**So, SO sorry this one took a long time to write. I don't think I will take this long to write the next couple, though, so that's good. Please, please review or PM me and tell me what you think of these. After this chapter, I'm going to start responding to the reviews at the end of each chapter! Thanks so much for reading my story! Hope you enjoy it!**
Roadkill
"Slow down," I squeezed Dean's hand slightly, nodding to the speedometer that now read fifty-five. He eased off the gas, making the needle drop to forty. "This is a crazy plan," I muttered, glancing out the windshield at the ice covered ground. We were driving through the night on highway 41, waiting for the woman to appear chased by the man covered in blood like all the previous victims had reported. I shifted in my seat again, trying to ignore how tense my muscles were.
"You said it yourself," Dean pointed out, using my own words against me. "This is the only way to find out how to stop the haunting," My eyes flicked to the rearview at Sam, who was leaning against the window, asleep. "Hey," Dean's word caught my attention, and I turned my apprehensive eyes on him. "Everything's gonna be fine. You'll see," He wasn't just talking about the case anymore. I slid closer to him before kissing his cheek gently, knowing he was just as worried as I was even if he wouldn't admit it.
"I know," I relented, smiling slightly at the dopey grin that had spread across his lips. His hand released mine and slipped around my waist before I could slide back into the passenger's seat, and he turned, capturing my lips with his.
"Stop!" The hoarse, desperate voice reached my ears, making me frown and break away from Dean to look at the road. "Stop!"
"Dean!" I yelled, pointing to the woman, who was now right in front of the car and waving her arms like a maniac.
"Holy-" The rest of his phrase was drowned out by the screeching of tires as he slammed on the breaks to avoid hitting the blonde woman. I lunged forward to grab the wheel, steadying it before we could veer off the road. The car stopped centimeters from the woman's stomach as she leaned back to avoid being hit. "Mel?" Dean's arm had tightened around my waist, preventing me from going through the windshield while I steadied the wheel.
"I'm okay," I assured him as I slumped against his side, weak with relief. "Sammy, you okay?" I questioned, turning in my seat quickly to make sure the boy hadn't been injured.
"Yeah," He groaned, now awake and sliding to the middle of the backseat before resting his elbows on the front seats to get a good look at the woman in front of the car.
"You've got to help me!" She begged loudly, not seeming the least bit startled that she was almost hit by a car. "Isn't that…?" I let the question hang as the woman ran around to my side of the car, banging on the window with a despairing yell. It was the woman from the picture. The first reported car crash in this area.
"Guys, I don't think she knows she's dead," Sam murmured in shock as the banging grew too loud to ignore any longer.
"I need you to calm down," I told her as I rolled down the window. "What happened to you?" Dean opened the car door, getting out of the Impala with Sam and I following his lead.
"I was driving with my husband, and I-I swerved, a-and we crashed. When I came to, the car was wrecked and my husband was missing, but that's when the man from the road, he-he started chasing me," Dean, Sam, and I exchanged a curious, surprised look. She didn't know she was dead.
"Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawn mower?" Sam glared at Dean for his insensitivity while I kept my eyes trained on the woman in front of us, awaiting her answer.
"How did you know that?" The woman questioned in shock. We were right. It was the farmer and the woman that had hit him. I gave Dean a look that clearly said 'don't tell her'.
"Lucky guess," He shrugged with a small grin.
"Ma'am, what's your name?" Sam asked as if we didn't already know.
"Molly. Molly McNamara," She answered unsteadily.
"Well, Molly," I addressed her by her name, hoping that would calm her down a little. "You should probably come with us. We can take you to the town," I didn't bother finishing the thought when I saw her shaking her head.
"I can't. I have to find David. He might have gone back to the car," She reasoned, refusing our help.
"We should get you somewhere safe first, and then Dean, Mel, and I will come back. We'll look for your husband," Sam tried, but she still shook her head.
"No. I'm not leaving here without him," She shook her head stubbornly, and I glanced at Dean, who looked back at me with understanding written in his eyes. "Would you just take me back to my car, please?" I met Sam's eyes and raised my eyebrows slightly, a look which he mimicked.
"Of course. Come on," He gestured to the car, and I sat in the back with Molly while Sam road in the passenger's seat. We drove for half a minute with Molly directing us until we came to a stop at the edge of the forest. I pulled my jacket tightly around me as I got out of the warm car for the second time.
"It's right over there," Molly walked into the trees while we followed, our boots crunching on the dry snow. She stopped abruptly at the edge of a short cliff, frowning at the empty forest that stretched out in front of her. "I don't understand. I'm sure this is where it was. W-we hit that tree right there," She pointed to the tree in front of us. "This-this doesn't make any sense," She jumped off the rock to where she'd thought the car was.
"Guys, we've got to get out of here," Sam muttered in a low voice so Molly wouldn't hear us.
"He's right. Greeley is going to show up any second," I agreed wholeheartedly, sweeping my flashlight around the surrounding forest as if the dead farmer would appear.
"What are you gonna tell her?" Dean questioned what we'd all been thinking about for the past two minutes.
"The truth," Sam spoke, his voice holding both resignation and determination.
"She's gonna take off running in the other direction," Dean warned, and I nodded in agreement, torn between lying to her and telling her what happened.
"She deserves to know," I decided finally, shoving my freezing hands into my pockets as she looked back at us.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I crashed into that tree," She pointed at the tree next to her, her eyes desperately searching ours for any signs of belief. "I don't know who could've taken it. I-it was totaled," We pretended to search the surroundings for it when all three of us knew what had happened to the car we were looking for. "Please," She begged us. "You have to believe me,"
"Listen, Molly, we do believe you, but right now I think it's best we get out of here," I implored her to get back to the Impala so we could go.
"What about David?" She questioned, and my heart hurt for her as I remembered speaking to the now remarried man. "Something must have happened. I have to get to the cops,"
"Cops - you know what, that's a great idea," Dean played on her words to get her to come back to the car before the vengeful farmer got here. "In fact, we'll take you down to the station ourselves, okay? So just come with us," She hesitated, glancing around the clearing with hope in her eyes.
"The best way for you to help your husband is to go to the police," I tried a different strategy, understanding all too well the worry she was feeling.
"Class, these are our new students. Melody Scott, and…" She consulted her clipboard for a moment before looking back up at the class. "Dean Winchester," My hand slipped from Dean's as he took a seat at the far end of the classroom and I opted for the one by the redhead girl with huge glasses that seemed to dwarf her face.
"Hey," I gave her an awkward half wave. It was truly amazing that I was still awkward. I'd been to two different schools just this month and had had to introduce myself to at least thirty different kids. Her only response was a small, timid smile and a short half wave before she returned to the open book in front of her. And I thought I was awkward. The class passed surprisingly quickly, and the bell rang earlier then I expected. I glanced down at the schedule I received from the office before looking at the redhead who was packing up next to me.
"Hey," I stopped her as she was about to leave. "Do you know where the World History class is?" She glanced at the door and then back at me for a moment before nodding.
"Yeah," She answered, coughing lightly. "I can walk you if you want. I have that class next," I nodded, relieved at having met someone who knew where they were going. I sure as hell didn't, and I doubted Dean would be much help.
"Thanks. I'd be in your debt," I told her, noticing the book she was caring clutched in her hands.
"You read Austin?" I questioned, gesturing to Pride and Prejudice, which she threw into her backpack.
"I like the Bronte sisters more," She spoke after a moment, her voice gaining confidence. I let out a small laugh at her response, knowing we were going to get along better than I'd thought.
"What's your name?" I asked, realizing I didn't know.
"Clarissa Montgomery. Clary," She simplified her name, but it was her full name that caught my attention.
