**Hey everyone! Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but it was harder than the others for obvious reasons. I think it turned out okay, and I'd love you all to review and tell me what you think! Thank you so much to everyone who reads this story!**
Route 666
"If you glare at that map any longer, you'll burn a hole through it, Sammy," Sam glanced up at me, and his mouth quirked up in a small smile that had a mischievous glint to it which unnerved me a bit.
"Why don't try, then?" I snatched the map from him, wanting to wipe the smug, know-it-all look from his face.
"Find anything yet?" Dean's voice joined us as he came out of the gas station.
"Give me a minute," I studied the map. It had taken me a slight bit longer then the boys to learn how to read a map and how to navigate well. They never let me forget it.
"Wait, your looking at it? What's wrong with Sammy?" Dean questioned, mock discomfort and apprehension in his voice.
"I can read a map, guys," I began only to be interrupted by Sam.
"Well, we just don't want to end up in Colorado again when we're trying to get to Michigan," I fixed Sam with an angry look, but I couldn't hold it.
"Yeah, or Wisconsin, although, you've got to admit, the cheeseburgers were worth it," Dean laughed, wrapping both his arms around my waist and kissing the corner of my mouth lightly. I couldn't help join in his laughter as he turned his face to press his forehead into the side of my head, his hot breath tickling my ear and cheek as he chuckled softly.
"Guys," Sam's voice interrupted me before I could turn my face to kiss Dean properly. We both turned to Sammy with identical innocent expressions that we'd perfected back in high school.
"Sorry, Sammy, do you need us to keep it G-rated for you?" Dean asked sarcastically, and I laughed lightly again. The laugh faded when I saw Sam scoff and roll his eyes before looking back at us. That was Sam's way of saying 'you were really close but I'm brushing it off like it's nothing'. Before Sam could reply to Dean's quip, Dean's cell rang loudly. He let go of me to fish it out of his pocket and glanced at the big letters that flashed across the small screen spelling 'unknown'.
"Take it," I sighed, stepping out of his arms completely and closer to Sammy. "We'll figure out how to get passed the construction," Dean nodded and flipped the phone open without another word, walking a little ways off. "So, what's wrong?" I questioned when Dean had reached a safe distance.
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong," Sam shrugged, taking the map from me and spreading it across the car.
"I've known you all your life, Sammy. I know when something's wrong. What's wrong?" I asked, and he scoffed again and shook his head.
"Can we just focus on the map, please?" A frown tugged at my lips. Sam had always opened up to me before. Why the sudden change? Reluctantly, I turned my attention to the map.
"Maybe we can go over the bridge. There," I pointed after a minute of studying, and Sam nodded thoughtfully. I heard Dean's phone snap shut and glanced up to see him walking back towards us.
"Okay, so I think we found a way we can bypass that construction. Just east of here,"
"Yeah, we might even get to Pennsylvania by…" I trailed off as I took in Dean's tight frown and torn expression. "Who was it?" Dean glanced at the phone in his hands and then back at me with a look of almost fear. "Dean," I prompted, starting to get slightly uneasy myself. He finally let out an annoyed sigh of defeat.
"We aren't going to Pennsylvania," Dean announced reluctantly, and whatever was left of the good mood died.
"What?" Sam questioned incredulously. "Why?"
"I got a call from, uh, an old friend," He slipped an arm around my waist tightly as he spoke, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to read between the lines. Anger, annoyance, and (okay maybe more than a little) jealousy flashed through me while I kept a calm facade. "Her father was killed last night. She thinks it might be our kind of thing," He glanced at me again with another troubled, half apologetic look before looking back at Sam. "Believe me, she never would've called - never - if she didn't need us," Sam's eyes flicked from Dean to me uncertainly for a moment before getting in the back.
"Who is she?" I questioned, trying to keep the ice out of my voice.
"Her name's Cassie," He studied me for brief second before continuing, "She's not important," I bit the inside of my cheek before sighing and opening the door.
"She better not be one of your psycho exes," I warned him halfheartedly. He didn't answer.
An hour and a half later
"By old friend," Sam broke the tense silence that had been stretching on for an hour since Dean had explained the phone call. "You mean…"
"A friend that's not new," Dean answered evasively.
"Yeah, thanks," Sam thanked him sarcastically. "So, her names Cassie," He pressed. "You never mentioned her," He prompted when Dean still remained tight-lipped.
"Didn't I?" Dean deflected Sam's question with a vague one of his own.
"No," I replied for Sammy, keeping my eyes trained out the window as I felt the heat of Dean's gaze on my face. The tension in the car seemed to double, making my skin crawl, and I found myself wishing I could take back that syllable.
"We went out a few times," My eyes snapped to Dean's in surprise, and it was his turn to stare determinedly out the windshield.
"You mean you dated someone? For more than one night? And she wasn't Mel?" Sam questioned in shock.
"Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" Dean finally demanded impatiently. "Dad and I were working a job in South Dakota. She was just finishing up college. We went out for a couple weeks," He shrugged like it was nothing, but something told me there was something he wasn't telling us. I frowned and glanced in the rearview, meeting Sammy's eyes just as his flicked away.
"Look, it's terrible about her dad and all, but this really just seems like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do," Sam pointed out, and I glanced at Dean.
"Wait, how does she know what we do?" I'd been so busy thinking about everything else I hadn't even realized the oddity in that little fact. Dean just stayed silent, not taking his eyes from the road, his hand gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"You told her?" Sam questioned incredulously. "The big family secret? Family rule number one: we do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and then you go out with this chick in South Dakota for a couple of times and you tell her everything?" Sam's words came out more and more heatedly as he went on. "Dean!" He snapped when Dean stayed silent. There was something more. Something in the way he was so avidly avoiding our gazes told me there was something he wasn't telling us.
"Yeah, looks like," He muttered, glancing at me and then in the rearview.
"Where was I?" He'd said he and John were working a case, but he hadn't mentioned me. I couldn't think of a time that I hadn't hunted with Dean and John. Well, except for… "Oh," I murmured the word softly, and Dean's silence confirmed it. Dean had never hunted without me except when I'd stayed behind at Bobby's for a month. To plan the wedding.
"What?" Sam questioned curiously from the back. I'd never told him about it. I mean, I'm sure I would've at some point, but he was away at Stanford at the time. He hadn't wanted to be a part of anything that had happened with us anymore. At that point I was still emailing him, but they were growing fewer and farther between. Then, after Sam started hunting with us again, there had been no point in saying anything.
"Nothing. It's a case. We're going," Silence followed Dean's words, and I could almost hear Sam's brain working to try to figure what was going on. Thankfully, he decided not to press anymore.
Dean parked outside of the local paper's headquarters, where Cassie had told us to meet her. I slammed the door behind me and took a breath before starting towards the building. Dean slipped an arm around my waist and I leaned closer to him, not sure what to expect from Cassie. I heard the arguing from inside, an older male and a younger female. We walked through the door, and my eyes immediately found the two that had been arguing.
"You're to close to this. Those guys were friends of yours," I could practically feel the annoyance coming off of the young woman with her back to us. "Again," The man in the suit continued. "I'm very sorry for your loss," Cassie shook her head of dark curls and turned stormily to face us, her expression immediately softening when her eyes landed on Dean. I shifted slightly closer to Dean, my gaze hardening into stone. Somewhere inside me, I knew I was probably being a bitch, but I couldn't help it.
"Hey, Cassie," Dean greeted her cooly. "This is my girlfriend, Melody, and my brother, Sam," Her eyes flicked over both of us before going back to Dean. "Sorry about your dad," Dean added when no one spoke for a while.
