**Hey guys so this is the 7th Chapter! I'm debating what chapter to tell Sammy about her 'gifts', so I'd like some reviews on that to help me make a decision because I'm so torn! It's such a struggle. Anyway, hope you like it!**

Hook Man

I sat next to Dean, reading over his shoulder while he checked out possible hunts on his laptop. Sammy was not far away on a pay phone, and I could distantly hear him tapping his credit card on the metal phone box. Lately I'd been getting better at filtering out unnecessary noise, like the people who were sitting next to us talking about the puppy their neighbor had just adopted. The waiter came by and gave us our coffee, setting Sammy's down in front of his empty chair. I glanced up to see him walking back towards us with a dejected look on his face.

"Your half-caff double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis," Dean greeted him with a cocky grin.

"Bite me," Sam told him, rolling his eyes before sitting heavily, and causing me to smile at the two.

"So, what'd you find?" I asked him, interested even though the hopeless look on Sam's face told me all I needed to know.

"I had them check the FBI's missing-persons databank. No John Does fitting that description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations,"

"Sammy, I'm telling you, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean spoke directly to Sammy with a note of sadness in his voice.

"But, look at this," I changed the subject, taking a sip of my coffee before turning the computer to face Sam. "Article out of Plains Courier. Ankeny, Iowa," I explained, giving him a moment to scan the article, a bored look on his face. "It's about 100 miles from here," I continued, ignoring the uncertain looks coming from Dean. He wasn't sure this was a case, but I had a feeling it was.

"Mutilated body was found near the victim's car," Sam read off the article. "Parked on 9 Mile Road."

"Keep going," I prompted, waiting for him to get to the questionable part. The part that would help to convince the two boys that this was, in fact, a hunt.

"Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer," Sam kept reading, his face suddenly growing more interested. "The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible," I met Dean's unconvinced eyes, and we had a mini stare down. Finally, Dean turned to Sam, who had been watching us with slight amusement, with a sigh.

"Could be something interesting," Dean backed me up, and I grinned, turning my eyes to Sam. Two to one. I win. Plus Dean drives, so we were going to Iowa.

"Or it could be nothing at all," Sam argued, gesturing to the laptop. "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything doesn't mean it's the invisible man,"

"But, what if it is?" I countered, raising an eyebrow. Sam opened and closed his mouth for a moment, trying to come up with a viable response.

"Dad would check it out," One hour and twenty minutes of rock music later we were approaching Ankeny, Iowa.

"Drop me off here," I instructed, making both boys' eyes snap to me in surprise. "We need covers, and the best way to get these people to talk to us is to fit in," Dean pulled over to the side of the road, and all three of us studied the house for a moment.

"A sorority house?" Dean looked at me with a mix of excitement, lust, and hesitance, making me laugh lightly.

"Would you rather I join the frat boys?" I raised an eyebrow at him, and, for once, Dean Winchester was at a loss for words. "I'll call you as soon as I find something," I promised, leaning forward in the backseat to press my lips to Dean's.

"Hey! Get a room you two," Sam complained, and I pulled away reluctantly while Dean glared at Sam. On my way out the door, I ruffled Sam's hair, causing him to complain again, "What am I five?"

"Take care off him, Sammy," Then I was out of the car and used the keys that Dean had given me to unlock the trunk. I grabbed two guns and shoved them to the bottom of my bag before swinging it over my shoulder and slamming the trunk closed, heading towards the house as I heard the familiar rumble of the Impala leaving behind me.

"Can I help you?" A dark-skinned woman in her early twenties answered the door. I offered her a winsome smile, and she smiled back.

"Yeah, I'm here from Ohio," I told her, glancing at the number on the side of the house as if I was unsure I was in the right place. "I'm joining the sorority here…?"

"Oh," Her eyes brightened in understanding, and she grabbed my arm, dragging me into the house and slamming the door behind us. She pulled me up the stairs to a hallway that was bustling with girls. "Everybody! This is…" She looked at me uncertainly, and I gave her another smile.

"Mel," The words had no sooner left my mouth then she repeated them loudly to the girls, who had frozen and were watching us.

"Mel! She's moving in!" The excited girl turned to me, "I'm Taylor! You can stay with me and Lori. We have an extra bed. Our last roommate just moved out," Everyone had gone back to what they had been doing, and she led me to the room that had a paper taped to it that read 'Taylor & Lori' in big pink bubble letters.

"Thank you so much," I told her as she gestured to the empty bed where I set my bag down. I glanced back at her, and then away quickly as if pondering a question. "Um, sorry, but is it true…" She looked at me in confusion. "You know, about that guy who died?" Her face closed suddenly, and her eyes grew cold and defensive.

"You shouldn't talk about him," She spoke shortly, heading towards the door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," My words were rushed, and to my relief she paused with her hand on the door. "Were you two dating?" She turned back to me, shaking her head and smiling slightly at the thought.

"Me and Rich? No, but Lori… she's our other roommate," She gestured to the bed in the corner. "He was her boyfriend. She was there when it happened,"

"Oh, my god. She must be pretty freaked out," I tried my best to sound horrified, and apparently did a pretty good job.

"Yeah, just don't talk about it," The girl - Taylor - told me. "You know, Lori and I are leaving in a few minutes to go to a church ceremony they're holding for him. You should come. I could introduce you to the townspeople. There's a fraternity a few blocks from here," She raised her eyebrows suggestively, seeming to return back to normal and shake off the sad memory.