"Montgomery? As in Morgan Montgomery?" Morgan Montgomery was the woman who disappeared last month without a trace.
"My sister," Clary whispered softly, turning away from me slightly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories," She shook her head at my apology, waving it off.
"It's okay," It wasn't. I knew that voice well enough to know it wasn't okay. Her sister was missing, and she was probably going out of her mind with hope and worry.
"If there's anything I could do to help, just let me know," I offered, and she frowned at me for a moment as we stopped outside a classroom.
"Why would you help me?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes behind her thick glasses. "I barely know you," I shrugged off her paranoia.
"You look like you could use a friend," I answered simply before pulling open the door and walking inside.
"We're supposed to be in Lake Tahoe," Molly murmured, pulling me from my memory, and making me turn to look at where she she sat beside me in the back seat of the Impala that Dean was driving.
"You and David?" Sam questioned, though he already knew the answer.
"It's our five-year anniversary," Molly nodded, confirming Sam's words.
"Hell of an anniversary," Dean commented in an apathetical tone that made me glance at the rearview mirror sharply. Instead of being offended, Molly just gave a small, half laugh, shaking her head.
"You know, right before, we were having the dumbest fight," Dean glanced at me in the rearview mirror, but I pretended not to notice, keeping my eyes fixed on Molly. "It was the only time we ever really argued - when we were stuck in the car,"
"Yeah," I agreed, a slight grin on my face as I tried to lighten the mood. "I get that," I felt Dean's eyes again but didn't turn.
"You know the last thing I said to him?" Molly asked us, not really expecting an answer. "I called him a jerk," A list of all the could-be last things I'd said to Dean ran through my head before I could stop it. "Oh, god…what if that's the last thing I said to him?" My heart sunk, and I had to look away from Molly then. That was the last thing she said to him.
"Molly…" Sam turned to fix her with a determined look that I knew would make her buy into anything he said to her. "We're gonna figure out what happened to your husband. I promise," Suddenly, the radio started playing static, and I felt the air grow colder. They call the rising son. The song began playing randomly, making me frown.
"Sam, please tell me you just turned on the music," I spoke calmly, even though I knew he hadn't turned on the radio. His head shake confirmed my suspicion. "Great," I muttered, all too aware that in our effort to keep from spooking Molly, we were currently weaponless.
"This song," Molly murmured, a far away look in her eyes as she leaned forward.
"What?" Dean questioned, his voice tense with worry.
"It was playing when we crashed," I met Dean's eyes in the rearview, both of us thinking the same thing. The second ghost was here, and it did not want to let her go. The radio began modulating again for a moment before an old, throaty voice came over the speakers.
"She's mine," It croaked hoarsely, getting clearer each time it repeated itself. "She's mine. She's mine,"
"What is that?" The fear was evident though her voice was soft.
"Dean," Though I didn't yell the word, the urgency in my voice got everyone's attention as I pointed at the ghostly figure standing in the middle of the road.
"Hold on," Dean spoke with a determination in his voice that immediately made me tense in apprehension. The car accelerated quickly, throwing Molly and I backwards into the seat.
"What are you doing!" Molly screamed at him as I grabbed the front seat to pull myself forward slightly to see the man in the road. We approached the figure rapidly, and then shot right through it as it evaporated into dark smoke. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"What the hell just happened?" Molly demanded as she turned to look at the empty road behind us.
"It's okay, Molly," I tried to reassure her, already calming down from the scare.
"She's right. Everything's going to be fine," Sammy agreed with me, and before Molly could reply, the car began slowing as the engine sputtered.
"I think you spoke a little too soon, Sammy," Dean pulled over to the side of the road as the engine completely died. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine sputtered again but didn't rev. "I could pop the hood," Dean suggested half-heartedly.
"That's not the problem," I told them quietly, glancing at Molly. "He's not going to let her leave,"
"This can't be happening," Molly denied as we got out of the car and headed towards the trunk to retrieve our weapons, Molly's worry not a big priority right now.
"Well, trust me, it's happening," Dean informed her helpfully as he inserted the key into the lock and popped the trunk open. I lifted the false hood and Dean propped it open with a gun. Molly came around to stand beside me, freezing when she saw the arsenal we kept back there.
"Well… okay… thanks for helping, but I think I got it covered from here," She told us, backing away slowly as I turned to face her, a shotgun filled with rock salt still in my hands.
"Molly, wait, okay?" I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender before realizing I still had the gun and quickly setting it down behind me.
"Just leave me alone," She was begging us now as Sam took a step towards her and she took a couple back in response.
"No. Please. You have to listen to me," Sam pleaded with her while she shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on him as she backed away slowly.
"Just stay away," She turned to go when Sam called to her.
"It wasn't a coincidence that we found you, all right?" My eyes flicked to him in surprise as I wondered if he was going to tell her what was really going on here.
"What are you talking about?" She demanded, whipping around to face us.
"We weren't just cruising by when we ran into you, sister," Dean added, coming to stand by Sammy and I.
"He's right. We were out here for a reason," I agreed, glancing at him before fixing my eyes on the terrified woman in front of us who probably thought we were serial killers. "We were hunting," I stated ambiguously.
"Hunting for what?" She asked the hard question.
"Ghosts," Dean answered, brutally honest with her before turning back to check the guns in the car. I shrugged, following him to the open trunk to prepare for what was coming to get Molly.
"D-don't sugarcoat it for her, guys," Sam muttered sarcastically while I gave him half a wave in response.
"You're nuts," She stated, shaking her head.
"If you really think that, then why aren't you running?" I questioned her, leaning on the Impala and crossing my arms over my chest. She seemed surprised by the question and struggled to respond. "You just saw a guy vanish in the middle of the street. You really think we're crazy?"
"We think his name is Jonah Greeley," Sam added after she made no reply to my words. "He was a local farmer that died fifteen years ago on this highway,"
"Just stop," Molly turned from him as she pleaded him to stop talking.
"One night a year, on the anniversary of his death, he haunts this road. That's why we're here, Molly. To try and stop him," Sam informed her part of the truth.
"No, I suppose this ghost made my car disappear, too," I could almost feel Sam gearing up to tell her the real truth. Tell her that she was, in fact, a ghost herself.
"That's the theory we're working with, yeah," I nodded, coming to stand beside Sam as I confirmed her statement.
"Crazier things have happened, huh?" Dean questioned, hitting Sam lightly on the arm as he walked by on his way to Molly, who was standing with her arms folded and frowning in disbelief.
"Well, you know what? I'm all filled up on crazy. I'm gonna go get the cops myself," She informed us, spinning and beginning to walk down the road.
"I don't mean to be harsh, but I don't think you're gonna get too far," Dean told her truthfully.
"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded in a hard voice.
"It means that our first plan was to try to get you away from the ghost. That didn't work too well. Obviously," I gestured to the car that was on the side of the road.
"Molly, we're telling the truth," Sam approached her again, and this time she didn't run. "Greeley's not gonna let you leave this highway,"
"You're s… you're serious about this, aren't you?" She stammered, taking a few, small steps towards us hesitantly.
"Deadly," I let out a soft, almost inaudible laugh at Dean's choice of words.
"Every year, Greeley finds someone to punish for what happened to him. Tonight that person is you," Sam told her gently, making her shake her head.
"Why me? I didn't do anything," Sam shrugged, ignoring the fact that she did do something.
"It doesn't matter whether you did anything or not," I helped Sam, who was groping for a reason he'd be trying to punish her. "Sometimes, spirits see what they want to see,"
"So you're saying this Greeley, he took my husband?" Sam blinked, thrown by her sudden shift in focus. I couldn't help but feel pity for her. I glanced sideways at Dean beside me, imagining if I died and he moved on with someone else. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts, frowning at the morbidity.
