**Hey, so this one didn't take that long to write, but I hope you like it! Thank you to all the people that read this story; you guys are amazing! Please review! I love reading them, and they inspire me to write more. Thank you so much!**
Skin
"What exactly do you tell them, you know, about where you been, what you been doing?" Dean's voice filtered into my consciousness as I slowly woke. My back was leaning against the backdoor of the Impala, and my legs were stretched across the three seats. I raised my head from where it rested on the top of the seat and tried not to wince a slight ache shot through it.
"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my big brother and his girlfriend," Was Sam's defensive response. "I tell them I needed some time off after Jess," I reached into my bag and took out a piece of gum, popping it into my mouth as the brother's bickered.
"Well, so you lie to them," Dean simplified, a smug smile on his face. I just smiled and shook my head fondly at the two of them, taking out a brush and starting on my hair. I swear, I basically live in this car.
"No," Sam was denying. "I just don't tell them everything," I shoved the brush back in the bag before joining the conversation.
"Yeah, that would be called lying, Sam," He turned in his seat to shoot a pointed look at me.
"Hey, man, we get it. Telling them the truth is far worse," Dean sympathized, looking away from his brother.
"So what am I supposed to do just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam questioned bitterly. I looked down at the flip phone that was just visible in my bag. I still kept in touch with some people. Granted, most of them were hunters. Bobby, Dustin, Rush, Max, Ellen. And Jezebel. Jez wasn't a hunter. Of course, I could only see her once a year, and had a number to a cell that was just used for my calls. "You two are serious?" Sam asked incredulously, taking our silence and Dean's shrug as a definite yes.
"Look, it sucks, but, in a job like this, you can't get close to people. Period," Dean was just trying to protect him, and he was right. Sam couldn't afford to keep his friends at Stanford. It was too risky to him and them.
"You're both kind of antisocial. You know that?" Sam told us, and I reached over to punch him in the shoulder. "Ow!" He rubbed his arm but didn't look regretful about the statement. "My god," He muttered as he glanced back down at his blackberry.
"What?" Dean asked, leaning down to look through the window. I took my feet off the seat and scooted over to read the email over Sam's shoulder.
"This e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine," Sam explained, scrolling through the email. "I went to school with her and her brother, Zach. She says Zach's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case,"
"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?" Dean voiced my thoughts.
"No, man, I know Zach. He's no killer," Sam defended his college friend.
"Yeah?" I cut in, "Well, if you know Zach as well as he knows you…" I let that sentence hang.
"They're in St Louis. We're going," I sighed and pushed myself back to the door, throwing my legs over the seat again. St Louis was about five hours in the opposite direction from where we'd been heading.
"I'm sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem," Dean patronized him with a scoff. I just watched them, already knowing Sam would win the argument. He could be quite the stubborn kid when he wanted to be.
"It is our problem. They're my friends," Sam argued, and Dean shot me an exasperated, pleading look.
"Sam, St Louis is 400 miles behind us at least. It'll take us hours to get there, and we aren't even sure there's a case," I tried to reason logically with Sam, who just looked at me stubbornly and set his jaw. I met Dean's eyes and saw him give in with one last annoyed look. He returned the pump and got into the driver's seat, starting the car. I closed my eyes; it was going to be a long drive to St Louis.
"We should stop at the next motel," Dean finally announced when we were a couple minutes from Rebecca's house.
"No, we should go see her first," Sam insisted, and I glanced at him in disbelief.
"Sam, it's one in the morning. I don't think your friends going to like us if we wake her up," I pointed out, and Sam's unhappy huff told me I had won the argument. We pulled into a particularly run down motel, and Dean parked. I shoved two guns into my duffel before I swung it over my shoulder and headed after Sam and Dean towards the motel.
"Two rooms please," Dean asked the manager, a burly man with a thick neck and thick, ropey hands.
"Queen or twins?" The man questioned as I came to stand next to Dean.
"Queens," Dean gave him a slightly mocking smile as the man surveyed me.
"Yeah, I'll bet," I felt Dean's arm slip around my waist, and he gave the man a smile that held a hidden warning. He handed Sammy his room key first and then Dean ours. I took the key and unlocked the door, dumping my bag by the bed as soon as I got in. I turned, and Dean's lips found mine hungrily. Faintly, I heard the door slam shut; Dean must have kicked it with his foot. I pushed Dean's jacket off his shoulders, and he did the rest while I wrapped my arms around his neck. Our lips parted momentarily as the shirt passed over his head and was thrown to the side. Mine followed a second later. Dean's lips moved to my neck, and I let out a moan of pleasure. My fingers nimbly undid his belt.
-SPN-
The door opened to reveal a young woman with blonde hair and green eyes that were filled with sorrow. Her eyes brightened as they landed on Sam, not bothering to look at Dean or me.
"Oh, my god, Sam!" She gave a half laugh and smiled widely at him, still ignoring Dean and I.
"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam smiled back, clearly as happy to see her as she was to see him.
"You know what you can do with that 'Little Becky' crap," Rebecca told him, giving him a mock glare but smiling through it. They both laughed and hugged.
"I got your email," Sam told her, getting more to the point of our visit.
"I didn't think you would come here," Rebecca confessed, finally looking past Sam to Dean and me.
"I'm Mel," I held out my hand to her, smiling, "This my boyfriend, Dean, Sammy's older brother," I introduced, glancing at Sammy, who gave me a stern look when I used the nickname.
"Hi," She shook our hands, smiling unsurely.
"We're here to help," Sam spoke sincerely. "Anything we can do,"
"Come in," She let us into the relatively big house, and we followed her to the kitchen.
"Nice place," Dean commented, and I couldn't help but agree.
"It's my parents," Rebecca explained. "I was just crashing here for the long weekend. When everything happened I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zach's free,"
"Where are your folks?" Sam inquired, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," She responded, going to the fridge. "Do you guys want a beer or something?" She offered.
"Hey," Dean pointed at her and grinned like a boy on christmas morning.
