**Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but it's a long one! Quick note: I decided that anything Mel 'hears' will be italicized from now on. I hope it's not confusing with the flashbacks (even though there isn't flashbacks in this episode). I'll probably have more flashbacks later on in the season, so if you have any ideas, review! Hope you all like this episode! PM and/or review please!**
Born Under a Bad Sign
"We don't even know where the hell he is!" Dean snapped at me, his knuckles white as he clutched the wheel of the Impala. I glanced up from the map I'd been using to fix my eyes on Dean's face. His jaw was tight and his muscles were tense as he kept his eyes focused on the road without really seeing it.
"We'll find him,"I tried to reassure him, but my voice sounded weak even to me. The past week and a half had been hell for both of us. I'd barely remembered to brush my hair this morning before we'd left the motel. Not that it mattered, I hadn't slept at all last night and I had the bags under my eyes to prove it. I'd managed to successfully cover it with make-up, so I looked almost normal. I had to hold it together. I had to hold it together because Dean was falling apart.
"You don't know that," He spit out gruffly. "You don't even know if he's okay," My eyes dropped to the speedometer that now pointed to 90 mph. That number was steadily rising.
"Dean, he'll be fine," Dean wasn't calming down, and another glance at the speedometer told me we were now going 105. "Dean, pull over," His breathing had grown shaky and his knuckles whiter. "Dean!" I put a gentle hand on his arm, scared of startling him. "Pull over," I was thrown forward, and probably would've gone through the windshield if it weren't for the seatbelt that restrained me. The next second we were under a bridge off to the side of the road in park. Dean nearly tore off the door as he got out, slamming it shut behind him. I hurried out as well, watching him with a frown as he ran his hands through his short hair. "Dean, calm down,"
"I can't, Mel!" He backed away from me as I took a step towards him. "He's gone! I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to take care of him. I was-I…"
"Hey!" I stopped his breathless rant, terrified of his obvious display of fear and concern. For Dean to be open about hurting meant that he had to be dying inside. "We are going to find him," I told him as I stepped closer, real conviction in my voice now. "He will be fine," I took a few more small steps, so I was right in front of him. Slowly, I reached up to trail my fingers lightly along his hairline and down his cheek. He looked drawn, scared and exhausted, a look which I imagined I mirrored. "We'll find him," I repeated, trying to make him believe the words as my other hand rested on his shoulder, my thumb brushing his jawline. "Finding Sammy is what we do best, remember?" I offered a small smile at the last question, and Dean managed one as well, moving his head to the right to kiss my hand..
"Yeah," He agreed, seeming to snap out of it. "Yeah, right. Okay,"
"Okay," I leaned up to kiss his lips briefly before snapping out my phone. "I'm going to give Ellen another try," He nodded, taking out his phone as well, probably to call another hunter we'd tried.
Hello? Ellen picked up on the second ring.
"Ellen, hey, it's Mel. Anything new?" I questioned, praying to whatever crap god I believed in now that she'd say yes.
No, sorry, honey. She replied, a toughened sympathy in her voice.
"God, it's like looking for John again," I lowered my voice, so Dean wouldn't hear the John part. "We're going crazy trying to find him,"
How's Dean? Ellen asked, and I didn't respond for a moment, glancing back at my boyfriend. Dean was speaking into the phone quickly, his eyes glancing right and left as if Sam would just appear out of the air. That bad? Ellen took my silence as a bad sign.
"He's loosing his mind, Ellen," I dropped my voice again. "And I don't know how to help him short of finding Sam,"
And you? She questioned. I remained silent for a moment, biting my lip in thought before speaking.
"I'm okay," My voice sold the words, but I could hear Ellen's incredulous snort.
Bullshit. She stated promptly, not bothering to sugarcoat it.
"I will be okay. Once we find Sam," I amended honestly. "Dean and I have called him at least a thousand times between us. It just goes straight to voicemail. He's just gone. I'm loosing my mind," I was loosing my mind. There was a gnawing pit of worry in my stomach that just seemed to grow bigger each day Sam was gone. Then there was the struggle to keep away the fearful thoughts that threatened to consume me. My mind suddenly flashed back to when I had left without saying anything. Was this how they'd felt?
"Sammy, where the hell are you? Are you okay?" I whipped around to see Dean was talking into the phone rapidly. His eyes met mine and I knew without a doubt that it was Sam who'd called.
"Ellen, I have to call you back," I didn't wait for her reply before snapping the phone shut.
Dean, I-is Mel with you? I don't know… I didn't. What…? Sam sounded as though he were hyperventilating and crying at once, and my heart ached to reach out and comfort him.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey. Calm down. Where are you?" Dean asked him, his voice gruff as fear battled with relief.
Twin Lakes. The Redwood Inn. Room 109. Sam's spoke in a rapid string of words that was barely decipherable.
"All right. Don't move. We're on our way," I was in the car before Dean had finished speaking, and he slid in next to me quickly before snapping the phone shut. Thankfully, we didn't get pulled over, making the drive out only an hour long. It was one of the most tense, horrible hours of my life. After what seemed like eternity, Dean pulled into a parking space in front of the motel. I ripped open the door, jumping out before Dean had fully parked yet. I sprinted through the hallway, pausing briefly to glance at the room numbers that were marked clearly on the door. I stopped when I got to room 109.
"It's here," I called back to Dean before knocking loudly on the door. "Sam? It's us," There was no reply. Dean reached me, banging on the door as well, but I was already pushing it open. It was unlocked. For a terrifying moment, my mind flew past reason to assume the worst. There was only one reason a hunter's motel room would be unlocked. Then I saw him. Sam was sitting on the bed, gazing down at his hands. "Hey," For some reason, I paused after speaking, letting Dean push past me into the room.
"Hey, Mel. Dean," It wasn't until my gaze dropped to his abdomen that my muscles unfroze. My worry for Sam overtook the nagging, little voice in the back of my mind.
"Are you bleeding?" Dean got to Sam first, and I knelt beside him quickly, gently lifting his bloody hands to survey the damage.
"I tried to wash it off," He answered dully, and my eyes lifted to his abdomen again. There was a huge, dark red stain spread across his white shirt.
"Dean," The tense word brought his attention from Sam's hands to his shirt as I pressed it to feel the wound underneath.
"I don't think it's my blood," He mumbled, not making any attempt to stop Dean and my hands from searching for an injury.
"Well then whose?" I asked the question more sharply than I'd intended but couldn't bring myself to feel bad.
"I don't know," He replied, looking down as if only just now realizing he had a bloodstain across his shirt.
"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked the question I'd been about to voice.
"Dean…Mel…" Sam's eyes turned to meet mine, and I could see the horror and confusion in his gaze. "I don't remember anything," My heart dropped at his words. Dean and I just stared at Sam in the full two minutes of absolute silence followed his words. "Say something," Sam begged us in that same soft, dejected voice.
"You stay here with Sam," Dean instructed me, and, for once, I didn't argue. "I'm going to see if I can find any information about what your doing here," Dean stood without another word and walked out the door, leaving me alone with Sam, who I was strangely getting a bad feeling from.
"Mel… what if I-" Sam began, his voice breaking.
"Don't," I interrupted him, holding up a hand and ignoring the feeling. "We don't know what happened. What's the last thing you remember?" I questioned, hoping it may give us some answers as to what was going on.
"That motel in West Texas. Me, you, and Dean went out to grab some burgers and the next thing I know, I'm here," Sam relayed everything he could recall.
"That was a week and a half ago," I informed him, standing from the floor to sit next to him on the bed.
"What've you two been doing?" I turned my head, so he could get the full effect of my raised eyebrows and pursed lips. "Right, stupid question," He admitted.
"Yeah," I gave what I thought would be a soft, relieved laugh, but it came out tense and worried. I frowned at the feeling in my gut telling me something was wrong about this situation. My head whipped around as Sam groaned, and my eyes dropped to see him trying to move his bruised hands. "We should probably get you some ice for that," I told him, standing again. "Come on," His eyebrows rose in surprise at what I was telling him to do.