"Molly, look, we're gonna help, all right? But first, you got to help us," She fixed her wide eyes on Sam in shock at his statement.
"Help you?" She echoed, her eyes flicking between Sam, Dean and I. "How?" She finally asked, a new resilience in her voice.
"Dean, we're supposed to be researching for the case," I gasped out in between laughs as he ran his fingers lightly over the ticklish spot on my stomach.
"We have time," He shrugged, seeming unconcerned with the information that John had ordered us to look up in the various books that lay scattered around the room. "Besides, we've been researching for hours," He sat back on the couch, releasing me from his hold so I could catch my breath.
"Come on, Dean. We might be missing something," Normally, I'd toss the book that was open in my lap to the side at Dean's suggestion, but I'd befriended one of the girls involved in the case. "I'm worried about…"
"Clary," Dean finished for me, for he'd met the girl from school as well. "Nothing's going to happen if you take a few minutes off," He tried a different tactic, which made me hesitate for a moment before I shook my head, returning to the book. A surprised squeal escaped my mouth as the book was abruptly torn from my fingers.
"Dean!" I protested as he leaned back, holding the book out of my reach while I stretched my arm out for it. "Give it back!" I grabbed his wrist, climbing over his legs to try to reach the anthology. What I didn't realize, was that when I climbed over him, I was straddling his waist with my knees on the couch and my hand on his shoulder to keep myself up.
"Come on, you almost got it," He taunted, waving the book in his arm while tilting his head back so he could see it. Suddenly, the arm of the hand that was gripping his shoulder to keep me up gave out. My eyes instantly snapped down as my other arm flew to his shoulder to save myself from colliding with him. The end result was me staring down into the emerald eyes of my boyfriend with my arms resting on his chest and my hand tangled in his hair. His breathing grew irregular…or maybe it was mine. My heart began pounding harder against my ribcage, and I could feel Dean's keeping pace beneath my arms.
I leaned down to press my lips against his. He responded instantly, tilting his head to the side and inclining it as his tongue explored my mouth. His free arm wrapped around my waist while my other hand reached up to play teasingly with his short hair, making him moan softly. My hand freed itself from his hair and traveled down his bicep to the hand that was clutching the book before slipping it from his grasp. For a moment, I was torn between the heavenly feeling of his lips on mine and the research that John had ordered us to do. Dean began pulling away, realizing I'd taken the book, but I just slid it onto the coffee table a foot away from us. He let out a small chuckle when he realized what I'd done.
"Guess I convinced you, huh?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows, an infuriatingly sexy smirk playing on his lips.
"Shut up," I muttered, grinning as I pressed my forehead to his before kissing him again lightly.
"This is it" I blinked back to reality as we arrived at the destination. "This is where I saw him," Molly announced as she pointed into what must have been the living room of the dark, abandoned, decrepit cabin.
"Must have been his hunting cabin," Dean mused, and I nodded as I stepped past Molly to shine my flashlight around the room. Dean's flashlight caught a variety of skinning and cutting tools that were hung up on the wall. "Seemed like a real sweet guy,"
"Yeah," I muttered my agreement with his sarcastic remark as I continued around the room.
"No markers or headstones outside," Sam informed us, coming into the room beside Molly.
"You're looking for Greeley's grave?" Molly questioned, catching on quicker than I expected her too.
"Yeah, we are," I responded without turning back to face her.
"Why?" She asked, glancing between Dean, Sam, and I in morbid curiosity.
"So we can dig up the corpse and salt and burn it," Dean told her flatly, and I let out a small laugh at his bluntness. There was no point in lying to her; she was already dead. The more she knew, the easier it would be to tell her what was really going on.
"Oh. Sure. Naturally," Was her sardonic reply.
"It's the best way to get rid of a spirit," I shrugged as if the information were no big deal while she stared at Dean and I.
"And that'll save David?" Despite everything that was going on, I couldn't help but admire her for her persistence in saving David. We had met a lot of woman who's first thought would've been to save themselves. Her first thought was about him.
"This is what's best for both of you," I told her, shutting off my flashlight and turning to face her. "If there is a corpse, of course,"
"Of course," She echoed with a note of sarcasm. "So how do we find it?"
"Uh, not sure," Sam spoke truthfully, glancing around. "After Greeley died, his wife claimed the body, and that was the last anyone saw of her. So good guess she brought him back here. But they had a thousand acres. He could be buried anywhere on 'em," Sam's news was just a tad disheartening.
"This is really what you three do? You're like ghostbusters," A note of awe entered her voice, making my mouth twitch up into a smile. She really had no idea.
"Yeah. Minus the jumpsuits," Dean agreed, abandoning the search for clues to join us at the door. "Look, lady, this is a fascinating conversation and all, but this highway is only haunted once a year, and we got till sunup to wrap this thing up. So what do you say we move it along, okay?" He glanced at the three of us in turn. "Great," He answered our silent replies before moving past us and out the door. I followed him, frowning at his curtness. When we were outside, Sam and Molly took one of the paths while Dean and I headed down the other.
"What did you mean before?" He questioned quietly, breaking the silence. "About us arguing in the car. We don't argue in the car," I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head.
"Really, Dean? You, Sam, and I never had an argument while being cooped up in the car for twelve hours at a time?" His mouth worked as if he were going to deny it, but no sound came out. Suddenly, there was a scream to our left, and we both sprinted towards the noise only to see the farmer grabbing Molly's shoulders tightly. He forced her to her knees while she screamed, and I grabbed a shotgun from the bag that was slung over Dean's shoulder. I didn't hesitate before firing it at the creature, making it disappear in a puff of black smoke while Molly panted and gasped on the ground.
"Hey!" Sam's voice broke in as his run slowed to a jog when he reached us. "Are you all right?"
"What has that son of a bitch done with my husband?" Molly demanded, her voice hoarse with worry and anger.
"Just calm down, okay?" I told her, my eyes raking the surrounding forest for any signs of the ghosts return. "You'll see David again. Don't worry,"
"Hey," Dean called, earning all of our attention as he pointed down the path that led in front of us. "Follow the creepy brick road," He joked darkly, and Sam gestured for Molly to go in front of him.
"Go ahead," Dean led with me, Molly, and Sam following closely behind him.
"They uncovered another body," John's voice was hard and cold as he informed us of the news. I frowned, throwing on my jacket as Dean pulled on his boots. John tossed Dean the keys to the Impala while I eyed him enviously. Since Dean was now eighteen, he could drive without a problem in every state. I still had another month to go before that applied to me. I slid into the back while Dean and John took the front seats.
"Who was the victim?" I questioned from the back, but John only shrugged in response. That meant one of two things. One, he didn't want to tell me, or two, he didn't know. I frowned at the back of his head but shrugged, knowing that I'd find out soon enough. The location was only a couple minutes away.
"The body was torn apart, as if it was an animal attack. The victim's purse and money were stolen," So the victim was definitely killed by the goblin we were hunting. We'd just discovered the theory a couple minutes before John got the call about the body. "There was no form of I.D. on the corpse," He relayed what he'd learned from the sheriff, who'd called him with the news. He was posing as an FBI agent, and we were supposedly his interns. Sammy was still too young to work cases, so he was at soccer practice while Dean and I accompanied John to the crime scene.
"Here," John gestured to the clearing to the side of the road where caution tape was already being set up. Dean pulled in, and the three of us got out. That's when I saw the body. I only really got a glimpse of it before a man in a big jacket obscured my vision, but there was no mistaking the face. Her face.