"No, thanks," Sam answered for the three of us, giving Dean a pointed look. "So… tell us what happened," Sam prompted, going back to why we were here.
"Well, um, Zach had came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. She was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing, and so he called 911," Her voice started breaking, and she paused for a moment before going on, "And the police, they showed up, and they arrested him. But the thing is, the only way that Zach could have killed Emily was if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street, and it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear he was here with me having a few beers until at least after midnight,"
"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene - Zach's house?" Sam offered.
"We could?" Dean echoed in surprise, glancing at Sam. I was starting to feel like maybe this was our kind of thing after all. Two places at once? It did have a certain supernatural ring to it.
"Why? What good could you do?" Becky asked dejectedly.
"Well, me, not much, but Dean and Mel are cops," I glared at Sam, but quickly smiled when Becky turned to me and Dean.
"Detectives really," I told her with another smile. I was going to kill Sam.
"Really? Where?" Becky questioned, tears still brimming in her eyes.
"Bisbee, Arizona," Dean answered before I could speak. "But we're off duty now,"
"Don't they have a rule against dating other detectives?" Becky asked, looking curious. She watches too much TV.
"He works narcotics," I covered as Dean opened and closed his mouth trying to find something to say, "I'm homicide, but we'd be happy to take a look at the crime scene for you. Maybe find something the cops missed?"
"Oh," She turned back to Sam and then glanced uncertainly at us. "I don't know. You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just - I don't know,"
"Beck, look. I know Zach didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent," Sam spoke to her earnestly. She looked back and forth between the three of us for a long moment before sighing.
"Okay," She conceded. "I'm gonna go get the keys," As soon as she was out of earshot Dean let out a long whistle and turned to face Sammy.
"Oh, yeah, you're a real straight shooter with your friends," Sarcasm lined Dean's words.
"Look, Zach and Becky need our help," Sam reasoned.
"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean shrugged, trying to make Sam see that this wasn't worth our time.
"I think it may be," I disagreed and both boys turned to look at me, "I mean, two places at once? It sounds like our kind of thing,"
"Exactly," Sam agreed with me, turning back to his brother, "Come on,"
"We've looked into less," I added, meeting his eyes, and trying to convey how confident I was that this was a case. Dean just raised both eyebrows and shrugged in defeat. Becky came back, and we took the Impala to Zach's house with Sam and Becky riding in the back. Dean parked on the side of the road, and we all got out.
"Are you sure this is okay?" Becky asked uncertainly.
"We are officers of the law," Dean told her, glancing at me with a wink. I grinned as I followed him to the house, ignoring the strange looks from the occasional passerby as Becky unlocked the door of a crime scene. The door swung open, revealing a bloody mess inside. Dean, Sam, and I went in first, but Sam hung back to talk to Becky.
"Boyfriend, huh?" It took me a moment to register what Dean was talking about. When we'd gotten to Becky's, I'd introduced him as my boyfriend. We had never really talked about what we were. I mean, of course, I hadn't been with anybody since our relationship started, but, for the first time, I doubted if it was a relationship at all.
"Dean," I looked up into his all too serious eyes. "I'm not going to be just another girl in your string of one night stands, so, if you don't want to-"
"Who said I don't want to?" He interrupted me, and I glanced away briefly before opening my mouth to reply.
"Guys?" Sam cut in firmly. My gaze shifted to his for a moment before I walked over to stand by him.
"Well… there was no sign of a break-in," Becky was saying. "They say that Emily let her attacker in, and the lawyers are already talking about a plea bargain," My eyes flitted around the room, taking in the blood spatters that covered most of the once white room. "Oh, god,"
"Look, Beck…" Sam trailed off as Becky sniffled. "If Zach didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"
"Um, there was something," Becky suddenly remembered. "About a week before, somebody broke in here, and they stole some clothes - Zach's clothes. And the police - they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. I mean, sometimes people get robbed," I was drawn to the window as I heard the angry barking of the neighbors dog in the yard over.
"You know," I jumped slightly as Becky's voice behind me caught me by surprise. "That used to be the sweetest dog,"
"What happened?" I questioned, a bad feeling twisting my stomach.
"He just changed," She told me.
"Do you remember when he changed?" Dean asked as he joined us on my left.
"I guess around the time of the murder," She answered, and I walked around her, heading towards Sam, who was staring at a photo that was taped to the fridge. The photo was of Zach, Becky, and him. They looked so full of happiness it made my heart ache.
"Around the time of Zach's supposed kill, the neighbors dog starts going mad," I informed Sammy, who barely spared me a glance, he was so focused on the picture. "Sam," I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to snap him out of it.
"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Dean came up behind me as Sam spoke, and I dropped my hand from Sam's shoulder.
"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something," Dean grinned at the two of us, and I smiled back, knowing what his words meant.
"So you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" Sam voiced it, causing me to smile wider. "No. Probably not," Dean denied immediately, "But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure," He quickly added.
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
"Yeah," Dean echoed, turning to face Becky, who was walking towards us. "So the tape - the, uh, security footage? Think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it? See, we just don't have that kind of jurisdiction,"
"I've already got it," Becky admitted, looking guiltily at Sam, "I didn't want to say something in front of two cops. I, um, I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself,"
"All right, then," We headed back to Becky's house to review the footage. I sat in the front again, but the almost palpable tension between Dean and I made me wish I'd sat in the back. Becky led us back into her house and put on the security footage while we all sat around to watch.
"Here he comes," She told us, and I payed closer attention to the figure getting out of the car. I was sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the TV while Becky sat on the floor by my feet. Dean sat on the arm of my chair while Sam stood a short distance away from us to my left.
"22:04, that's just after 10," Dean analyzed, "You said time of death was about 10:30," Becky nodded in response.
"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with," She informed us.
"Hey, Beck, can we take those beers now?" Sam asked her, and she rose off the floor nodding.
"Yeah, sure," She walked to the doorway.
