced herself, walking towards me with slow, measured steps. "I'm not gonna hurt you," I could hear the unwavering truth in her words, yet I still couldn't bring myself to trust them. She stopped in front of me as she continued. "We just need to talk,"
"Oh, is that what Eli was trying to do just then? Could've fooled me," Her only response to my quip was an amused twitch of her lips before she glanced back at Eli.
"He won't hurt you either. You have my word," She spoke to me calmly, facing me again, and my eyes flicked to Sam again. "He won't hurt the boy either," She promised, and my eyes returned to hers, a smirk on my lips.
"Well, that sure means a lot coming from my kidnapper," I sneered at her, deciding to cut the crap and get to the point. "Look, you know what I am, and I know what you are, Vampire," I spit the word at her like it was poison.
"We're not like the others," She told me, and my eyebrows raised in surprise at her statement. "We don't kill humans, and we don't drink their blood. We haven't for a long time,"
"Yeah, right," I scoffed, not allowing myself to trust anything she said for even a moment.
"Notice, you're still alive," I opened my mouth to retort, but no sarcastic remark came out. There was really no valid response to that; she had a point.
"Fine, say, for argument's sake, that I believe you. How are you not dying of starvation?" I questioned, my gut telling me to trust her while my brain screamed not to.
"We found other ways - cattle blood," She explained, and all at once, it clicked in my brain.
"The mutations that we found in the newspaper," I realized as her story began to gain believability. "That was you,"
"It's not ideal. In fact, it's disgusting, but it allows us to get by," She looked at me steadily, waiting for me to form a response, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
"How do I know you won't kill me anyways?" I asked, glancing at Sammy and then back to her.
"Cut her bonds," She ordered Eli, who stared at her in shock. "Do it," She turned back to me as he went around to untie my wrists. "We'll let you take care of your friend," She jerked her chin at an unconscious Sam just as the ropes restraining my wrists snapped. I rose and quickly crossed to Sam's chair, cradling his face between my fingers. I wasn't dumb enough to think that they would allow me to untie him, but I would take whatever I could get at this point. I just had to make sure he was alright. He let out a moan, his eyes fluttering open to fix on my own.
"Mel!" He jerked in his seat, looking around wildly. His gaze landed on Lenore, and his eyes instantly narrowed distrustingly. "What's going on?" His eyes moved back to mine as I tried to feel the back of his head for a bruise.
"The woman behind me is named Lenore. That's Eli," I started simple by just stating their names.
"Mel, what?" His question transformed into a hiss as I found the bruise, and I was relieved to find it wasn't bleeding.
"She said that they don't feed on humans. Only cattle," Sam's eyes widened as he registered the information.
"And you believe her?" He asked incredulously, and I shook my head helplessly.
"I don't know. I'm starting to. It would explain the mutilations in the newspapers," I could see Sam running through all the possibilities in his head, but I didn't have time to hear what he was thinking.
"Back to your seat," Eli ordered, pulling me a bit more roughly than necessary back into my seat.
"Why though?" Sam questioned, his gaze fixing on Lenore, who was still standing there stoically with her arms folded over her chest.
"Survival," She responded simply. "No deaths, no missing locals, no reason for people like you to come looking for people like us, and we blend in. Our kind is practically extinct. It turns out, we weren't quite as high up the food chain as we imagined,"
"Why are we explaining ourselves to these killers?" Eli exploded furiously, causing me to turn my eyes on him.
"Eli," Lenore began warningly.
"We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight, they murdered Conrad, and they celebrated," Eli glared at both of us, and a chill went up my spine. Dean. Dean had murdered Conrad.
"Eli, that's enough," Lenore hissed at the man, who finally backed off.
"Yeah, Eli, that's enough," Sam mocked, making me throw a sharp glance his way.
"What's done is done," She spoke rationally. "We're leaving this town tonight," She informed us, glancing at Sam and then me.
"Well, then, why bring us here in the first place? Why didn't you just leave? Why tell us all of this?" I asked her, already pretty sure of the answer.