"Oh, my god," I breathed, staring as the man moved to reveal her face once more. Her bouncy, orange hair that had looked so full of life two weeks ago when I'd met her, now looked dull and limp. "Clary," I muttered her name. She'd been the first girl to be nice to me at Raven Hill High School. Well, really, I was nice to her, for I was the one to ask her where the World History class was. She had reminded me of Sammy, a little bit nerdy but lovable anyway. I told her she'd be okay. I'd promised her she'd get out of all of this okay. "Clary!" I got passed the caution tape and made it halfway to the body before a man gripped me around the waist, hindering me from going to her pale, lifeless red body. The man was speaking to me, but I couldn't hear what he said. All I could see was the girl lying dead on the scarlet stained grass. The sophomore I'd promised to protect.
"Mel!" That word finally caught my attention. His voice caught my attention. I turned my head to see it was now Dean restraining me while I struggled.
"It''s Clary," But he already knew. The pain in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide told me that.
"I know, Mels," He pressed his lips into my hair. "I know," He murmured while I trembled in his arms, suddenly feeling very helpless. It had only been two weeks, but I'd already felt as though Clary were a younger sister to me. Someone to take under my wing and protect.
"Take her to the car," John ordered Dean, who didn't hesitate to comply, leading me to the car with an arm around my shoulders that prevented me from looking back and seeing my friend's motionless body.
"It's my fault," I mumbled, looking down at the tip of my boot as soon as I'd calmed down. I hadn't cried. I hadn't known her well enough to cry, but I'd felt like I should've protected her. My mind brought back the image of Dean and I making out when John had told us to research the creature. "I should've read the book," Dean flinched as he realized what I was thinking about.
"Mel, you couldn't have known-" He began, trying to make me feel better.
"Except I did know, Dean," I rested my back on the Impala door as I met his eyes. "It takes one family member, and then comes for the rest a few months later. Her sister was taken a few months ago. I did know. I was the only one that could've stopped it. And I chose to waste time with you instead,"
"That thing shoots rock salt?" Molly spoke up from behind me, and I gave a small sigh. I'd nearly forgotten what it was like to explain what we do to someone who had no idea ghosts existed.
"Yep," Sam answered with a sigh that echoed mine.
"And plain salt keeps away spirits?" She repeated what we'd told her.
"Yeah," I answered with a small smile. "You know what they say, simple remedies always work the best," Dean let out a small half laugh beside me. I glanced back to see Molly gazing at me in a mixture of awe and surprise at my joke. "In most cultures, salt represents purity and innocence, so it burns anything evil it comes into contact with,"
"Same reason you throw it over your shoulder," Sam chimed in, making me nod as I turned back to the road ahead of us. We walked around the final bend of the trail only for our flashlight beams to land on an ancient looking, decrepit wooden house.
"You know, just once, I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house," Dean commented as we made our way to the abandoned building.
"Hate to break it to you, but you might be in the wrong line of work," I responded, making Dean grin and Sam laugh as we reached the house. Sam opened the door slowly, causing it to creak loudly from lack of use and oil. Dean and I walked around the house to check for any graves or suspicious activity that might lead us to clues about the dead farmer.
"We need to tell her," I muttered lowly, in case she could hear us. We'd rarely encountered a ghost who, not only didn't know she was dead, but was being haunted by another ghost.
"We can't tell her. It'll freak her out and she'll split," Dean argued, and I shook my head, knowing he was right but still wanting to tell her the truth about what was going on.
"Maybe if we show her David…" I trailed off, realizing that that tactic would probably freak her out even more.
"Yeah, 'hey, you've been dead for fifteen years, here's your husband now'," Dean mocked, making me sigh and let out a small laugh. "We will tell her eventually," He added as he took in my expression. "Why do you want to tell her so bad?" Dean questioned, focusing on me as we rounded the last corner of the house to reach the front door again.
"I would want to know," I told him, and he caught my arm, stopping me before we got to the door. "I would want to know if I was her," I repeated the words, turning to face him.
"You would want to know that I moved on and had a family?" Dean asked incredulously, searching my eyes for the answer. I flinched at his tone which caused him to look instantly sorry.
"I'd want to know you were safe," I spoke earnestly, and he hesitated before opening his mouth to reply.
"Guys?" Sam's shout interrupted him, and I quickly turned, disappearing inside the door before I could hear Dean's response.
"Any headstones outside?" Sam questioned as we came in, and the door creaked shut eerily behind us.
"Since when has our job been that easy?" I replied to his question with a rhetorical one. Dean dumped the duffel he'd been carrying on the couch before going to the back of the room as Sam sighed heavily.
"I guess never," He answered unnecessarily while Dean scoured the kitchen are with his flashlight and I began heading towards the stairs. I reached them at the same time Dean, Sam, and Molly, who had come through the kitchen, did.
"Sam, take Molly and see if you can find any notes or records telling us where he's buried. Me and Mel will just check down here," Dean didn't look at me when he ordered Sam to check upstairs.
"Right," Sam muttered, glancing at me before starting up the stairs. I headed towards the living room and began rummaging through the desk that was pressed against the wall at the back.
"I wouldn't want to know," Dean finally spoke up, and I turned to see him crossing the room towards me. I frowned in surprise at his words. He wouldn't want to know I was safe? "I would want to think I was saving you,"
"She doesn't even know if he's alive," I told Dean, straightening from where I'd been crouching in front of the desk. "You'd rather think that I could be dead?"
"Then know you'd moved on? That you had another life? Kids? And I wasn't a part of any of that?" My eyes widened in slight surprise as he brought up having a family outside of hunting. "I'd rather think I was saving you,"
"I'd rather know you'd moved on," I murmured, looking up at him as he frowned. "Dean, if I died, I'd want you to move on," I finally spoke the words that our previous conversation had been leading up to. I knew he hated talking in hypotheticals, but recently a dark, foreboding feeling had began twisting my stomach, and as much as I had tried, I was unable to shake it. I needed to have this conversation.
"Mel, nothing is going to happen to you," He assured me, placing his hands gently on my cheeks as I gazed into his determined green eyes. "I promised, remember? Me, you, and Sammy. We're going to be okay," He took a deep, shaky breath, but his eyes were clear and unwavering. "And afterwards, after all of this is over and we kill the yellow-eyed demon, we're getting out," My eyes widened in shock then narrowed in confusion.
"Dean…" I didn't know how to respond. Our whole lives all Dean ever wanted was to be a hunter and have our family together. Now, all of a sudden, he was talking about leaving the life.
"I've been thinking about it since dad died," He admitted, still searching my eyes for some answer. "This life… what happens to hunters… I don't want that for us. You said you want kids. Let's have some. Mel, let's have a life," It scared me. I had seen what happened to hunters. I had seen what happened to hunters who started talking the way Dean was talking.
"What happened to 'there's always going to be something to hunt'?" I repeated Dean's words from a year ago when Sam had asked us what we would do when the yellow-eyed demon was dead.
"I don't know," He shrugged, glancing away from me before looking back. "I just…" He seemed at a loss for words, so he just shook his head and looked away again.
"Me too," I agreed, causing his eyes to flick to mine in a surprise that was tinged with hope. "After we kill the yellow-eyed demon, we'll leave," I nodded, a small smile beginning on my lips and growing wider with each passing moment that I thought about what Dean was suggesting. "We'll have a house and a kid and a maybe a dog-"
"A dog?" Dean echoed, grinning in amusement as I shrugged, laughing a little.
"Why not?" I shrugged, laughing lightly. I opened my mouth to continue but was cut off by Dean's lips pressed to mine urgently.