"You want me to come with you to the ice machine?" He asked incredulously, and I smiled a bit in dry amusement at his surprise.
"If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're crazy," I informed him brusquely. "Now, move," I gestured to the door, and he walked past me with a defeated sigh. It wasn't until we'd gone to the ice machine, scooped the ice, and came back that either of us spoke again.
"What do you think happened?" Sam finally asked, sounding half scared half curious as to the answer.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I'm trying not to think about it until we have more facts," It wasn't technically a lie. I was trying not to think about it. Unfortunately, I was failing miserably, and thoughts of what could've happened were racing through my mind without pause. Sam sat back down on the bed as I cut the ice bag with my switchblade and dumped half of the contents into a bowl before filling it with cold water and placing it in front of Sammy. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he put his hands in the freezing water.
"Jesus, that's cold," He muttered, tensing for a moment.
"You should've thought of that before you punched some poor guy," Sam's eyes flicked to mine in surprise at the assumption. "There's only one thing that could've done this," I gestured to his bloody knuckles as I explained, even though I knew he knew why I thought that. Before either of us could say anymore, the door unlocked and opened. Dean walked in, shutting the door behind him, a bag of food in his hands.
"What did you find out?" Sam questioned eagerly as Dean set the food and coke on the table.
"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," He conveyed the information he'd uncovered about the time Sam had been missing. "I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan," I pressed two fingers to my lips in an attempt to stifle the laughter.
"Dean," I admonished, hitting his jacket lightly.
"The room's been quiet. Nobody's noticed anything unusual," Dean got back on track with the investigation.
"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?" Sam corrected him drily.
"Yeah, that's what I mean," Dean nodded nonchalantly as if this whole thing were no big deal to him.
"Then how the hell did I get here?" Sam threw his arms out to the side as Dean shrugged off his jacket. "What happened to me?" That was more like the Sam I knew. Always with the angry questions.
"Look, we don't know what happened but you're okay," I tried to calm the coming fight.
"She's right," Dean backed me up. "You are okay. That's what matters. Everything else we can deal with,"
"Oh, really?" Sam retorted, and I could feel a fight coming on. "'Cause what if I hurt someone or worse?"
"Sam, come on," I rolled my eyes, trying to show I was unaffected by his worry. I had to believe he didn't do anything horrible to anyone. I had to. If I didn't, the worry would consume me, and I wouldn't be any help.
"No, Mel. I know you've thought about this too. What if this is what Dad warned Dean about?" He had been speaking directly to me until he spoke Dean's name, turning to fix his brother with a dark look.
"Whoa, whoa. Come on, man. Let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened," Dean reasoned calmly, his words actually making me feel slightly more relaxed. "We got to treat this like any other job," Sam sighed in defeat, glancing away from Dean and I.
"Tell Dean what you told me," Sam's eyes turned to me with an unreadable expression that looked foreign on Sam's face, like it shouldn't have been there. "About your memory," I clarified with a frown, wondering why I felt so uneasy about him.
"We were in the motel in West Texas. We went to get burgers. That's the last thing I remember," Sam sunk into the nearest chair as he talked, and Dean looked as if Sam had smacked him across the face.
"West Texas - that was over a week ago," Dean told him, and Sam glanced at me.
"Yeah, I know," He muttered softly as if he still couldn't believe it. "But that's it. The next thing I knew, I was sitting here…bloody. I felt like I had been asleep for a month,"
"Okay, look, all we have to do is retrace your steps, right? Find out where you've been and what you've been doing," I figured, knowing both of them would agree.
"Manager said you left yesterday afternoon and never saw you come back, so…" Dean let the sentence hang as he walked towards the window, moving the curtain to reveal the bloody fingerprint on the handle. "Hey," He called to Sam while I came to stand next to him to get a better look. Sam wasn't that sloppy. It was an odd thought to have when you see your brother's bloody fingerprints on a window, but nonetheless it was true. Sammy wasn't that sloppy. I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts and followed Dean out the door. We walked a few paces out of the motel and looked around at the parking lot.
"Anything seem familiar?" I asked him, using all my willpower to focus on the present.
"Not really," Sam answered, making my heart drop slightly. I glanced at Dean to see he was already looking at me with a troubled expression. Dean turned away from us, and Sam and I trailed after him as he walked around the building. "Wait," Sam stopped us, his eyes locked on some storage units to our right.
"See something you recognize?" I questioned as Sam began walking towards the units.
"Yeah, I think I was here, but I don't really remember," I frowned at his vague explanation while Dean started towards the first unit. "It just… feels familiar, you know? Try that one," He pointed towards the second unit, and I jiggled it only to find it locked. "Wait," He felt around in his pockets and pulled out a key, handing it to me. I didn't miss the way his eyes flicked worriedly to my face before dropping to the floor. He was scared. Or he wanted me to think he was. I shook my head again. Why would I think that? Of course he was scared. I inserted the key and opened the lock. My eyes met Dean's briefly, both of us terrified of what we would find in the unit. I threw up the door to find an old, dusty car.
"Please tell me you didn't steal this," Dean commented in disgust, staring at the antique that sat before us. I gave a half laugh, but smothered it when Sam sent me a dark look.
"Okay," I held up my hands in surrender, walking over to the car and jerking open the door. My small smile dissipated when I saw the four strips of dark red liquid that stained the steering wheel. One touch confirmed what it was. "Blood," I whispered, though I knew both guys would here me.
"Guys, backseat," The somber urgency in Dean's voice caused my eyes to snap to the backseat of the car. Sam pulled open the backdoor and lifted the bloody knife with a shaky hand.
"You think I used this on someone?" He asked, his eyes first landing on me, begging me for an answer, before moving to Dean, who's face had gone expressionless.
"I'm not thinking anything," He answered as Sam's breathing grew shaky. I snatched the knife from his frozen fingers and wiped off both our prints before returning it to the seat. "Okay now this is disturbing," I swallowed hard, almost not wanting to look at what Dean held, but forcing myself to anyway. Cigarettes. "Come on, man, this couldn't have been you,"
"He's right. You don't smoke," I pointed out, hoping with everything I had that I was right. Unfortunately, the persistent tug in my gut told me another story.
"Hey, a gas receipt, a few towns over," Sam held up what he'd discovered in a cup holder, and my eyes found Dean's again, my worry reflected in his gaze. "Come on," I tore my eyes from Dean's and slammed the driver's door shut, speeding up to a light jog to catch up with Sam, who was almost to the Impala. We drove out to the gas station in complete silence with me riding in the back and Sam riding shotgun.
"All right," Dean began as we pulled into the gas station parking lot. "Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two," Dean gestured over his shoulder as Sam stared out the window at the tiny gas station store.
"Recognize anything?" I prompted, but Sam shook his head silently. "Come on, let's go in," I opened the door, getting out before shutting it behind me. "Maybe he'll remember you," I suggested, jerking my chin at the store clerk, who was visible through the window. Dean slipped an arm around my waist as we walked towards the door, and I leaned slightly closer to him, wanting to feel at least some comfort. As soon as we walked in, the cashiers eyes went wide, locking on Sam.
"You - out of here. Now. I'm calling the cops," The man picked up the phone threateningly.
"You talking to him?" Dean asked, pointing to his brother in surprise.
"Yeah, I'm talking to him," The man replied, his voice tense with fear and anger. "Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging it,"
"Him?" I repeated Dean's words as we both stared at the cashier in total shock.
"You're drinking malt liquor?" Dean asked him, only half joking.
"Well, not after he whipped the bottle at my friggin' head," The man went on, getting more furious the more he told us.
"This guy?" Dean reiterated as I echoed, "Him?" The clerk glanced between us, frowning in annoyance now.
"What-what am I speaking, Urdu?" He snapped, taking me by surprise.
"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything-" Sam tried to apologize to him.
