**So, so, so sorry I haven't updated in about a month and a half, but everything was so chaotic with the holiday season that I had no time to do anything! I'll try to be faster from now on! Hope you all like this update! Please review and PM what you think!**
Simon Said
"What is taking him so long?" Dean grumbled, glancing in the rearview mirror to see the motel door that Sammy still hadn't come out of. I sighed in annoyance before opening my door and getting out of the car before slamming it behind me.
"I'll go check on him," I leaned through the open window as I spoke, but as soon as I finished, I straightened and walked into the surprisingly quaint motel room again. We'd just finished a job the day before in Ames, Iowa, so we had been driving for the majority of the night before I'd finally convinced the boys to check into the Blue Mountain Inn. "Sam-" The words caught in my throat as I saw the boy hunched over the sink. My eyes zeroed in on his white-knuckled grip on the edges, and my ears caught his labored breathing. It took a split second for me to register all of that, and in four steps I was beside him, my eyebrows furrowing in worry. "Sam, what-" As soon as I put my hand on his arm, a jot seemed to go through me, and pain exploded behind my eyes.
"Don't leave enough turkey behind if you ask me," A pale, burly man was giving a rifle to a taller, bigger, dark skinned man. At least, I think they were men. The shapes were fuzzy and hard to make out as if I had been wearing glasses my entire life and suddenly took them off.
"What, uh, what sort of shells does it use?" The second man had a deeper voice, and I could tell just by his confused, apprehensive voice that something was wrong. They were in a gun shop, that much was for certain. The dark-skinned man was buying a gun from the other man who seemed to be behind some sort of display. There was a light thud that I assumed was a box of shells that the owner had set down on the display.
"Right here. I'm taking the boys up to the cabin this weekend, if you're, uh…" The owner stammered a bit, and I could hear a few clicks, which meant that the other man was loading the gun. "I mean, if you think you might like to take up the sport," The buyer laughed as if that was the most ridiculous joke he'd heard in months.
"Thanks, but no. You know guns make me nervous. Always have," Something was wrong. "This one goes in here, right?" There was a click that I knew all too well as the cocking of a rifle.
"Whoa, doc! No, no, you can't load a weapon on the premises. It's illegal!" The owner now had his hands up, I think, but the other man showed no signs of being even slightly fazed.
"It's okay, Dennis," Something was off about the man's voice as he ignored the owner, Dennis's protests. "It's okay, Dennis. It's al gonna be…okay,"
"Doc!" There was a lout bang and the owner flew back and hit the wall, or maybe it was a door. A woman screamed, and the noise was taken up by a man on the other side of the store.
"No, no, it's okay. It's okay. It's all gonna be…" The gun turned so the barrel was pressed against the man's chin. "…Okay," Boom.
I gasped, staggering backwards until my back was pressed against the wall of the bathroom. Sam was panting and shaking, and I was pretty sure that I didn't look any better. I tried to slow my breathing as my hazel orbs met Sam's wide brown ones. What just happened?
"Sam? Mel? What's the hold up? Come on, let's hit the… road," Dean stopped in the doorway, frowning as he took in Sam's disheveled appearance before his eyes turned to me. I'm sure I didn't look much better. "What happened?"
"I know where we need to go," Sam announced pushing past Dean and heading for the Impala.
"He had a vision,"
"What do you mean 'you saw it, too'?" Dean questioned disbelievingly even though I'd explained it twice now.
"I told you, I walked in, saw Sam by the sink, touched his arm, and all of a sudden I could see the gun shop," Dean glanced at me from where he had been focusing on the road.
"And your sure we should go to the Roadhouse?" Dean double checked, causing me to nod determinedly. I knew that Dean was hating how helpless he felt about everything, but we needed to figure this out.
"What else do you think we should do?" I returned the question with a question, throwing my arms out to the side in frustration. Despite how much we'd tried to go at this logically and find out what was happening we still had almost nothing!
"I don't know, okay? Why don't we just chill out, think about this?" Dean tried to reason, and Sam reached up from the backseat to switch off the music and glare at his brother.
"What's there to think about?" He demanded, and I could almost feel an argument coming.
"I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea," Dean tried to stay calm, but I could tell he was getting frustrated as well.
"Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. And Mel could see it too just by touching me. That has to mean something," Sam insisted.
"He's right. What he saw in the gun shop is gonna happen, and we need Ash to tell us where," I pointed out, and Dean turned his attention back tot he road.
"Besides, it could be connected to the demon. My visions always do," Sam brought up a valid argument. We needed to find the demon and get some answers. Then we'd kill it. Not necessarily in that order.
"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if - if going in and announcing that you're both supernatural freaks with demonic connections is the best thing, okay?" I felt as though he'd just smacked me in the face.
"So we're freaks now?" I questioned, and when his eyes met mine, I could read the regret in them.
"You've always been freaks," He winked at me, and my mouth quirked at his reply. It worked; I did feel slightly better. It took another five minutes to get to the Roadhouse, and Dean parked in front. We got out and headed for the door, Dean slipping an arm around my waist as we walked. I briefly wondered if Max was still here. Last I'd heard, he had decided to take up Ellen's offer of a spare room in the back. I ignored the looks from other hunters as we walked up to Jo, who was standing in front of the counter.
"Just can't stay away, huh?" She questioned us, grinning slightly. I let out a small laugh at her cheekiness.
"Looks like it. How are things?" I replied, glancing around, and her smile stiffened slightly causing me to frown. Her eyes turned hard and hostile as they fell on me.
"FIne," Her response was curt, and I glanced at Dean before looking back at Jo uncertainly. Last time I'd left we'd been on good terms, so why the sudden hostility?
"Where's Ash?" Sam cut into our tense conversation.
"In his back room," She responded, jerking her chin to the right.
"Sorry. He's - we're kind of on a bit of a timetable," Dean apologized as we moved around her to follow Sam. We reached the room in the back that I assumed was Ash's, for it had a wooden sign nailed to it that read 'Dr. Badass is in' in big, bold letters.