"I love you," He murmured against my lips, making me break away from him gently to see his eyes slowly flutter open and fix on me as a soft smile graced his lips. I loved his laugh and his dumb jokes and the way he tried to hide his pain to stop me from worrying. I loved his kisses and his arms wrapped around me and the way he'd make me feel safe in the most dangerous situations. He made all the shit and the horror and the devastation that I'd seen doing this job okay because he was beside me. I loved him so much that it hurt my heart to even think about leaving him.
"I love you, too," I smiled as I spoke the words before brushing his lips with mine softly. "We should go get Sam," I forced myself to pull away from him, only then realizing he'd wrapped his arms around my waist tightly. He sighed in slight annoyance before I intertwined my fingers with his and led him up the stairs.
"Well, they weren't evil people, you know?" Sam was speaking to Molly in a lower, dark tone that let me know he was close to telling her what was really going on. "A lot of them were good. Just…something happened to them. Something they couldn't control,"
"Sammy's always getting a little J. Love Hewitt when it comes to things like this," Dean broke in as we stood in the doorway of the old, wooden bedroom. Sam and Molly, who were both sitting on the bed, looked up at us as Dean spoke. "Me, I don't like 'em, and I sure as hell ain't making apologies for 'em," Dean shot Molly a small glare before glancing at me.
"We didn't find anything downstairs," I informed the two on the bed as Dean and I walked into the room. "Did you two get anything?"
"Uh, just about every piece of mail or receipt they ever had," Sam conveyed what they'd found, which wasn't much. "Looked through a couple, but nothing about a grave so far," Suddenly, I frowned at the dresser in front of us and reached out to run my hand over the faint edges. "What?" Sam questioned, shining his flashlight my way.
"I think there's something behind here," I muttered, glancing back to see Dean toss Sam his flashlight. Dean grabbed the dresser and pulled it away from the wall, revealing a small, wooden door that Dean knocked on a few times.
"It's locked from the inside," He announced as I knelt beside him, shining my flashlight at the door so he could see what he was doing.
"I got it," He moved aside, and I handed him my flashlight before placing my back on the floor of the short tunnel and slamming my foot against the wood. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as the door swung open. I looked into the room to see spiderwebs hanging everywhere. I pulled myself out of the short tunnel and gestured for Dean to go in first.
"Scared we'll find some mice?" He joked while my teeth clenched, and I scoffed at the guess.
"No," Yes. I did not like mice. Sam gave a laugh that made me throw him a look as Dean ducked through the hole and I followed.
"Smells like old lady in here," He commented, wrinkling his nose as his flashlight swept across the room.
"Maybe that has something to do with it," I offered, jerking my chin at the skeleton that was hanging by its neck from the ceiling.
"Well, now we know why no one ever saw her again," Dean noted as Sam went to the skeleton and began untying it.
"She didn't want to live without him," Molly murmured, sounding broken, and I shifted closer to Dean, suddenly slightly scared of the skeleton in front of us.
"Dean, give me a hand," Sam told him as he realized that he couldn't untie the dead woman alone.
"Really?" Dean asked with a disgusted look, making me shoot him a withering glance.
"What are you gonna do?" Molly questioned, her eyes flicking back and forth between the three of us as Sam's eyes turned pleadingly to me.
"We can't just leave her like this," Sam protested, and I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with his point.
"Why not?" Dean inquired, still looking disgusted at what Sam was insinuating they should do.
"She deserves a proper burial," I added, frowning sadly at the corpse in front of us. Dean gave a disgruntled sigh before going to the woman and lifting her legs slightly while Sam cut the rope that she hung from.
"So, if you manage to put Greeley to rest, too… what happens to them?" Molly questioned an hour later as I helped Dean out of the grave he'd dug and Sam and I began shoveling dirt back into it.
"Lady, that answer is way beyond our pay grade," Dean answered her churlishly.
"You hunt these things, but you don't know what happens to them?" She asked, unfazed by Dean's rudeness to her throughout this hunt.
"They don't come back to hurt people. That's the only thing that matters," I replied, having thought about that before. I had decided a long time ago that we couldn't change what happened to the spirits after we'd ganked them, so there was no point in wondering.
"After they let go of whatever's keeping them here, they…they just go," Sam added unhelpfully, for he knew as little about it as Dean and I did. "I hope someplace better, but we don't know. No one does,"
"What happens when you burn their bones?" She continued questioning us about the afterlife. I glanced at her curiously as a sudden thought occurred to me. What if she was subconsciously curious about this because somewhere inside she knew she was dead?
"Um…well, my dad used to say that was like death for ghosts, you know? But…the truth is, we still don't know. Not for sure," She slowly sunk down to crouch at the edge of the woman's grave as Dean and I kept filling it in. "Guess that's why we all hold on to life so hard, even the dead," Sam glanced back at Dean and I as he spoke morosely. Dean was right. He did turn into J. Love Hewitt. "We're all just scared of the unknown," Sam wrapped up his preaching by grabbing his shovel and beginning to fill in the hole again.
"The only thing I'm scared of is losing David," Molly told us, determination lining her words. All three of us froze at her words, and I glanced at Dean, whose eyes flicked away from me the moment I caught them. "I have to see him again," She muttered, shaking her head. "I have to,"
My phone rang for the sixth time that day. I ignored it, knowing it was Dean again. I'd barely said two words to him over the past few days since Clary's death. We'd gotten nowhere on the case, and, to make matters worse, I had to go to Clary's funeral, which is why I was currently standing on the outskirts of a graveyard. When I'd been invited to her funeral, I'd been surprised to say the least. I hadn't known her for that long, and it wasn't as though she and I had hung out every day at her house.
Apparently, Clary had talked about me a lot to her parents, who'd thought it was their duty to invite me to her funeral. Her parents were broken to say the least. Loosing one child was bad enough, but loosing two within a couple months was almost unbearable. John had let me take the Impala to the funeral only under the condition that I do research for the case afterwards and attempt to find out as much as I could about the murder.
I sniffled, brushing a tear off my cheek with my hand roughly while doing my best not to break down. The girl who'd become my best friend was murdered two days ago, and John wanted me to work the case. I found myself suddenly wanting to talk to Dean. That feeling was almost instantly coupled with a deep pit of anger. I knew it was irrational to be this angry at him about something I'd helped take part in. It was my fault as well. I hadn't exactly put up that much of a struggle when he'd kissed me, but it was easier to blame him than to face the fact that it was my fault. It was my fault my friend was dead.
I bowed my head and sniffled again, taking a deep, shaky breath to try to prevent my throat from closing. I thought I could do this. I thought I could go to her funeral and still remain objective and work the case. I was wrong. I couldn't… I took another deep breath, shaking my head to try to rid myself of those thoughts. I needed Dean. I pulled out my phone to look at my messages only to see three missed calls from Dean. I frowned as I scrolled up to see the last missed call wasn't from Dean. It was from Sam. I clicked the call button and pressed the phone to my ear as it rang.
"Mel?" Sam's breathless, terrified voice answered the phone.
"Sam, what's wrong?" I was instantly on alert, my eyes scanning the mourners a few meters from me that were getting into their cars and leaving.
"Mel, it's Dean," My entire body froze at the hysterical words Sam was rapidly speaking. "I don't know what he was thinking. Oh, god. I don't know what to do. It's going to come back. I can't-" Sam broke off in a sob that broke me out of my paralysis.
"Sam, I need you to calm down," I ordered him, keeping my voice low. "Is Dean okay?"
"I don't know," He whispered hoarsely, making my heart squeeze painfully.
"What do you mean you don't know?" I desperately tried to fight down the rising panic.
"He's-I don't-what-I don't know-" He stammered, and I could almost feel him shaking over the phone.
"Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Sammy, alright? Just tell me where you are," I commanded him, trying to keep myself together while I hurried to the car and turned the key in the ignition.