"Yeah, me too," She agreed, glancing down, and her eyes grew mournful, causing an unwanted rush of empathy to rise up inside me.
"Well, we can come by later if your busy now," Dean continued, glancing at Sam and I briefly before back at her.
"Yeah, I'll give you my address," She scribbled it on the pad she'd been holding before tearing out the paper and handing it to Dean. "Come by around eight. I'll tell you everything I can,"
"Cassie!" She glanced back as the older man that was most likely her boss called to her.
"I've got to go," She told us, and we nodded. "But thank you for coming," Her eyes went hard as they flicked to me before back to Dean. She whirled around and walked to her boss. We headed back to the car to find a motel, which ended up being half an hour away.
"Two rooms," Dean told the manager, who regarded us boredly before writing something down on a pad. "Queens or twins?" He questioned, reaching back without looking to grab two keys off the hooks behind him.
"Queens," I answered, shifting my bag a bit to try to relieve my cramping arm. The man looked me up and down, giving me an appreciative, toothy, repulsive grin before handing me a key and turning to Dean, who gave him a credit card and a glare. The man handed back the credit card and gave Sam the other key.
"Have a nice stay, Mr. Stensworth," He gave me another grin, and I returned it with a tight smile.
Dean and I were in room 101, and Sam was two doors down across the hall in room 106. Out of habit, I scanned the room for possible exits, and noted the two windows at the back. It was a relatively nice room for what we'd paid, and I set my duffel bag down at the foot of the bed, glancing at the clock that read 7:00.
"Do you know how far her house is?" I asked, turning to face Dean, who tossed his bag besides mine and shrugged.
"I told you when I knew her she was in South Dakota finishing college," He replied, shrugging and glancing at me briefly. I unzipped my duffel bag and took out my toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush and headed to the bathroom while Dean threw himself on the bed in exhaustion. I didn't blame him. I was pretty exhausted too. We'd barely made it out alive of the last hunt, and we had just killed the three ghouls yesterday… or rather this morning. I think it was around 3ish. Either way, we needed to get the hell out of that town pretty damn quick. We'd stopped at a diner for coffee and breakfast around 7, and Sam had bought a paper. That was how we'd caught wind of the killings in Pennsylvania. Three of them. Died in their homes. Doors bolted, windows locked. Insides painted on the walls as if they'd exploded.
I rinsed my mouth and walked out of the bathroom, brushing my chestnut hair that cascaded in waves to my mid back.
None of that mattered now, though. We'd go to Pennsylvania after we were finished with this case, which, against my wishes, I did feel was an actual case. Cassie hadn't seemed too bad, and I wasn't the cat-fighting type. Well, usually. My eyes flicked to where Dean was sleeping on the bed, and I sighed. Dean could make me do the craziest things sometimes.
A knock on the door snapped my attention back into the present, and I glanced at an awake Dean. I moved soundlessly to my bag and picked up the knife that was hidden underneath the sweater before rising and going to the door. Dean had crossed the room and picked up a handgun from his bag to cover me. I pressed the knife flat against my back, hiding it from view in case the knock was a maid or something. The door opened to reveal Sammy.
"Hey, guys, we should get going. It's 7:30," I relaxed. Of course it had been Sammy. Who else would've been at the door? I glanced back at Dean, who hid his handgun in a drawer before coming to stand behind me, slipping his arm around my waist and giving Sam a grin.
"Yeah, let's go," I agreed. "Just give us a moment," I shut the door, and stowed the knife back in my bag.
"You ready?" I stood, turning to Dean as he wrapped an arm around my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
"I guess," I answered, smiling slightly as he kissed me. His arms tightened, pressing me closer as the kiss grew deeper. My hands came up to run themselves through his short hair. There was another harsh knock on the door. I broke away from him, knowing if I didn't he wouldn't. He pressed his forehead against mine, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to melt back into his kisses. "Come on," I whispered breathlessly. "Sammy's waiting," I stepped out of his arms and grabbed my grey jacket. The ride to Cassie's took half an hour more or less, so we got there a few minutes after 8. She greeted us kindly, and I ended up sitting on a couch in her living room in between Sam and Dean.
"My mother's in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her," Cassie explained as she brought out the tea she'd made. "I wish she'd go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,"
"Why?" Dean asked as Cassie set down the tea and began pouring.
"He was scared. He was seeing things," She elaborated.
"What sort of things?" I questioned, interested. If her father was seeing things before he died, it could be a sign of a ghost.
"He said he saw an awful looking black truck following him," Cassie sounded as though even now she didn't believe her father had really been seeing anything but his own imagination and paranoia.
"A truck? Who was the driver?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean and I.
"He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck," She brought two teacups to the small coffee table by the couch. "He said it would appear and disappear, and in the accident, Dad's truck was dented like it'd been slammed into by something big," She handed one cup to Dean and the other to Sam, and my lip quirked at the look she gave me. Dean was looking at the tea with a frown, and I couldn't quite hold back a smile. Dean hated tea. Thought it tasted like mulch. He glanced at me and then at Cassie as he realized that I didn't have a cup.
"Are you sure the dent wasn't there before the accident?" I questioned her, taking a sip of Dean's tea. It was pretty good, actually.
"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dad's car leading right to the edge…" Her voice cracked slightly as she tried to speak about the accident. "Where he went over," She finally finished, looking down at her clasped hands. "One set of tracks!" She snapped her head up to look at us. "His,"
"And the first person killed was a friend of your father's?" Dean double checked our information.
"Best friend," She corrected. "Clayton Soans. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing," She shook her head sadly as she spoke. "Dent. No tracks. And the cops-" Her voice took on a bitter undertone. "-said the same thing they said about Dad. He lost control of his car,"
"Can you think of any reason why your father and Clayton would be targets?" I questioned, not wanting to offend her but also trying to lean towards any deaths in his past.
"No," She answered confidently.
"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" Sam asked, more than a little skepticism in his voice.
"Well, when you say it aloud like that," She rolled her eyes and shook her head, knowing she sounded crazy. Lucky for her, we made a living out of crazy. "Look, I'm a little skeptical about this ghost stuff, or whatever it is you guys are into," She avoided our gazes as she spoke.
"Skeptical," I glanced at Dean as he muttered the word disbelievingly. "If I remember I think you said we were nuts," Cassie's eyes flicked to me coldly and then back to Dean.
"That was then," I glanced between her and Dean, frowning. "I just know that I can't explain what happened out there, so I called you," Cassie's mom chose that moment to open the door loudly and rush into the living room. "Mom! Where have you been?" Cassie jumped to her feet, and I followed her, pulling Dean and Sam up with me.
"I had no idea you'd invited friends over," Her mom fixed the imaginary wrinkles in her coat.
"Oh, mom, this is Dean. My friend from… college," She made up hesitantly. "His girlfriend, Mel," She added tightly as I gave a half wave. "And his brother, Sam,"
"W-w-well, I-I won't interrupt you," She fumbled in her purse for her keys before finding them and turning from us.
"Mrs. Robinson," Dean stopped her, and she turned back to us. "We're sorry for your loss,"
"If it's not too much trouble, we'd like to talk to you for a minute," I tried to ask her as gently as possible.
"I'm really not up to that just now," She walked down the hall without a backwards glance.
"We'll go, then," Sam finally broke the awkward silence that had settled over us since Mrs. Robinson had refused to answer any questions. She was hiding something. Even without the tugging feeling in my gut, I could see it in her shifting eyes. She was terrified of something. "Thanks for the tea," He added as we headed out the door.