"Hey, uh, maybe some sandwiches too," I shot a glare at Sammy for his sexist comment, but Becky just laughed.
"What do you think this is, Hooters?" She asked sarcastically as I rose from the chair.
"I wish," Dean muttered, earning himself a light smack in the back of the head from me. He just gave me a sheepish smile, rubbing his head ruefully.
"So, what is it?" I turned my attention to Sam, going over to stand by him.
"Check this out," He clicked the rewind button on the remote before pausing it. He played it in slow motion for a few frames, and Zach's face flashed across the camera. His eyes were glowing.
"Maybe it's just a camera flare," Dean suggested, sounding as though he really didn't believe that.
"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul. Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zach's. Something that looks like him but isn't him,"
"Like a Doppleganger," Dean offered.
"Yeah, that would explain how he was in two places at once," I nodded as I spoke, glancing at Sammy.
We took the beers and some sandwiches and headed back to the motel to research and sleep. Mostly research as it turned out. I glanced at the clock to see it was one in the morning. My blurry eyes scanned the room to rest on Sam's sleeping form on the still made bed. They then flicked to Dean, who was nodding off on the couch but doing his best to stay awake. I set the old articles that I had been searching through down on the table and rose from the chair. Dean made a slight noise of protest as I slid the book from his hand and put it on the coffee table beside him.
"You need to sleep," I told him firmly. "You look exhausted,"
"You're not," He looked up at me with heavy eyes and tousled hair, making him look adorable.
"What?" I tried to ignore how my heart sped up when I looked at him and how it got harder to think when he was there.
"You're not just another girl in my string of one night stands," Understanding dawned on me, and I turned away, my eye catching the beer bottles on the table.
"Dean, we can talk about this later," When your not half drunk and falling asleep.
"No," He sounded a bit annoyed, "I want to be your boyfriend. I do," I took the half drunk beer from his hand and set that on the table next to the four empty bottles. Dean drank when he was trying to stay awake, or when he was trying to drown out worry or pain.
"Okay," Was all I said as I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down onto the couch. I just watched him with concern in my gaze as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. I stood, gathering the bottles and tossing them before curling up in the chair by the window and resting my head against the wall.
"Mel!" My eyes shot open, and I was breathing heavily, staring wide eyed at Dean and gripping his wrists tightly. I looked around the room, not knowing where I was for a moment before remembering everything. We were helping Sam's friend. "Nightmare?" I frowned as I tried to remember, but it was blank. I just shook my head, my heart still pounding painfully hard in my chest as adrenaline coursed through my body.
"I'm okay," I told him, looking to my right only to see a concerned Sammy standing at his shoulder.
"Are you sure?" Dean asked uncertainly, worry still lining his voice with a tinge of fear.
"Yeah," I assured them, standing. "I'm going to change and then we can go," I continued brusquely, not wanting to dwell on the nightmare I couldn't remember. I changed into blue jeans, a dark blue tank top, and a black jacket before brushing my teeth quickly, slipping on my boots and joining the boys at the car. The drive took about twenty minutes with the coffee stop, and Dean parked in back of the house. Sam, apparently, wanted to look for clues outside the house in case he escaped out the back. It was a good idea, but it could've definitely waited until ten, not five.
"All right," Dean spoke as we got out of the car. "So, what are we doing here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean asked, laying a bitter emphasis on 'five thirty in the morning'.
"I realized something," I came to stand beside Dean, warming my hands with the to-go coffee cup I held between them. "The videotape shows the killer going in but not coming out,"
"So, he came out the back door?" Dean inquired, taking a sip of coffee as Sam headed towards the house.
"Right, so there should be a trail to follow - a trail the police would never pursue," Sam told us logically. I took a gulp of my coffee, and felt immediately better.
"Because Zach would have stayed in the house," I filled in the missing pieces.
"I still don't know what we're doing here at 5:30 in the morning," I let out a small laugh at Dean's grumble, taking some more of my coffee. Suddenly, I grew aware of the tension between Dean and I.
"I should go help Sammy look-" I began, pushing off the car, when Dean caught my arm.
"Mels, about what I said last night," He trailed off awkwardly. I had learned a long, long time ago that Dean wasn't the best at expressing the way he felt. In fact, Winchesters in general weren't the best at expressing the way they felt.
"It's fine, Dean. Forget it," I quickly spoke to fill the silence, turning again with a heavy heart. Dean Winchester had one longterm girlfriend in his entire life and that had been me in high school. It was nine years later. Nine years of one night stands and two week girlfriends. I had been stupid to think that I could change him.
"I meant it, Mels," I froze, turning back to him in surprise. "Would you, Melody Scott, like to go on a date with me?" He grinned cockily at me, making me smile.
"I'd love to, Dean Winchester," His grin turned slightly relived, as if there was any way I'd say no. He leaned down to kiss me when Sammy's voice interrupted us.
"Guys, I found something!" Dean swore under his breath, and I laughed softly. We turned to Sammy, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face. "Blood," Sammy stated, nodding his head towards the post. "Somebody came this way,"
"Maybe the trail ends. I don't see anything over here," Dean informed him. Just then, a siren went by, wailing loudly, and, with it, came a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Let's follow it," I straightened, opening the passenger door and getting in while Sam ran across the street to get into the back. The drive was a short two minutes, and we parked across the street, walking over just as they were setting up the crime scene, yellow tape.
"What happened?" Dean asked the jogger, who was watching with her arms folded across her chest.
"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," The jogger explained.
"Really?" Sam asked thoughtfully with a hint of an 'I told you so' in his voice.
"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," The jogger shrugged and started an even pace again down the sidewalk.
"I'll go check the back with Sam. You talk to the cops, try to find out more," I took the lead, and went around to the back of the house with Sammy following. We found a trail of blood, but it died in the first couple of feet, leaving us to search the surrounding area hopefully.
"What was it about?" Sam asked as we searched for clues.
"What was what about?" I returned his question with a question after a moment.