"Believe me, I'd rather not, but I know your kind. Once you have the scent, you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us," She elaborated without really giving a straight answer.
"So you're asking us not to follow you," Sam realized, and Lenore confirmed his words with a nod.
"We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone," She argued with him.
"Right, so you keep saying, but give us one good reason why we should believe you," At Sam's words, Lenore leaned over him, smiling knowingly.
"Fine. You know what I'm going to do?" My grip on the chair tightened as I realized what she was probably about to do. I wriggled my hand, attempting to get it out of the rope. "I'm going to let you both go," I stopped struggling in shock. "Take them both back. Not a mark on them," Lenore ordered Eli, and then we were being dragged out of the house again with a bag over each of our heads.
-1995-
"This is bullshit!" Dean snapped furiously, and I took a deep, shaky breath before packing a black sweater into the dark green duffel. "He can't just ship you off!"
"Dean-" I began softly, knowing he was pissed but also knowing there was nothing either of us could do to stop what was happening.
"I'll tell him it was my fault," I stopped packing and turned to face the agitated boy that was running a hand through his already tousled brown hair.
"You can't do that," I tried, but he only continued.
"I'll tell him I kissed you. He'll be angry, but you'll get to stay," I brushed the lone tear, that was making it's way down my cheek, away roughly.
"Dean, stop," I spoke gently. We'd been dating for three and a half months already, and until now we'd managed to keep John in the dark about our relationship. We hadn't known how he would react, but we'd both been scared to find out. It turns out our fear wasn't unfounded.
"You can't leave, Mel," Another tear made it's way down my face, and I sniffled as I wiped it away.
"I don't have a choice," I tried not to choke on the words as I spoke them. "If John doesn't want me here anymore, I can't stay,"
"I want you here," I looked up from the bag to meet Dean's green eyes, and before I could stop myself, I crossed the distance between us in one step and pressed my lips to his. I kissed him as if the fate of the world depended on it, and he kissed me back just as desperately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me as close to him as possible. Finally, I pulled away, needing air, and he rested his forehead against mine.
"I love you," I whispered softly, another tear making a wet trail down my face. He kissed me again, and I shut my eyes, trying to memorize every detail of his lips. I didn't want to leave. My entire body seemed to be screaming at me to stay with Dean, Sam, and John, but I couldn't go against John.
"I love you, too," I could hear the sorrow and desperation in the words, and I forced myself to take a step back, out of his arms, knowing that if I didn't now, I may never.
"I'll still see you," I offered lamely; we both knew it wouldn't be the same.
"Yeah," He agreed halfheartedly. I glanced at the clock to realize it was 8:05, and my eyes immediately found my phone to see if I had any missed calls.
"You should go pick up Sam. John will be at the nearest bar by now," I spoke the last part bitterly as I shoved one of my jackets into the bag roughly.
"Okay," Dean agreed, grabbing the keys off the table and heading towards the door. As soon as I heard the roar of the Impala pulling away, I grabbed my phone and headed out the door as well, determined to find John Winchester and talk some sense into him.
"Yeah, they are, but Mel wouldn't just disappear, especially while we're working a case," I heard Dean say as we approached our motel room. I opened it and walked through, thoughts flying through my brain at a breakneck speed. Sam and I just stood there, and my eyes found Dean's, his holding a hidden relief. "Where've you two been?"
"We need to talk to you alone," I told him, my eyes flicking briefly to study Gordon before turning back to Dean.
"You mind chilling out for a couple of minutes?" Dean questioned, turning to face Gordon as he did. Gordon just shook his head and shrugged in consent. Dean got up from his chair and followed us out the door and to where the Impala was parked, which I judged to be a safe distance away from Gordon.
"Dean, maybe we got to rethink this hunt," Sam started the conversation, and Dean glanced at me and then back to Sam.
"What are you talking about? Where were you?" He asked, confusion lining his words.
"We were in the nest," I spoke without looking at him, but I could sense his surprise all the same.
"You found it?" His voice was almost excited and very impressed.