"Sorry," I laughed, "I have a boyfriend," Even as I said those words a smile wormed it's way onto my lips. "But I'd love to go to the service. It's sweet that the church is doing that,"

"Well, yeah. I mean, she is the reverend's daughter," My eyes widened fractionally in interest. That makes things a lot more interesting. Before I could say anything else, the door opened, and an obviously grieving girl came in, sitting on the bed that was pushed against the wall.

"It's time to go," She told Taylor before noticing me and frowning.

"I'm a transfer from Ohio," I explained, smiling, "I'll be rooming with you for a while,"

"She's going with us to the church for the service," Taylor explained.

"If that's alright with you," I quickly added as I saw her uncertainty.

"It's fine. Sorry, I'm just a bit tired. Haven't really slept that much since…" She trailed off and sniffed a bit, and Taylor put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "We should get going," She wiped a stray tear away quickly, looking up at me and giving me a small, forced smile before standing. We talked a bit on the car ride over, and Lori and I got along surprisingly well. She reminded me a bit of me after my dad died, trying to be brave for everybody else and never telling anyone how sad you really were. When we got to the church we sat in the front, which was expected since she was the deceased's girlfriend.

"Our hearts go out to the family of the young man who perished, and my personal prayers of thanks go out, as well, because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter," The preacher nodded at Lori, who just looked up at him with her hands clasped in her lap. "And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means to us as a church…" The loud bang of a door slamming echoed throughout the church and made everyone turn in their seats. I met Dean's eyes as soon as I glanced back, and he held his eyes out to the side in an ''I didn't do anything' gesture while I gave him a look.

"…As a community and as a family." The preacher continued. "The loss of a young person is particularly tragic," Sam and Dean sat in the back row so they didn't draw any more attention to themselves. "A life unloved is the saddest of passings. So, please, let us pray for peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children," I lowered my head, lacing my fingers together and placing them on my lap. "Thank you," We got up as people started filing out.

"Listen, since you're here," Taylor began, "We have to throw a party tonight. It's something we do whenever we get a new girl!" She sounded very excited about that.

"Oh, that's okay, I'm not really the party type," I tried to make excuses, but she wasn't buying them.

"Fine, no party then, just some drinking and games. You can bring that boyfriend of yours," She nudged me as Lori spoke up from her other side.

"I don't think I'm going either. There's a lot of stuff I need to get done, and-" She was interrupted by Taylor.

"Come on, it'll be fun," She whined, looking back and forth between us as we headed for the door.

"I can't," Lori insisted. "It's Sunday night," I was starting to see why Taylor was throwing this thing; Lori did seem like she was in need of a little fun.

"It's just us girls, then," She glanced at me with a slight frown. "Sorry, no boyfriends. We'll just do tequila shots and watch 'Reality Bites'," What in the world is 'Reality Bites'?

"My dad makes us dinner every Sunday night," Lori held firm while Taylor rolled her eyes.

"I'll go," I didn't know why I said that, but it would be easier to keep track of Lori and the rest if they were all in one place. I would keep an eye on them while Sam and Dean hunted the thing that killed Lori's boyfriend.

"See? The new girl's coming, now you have to come," We stopped outside as Taylor tried to convince her. "Come on, Lori. I know this has been hard, but you are allowed to have fun," Lori glanced at me and then at Taylor before sighing.

"I'll try," She promised with a smile. Taylor nodded and hugged her hard before turning to me.

"I'm going back to the house. Are you coming?" I shook my head. She pulled out her phone, and I figured there was no harm in giving her my number. In case anything happened she'd have it to call.

"I'll go back later," I told her before turning to scan the crowd, searching for familiar green eyes.

"Hey," I smiled as Sam and Dean seemed to appeared in front of Lori and I.

"This is Sam and Dean," I introduced them to Lori, figuring she probably trusted me more than she trusted them.

"We just transferred here, uh, to the university," Sam told her, and she nodded, smiling. I glanced back and forth between Sam and Lori curiously before smiling a bit sadly. It was time he moved on from Jessica.

"I saw you inside," Lori answered, gesturing to the church.

"We don't want to bother you. We just heard about what happened," Sam began, giving her his puppy dog-innocent eyes.

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean picked up earnestly.

"I kinda know what you're going through," I had to look away from Sam, knowing what he was about to say, "I-I saw someone get hurt once. It's something you don't forget," Lori nodded sorrowfully, glancing at me, but before she could speak, the preacher came up beside her.

"Dad, this is Sam and Dean. They're new students, and this is Mel, she's my new roommate," Lori introduced us each to her father, who smiled at us.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Dean held out his hand for a handshake, which the preacher excepted. "I must say that was an inspiring sermon,"

"Thank you very much," The preacher smiled at us. "It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message," I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. I glanced between Sam and Lori again to find them looking at each other.

"Listen," I slipped my hand into Dean's, pulling him away slightly as I engaged the preacher in conversation, leading him away with us. "we're actually new in town, and we were looking for a, uh," My brain scrambled for something to say.

"Church group," Dean helped me out, and I shot him a grateful look, "There's no need to be embarrassed," My grateful look turned icy, and I turned back to the preacher.

"You're boyfriend's right. You shouldn't be ashamed. Embrace the Lord's love," I could feel Dean suppressing an eye roll, and I tightened my hand, warning him not to say anything.

"So, when is church group?" I questioned, doing my best to sound interested as the preacher beamed at us.

"Every Tuesday and Thursday at six pm sharp," He let out a chuckle, and I glanced past him to see Sam waving us over.

"Sorry, you'll have to excuse us," I told him politely, "We have classes to get to," We walked over to Sam, who filled us in on what Lori had said as we drove to the library.