"Your nightmare," I looked away.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully, and Sam scoffed. "It's the truth, Sammy. I swear. I can't remember," He studied me for a moment before turning glancing under the lids of each of the trash cans.
"You were pretty freaked out," He told me, doing a double take on the last trash can.
"Find anything?" I changed the subject, and he looked startled, his face going slightly red.
"Nope, nothing," He let the lid slam shut again. Oh. I couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping my lips.
"Hey," We turned to find Dean coming up to us. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?" Dean asked, and Sam and I nodded. "Definitely our kind of problem."
"What'd you find out?" Sam questioned him.
"I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene," Dean explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "He heard this guy Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."
"That means he was two places at once," I realized.
"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house. Police think he's a nut job," Dean finished, grinning.
"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam pondered allowed.
"Could be the same thing doing it too," Dean suggested.
"Shapeshifter," It wasn't a question, but the two boys nodded in agreement anyway.
"Right, something that can make itself look like anyone," Sammy's grin widened.
"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore - legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men," Dean added.
"Yeah, skinwalkers. Werewolves," I listed.
"We got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we got a shapeshifter problem in the neighborhood," Dean summed up.
"Let me ask you this," Sammy started, his brow furrowing in confusion. "In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"
"Not that I know of, why?" Dean responded, following Sam and I as we turned and walked towards where we'd found the trail.
"We picked up a trail here," Sam started, pointing to the wall. "Someone climbed out the window and headed off this way,"
"Just like Zach's house," Dean added.
"Yeah," I agreed. "And, just like Zach's house, the trail suddenly dies. Like it just disappeared,"
"Well, there's another way to go," Dean looked away, thinking for a moment before looking back at us. "Down," My eyes dropped to the road and zeroed in on the sewer grate by Sam's foot. Trying not to be too noticeable, Sam and Dean lifted the grate and all three of us descended the ladder into the dark, dank tunnel. Sam, who descended last, replaced the grate over the entrance as Dean and I explored the tunnel a bit.
"I bet this runs right by Zach's house too," Sam noted when he reached the bottom and turned to follow me and Dean. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," My eyes adjusted to the dark and landed on a foul looking pile of pink goo.
"I think you're right," Dean knelt by the pile, flicking out his blade. "Look at this," I covered my mouth and nose with my hand, looking away from the oozing goo as Dean lifted it up with his knife.
"Is this from his victims?" Sam questioned while trying not to gag. All three of us had strong stomachs, but this tested our limits. Then a thought so unpleasant crossed my mind that I almost puked right there.
"Guys? I just had a sickening thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, what if it sheds?" I spoke, trying not to breathe through my nose. Dean flung the goo off of his blade quickly.
"That is sick," Sam agreed disgustedly. "Let's go back to the car. We're sitting ducks down here without weapons," We headed back up and to the car. Dean popped the trunk open, handing me a gun and getting one for himself.
"Well, one thing I learned from Dad is no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it," Dean told us.
"Silver bullet to the heart," I finished. Whatever is said about John, he sure knows how to teach a hunter.
"That's right," Dean grinned at me as I loaded the gun. Sam's phone rang, and he checked it before picking it up quickly.
"This is Sam," He answered.
Where are you? I heard Becky's voice on the other line.
"It's Rebecca," I informed Dean, who glanced at me in surprise for a moment before looking over at Sam.
"We're near Zach's. We're just checking some things out," Sam replied easily.
Well, look, Sam, just stop, because I really don't need your help anymore.
"She sounds pretty upset," I frowned, listening to what they were saying.
"Does she know we're not cops?" Dean questioned. I had missed Sam's response, so I closed my eyes and focused on Becky's.
I told the lawyers that we went to the crime scene.
"She told the lawyers we went to the crime scene," I repeated in a low voice for Dean.
"Why would you do that?" Sam sounded annoyed.
I told them that we were with a police officer, and they checked it out, and they told me that there is no detective Dean Winchester or anyone by the name of Mel.
"She know that we aren't cops," I muttered with a sigh of annoyance, turning to face Dean, not bothering to hear the rest of the conversation. Dean was looking at me with an unreadable expressing that made me uneasy. "What?"
"Nothing. You're getting good at that," He sounded almost worried about that fact. Dean had gotten better about the hearing thing, less freaked. He was barely freaked at all anymore, which was an immense relief. I frowned at his worry, braiding my hair and tying it with one of the many hair ties I insisted on keeping in the trunk. I glanced at where Sammy was still talking on the phone with a frown.
"I have it, figure I might as well use it, right?" I reasoned, trying to hide how much his uncertainty about my powers hurt me. John had known something about it. He and my father. My father had known about my abilities… or that I would get abilities… when I was eighteen. Four years and a half before I started with the hearing.
"I hate to say it," Dean spoke up, slamming the trunk and walking over to Sam, "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you they'd be freaked. It's just- it'd be easier-"
"If I was like you or Mel," Sam finished flatly, looking dejected.
"Hey, man, like it or not, we aren't like other people," Dean told him as I came to stand by him and look at Sammy sadly. "But, I'll tell you one thing - this whole gig…" He grabbed a gun, holding it out to his brother. "It ain't without perks," I grabbed a flashlight before shoving the barrel of the pistol into the my jeans, keeping my jacket covering it.
It was silent in the tunnels except for the occasional dripping of water which echoed loudly throughout the sewer. I walked in between Sam and Dean, keeping my gun pointed at the ground and my finger off the trigger. Dean shone the flashlight everywhere at once, illuminating the dark, eerie looking tunnel. I stepped carefully over a puddle of dark liquid that smelled of rotten eggs and made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I tried to hear something, anything, but it was all silent. Whatever this thing was, it moved quietly. There was a slight clang behind us, and we whirled around, letting Sammy take the lead and moving in the opposite direction.
"I think we're close to it's lair," Dean commented, shining his beam on the pipe next to Sammy's head where another glob of melted skin was.
"Why do you say that?" Sam questioned, honestly confused as he held the gun pointed in front of him.