"Ash?" Sam called as he knocked loudly on the door. "Ash?" He called again, and I didn't need my abilities to hear the TV that was playing loudly from inside. Sam knocked again. "Hey, Ash?" Finally, he leaned against the doorframe and gave us an exasperated look.
"Hey, Dr. Badass?" Dean tried, knocking on the door as well. There was the click of the lock from inside, and Dean shot Sam a smirk before Ash opened the door. It took me a stunned moment to register that he was absolutely buck naked before I snapped my head to the side and Dean's hand covered my eyes, making me work to stifle a laugh.
"Sam. Dean. Mel," He sniffed loudly after he said all of our names. I didn't remember ever feeling more awkward. "Sam and Dean and Mel,"
"Hey, Ash, why aren't you-" I started to ask the question that I'm sure we all wanted to ask when Sam cut me off.
"We need your help," Sam spoke with awkward urgency.
"Hell, then, guess I need my pants," The door shut, and Dean and I made our way back to the bar at a fast walk.
"Mel?" My head snapped up at the familiar voice, and I smiled when I saw who was walking towards me, leaving Dean's side to greet him.
"Max, hey," I hugged him tightly before letting go and stepping back. "How've you been?" He shrugged, glancing back at Ellen and Jo, who were tending the bar.
"I bartend now," He told me, and I laughed slightly.
"You, Maxwell Stith, have a job?" I could not believe that was true.
"Well, between hunts, but yeah," He shrugged again. "It's not so bad,"
"Weren't you the one that once said 'having a job is like binding yourself to the devil'?" Max rolled his eyes but cracked a smile.
"Times change," He confessed, glancing backwards again, and I smiled slightly at him. "So, how've you been holding up?" His voice lost its joking tone and grew serious.
"Fine," It was my turn to shrug unconcernedly.
"How about your boys?" I glanced at where Sam and Dean had taken a seat at the counter.
"They're alright. We're managing," I tried to sound confident, but it was strained. Truth was, I was starting to feel like the three of us were standing on the edge of a cliff, never knowing when we could fall off. Dean was hiding something, that much I was sure. He had been acting off ever since John's death. Sam was on edge constantly. He was worried, really worried. And me, I'd already lost it once with Dean in that motel room a few weeks ago. I didn't want to loose it again.
"If you ever need anything, we're here," Max nodded backwards to encompass Jo, Ellen, and Ash in his statement.
"Thanks, Max," I smiled slightly before my attention focused on Sam and Dean, who had begun to talk to Ash. "I should get back to them," I told him, and he nodded understandingly. I took a seat next to Dean when I'd reached them.
"It's the logo for the Blue Ridge bus lines," Ash was explaining what he'd found based on Sam's sketch of the bus logo. "Guthrie, Oklahoma,"
"Okay, do me a favor, check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that," Sam told him, and Ash began typing furiously.
"You think the demon is there?" Ash questioned curiously.
"Yeah, maybe," He replied.
"Why would you think that?" Ash asked, and I instantly grew wary of his curiosity.
"Just check it, all right?" Dean demanded from where he was now standing behind Ash.
"Please," I added as Ash glared at Dean for his tone. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the man had a problem with authority. His eyes fixed on me for a moment before he went back to typing.
"No, ma'am, nothing. No demon," Ash announced, and I was leaning back in my seat dejectedly when an idea hit me.
"What about a house fire?" I inquired, and Ash turned his eyes on me, his brow furrowed. "Can you search Guthrie for a house fire? It should be…" I did a quick mental calculation. "…1983. Should've started in a nursery when the kid was six months," I didn't take my eyes off the screen as I asked the question, but I could feel Ash looking at Sam and Dean.
"Okay, now that is just weird. Why the hell would I be looking for that?" He asked me, and I took my eyes away from the screen to focus on his face, but before I could answer, Dean did.
"'Cause there's a PBR in it for you," Dean set the beer down beside Ash's laptop on the table.
"Give me fifteen minutes," I grinned at Ash's response before Dean and I left his side to sit down at a table on the opposite side of the bar. 'Can't fight this feeling' started playing on the jukebox, and I glanced up to see Jo walking away from it to sit beside Max. A small smile formed on my lips.
"What?" My eyes flicked to Dean briefly before I nodded at where Max and Jo were talking.
"They'd be cute together," Dean looked back at them and shrugged. "Maybe you could stop hating him,"
"I don't hate him," Dean protested, but I just raised an eyebrow at him. "What can I say? Guy's a dick,"
"He's changed," I'd been trying to get Dean to see that for years now.
"Yeah," Dean muttered, regarding his beer for a moment before taking another drink from it and turning to me. He studied my features intently, as if he was memorizing them.
"What?" I furrowed my brow, which made his mouth twitch up in a brief smile.
"Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am," I glanced away from him briefly before looking back.
"Okay, what's wrong?" I was done with this. I loved him with all of my soul, but something was wrong. Dean wasn't normally this… openly romantic. He was hiding something, and it had been eating away at him for a while now.
"What?" Dean seemed surprised by the question. "Why do you think something's wrong?"
"Because I know you," I replied, and his eyes returned to the beer in his hands.
"You're right," He faced me again, and I met his eyes, waiting for him to continue. "They would be cute," His eyes flicked to Max and Jo and then back to me. I scoffed at the poorly veiled change in subject. "Even if she does like R.E.O. Speedwagon,"
"Hey, Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart," Sometimes with Dean it was better to accept that he'd tell me when he was ready.
"He sings it from the hair. There's a difference," I laughed lightly, conceding his point.
"Sounds good either way," I pointed out, and Dean grinned. The sound of bickering reached my ears, and I glanced back at where Jo was now standing and crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at Max, who looked frustrated.
"Trouble in paradise?" I hit Dean on the arm lightly as he chuckled. "I meant it, you know," I turned back to him to see him already gazing at me. "I am lucky," I smiled slightly as he leaned towards me, and his lips brushed mine.