"So, you believe her?" Dean inquired skeptically.

"Yeah, I do," Sam told us assuredly.

"We know she's hot, Sam," My lips twitched as Sam stammered out a response to Dean's words.

"No, man, there's something in her eyes," Sam trailed off, thinking for a moment before continuing. "And listen to this, she heard scratching on the roof and found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car," Sam filled us in as I led the boys into one of the aisles.

"Bloody body suspended," Dean stopped us, turning to Sam, and my eyes widened in realization. "That sounds like-"

"The hookman," I finished in for Dean in a whisper.

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the hookman," Dean glanced between Sam and I.

"It makes sense if you think about it," I reasoned, "I mean, every legend has a source. Remember Bloody Mary?"

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures? And the invisible killer," Dean argued, still not convinced.

"Maybe the hookman isn't a man at all," Sam suggested. "What if it's some kind of spirit?"

"The spirit of a killer?" I questioned, and Sam shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe someone who thought about killing," An idea struck me, and I walked out of the aisle, getting the librarians attention.

"Excuse me can we see the arrest records for the town please?" I asked her, and she glanced uncertainly at me and then past me at Sam and Dean.

"It's for a paper we're working on," Dean added, and I briefly sent a silent thanks to him. The librarian finally gave in with a sigh and a shake of her head.

"How far back?" She questioned.

"As far back as they go," Sam answered, giving her a winning smile at her weirded out look.

"Um, alright just sit here, and I'll bring them right out," She brusquely walked away, and Sam, Dean, and I sat at the round table.

"Do you really think it's the hookman?" Dean asked, glancing from Dean to me.

"I think it could be," I replied, looking around before looking back at him. "And I also think we don't have any better leads," Dean shrugged and opened his mouth to respond when the librarian came bustling back carrying a cardboard box of files, setting them down in front of the three of us.

"There you go," She spoke cheerfully, "Arrest records dating back to 1851," She set another box on the table, and Dean tentatively leaned forward and blew some of the dust off the cover of one of the lids. I coughed slightly as the dust rose in a cloud, and some stuck to the back of my throat.

"Thanks," Dean told her without so much as a glance in the librarian's direction, which, honestly, made me feel kinda happy considering the librarian was pretty.

"So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" I shot Dean a look, and he gave me an innocent smile.

"Welcome to higher education," Sam replied, making me laugh as I flipped open the lid of one of the boxes.

I had sifted through forty files and put them into piles of no or maybe. Next to me, Dean was doing the pretty much the same thing with pretty much the same result. Sam had got up and began pacing a few minutes ago and was now leaning against a bookshelf behind me with another file that seemed to have intrigued him.

"Hey, check this out," He finally spoke up, and I turned to look at him. "1862-" I rose and came to stand beside him. "A preacher named Jack was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red-light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes, uh, right here," My eyes were drawn to the sketch of the man with the hook glaring harshly into the distance. "'Some of the deceased were found in their beds, sheets soaked with blood, others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees,'" Dean reached out and took the criminal report, reading it briefly. "'As a warning against sins of the flesh,'"

"Get this," Dean began, and I tore my eyes away from the picture read the report. "The murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident, had it replaced with a silver hook,"

"And, look where it happened," I pointed to the name that was clearly scrawled on the page.

"9 Mile Road," Dean read aloud.

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sammy pieced together. Dean rocked back on his heels, glancing at me with a grin and then at Sammy.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkman. Let's check it out," Just then, my phone rang, causing the people around me to glare. I pulled it out, frowning, and flipped it open.

"Hello?" I answered it, and found a small part of me hoping it was Jez.

"Mel?" I frowned for a moment before I recognized the voice as Taylor's.

"Taylor, hi, what-"

"Where are you?" She interrupted me, sounding a bit annoyed. I opened my mouth to reply when she huffed and continued. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. Just get over here,"

"Why? Did something happen?" I grew a bit worried. Was another person killed?

"Yes, everyone's waiting for you. You said you'd come remember?" Oh. The party.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I don't think-"

"Uh, but you said you'd come," Taylor snapped, sounding really annoyed now.

"Yeah, but something came up," I tried to think of an excuse. "I'm spending the night at my boyfriend's," The words flew out of my mouth before I could think. There was a moment of silence on the other line before she spoke again.

"Fine, have fun," She hung up. This is why I didn't have friends outside of hunting.

"What was that about?" I glanced up from my phone to meet both of the boys grinning faces, like they knew exactly what that had been about.

"Come on," I huffed, storming past them, and hiding a smile. It was pitch black out as we approached where the killer had hung the bodies. Sammy was shining a flashlight out the window, and the headlights were all the way on, which was the only reason we hadn't crashed yet. Dean opened the trunk as I got out and joined him behind the car. He pulled out a shotgun and handed it to Sam.

"There you go," Was all he said as he handed me another shotgun already filled with rock salt.

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good," Sam pointed out as Dean straightened, holding out his hand filled with rock salt.

"Yeah, I know. Rock salt," Dean explained.

"Salt being a spirit deterrent," Sam realized, loading his gun.

"It won't kill it, though," I pointed out, not sure how much Sam remembered. "It will only slow them down,"

"That's pretty good, you two and John think of this?" He asked us.