"Not quite," I hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. "They kidnapped us,"
"Well, how'd you two get out? How many did you kill?" Dean fired the questions at us, and I just shook my head, finally looking up to meet his eyes.
"None," Dean's eyes moved from me to Sam as he responded.
"Well, guys, they didn't just let you both go," Dean joked.
"Yeah, they did," I cut off whatever he was planning on saying next.
"All right, well, where is it?" He wasn't interested in what we had to say about the vampires, he just wanted a hunt. He wanted something to get him mind off of… well the past month. Hunting was an escape for Dean.
"I was blindfolded. I don't know," Sam answered, and Dean's eyes focused on me.
"Mel?" He prompted when I remained silent. For a brief moment, I contemplated not telling him where the nest was, but I knew I couldn't lie to him.
"We went over a bridge that was around fifteen minutes from here, but I don't think we should hunt them," I quickly finished and saw him stiffen.
"Why not?" He asked, and it was clear that he didn't want to hear this.
"I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people," Dean's eyes turned to me in disbelief.
"You're joking, right? Tell me you don't believe this crap, Mel,"
"You didn't see them, Dean," I tried to stop the fight that I knew was coming.
"It doesn't matter. Look, if what you're saying is true, how do they stay alive or undead? Or whatever the hell they are?" His voice got louder as he continued.
"The cattle," I explained, praying he would agree with us and help the vampires. Even thinking that felt weird. "They said they've been living off of the cattle blood,"
"And you both believed them?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Look at us, Dean," Sam told him, throwing his arms out to the side. "They let us go without a scratch,"
"Wait, so you're saying-" Dean's mouth worked as he tried to come up with words to explain what we were trying to say. "No, guys. No way. I don't know why they let you both go. I don't really care. We find them, and we waste them," Dean started past us, but I grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.
"Why?" Sam spoke before I could, and Dean's eyes turned on him.
"What part of vampires don't you understand, Sam?" Dean's question held an edge, and I could sense the upcoming fight.
"If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job," I suppressed a flinch at his harsh words. I was supernatural, technically.
"No, Dean, that's not our job. Our job is hunting evil," Sam's voice began to rise too.
"He's right, Dean. If these vampires aren't killing anyone, they're not evil, and we can't hunt them," I backed Sam, and Dean scoffed.
"Of course we can. They have to be killing people. That's what they're kind does. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them,"
"No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time," Sam stammered, trying to convince his brother that we shouldn't go after our kidnappers.
"Gordon's been on those vamps for a year. He knows," That stung a bit as well.
"Gordon? You're taking his word for it?" Sam asked in disbelief, and Dean nodded.
"That's right," Dean agreed without shame.
"Listen, Ellen told us that he's bad news," I tried to interject, but Dean only turned his eyes on me incredulously.
"You called Ellen?" I just nodded in answer. "And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Mel. No thanks. I'll go with Gordon," I couldn't believe what he was saying right now.
"Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend," Sam sneered at his brother. "You don't think I can see what this is?"
"Sam," I spoke the word cautiously at the same time Dean said, "What are you talking about?"
"He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one," My eyes widened at Sam's words.
"Shut up, Sam," Dean's voiced contained carefully hidden fury, and he turned away from us to start heading towards the motel room.
"He's not even close, Dean, not on his best day," Sam went on.
"Sam, stop it," I snapped at him.
"No, Mel," Sam was furious now. This could only end badly. "You slap on this big fake smile, but I can see right through it 'cause I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead, and he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it. But you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory," I stood frozen as Sam finished, and I turned my eyes to Dean's shining ones.
"Dean, he doesn't know what he's talking about. Just walk away," I practically begged him, and Dean's eyes slowly turned from Sam to me, the hard, cold fury softening fractionally.
"Okay," He agreed hoarsely, turning to go for the second time.
"You know, I'm right, Dean. You're insult-" Dean whirled around and punched him clear across the face, making one of my hands fly up to hover in front of my mouth in shock. Sam straightened, holding a hand to his bruising cheek before facing Dean again. "You can hit me all you want. It won't change anything,"
"I'm going to that nest," Dean spoke determinedly, ignoring Sam's words. "You both don't want to tell me where it is. Fine. I'll find it myself," He stalked back to the motel room, and I followed him numbly, still stunned at what had just happened. We entered the motel room to find it void of anyone. "Gordon?" There was no use calling his name; he wasn't here.