"Anything I can do to help. Just call," Cassie told us, and Sam nodded. We got into the car, and it was another half hour back to the motel.
"So, a ghost truck kills two guys," I glanced at the two boys as I talked.
"Best friends," Dean pointed out, and I nodded. "So, we thinking spirit?"
"It would explain how the truck vanishes and doesn't leave any trail," I added, backing up the theory.
"Yeah, but why?" Sam asked the million dollar question. "Cassie said that they had no reason to be targets,"
"Maybe she lied?" I offered, raising an eyebrow.
"No," I glanced at Dean as he spoke, but he seemed determined to avoid my gaze and kept his on the road. "She wasn't lying," I looked away from him, trying to ignore the all too familiar twist in my stomach.
"What about her mom?" I brought up, successfully avoiding the awkwardness. "She was definitely hiding something,"
"Yeah, but she won't talk to us," Sam pointed out as Dean parked outside the motel. It was starting to drizzle, which made me thankful we'd checked in already.
"Research?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam and I before we got out of the car.
"On a killer, monster truck?" Sam reasoned, and I agreed with him. We wouldn't find much.
"Yeah, your probably right," Dean conceded.
"We can go ask around tomorrow," The boys nodded at my suggestion, and I opened the door, getting out of the Impala. Dean let us into our room, and I took off my slightly damp jacket, throwing it on the back of a chair before kicking off my boots and putting my cell on the table. I walked into the bathroom, taking some folded clothes from my bag with me. I changed quickly into a tank top and pajama shorts and walked out.
"How long were you and Cassie dating?" I asked the question casually, trying not to let on how much I really cared about the answer.
"Come on, Mel, it doesn't matter," Dean began, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
"That bad?" He didn't answer, and I frowned slightly. "How long?" He studied me for a moment before sighing.
"About a month," My mouth opened slightly in shock. A month. Dean Winchester who had never dated anybody for more than two days had dated Cassie for a month. That stung more than it should've. Everyone had exes. It was practically part of being in a relationship. Why was Cassie such a big deal?
"Why have I never heard of her?" Usually, Dean had shoved his string of hook-ups in my face. And it wasn't like he hadn't seen me. Even while I was at Bobby's, Dean and John had stopped by at least three times a week. Either they stopped by or they called with some new monster they were hunting and I'd research for them. They never went far from Sioux Falls during that month. It suddenly dawned on me why it had made sense that she was finishing up college in South Dakota. He'd been dating her while him and John had been sticking around.
"I never told you," Dean replied, and his eyes darkened. "Would you have cared?" That stung.
"What's that mean?" My eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and I crossed my arms, facing him. "I would've-"
"What?" He cut me off, and I saw his eyes were dark with anger and annoyance. I felt my own fury beginning to boil my blood. I hated being interrupted, and Dean knew it too. "What would you have done, Mel? Left him? Did you even really want to know?"
"I didn't want to be cut out of your life, Dean!" For that month we'd been just cordial enough to pass as friends, but we'd been cold, distant, always dancing on the edges of a fight. We'd never had that fight. Until now. "I didn't want you to start keeping secrets-"
"Keeping secrets? You want to talk about keeping secrets?" I was dimly aware Dean's voice had raised to a near shout. "Let's talk about how you didn't even bother to tell Sam!"
"Don't bring Sam into this," I snapped. "Sam asked to stay out of our family. He didn't want to know! You know what? You're just making excuses because you were too scared to do anything about it!" I yelled at him.
"Too scared?" Dean's voice went quiet, and I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. "You broke up with me. And while you were off playing Princess Bride, I was hunting with Dad. I was doing my job! What the hell were you doing?"
"I was doing as much as I could, Dean! I was trying to help!" I defended myself.
"Trying to help? By getting married?" He mocked me.
"I didn't know he was going to ask me to marry him!" I snapped, angry that Dean didn't get that.
"Well, that didn't stop you from saying yes!" He shouted, his stormy green eyes so dark they were almost black.
"I didn't know what else to do! What do you do when someone proposes?" I yelled back.
"You can say no!" I glared at him.
"I did! I broke up with him for you, you asshole!" I shoved his chest as hard as I could, making him stumble back a few steps.
"Did you? Or did you just not have a father to walk you down the aisle?" I froze, and the darkness left his eyes as soon as the words left his lips. His eyes widened, and I could see the regret shining in them clear as day. "Mel," He took a step towards me, and I took a step back, tears pricking behind my eyes. "Mel, I didn't mean," I stalked passed him and got the hell out of there. Half of my heart wished desperately that Dean would come after me. The other half knew he wouldn't.
I didn't realize how hard it was pouring until I was already a good half mile from the motel. I was still dressed in the loose, navy blue pajama shorts that was now clinging to my butt and upper thighs. My black tank top was no better, and I realized I was shivering. I wrapped my arms around my stomach self consciously. Anger at Dean still burned in my stomach as I thought about the last thing he'd said. He had only used my dad in an argument once before, and I'd never seen him as angry as I had then. I hadn't talked to him for a week after that. That had been four years ago.
"Hey!" I glanced up to see a car slowing as it rolled it's windows down to reveal two men reeking of alcohol. I wrinkled my nose, and pulled my arms tighter around me and kept my eyes in front of me. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore how I looked, walking barefoot in shorts that barely covered my butt and a tank top that was riding up and showing a small sliver of my stomach. "Hey, baby! You need a ride?" I ignored them. "Hey, come on, baby! Don't be like that! Where you going?" I could beat them up if I wanted to. I repeated that mantra in my head like a chant as I continued putting one foot in front of the other.
Eventually, they got bored and drove off with a 'bitch' tossed over their shoulders. I was now a couple miles away from the motel. It had been around a half an hour. I was thoroughly soaked and shivering uncontrollably now. Three more guys had called out from cars that had been passing by. I thought about hailing a cab but didn't have a phone. An estimated hour had passed. I felt as though my legs would fall off if I took another step, but I knew if I stopped now I wouldn't have the energy to start again. I'd thought I would've reached town by now.
"Hey!" That voice was different from the other men who'd yelled at me. "Mel, what the hell are you doing out here?" I finally stopped walking and turned to face the Impala.
"How did you find me?" I glanced both ways as if there was a portal that had appeared that the Impala had come through.
"It's one street, Mel. It's not exactly New York City," My lips twitched as he said that. "Can you get in the car? Your soaking wet," I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and sliding into the passengers seat, slamming the door behind me quickly as the water started getting in the car. Wordlessly, Sammy handed me his jacket. I smiled slightly and took it, wrapping it tightly around me.
"How'd you know I left the motel?" I questioned quietly, glancing at the clock to see it was midnight.
"The entire motel heard you leave," I winced.
"We were really that loud?" My eyes flicked to him as I saw him scoff slightly.
"Yeah, Mel. You were pretty loud," I sighed, wondering what had even happened. I'd just gotten so angry at him. "What happened?" I just shook my head, and then Dean's argument came back to me. Let's talk about how you didn't even bother to tell Sam.
"Max proposed to me, and I said yes," The car swerved, and I was jerked sideways into the window and then forward as Sammy tried to regain control of the car.
"What? When? What happened?" He fired questions at me, and I tightened my hold on his jacket.
"I'd started seeing Max just before you left for Stanford," I started quietly, looking down and then out the window, memories flooding my mind. "A couple months after you left it got more serious. He started coming with John, Dean, and I on more and more hunts. I didn't mind him. Dean…"
"Hated his guts?" Sam guessed the ending, and my lips twitched again.