"I told ya," Dean slung the gun over his shoulder, and I gave him mine as I fixed my sleeves so they wouldn't get caught. "You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius," I heard a crack in the trees and froze, my hand grabbing Dean's arm instinctively. "What is it?" There was a more audible crack this time, and Sam's gun came up. Something was coming through the trees. Dean took a slight step in front of me, so he covered half my body from anything that would come out of those woods. I spared a glance of annoyance at the back of his head. He'd been doing that ever since we'd started dating. Well, truthfully, he'd been doing it for as long as I could remember, but it became more noticeable after we started dating. Whenever there was anything remotely dangerous, he'd step in front of me, to shield me from whatever was coming.

"Put the gun down now!" I winced as the shout was magnified ten times to my focused ears. "Now!" The man in uniform was yelling roughly at us. I immediately put my hands up, not wanting to get into trouble with the police.

"Wait, wait, wait! Okay, okay!" Dean tried to calm the agitated officer as he dropped my shotgun and his to the ground. I knelt in the dirt, still slightly behind the two boys.

"Now, get down on your knees!" He commanded, and Dean obeyed him. "Come on, do it!" The officer was still yelling although we were on our knees.

"Calm down, calm down! We're on our knees!" I let the fear filter into my voice, knowing it would only help us later when we were making up a story to keep us out of prison. We put our hands behind our heads, and that seemed to calm him slightly. "Get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!" He was still yelling.

"He was pointing the gun," Dean muttered in annoyance as we dropped to our stomachs. He slowly walked towards us and pulled the shotguns away from us before I heard the metallic clicking of handcuffs as the officer snapped them on Dean. Next thing I knew, I was squished in between Sam and Dean riding down to the police department. We were divided into separate rooms, and I was handcuffed to a table in an interrogation room.

"What's your name?" I looked at the man sitting across from me with wide eyes, deciding whether I should be a smartass or scared witless.

"Melody," I answered honestly, still debating.

"You go to school here, Melody?" I nodded without responding. "Where are you from?"

"Ohio," I answered. "I just transferred here. Look, are you going to charge me with something?"

"I'm doing the questioning here," I swallowed my anger at the snide response. "Those two boys your brothers?"

"No," I answered shortly, staring him right in the eyes and watching him begin to shift uncomfortably.

"Sir," I glanced up at the younger officer, who had opened the door. "They're being released,"

"What?" The older man glared at me and stormed out of the room. A couple minutes later a different man came in and took off the handcuffs.

"Follow me," Was all he said, but it was clear he wasn't happy about me being released either.

"Hey," My eyes found Dean and Sam standing by the door of the department, and I walked over to them, silently questioning. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," I nodded, smiling slightly at Dean's concern before signing a form that they had there, and then we walked out the door.

"Saved your asses," Dean announced, grinning at Sammy and winking at me. "Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I'm Matlock," I smiled at Dean's childish pride.

"But how?" Sam questioned as Dean threw his hands in the air like he was God.

"Told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you," Dean laughed.

"What about the shotgun? What about Mel?" Sam fired the questions as we approached the car.

"My awesome girlfriend was helping make it believable," His arm went around my shoulders as he talked, and I grinned again. "And you were hunting ghosts and that spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical hell week prank,"

"And he believed that?" I questioned skeptically, and Dean turned his cocky gaze on me.

"Well, Sammy looks like a dumbass pledge," Suddenly, the door to the department flew open and ten guys poured out, running to their cars and pulling away. I frowned as a bad feeling twisted my stomach and pulled out my phone, quickly dialing and pressing the speaker to my ear.

"Hello?" The panicked voice that answered wasn't Taylor's.

"Lori?" I asked in confusion. "Where's Taylor?" The almost painful twist in my gut and the fear in Lori's voice answered my question before Lori could.

"She-she's gone. I woke up - blood - a-and. Police - but,"

"Lori, calm down," I opened the door and climbed into the car quickly as Sam and Dean followed. I covered the mouthpiece as I spoke urgently to Dean, "Sorority house. Her friend's dead,"

"Oh, my god - I-I couldn't - I-you weren't there - where- where were you? W-what…?" Lori stammered, trying to find the words.

"I'm on my way," I told her. It took us ten minutes to get there with Dean's driving, and we did a quick drive by to see that everything was covered in yellow tape. We made our way past the house and parked on the side of the street behind it. Dean jumped up onto the rocky ledge that was a couple feet off the ground. Sam and I followed him without hesitation.

"Why would the hookman have come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road," Sam asked from behind me as Dean led us along the side of the house.

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else," Dean offered, keeping his eyes on the girls at the door to the house. If they turned around, they'd see us.

"Lori," I replied, making both of them glance at me questioningly. "She's the only one that's connected to both murders. It has to have something to do with her." Two girls walked out the door of the house, and Dean pulled me behind the wall of the house.

"So you're a sorority girl now?" He had that playboy look on his face that I'd come to hate, and I realized I was against the wall with his hands on either side of my waist. "Any chance I'll see a naked pillow fight?" He seemed to realize it was a bad thing to say the moment it left his lips because his face quickly changed to a look of regret. I shoved his chest with both my hands causing him to take a step or two back before I turned to Sam.

"Give me a boost," He held out his clasped hands for me, and I fitted my foot into them.

"Ready?" I nodded and straightened my leg as he pushed his hands upward. The result was that I was able to pull myself onto the second story balcony and look out over the police cars and scared sorority girls. I turned and spotted an open window, walking towards it quietly as I heard Sam and Dean following me. Pulling myself through the window wasn't hard. It was the scrambling to get out of the way before all of Sam's weight was dropped on my back. I got out just in time. Dean fell onto Sam and muttered an apology.

"Try and be quiet, will you?" Sam admonished him as they stood.

