Melody opted to get her own room the night after they'd left the motel. She needed some time to herself, no matter how much Dean protested—begging may be the more appropriate word.

Melody had grown quite accustomed to being alone, while Dean was in purgatory. It was especially relaxing after particularly stressful days. She painted her nails and listened to some Van Halen while eating a burger and drinking a shake.

Dean, on the other hand, was absolutely panicking. After their spat back in Kearney, things seemed to blow over quite well for the brothers. Though, what if Melody wouldn't be as quick to forgive? It took her years to completely get over him never calling back when they were younger. How long would it take her to get over him holding a gun level with her head with the intent on killing her, regardless of whether or not he was in control of his body.

"Everything's going to be fine, Zippy," Blair mumbled as she thumbed through a magazine while her head rested in Sam's lap. Her careless grin was nauseating to Dean in that moment. "Give her the night to herself, so she can process the fact that you almost killed her."

"That's exactly why it's not fine," Dean objected. "I pointed a friggin' gun at her head. Now she thinks that I'm not over the whole Greg thing, and I'm going to have to tell her about Benny because of your big mouth."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "Obviously you're not over the Greg thing, for starters," he sat up a little straighter against the headboard. "And as far as Benny goes, she needs to know. We all should have known from the jump, because it's nuts."

"I'd still like to know about Benny," Blair interjected, raising her pointer finger in the air for emphasis.

"You're Switzerland," Dean shook his head. "You get to know nothing." Blair's pointer finger dropped, and she replaced it with her middle finger, aiming her fire right at Dean. "In your dreams, sweetheart."

Blair feigned disgust with a fake gag. "I'm going to need Melody to forgive you pretty damn quick, because I'm about to puke my guts up."

Dean dismissed himself from the couple's room, and started towards his own. He stopped in front of Melody's for a second, considering knocking and praying she answered. Then he weighed in what Blair had said, and maybe she was right. He went an entire year without her—what was one more night?

He silently wondered if she was okay sleeping alone, without him. Without her it felt like an hour was dragging by at each passing minute. It was the same thing he'd felt in Purgatory.

It was hopeless. In every pursuit Dean Winchester had ever encountered, he'd never been the defenseless one—never once did he feel vulnerable, or fearful to lose them. Melody was so much more than any of them were. The only woman who could have even remotely compare would have been Lisa, and even then Melody was on a whole entirely different level.

And still he found himself at her door at two in the morning. Knocking. Vulnerable. Eyes red from lack of sleep and maybe a bit of crying—he wasn't sure. All he knew was he had to make things right.

Melody stirred at the sound of the knock on her door. She slid her nine-millimeter out from under her pillow, and moved cautiously towards the door. She stood on her tippy toes to look through the smudged peep hole, only to find Dean in a sweater and his sweatpants that she loved so much. She let out a sigh of relief and contempt at the fact that he was waking her up at ungodly hours. After removing the chain, she swung the door open and turned on her heels before he could even open his mouth, retreating back to her bed.

"I could've been an axe murderer."

She held her handgun up showing that she was prepared, locking the safety back before sliding it under her pillow and crossing her legs in front of her. "What do you need." Her words were less of a question and more of a command to speak.

"We need to talk."

Melody wore a look of bewilderment as he suggested speaking to her at the asscrack of dawn. "Have you actually lost your mind," she scoffed. "No wait, don't answer that, because you might shoot me."

Dean moved closer to her bed. All she could see was the outline of his body silhouetted by the light of the moon that shone behind him. "That's what we gotta talk about," he countered, sitting in front of her. "It wasn't me pointing that gun at you. You know better than that. Did I say what I was really feeling? Absolutely. I'm never going to not be pissed that you were seeing Greg." Dean could just barely see a look of hurt and rage cover her face, so he quickly continued. "The fact that some other guy was making you happy and giving you everything you deserve will always piss me off, because I know I'll never be that for you. You are so far out of my league, Melody Rose, and it drives me crazy. Honestly, you deserve to be with a guy like Greg and I think that's what gets me. I've got no clue why you'd pick me—pick this life—over him."