"Yeah, pretty much. I didn't realize back then… everything that I know now," I finished. "I thought Dean just didn't like him," I trailed off, thinking about how Dean would snap at him and how he had looked at me during those months… like I was something that would slip through his fingers at any moment. "Then after about four or five months, he proposed,"
"And you said yes?" Sam echoed my earlier statement, and I sighed heavily.
"What was I supposed to do?" I threw my arms up in despair.
"You could've called or emailed," Sam sounded hurt, and I sighed again, glancing at the profile of his face as he kept his eyes on the dark road.
"You didn't want to be part of our world, remember?" He gave me a look, which clearly told me he didn't buy the crap I was selling.
"I would've came back for your wedding. And we were emailing almost the entire time I was at Stanford," He pointed out.
"I know you would've," I answered honestly. "That's why I didn't email you," I took a deep breath, thinking about what I was going to say for a moment before finally spitting it out. "I think I knew I wouldn't go through with it. Maxwell is nice and charming and smart, but…"
"He's not Dean," Sam's voice held an array of emotions to wide for me to even try to figure out.
"I love him," I said simply with a shrug. "I always have, and I always will," He parked the Impala in the same parking space that Dean had parked in, and suddenly it hit me how weird this was. "Wait, how did you get the car?"
"Dean gave me the keys," He replied, looking vaguely uncomfortable.
"Where's Dean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, but I knew the question even before I asked.
"Where do you think?" I sighed one last time and got out of the car. I swore softly as I realized I'd left all my things in the room including my room key. "Come on," I glanced back to see Sam opening his room and holding it open for me. I knew Dean wouldn't be back till late, so I took Sam's offer. His room was about the same as ours, and I sat on one of the chairs in the back. For the most part I was drying pretty fast. My body was still damp, but there wasn't much I could do about that. Sam's oversized jacket was the one thing keeping me warm right now. Sam went over to the closet and took out a spare blanket that most motels had there.
"I'll take the couch," I suggested, knowing he would argue. I took the blanket from him without waiting for a reply.
"It's fine. I can-" I shot him a look that he knew all too well. "Alright, whatever you want," I pulled the blanket over me as I lay on the couch.
"Thanks, Sammy," I closed my eyes, thinking I wouldn't go to sleep for a while. I was wrong.
"Mel!" I jerked awake, panting, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought for sure it would burst. Another nightmare that I didn't remember. Those had become a gruesome habit for me. I looked up into Sam's concerned gaze and blinked in confusion. What was Sam doing in our room? I looked around and the events of last night came back to me, making me groan. "There's been another death," Sam informed me, and I got up begrudgingly. I gave Sam his jacket back before opening the door. The door opened to reveal Dean, fist half raised to knock.
"Dean," The anger from last night was gone, replaced by a regretful, guilty feeling that tugged persistently at my gut.
"Mel," I could see my own emotions reflected in his eyes.
"I'll go get something to drink," Sam half-assed an excuse and disappeared down the hallway.
"I need the room key," I spoke curtly, shoving down my emotions as the memory of Dean's last jab resurfaced. Without a sound, Dean placed the key in my hand, and I brushed passed him, opening the door to our room. It took me twenty minutes to get ready, and I met the boys by the car. The drive out was spent in a tense silence that was only broken by Sam's awkward attempts at conversation from the back of the car.
"Well, how about closing this section of road for starters," I heard Cassie's voice as we got out of the Impala. From the sound of it, she was arguing with one of the town leaders.
"Close the main road," The man echoed. "The only road in and out of town," We walked over to stand behind Cassie. "Accidents do happen, Cassie, but that's all they are. Accidents,"
"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car? See if it was pushed," Dean questioned, and the older man regarded the three of us with distrust before turning to Cassie.
"Who's this?" He asked her, and she nodded at us.
"Sam and Dean Winchester and Mel…" She looked at me with an almost apologetic look.
"Melody Scott," I supplied, smiling brightly at the man. "We're family friends of Cassie's,"
"Right. This is Mayor Harold Todd," Cassie introduced, stepping back so she wasn't standing in the middle of us.
"There's one set of tire tracks. One. Doesn't point to foul play," The mayor informed us, accepting Cassie and my story.
"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about-" She started heatedly.
"Indifferent?" The mayor echoed angrily.
"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" My eyebrows shut up at her blatant accusation.
"You suggesting I'm racist, Cassie," The man spoke calmly. "I'm the last person you should talk to like that," My eyes flicked to him and narrowed. He was hiding something.
"And why is that?" Cassie asked sharply.
"Why don't you ask your mother," He replied, turning without another word. I felt as though we were on the edge of some big secret that connected all of these murders, but we couldn't quite see what it was.
"We should check out where he worked," I spoke up, glancing at Sam and Dean briefly before looking at Cassie. "We'll call you if we find anything," I added to her before I spun and headed back to the car. I sat in the back during the car ride back to the motel, not wanting a repeat of the tension that had been thick in the air going to the crime scene. The ride was twenty minutes.
"Melody," Dean grabbed my arm as I passed him on my way to the bathroom.
"You mentioned my dad, Dean," In all our arguments, it had been an unspoken rule that my dad was off limits. Only that once had Dean ever mentioned him like that.
"I know, Mel. I didn't… I mean, I don't…." I looked into his green eyes and saw the genuine regret reflected there.
"I'm sorry too," I smiled as I helped him. Dean meant well, but he'd never been good with apologies. I raised myself up to kiss him softly on the lips. It was an innocent kiss. A kiss to end the fight. Soft and sweet and it ended too soon. We both had to get ready for our 'insurance investigating'.
Dean parked the car and we stepped out. I wore a white button down shirt with a black blazer, and I rolled the sleeves of both to my elbows. Along with that, I was wearing dark skinny jeans and black boots. I slipped on the necklace with my ID hanging from it. Most people wouldn't check when I gestured to the ID. That was the plan. We walked over to a table with two men who looked to be in their seventies.
"Roger Simmons?" I questioned, and they both looked up. The one closest to us nodded affirmation.
"You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?" Dean checked.
"Who are you?" He asked, his eyes narrowed distrustingly.
"We work for Mr. Anderson's insurance company," I told them in a cheerful voice. "We're just here to tie up a few loose ends, if that's all right,"
"We were just wondering had the deceased mentioned any unusual experiences?" Sammy got to the point.
"What do you mean unusual?" The man asked.
"Well, visions, hallucinations, weird dreams," I listed, watching them closely for any signs they were hiding something.
"It's all part of a medical examination kind of thing," Dean told them, noting their skeptical expressions. "All very standard," He assured them.
"What company did you say you were with?" The same man that had been doing the talking asked us.
"All National Mutual," Dean pulled back his jacket to pull out a folded piece of paper.
"Did he mention a black truck to either of you?" I asked smoothly. "It would be pretty big,"
"What the hell you talking about? You even speaking english?" The man went back to his crab, clearly thinking I was insane.
"This truck," The other man spoke up, and I turned my attention to him. "It would be a big, scary monster looking thing,"
"Yeah, actually I think so," Dean confirmed, and the man looked down, shaking his head. "What?" Dean prompted, slightly annoyed when the man was silent for a few moments.
"I have heard of a truck like that," He told us.
"Where?" I asked him, eager to wrap this case up as soon as possible.
"Not where. When. Back in the sixties there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes they disappeared in big, nasty, black truck," He talked to us, and his words gave me an uneasy feeling.
"Ever find the guy that did it?" Dean questioned, and the man shook his head.
"Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked," He added with a humorless laugh. "See there was a time, this town wasn't too friendly to all it's citizens,"
"Thank you," Was all Sam said, and I gave a slight nod before the three of us backed away and left the two old men to their crab.
"So, the truck," I started, glancing back as I walked next to Dean towards the car.
"Keeps coming up, doesn't it?" Sam pointed out.
"You know, I was thinking… you heard of the Flying Dutchman?" Dean asked, and my mind worked to put together his theory.
"Yeah, the ghost ship that was possessed by the captains evil spirit," I remembered the stories I'd heard.
"Right, so what if it's the same thing. You know, a phantom truck with the intentions of some bastard ghost reenacts his past crimes," Dean figured, and it was a pretty solid theory.
"The victims have all been black men," Sam added, and I frowned.
"But it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie's family somehow," I reasoned.
"Alright, well, you two work that angle," Well, that should be fun.
"Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go to the bathroom before we leave," With that I walked off to try to find a bathroom in the fish market.
-3rd person-
"What happened?" Sam asked as soon as Mel was out of earshot. Dean glanced at him.
"What do you mean?" Sam rolled his eyes as his brother turned to face him.
"I mean Cassie, Dean. When I left you were still in love with Mel, and then all of a sudden you're dating?" Sam's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.
"Look, Mel was getting married, so I went out with Cassie a few times," Dean shrugged as if it was not a big deal.
"And what happened? You just decided to tell her the secret?" Sam still didn't understand that part.
"Mel didn't get married," Sam's eyes widened in sudden realization.
"So telling Cassie the secret was the easiest way to get rid of her?" Dean opened his mouth to protest and then closed it again, glancing away before looking back up at Sam.
"I shouldn't have told her. It was stupid," Dean reflected, and then grew annoyed at Sam's grin. "Would you stop? Blink or something," Sam just stared at him, frowning a bit now.
"You really love her," He realized.
"Of course I do," Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's idiocy and headed back to the driver's seat of the Impala.
"Hey," They both turned to see Mel on the other side of the car. "We ready to go?" Sam glanced from Dean to her and then back. He'd always known that Dean loved her. He just never really understood how much.
Sam was dropped off at the motel to do research while Dean and Mel went to Cassie's to try to find any connection to her family and the killer monster truck. Mel's mind was a whirlwind on the ride to Cassie's house. Dean parked outside her house, and he walked around the car, stopping by the passenger door.
"Are you coming?" Mel hesitated briefly before shaking her head. She got out of the car and leaned against the passenger door.
"No, I'll wait here," He frowned for a moment before he realized what she was doing. She was giving him a chance to end things with Cassie properly. He smiled, leaned his hands on either side of her waist as he pressed his lips to hers for a moment, and she placed her hands on his chest lightly as she kissed him back softly.
"I'll be ten minutes," He promised, and she smiled at him as he turned and walked up the steps, knocking on the door.
"Dean," Cassie greeted, her eyes sliding passed him to where Mel was waiting by the car. "Isn't Mel going to come?"
"She's going to wait by the car. This won't take long," He told her, slipping passed her and into the house. She shut the door behind him. "So, you're busy, or…"
"Um, the paper is doing a tribute to Jimmy. I was just going through his stuff. His awards… trying to find the words," She explained, shrugging.
"That's got to be tough," He couldn't help grinning as he looked at Cassie rummaging through some files. He was talking to her and looking at her and all he could think about was the woman, who was outside leaning on his car.
"For years this family owned the paper, the Dorian's, they had a whites only staff policy. After they sold it, Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop until he became editor. He taught me everything," She turned back to Dean to see him gazing out the window. She smiled a tight lipped, humorless smile. "You know," She leaned on the wall across from Dean. "It was her, wasn't it?"
"Who?" Dean asked, snapping back into the present and turning his head to look at her.
"Mel," Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Cassie continued without waiting for him. "It doesn't matter now. What are you doing here?" Dean debated whether to press but decided against it.
"Trying to find the connection between the three victims," He answered honestly. "Oh, by the way, did you talk to your mom about what Todd said?"
"I did. She didn't want to talk about it," Cassie sounded annoyed as she replied.
"Right," He scoffed a bit, unable to shake off what she had said earlier. "So, just then, what did you mean? What you said about Mel," Cassie looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Nothing. Not important," She shook her head firmly, giving him a false smile.
"No, tell me," He insisted, and her smile disappeared into a sigh.
"Come on, Dean," He just looked at her, and she sighed again. "Even when we were dating, sometimes you'd look at me… and… it was like you weren't seeing me," Her eyes grew far away, as if she was remembering something. "You were seeing her. I just didn't realize it then,"
"I'm sorry," Was all Dean could think to say, and Cassie scoffed, turning away.
"Yeah," She muttered sullenly, and Dean went over to look at some files sitting on her desk. The tense silence stretched on, and Dean finally set down the files, knowing he'd find nothing.
"I should probably go," He crossed the room to the door before turning and looking at Cassie. They just stared at each other, each feeling like a stranger before Dean finally opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind him. Dean descended the steps, and Mel pushed herself off the car.
"How'd it-" He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her harshly, needing to feel her with him, to make sure she was real, that she wasn't going anywhere. Mel responded instantly, one of her hands flew to rest on the side of his neck and the other on his chest. He pulled away, both of them breathing hard, and rested his forehead against hers.
"You're the one," Her skin tingled as his hot breath brushed over it. She pressed her lips against his passionately, and he dropped his arms to her waist as her hand slipped up to the back of head and the other arm snaked around his neck. Mel pulled away this time, smiling breathlessly.
"We should get back to the motel," She whispered, brushing his lips lightly with hers.
"Yeah," He agreed, equally breathless. With an effort, he managed to step away from her and go around the car to the driver's seat.
"Alright then," She smiled widely into the night as she spoke to no one in particular.
-1st person-
"We should fight more often," I broke the comfortable silence, closing my eyes and trying to memorize every detail. It was perfect. I was lying on Dean's chest with his arm around me, his hand stroking my arm.
"Absolutely," He agreed, and I smiled. My smile widened as his words from yesterday night drifted back to me. You're the one. I raised my lips and kissed his jaw softly. He turned his head as well as his body to kiss me properly. It wasn't a demanding or hungry kiss. It was softer, more loving.
"We were always good at fighting," I reminded him, smiling slightly. He chuckled and kissed me again slowly.
"We were good at everything else too," I hummed my agreement, laughing softly. "You were right," Dean went on after a moment, and his voice took on a more serious tone. "What you said before… about being too scared,"
"Dean," I rested my hand on his bare chest as I returned my head to his shoulder.
"We could've had three more years, Mel. If I'd done something," I squeezed my eyes shut, and my hand moved along his chest until it came to the necklace he wore.
"I should have said no," I murmured, finally admitting it aloud. All those excuses that I'd made over the years, and now I was finally admitting it. "I should have just told him no. I knew I loved you," Dean shifted, so he could kiss me gently.
"Cassie was to forget about you," My eyes snapped to Dean's in surprise. "That month was hell for me," His voice grew dark, and his arms tightened around me as if I might melt away without a moment's notice. "But when I was with her… I could almost forget,"
"Why'd you break up?" I whispered the question, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
"You called me from that diner in Brookings. Said you needed a ride and that you'd cancelled the marriage. So, I told Cassie the truth… our entire life story and got in the car and never looked back," Dean replied truthfully, and I smiled. I remembered that phone call. I was stranded in Brookings, South Dakota at a place called Rachel's Diner. The car I had stolen broke down two miles from the diner, and I was sopping wet from having run through the rain, my loose white t-shirt clinging to my body and my boots squishing with every step. It had been one of the happiest moments of my life when Dean had walked through those doors.