"He went after the vampires," I realized, carefully hiding my growing fury.
"Probably," Dean agreed frustratedly, but his anger had ebbed.
"Guys, we have to stop him," I wholeheartedly agreed with Sam's words.
"Really? Cause I say we lend a hand," Dean snapped back, turning to face us.
"Dean, just trust us on this one, would you? They're different from the other vampires we ran into," I reasoned with him, and he seemed to consider it briefly.
"Yeah, we'll see," He grumbled before holding out his hand. "I'll drive. Give me the keys,"
"I put them on the table…" I trailed off as I realized there was nothing on the table where I was gesturing. "Goddamn it," I muttered; this whole case getting on my last nerve. "We'll have to hot-wire the Impala," Two minutes later, I was sitting in the back of the Impala while Dean sparked two wires together in the front.
"I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too," The engine revved, and he set down the wires, turning to me. "So, the bridge, is that all you got?"
"It was four and a half minutes from the farm," I told him, confident that my information was correct.
"How do you know?" Dean questioned, and I suppressed the anger that rose in me again. Now was neither the time nor the place to get into this with him.
"I counted the seconds," I responded simply before returning to where I was studying the map Sam was holding. "We took a quick left right after the bridge, then turned left onto some dirt road, which lasted around two minutes, and finally took a right into the farm," I outlined the path we took.
"You are good," Dean sounded impressed, and I just gave him a cold look.
"Is that why you keep me around?" I sat back in my seat, taking the map from Sam.
"Mel-" Dean started.
"You should start driving," I interrupted, not wanting to hear his reasoning behind hitting Sam. I loved Dean and I would defend him until I died, but I was also protective of Sammy, which caused different emotions to battle inside of me.
"Okay," Dean sighed, not saying anymore, just pulling out of the parking space and heading towards the bridge.
-1995-
"John," After an hour of searching, I'd finally found him at some bar two miles away from our motel. I sat down next to him, seeing an empty beer glass next to the one he was drinking from.
"Melody," He used my full name, which stung more than it should have. "Are your things packed?"
"I can't leave," He sighed heavily at my words. "You, Sam, and Dean - you're my family. You can't just send me away," He turned to look at me then, and I saw the unwillingness in his eyes.
"You can't stay," He told me with an air of finality.
"Why?" I demanded, growing annoyed. "If you're going to kick me out of this family, at least tell me why," I rarely ever stood up to John. In fact, in the course of sixteen years I'd fought him on something once.
"You and Dean…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
"We aren't related," I pointed out hotly. "We're family, but we aren't really related,"
"I know. It's not that," John's voice gained a sorrowful tone. "He loves you," My anger stopped short at his words. "And you love him," I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, but knowing I needed to say something. "Don't deny it. I've noticed it for a while now,"
"Why is that bad?" I questioned, not understanding what had made him so furious.
"I've seen couples who hunt together, Mel. It never ends well for them. Love… it messes up your game - makes you weak, vulnerable. You and Dean need to be sharp and alert. He can't be worried about you all the time, or you him," He sighed again, shaking his head, and a chill ran through my body as he spoke his next words. "It'll kill him… it'll kill you both,"
"John, we're hunters. There's always the possibility that we may not make it. It's part of the job," I tried, and he hesitated for a moment. "There's something else, isn't there?" I prompted, and he down at his beer before back at me.
"The way you look at each other - I used to look at Mary that way," My body froze as he mentioned Mary. Not only did he never mention her, but he also grew furious whenever Dean, Sam, or I did. "When she died, I didn't know if I could go on. The only thing that kept me going was the need to take care of you kids and the desire to kill that demon. I can't let Dean or you go through that ever," A silence fell after his words, and I waited a moment before I spoke.
"Do you regret loving Mary?" His eyebrows furrowed, and his face grew guarded.