"Why can't you just be happy that we're here together," Melody groaned. "I'm here. I knew without a doubt it my mind that I wanted to be with you. Not with Greg, and not with anybody else. I'm tired of the pent up anger, and the secrets. I won't keep letting you pity yourself, and blaming Sam for trying to exist happily in a world where his brother was dead and gone."

Dean was flustered, never really enjoying to admit that he was in the wrong—or really having feelings, for that matter. He was just glad Melody was even speaking to him after yesterday's events. He slowly crawled over the empty space in her bed and gently rested his head in her lap. "I'm sorry, Mel," he whispered. "I don't think I could've lived with myself if yesterday had gone any different. If I'd actually..."

"Yeah, me either."

He raised his head up, looking flatly at her, only causing a fit of laughter to break down her stone cold exterior she'd fought so hard to put up. Leave it to Dean Winchester to obliterate her defenses time and time again. Really and truly, nobody got her the way he did. One look, and he knew just what she was thinking, or feeling.

"I'll do better," he murmured, holding her gaze. "About the...the communicating, and dwelling on the past, the secrets. All of it." His fingers sunk into the skin on her thigh. It seemed as though he was afraid she would vanish at any given moment. Life was too short to focus on things that nobody could have changed. Even if they knew that he was stuck in Purgatory, it was likely that they wouldn't have been able to get him out anyway.

Melody calmly ran her hands through his hair, staying quiet for a moment. She knew that Dean would never consciously shoot her because of a fit of jealousy, so why was she finding it so hard to just move on from it? Maybe because in a normal life, your boyfriend would never openly pull a gun on you because you tried to move on while he was stuck in Purgatory. Her conscience reminded her. My life stopped being normal the day my parents were killed by demons and Bobby Singer adopted me. She snapped back to herself. She shifted herself down lower onto the bed, getting at eye level with him while laying on her side. "I want to be with you, because being with anyone else just doesn't make sense," she murmured softly, taking her turn in being vulnerable. "Not when you're here. Alive. This is the life I was meant to lead. You know there's no such thing as coincidences. My dad finding me. Your dad ditching you there when we were growing up. Me choosing this lifestyle. This is what I want. You, this life, Sam and Blair. You guys are all I have left. I didn't think I was going to make it through his death, and really, I don't think I would have if it weren't through the three of you. I'll do better about my random fits of rage and insecurity over literally nothing."

She moved in close, nuzzling into his chest and sliding her hand up the back of his white shirt. Overwhelming calmness replaced the anxious and hallowed chest feeling she'd been holding onto. Dean was still gripping her tight. Only then was he aware of how much he'd taken advantage of the steadiness she was able to provide for him. When it felt like waves were drowning him as they crashed violently onto shore, just the feeling of her always-chilled hands pressed against his skin was all it took to ease the sinking feeling he'd have from time to time. Even just the steadiness of her breathing was better for his sanity than any kind of therapy could have provided. "Marry me." His voice was barely a whisper, but even if it hadn't been, she was fast asleep, completely oblivious to Dean's words.

They regrouped back at the cabin in Montana, having no clue where to go from where they were currently stuck at as far as finding Kevin. Dean took Sam's advice, and came clean about the Benny situation to Melody and Blair. They had all the right in the world to know just what it was that was able to pull Dean out of Purgatory.

"S-so, you let a vampire's soul, or essence or whatever the hell, hitch a ride back to life," Blair blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. "And you didn't gank him? What the hell is that about?"

Melody was taking deep breaths, trying her hardest to hold her end of the promise of not immediately choosing anger. "I-why?"

"Because, honest-to-whatever-the-hell-celestial-being-is-listening, he is the only reason I even made it out," he explained to them. "It was a...a gate, I guess you could call it. Only humans could pass through."

"But he's out there, killing people," Melody countered, narrowing her eyes. "He's the kind of thing we go out and kill, Dean."

Dean was unbothered, already knowing this was how they were going to react before he even opened his mouth to speak. "Benny ain't like that," he objected. "He's not living off human blood. Now, if he trips up and some other hunter catches up to him, so be it."

"But it won't be you," Blair deducted, crossing her arms in contempt. When realization hit her that Sam knew the entire time, she spun on her heels, shooting daggers his way. "You knew, and you kept it to yourself. Really?"