"Look to your right," I told him, and he glanced to his right, quickly jerking away from the goo.
"Oh, god," He wiped off his fingers that had brushed the goo onto his jacket.
"Well, looks like he's lived here for a while." Dean noted, glancing down.
"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam muttered, and I turned when I heard a slight scuffle, figuring it was a rat or something. My flashlight beam landed on a asian face with silver eyes.
"Dean!" I cried out a warning, and Dean spun around quickly but not quickly enough. The thing hit him, sending him into the wall with an all too audible crunch. I fired once and Sam got out two bullets before the thing was completely out of sight. "Are you all right?" Dean turned to us, holding his shoulder while looking unbelievably pissed off, and I knew he'd be fine.
"Get the son of a bitch," He growled, and I ran past him after the monster. The drain was already open when I reached the top of the ladder, and I stood in the middle of a park, hearing panting coming from our right. I helped Dean out as he groaned in pain and anger.
"All right," Sam spoke up after a moment of silence. "Let's split up," I nodded, brushing past him to take the right, where I'd heard the panting.
"I'll meet you two on the other side," Dean instructed. Sam took the middle, I was on the right, and Dean the left. I kept the gun out of sight, tucked into the waistband of my jeans. It took about thirty minutes to do a full sweep, and I reached the corner of Washington having nothing to show for my time.
"Sam?" The figure turned, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Sam. "Did you find anything?" He shook his head, pacing slightly.
"Hey," Dean's voice interrupted us before Sam could reply. He held his arms out in an annoyed gesture. "Anything?"
"No, he's gone," Sam answered, and I shook my head in agreement with Sam.
"Nothing," Dean sighed in anger, looking at me with an unusual expression, an almost hungry expression. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze while he looked me up and down before tearing his gaze away.
"All right. Let's get back to the car," Sam and I crossed the road quickly, but Dean was stopped by a car that beeped loudly at him.
"Sam, I don't think that's Dean," I whispered urgently, never breaking stride.
"What are you talking about? Of course it's him, unless…" The realization hit Sam, and his eyes widened fractionally. "Oh,"
"Yeah," Dean caught up to us, and the conversation ended abruptly.
"You think he found a way underground?" Sam asked as he walked in between Dean and I.
"Probably," Dean answered. "You got the keys?" Sam's eyes flew to mine, and I gave him a pointed look before he fished the keys out of his pocket.
"Hey, didn't dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Sam inquired like he was trying to remember.
"That was Austin. And it turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was a thought-form - a psychic projection. Remember?" Dean grinned at us, but something was off about his grin. It was different. And no way would Dean volunteer all that information. Sammy was the know-it-all. Not Dean.
"Oh. Right," Sam glanced at me, grinning easily. "Here you go," He tossed 'Dean' the keys, and 'Dean' caught it, giving me another look before letting out a chuckle and shaking his head. Sam went around to the other side of the car as I slipped my gun out of my jeans and cocked it.
"Don't move!" Sam yelled, and we both pointed our guns at him, trapping the shifter.
"What did you do to him?" I snapped angrily. He hadn't killed any of the others he'd shifted into, so Dean was probably alive, right?
"Come on, chill, it's me, all right?" He looked into my eyes, but his eyes were different. Something about the way they made me feel was different then Dean's eyes.
"No, I don't think so. Where's my brother?" Sam snarled at him, keeping the gun aimed at his chest.
"You're about to shoot him," The shifter tried to reason with us, and I almost pulled the trigger. I couldn't. I needed the shifter to find the real Dean. "Sam, calm down," He turned his head to me, "Mel, come on, you know me,"
"No, I don't. Where's Dean?" I kept my voice deadly calm, refusing to give the monster the satisfaction of seeing my worry.
"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," That was clever, Sammy.
"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" The shifter was starting to sound more like Dean by the second.
"You're not my brother," Sam sounded sure of himself now.
"Why don't one of you pull the trigger, then, hmm?" The shifter questioned us, and I hesitated. "Because neither of you are sure. Come on," He looked back and forth between Sam and me. "You know me,"
"Stop it," I told it, trying my best to keep my voice low and dangerous. He moved faster than I would've thought possible and Sam went down. I pulled the trigger just as he grabbed the barrel of the gun and turned it away from him. He hissed in pain, wrenching the gun from my hand with an inhumane strength, and fisted his hand in my hair, slamming my head against a hard metal surface. I sunk into darkness.
A blinding pain in my head woke me, and the pulsing only worsened the more awake I became. I messaged my temples, which worked to dull the pain to at least a bearable amount. I surveyed the place I was in. It was dark, but my eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. There was a rope wrapped around my neck and stomach, pinning my arms by my sides, and ensuring I couldn't move. A cold metal was on my back, and I figured he must've tied me to a pole or something. I looked to my right to see Sam tied up on a pole similar to mine. Except they weren't poles, they were thick beams.
"Sam," I hissed, not wanting to attract the monster but needing to know Sam was alright. "Sam," I hissed again more urgently. He stirred, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I searched for Dean, but he was nowhere to be found. Panic rose in me, but I stifled it with effort. There were footsteps coming, and I glanced up to see the shifter, still wearing Dean's body, come in carrying a coil of rope. He walked up to Sammy, conflicted emotions running across his face before his face grew dark and he backhanded Sammy hard, making Sammy's face snap sideways.
"Sam!" I yelled before I could stop myself. The shifter's eyes focused on me, and he tilted his head, regarding me like a science experiment. More emotions crossed his face as he knelt beside me, and then he smirked widely. "What did you do with him?" I met his green eyes unflinchingly. "Where is Dean?" I annunciated clearly, needing to know that Dean was alright.
"I wouldn't worry about him," The shifter straightened, looking back and forth between Sam and I. "I'd worry about you,"
"Where is he?" Sam echoed my earlier question.