"You know what, tell your story walking, pal, okay? Popo will be here in five," He lifted the phone to his ear as his fingers began dialing 9-1-1.
"Hey, just wait a minute, alright?" I held up my hands to show we meant no harm, which made the man pause. "He's going, okay?" I turned to Sam, who was staring at me incredulously. "Go wait in the car. We'll be out in a minute,"
"Mel-" Sam began protesting.
"Go wait in the car," Dean repeated, making him sigh heavily and stalk out of the store. "Okay, look, we just want to talk to you, that's it, okay?" The man debated for a moment, glancing at me and then Dean and then me again before hanging up the phone. "When he took off yesterday which way did he go?"
"Why don't you ask him?" He retorted, glancing out the window at Sam, who was now leaning on the Impala.
"Because we're asking you," I replied smoothly, folding my arms across my chest. "Please, you'd be doing us a favor. He doesn't really remember much from last night,"
"Wow, what a shocker," He quipped sarcastically, making me raise my eyebrows. "Look, your friend there - he didn't pay for the booze or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up," My eyes widened as the man confirmed what I'd already suspected.
"You saw him smoking?" Dean questioned in shock.
"Yeah, guy's a chimney," He informed us, his anger not dying down in the least. I glanced at Dean, and the worry in his eyes did nothing to calm me. My eyes flicked out the window to Sam before they returned to the cashier, who Dean was now paying.
"This aught to cover it," He set down the two tens on the table.
"It's, uh, it's coming back to me now," The cashier nodded, gesturing to his head. "He took two packs,"
"Sure he did," I muttered, rolling my eyes and glancing away from the clerk for a moment.
"He went North on Route 71, straight out of town," Dean glanced down and picked up two snicker bars while I picked up a pack of gun, waving it at the guy before heading out the door and to the car.
-3rd Person-
Dean, Mel, and Sam drove for the last hour of daylight and another hour of darkness. Mel had fallen asleep an hour ago, and neither boy wanted to wake her. Dean knew the past week and a half had been as much hell for her as it had been for him. She'd tried to hide it from him, but he could see the effect Sam's disappearance had on her. She hadn't slept more than a couple hours every three or four nights, and she'd barely eaten though she said she was fine. Dean glanced in the rearview at her peacefully sleeping face and felt his heart ache. He wished he could take her and go buy a house somewhere. Have some kids. Sam could go back to college. He frowned at himself. He never used to think that way, but lately… lately he'd been thinking it more and more often.
"What's going on with you, Sam?" Dean couldn't stand the silence any longer. All he did when it was silent was worry. Worry about Mel. Worry about Sam. Worry about the future. He just to get some of it out of his system. "The smoking, throwing bottles at people - that sounds more like me than you,"
"Dean, wait. Wait. Here," Sam pointed suddenly their right. "Turn down that road,"
"What?" Dean questioned in surprise.
"I don't know how I know. I just do," Dean's lips pulled into a frown for a moment before he jerked the wheel, sending them down the road Sam had pointed to. They needed to figure out what was going on. That was what was important. Mel had jerked away at Sam's urgent hiss and was now blinking the sleep from her eyes as Dean put the Impala in park. Dean took in the big house as he got out of the car and walked beside Mel up the stairs. A big, bright light lit up, illuminating their faces for the security camera that was mounted alongside it on the pole.
"Well, someone's not too fond of surprises," Mel commented, trying to keep the situation light.
"No, they're not," Dean agreed as they continued to the door. "Should we knock?" Dean questioned, not really sure if the owner already knew someone was there.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam answered, but he began walking to his left, ignoring the door. Dean knocked loudly on the door, receiving no answer.
"Hey, guys," Sam called to them, and Mel walked towards him, shining her flashlight where he was looking to reveal the shattered remains of a window.
"Why aren't the cops here?" She questioned logically. "With all this security, there should be an alarm system…" She moved further to their left as she spoke. Her words died on her lips as she found the alarm's electrical box bashed in and the wires cut. "Nevermind. Someone cut power to the alarm," Dean's eyes met Mel's for a moment before he went through the window. Sam followed and Mel came in last.
The demon in Sam smiled internally as it saw Dean reach for Mel when she came through the window. It doubted she even knew how Dean strategically placed her behind him but in front of Sam. It was the safest place for her to be. How adorable. It was sickening. The thing suppressed an outward eye roll at their obvious love for each other as the three of them walked through the house. It was time to find the body.
Dean's flashlight caught the dark, unmoving lump on the floor first, and he froze, half of him knowing what it was and the other half in a desperate state of denial. Reaching out, he nudged the lump with his foot; it didn't move.
"Hit the lights," He ordered, and Sam complied, shrouding the body in light. Mel stepped forward, kneeling beside the body and pulling it towards her cautiously, noting the pool of blood under the head. She knew what happened before the body rolled over to expose the sliced artery in his neck. Dean pressed a fist to his lips and mouth, try to stifle his disgust at the gruesome scene.
"I did this," Sam whispered, his voice sounding hoarse and raw with pain.
"We don't know that," He protested as Mel stayed quiet.
"What else do you need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood?" He listed the damning evidence that was piling up against him.
"I don't know, man. Why don't you tell us, huh?" Dean snapped back, furious at his brother for condemning himself.
"You don't know what happened, Sam," Mel spoke in a surprisingly calm voice. "Maybe you had a good reason. Self-defense, he was doing something evil, something like that," Dean nodded quickly to Mel as she seemed to be the only one making any sense. He felt the body for some form of identification, but found nothing.
"He doesn't have any I.D.," Dean announced, standing.
"Mel, I need your lock pick," Mel glanced up in surprise at Sam as he went to the closet.
"Why?" She questioned, taking out her lock pick and handing it to him. He didn't bother answering her as he picked the lock and opened the closet to reveal an arsenal.
"Holy…" Dean trailed off in awe as they took in the array of weapons the man had stashed away. Except it wasn't just weapons. If it had been just weapons they would have been okay. There were also printed pictures of creatures, different codes hung up, maps, tracking patterns all pinned to the wall. "Either this guy's a unabomber…"
"Or a hunter," Sam finished Dean's thought, his voice growing scared. "Guys, I think I killed a hunter," Mel's eyes scanned the room, desperately searching for some shred of evidence to tell Sam he was wrong. Her eyes landed on the video camera mounted in the corner of the room.
"Well, there's one way to find out," The boys followed her eyes to the camera.
It only took five minutes for Sam and Mel to set up the video feed using the computer that sat in the living room. Mel was calm. An odd calm. Sam couldn't have done this. She couldn't explain it, but something inside of her wouldn't allow her to believe Sam had done this. It was as if the feelings she got were magnified by ten. She was sure. Sam could not have done this.
"Here we go," With an almost reluctant feeling, she turned her attention to the video feed where Sam ran into the room, tackling the man and throwing him onto the ground. The man kicked Sam, making him fly backward before he scrambled up and attacked again, kicking and punching the shorter man till he was on the ground. Sam grabbed the knife off a nearby table, dragging the man backwards into the view of the camera. It was almost as if he wanted the camera to catch him in the act. He slowly, meticulously slit the man's throat before throwing the body away and wiping the blood off on his shirt. It was without a doubt Sam. No one spoke for a long moment.
"We need to wipe our prints," Mel spoke in a soft voice, but she didn't move from her seat. She'd pulled up a chair beside Sam and now sat in it, her eyes glued to the screen. She stared at Sam's face onscreen as Dean nodded and began wiping down anything they had touched. It was him. But it couldn't be him. He didn't kill the hunter. It couldn't be him. Except it was. She frowned as her eyes told her one thing but her brain argued another. How had her feeling been so wrong? It was never wrong.