"Just off of Alpeak road," His voice shook as he gave me the directions, and I gripped the phone tightly. "We parked on the side of the road at mile twenty-seven. There's a trail,"
"What do you mean you parked?" I questioned, frowning as I blasted through a yellow light that turned red right after I crossed. "I have the car,"
"Dean took one that was at the motel," If I hadn't been driving, I would've smacked my forehead with my hand. I hadn't let him come. Instead, I'd convinced John to let me go alone, for I was the only one invited, after all.
"Where is Dean?" I questioned, needing to know the answer, but also not wanting Sammy to start panicking again.
"He's here," Sam's voice grew tight and worried.
"What's wrong with him? Can I talk to him?" I asked one question after the next, not giving Sam a chance to reply.
"He-I-H-He's h-hurt," Sam finally got out, and I could feel him beginning to loose it again. "I-I d-don't know-I don't know-I just-"
"Sammy, it's okay. Alright? It's all going to be okay. I promise," I got to mile marker twenty-seven, and parked the car on the side of the road before grabbing the gun out of the glove compartment. I jerked open the door and sprinted out, slamming it behind me.
"Hurry," Sammy whispered, scared.
I sat on the old, beat up couch with Dean on my left, his arm around my waist as we debated what we should do next. There was no good course of action that didn't involve sitting on our asses doing nothing. We'd checked everywhere and had found nothing that would give us any clue about what the spirit was tied to that was causing him to kill.
"I think we should tell her about her husband," Sam whispered from behind Dean and I.
"We can't," Dean stated flatly, not even bothering to glance back at his brother.
"Guys, it's cruel, letting her pine for him like this. I don't like keeping her in the dark," Sam protested, glancing at where Molly was leafing through an old photo album.
"Neither do I, but it's for her own protection," I defended Dean's perspective while Sam looked surprised at the side I'd taken. "Look," I began, rising from the couch to turn and look at Sam. "I know that you feel guilty about it; I do too, but we need to stick to the plan we made,"
"Mel's right. Let's get her out of here, then we'll tell her," Dean agreed with me just as Molly came up to us.
"Tell me what?" She demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "What aren't you telling me?" She questioned again as we all remained silent. "It's about David. You know what happened to him," Her words started picking up speed as she realized what the secret was about.
"Molly-" Sam started, and I could tell just by his tone that he was going to tell her everything.
"Don't," I stopped him, giving him a look that told him to be quiet.
"Don't what?" Molly pounced on my word, demanding to know what we were hiding. "Don't tell me because I'll mess up your hunt?" She spat venomously as she came closer to us. "You don't care about me or my husband,"
"That's not true," Sam tried to argue with her, but she wouldn't have it.
"Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please," Sam hesitated, his mouth moving but no words came out. I looked away from Molly not being able to meet her eyes while she begged me to tell her where the love of her life was. We were spared the answer when suddenly the radio began modulating, and House of the Rising Sun began playing. "He's coming," Molly took a terrified step back as she realized what the radio meant.
"Stay with her," Dean glanced at Sam and I as he spoke before setting off into the other room with me following. I expected Dean to stop me when he turned to see me following with my gun pointed at the floor, but, instead, he just grinned slightly and kept going. I knelt beside the radio, flicking the cloth to see it was turned on before my eyes flicked to the ground. I lifted the cut wire that was supposed to connect the radio to the outlet.
"Mel," Dean's soft word got my attention, and I turned to see the glass window frosting over. The words SHE'S MINE were spelled out clear as day. Suddenly, there was a deafening scream from the other room, causing Dean and I to rush in.
"Guys, he's got Molly!" Sam shouted, jumping through the shattered window with Dean and I on his heels. We sprinted until we hit a clearing where we turned, shining our flashlight over ever bit of our surroundings but seeing no signs.
"Shit," I swore before running back to the house with both boys following me.
"This guy is persistent," Dean muttered in annoyance as he followed me through the house.
"We got to find Molly," Sam spoke his first priority, seeming to get distracted by a book that was sitting on the table.
"And burn Greeley's bones," I added, running a hand through my hair agitatedly.
"Yeah, and, uh, no pressure or anything, but we got less than two hours before sunrise," Dean commented, glancing out the window.
"Hey!" Sam called us into the kitchen, having picked up the book from the table.
"What do you got?" Dean questioned, shining his flashlight on the book Sam was holding.
"February 6th, 1992," I read the date that was written next to the photo of Greeley and his wife. "That was two weeks and a half before the accident," Suddenly, I understood what was going on. "Wait, that's the hunting cabin except… isn't there a tree there?" I pointed to where they were standing in the photo, and Sam let out a surprised 'oh'.
"We should have thought of it," Sam whispered, glancing at me to see my eyes were also wide with the realization.
"What?" Dean questioned, his eyes flicking back and forth between us. "Care to share?"
"It's an old country custom, Dean," Sam informed his brother. "Planting a tree as a grave marker," He explained, and Dean nodded before frowning at his brother.
"You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness," Dean's comment made me laugh slightly, and Sam glared at me as Dean walked away.
"Don't worry, Sammy," I grinned at him as I brushed past him, ruffling his hair. "We love you for it,"
"Yeah, I know," He snapped back, smoothing down his now messy hair.
"How far down the path do I go?" I questioned, realizing I had no idea where I was going or what I was looking for.
"Th-There's this rock th-thing," Sammy got out, and I only had to turn the bend up ahead to see it. "H-Hurry. Please, Mels. D-De-" He broke off, and I could hear muffled sobbing.
"I'm coming, Sammy, okay? Hang on," I promised before snapping the phone shut and running towards the cave with my gun still cocked. "Sammy?" I called, and I didn't need an answer, for at that moment I saw him. He was crouching over a taller figure that was leaning against the wall. Dean. I rushed over to them, dropping to my knees in front of him.
"Dean, hey, what-" The word died on my lips as I put a hand on his shoulder and one on his leg, feeling warm liquid touch my hand. My eyes dropped to his leg to see the left side of his jeans was drenched in blood. "Oh, god," I whispered, feeling my throat closing against my will. "What'd you do?" My eyes flicked to his face as he moved slightly, and his eyes fluttered open lazily.
"Mel?" His words were slurred as he blinked sleepily at me before his eyes moved to Sammy, looking faintly angry. "Told you not to call her," The anger seemed to have taken a lot out of him because he grew paler and leaned against the wall for support again as he breathed heavily.
"It was a good thing he called me," I frowned at him for a moment before the expression morphed into worry again. "Did you call 9-1-1?"
"I-I can't. I-It's going to come b-back," It? Suddenly, my eyes widened in realization.
"The goblin? The goblin did this?" Sam nodded hurriedly, and I glanced at Dean's drained face before my eyes flicked to the cave entrance. "I need your belt," I told Sam brusquely. "Take my gun,"
"W-what?" He questioned in shock only to have me fix him with a look.
"I need to make a tourniquet to stem the blood flow otherwise he's going to-" My voice cracked, and I took a steadying breath. I had to be strong for Sammy…and Dean. "Just do it," Sam handed me the belt before taking the gun and pointing it at the entrance. "There's silver bullets. There's a lot of lore that says silver bullets kill them, so I loaded it before I went to the funeral," I explained, my voice wavering and rapid. "Hey!" I gently slapped Dean's face, and his head jerked up slightly, his tired eyes fixing on me again.
"Hey," He murmured, smiling unsteadily.
"You have to be more careful. What were you thinking?" I snapped at him, suddenly furious at him for getting into this mess. I removed the shirt Sam had been using to stop the bleeding, and, instead, I wrapped the belt around it.
"'M sorry," Dean mumbled before I tightened the belt. He let out a pained scream as I bit back a sob. His eyes were suddenly more alert and aware, and they focused on me, the pain clear in them.