"Neither of you really want to know," The shifter told us before smirking. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family… " He trailed off, shaking his head, but focusing on Sam now. I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my brain for a way to get out of this. "I thought I came from a bad background,"
"What do you mean learn?" Sam kept him busy by talking while I tried to reach for the knife in my back pocket. The shifter put a hand to his temple and winced in pain. He was downloading Dean. Like a freaking computer. The temporary headache passed, and he put his fist to his closed lips before looking back at Sam, "He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home." Almost got it. Yes. The knife was in my hand. I flicked it open as quietly as I could. It had been a birthday present from Dean actually. Way back when we had dated in high school. Junior year.
"I mean I had to stay home - with dad," The 'I' caused me to fix him with a heated glare. I moved the knife back and forth, ignoring the pain that exploded in my wrist as the metal from the beam chafed me. "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"
"Where is my brother?" Sam asked steadily, trying half successfully to keep the tremors out of his voice.
"I'm your brother," The shifter leaned over him intimidatingly. "See, deep down…I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me, I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later everybody's gonna leave me," My hands froze their work when he said that. I shook my head and focused on working, trying to block out the urge to comfort him. It was still Dean's voice. It still looked like him. It was still painful.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, frowning at the monster.
"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. no explanation. Nothing. Just - poof. Left me with your sorry ass," He turned his attention to me, and his expression changed drastically. "And Mel. Look at her, Sammy." I stopped moving, knowing it would be too obvious if I did. I still had the advantage of surprise. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" He let out a sad, mocking laugh that nearly broke my heart. "You think I don't know that she's too good for me? You'll leave me too, one day. That's what really scares me. It's not all of the monsters and the nightmares in all of this. It's that one day I'll wake up, and you won't be there anymore,"
"You." I put emphasis into every word, fighting the emotion that was rising in me. "Are. Not. Dean." The shifter walked towards me, kneeling next to me again, and I drew my knees to my chest, ready to kick him if I needed to.
"But I am," He disagreed, "He loves you, you know. I love you, I mean," He suddenly sucked in a breath, putting a hand to his head in pain as a fresh wave of memories flooded in. I sawed through more of the rope but quickly stopped when he turned back to me. "And all those woman - all those one night stands - were just to forget about you. Because you left me, Mel, in high school. No explanation - just ended things. Who's to say you won't do it again?" He let out another pained, humorless laugh. "Oh, I don't think I would survive it if you did it again," His voice was rough with emotion, and he put a hand to my throat, forcing my head up with his thumb to look at him.
"Where. Is. Dean?" I got out between clenched teeth, glaring at him fiercely.
"I am Dean, sweetheart," And then his lips slammed against mine forcibly, and I pressed my lips together in a hard line. Two of his fingers found the pressure points below my ears, forcing my lips apart. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I squirmed, trying desperately to get him off.
"You son of a bitch!" I heard Sam shout, fury in his voice. I tossed my head to the side roughly, breaking our lips apart and leaving me gasping for breath. I felt his cold, wet tongue sliding along my jaw before trailing kisses down my neck. One of his knees was pressed on my legs, pinning them to the ground, and that's when I heard the ripping sound. My shirt. My mind registered the horror on Sammy's face, the helplessness, the pain, and white hot rage, and then, the rope snapped. I plunged the switchblade I'd been using into the monster's gut, and it howled in pain, stumbling back before jerking the knife out of it's stomach. It healed immediately and turned a glare on me. My neck was still tied to the beam, restricting my movement, and I pulled on it with all my might. The monster retied my arms to the beam and stowed the knife in his pocket before grinning horridly and wiping his mouth.
"This life, it's not without perks, huh?" He fixed me with his hard green eyes before turning to Sammy, who I saw, to my surprise, was actually shaking in anger. Of course, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't trembling like a leaf. I was going to kill that mother fucking bastard. My shirt was ripped down to the middle of my stomach, exposing most of my black bra. "I meet the nicest people," The thing continued, glancing at me. "Like Little Becky. You know, if Dean wasn't with Mel, he'd bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens," He threw the tarp over Sam before coming over to me and scoffing. "This is for stabbing me," He told me, and the last thing I saw was his fist rushing towards my face.
-3rd person-
"Dean?" Sam called to his brother, his voice still shaking slightly, and he glanced back over at the still tarp that covered Mel. He wasn't even sure if she was alive under there, but he couldn't think of that. Instead, he focused on the cough he had heard from behind him.
"That'd better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's pissed off voice sounded, and Sammy slumped slightly in relief at hearing it. If Dean was pissed now… Sam glanced over at Mel worriedly.
"Yeah, it's me," Sam answered. "He went over to Becky's looking like you,"
"Well, he's not stupid," Dean called back. "He picked the handsome one," Sam frowned, swallowing hard and didn't reply. "Mel's okay?" Dean asked, confident that she would be. Sam didn't reply, a lump forming in his throat along with the panic. "Sam! Is Mel all right?" Dean demanded.
"I don't know," Sam finally responded truthfully. "He knocked her out. She stabbed him,"
"Damn it," Dean worked furiously to get out of his bonds. "What so he just walked out of here looking like me?"
"Yeah, that's the thing," Sam filled him in, struggling to get loose. "He didn't just look like you. He was you." Dean's ropes snapped. "Or he was becoming you," Dean pushed off the rope.
"What do you mean?" He asked, growing angrier by the second.
"I don't know, it's like he was downloading your thoughts and memories," Sammy tried to explain.
"You mean like a Vulcan mind-meld?" Dean struggled with the last two ropes, finally succeeding in pushing them off.
"Yeah, something like that. I mean, maybe that's why he didn't just kill us," Sam theorized.
"Maybe he needs to keep us alive - a psychic connection," He came up beside Sam, unable to keep the worry at bay any longer. "Where is she?" Sam jerked his chin over to the other tarp.
"Over there," Dean hurried to the other one and drew back the tarp, and then everything was silent for a moment.
"What the hell did he-" Dean's voice choked in rage as he started seeing red. There was a groan, and Mel shifted. Dean untied her ropes and caught her as she slumped into him, laying her gently on the ground. "I'm gonna kill him," Dean stated with such fury in his voice that Sam was actually scared for a moment.