"That profile you've got Ash looking for?" Dean pulled away from me and sighed in annoyance before straightening in his seat. We both turned to face Jo, who set down the empty glasses she was carrying on the counter. "You moms died the same way, didn't they? A fire in the nursery?" Dean and I both tensed as she talked, and I reached in front of Dean to take a drink of his beer as he answered. I needed a drink.
"Look, Jo, it's kind of a family thing," He started uncertainly.
"I could help," She insisted.
"I know you could," I set the beer down on the table, and her eyes turned hard again as she looked at me. "This is just something we have to do alone. Besides, if you came with us on a hunt, I think your mother might kill us," My eyes passed Jo and landed on Ellen who was cleaning glasses at the far side of the bar.
"You're afraid of my mother?" Jo challenged, raising her eyebrows at us.
"I think so," Dean answered for both of us as Jo smirked. Just then, Sam walked up to us, his face telling us everything we needed to know.
"We have a match. We got to go," He held up the file in his hand, and Dean and I stood.
"See you later, Jo," I gave her a small, strained smile as she gave me a hard look. I'd have to ask Ellen why she hated me so much. I thought we were fine.
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with my back against the door behind Dean's seat and my legs resting on the backseats of the Impala as we rode towards Guthrie, Oklahoma. Dean was singing 'Can't Fight This Feeling' while he drove, and Sam and I were trying to learn what we could from the files that Ash had printed.
"You're kidding, right?" I glanced up at Sam's annoyed face as he looked at Dean.
"The song was playing back at the Roadhouse," I explained for him. I had kind of accepted it without noticing and was able to concentrate on the file without being distracted. Apparently Sam wasn't so lucky.
"I can't get it out of my head," Dean added, looking almost embarrassed. "I don't know, man. What do you got?"
"Andrew Gallagher," Sam read off the file. "Born in '83, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, like me and Mel,"
"You think the demon killed his mom?" Dean questioned.
"Looks that way," I answered, studying the picture of his driver's license.
"How did you know to look for this guy?" This time, Dean's question was directed at me.
"All of Sam's premonitions are related to the demon or his… children. Remember Max Miller?" I swallowed the painful memory of the boy that I couldn't save.
"Yeah, but Max Miller was a basic, little psycho," I flinched at Dean's flippant words. He wasn't a psycho. He just had a hard past. I glanced up and caught Sam looking at me before his eyes flicked to Dean again.
"Point is he was killing people, and I was having the same type of visions about him, and now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy,"
"How do we find him?" Dean thankfully moved away from the topic of Max Miller.
"That's going to be difficult," I rejoined the conversation. "There's no current address, and no employment either. He also owes money on all of his bills - water, phone, credit, electricity."
"Collection Agency flags?" Dean questioned.
"Not in the system," Sam replied, making me frown. That was odd. Maybe it had something to do with his abilities.
"They just let him take a walk?" Dean reiterated in shock.
"Seems like it," Sam confirmed, just as surprised as Dean.
"Oh, here," I found something that could be useful. "There's a work address from his last job about a year ago. We should start there, ask around," I reasoned and both boys nodded in agreement.
"You won't get anything out of Andy, guys," The woman pouring our coffee, who's name was Tracy, informed us apologetically. "I'm sorry, but they never do,"
"'They'?" Sam prompted.
"You're debt collectors, right?" She checked with us, but didn't wait for a response. "Once in a while, they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back,"
"Actually, we're lawyers," Dean told her. "Representing his great-aunt Lita. She passed - God rest her soul - but left Andy a sizable estate," Dean made that up on the spot.
"Yeah," I agreed, refocusing my attention on her. "You're a friend of his?"
"I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore," She looked down at her hands, her face twisting into an expression of sorrow and nostalgia. It only took me a moment to realize that look. She loves him.
"Andy?" Another boy with a cloth over his shoulder set down a tray on our table. "Andy kicks ass, man," He sat down like he owned the place.
"Is that right?" Dean asked him.
"Yeah, Andy can get you into anything. Man, he even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro," The man spoke, grinning in excitement.
"How about busing a table or two, Webber?" Webber glanced up at Tracy, who had put a hand on her hip and was looking down at him admonishingly.
"Yeah, you bet, boss," He took the tray and headed into the back of the restaurant. I frowned at the chill that came over me; the restaurant was actually quite warm.
"Look, if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with the barbarian queen painted on the side," She informed us, and my eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Barbarian queen?" Dean echoed.
"She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss," We paid and left the restaurant to go in search of the van with a barbarian queen riding a polar bear painted on the side. We found it exactly where she said we would. Orchard Street.
"I'm sorry. I'm starting to like this dude," Dean confessed, and I didn't blame him. I was starting to like him, too. "That van is sweet," I laughed, glancing back at Sam only to frown.
"What?" Dean glanced back as well at my question.
"Nothing," Sam answered.
"You look like you have a lemon in your mouth. What's wrong?" I prompted, and finally, Sam sighed and gave in.
"This Andrew Gallagher - he's the second guy like this we've found, guys. Demon came to them when they were kids. Now they're killing people," Sam stated the facts, and I swallowed hard. Truth be told, I had been trying to keep thoughts like that at bay for a while now. Ever since Max.
"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent," Dean denied.
"My visions haven't been wrong yet," Sam pointed out.
"But you didn't actually see Andrew Gallagher there," I spoke logically. "Maybe it's something else,"
"And someone whose mother died exactly the same way as ours just happens to be here?" Sam asked sarcastically.
"What's your point?" Dean snapped, getting a bit annoyed with Sam's pessimism.
"My point is I'm one of them. So is Mel," My breath caught in my throat as he spoke the words I'd been thinking since Max.
"No, you're not. Neither of you are like them," Dean argued.
"Dean, the demon said he had plans for us and children like us," Dean looked away when Sam mentioned when the demon had spoken to us. It was hard to forget that.