"How do you erase this?" Mel didn't even hear Dean's question. It was Sam. Sam had killed the hunter, and he didn't even remember it. Is that what was in store for her? Is that what she would become? "Sam? Mel? Come on,"
"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him," His voice was quiet and numb, as if he'd already condemned himself as a monster, but his voice was only a shadow of an echo to Mel. She was staring at the screen still. What if someday that would be her on the screen? What if she did that to a hunter? What if she did it to Dean.
"Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter, which means other hunters are gonna look for his killer, which means we got to cover our tracks, okay?" Dean tried to appeal to his brother and girlfriend, who had yet to speak since the video started.
"His name was Steve Wandell," Sam informed Dean, raising the paper in his hand slightly. "This is a letter from his daughter," He threw the paper on the table in disgust at himself.
"Look, I'm sure he was a great guy, but right now we have to focus on covering our tracks. How do you erase this tape?" Neither of the two answered. Mel was still staring at Sam's face on the tape, but she'd stopped seeing it a while ago. She could see another face now. Her face. She saw the scene almost as clearly as if it were playing out in front of her. Her dragging Dean backwards, kicking him, punching, and finally, slitting his throat.
"Mel, look at me," She didn't move, making Dean cradle her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "We're going to figure this out, but right now, we need to erase the tape," She blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever daze she'd been in.
"Y-yeah," She stood, taking control of the situation as she moved around Sammy and began typing furiously on the keyboard. In a couple moments the film was deleted, and Dean threw a cloth in front of Sam.
"Wipe your prints. Then we go," Dean stated, leaving no room for argument.
-1st Person-
"All right," Dean began as he shut the motel room door behind us. "We get a couple hours' sleep, and then we put this place in our rearview mirror," Neither Sam nor I answered him. My brain was still clawing around desperately for a plausible answer to all of this. My feelings were never wrong so why now? "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You got to snap out of it," I wasn't sure if he was talking to Sam or me, but neither of us replied. "Someone say something," He demanded finally.
"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?" Sam repeated his words tensely, and Dean glanced at me before returning his eyes to Sam. "Murder, guys - that's what I did,"
"Maybe," I corrected him, still not believing he would do that. Loosing your memory? Killing someone? That doesn't just happen. Not without supernatural help.
"Yeah, okay. We don't know - shapeshifter," Dean tried, but Sam shook his head.
"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't. You saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion," He glanced at me as I sunk down into the chair, whatever fight I had left deserting me.
"But it wasn't you, all right? Yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you," Dean tried to reason as Sam walked over to the bed. A bad feeling twisted my stomach. A very bad feeling.
"Well, I think it was," Sam told us, and I met Dean's eyes with a frown as Sam sat on the bed. "I think maybe more than you know,"
"What are you talking about?" I questioned cautiously, not entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.
"For the last few weeks, I've been having…I've been having these feelings," He looked over at me, swallowing hard, and I frowned again in concern for him.
"What feelings?" Dean asked, walking closer.
"Rage…hate, and I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse," Dean sat on the bed across from him as I stood.
"Why didn't you tell us?" I inquired, trying to fight the annoyance. I could've helped or at least tried to. Something nagged at my brain, but I pushed it aside.
"I didn't want to scare you," Sam told me with big eyes that made me want to forgive him, but something was stopping me. "Either of you," He added, his gaze turning to Dean, who nodded with pursed lips.
"Well, bang-up job on that," He stood, walking away from Sam.
"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon - you know he has plans for Mel and me, and we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too,"
"Yeah, but those children knew what they were doing. There was no memory loss. They were in complete control of their fate," I reasoned, frowning as I discovered the hole in his logic. Sam was never one to jump to a conclusion. "No one can control you except yourself,"
"Yeah? Well, it sure doesn't seem like that, Mel," He told me harshly, taking me aback. "It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm just becoming-"
"What?" Dean cut him off with the question.
"Who I'm meant to be," Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes at Sam's answer while I took a step back, closer to my bag that was lying on the table. "You both have said it, guys. I got to face up to who I am, and so do you, Mel. What if this happens to you?" He turned his attention fully on me.
"We didn't mean this when we said face up to who you are," I snapped at him, suddenly angry at his expecting the worst.
"But it's still true. You know that," Sam stood, facing his brother again. "Dad knew that, too. That's why he told you if it ever came to this-"
"Shut up, Sam," I took the small, cold piece of metal and shoved it in my jacket pocket before walking towards the boys.
"Dean, you promised him. You promised me," Sam started, trying to convince his brother that it was right. I couldn't even believe what I was hearing.
"Sammy, stop," I stepped in front of Dean, putting a hand on Sam's chest and forcing him to back up a step. "We can figure this out. We just need some time. There has to be an answer,"
"Yeah, there is," Sam spoke in a dark tone that made my stomach drop. He picked up Dean's gun from his bag and pushed it at Dean, who just looked at it in horror. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt either of you," He looked down at me and then at Dean.
"You won't," Dean promised him, not taking the gun.
"Sam, whatever this is, we can fight it," I tried. "This isn't the answer,"
"No, we can't… I can't. Not forever. He has to do it," Sam spoke with steely determination in his voice as he gazed at me with an unwavering sadness. "Here," He shoved the gun at Dean again. "You got to do it," Neither of us moved, and Sam frustratedly grabbed Dean's hand, forcing it to close around the gun. My fingers slipped into my jacket pocket, wrapping around the cold metal, praying that I was right about this.
"You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe," Dean started, and my eyes widened as I took a step backwards, spinning to face Dean, who didn't meet my eyes.
"I know," Sam assured him softly. Dean's eyes flicked up from the gun to catch mine, and I could see the struggle in them.
"I can't," He replied gently to Sam, shaking his head. "I'd rather die," He walked around him as I let out a relieved breath and crossed the room to my bag, unscrewing the flask in my pocket as I went.
"No," Sam stated, his voice gaining a new tone that made goosebumps erupt on my arms and legs. "You'll live," He picked up the gun before turning to face Dean. "You'll live to regret this," He swung the gun across Dean's face, knocking him out cold.
"Dean!" I couldn't help the cry that sprung from my lips as Dean lay unmoving on the floor. Sam's head whipped around to face me a moment before he lunged. I sprayed him in the face with holy water, causing him to fall to the floor, writhing in pain, his eyes black as ebony.
"Exorcizamus the, omnis immundus spiritus," I began as Sam jumped up, snarling at me like a rabid dog. "Omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adverserii," I continued as I backed away from him. He leapt at me again, but I dodged under his swinging arm to deliver a side jab to his ribcage, making him fall to the floor. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica-" I broke off with a cry of surprise as the demon swung it's leg out, sweeping mine out from under me.
I fell on the ground hard, scrambling to get up, but Sam flipped me over, straddling me and trying to pin down my arms by grabbing my wrists. I thrashed wildly, managing to throw him off and jump to my feet. Sam grabbed my arm, spinning me to face him and pushing me to wards the table. I felt the edge of the table with my hands and jumped backwards so I was sitting on it. As Sam approached, I kicked my leg up, catching his jaw and sending him flying backwards.
"Adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas," I tried to resume the exorcism, but it didn't seem to be having any effect on the demon. I spun, digging through my bag to find the second vile of holy water I kept. I had just wrapped my fingers around it when I felt hands grab me and send me flying backwards onto the bed. Sam lunged at me, but I slammed both feet into his sternum, sending him sprawling onto the second bed. I unscrewed the holy water, but before I could use it, Sam was on top of me again, pinning my legs down with his knee. The last thing I saw was his fist flying towards my face.
I blinked awake groggily, groaning at the pain in my cheek and head. Everything returned to me in a flood. I tried to sit up only to realize I was restrained. My wrists were bound tightly behind my back with some sort of rope, and my ankles were tied with the same. I tried to speak only to realize there was a scarf or tie around my mouth preventing me from doing so. The next thing I noticed was the way the carpeted ground I was on creaked as if there was something under it. I shifted around to get a good look at the small compartment I was in. It only took me a moment to understand where I was. The trunk of the Impala. I knew there were weapons underneath me, but I also knew I couldn't get to them without untying my arms and feet, which I would need the weapons to do. I was thrown into the far wall as the Impala screeched to a halt.