"You told her our entire life story?" I repeated, not being able to hide the grin.
"She thought I was nuts," I laughed, looking up into his amused, dark green eyes.
"She probably thought you were dangerous too," He joined in my laughter and flipped us over so he was leaning over me, his faces centimeters from my own.
"I am dangerous," I laughed but was cut off by his lips moving with mine. The phone chose that moment to go off loudly. Dean groaned, sinking into the bed beside me as he reached for the phone with the arm that wasn't around me. I rested my head back on his shoulder in the position we'd been in earlier. I saw the caller ID spell out SAM just before Dean flipped the phone open.
"Yeah?" He answered.
There was another murder. You'll never guess who it was. Mayor Todd. My eyes widened in surprise, and I sat up, pulling the blanket up to cover my torso.
"Your kidding," Dean glanced at me. "We'll be there in twenty," He hung up without another word, and I grabbed the nearest shirt, which happened to be Dean's grey one, and threw it over my naked body, covering myself to my thighs. It was only after I got up from the bed did I realize how freezing it was. I changed into skinny jeans and a long sleeved white shirt with a black jacket and my boots. I spent five minutes brushing my teeth, combing my hair, and putting on makeup. The place turned out to be only ten minutes away, and it wasn't on the same stretch of highway that the other three victims died on.
"They're with me," Sam informed the police man he'd been talking too, placing his 'badge' back into his jacket pocket. "You two look happy," We both just looked at Sammy blankly before watching the two paramedics roll a stretcher by that carried a body bag. "I'm guessing you two worked things out?"
"So, what happened," Dean ignored Sam's guess and focused on the death.
"Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, but it's almost like something ran him over," Sam informed us matter-of-factly.
"You mean like a truck?" I questioned, already knowing the answer.
"Yep," Sam confirmed.
"Tracks?" Dean asked as we stopped walking a little ways away from the police.
"Nope," Sam answered.
"Why was the mayor here in the first place?" I asked, suddenly realizing how weird it was for the mayor to be out in the middle of nowhere at night.
"He owned the property," Sam explained. "He just bought it a few weeks ago,"
"It doesn't make any sense though," My eyes flicked around frustratedly as I talked. "He's white it doesn't fit in with the killing pattern,"
"Yeah, they didn't die on the same stretch of highway either," Dean agreed. "Research then,"
"Yeah, "
"Try last names," I suggested after a couple of minutes of nothing. Last names only gave us a couple of articles that didn't really fit with what we were looking for.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Dean left the keyboard to me.
"Where's Dean going?" Cassie asked, sitting next to me in the third chair. She'd insisted on coming along.
"Bathroom," I told her, forcing a smile before taking the tea she had set on the table. She opened her mouth in protest, but I saved her the trouble. "Dean doesn't like tea," I quickly continued before she could retaliate. "We're trying to find the link to the killings that happened in the sixties, and the ones that are going on now. There wasn't much about it in the papers,"
"Not surprising. Probably minimal police work too. Back then equal justice under the law wasn't too literal around here," She elaborated, her voice lined with bitterness. I opened my mouth to reply when my phone rang.
"Sam?" I answered.
"Okay, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family for a hundred and fifty years," Dean came back and sat next to me, and I put my hand on the speaker, pulling the phone away from my mouth a bit.
"The mayor bought the property from the Dorian family," Dean frowned, glancing at Cassie.
"Didn't you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?" Dean asked her, and my eyes flicked to her face and back to Dean before typing in Dorian into the search bar.
"Yeah, along with most everything else around here. Real pillars of the town," She told us while I scrolled through the links, clicking on a particularly interesting one.
"Check this out," I turned to Dean and Cassie and watched their eyes widen as they read the headline. Dorian Still Missing.
"What? What did you find?" Sam's voice was in my ear.
"Cyrus Dorian went missing in April 1963. Investigated but never solved," I read off the article. "And it was around the time of the other murders back then,"
"Well, I pulled a paper up on the Dorian place. It must've been in bad shape when the mayor bought it," Sam told me, and I frowned.
"Why?" I asked.
"First thing he did was bulldoze the place," I put my hand on the speaker turning to Dean. "He knocked down the building," Cassie nodded.
"It was a big deal. One of the oldest local houses left. It made the front page," She stated.
"He has a date?" Dean questioned, reaching around me to the keyboard.
"Date?" I asked Sam.
"The third of last month," I relayed the information to Dean, who typed it into the search bar.
"Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian house on the third. The first killing was the very next day," He glanced at me, and I smiled a bit. We got it. Cassie decided to go home for the night and left before Sam picked us up. It was only six, so we decided to stop at the local diner. Dean and I sat across from Sam, and we ordered.
"So, what do we do now?" I shrugged at Sam's question.
"We wait for the truck to make a move, I guess," Sam's face twisted into an unsatisfied expression.
"That's it? This thing could kill something else," He argued.
"Well, if you have any ideas, we'd love to hear them," Dean told him, glancing towards the kitchen longingly.
"Coffee?" The waiter offered me a cup, and I accepted it readily.
"Thanks," He poured the coffee and offered me a smile. I felt a familiar arm go around my waist, tugging me closer to him.
"I'll have some too," Dean's cheerful voice added, and I kept facing the waiter so Dean wouldn't see the wide smile that overtook my face. The waiter's eyes flicked back and forth between Dean and I for a moment before pouring Dean a glass and leaving. We turned back to a grinning Sam.
"You guys are adorable," He mocked, making his voice higher.
"Shut up," Dean told him as I threw a rumpled up napkin at him. He just laughed at the two of us, and I smiled a bit. I took a sip of my coffee as we sank into a comfortable silence. That's when Dean's cell rang. He barely glanced at it before flipping it open.
"Hello?"
Dean! Dean! Help! Oh, God. I heard Cassie's desperate voice come through the phone, and I set down my coffee and turned to Dean, who was looking wide-eyed.
"Cassie, what's happening?" He asked urgently.
It's outside. The truck is outside my house. Oh, God, please come. She pleaded into the phone, and I could hear the raw terror in her voice.
"Just hang on we're coming," He put a twenty on the table for our coffee, and we left without a backwards glance. It took us only five minutes to get to Cassie's, and by the time we arrived, any sign of the phantom truck was gone. I made tea for Cassie and her mom, since both boys were clueless. I gave Sam her mom's while I handed hers to her.
"Maybe you could put a couple shots in there?" She suggested, and I laughed lightly as I took a seat next to Dean on the couch across from her. Sam sat next to a shaky Cassie, and her mom sat tight-lipped on a chair beside the couch.
"You couldn't see any driver?" I checked with her as she sipped her tea.
"There seemed to be no one," She just shook her head slowly, remembering the truck. "Everything was moving so fast, and then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?"
"Whoever's controlling the truck wants you afraid first," I met Sammy's eyes, and I nodded. I had asked the first time and now it was time for Sam's puppy eyes.
"Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died," Mrs. Robinson didn't respond; she just stared into the distance.
"Mom," Cassie prompted gently, and she snapped out of it, her eyes coming to rest on her daughter.
"Martin was under a lot of stress," She excused, looking down. "Y-you can't be sure what he was seeing,"
"Well, after tonight we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck," I put a light hand on Dean's arm as he spoke to Mrs. Robinson with an edge in his voice. "After tonight, you and Cassie are marked,"
"He's right," I turned to Mrs. Robinson with eyes that pleaded her to open up for her daughter's sake. "Cassie could die. If you know something, you need to tell us so we can help both of you,"
"Yes," She finally whispered. "He saw the truck,"
"Did he know who it belonged to?" Sam asked kindly.