"Me be quiet? You be quiet!" Dean snapped back at him, but I was already checking to see if the room was clear. A horrible thought had just occurred to me: I had my bag in that room. My bag had guns in it. The cop was just walking out of the room, and I pushed the door open as silently as I could. It creaked loudly. The cop didn't stop descending the steps. I breathed a relieved sigh and quickly went to my bag, slinging it over my shoulder before turning to the bed soaked in blood.

"'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'" Sam read the letters that were carved into the wall. "That's right out of the legend,"

"Yeah, that's classic hookman, all right," Dean agreed. "It's definitely a spirit," He continued, tapping his nose. I agreed; the smell was almost overwhelming.

"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Sam made a face as he talked. Dean came to stand next to me and look out the blinds while I studied the gruesome message.

"Wait," I walked closer to the message, pointing beneath it to a carved symbol. "That looks familiar," Before either of the boys could answer, there were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the letters and back towards the closet. We slipped back out the window and climbed down the side of the house. When we arrived at the Impala, I leaned in through the window and picked up the file that was on the passenger's seat, flipping through it until I found what I was looking for.

"It's the same symbol," Dean confirmed as I leaned against the Impala between Dean and Sam.

"Guess it is the spirit of Jacob Karns," I told them, not taking my eyes off the picture.

"Alright, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down," Dean spoke easily.

"After execution Jacob Karns was laid to rest in old north cemetery in an unmarked grave," Well, that doesn't make our jobs any easier.

"Super," Dean muttered sarcastically, going to the driver's side while Sam and I went to the other side.

"Okay, so, we know it's Jacob Karns, but we still don't know where he'll manifest next or why," Sam laid out what we had so far as Dean studied the ticket he'd picked up off the dashboard.

"I'll take a wild guess about why," Dean turned to me. "Mel's right, your little friend Lori has something to do with this," He got into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

"I'll sit in the back," I offered before Sam could open the door. He glanced at me in surprise before turning his eyes to Dean in the driver's seat and then back with a knowing look on his face.

"Mel, back there, that was just Dean being Dean," Against my will, my eyes flicked to the driver's seat and back as Sam talked lowly. "You know how he is,"

"Yeah," I sighed, going to the back anyway, "Just sometimes I wish he wasn't," I winced as I spoke those words and quickly got in to save myself from looking at Sam's stunned face.

-Some 5 hrs later-

"Hey, this college thing is awesome," Dean grinned, coming up to me and Sam. He slipped an arm around my waist, which didn't surprise me considering how many frat boys had tried flirting with me. I was too old for them anyway, but Dean was the jealous type. Not that I minded. He'd apologized earlier about the comment, which had surprised me. Dean didn't normally apologize about anything, ever. He wasn't the best at apologies.

"This wasn't really my experience," Sam admitted, glancing around uncomfortably.

"Let me guess - library, studying, straight As," Sam nodded, and I couldn't help but smile at him. "What a geek."

"Alright," I stopped Dean's teasing. "Did you do your homework?" I asked Sammy, who sent me a mock glare, making me smile.

"Yeah, it was bugging me, right. So, how is the hookman tied up with Lori?" Sam started, unfolding a piece of paper. "So, I think I came up with something." We walked as Sam gave the article to Dean.

"1932 - Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967 - Seminarian held in hippie rampage," Dean began reading the paper.

"There's a pattern here," Sam insisted, although if there was, I couldn't see it. "In both cases the suspect was a man of religion, who openly preached against immorality and then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force - killings carried out - get this - with a sharp instrument,"

"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean questioned, still confused.

"A man of religion who openly preaches against immorality," I repeated as it finally dawned on me, and one glance at Dean told me he understood too.

"Except this time instead of saving the whole town," Sam continued, "He's just trying to save his only daughter,"

"Reverend Sorenson," Dean voiced the name we'd all been thinking.

"But we met him, do you think he'd summon a spirit? To kill people?" Something about that just didn't sit right with me.

"Maybe," Sam told me, shrugging, but looking like he didn't believe it much either. "Or you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"

"Yeah, the spirit latches on to the Reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them. Yeah, okay," Dean nodded; it made a lot more sense than the summoning idea.

"The Reverend would never know," I added, shaking my head. Dean looked at me and then to Sam somewhat unhappily.

"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight," He finally stated, his eyes on Sam. I knew what was coming next and frowned.

"What about you two?" Sam asked before focusing on me. "Maybe you should stay too. She seems to trust you," Before either of us could reply, a guy who couldn't have been older than twenty-three, but who was no doubt good looking walked right in between Sam and Dean and I, turning to me.

"Hey," He didn't really get farther than that when Dean wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.

"Hey," Dean replied for me, making me bite my lip to hold in a laugh at the guy's surprised face. Dean and I turned back to a grinning Sam as the frat boy left, "We are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave," Dean led me to the car, and I climbed in the passenger's seat while he slipped behind the wheel.

"You should go easier on him," I told Dean, knowing the car ride was only a couple of minutes.

"What?" Dean was honestly confused.

"About going to college," I still hadn't confronted Dean about what the shifter had said. Anything the shifter had said.

"Yeah, well, kid went to college. It's fun to tease him," Dean grinned, and I saw right through it.

"You know, Dean, it's alright to be jealous-" That word had barely left my lips when he cut me off.

"Jealous of what? That Sammy got to sit around studying for five hours a day?" He scoffed.

"College isn't that bad-" I defended.

"How would you know?" That stung, and I fell into silence. "I didn't mean that," Dean spoke quietly after a few minutes.