With a muffled grunt of effort, I managed to turn myself so my legs were by the opening of the trunk. I scrunched my legs, waiting for the possessed Sam to open it. I heard the key turn and mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do. He opened it. I kicked out harshly with both legs, catching him in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards in surprise. I hooked my legs around the Impala's edge, using it to pull myself out of the trunk before Sam could get up. I leaned against the trunk to pull the fake bottom up with my bound hands and grab the sharp edge of a knife, wincing as it dug into the flesh of my palm. I worked quickly on the rope, just managing to snap it before Sam stood up, dusting himself off and laughing as I brandished the knife in my newly freed hands.
"I can see why he likes you," The creature chuckled, and I didn't dare take the time to slice the bonds around my ankles. "You are a fighter,"
"Why are you doing this?" I ignored the thing's taunts and cut to the chase. "What do you want with Sam?"
"You don't remember me? I'm hurt," Sam's face pulled into a pout while I frowned.
"Meg," I realized, my frown deepening as my jaw tightened in anger. "We sent you back to hell,"
"Yes," It nodded, glaring at me. "Do you remember what I said to you before I was thrown back down there?" I couldn't remember. So much had happened that day. "Let me refresh your memory. I said, 'I'm going to kill you. I'm going to rip the bones from your body'," It quoted itself, and I began to remember the conversation. "And you said, 'you'll have to crawl out of hell first,'. Well, baby. Here I am," He lunged at me, disarming me with ease due to my tied feet. He didn't knock me out this time, but instead retied my hands and feet, ignoring my struggles before stuffing me back into the trunk.
It was a short car ride until we stopped again, but this time, Sam didn't open the trunk, instead leaving me in silence as I heard the door close. I closed my eyes and focused my hearing on his footsteps going into the pub.
"Night. Thank you," My eyes shot open in shock. That was Jo's voice. Jo was in there. There was a gentle cough behind her. "Sorry, we're closing up," The creak of the door closing met her words.
"How about just one for the road?" There was a gasp of surprise as Sam spoke.
"Well, you're about the last person I'd expect to see," Jo told him coldly. I wasn't surprised. Jo and Sam had never been that close to begin with, but after she'd found out what had happened to her dad, well, they weren't on the best of terms.
"Well… I guess I'm full of surprises. So, can I get a beer?" He questioned as his footsteps drew closer to where I assumed Jo was.
"Sure. One beer," Jo relented, and her footsteps walked away as there was the dragging of a chair being pulled out. Jo's footsteps came back followed by a soft thud of the beer being set down. "So, how'd you find me?" Her question was accompanied by the clink of glasses. She must be cleaning up or something. I struggled against my restraints, trying to find some way to warn her. My phone. I mentally cursed myself for not checking for it sooner. I found it in my pocket and flipped it open. Dead. Just great.
"Well, uh, it's kind of what we do, you know?" Sam replied.
"Speaking of 'we', where's Mel and Dean?" She asked, and I could hear Sam's annoyed huff.
"They couldn't make it," Sam made up an excuse. Come on, Jo. She was smart. She could figure this out. She had to know it wasn't Sam. "Where's Max? Mel said you were with him last time you talked,"
"He went out to get some food. We're almost out of pretzels," She answered in a slightly mistrusting tone. "So, what are you doing here, Sam? I mean, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms,"
"Right… um… that's why I'm here. I kind of wanted to see if we could square things, you know," There was a rustling and dull thud, which was probably Sam's jacket coming off or Jo taking off hers.
"That looks like it hurts," What does? I stopped struggling against my restraints and listened intently to her. "No. No, just… had a run-in with a hot stove," I shook my head and went back to my restraints. It was probably nothing.
"What about your jaw? How'd that happen?" I smiled in satisfaction that he had a bruise where I'd kicked him.
"Hunt," He responded, the anger in his voice giving me more satisfaction.
"So, you were saying something about squaring things?" She returned to what they'd been talking about.
"Yeah. Um… Look, I know how you feel about Mel and my dads, and I can't say I blame you. They were both obsessed, consumed with hunting, and neither cared who got caught in the crossfire. I guess that included your dad, but that was my father. That's not me,"
"And what about Mel? Or Dean?" She questioned, and I felt slightly guilty for not coming to see her sooner. I should've tried to make things right with her.
"Well, Dean's more like my father than I am, but Mel isn't like her dad. Mel…" For some reason he trailed off, letting out a dark chuckle. "Boy… you really care about her, don't you?" I stopped struggling and listened as Jo scoffed. "I'll take that as a yes," There were footsteps walking away from him. "It's too bad. 'Cause see Mel likes you fine. You're maybe even a friend to her, but not a sister. See, Mel already has a sister she doesn't need another one," Jo's footsteps froze for a moment, and there was the fizzing sound of her taking the lid off a beer can. "Let me guess, you've wanted a big sister all your life, right? Then Mel comes in, and she knows all this stuff about hunting, teaches you some things," Sam let out another dark laugh. "She kind of thinks of you as a sort of fan, you know? Someone who follows her around, wants to be like her. I mean, you're even dating her ex," That was not true. I slammed my legs into the interior of the Impala's trunk, trying to force it open though I knew it was useless. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Jo," Sam continued, making me and probably Jo angrier. "I-I'm telling you 'cause I care,"
"That's real kind of you, Sam," Jo snarked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"I mean it. I care about you a lot," His tone changed.
"Sam, what's going on?" She asked, her voice growing uneasy.
"I can be more to you, Jo," He told her, his voice growing deep.
"Maybe you should leave," Her voice still remained calm, but it held an undertone of worry and nervousness.
"Okay," He agreed, and I heard his footsteps begin to walk away only to head back to her.
"Sam, get off me! Let go!" She cried, struggling against him.
"Jo, Jo, Jo," He admonished her, and I would guess she'd tried to take a swing at him. There was the shattering of glass that made me tense.
"Sam, no, please! Please!" She begged him. There was a grunt of effort followed by a loud thud of someone's head hitting wood. Jo didn't speak again.
"It didn't have to be this way," He murmured, making me feel sick to my stomach. "Maybe it did," Damn it. I didn't bother listening to any more. Sam came for me a couple minutes later, and I tried to kick him but he was ready this time. He dodged the kick, and used my feet to yank me out of the trunk, throwing me over his shoulder effortlessly. Unfortunately, it was dark, meaning there was no one around us to hear my calls for help. Not that I would've screamed, for the gag was tied tightly around my mouth. Sam tied me tightly to the post opposite Jo, who was slumped forward, her bonds the only thing keeping her up.
"You make one move to run. One," Sam held up his forefinger for emphasis. "I kill her," He removed the gag from my mouth, and I spit in his face, making his features twist in fury. He slapped me across the face, making it jerk sideways. I just glared at him harshly, refusing to show him the pain that now ran through my cheek. "I wasn't wrong, was I? You don't think of Jo as a little sister. She's more of a… distant friend,"
"Go to hell," I told him, not answering his question.
"Already been there. Didn't care for it much. Now I'm here," He looked around, his eyes landing on the record player. "What about some music?" He clicked the button on the side of the device, and it began playing an old record.
"Before you slip into unconsciousness," Of course it had to be the creepiest song imaginable. I rolled my eyes at the irony of the first line and our current situation.
"What the hell's going on?" Jo groaned, lifting her head, and I felt a mild wave of relief that she was okay. "What are you doing?"
"Jo?" I questioned, causing her eyes to fix on me and widen as my eyes flicked to the nasty looking bruise on her forehead.
"Mel? What's going on?" She probably would've kept firing questions at me if it had not been for Sam appearing beside her.
"So, what exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?" Sam questioned her curiously while she glared at him in anger.
"He's not Sam," I answered her earlier question. "He's-" I broke off as he held a knife to Jo's throat, shaking his head at me.