"Yeah?" He looked back, his eyes expressionless.
"What if this is his plan? Maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks. Maybe we're all supposed to be-"
"Killers?" I finished for him, causing him to stop his rant. "Sam, just because we met one, maybe two, kids that turned out that way doesn't mean it's going to happen to us. We're not murderers, Sam,"
"She's right. Neither of you could be murderers. You don't have it in your bones," Dean backed me up.
"No?" Sam echoed, and it was obvious what he was thinking of as he turned to meet my eyes. "Last I checked, we kill all kinds of things,"
"Those things deserve it. And they're not humans," I spoke with an air of finality that put an end to our conversation. Sam slid back in the backseat, and I glanced at Dean to see he'd turned away to look out the window. Wordlessly, I slid my finger's through his and felt his hand tighten around mine. I turned my attention out the passenger's window so neither boy would be able to read the doubt and fear in my eyes. Suddenly, my eyes caught the familiar face coming out of one of the doors. "There," I pointed to the man who was walking towards his van. He looked up and waved, making my eyes flick up to the pretty blonde, who was in a bathrobe and looked smitten. My eyebrows rose at the league difference there. He turned away and continued up the street before stopping to talk to a man. In four seconds flat the man had given Andrew his coffee and continued on.
"That's him, that older guy. That's him. He's the shooter," I followed Andrew to where he shook hands with the dark-skinned man from the vision.
"Well, you two keep on him. I'll stick with Andy," Dean instructed, and I nodded.
"Be careful," I kissed Dean briefly before getting out of the car with Sam.
"Always am," Dean replied cockily, which made me roll my eyes but smile. I usually don't kiss Dean every time we separate on a job, but I had this weird feeling that I should. I shook it off and focused on tailing the man in the brown suit. We tailed him all the way down Chesnut Avenue before he made a right onto Washington Street. That's when his cell rang, and he answered.
"Can you hear who it is?" Sam asked me, and I held up a finger, concentrating on the phone.
"Hello?" The man answered.
. . . . I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back, clutching my head. The words echo, overlap and envelop each other in a way that I really didn't like.
"What? What is it? Mel?" Sam's concerned voice brought me back to the present, and I shook my head.
"The voice on the other line sounds weird. Like… echoey," I shook my head again. "Come on," I ran across the street with Sam hurrying after me. I didn't slow down until I was inside the gun shop, and then I looked around for a way to stop what was about to happen. I found it. Sam had just entered when I pulled the fire alarm, setting off an obnoxious blaring noise. Sam and I descended the steps to see the Impala going by, but it wasn't Dean in the front seat, it was Andrew.
"Is that…" Sam trailed off. What was going on here. Suddenly, my attention was caught by the ring of a phone. This time, I just focused on the doctor's side of the conversation.
"Hello?…Yeah… All right," The man snapped the phone shut, and I glanced at Sam to see that he was on the phone as well.
He just sort of asked me for it and I let him take it.
"You what?" Sam questioned incredulously. Mind control. Andrew Gallagher could control people's minds. I looked back across the street to find the man was walking towards the end of the street. And then I knew what was going to happen. All the pieces clicked together, and I began sprinting towards the doctor. "Mel!" I ignored Sam's shouts as I saw the man beginning to cross the street during a green light.
"Hey, stop!" I tried yelling at the man who was inches from his death. He didn't even slow down at my shout.
"Melody!" Sam screamed just as I reached the suicidal man. Suddenly, I was yanked backwards just as the bus plowed into the doctor. I turned to see who had saved me, but the man brushed past me quickly, running into the gathering crowd. I made a move to follow him, but another grip on my arm prevented me.
"Mel, are you okay? What were you thinking?" Sam's worried voice brought my attention to him, and I blinked, shaking my head to rid myself of all other thoughts.
"He was going to kill himself, Sam. Of course I was going to try to help him," I stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"You almost got yourself killed," He snapped angrily.
"I'm fine, aren't I?" I gestured down at myself, and Sam let out a noise of frustration in the back of his throat.
"Another second and you wouldn't have been," I sighed heavily. Honestly, I hadn't even registered the danger. I'd just realized that if I didn't do something an innocent man was going to die. "If it hadn't been for the guy that pulled you out of the way-"
"Did you see him?" I questioned, interrupting Sam. I knew he was worried about me and scared for my safety, but something inside of me wouldn't let me worry about how close I'd come to an early grave. Something inside of me urged me to find out who my rescuer had been.
"No, he was wearing a hoodie," Sam's breathing was returning to normal now. "Don't do something like that again," I nodded, my legs shaking slightly as the adrenaline and shock began to wear off.
"Not planning on it," My voice shook slightly as I realized just how close I'd come to being a pancake. The air was already filling with sirens, and Sam and I walked farther down the road to see the body of the man that had been hit. The police began asking the crowd questions, and, of course, everybody pointed to me. "Did you tell Dean where we were?" Sam felt his pockets for a moment before a look of realization crossed his face.
"I dropped my phone by the gun store," As if on cue, mine rang, and I handed it to Sam, who nodded and answered.
"Excuse me, Miss," I focused on the police officer that was looking at me. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" I nodded, and he took out a pencil and paper.
"I was over there by the gun store and the man-"
"Dr. Jennings," The officer interrupted.
"Dr. Jennings," I corrected myself, smiling a strained smile. "Started crossing the street. I saw the bus coming and started running towards him," I stuck to the truth for the most part. I left out the bit about the phone calls and the gun store, but other than that I was honest. I was rescued by someone I didn't know. He ran off before I could get a good look.
"Mel!" I glanced up to see Dean walking over quickly. He kissed me passionately for a moment before pulling back and cradling my face between his hands. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm okay," I answered, glancing at the police officer, who was looking away uncomfortably. "Am I done?"
"Yeah, I've got everything," Dean, Sam, and I sat down a small ways away on a short wall that surrounded one of the trees that lined the road.