Reluctantly, Dean left her side to untie Sam quickly before returning. She groaned again, a hand going to her head as she felt hands on her face. Her eyes fluttered open before widening with sudden terror as they landed on Dean. She may as well have knifed him in the chest. She let out a scream, scrambling back and grabbing for a weapon before Sam lunged forward and caught her wrists tightly.
"It's him. It's him," Mel's eyes focused on Sam before sliding past him to Dean. This time, she actually studied him, met his eyes, the worry, the hidden fear. He came towards her slowly with his hands raised in surrender like she was a wild animal that he was approaching.
"It's me. Okay? That son of a bitch is never gonna touch you again-" He was cut off when Mel flew past Sam and flung her arms around Dean's neck, breathing him in, and trying to get herself under control. After a few moments, she pulled away, breathing unsteadily as she rose to her feet with Dean's help.
"H-he's probably at Rebecca's already," She swallowed hard and regained control, zipping up her jacket so no one could see the bra underneath. "We should hurry,"
-Mel-
The three of us went through tunnel after tunnel until we finally found one that led upwards. Sammy led, I was next, and Dean followed me. I was done feeling scared of the thing that almost… I was done. It was going to die. That was it. End of story. Sammy kicked the metal grate open, and it clattered to the ground loudly, making me wince at the noise. Someone probably heard that.
"Come on. We got to call the police," Sam spoke urgently, pulling me out of hole, and then we helped Dean out.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're gonna put an APB out on me?" Dean asked incredulously.
"He's right, Sam. We can't do that," I glanced up and down the alley we were in. "We'll call in an anonymous tip,"
"Smart. This way," Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him. We jogged to the end of the street and hurried to the nearest pay phone. Dean called it in and then hung up the phone before the woman could start asking any personal questions. He turned to us, stepping out of the booth. "What do we do now?"
"We wait," I answered. The waiting only took half an hour before all the TVs in the window of the TV shop we were outside of turned to the same channel. Channel 6 news.
"An anonymous tip led police to a home in the central west end where a S.W.A.T. team discovered a local woman bound and gagged," A roughly drawn sketch of Dean appeared on the screen in the upper left hand corner. "Her attacker, a white male approximately 24 to 30 years of age was discovered hiding in the home. Shots were fired, and the police are saying…" The anchor droned on.
"Man, that's not even a good picture," Sam and I were busy glancing around to see if anybody was looking at us.
"It's good enough," Sam replied, looking warily at every passerby.
"Come on, we should get away from the screens," I suggested, grabbing Dean's arm and pulling him along behind me. Dean stepped in a puddle, which led to more complaining.
"They said attempted murder, at least we know - " Sam tried to be optimistic.
"I didn't kill her," Dean snapped.
"I'll check with Rebecca in the morning to see if she's all right," Sam told us.
"Do you really think she'll want to see you?" I questioned, not trying to be harsh.
"Either way, first I want to find that devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean growled, and that actually scared me a bit.
"You have no weapons, Dean," I reminded him, worried that he would do something stupid. "No silver bullets," Dean stopped and turned to look at me stormily, and then his eyes flicked to Sam briefly and back to me before continuing to walk.
"The guy's walking around with my face, okay, it's a little personal. I wanna find him," Dean spat out bitterly.
"Okay," Sam agreed, and I glanced at him in shock before finally conceding. "Where do we start?"
"We could start in the sewers," Dean answered.
"We have no weapons," I reminded them again. "He stole our stuff, remember? Where are we going to find silver ammo in this town?"
"The car?" Sam suggested, and I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking for a moment.
"I'm betting he drove over to Rebecca's," Dean added.
"But the news said he fled on foot, which means the car is still there," Dean's eyes brightened for a moment before they darkened considerably.
"The thought of him driving my car," His voice held anger again as he glanced at me. It took us about fifteen minutes to get to Rebecca's, and we'd been walking pretty fast. "Ah, there she is," Dean's voice held relief as we rounded the corner and faced the Impala. "Finally, something went right tonight," Suddenly, sirens filled the air followed by the screeching of tires. "Aw, crap," Dean muttered, instinctively grabbing my hand and pulling me back the we'd come. Another police car blocked that exit. Of course they would have patrol on the car. "This way! This way!" Dean and I ran towards the wooden fence.
"You two go. I'll hold them off," I hesitated, unwilling to leave him there to get detained.
"What're you talking about? They'll catch you," Dean protested, and Sam's eyes met mine.
"They can't hold him. They'll release him within twenty-four hours," I pushed Dean towards the fence. "Meet me at Rebecca's," Sam told us, holding his hands up in surrender. Dean went over the fence first, and then I turned back to look at Sam one last time. "Don't let him do anything stupid," Without responding, I kicked off a trashcan and followed Dean over the edge. Dean caught me easily, steadying me before we were running down the ally, away from the cop cars. We finally came to a stop four blocks away, and I leaned against the wall, panting.
"I need you to go back to the motel," My gaze snapped to Dean in defiance. "Mel-"
"No, Dean," I snapped at him, my anger and emotional stress from the night finally bubbling over. "I'm not going to go back to the motel. I'm not letting you go down into the sewers by yourself unarmed!"
"Why the hell not?" He retorted, turning to me.
"Because that's stupid! And suicide!" I yelled, shoving him. How could he care so little about himself? How was I supposed to take care of him and Sammy when they were so damned determined to get themselves killed?
"He touched you!" Dean had my face between his hands as his eyes blazed with green fire. "He touched you," He repeated quieter, "And when I find him. I'm gonna kill him,"
"When we find him," I corrected him softly, placing my hands on his wrists. "We'll wait till the sun comes up and then head back to the car to get our stuff. Then we go looking for it," I spoke calmly, leaving no room for argument. We stopped at a run down looking chinese restaurant and had some food as the sun came up. It was around seven when we headed back to the car to get the guns.