"Uh-huh," He grinned as I didn't speak but glowered. "Don't be so sure I'm not Sam. Answer my question," He turned to Jo as he spoke the last order. Jo looked at me, and I shook my head without speaking. Jo didn't answer. "Come on," Sam urged her as he pulled up a chair next to her, sitting. "It's me and Mel. You can tell us anything, you know that. Answer the question," His order came with more force this time, and it was clear what would happen if she didn't.
"Jo, answer," I told her, and Sam laughed creepily.
"You should listen to her," Jo nodded at me, and I inclined my head slightly, my eyes warning her to be cautious what she told him. He'd use anything he could against her.
"Fine," She conceded.
"Fine," Sam responded quickly.
"Our dads were in California-" She began as Sam brushed her bangs out of the way with his knife. "Devil's gate reservoir. They were setting a trap for some kind of hell spawn. John and Jimmy were hiding, waiting, and my dad was bait," Sam laughed again at that statement.
"That's just like John and Jimmy. Right, Mel?" Sam threw the question over to me, laughing as if it were an old memory. "Oh, I bet they dangled Bill like meat on a hook," Jo scoffed, turning away. "Then what?" Sam inquired eagerly, standing from his stool.
"The thing showed up. Jimmy got too eager, jumped out too soon, got my dad and himself exposed out in the open. The thing turned around John had to make a choice. He pulled Jimmy out of the way, and the thing killed my dad," My eyes focused on the floor, not being able to meet Jo's tear-filled gaze.
"Hmm. Not quite," He taunted her, dangling the information he knew like meat on a hook.
"What?" She questioned sharply.
"What? Oh. See, it hurt him. It didn't kill him. You really don't know the truth, do you?" He asked her, glancing at me. "Do you?" I didn't reply, and he laughed lightly. "No, I guess not. I mean, you didn't even know about Jo and Ellen to begin with. I bet Ellen doesn't know either,"
"Know what?" Jo snapped at him as he circled her like a vulture.
"You see, Bill… was all clawed up. He was holding his insides in his hands. He was gargling, and… praying to see you and Ellen one more time. So our dads… killed him," My eyes widened slightly. No. That couldn't be right. "They put him out of his misery like a sick dog,"
"Don't listen to him, Jo. He's lying," I told her, trying to sound as certain as I could, but I could tell from her face that she was starting to believe him.
"I'm not. It's true," Sam gloated. "Our daddies shot your daddy in the head," Sam spoke in a singsongy voice that made me want to rip the demon out of him.
"Don't listen to him, Jo," I repeated my words, hoping she'd focus on me instead of the lies he was feeding her.
"How could you know that?" She asked him, and the pain was obvious in her voice.
"I hear things," Sam quipped almost happily as he stuck the knife in the wood above her head.
"Look, just let Jo go, okay? She has nothing to do with any of this," I tried to reason with the demon, but he shook his head at me.
"You're wrong," He replied, looking down at Jo. "She's Maxwell's girl," My eyes widened as I fit the pieces together. He was going after everyone who was there that day. Everyone who helped exorcise him.
"What?" Jo glanced from Sam to me, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Like daddy, like daughter. You're bait," Sam informed her unceremoniously. "Open up," He shoved a gag into her mouth, tying it around her head before jerking the knife from the wooden post and heading to me. Jo turned her terrified, wide eyes on me.
"It's okay, all right? Don't worry. Dean's coming to get us," Sam laughed gleefully at my words.
"Ah, yes. Dean is coming to get you," He laughed again, shaking his head. "How can you have so much faith in him?" Sam snorted, shaking his head. "Then again, I had to come all the way up here to get Jo as insurance so you didn't escape. You have more fight than I thought,"
"Yeah, well, that's why he likes me," I spat the demon's words from earlier back at him, but he only laughed.
"Oh, you thought…" It let out a laugh again. "I wasn't talking about Dean," I froze, frowning at him. "You really don't know, do you? Haven't figured it out yet. Wow," He muttered, shaking his head. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he retied my gag around my mouth. "Guess that epiphany will have to wait," No sooner had he finished tying the gag than the door was kicked down.
"Sam!" My tense muscles relaxed slightly at Dean's voice.
"I begged you to stop me, Dean," He cried out, as he held the knife to my throat. Dean's eyes met mine, and I could see the horror in them.
"Put the knife down, damn it," He begged Sam, but the demon had no intention of doing that.
"I told you! I can't fight it!" Sam yelled at him. "My head feels like it's on fire, all right?" He clutched his head as he spoke. I struggled against my bonds, shaking my head at Dean.
"Dean, kill me, or I'm gonna kill her. Dean, I'm going to kill Mel," He pressed the knife harshly against my skin, stopping my struggles. "Please. You'd be doing me a favor," I tried desperately to speak around the gag, but it was too tight. Instead, I resorted to shaking my head at him, trying to silently tell him not to shoot. "Shoot me!" He stepped away from me, holding out his arms to Dean, who uncocked the gun.
"No, Sammy. Come on," He turned away from the scene, and I knew in that moment that Dean knew it was a demon.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of loosing your brother that you'd let Mel and Jo die?!" Sam screamed at Dean's back. It was silent for a moment before Dean whipped around, throwing holy water on Sam, who screamed and reeled back.
"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch," Dean snapped at him as Sam spun back around, his eyes pitch black. In answer to his snarls, Dean threw more water on him. Sam turned and ran, jumping out through the window, not caring about the glass and wood that he crashed through. Dean snatched the knife off the table and sliced through my bonds before stepping around the pole to rip the gag off of me, throwing it to the side. "Are you alright?" I nodded quickly. "God, what did he do to you?" Dean ran his thumb over the bruise that had formed on my cheek from Sam's punch. I caught his hand in mine, ignoring the sting from the cut that I had gotten when I'd grabbed the blade.
"Go get Sam. I'll take care of Jo and follow," I told him breathlessly, but he hesitated for a moment. "Go. I'm fine," I promised him, catching his arm as he turned to go. "Be careful," I whispered softly.
"You too," Then he was gone, and I crossed to Jo, taking off her gag first.
"Why didn't you tell me he was possessed?" Was the first question she asked.
"Because he would've killed you if I had," I replied, going around the pole to untie her hands, which took more time than I would've liked.
"Was he telling the truth?" She asked, her voice loosing some of it's anger. "About my dad?"
"I don't know," I answered truthfully, distracted from the question by another thought. "Max isn't getting pretzels, is he?" She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.
"Something seemed off about Sam. I didn't want to tell him Max was on a hunt," I nodded, smiling slightly despite everything that was happening.
"Good instincts," I acknowledged, nodding to her as I headed for the window Sam had jumped through. "You should call him. Tell him what happened. The demon might be coming after him next," I told her without looking back.
"Wait," I turned to face her. "What was that thing Sam said about Max?"
"The demon that's in Sam… Max, Dean, Sam, Bobby, and I exorcised it almost a year ago. Sent it back to hell. Now it's seeking vengeance. You were it's way of getting back at Max," I explained quickly as I mentally listed my options. I didn't have any sort of weapon except for the knife. "Do you have any guns here?" She opened her mouth to reply when I heard the loud bang of a shot going off. My head snapped up as I heard a following splash. "Dean," I muttered his name, my body already moving before my mind told it what to do. I jumped through the window, sprinting as stealthily as I could through the boathouse till I reached the dock. Everything was silent. I inched forward, pressing my back against the wooden wall in case Sam was still there. He wasn't. There was no one in sight. I moved to the edge of the small wooden structure that overlooked the water. Then I caught sight of him.
"Dean!" I couldn't keep the shock and horror out of my voice as I sprinted down to the wooden ramp that led up to the dock. Dean was lying, wet and motionless, at the bottom of the ramp. "Dean," I murmured in a softer voice as I knelt next to him, my throat closing, afraid to touch him, afraid that he wouldn't respond. I grabbed his jacket and turned him over onto his back. Relief crashed over me as he let out a wet cough, and I helped him sit up, my hands shaking.