"I know," I answered, turning away from the window to study his profile while he drove. "You could've gone, you know. You were smart enough,"

"Yeah, me and my four-point-o G.P.A," He scoffed sarcastically.

"Dean, you were smart enough," I began only to be cut off again.

"Why didn't you go?" The question caught me off guard. "I talked to Sammy, I know you were accepted at Princeton," I bit the inside of my cheek. I hadn't planned on ever telling him that.

"I didn't want to," I shrugged, going through the cassette collection to avoid looking at him. "We're here," I cut off anything he was about to say. He parked the car, and we got out with flashlights, searching the cemetery. We didn't have to search long before finding the unmarked grave.

"Here we go," Dean started digging while I held a flashlight in one hand and a shotgun in the other. "'I didn't want to' isn't really a reason for not going to college," My heart sunk as he picked up the conversation again.

"I just decided not to. That's all," I told him with a grin that he probably couldn't see. "Besides, it's a good thing I stayed. You, John, and Sammy would've been lost without me,"

"People don't just decide not to," Dean pressed. Sometimes I really hated how he knew me so well.

"Well, I did," I replied.

"Really?" He inquired, panting slightly now and only half way done digging the hole.

"Really," I confirmed, glancing down at him before checking for any sounds. I shined the light on his chest, so I could see his face but he wasn't blinded. He had that sexy smirk spread across his features as he dug. "You want me to say it," It wasn't a question, and Dean's smirk widened until it grew into a smile.

"It would be nice," I sighed, rolling my eyes but grinning all the same, and there was the sound of splintering wood below me.

"I stayed because I didn't want to leave you," I had been holding in that secret for so long the words tasted weird on my tongue. I heard a grunt of effort from Dean, and I realized he'd pulled himself out of the hole. He lowered his lips to mine, and I smiled into the kiss. He deepened it, and I vaguely felt the flashlight slip from my grasp before I brought my arms around Dean's neck. My free hand tangled in his hair, and I felt his arms tighten around my waist. This was my heaven. Right here. Him. I pulled away reluctantly, putting the hand that wasn't holding a gun on his chest to keep him from kissing me again.

"Graveyard. Not romantic." I reminded him, grinning widely despite everything. He sighed, giving me a quick kiss before I could stop him, and stepped back to pick up the salt, pouring it over the bones in the broken coffin. I grabbed the flashlight and shined it down the hole, so he could see what he was doing. He poured alcohol over it to make the bones more flammable before lighting the match.

"Goodbye, preacher," He threw the match down into the pit, lighting up the corpse and watching it burn. I opened my mouth to speak to tell Dean we should go when it happened.

There was terrified screaming. The preacher. A door slammed. Someone was rummaging through something. Panting. A door opened. "Don't. Don't. No, please!". Pounding footsteps. Panting. A door slammed. A door banged open. "No! No!". A gunshot. Something solid shattered. Another shot. A window shattered. "Dad! Dad!". Lori. Coughing.

It all passed in snippets like pictures in a rapid slideshow only instead of pictures it was sounds. Loud. It was too loud. Lori was in trouble. Sam was there. Her dad got attacked by something. Maybe.

"Melody!" My eyes were closed. I couldn't remember closing my eyes, but I forced them open. With them, reality flooded back, and I was snapped out of it. Dean was holding my wrists tightly, pulling them away from my ears, and I met his eyes with my wide ones. I was panting and shaking and sweating, and I needed to get myself together.

"Fine," I forced the word out of my mouth. "I'm fine," I calmed a bit.

"No, you're not," Dean snapped, sounding scared and concerned. "They're getting worse," It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Damn it,"

"Call Sam," I told him, and his eyes widened. It was probably the one thing I could've said that forced him to stop worrying about me so much. He dialed Sam's number, and, after two rings, Sam picked up. I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my chest as soon as I heard his voice come over the other line. He was fine. Dean was fine. I would be alright. I stood up from where my back had been pressed against the cold metal of a marble gravestone, and made my way to Dean just as he was hanging up.

"We're meeting him at the hospital. Lori's dad was attacked by the spirit," I frowned, glancing at the pit we'd just spent a good twenty minutes finding and digging up.

"I thought it was over," Dean shrugged, clenching his jaw in anger while looking at me.

"So did I," He turned and began heading back to the Impala, leaving me no choice but to follow. "What did you hear, exactly?" Dean finally broke the silence two minutes into the drive.

"Bits and pieces," I looked out the window and into the black forest. "It's like watching a preview to a movie, except with just sound," I tried to explain what was happening.

"Did you…" He made a gesture and trailed off.

"No, I didn't feel anything this time. Just sound," Dean sighed heavily, and I turned my gaze on him. "Dean, I don't know-"

"We have to something about it," Dean's statement left me feeling strangely defensive.

"No," I hadn't planned on speaking the word, let alone making it sound so firm and borderline aggressive. He glanced at me with shock written across his features.

"Mel, it's hurting you. You saw what happened just now. You were in pain," I shook my head at his arguments.

"I can save people," I insisted. "I just haven't figured out how to use it properly yet,"

"It's been four years, Mel," He snapped. "If we haven't figured it out by now. I don't think we ever will," He pulled up in front of the hospital, and we rushed inside. We were stopped by two police officers before we could get to Sam.

"Oh, it's alright, we're with him," Dean told them, pointing to Sam. "That's my brother. Hey, brother," Dean called to Sam, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing aloud. The sheriff waved us through, and we walked up to Sam and him. I threw my arms around his neck as soon as I got close enough, not wanting to fully admit how worried I'd been.