"I heard the bus, and I saw him crossing the road," I spoke, breaking the silence. "I thought if I could get to him," Dean's arms tightened around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and I felt his lips pressed to my hair.
We walked for six blocks before we found the Impala parked outside Tracy's restaurant, and I'd never felt more relieved to see the Impala in my life. The first part of the walk, Dean had glared at Sam and snapped at him for not paying attention and helping me with Dr. Jennings. The second half was spent complaining about the car. Dean wasn't having the best day.
"Thank God!" Dean exclaimed when the Impala came into view. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again,"
"You talking to me or the car?" I questioned, causing Sam to let out a small laugh.
"I can't be talking about both?" Dean grinned, pecking me on the lips again before sliding into the driver's seat.
"Hey, he left the keys in it," I jerked my chin at the car keys that were still in the ignition.
"Yeah, real samaritan, this guy," Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"It looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose," Dean switched to hunter mode, and I nodded in agreement.
"Right he has to speak to them. The doctor had just hung up his cell," I remembered.
"Andy must've called him or something," Sam agreed.
"I don't know maybe," Dean sounded unsure as he spoke.
"Beg your pardon?" Sam asked incredulously, but I agreed with Dean. I wasn't so sure it was Andy. I mean, the guy had a barbarian queen painted on the side of his van.
"I just don't know if he's our guy," Dean told him.
"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white bronco, and you have doubts about this?" Sam questioned.
"I agree, Sam. Andy doesn't seem like a killer to me," I argued, and Sam scoffed at our doubts.
"Exactly," Dean agreed, glancing at me before turning back to Sam. "And O.J. was guilty,"
"Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?" Sam asked, throwing his hands out to the side in exasperation.
"Not a problem," I glanced at Dean to see he had that sexy smirk spread across his lips. We got in and he drove to where Andy had left his blue van. We walked up to the back of it, and Dean turned to face us.
"Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look," Dean popped the lock and opened the doors. "Oh, come on," My jaw popped open as I took in Andy's home. "This is - this is magnificent. That's what this is,"
"Still think he's a killer?" I questioned, glancing at Sam.
"Yeah, there's no clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger," Dean mused, getting sidetracked by the large painting of the animal that took up an entire wall.
"Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein?" Sam went through his books."That's some pretty heavy reading, guys,"
"Yeah, not to mention Moby Dick's bong," I held up the thing that was longer than my arm. Well, I was convinced. Andrew Gallagher wasn't a killer.
Dean made a noise of disgust as he finished his fast food burger. Mine lay on the dashboard in front of me, two thirds uneaten. Usually, I would've eaten it anyway; I'd grown used to crappy food, but this burger was particularly bad.
"You know, one day I'd love to just sit down and eat something I didn't have to microwave at a minimart," Dean complained.
"I second that," I agreed, making a face as I realized I could still taste the burger on the roof of my mouth.
"What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean," Sam went on with the case, ignoring our wishful thinking. "Why would Andy waste him?"
"If it is Andy," I reminded him. The more I thought about it, the more confident I grew that it wasn't Andy.
"Guys, enough," Sam finally gave into his annoyance.
"Why?" Dean demanded.
"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math," Sam laid out the facts.
"I just have a feeling he isn't the guy we're looking for,"
"Well, how the would either of you know? Why are you two bending backwards defending him?" Sam snapped at us.
"'Cause you're not right about this," Dean told him defiantly.
"About Andy?" He questioned.
"Hey!" There was a thud on the roof, and then Andy's face appeared outside my window, causing me to have a mini heart attack. "You think I haven't seen you three?" His eyes flicked back to where Sam was sitting in the backseat and then focused on Dean. "Why are you following me?" I barely made out the words, for they had the same effect as the voice on the phone, but I could control it slightly better now. They were still distorted and echoey, but I could make out what they were.
"We're lawyers," I spoke, praying that Dean wouldn't say anything. "A relative of yours-"
"Tell the truth!" I was getting better at cutting out the echoey distortion of the words and just hearing them. I barely even flinched that time.
"What do you think I'm doing-" I began.
"We hunt demons," Dean interrupted me, and I turned my wide eyes on him in surprise.
"What?" Andy asked incredulously.
"Dean-" My hand clutched his shoulder tighter.
"Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Mel here is my girlfriend, and behind me that's Sam, my brother," He continued in a slightly strained voice.
"Dean, shut up," Sam hissed at him.
"I'm trying," He got out, glancing at Sam then me then back at Andy. "Their psychic, like you. Well, not really like you, but Sam thinks your a murderer. Mel thinks your not. We were arguing before you got here. They're afraid they're gonna become murderers themselves cause you're all part of something that's terrible. I hope to hell that they're wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that they might be right. I'm worried-" I efficiently shut him up by pressing my lips to his. His tense muscles relaxed slowly, and I pulled away when I heard Sam's car door open.
"Stay here," I told Dean, who just nodded, holding his head in his hand and groaning slightly. For a moment, I debated staying, but I got out in case Sam needed backup.
"What are you doing?" Andy held his hands out to stop the determined Sam. "L-look, I said leave me alone," I fell into step beside Sam. "Get out of here. Just start driving and never stop!"
"Andy, just listen. It doesn't work on us," I held up my hands in surrender, and put a hand on Sam's shoulder to stop his advance.
"What?" He took a step away from us.
"You can make people do things, right? You can say things and they'll do it," I spoke to him, and he scoffed, shaking his head.
"That's crazy," He told me, and my mouth twitched up in a small smile.
"It started about a year ago," I went on, and his eyes widened slightly. "Right after you turned twenty-two. It began with headaches and then you could do little stuff, but then you began to control it,"
"How do you know all this?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"'Cause the same thing happened to us," Sam told him. "Our moms died in a fire, too. We have abilities, too. You see, we're connected, the three of us," Andy put his hands on top of his head and began breathing harder.
"Sam, stop," I ordered, focusing on Andy, who was crouching down now.