"He thought he did," She answered cryptically.
"Who?" I prompted her, impatient to find out.
"Cyrus," She answered, putting a hand to her heart as if the very word was painful. My eyebrows rose at the familiar name. Cyrus Dorian. "A man named Cyrus," I turned to Dean, and he was already pulling out the folded paper out of his jacket and unfolding it.
"Is this Cyrus?" He questioned, and she nodded, pressing her lips together.
"Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago," She told us in a hushed voice, and my heart sunk at her words.
"Why do you say died?" I knew this was going to be a painful story, but she needed to tell us.
"The paper says he went missing," Dean pointed out. "How do you know he died?"
"We were all very young," Mrs. Robinson began, and I reflected how no good ever came out of those words. "I dated Cyrus a while. I-I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course cause interracial couples didn't go over too well then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin," She frowned as she talked. "I don't know. He - he changed. His hatred… his hatred was frightening,"
"The murders," I realized.
"There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of truck, but nothing was ever done. Martin… uh… Martin and I…. we were going to be, uh, married in that little church near here, but, uh, last minute we decided to elope cause we didn't want all the attention,"
"And Cyrus?" Dean asked, and the sinking feeling returned. Mrs. Robinson looked down and sniffled, shaking her head as a tear made it's way down her cheek.
"The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church," I could hear the horror mixed with the pain and fear in her voice as she spoke, but more than that, I could hear the pain in the story she was telling. "There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died,"
"Did the attacks stop after that?" I shot Sam a scathing look. If I'd been sitting next to him I'd have smacked him upside the head for his callousness.
"No, there was one more," The woman got out between sobs. "Wedding night that truck came for Martin. He was beating him something terrible, but Martin, see, Martin got loose," She gestured with her hands as if it was happening in front of her eyes. "And he started hitting Cyrus. And he just kept hitting him and hitting him," She descended into sobs at the end of it.
"Why didn't you call the cops?" Dean asked, but I already knew the answer to that. The cops wouldn't have been too nice about a black killing a white.
"This was forty years ago," The woman told him, shaking her head. "He called on his friends: Clayton Jones and Jimmy Anderson and they put Cyrus's body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the edge of his land. And all three of them kept that secret all these years,"
"And now all three are gone," Sam finished, looking down at his hands.
"So is Mayor Todd," I added, frowning. "How does he figure into this?"
"Yeah, and, you know, he said that you of all people would know that he is not a racist. Why would he say that?" Dean questioned her.
"He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus's disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done, he…" She let out a little half laugh as if even all these years later she still couldn't believe it. "He did nothing,.. because he also knew what Cyrus had done,"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Cassie's voice broke as she asked her mom the question.
"I thought I was protecting him, but now there's no one left to protect," She held her arms out helplessly, looking at her daughter with tears in her eyes.
"You're wrong," I told her, my eyes finding Cassie. "There is," She grabbed her daughter's hand tightly in her own. "We'll give you a moment," Mrs. Robinson nodded gratefully at me, and I led the two boys out of the house. I leaned on the car in between Sammy and Dean.
"Miss Stanford?" I questioned, studying Sam's face.
"Ah, my life was so simple," He reflected, grinning slightly and looking down. "School, exams, papers on… polycentric cultural norms," I laughed with him.
"So, I guess we saved you from a boring existence," Dean summed up, and I rested my head on his shoulder as he slipped an arm around my waist .
"You're welcome," I added with a wink that made him crack a grin.
"Occasionally, I miss boring," I sighed at his words. I'd never had boring. And I couldn't imagine wanting it.
"So this killer truck," Dean started, and I straightened.
"I miss conversations that didn't start with this killer truck," I joined in Sammy's laughter, and, after a moment, Dean chuckled too.
"So, this Cyrus guy was evil on a level that infected even his truck," Dean began. "When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years,"
"What woke it up?" Sam asked, not looking at either of us.
"Mayor Todd's construction on his house," I filled in easily, having already thought all of this through.
"Right, the demolition and remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless," Dean and I nodded at Sam's knowledge.
"Like that hospital in Chicago" I remembered, and Dean grinned fondly at the memory.
"Right, or that theater in Illinois," Sam added. That one wasn't such a fond memory, and I couldn't suppress the wince. I rubbed my arm just below the elbow where there was a pale, almost unnoticeable scar.
"Yeah, guy who tears down the family homestead, Todd, is the same guy who kept Cyrus's murder quiet and unsolved," Dean figured.
"So now his spirit is awake and out for blood," I finished, nodding.
"You realize we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?" Sam reminded me unnecessarily, and I couldn't help smiling at him as he shifted and looked down. "Aw, man,"
"You said it, not me," Dean told him, and I laughed again. The door to the house opened and Cassie walked out and joined us.
"Hey," Dean greeted her as we both pushed off the car, and she came to stand in front of us.
"Hey, she's asleep," Cassie informed us, talking about her mother. "Now what?"
"Well, you stay put and look after her, and…" Dean glanced at me. "Mel will stay here with you," I crossed my arms over my chest and gave Dean a look.
"What?" I was truly shocked that he had said that. Dean had given up trying to keep me out of the line of fire a long, long time ago. Why the sudden change?
"He does that to you?" I regarded Cassie, hesitating for a moment before smiling.
"He get's all authoritative," I agreed, and Dean glanced between Cassie and I in disbelief. "I hate it," I fixed Dean with my gaze as I said that, and I heard Cassie laugh softly from behind us. Dean gave an exasperated sigh.
"Stay here with them, please?" He offered, and I frowned.
"Since when do I stay behind?" I was standing right in front of him now, and there was something strange in his eyes.
"Since you almost get yourself killed trying to save someone else!" The faith healer. This was about the faith healer.
"Last time I checked, saving people is what we do, Dean," I pointed out logically, and his mouth opened and closed for a moment as he groped for an argument.
"Just… leave the saving people to me and Sam for a while, alright?" I raised my lips to meet his, and he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
"They really are good together," I heard Cassie's whisper dancing on the edge of my hearing.
"Yeah, they are," Sam replied to her, and I smiled into Dean's kiss. Sam coughed loudly, and one of Dean's hand left my waist to briefly shoo Sam away. Gathering my self control, I pulled away from Dean, still smiling, and my gaze slid past Dean to Sam.
"Shotgun," I told him, and Dean laughed, letting me go as he went around to the front of the car. I climbed in the passenger's seat while Dean stopped in front of the driver's door.
"You coming?" He asked Sam before getting in; Sam got in a second later.
Half an hour later, Sam was yelling instructions to Dean while he drove a construction truck that we had borrowed from the old house that was becoming a new house. I was down by the truck, making sure it wasn't getting caught on anything. Dean gunned the engine and the car jerked forward, bringing the muddy monster truck a bit farther out of the swamp. I tore away a branch that had caught on the wheel. How I had ended up with this job, God only knew.
"Little more!" Dean stepped on the gas again, and it gave a massive heave and pulled the truck over the hill. "Alright! Stop!" I heard Dean turn the key to shut off the vehicle. I jogged up the hill and heard Dean jump down from the car.
"Nice," Sam commented.
"Hell yea," Dean answered with boyish excitement as they headed over to where I was waiting by the Impala.
"Now I know what she sees in you," Dean shot Sam an annoyed look.