"We have to call 9-1-1," I ordered Sammy, whose eyes widened.
"But the goblin-" He started.
"I don't care," I snapped back. I couldn't give a shit whether the goblin went free as long as Dean would be okay. Why would he come out here by himself?
"Mel," My eyes reluctantly rose from his leg to meet his wide green ones. "I'm sorry,"
"Don't," I shook my head, trying to stop the tears from coming. "Just don't, okay? You're going to be fine," I begged him to agree with me as a small tear slid down my cheek.
"Okay," He whispered, and I gave him a shaky smile. "Hey, Sammy," Sam turned to look at his older brother with worry and fear battling in his eyes. "When we get out of this I'm going to give you that driving lesson, alright?" Sam's face broke into a small smile, and he managed a laugh.
"Yeah, okay, Dean," He agreed halfheartedly, and Dean slumped back against the wall.
"Did you call?" Sam shook his head, and I opened my mouth to protest.
"If I call paramedics, they are going to get killed," Sammy interrupted me, and I bit my lip, knowing he was right about that. We were stranded here. I glanced at Dean again to see he had his eyes closed and was breathing shallowly. We were stranded here and Dean was dying.
Dean, Sam, and I ran to the hunter's cabin to hear a scream issue from inside. I glanced through the window to see the ghost had Molly tied up in the middle of the living room. Her hands were bound with a rope, and she hung from the ceiling by them while the farmer walked around her, slicing her skin with his nails.
"You two go get Molly," I nodded at Sam's order and knelt down to pick the lock to the door. In thirty seconds Dean and I were in the room behind the ghost. With a loud bang from Dean's shotgun, the ghost vanished into thin air.
"Oh, thank god," She whispered in relief.
"Call me Dean," I let out a small laugh at Dean's reply, but the laugh died when I saw Molly's terrified expression and heard the grunt behind us. I whipped around only to fly backwards as the farmer extended a hand at me. "Mel!" Dean's yell was followed by a groan as he hit the wall across from me, the gun clattering to the floor.
"Sam! Hurry up!" I screamed out to him as the farmer made a knife fly towards him before turning to Dean, who was on the ground and struggling against an invisible force.
"Dean!" I screamed as the farmer knelt beside him, holding the knife up to kill him. I took a deep breath and concentrated on him, trying to stop the knife from hitting Dean. Suddenly, the farmer froze, the knife inches from Dean's throat. He reared back and tried again, but the knife stopped at the same place, inches from his throat. Dean's eyes flicked back to me, but I kept mine trained on the knife. The harder the farmer pressed, the more strength it took to keep the knife from Dean's throat.
That's when the farmer let out a low, guttural noise and began stumbling backwards, pawing at his chest as if in pain. Sam had done it. I released my concentration on the knife and felt my whole body grow heavy and weak. I hadn't realized how much of my energy was being sapped until I barely had the power to lift my hand. The farmer screamed and vanished in a reddish orange blaze. Molly let out a shout as well as the blade embedded itself in the ground when the farmer dropped it. Whatever invisible restraints had been holding me disappeared, and I crumpled to the floor, feeling too weak to move.
"Mel? Mel!" Dean winced as he flipped me over and propped me against the wall, cradling my face between his hands. His face relaxed in relief as my eyes moved to look at him.
"Hey," I murmured in exhaustion. "You okay?"
"Yeah," He grinned slightly, his fingers running over my face and arms to check for any sign of injuries. "You look like hell," He muttered, his eyes worried, and I wasn't sure if he realized he'd said the words aloud.
"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep it light, but knowing my voice was too unsteady for that. "Still think Sammy's the weird one?" I questioned as I heard the door open and Sam race in.
"What you did wasn't weird, it was badass," Dean informed me, making me smile slightly as he pecked me on the lips.
"Is she okay?" Sam knelt beside us with a worried expression that mirrored Dean's.
"She's fine," Dean told him without tearing his eyes from mine. "I'm taking her to the car. You get Molly," Sam nodded hesitantly, glancing at me in concern for a moment before reluctantly rising and going over to Molly, who was watching Dean and I with guarded curiosity. I tried to stand only to find that I could barely move without beginning to tremble at the effort it took. Dean shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around me tightly, making me realize how cold I'd become. I let out a small noise of surprise as Dean lifted me into his arms and headed towards the door.
"Dean, I can walk," I protested weakly, but even to my ears my words sounded faint and hoarse. In response, Dean let out a small chuckle and shook his head.
"You wouldn't be saying that if you could see how you look right now," He informed me as I rested my head on his shoulder. How was he okay with what had happened? I'd stopped the knife from hitting him. I'd stopped it. I'd felt… I couldn't explain it. I'd felt powerful, for a moment. Now I felt so drained I couldn't even stand up by myself. Dean shifted me, so he could open the Impala door before laying me down gently in the passenger's seat. A moment later, he slid in next to me, and we waited for Sam and Molly to get back.
"I stopped it," I answered his unasked question. "I don't know how I did, but I concentrated on the knife, and I stopped it," A dark feeling twisted my stomach as I realized what this meant. I was fulfilling the demon's prophecy. I was becoming more of a psychic. "Dean, what if I…" I trailed off softly.
"Hey," I turned my head to see Dean's determined eyes as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "We're going to figure this out, okay? You saved my life. That's a far cry from becoming a monster," He had a point. Before I could reply, the back door opened to reveal Sam and Molly, who both got in. Something told me this part of the hunt was going to be more painful than everything else combined. Dean gunned the engine, and I rested my head on his shoulder as he drove away.
"Dean, hey," I tapped his cheek lightly again, making him jerk awake. He'd been nodding off more and more in the past half hour. I'd been here for an hour and a half and the thing still hadn't come back. We needed to get out of here or Dean wasn't going to make it. And he had to make it. "We have to call John," I finally decided.
"No," Dean instantly shook his head vehemently. I'd made the suggestion twice before, but Dean was too afraid of what John would think. This was the first time I could remember that he'd done something against John's wishes.
"Dean-" I protested, trying desperately to think of an alternative way out of this situation.
"No, I can't," He shook his head again. "Please, Mels," I glanced at Sammy, who looked just as caught as I was. We couldn't move him because that would risk displacing the tourniquet and him bleeding out. "I'm sorry," He whimpered so softly that I almost didn't hear him. I blinked up at him, trying to smile. He reached up a hand to brush away the tear that had escaped from my watery eyes but ended up smearing blood on my cheek instead. "I'm sorry," He apologized again, beginning to pull his hand away from my cheek, but I caught it in mine, turning to kiss his bloody palm.
"I love you," I whispered softly, trying to push back the sob that rose in my throat. "But you're an idiot," I added, wanting to see him smile. He did. A wide, tired smile that morphed into a laugh.
"Love you, too," He mumbled, drifting off again.
"Sammy," I glanced to the kid next to me. We'd been taking turns talking to Dean for the past hour and a half, trying to keep him awake. "Stay with him," I took my gun from Sammy and pulled out my phone, dialing 2 and holding it to my ear.
"Melody? Where the hell are you? I've been calling," John's gruff, furious voice answered the phone that Dean had forced me not to answer.
"We're in trouble," I confessed, glancing back at Dean, who was now groggily talking to Sammy. "It's bad,"
"Where?" John demanded.
"Just off of Alpeak Road. Mile marker twenty-seven. It's a cave about half a mile down the trail," I replied. "Hurry," I added and heard the line go dead. I snapped the phone shut and shoved it in my pocket before kneeling beside Dean.
"Mels," He greeted with a tired smile.