"You know what? Just - just get out of here," Andy snapped at us.
"Why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?" Sam demanded, and I turned a glare on him.
"Sam!"
"What?" Andy asked, his eyes widening in horror and confusion. I opened my mouth to explain when Sam hissed, and my eyes snapped to him. His eyes were screwed shut, and he wore a look I knew well.
"Dean," I glanced back at Dean, knowing that I couldn't touch Sam unless I wanted another vision, which I didn't. The last one had hurt pretty badly.
"Why did you tell the doctor to kill himself?" Sam glared at Andy, who looked bewildered and a bit concerned.
"I didn't," Sam staggered, holding his head, and Andy's eyes turned on me. "What's happening to him?" Dean grabbed his brother's arm tightly to keep him from hitting the ground.
"Sam? What is it?" Dean questioned desperately as they both sunk to the ground.
"I didn't do anything to him," Andy told us as I knelt beside Sam, careful not to touch him.
"A woman. A woman burning alive," Sam managed to get out in a strained, pained voice. "A gas station. A woman is gonna kill herself," Sam continued.
"What does he mean 'going to'?" Andy asked.
"Shut up," Dean ordered him, and Andy obeyed without hesitation.
"She gets triggered by a call on her cell," Sam glowered at Andy as Dean and I helped him to his feet.
"When?" Dean questioned.
"Doesn't matter. As long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her," Sam reasoned, but I glanced back at Andy unsurely.
"I didn't hurt anybody," He protested.
"I believe him. I still don't think he's our…" I trailed off as I began to hears something, "…Killer," I finished distractedly. "Guys, sirens," A moment later the wailing of ambulance sirens could be heard.
"Go," Sam looked at Dean as he spoke. Dean glanced at me uncertainly, and I couldn't help but smile slightly at his concern.
"Go, I'll be fine," Dean got into the Impala and drove off after the ambulances. Andy made a move towards his van, but Sam stopped him.
"Not you. You're staying here with us," Sam instructed him, and Andy didn't argue.
"How did you know the ambulances were coming? I couldn't hear anything," Andy asked me, and I debated for a brief moment before deciding to trust him. My feelings were never wrong. Why start doubting them now?
"It's like Dean said. I'm a psychic like you, but not really like you. I have… abilities too," We sat in silence for a few minutes before my phone rang. I didn't bother checking the caller ID before answering.
"Hey, babe, it's me. She burned up. Just like Sam said," He informed me.
"Just now?" I hadn't heard anything. With Max, I'd heard the deaths as they were happening. With this, I hadn't heard anything.
"Yeah, minutes before I got here. I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with Sam's visions? This wasn't even a head start," I sighed dejectedly. Another person we couldn't save.
"I don't know. He can't control them. But we've been with Andy this whole time, and he hasn't made any calls," I told him, glancing at the man sitting behind me.
"It's got to be somebody else," Dean realized.
"Yeah, I think so. Can you ask around, see what else you can find? I'm going to talk to Andy," I turned back to where Sam was glaring distrustingly at Andy, who was looking back confusedly.
"Yeah, be careful. No jumping in front of busses to save doctors," I let out a small laugh at his quip.
"No promises," I heard his chuckle on the other end of the line before it went dead. I shoved the phone back into my pocket and turned to Sam. "She died a few minutes ago. Dean's looking around to see if he can find anything there,"
"You get these premonitions of people about to die?" Andy reiterated, staring at Sam, who just nodded. "And you have super hearing?" My mouth quirked up in a small smile at his choice of words. "That's impossible,"
"You're right," I agreed. "It's almost as impossible as mind control," Andy let out a small laugh of concession.
"Death visions?" Andy asked for the third time.
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"Dude, that sucks," I laughed at his bluntness. "Super hearing isn't so bad," I shrugged. It could have been a lot worse. "When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift. It was like I won the lotto,"
"But you still live in a van," Sam pointed out. "I don't get it. You could have anything you ever wanted,"
"Yeah, but I-I got everything I need," He chuckled, and I smiled a bit. I was liking him more and more every second.
"So, I guess you aren't the killer," I gave Sam a pointed look to which he responded with his hands up in surrender.
"That's what I've been trying to tell you guys," Andy grinned, and I smiled back.
"That's good. That means there's hope for the three of us," Sam spoke solemnly, and I squeezed his shoulder lightly before standing.
"Dean's back," A moment later there was the rev of the Impala's engine, and Dean pulled in.
"I take it back. Super hearing is pretty cool," I grinned at Andy as Dean got out of the car and came over to us.
"Victim's name was Holly Beckett. Forty-one. Single," I turned to Andy.
"Know her?" I prompted, and he shook his head.
"Never heard of her,"
"I called Ash on the way over here. He came up with a little something. Apparently Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old - back in 1983 - same day you were born, Andy," Dean let the implication hang in the air.
"You were adopted?" I asked him.
"Well, yeah," He spoke nonchalantly as if it were no big deal that he'd had the key to this whole case the whole time and never bothered to share.
"You were? And you neglected to mention that?" Dean spoke in annoyance.
"Never really came up. I mean, I never knew my birth parents, and, like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly woman could actually be my-"
"I don't know," Dean answered before Andy was done asking the question. "Tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office,"
"Well, screw that," We all turned to Andy.
"Probably shouldn't have let you kids in here," The officer told us, sounding confounded by his own decision.
"No. It'll all be fine, all right? Just go get a cup of coffee," Dean set down a cardboard box next to me as the guard started to walk away. "These aren't the droids you're looking for,"
"Awesome," Dean grinned just as I snapped my fingers and pointed to the paper.
"Here it is," Andy sat down next to me and Dean leaned over my shoulder. "Andy, it's true. She's your birth mom,"
"Does anyone have a vicodin?" He asked, causing me to laugh lightly.
"Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them," Sam informed us, glancing at Andy.
"Yeah, but I didn't kill them," Andy protested, his voice beginning to get defensive.