"Can we focus please," He tossed me the keys as they got close and I opened the trunk, taking out a flashlight so we could see better. Sam took out a red gasoline container and Dean grabbed the salt while I took the matches. "Alright let's get this done," We went around to the driver's door of the truck, and Dean pulled it open, drenching us in a reeking odor that made me want to gag. "Alright, let's do this," The sooner we were out of here the better off we'd be. Dean and Sam dragged the body to some abandoned tires and sprinkled it with salt and gasoline. I lit the matches and ignited the corpse. We stood back, watching the bones go up in flames.
"Think that'll do it?" No sooner had Sam spoke than I heard the rev of an engine.
"No," I answered, backing away from the massive truck.
"So, burning the body had no effect on that thing?" Sam questioned as we were shrouded in the ghostly headlights.
"Sure it did. Now it's really pissed," Dean quipped, frowning at the truck.
"Maybe you have to burn the truck?" I suggested.
"Why? Cyrus's ghost should be gone, right guys?" Sam reasoned as we just watched the truck, frozen. Dean suddenly began backing away and heading towards the car.
"Where are you going?" I didn't hesitate before following Dean to the car.
"We're going for a little ride. We're gonna lead that thing away," I opened the passenger's door.
"You have to find a way to destroy the real truck," I called to Sam, who looked at me with disbelief. "And, Sammy, please hurry,"
"Hurry? How are you supposed to burn a truck?" He yelled in protest.
"I don't know. Figure it out," Dean yelled before turning the key and driving off with the truck following. Dean was flooring the accelerator, which was dangerous enough considering the road was covered with a thin layer of rain mixed with ice. That and the massive truck intent on killing us that was currently chasing us did nothing to calm me. After a minute, I pulled out my phone and called Sam.
"You got to give me a minute," He answered.
"We don't have a minute, Sammy," I snapped into the phone, fear making my temper short. "Can you burn the car?"
"Uh, let me get back to you," I opened my mouth to protest and was met with the dead silence. I pressed the phone to my jacket.
"He put me on hold," I glanced back at the approaching headlights. "Weave to the right," I instructed, and Dean obeyed without hesitation. The truck veered with us, swerving unsteadily.
"Mel?" I pressed the phone back to my ear eagerly.
"What do you have, Sam?" I asked, not bothering with any other crap.
"Where are you," I glanced out the windows.
"I don't know! There's no signs!" No sooner had the words left my mouth then I saw a sign. "Wait, we're at Decatur Road. I think some two miles off the highway," I heard Sam's relieved sigh over the phone. "Is that good? Sam we're about to get run over!"
"Headed east?" He checked, and I rolled my eyes.
"Ye-" The word rose in pitch to a small scream as the truck hit us and we swerved.
"The son of a bitch," Dean cursed furiously, and I pressed the phone to my ear again.
"You want to turn right up ahead," Sam directed.
"Right. Right," Dean yanked the wheel and we made the right.
"Did you make it?" Sam questioned.
"Yes! What's the next step?" I asked into the phone, twisting in my seat to look out the back windshield at the angry, bright headlights.
"Do you think we could move this along a little faster?" Dean snapped.
"Okay, do you see a road up ahead?" I searched desperately.
"No!" That's when my eyes caught sight of it. "Wait yes," I pointed to it. "There you have to turn there," I glanced back at the truck to see it was coming up on our right. "Dean stop the car," He looked at me as if I'd lost it. "Stop the car!" I braced myself on the dashboard as Dean slammed on the brakes. The phantom truck shot passed us on our left, and I pointed down the dirt road. "Turn in there," He drove down the road speedily, and I put the phone on speaker, wondering why I hadn't thought of that earlier.
"Now what?" Dean asked into the phone.
"You need to go exactly seven tenths of a mile and then stop," I did a double take on his last word.
"Stop?" Dean and I echoed together.
"You need to go exactly seven tenths, guys," Sam stressed. I watched the numbers flick upwards until we finally reached 10. Dean swung the car around, and we waited. "Guys, you still there?" Sam asked shakily. We saw the monster of a truck revving it's engine on the path before us. "Do you see the truck?"
"Yeah, it's just staring at us. What do we do?" Dean asked him.
"What you are doing, bringing it to you" Sam's confident voice was the only reason I wasn't panicking. Dean started to speak, but I grabbed his arm tightly.
"Dean, it's moving," The truck had started picking up speed as it drove directly for us. My heart pounded in my chest so loudly I was sure Dean could hear it. It drew closer and closer and went faster and faster. Dean turned, pressing me into the seat and covering me while I pressed my face into his jacket and covered the back of his head and neck with my hands, trying to protect him anyway I could. As it turned out, he didn't need protecting. There was a groaning noise and then nothing. We were both shaking as Dean slowly sat back in his seat, and I let out a soft, immensely relieved laugh that Dean joined.
"Mel?" I fished around for the phone and held it up so both of us could hear.
"Where'd it go?" Dean asked, still breathless from the scare.
"You're where the church was," Sam told us, and I could tell he was relieved as well. Suddenly, it all made sense, and I let out another laugh as my heart slowed to a normal base,
"What church?" Dean questioned.
"The one Cyrus burned down with the kids inside," I explained, and Dean looked around us.
"Well, there's not a whole lot left," He told Sammy.
"It doesn't matter," I answered.
"Church ground is hallowed ground whether the church is still there or not," Sam elaborated, and I couldn't stop smiling. "Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground sometimes they're destroyed, so… I figured… maybe that'd get rid of it," I frowned at his explanation.
"Maybe?" I echoed disbelievingly.
"Maybe?" Dean reiterated, more angrily than I had. "What if you were wrong?"
"Huh, honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me," Dean snatched the phone from my hand and hung up on him, and I just stared at it.
"Well, it honestly didn't occur to me," Dean mimicked, and another relieved grin took the place of the frown. "I'm gonna kill him," I laughed lightly while Dean turned on the car, and we drove out of there.
"My mother says to tell you thanks again," Cassie told the three of us as we stood outside the Impala. Sam got into the driver's seat, and Dean got in the passenger's. "He loves you, you know,"
"Yeah," I smiled fondly as I glanced at the two boys in the front seat of the Impala. "And, hey, if you ever get attacked by another phantom truck or racist ghost, you know who to call," She laughed a bit, and I turned to go.
"Sorry I was such a bitch to you before," I turned back slightly and smiled. "You're good for him. Better than I ever was,"
"Thanks, Cassie," I frowned slightly then. "It's too bad. We could've been friends," I felt the truth of that settle in my stomach like lead. It was true. In another life, Cassie and I could've been great friends.
"Yeah, we could've," I gave her a half wave before sliding into the backseat.
"Where to next?" Dean questioned Sam and I.
"There's still Pennsylvania," I grinned, and Sam turned the key, making the engine roar to life.
"All right, then," I glanced back at a Cassie disappearing into the distance, and then up at Dean. A smile overtook my lips.
-3rd person-
Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a sleeping Mel leaned against the window, and then glanced at Dean, having been waiting for Mel to fall asleep to ask his brother the question.
"Have you ever thought about settling down," Dean looked over at him in surprise.
"Settling down?" He echoed as if the thought had never occurred to him.
"Yeah, you know, get a house, have a couple of kids," Sam elaborated, glancing away from the road. Dean glanced in the rearview at the Mel's peaceful, sleeping face and thought about her laughter after the car had vanished and they'd lived. He thought about her shooting that shifter in St. Louis. He thought about her unwavering, hazel eyes as she stepped in front of them to face the woman in white. He thought about the sparkle she always had as she saved him yet again. He slid on his sunglasses and gave Sam a grin.
"Wake me when it's my turn to drive,"