The tunnels were just as revolting the second time as they had been the first time. Bits of melted flesh and hair were stuck to the walls and floor and sometimes even the roof of the tunnels. I constantly had to check the ground to make sure I didn't step in any of the goo. Dean led, and I kept my gun pointed behind us, watching our backs.
"Dean," I whispered, shining my flashlight on a creepy shrine looking thing that was in the corner. There was a thud to our left, and we both turned quickly towards the sound, guns ready.
"Check it out," Dean told me, "I'll cover you," I crept towards the sound, trying to make as little noise as possible in case it was the shifter. A similar tarp to the one that had been draped over Sam, Dean, and I was covering a human looking figure. I grabbed the tarp and flung it off of a terrified Rebecca.
"It's Becky," I called softly to Dean before turning back to Rebecca, "It's okay. We're not gonna hurt you, all right? You're going to be fine," I suddenly stiffened as I heard footsteps coming from behind me. I stumbled backwards and felt my back hit the cold, hard wall, but it felt a long way off.
"How do you kill it?" That was Becky's voice. I heard the clink of a beer bottle.
"Thanks," That was Sam. There was the creak of a sofa or chair as he shifted. "Silver bullet to the heart," Sam was sitting on something while Becky stood behind him. I could hear their heartbeats and the creaking of the wood as Becky walked behind him. Only it wasn't Becky. It couldn't be Becky because Becky was here.
"You are crazy," There was a thud immediately followed by the shattering of glass and a pained grunt. Then there was another, lighter thud as Sam's body fell onto a soft surface.
"Melody," I blinked dazedly at Dean, who was trying to pull my hands from where they were gripping my head in pain.
"Sam's in trouble. He went to Becky's," I straightened and looked at Dean in fear for Sam. Dean turned back to Becky and began untying her, but not before I saw the fear in his eyes. The hearing and feelings have been getting a lot more noticeable as of late. Becky saw. That sudden realization hit me hard, and I looked down at her with renewed uncertainty.
"What happened?" Dean demanded, talking to Becky.
"I-I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head," She got out between repressed sobs. "And I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don't know - how is that even possible?"
"It's okay," Dean glanced up at me. "It's going to be okay," He looked back at Becky. "Can you walk?" She nodded, and we helped her to her feet before leading her out of the sewers. I tried desperately to hear what was happening inside Becky's house but all I got was a lot of thuds and one massive crash that made me wince.
"They're fighting, I think," I frowned, trying to stretch my hearing harder. We were just reaching the house when I heard Sam's choked grunts. The thing was killing him. I sprinted inside, gripping the gun tightly in my hands. "Get off of him!" I yelled, raising the gun to aim it at fake Dean's heart as Sammy remained limp on the floor. The shifter scrambled off of Sam, looking like a trapped animal. I pulled the trigger, twice, sending two bullets into his chest. The force of the shots sent it into the wall before it fell motionless to the ground. Dean and Becky ran into the room behind me while I lowered my eyes to Sammy, who, to my relief, was propped up on his elbow.
"You okay?" I asked him, and Sam nodded, breathing heavily. Becky rushed over to Sam, laying his head in her lap and making sure he was alright while I slowly headed over to the dead shifter, hearing Dean following behind me. Dean yanked the necklace off of the shifter, replacing it around his neck, and I smiled slightly before reaching into the shifter's pocket and retrieving my knife. He slid the silver ring off of the demons finger, and held it out to show me before putting it back on his finger. I smiled, remembering when I gave him the ring all those years ago and when Samy gave him that necklace.
"It's over," Those two words and Dean's arms around my waist was all it took to make me relax into his chest.
"Yeah," I agreed softly.
-SPN-
Dean spread the map out on the hood of the Impala, and I watched him, leaning on the car door with my arms folded. I glanced to the house where Sammy and Rebecca were coming out the door talking. I didn't try to listen in to what they were saying, but their words floated over to me anyways. I returned my gaze to Dean and pushed off the car, walking over to him.
"Where to next?" I questioned, and he slipped his arm around my shoulders, making me smile.
"Well, there's still the case in Bisbee or one near Boston," He pointed. I did love Boston. One of my favorite cities actually.
"It must be lonely," I heard Rebecca say from behind me. I took the map and turned, so Dean and I could lean on the hood.
"I think we should check out Boston," Dean's arms wrapped around my waist comfortably, and I leaned on his chest as I held the map in front of us. "We can stop and look into the disappearances in Bancroft, West Virginia on our way up,"
"Yeah, I hear they have great apple pie," Dean sounded boyishly excited, making me laugh. We looked over at where Becky was lifting a hand in goodbye to us, and Dean and I returned the gesture. Sam walked over to us with a heavy sigh, and I gave him an understanding, apologetic smile.
"So, what about your friend Zach?" I folded the map as Dean released my waist, heading to the driver's door as I went around the hood to the passenger's.
"Shotgun," I called back to Sam, who led out a small whine of annoyance as I opened the door.
"The cops are blaming this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. Found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zach's clothes stained with her blood," Sam told us with a look of fake surprise on his face. "Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zach will be released soon," I let out a small laugh, getting into the car and slamming the door behind me.
"Sorry, man," Dean spoke to Sam, glancing in the rearview.
"About what?" He asked.
"I really wish it could be different, you know?" Me too. "I wish you could just be Joe College,"
"Ah, it's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in," Sam opened up, and his words worried me more than if he'd said he missed it.
"Well, that's cause you're a freak," Dean told him, and I grinned slightly.
"Yeah, thanks," Sam replied sarcastically.
"Don't worry, Sammy, we're all right there with you till the end," I glanced in the rearview to see both boys laughing.
"Yeah, I know you are," Sam seemed lighter than he had in a long time.
"You know, I got to say, I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it," Dean mused, shaking his head before glancing at us.
"Miss what?" Sam asked, beating me to it.
"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral," I laughed, looking out the window and trying to ignore the persistent tug in my gut as he spoke those words.