"We believe you," Dean assured him, giving Sam a look. "But then who did?" He posed the question that needed to be answered soon otherwise more people would die.
"I think I know," I announced, taking a deep breath. "Holly Beckett had twins,"
"I have an evil twin," Three minutes later, Andy had repeated that phrase seventeen times. Dean, Sam, and I were working to get more information on Andy's twin brother.
"Holly put you both up for adoption. You went to the Gallagher family, but your brother went to a Mr. and Mrs. Weems," I read off the sheet, glancing up at him to see he was a couple shades paler than when we'd first met. "Andy, are you okay?"
"Um… what was my brother's name?" He questioned, looking up at me from his seat on the chair.
"Ansem Weems?" Andy shook his head.
"He's got a local address," Sam added, looking over my shoulder at the file in my hands.
"He lives here?" Andy questioned, his eyebrows raising in disbelief.
"Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming over from the DMV right now," I glanced up at Dean to see him standing by the printer. He took the printed pictures, flipping through them, his eyes widening fractionally in surprise. "Hate to kick you while your freaked," He handed Andy the picture, and Andy stared at it for a moment before raising his head and staring at us in shock. I moved around the chair to get a look at the driver's license. It was the boy from the restaurant.
"We've got to go," I picked up my stuff, and Sam grabbed his bag before we headed out the door as fast as we could. Could he have been the guy that saved me from the bus? Was that possible? He was the right height and build for it.
"All right, Andy," Sam started, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Tell us everything you know about this guy,"
"I mean, I don't know much. Webber shows up one day, like eight months ago, acting like he's my best friend in the world. He's kind of weird, like trying too hard, you know?"
"He must know you're his twin," I reasoned; it was the only logical explanation.
"Why did he change his name? Why not just tell you the truth?" Dean fired questions that Andy had no answer to.
"Sam?" Concern laced my voice as I saw the boy groan and hold his head.
"Sam!" Dean called to him, but it didn't help. Sam kept groaning and clutching his head.
"Dean, pull over," I commanded and was out of the car almost before he'd stopped fully. I yanked the passenger's door open and knelt beside him. "You're okay. You're okay," I reassured him as he looked around, disoriented.
"What'd you see?" Dean asked him from behind me.
"A dam," He answered.
Ten Minutes Later
"Stay here," I ordered Andy, barely glancing at him as I got out of the car and walked to the trunk with Sam and Dean. Dean took out his keys and unlocked the trunk, propping the false bottom open with a rifle.
"Dean, you need to stay back," I told him, expecting an argument.
"No argument here," I was a bit surprised that he gave in so easily, but I wasn't about to argue. "I had my head screwed with enough for one day," I took out a silver gun and tucked it in the waistband of my jeans before pulling my jacket over it.
"I'm coming with you," Andy crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest.
"Andy, no-" Sam began.
"That's Tracy out there, and I'm coming," He stated, leaving no room for arguments.
"Okay," Both boys looked at me as if I had lost my mind. "He can't be controlled and we need all the back up we can get," I explained before turning back to Andy. "We'll deal with Andy. You get Tracy out, got it?" Andy nodded dutifully, and I nodded back. "Okay," I slammed the trunk closed as Sam and Andy began to head towards the dam.
"Be careful," In answer, I pressed my lips against Dean's.
"I love you," Then I turned and disappeared after Sam and Andy. I prayed to God Dean wouldn't move. I arrived at the car just as Sam bashed in the window and held a gun on Webber.
"Get out of the car! Now!" He demanded, and I cocked my gun as well and held it so it was pointed right between his eyes.
"You really don't want to do this,"I could hear the distortion in his voice, and I punched him in the face.
"Andy!" I snapped, and the man yanked open the passenger's door and helped Tracy. "Don't move!" I ordered Webber as I taped his mouth shut and Sam had him in a deadlock.
"I'll kill him!" Andy yelled, slamming his foot into Webber's gut.
"No! Hey!" I grabbed Andy and hauled him backwards. "Stop! Remember what I said! You have to get Tracy out of here, okay?" There was a grunt, and Sam suddenly slumped onto me, making me stagger under the sudden weight. Tracy drew back to hit me, but Andy stood in front of me, holding out his arm.
"Stop it! I said, stop it!" She dropped the tree branch, her eyes shining with tears. I lowered Sam slowly to the ground, cradling his face between my hands.
"Sammy, hey," I checked his pulse, which was strong. He was just knocked out.
"How did you do that?" Andy asked, his voice wavering.
"Practice, bro," Webber replied flippantly. "If you just practiced, you would know," My fingers wrapped around the gun that I had dropped when Sam had fallen on me. "Sometimes…you don't need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this," He tapped his fingers against his forehead. "Sometimes the headache is worth it,"
"You twisted son of a bitch!" Andy attacked him.
"Stop!" I snapped, standing and aiming the gun directly at Webber.
"You know I saved your life," A chill ran through me. So it was him. "You would kill someone that saved your life?"
"Why?" I asked him, already knowing the answer but needing him to say it. "Why save me?" I asked again, more forcefully.
"Because, you're the one that's supposed to live," He grinned at me. "The yellow-eyed man said so," I swallowed hard at his response. "Now, you're gonna drop the gun, or Tracy is going to go flying," My head snapped to the side to see Tracy on the edge of the dam. I dropped the gun and held up my hands. Webber began talking to Andy, but I heard a snap that made me focus on the Impala.
"Sam," My whisper was barely audible, and he didn't wake up. "Sam," I tried again, shaking his shoulders roughly. He shifted slightly. "Dean's not by the Impala," Sam nodded, already guessing my plan. I slowly backed away from the car and from where Andy was distracting Webber. Once I was out of sight, I stole through the brush as fast as I dared go.
The man with the yellow eyes. I heard Webber saying.
What are you talking about? Andy sounded scared out of his mind, and I closed my eyes, searching for Dean's footsteps while trying to block out the conversation that was happening. I heard light footsteps to my right, and I slowed my pace through the undergrowth.