"Of course not," He denied gruffly.
"Doesn't everyone deserve a chance to love somebody that much?" I questioned, and he chuckled, looking down at his glass again.
"I guess so," He agreed. "You can stay," My heart skipped at his words, but then he faced me with a cautious look in his eyes. "But when we are running a job that is the main focus. Understood?" I could read between the lines clear enough. No flirting while working.
"Understood," I could barely contain my excitement and relief about being able to stay with my family.
"Your dad and Jez are still coming to help us on the next hunt I found. We're meeting them in Montana," My excitement grew at seeing my sister and dad again, and I nodded, smiling. "Okay, now go back to the motel. I'll be in late,"
"Thank you," Was all I could think to say, and John smiled before I turned and headed out the door.
When we arrived at the farm, I instantly knew it was the right one. We hurried up the steps and in the front door, which, surprisingly, was unlocked. Inside, Lenore was tied to a chair with Gordon standing next to her with a long, wickedly sharp looking knife that was coated with a dark red, gooey liquid that I quickly realized had to be dead man's blood.
"Sam, Dean, Mel, come on in," He greeted us like we were old friends that had come to join him.
"Gordon, what's going on?" Dean asked, his voice containing uncertainty and wariness.
"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood," Gordon informed us matter-of-factly, like he was telling us what the weather was. He turned to the woman that was tied up beside him. "She's gonna tell us where all her friends are, aren't you?" I glanced at Dean to see him looking at me with hesitance. "Want to help?" Gordon questioned us.
"Look, man-" Dean started, shifting uneasily.
"Grab a knife," Gordon interrupted him brusquely, gesturing to the table. "I was just about to start in on the fingers," He drew his blade across Lenore's arm, and she let out a choked gurgle that caused me to stiffen. All I wanted to do was storm over there and rip the knife out of Gordon's hands.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?" Dean tried to diffuse the situation, but Gordon wasn't the most reasonable man we'd met.
"I'm completely chill," He told us with an eerie calm about him.
"Gordon, just drop the knife and let's talk about this before we do anything stupid," I took a step towards him as I spoke, but Dean put an arm in front of my waist, stopping me.
"It sounds like it's Mel here who needs to chill," Gordon didn't take his eyes off of me as he spoke to Dean.
"Just step away from her, all right?" Sam spoke tensely from where he stood next to Dean, and, surprisingly, Gordon heeded Sam's words.
"You're right," He threw the knife down on the table, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk," He picked up a black cover from the table and unsheathed the machete. "Might as well put her out of her misery. I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane," As if that made anything better. I slipped around Dean's arm and walked towards him quickly.
"There's no way you're killing her," I snapped at him, but I froze when his blade whipped around rest inches from my heart.
"Yes, I am, and you can't do a damn thing about it," Gordon's voice gained a threatening tone.
"Hey! Hey," Dean earned his attention as he slowly walked towards him. "Gordon, she was right. Let's just talk about this,"
"What's there to talk about?" He questioned in something close to confusion. "It's like I said, Dean - no shades of grey," My eyes flicked to Dean for a quick second before fixing on Gordon again.
"Yeah, I hear you," Dean agreed with him, but the way he looked at Gordon was different now. Dean was regarding him as if he were someone who'd just escaped from an asylum. "And I know how you feel,"
"Do you?" Gordon asked rhetorically.
"The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this-" Dean broke off as Gordon began chuckling darkly.
"Killed my sister," Gordon echoed bitterly. "That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them, so I hunted her down, and I killed her myself," My mouth formed an 'o' of shock. He killed his own sister, and he didn't even think twice about it.
"You did what?" Dean asked dumbly, not believing that Gordon could do something like that.