"You okay?" I asked for both of us as I pulled away after a moment.

"Yeah," Sam smiled at me before turning serious as we turned and began walking down the hallway.

"What the hell happened?" Dean questioned.

"Hookman," Sam sounded angrier than before.

"Wait, you saw him?" I double checked.

"Damn right," Sam turned to stand in front of us, forcing us to stop. "Why didn't you two torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about? We did. Are you sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Dean asked him.

"Sure as hell looked like him. And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching onto the reverend," Sam stated the obvious.

"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the hookman after himself," Dean pointed out before I could say an equally sarcastic remark.

"I think it's latching onto Lori," Sam's revelation caught my interest.

"Why her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Last night she found out that her father was having an affair with a married woman," Sam told us.

"So what?" I turned slowly to give Dean a look that he returned with an innocent shrug.

"So, she's obviously upset about it," I continued for Sam. "Upset about the immorality of it," I realized as I spoke what Sam was getting at.

"Exactly, she told me she was raised to believe if you do something wrong, you get punished," Sam informed us.

"Okay, so she's conflicted, and the spirit of preacher Karns is latching onto her repressed emotions. And maybe he's doing the punishing for her," Dean worked out.

"Right," Sam agreed. "Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl," He listed the people that had gotten killed. "Dad has an affair,"

"Remind me not to piss this girl off," Dean shifted.

"But we burned the bones," I continued, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Their done. So, why's he still running around trying to hook people?"

"You must've missed something," Sam told us, and Dean considered it for only a split second before shaking his head and turning to the windows.

"No, we burned everything in that coffin," Dean spoke with confidence.

"Did you get the hook?" My eyes snapped to Sam as my mind went a mile a minute.

"The hook?" Dean echoed.

"There wasn't a hook," I spoke quickly, trying to work out where it could be. "It was the murder weapon,"

"And, in a way, it was part of him," Sam added.

"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power," Dean realized.

"We need to find the hook, so we can stop the hookman," I stated. Never thought I'd say that. Next stop was the library, which turned out to be a couple hours of researching.

"Here's something, I think," Dean leafed through the pages of the huge book he was going through. "Logbook. State penitentiary," He told us at our inquiring looks. "Karns, Jacob - personal affects, disposition thereof," He mumbled, moving his finger along the words as I leaned over from the chair next to him to read the words.

"Does it say anything about the hook?" Sam asked, and Dean held up a finger.

"Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas church," Dean finished reading and looked up at us.

"That's where Lori's father preaches," I told them, remembering the church.

"Yeah, it's where Lori lives," Sam agreed as everything started to make sense.

"Maybe that's why the hookman's been haunting Reverends and Reverends' daughters for the past 200 years,"

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might have seen it? I mean, a bloodstained silver-handled hook?"

"We should check the church records,"I told Dean as he looked to me. He took the cap out of his mouth and pressed it onto the pen. We got the church records easily enough, and Sammy read it out loud for us.

"St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received - silver-handled hook from state penitentiary." He gave an annoyed sigh, and I knew what was coming before he spoke. "Reforged,"

"Great," I muttered sarcastically. "It could be anything in that church," Dean closed his book, and set it on the table before standing. We hurried out of the library and back to the Impala before driving in a tense silence to the church.

"All right," Dean began as he got out of the car carrying his duffel with salt, gasoline, and matches. "We can't take any chances," We walked towards the church. "Anything silver goes in the fire,"

"I agree," Sam nodded.

"Me too," I came up beside them, holding a shotgun filled with rock salt. "But Lori's at the hospital, which means we'll have to let ourselves in,"

"All right, not a problem" Dean gave me a crooked smile and a wink before turning to Sam, "take your pick,"

"I'll take the house," Sam chose, and Dean grinned.

"Okay," Sam started towards the house. "Hey," Dean stopped him, making him half turn. "Stay out of her underwear drawer," I let out a small laugh, not caring when Sammy sent me a look and Dean a frown. I turned and started walking towards the church as silently as I could.

I took the top floor and Dean took the basement, collecting anything even remotely resembling silver and stuffing it into big bags before lighting a fire. Dean and I took turns tossing silver items into the flames and watching as they were devoured. Suddenly, there were footsteps above us on the stairs. I spun quickly, instantly aware of how vulnerable Dean and I were.

"I got everything that even looks silver," I immediately relaxed at the sound of Sammy's voice and turned back to throwing items into the fire.

"Better safe than sorry," Dean told him, throwing something else that might've been a vase into the fire. Then, there was a creaking above us. We froze. The creaking didn't stop, and it became clear that someone was up there. "Move, move," Dean ordered, and I snatched the shotgun I'd taken off the floor and reached the stairs first, taking them cautiously before pushing the door open lightly. I stepped onto the carpeted floor to see Lori seated in one of the rows with her hands clasped in front of her. I lowered the shotgun and turned a look on Sam. Dean jerked his head towards Lori, and Sam headed her way while I passed Dean and descended the stairs as he closed the door behind us.

"Give me that," He took the shotgun from me and cocked it.

"I don't need to be protected, Dean," I snapped at him, finally having enough. "I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself,"

"Yeah, I can see that from the way you almost get yourself killed trying to save a drowning man who's already dead!" Was he… that was almost two months ago!