See, he's the one that told me that I have a brother. A twin. Webber went on spouting craziness. That man was a basic psycho. Not Max. They ruined our lives, Andy! We could've been together this whole time instead of alone! I was almost to him. Just a few more meters. I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them get away with that. No. Suddenly, there was a very audible click of a sniper rifle being cocked, and I winced at how loud it was. It may as well have been a cannon fire. I froze as Webber turned his eyes upward to look directly Dean, who was still a good ten yards away.
"I see you," I abandoned precaution and started running. Webber whipped around and swore furiously. "Bye-bye,"
"Dean, stop!" I could see him tilting the gun up so the barrel was pressed firmly under his chin. I lunged at him, grabbing the gun and shoving it aside just as twin shots were fired simultaneously.
"Look at him. He's getting better at it," Sam noted from where he sat, watching Andy charm the cops into letting us go without a statement. Dean was leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around my waist, and my head rested on his shoulder. Dean and I straightened as Andy walked up to us.
"She won't even look at me," He looked at the floor dejectedly.
"Give her time. She's just shaken up," I tried to reassure him, but there was little I could say without lying.
"No, it's - this is different. This is - I never used my mind thing on her before - before last night. She's scared of me now,"
"Andy, I hate to do this, but, um… we have to get out of here," Sam told him apologetically.
"Here," I fished a piece of paper out of my pocket and handed it to him. "I wrote down my number," He tried to give a laugh, but it was strained.
"Not a bad way to end all this - pretty girl giving me her number," I attempted a small smile, knowing he was still hurting. I tried to ignore the way Dean's arms tightened around my waist at the joke.
"You're not alone, okay? If anything weird or unnatural comes up, call," We began walking away, leaving him stammering behind us.
"Wh-What am I supposed to do now?" We paused, turning back to look at him.
"You be good, Andy… or we'll be back," Dean finished the sentence as a threat, and I didn't have the energy or the willpower to try to fix it. Maybe it was good Andy was scared. He had just killed his own brother.
"Looks like I was right," Sam spoke, and I glanced to my right at him.
"About what?" Dean questioned from where he was standing to my left with an arm still wrapped around my waist.
"Andy. He's a killer after all," I frowned at Sam's deduction of the event, but I couldn't deny that I had thought about it.
"No he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life," Dean argued.
"Bottom line, last night he wasted somebody," Sam emphasized.
"But he's not a psycho. Everyone could become a killer with the proper motivation - demon blood or not," I disagreed.
"Exactly, he was pushed into that," Dean added.
"Webber was pushed, too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death. You were pushed by your dad's," Sam pointed out, gesturing to me as he spoke the last sentence.
"What's your point, Sam?" Dean snapped, stopping us and facing him.
"Mel's right. Under the right circumstances, everyone is capable of murder - everyone. Maybe that's what the demon is doing - pushing us, finding ways to break us,"
"Look, we don't know what the demon wants, so there's no point in worrying about it now," I worked hard to stifle my true feelings as I spoke those words. What if we were all supposed to turn out like Max Miller and Webber? I would've killed him tonight. To save Dean's life - I would've killed him.
"She's right, Sam. Quit worrying," Dean walked towards the driver's seat.
"You know, I heard you before when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am," Sam used his last card.
"That was mind control. It's like being roofied, man. That doesn't count. No, I'm calling do-over," I let out an amused laugh.
"What are you, seven?" Sam questioned, and I just grinned, getting into the backseat.
"Doesn't matter. Look, we just got to keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,"
"So, you, uh, you want to tell me about this hunt of yours," Ellen prompted us, and I glanced down at my beer before looking back up at her.
"Nope. Not really," Dean answered, which earned him a hard look from Ellen. "No offense. Just kind of a family thing,"
"Not anymore," She tossed some papers onto the counter. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burned down on his six-month birthday, just like your house and yours," She looked at me and Sam in turn. "You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"
"Yeah, we think so," Sam finally opened up.
"Sam," Dean cautioned, but Sam ignored him.
"Why?" Ellen demanded.
"None of your business," Dean snarked, and I threw him a warning glance.
"Dean-" I began, only to be cut off by Ellen.
"You mind your tongue with me, boy," Harshness lined her voice. "This isn't just your war. This is war. Something big and bad is coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. now, at best all we got is us - together. No secrets or half truths here,"
"There are people, like Andy Gallagher and Sam and me who have… abilities," I glanced down at my hands as I spoke.
"Abilities?" Ellen echoed uncomprehendingly.
"Yeah," I could feel Dean's muscles tense beside me as if he was ready for a fight. "Psychic abilities. Andy had mind control," I took a deep breath, glancing at Sam before continuing. "I can hear things… things that normal people can't hear,"
"What kind of things?" Ellen prompted.
"Things like Ash watching Saturday Night Live in his room. Things like Jo getting the beer out back. Max, sleeping in his room. Sam gets… premonitions, visions. It's different for each person,"
"The demon said he had plans for people like us," Sam added.
"What kind of plans?" Ellen asked, her eyes flicking between us uncertainly.
"We don't really know for sure," Sam told her honestly.
"These people out there, these psychics, are they dangerous?"
"No," Dean answered gruffly. "Not all of them,"
"But some can be. Very dangerous," I disagreed, needing to warn them.
"Okay, how many?" She interrogated us.
"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday," Dean informed her.
"That's not true," Sam muttered, glancing down at his hands.
"What?" Dean asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"He's right. Webber didn't. I had his files. I checked. No house fires anywhere on his record,"
"Which breaks pattern," Ellen summed up. "So if there's any others like him, there would be nothing in the system, no way to track them all down,"
"And so who knows how many of them are really out there?" Dean realized.
"Jo, honey?" Ellen called back to her daughter.
"Yeah?" The blonde replied.
"You better break out the whiskey instead," I felt Dean's hand slip into mine, and I tightened my hand around it. We were so screwed.