"It wasn't my sister anymore. It wasn't human," The knife was removed from my chest as Gordon walked towards Dean. "I didn't blink, and neither would you,"
"You knew," I realized, the knowledge making me even more furious. "You knew that they weren't hurting anyone, and yet you were still going to kill them. You really don't care,"
"Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice, taking a little time out from sucking innocent people, and we're supposed to buy that?" I glanced at Dean, who was looking between Gordon and I, unsure. "Trust me, it doesn't change what they are, and I can prove it," I had a split second to be confused before Gordon grabbed my arm tightly, taking me off guard, and he drew the knife across it, creating a thin line of blood. I hissed in pain and surprise at the sudden pain, and Gordon pressed the knife to my throat, forcing me to walk backwards towards Lenore.
"You son of a bitch," I heard the click of a gun cocking, and saw Dean holding the weapon in front of him; his eyes had lost their uncertain gleam. "Let her go," He demanded as we reached Lenore. "Now!" He snapped as Gordon didn't release me.
"Relax," Gordon told him, still maintaining that calm. "If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point," I looked down to where Lenore was looking up at my bleeding arm, and it only took me a moment to realize what he was doing. Gordon's grip tightened on my arm, causing blood to drip down onto her cheek. She gasped as another drop hit her cheek, and then her fangs came in. She hissed inhumanly up at my arm, and I swallowed hard.
"Hey!" Sam snapped, and I glanced at him briefly to see his eyes flicking from Lenore to me uncertainly.
"Think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her," My eyes dropped to Lenore's wide, fanged mouth gaping up at my bleeding cut. "They're all the same - evil, bloodthirsty,"
"No," My eyes widened slightly as she turned away from the blood. "No," She repeated, her whole figure seeming to tremble.
"You hear her, Gordon?" Sam pointed to the woman in the chair, and I carefully pushed the blade away from my neck.
"It's over," I told him as he took a step back from both her and me. I glanced at Dean and nodded to show I was alright.
"Sam, get her out of here," Dean ordered, and Sam came forward, untying her and picking her up. Gordon came forward, and Dean raised his gun again. Slowly, I stepped away from Gordon until I reached Dean's side and took a knife from the table. There was no way I was letting him handle Gordon alone. "Gordon, I think you and us have got some things to talk about,"
"Get out of my way," He commanded us, but Dean and I didn't move an inch.
"Sorry," Dean apologized without any real feeling behind it.
"You can't be serious," Gordon spoke in disbelief.
"I'm having trouble believing it, too, but I know what I saw," Dean glanced down at me as he spoke, but I kept my eyes on Gordon. "If you want those vampires you got to go through me," Gordon sighed heavily, and stuck his knife into the wood of the table.
"Fine," He agreed, and I cautiously set my knife down as well, every alarm bell I had screaming at me that this was a trap. Dean discharged his gun, and went to put the ammo in his pocket. On instinct, I stepped in front of him as he put away the ammo, and in one smooth motion Gordon was in front of me and backhanded me across the face, sending me sprawling to the ground.
He promptly got punched in the face by a infuriated Dean. I spun on the floor to look up as Gordon grabbed the knife off the table and went after Dean. I grabbed the knife that I always kept hidden in my right boot and stood quickly. Gordon swung the knife at Dean, but I stepped in front, catching his arm and jamming my small knife into the top of his shoulder. He let out a cry and dropped the knife, allowing Dean to swing him around and into the wall.
"What are you doing, man?" Gordon attempted to reason with Dean, who glared at him. "You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here," They were at a stalemate with Dean's hands gripping Gordon's shoulder's tightly, and Gordon's hands gripping Dean's in return.
"I don't think so, you sadistic bastard," I snatched the knife off the table moved silently to stand behind Gordon, nodding to Dean. Before he could do anything, Gordon's elbow came up and bashed Dean's face, causing him to stumble back, dazed for a moment. Gordon used the moment to slam his foot into Dean's gut and send him flying backwards.
"Hey!" Gordon turned at my yell, and I swung at him, only to have him catch my fist in midair. I used the reversed momentum to bring my knee up and drive the air from his lungs. He stepped back, coughing and swung a right hook, which I evaded in the knick of time. I slammed my elbow into his already hurt shoulder, making him yell in pain. Suddenly, I felt Gordon kick my legs out from under me, which caused me to hit the ground hard on my back. He turned back to Dean from where he was standing above me, and I gasped raggedly for air.