"I'm not-" I began hotly before my eye caught a dark figure behind him. "Dean!" I yelled, but it was too late. He whipped around, raising the shotgun only get hurled into the wall. "Dean!" I screamed his name again as there was a deafening crash of him hitting something. I backed away from the spirit quickly, not having anything to defend myself with. My back hit the wall, and the thing raised his hook, but I grabbed the nearest thing and swung it at him. Sometimes, spirits or ghosts remember feeling fear of something like a bullet or knife, and it freezes them for a moment. Unfortunately, that didn't work. The hook came down, and I had to dive out of the way.

I scrambled for the bag as the thing chased me, and I yanked out the salt, turning and spraying it everywhere. The spirit disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, and my eyes found Dean's motionless body under the remains of a wooden bookshelf. I crawled over to him, dragging him out from under the larger wooden pieces.

"Dean?" I checked him for a pulse with shaking fingers and squeezed my eyes shut hard, trying not to cry with relief. He'd looked so pale when I'd seen him. So… dead. I'd thought… I shook my head to rid myself of the lingering thoughts. "Dean, come on," There was a crash from above, and there was Lori's scream quickly followed by Sam's multiple shouts. I turned to Dean, grabbing his jacket and shaking him roughly. "Dean! Wake up," I checked his head for any wounds, but found only a bump forming in the back. There was another scream from above me, and I spotted the shotgun lying a couple feet away.

"Just please, Dean," I begged him, torn between wanting to help Sam but not being able to leave Dean. I straddled his chest, an idea coming to me. I punched him straight across the face. His eyes fluttered open, and he gasped a bit, jerking up and making me scramble off of him and towards the gun. "Sam's in trouble. Come on," I forced the words around the lump in my throat. I led Dean, running towards the sounds of fighting before aiming the gun at the hookman, who was standing over Sam and Lori.

"Sam, drop!" Dean yelled, and Sam dropped without hesitation. The hookman disappeared and the rock salt made a dent int the wall. Sam was panting on the floor, holding his arm and looking up at us in confusion.

"I thought we got all the silver," Sam gasped, and my eyes found his arm in concern. He was bleeding.

"So did I," Dean agreed.

"Then why's he still here?" Sam yelled in anger.

"We must've missed something," I snapped at them both, glancing around and cocking the shotgun just to be safe.

"Lori, where did you get that chain," My eyes dropped to the silver looking necklace around her neck. Of course.

"My father gave it to me," She explained in a rush.

"Where'd your dad get it?" Dean demanded.

"He said it was a church heirloom. He gave it to me when I started-" She began breathing hard.

"Is it silver?" I cut her off, knowing we were a bit pressed for time.

"Yes!" She cried, and Sam yanked it off her neck. Suddenly, there was the sound of something sharp scraping against the plaster of the wall, drawing a jagged line towards us.

"We have to burn the necklace," My sharp words snapped everyone out of there trance, and Dean turned to Sam.

"Sam," Sam tossed him the necklace, and Dean tossed him the rock salt he kept in his pockets.

"I'll stay," I told Dean as he turned to me. Dean hesitated, "I'll be fine," I promised, smiling slightly at his obvious concern. "Sam's hurt anyway. Be careful," I told him earnestly.

"You too," He turned and sprinted back the way he'd come as I pointed the shotgun at the wall where the jagged line was being drawn and fired. I quickly snatched one of the rock salt packs from Sam and reloaded the gun.

"Mel, behind you!" Sam yelled, and I spun, raising the weapon only to have it knocked from my grip. I ducked the swipe the hookman took at my head and crawled backwards. Sam threw an arm protectively over my stomach and another one over Lori's as we half lay on the floor. The spirit raised his hook, and I desperately searched for a weapon to use. As it turned out, I didn't have to, for, at that moment, the hook began to shrivel and melt. Before long, orange glows started appearing all over his body, and he burned away into ash. Sam let out a grunt of pain as I stood shakily, brushing myself off even though I knew it would probably do nothing to improve the way I looked. I probably looked like hell frozen over.

"We don't tell Dean I lost the gun," I told Sammy, who managed a small laugh as I went to pick it up. "You okay?" I asked, glancing at the cut on his forearm. It didn't look so bad; I'd patch it up once we get to the car. Heavy panting caused me to look up at Dean, who stopped running a few feet away. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, fisting my hands in his jacket and burying my head in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around my waist securely. Maybe I was wrong. Sometimes I do need Dean to protect me.

-SPN-

"You two saw him too? The man with the hook?" The sheriff double checked, looking doubtful.

"Yes, we told you. We all saw him," Dean spoke exasperatedly at the officer.

"We fought him off, and then he ran," I finished the story, putting a gentle hand on Dean's arm to stop him from making his usual smartass comment to the sheriff.

"And that's all?" the sheriff prompted.

"Yes, that's all," Dean conceded, glancing at the Impala and looking like he was ready to leave.

"Listen," The sheriff began threateningly, pointing at Dean's chest. "You, your girlfriend, and your brother-"

"Oh, don't worry. We're leaving town," Dean grabbed my hand and shot one last look at the sheriff before heading towards the car. I got into the passenger's seat as he got into the driver's, glancing at his wing mirror to see Lori and Sam talking. I glanced at mine to see Sam walking away from Lori.

"He'll get over Jessica. He just needs time," I told Dean, who was biting his lip and thinking. He looked over at me and smiled a bit as I slipped my hand into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, I know he will," Dean glanced past me at Sam, who was standing outside. I jerked my thumb at the backseat and heard a satisfying, annoyed sigh from outside. Sam climbed into the back reluctantly.

"I'm injured," He whined.

"And I'm the reason you're not dead," I retorted, glancing at the rearview to see his mouth twitch a bit.

"We could stay," Dean offered, already knowing he'd turn it down. Sam just shook his head.