"S-Sam?" His teeth chattered as he got the word out. I let out laugh that was half a sob before kissing his lips harshly, then kissing his cheek and his neck as my arms pulled him closer to me, not caring how soaking wet he was. "I'm o-okay," He spoke gently, turning his head to press his lips into my hair.
"Yeah," I pulled back, and he hissed in pain, making me freeze. My eyes dropped to his shoulder, which was slowly turning dark red as blood seeped out of the hole in it. "Come on. We've got to get back to the bar," I helped him to the bar, sitting him in a chair Jo pulled out. "Jo, I need tweezers, and your first aid kit," I ordered her, and she ran off quickly. I gingerly removed the jacket from Dean's shoulders and shoved the sleeve of his brown shirt up. Jo came back, and set down the things I'd requested on the table. "Can you grab a bottle of Jack Daniels as well?" She disappeared for a moment, and I waited for her to hand the bottle to Dean before I began.
"Did you call Max?" I questioned her, trying anything to get my mind off Dean's grunts of pain.
"Yeah," She replied, her voice wavering with concern as I searched for the bullet. "He's coming back here,"
"Max?" Dean repeated his name in surprise before groaning as I brushed the raw flesh of his shoulder.
"The demon in Sam was Meg," I filled him in on what he'd missed, but he nodded as if he already knew what I was telling him. "Meg was going to use Jo to hurt Max. She - it is going after the people that exorcised it last time," I glanced at him to see he had already put a dent in the bottle and was attempting to blink away the pain. "I almost got it," I told him, my tweezers tightening on the bullet before pulling it out. Dean grunted in pain one last time as I set it in the shot glass full of water.
"Are you done?" Dean started to rise from the chair only to have me push him back down.
"Dean, I know you want to find him. I do, too. But it won't help anyone if you bleed to death on the way there," I made an effort to keep my voice at least slightly calm as I taped on the white bandage pad.
"How did you know he was possessed?" Jo questioned from behind me as Dean took another swig of Jack Daniels. I glanced at the bottle and then back at him warily before returning my attention to his arm.
"I found your empty flask in the motel room when I woke up," Dean explained, glancing at me. "I knew that it couldn't have been him. Wasn't hard to figure out from there,"
"Do you know where he's headed to next?" Jo asked, but I could tell her mind was still on the story Sam had told her.
"Yeah. He's going after everyone from that day. The only one he hasn't hit yet is in South Dakota," I told her, and Dean nodded in confirmation. "Okay, I'm done," I announced, standing and grabbing the knife from the table, slipping it into my waistband in case we would need it.
"Right, let's go," Jo agreed, and Dean and I froze, turning to face her.
"You're not coming," Dean informed her, chuckling humorlessly.
"The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now," She argued, frowning at the both of us. I felt horrible for what I was about to do, but she couldn't come with us. She'd just end up getting herself hurt or worse.
"Jo, listen. You can't come. You have to stay here and wait for Max. Make sure Sam doesn't come back," I used logic to get her to want to stay, but she just put her hands on her hips irritably.
"That's bullshit," She snapped, making me sigh in annoyance.
"I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow us, and I'll tie you right back to that post," Dean threatened her, knowing we were wasting time here.
"This is a family fight, Jo. If you come you'll just end up getting hurt," I told her as Dean grabbed his jacket from the chair and we began walking away.
"Wait," She called us back, tossing me a small, orange, pill bottle. "Take them. They'll help with the pain," Her eyes flicked to Dean before landing on me again.
"Thank you," I spoke from the heart, knowing we didn't deserve the kindness after what we'd just said to her. "I'll call you after it's over. Tell you what happened," I promised her as I turned back towards the door and walked out, Dean's arm around my waist.
"No, you won't," I barely heard Jo's mutter, but it made my heart sink guiltily. She was probably right. I would forget with everything that was about to happen. Dean went to open the driver's door of the car he'd picked up only to find he didn't have the keys any longer.
"I'm driving," I informed him, opening the door and sliding into the driver's seat. "Call Bobby," I sped down the road as Dean pressed the phone to his ear. I listened to the rings, praying Bobby would pick up. Suddenly, the line went dead. No answering machine, nothing.
"Damn it," Dean muttered, shutting the phone.
"At least we know he's there," I tried to remain optimistic. I felt high with relief. Sam was possessed, meaning it wasn't him. It wasn't his destiny that was making him do this. That meant I wouldn't turn into that, not for sure at least. Dean was alright. He had been shot, but he'd be fine in a month or so. We'd save Bobby. Everything would be okay.
"I was wondering when you two'd get here," Was Bobby's greeting as he opened the door after the second knock. I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his neck tightly. I'd grown more and more worried about him as the car ride progressed, but he was seemingly unharmed.
"Sam?" Dean questioned, and Bobby nodded, wordlessly leading us through his house and to the living room where we'd had Meg almost a year before. "Hey," Dean smacked him in the face, making him groan and shake his head. Sam looked at Dean before looking at me, and I flicked my eyes upward, bringing his attention to the drawing on the ceiling.
"Dean. Back from the dead," He commented snidely with a smug grin. "Well, at least it wasn't Mel, right? Then it would really be a habit, wouldn't it?"
"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" I whole-heartedly agreed with Dean's suggestion.
"Careful now. Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging," The demon told us, grinning.
"Don't you worry about that," I mock comforted it. "What we're going to do won't hurt Sam. You, however…" I trailed off as I grabbed a bucket of holy water and dumped it on him, causing him to scream.
"Feel like talking now?!" Dean demanded angrily.
"Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his own tongue," I refused to let the demon know how much that sentence alarmed me.
"No, you won't be in him long enough," Dean answered calmly, his eyes never leaving Sam's face. "Bobby," He prompted the man, who began speaking in latin. "See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up, you're not getting Sam or Mel, you understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first," Suddenly, the thing started laughing loudly.
"You really think that is what this is about - the master plan?" The demon panted as it spoke, laughing again. "I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan," I glanced at Bobby and nodded for him to continue, which he did. "Oops," The demon interrupted loudly. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks," He ducked his head and began speaking quick words in latin. The fire blazed brightly, causing me to jerk back, frowning. The room darkened, and the wind picked up. Dean's arm reached in front of my waist to push me slightly behind him, protecting me from whatever was coming.
"This isn't going like I pictured. What's going on, Bobby?" Dean demanded, and my eyes fell on Sam's forearm, widening as they did so.
"Bobby!" I stepped around Dean to pull back Sam's sleeve, revealing the mark that was seared into Sam's skin.
"Aw, crap. It's a binding link!" Bobby called to Dean. "It's like a lock. It's locked itself inside Sam's body,"
"What the hell do we do?" Dean asked, glancing around as the papers started flying everywhere.
"I don't know!" Bobby snapped, throwing his arms out to the sides and pulling me with him as he backed away from Sam. I searched despairingly for an answer to the problem, and my eyes locked on the fire.
"What about burning it off?" I asked, turning back to Bobby. "That should work right?" I had only taken one step towards the fire when the ceiling split, a large crack marring the pentagram Bobby'd painted.
"There," Sam cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as if getting comfortable. "That's better," He jerked his chin and Bobby flew from my side into the bookshelf before hitting the floor with a thud. I took a step towards Bobby only to feel myself lifted into the air by an invisible force. I was only in the air a moment before my back made painful contact with the wall and I sunk to the floor, gasping for breath. Dean hit the adjacent to mine, his face twisting in pain as his shoulder hit the wall first.
"You know when people want to describe the worst possible thing… they say it's like hell?" Sam knelt in front of Dean, one hand grabbing a fistful of Dean's collar. "Well, there's a reason for that," He slammed his fist into Dean's face. I made a move forward, but Sam held up a hand, pinning me to the wall again. "I'll get to you in a moment, honey," He promised me, his voice sugary sweet. "Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, hell. Hell is like…" He tried to find the words and punched Dean again across the face. "Well, it's like hell, even for demons," Another punch. "It's a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear," Another punch. I struggled against my invisible restraints. "And you sent me back there,"
"Meg…" Dean's pained eyes flicked to mine for a moment, remembering what I'd told him.