"You're not like your brother or your girlfriend," He told Dean, glaring harshly at me before facing Dean again. "You're a killer like me," For some reason, that comment sparked a rage in me that I didn't know I had.
"No, he's not," I kicked out my right leg, catching Gordon's ankles and knocking him to the ground with a thud. Dean was on top of him in a heartbeat, punching him repeatedly before dragging him up and throwing him into the mirror, making it shatter. He flipped him around, and Gordon tried to fight back, but Dean grabbed his arm, which was raised in a weak attempt at a punch, and pushed it back down. Dean regarded him for a moment before punching him again. I regained my breath as he put Gordon in a deadlock and ran him into a wall as they walked towards the chair Lenore had been in.
"Oh, sorry," I couldn't even smile at that. He sat Gordon down in the chair and tied him up as I stood and brushed myself off. Dean finished tying him off and his eyes found mine, but I just turned away and walked out the door into the cold night. "Hey," Dean caught my arm and spun me to face him. He cradled my face in his hands, turning it slightly to see my right cheek, which was probably becoming more and more black and blue as we spoke.
"Now I have one to match Sammy's," I spit out bitterly, and I saw his eyes move from anger to guilt and something else that I couldn't quite discern.
"Mel, I don't know what happened. I just…" He trailed off, and I raised my eyebrow at him.
"You just what, Dean?" I prompted, not about to let him get out of talking.
"He was right, Mel," He swallowed hard and bowed his head. "He was right about everything. I feel like there's this hole inside of me, and it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. And no matter what I do…" He shook his head.
"It doesn't change anything," I finished for him. I knew exactly what that felt like.
"When we were kids, I used to think he was indestructible, invincible. Nothing could hurt him. Now he's just gone, and I have this anger inside of me," Dean's eyes had gained a faraway look in them, and I could clearly see the tears he was blinking back.
"I know," I spoke gently, placing my hands softly on either side of his face. "I know it seems impossible, but that hole will get smaller, and the anger will ebb. One day that anger will disappear, but you can't keep everything bottled up inside forever, Dean. You have me and Sammy. Just talk to us once in awhile instead of taking your anger out on everything," I reached up and kissed him softly, feeling his hands rest on my waist. It was a slow, loving kiss that seemed to stretch out for eternity in only a few seconds. I pulled away, smiling slightly. "We should probably go back inside,"
"Gordon's all tied up," Dean shrugged, grinning at me. "We have time,"
"You're amazing," I glanced up at him and laughed lightly. "Really," He insisted, making my smile wider. "How'd you convince him to let you stay?"
"I just talked to him," My smile flattered as I remembered what John had said.
"What did he say?" Dean could read me better than anyone, and I wasn't surprised when he asked the question.
"He talked about Mary," I confessed, feeling Dean stiffen in shock. "He was worried that if one of us…" I wasn't able to finish that thought, so I just shook my head.
"Hey," I glanced up to meet Dean's eyes, and his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "Nothing's going to happen to us, all right?"
"Okay," I agreed softly, glancing up at the stars that lit up the night sky. Dean and I were sitting on the beach, leaning on a boulder that jutted out from the sand. The beach was mostly deserted except for us and a few kids farther down. I dug my toes into the sand as we sat in a comfortable silence.
"What else did he say?" Dean questioned curiously after a minute.
"He said we were a danger to each other. That we are vulnerable because of it," I was starting to see the logic in that, which scared me more than anything. "Maybe we should just stop," I hated myself for even suggesting it, but it needed to be said.
"What are you talking about?" Dean's voice held so many different emotions, it was impossible to pick out all of them.
"I'm talking about stopping this, Dean. I'm talking about… breaking up," I swallowed hard as I felt Dean freeze next to me. "John had a point, you're vulnerable when I'm with you. Maybe it's safer-"
"Stop," Dean's firm voice cut me off, and I turned to him to see there was pain and defiance in his eyes.
"Dean, I can't risk-" I began, but Dean interrupted me.