"Hey, how're you doing?" I questioned, my eyes dropping to his blood soaked pant leg. Dean gave me a thumbs up, making me smile slightly. "Good,"
"Mel," Dean's voice suddenly contained a more serious note, and his bravado smile faded. "I think you should take Sam and make a run for the car-"
"Forget it," I interrupted him, shaking my head. "I'm not going to leave you like this,"
"Dad's coming," I looked up with faint surprise. "I know you called him,"
"Dean, it's not her fault," Sam broke in, trying to take the blame off of me.
"Doesn't matter," He muttered tersely, shifting to try to get comfortable, but only ending up causing himself more pain. "I'll manage until he gets here. You two should split,"
"We aren't going anywhere," Sammy frowned seriously, and I felt a rush of pride for the kid. Dean let out a frustrated grunt, throwing his head back. The movement seemed to take too much effort because he slumped down again, breathing hard. I opened my mouth to say something else when there was an inhuman roar from the cave entrance. I nearly jumped out of my skin before spinning while shoving Sam behind me.
It didn't waste any time before attacking. I tried to get the gun up, but it was across the room in milliseconds. Iit's slimy, green hand grabbed my waist and hurled me clear across the cave. My back slammed into the wall painfully, driving the air from my lungs, and causing me to gasp and struggle to my feet. It reached for Sammy when suddenly there was a loud bang. Then another and another. The creature jerked thrice before falling to the ground, unmoving. I turned to the entrance to find John lowering his gun, his expression still furious.
"You're okay?" He threw the question at me as he lifted his son up and made for the cave entrance. I nodded, panting heavily as I grabbed the gun that had fallen from my grip. Then he was gone, and Sam quickly crossed the room to place a concerned hand on my shoulder.
"He should have never came on his own," I snapped, struggling to my feet, using the wall and Sammy as support. "What the hell was he thinking?"
"He did it for you," Sammy spoke in a soft voice that if I hadn't known any better, sounded almost… jealous. I rolled my eyes at the thought.
"What do you mean?" I asked as we made our way into the fresh air.
"He thought that if he killed the goblin, you'd stop blaming him for Clary's death," I just blinked at Sam as I finally regained my breath.
"He told you that?" That wasn't like Dean at all.
"No," Sam admitted sheepishly. "But I know Dean," I smiled slightly at the kid.
"When did you get so smart?" I questioned, straightening as he shrugged.
"Maybe you're just getting dumber," I rolled my eyes, taking a swing at him as he danced out of reach.
"Shut up, you cheeky little shit," I muttered fondly. Dean was okay, I was okay. Sammy was clearly okay. John's anger we could deal with. We were all okay. That was what was important.
"He's in that house right there," Sam's words woke me as Dean slowed the car to a stop in front of David's house. I lifted my head off of Dean's shoulder, making him shift slightly and pull me closer.
"I don't understand," Molly sounded confused as I swallowed hard, dreading what we'd have to explain to her.
"Come on," I pushed open the door to my right and rose shakily, still not fully energized but a lot better than I was before.
"You okay?" Dean questioned softly, and I nodded, smiling at the concern written so clearly on his features.
"Yeah," I answered, kissing him softly on the cheek before turning to look for Molly, who was running up the steps. "We should catch up," I realized, hurrying after the spirit.
"That's not…" She trailed off as she looked at David through the glass of the window. She frowned, taking a step towards the window before shaking her head. "It can't be," I glanced at Dean and then Sam before looking back at Molly, who was watching a black-haired woman come up to David and kiss him. "What's happening?" She turned back to us furiously, pointing at the window. "Who is that?" She demanded.
"She's David's wife," I told her sadly, watching her face break slightly. "I'm so sorry," I murmured, knowing the words wouldn't comfort her in the least.
"Fifteen years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greeley with your car. David survived," Sam told her what really happened that night.
"What are you saying?" Molly questioned, coming closer to us, and I could tell she was beginning to realize what we were saying.
"We're saying there isn't just one spirit haunting highway 41. There are two. Jonah Greeley and you," Dean informed her sadly.
"For the past fifteen years, one night each year you would appear on the highway," I added, and she shook her head, backing away from us.
"No. That's not possible," She muttered, denying what we were telling her. "It was our anniversary - February 22nd…"
"1992," Sam finished for her.
"Yes," She replied, fearing what we'd say next.
"Molly, I'm sorry, but it's 2007 now," I told her, watching as the woman seemed to shatter before my eyes.
"Oh, god," She whispered brokenly as she finally realized what had happened. "And Greeley?" She wanted to know.
"Each year he chases and tortures you to punish you for he and his wife's deaths," I murmured the words softly, wanting to comfort her, but knowing there was nothing I could say.
"But I don't remember any of it," She whispered sorrowfully, still trying to hold on to some hope that it was all a lie.
"Because you couldn't see the truth, Molly," Sam answered her.
"So that's why he won't let me off the highway," She realized, taking a shaky breath as she accepted what was happening. "Because… I killed him. I killed us both," She slowly sunk down to sit on the front steps of the house as the sun began to come up. "Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me? Why wait until now?"
"You wouldn't have believed us," Dean spoke the truth, and everyone knew it.
"And you needed me for bait," Molly grew slightly angry as she finished Dean's thought for him.
"Yeah," I answered, keeping as truthful as possible. "We needed you to stop the killings that were happening on that highway every year,"
"David," She whispered his name again.
"Molly, we brought you here so you could move on," Sam tried to reason with her, but she shook her head emphatically, the confusion in her eyes clearing.
"No. I have to tell him," She whispered, turning back to the house.
"What're you going to say?" I questioned, making her turn back. "That you love him? That you're sorry? Molly, he knows all of that. Trust me," I kept my eyes trained on her as I spoke.
"Look, if you want to go in there, we're not gonna stop you," Sam told her gently.
"Yeah, but you are gonna freak him right out," I nudged Dean harshly, causing him to give me a 'what' look. "For life," He added, making me glare at him.
"David's already said his goodbyes, Molly. Now it's your turn," Sam was only saying what Molly already knew. "This is your unfinished business,"
"What am I supposed to do?" She questioned, her voice cracking.
"You need to just… let go of him," Her eyes traveled to me as I spoke. "Then, we think, you'll move on," I glanced at Dean and Sam before looking back to Molly.
"But you don't know where," She pointed out in fear.
"No," Sam admitted. "But Molly, you don't belong here. Haven't you suffered long enough?" Molly let out a small sob, looking back at the house.
"What would you do?" Her eyes met mine as she asked the question. At first, I was surprised, but I understood when her eyes flicked to Dean. "What would you do if it was him?" I swallowed the lump in my throat that rose at the question she was making me answer.
"I would let go," I replied, relaxing. "I would let him go," I nodded into the house where a kid was now hugging David and laughing. "He's happy, Molly. He has a good life. You don't belong here anymore. You have to move on. It's time," She nodded, slowly walking a ways down the road as the sun began coming up. A soft, white glow began emanating from her chest, and it grew bigger and bigger until it engulfed her. When the light died down, she was gone.
"I guess she wasn't so bad…for a ghost," Dean commented, making me laugh lightly and lean back against him.
"We've met worse," I added, making both boys chuckle as Dean's arms wrapped around me securely.
"You think she's really going to a better place?" He questioned as we gazed at the sunrise coming up over the trees.
"I hope so," Sam answered, his voice gruff.
"I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?" I felt him shrug and frowned at the affect those words had on me.
"I don't think it matters. I think, maybe hope is the whole point," I mused, still gazing at where Molly had been standing a moment before.
"Alright, Haley Joel," I chuckled, leaning up to reply when he captured his lips with mine. He broke away, glancing at Sam, whose jaw had tightened at our public display of affection, before hitting the kid on the arm. "Come on. Let's hit the road,"