"No… not anymore. Now I'm Sam," He slammed his fist across Dean's face harder this time, and I could've sworn I heard bones crunching. Dean let out a a shaky, agonized breath that made tears prick behind my eyes. "By the way…" Sam dug his thumb into Dean's bullet wound. "I saw your dad there. He says 'howdy',"
"Stop!" I screamed, breaking his hold on me and kicking him sideways, sending him sprawling on the floor. Sam stood, throwing both hands towards me, making me slam back into the wall with dizzying force.
"You know, all that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and I was going to torture all of you, nice and slow, like pulling the wings off an insect, but whatever I do to him," Sam gestured to Dean as he knelt in front of me. "It's nothing compared to what he does to himself. No, the best torture for him is loosing his brother and his girlfriend. He thinks he's worthless. You can see it in his eyes," He laughed humorlessly. "And without you and Sammy? I don't need to kill him. He'll kill himself," The demon chuckled again. "You want to know the funniest part of all of this? You want to know the big secret?" He leaned closer to me till his lips were brushing my ear.
"In the master plan, Dean dies," My eyes widened. "Too bad you won't be around to see it," Sam pulled away from me, raising his arm to punch me when Bobby grabbed it, pressing a white hot iron to the symbol that was burned onto his arm. Sam's back arched violently as the demon forced its way out of his mouth and nose. Sam collapsed onto the floor, and I listened intently, relieved when I found a steady heartbeat.
"Dean?" I forced myself to crawl forward, ignoring the wave of fatigue and nausea that threatened to consume me.
"Yeah," He groaned, and I turned to see Sam clutching his burned arm, surprised pain on his face before his hand went to his bruised jaw. "Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice betraying his exhaustion.
"Did I miss anything?" He joked, attempting a smile. Dean slammed his fist across his brother's face, making him yell out in pain, and I crawled towards him slowly. "You want a shot too?" He questioned, gesturing to his face.
"Shut up," I muttered, yanking him towards me by the collar of his shirt so I could wrap my arms around his neck. For a moment, he was frozen, and then he was hugging me back tightly. I pulled away gently so as not to cause either of us more pain, and I came to a stop next to Dean.
"Hey," He groaned out, but he had the faintest ghost of a smile on his face.
"Hey," I answered, my mouth twitching up into a smile as I rested my head on his good shoulder for a moment. The four of us were silent for the better part of five minutes until I finally broke it. "Bobby, I need your first aid kit," I was too tired to raise my voice past a loud whisper, but he seemed to understand. He disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a medical kit.
"Again?" Dean complained, his voice pained as I pulled away from him to tug off his jacket.
"Don't be a baby," I admonished him lightly, doing my best to hide my own soreness and exhaustion. I had to bandage his arm again, for possessed Sam had completely destroyed the previous wrap job, which hadn't been that great to begin with.
"I'll try," He replied, and I let out a small half laugh. In a minute, the bandage was done. Bobby came back to pass out ice packs to Dean and I.
"Come on, let's go sit down," Dean gave me a pleading look, but I glanced at Sam, who nodded and helped me lift Dean as he staggered towards the chairs. I sat on Dean's right, leaning my head on his shoulder while he pressed an ice pack to his temple and I held one to my cheek.
"By the way, you really look like crap, guys," I just turned my head to fix Sam with a look.
"Yeah, right back at you," Dean responded, grimacing as he he put the ice pack to his bruise just as Bobby came back to fix us with a dark look.
"What's wrong?" I questioned, raising my head slightly.
"You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?" Bobby inquired, making both Dean and I stiffen.
"Why do you ask?" Dean took the question cautiously as Bobby narrowed his eyes at us.
"Just heard from a friend, Wandell's dead - murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that," He checked with us, looking at Dean and I for an answer.
"No, sir. We've never even heard of him," I answered for the three of us.
"Mel," Sam spoke up softly in protest.
"Good," Bobby cut him off. "Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up. They're not gonna slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?" I understood perfectly what Bobby was getting at.
"We better hit the road…" Dean began, slowly rising to his feet. "If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car," Sam rose as well, still holding the cold bandage to his burning arm.
"Here. Take these," Bobby held out three necklaces, which he distributed to each of us.
"You're giving us charms?" I questioned, holding up the necklace to get a better view of it.
"Yeah, they'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This will stop it from getting back up in you," He informed us, and I smiled slightly at his concern for our wellbeing.
"That sounds vaguely dirty," I elbowed Dean lightly, being gentler than usual. "But, uh, thanks," He amended, attempting a smile.
"You're welcome," Bobby replied, grinning at the three of us. "You three be careful, now,"
"We will," I promised him. "You take care, too," I added, giving him a one armed hug, which he returned before the three of us walked away from him, only pausing to toss our icepacks back.
"We're here," Dean nudged me, and I forced myself to wake up and get out of the car despite my sleepy daze. I grabbed my bag while Dean checked us into the motel. He didn't bother getting two rooms. There was no reason, for we were all exhausted. I grabbed a tank top, shorts and my tooth brush before heading to the bathroom for a shower. My shower lasted all of five minutes, just enough time to scrub off the dirt and blood before getting out and changing into my clothes.
"Mel, you look exhausted," Sam commented as I glanced around the room to find Dean was gone.
"Thanks, that's sweet," I replied, figuring he went to get snacks or something. "What's up?" I questioned as I saw Sammy's expression.
"What's up?" He repeated incredulously. "How can you even ask that after what we've been through the past two days," I couldn't suppress the small chuckle that escaped my lips.
"Yeah, I guess that was a stupid thing to ask," I admitted, taking a seat beside him on the bed he'd claimed. "Listen, Sammy. If it's about the demon and what happened, don't worry about it. Dean and I don't care what you did, we're just happy you're you again, okay?"
"Okay," He replied softly, looking down at his hands. "You should go find Dean, he went to get some ice," Sam turned to look at me, and his eyes dropped to my cheek where the bruise had formed.
"Yeah, okay," I agreed, mustering all my energy to stand before turning to face him again. I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Love you, Sammy," I told him before releasing him and beginning to walk to the door.
"I love you, too," He replied, making me smile slightly as I walked out the door. Dean was at the ice machine down the hall, filling a pack with one.
"You need me to hold that for you?" I questioned after I'd watched him attempt to shovel in the ice in amusement for a moment. He handed me the ice back, and I held it open for him as he scooped in the ice.
"What'd it tell you?" I tied the bag, resting it on the top of the ice machine as I dropped my eyes to the floor.
"Dean-" I began, shaking my head.
"Mel," He cut me off, and, suddenly, I was done with the lies and the secrets. I couldn't take it anymore.
"It told me you were going to die," I whispered, somehow feeling as though saying it aloud made it true. "It said that you dying was part of the master plan,"
"Mel," I looked up at him as he cupped my cheek with his hand, his thumb gently running over my bruise. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? To hell with their master plan. They can go screw themselves for all I care. I'm going to stay right here," I let out a small laugh as I rose onto my toes to brush his lips with mine lightly.
"Good," Despite all the danger we were facing, I was somehow satisfied with his response. "I love you, you know," I told him after a moment of silence, for the first time in a long time feeling as though I was being completely open and honest.
"I know," He replied softly. "I love you, too," He gave a small laugh, kissing me gently. "I love the hell out of you," I pressed my lips against his once more before I grabbed the ice bag and intertwined my fingers with his, leading him back to the room. Dean didn't bother showering and just climbed into bed, barely remembering to kick off his shoes. Sam was already asleep in the other bed next to us, and I slid in next to Dean, his good arm tightening around my waist. I gave a sigh of content as I drifted off.