"I don't care," His words made me frown. "I don't care if I'm vulnerable when I'm with you, and I don't care what my dad thinks," My jaw popped open at his last statement. "You're worth it," A smile grew on my lips at those words, and I reached up to kiss him.
Daylight came faster slowly, and after what seemed like ages, Sam finally came through the door to stand next to Dean and I in front of the still tied up Gordon.
"I miss anything?" Sam asked, rolling up his sleeves.
"Eh, not much," Dean answered, and Sam scoffed in disbelief as he took in our beat up faces.
"Did Lenore leave?" I questioned, glancing away from Gordon.
"Yeah, all of them did," He emphasized, glaring at Gordon, who's jaw tightened as he said that.
"Then, I guess our work here is done," Dean spoke to Gordon, who glowered at him. "How are you doing, Gordie? Got to tinkle yet?" I rolled my eyes but smiled as Dean taunted him. "All right. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have them come out and untie you," Dean slammed the knife into the wood a ways behind Gordon.
"Come on," I spoke up as Dean walked back around Gordon towards us. "Let's go,"
"Not yet," He faced Gordon, looking almost bashful. "I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's - it's been real," He dealt a uppercut to Gordon's chin, sending him back in the chair with an painful thud. He turned back to us and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Okay. I'm good now. We can go," I pulled Sam along behind us before letting go of his arm as we walked out the door. Dean had bandaged my arm with the kit that we kept in the Impala, and it itched like crazy, which made me flex it and move it around some as we descended the stairs.
"Sam," I glanced up when I felt Dean release my waist to see him looking at Sammy.
"Yeah?" Sam turned to look at his brother.
"Clock me one," Despite everything, I couldn't help but smile. Dean was trying to make amends for what he'd done.
"What?" Sam asked, not understanding.
"Come on, I won't even hit you back. Let's go," Sam glanced at me uncertainly, and I grinned slightly, making him grin as well and chuckle.
"No," He answered as if it were the most obvious response in the world, which it was.
"Let's go. You get a freebie. Hit me. Come on," Dean readied himself, and Sam just waved a hand at him, scoffing at his request.
"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I'll take a rain check," I shook my head and followed Sam as he headed towards the car.
"I wish we never took this job. It just jacked everything up," I went around to the passenger's side before glancing up at Dean, Sam beside me.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.
"Think about all the hunts we went on, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing. You know? I mean, the way dad raised us,"
"Dean, after what happened to mom…" Sam began hesitantly. "Dad did the best he could,"
"I know he did, but maybe he wasn't perfect, and the way he raised us to hate those things - and, man, I hate them. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it,"
"But you didn't kill Lenore," I pointed out, and he glanced at me with sorrow in his gaze.
"No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill them all," Dean admitted, and I felt a chill go up my spine. He wasn't a killer, and he sure as hell wasn't anything like Gordon.
"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't, and that's what matters," Sam told him confidently.
"Yeah, cause you're a pain in my ass, and Mel's always right," Both Sam and I laughed at his words, and I got into the car, leaving the two boys to talk for a few more moments before Sam got in as well, Dean right after him.
"Get off of her! No, no, no. It's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean was behind me shouting at the nurse that was trying to get me out of the room. I saw him. John. Dark hair, unshaved beard, tan skin, burly. He was on the bed.
"Okay. Let's try again. An amp of atropine," The doctor was ordering the nurses, and I could hear Dean's desperate pleas next to my ear, but I didn't look away from the body on the bed.
"Okay, stop compression," The mask was removed from John's limp face. The drone of the heart monitor filled the silence of the room. "Okay, that's it everybody. I'll call it," Don't say it. Don't say it. "Time of death - 10:41,"
I jerked awake, panting and shaking for a moment before I realized where I was. I pushed the covers off the bed, suddenly feeling as though I couldn't breathe. I barely remembered to throw on a jacket before opening the door as quietly as I could and slipping out, shutting it behind me. I sped up my walk to almost a run before turning the corner. I stopped short, pressing my back against the wall and sliding down it until my butt hit the floor.
I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. Instead, I just sat there shivering and shaking in the cold night air.