Sam's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "B, I-,"

Melody pinched the bridge of her nose, trying her hardest to consider Dean's thought process when he decided to keep Benny, a vampire, alive. What it all came down to was loyalty. That's was the biggest thing that made Dean who he was. "Guys," Melody interrupted what was sure to breakout in an argument. "Benny could have easily killed Dean in Purgatory. I mean, human blood in a place only monsters were damned to? He was a gold mine. Instead, he helped him get out. Without...Benny, Dean wouldn't be here right now."

Dean let out a sharp breath of relief that she understood—or was at least trying to understand where he was coming from. He'd assured her that was the last of any secrets he'd had. From then on out, he would be an open book with her. It just wasn't work losing her over—none of it was. "I've got to run to the store for beer, anybody need anything?" He wanted to give them time to stew over everything he'd dropped on them, and he really did need more beer.

Melody looked around at the other two, who silently shook their heads in response and turned back to Dean. "If I send you a very detailed description of what I need, can you get it from the drug store?"

"Yeah...?" He raised an intrigued eyebrow in response.

She said nothing more, as he walked out of the door. The image of Dean frantically sifting through boxes of tampons in the drug store popped into her head, making her chuckle to herself. As promised, though, she sent an extremely detailed message, including a picture, as well as the location in the store he would find them.

Dean was surprisingly calm at the situation as he walked into the store. He didn't need a picture, really. They'd lived together altogether a year now, and he'd seen the boxes from time to time, but she'd never actually asked him to buy them.

Apparently it was rather endearing that he would be buying feminine products for his girlfriend, or, at least judging by the number of 'aww's and 'how sweet' murmurs he heard around him as he proceeded towards the checkout area. Was this not a norm? If it wasn't, why?

On the way back to the cabin, Dean was listening to his favorite classics, and going to town on a bag of chips. There was a man walking on the side of the road which wasn't too odd, considering there was a walking trail about a mile back from the road he was on. But what really caught him off guard was when he looked in the rear view mirror. He slammed on his breaks, panicked. He swore on his life that the mirror caught the reflection of a disheveled Castiel, whom he'd thought he'd lost in Purgatory. However, when he got out of the Impala, the person was gone. He jogged into the direction the man had been in, but no sign.

That was on his mind the entire way back to the cabin. It didn't seem like a hallucination, but what else could it have possibly been? Castiel was gone. As unfortunate as that may be, he was.

Dean was still collecting himself when he got back to the cabin, and Melody could see it. "You okay," she peered. "You look like...well, I'd say like you've seen a ghost, but you'd be thrilled if that were the case."

He forced a bit of laughter out, shaking his head. "I'm cool," he lied, genuinely feeling like he was being haunted. "What's up?" He turned away from where he'd set the beer on the counter, back to Blair and Sam who were both looking at a computer screen, opening his bag of chips back up. Melody heard the crinkle of the bag and immediately faced him again, batting her eyes as they flicked from the bag back to him. He stopped mid chew, realizing what she wanted. "You said you didn't want anything." Her face fell a bit, only to light up like a Christmas tree when he reached into the bag and tossed her a bag of her own. "Luckily, I know how you are."

"This kid vanished from preschool," Blair spoke, keeping her eyes planted on the computer. "Right as he vanished, some whack tornado came that lasted about thirty seconds, then bam, back to perfect weather. Similar things have happened in other places."

"In Tulsa, a bus driver vanished and a river gets overrun with frogs," Sam added on. "New Mexico—a mailman disappears, the earth splits open."

Dean raises his eyebrows, acknowledging that it sounded like their kind of gig. "You thinking demons?"

Sam sighed, seeming only half sure of himself. "Possibly, but...I mean, this stuff was major. These people have nothing in common. No religious affiliations, different hometowns, different ages. Why would demons want them?"

"Why do demons want anything?" Melody's shoulders shrugged as she popped a chip in her mouth. "We doin' this?"

Sam nodded, shutting his computer. "Sounds like it."

Melody set her chips on the table, throwing her hair up into a bun on her head. She'd already gotten into her leggings and one of Dean's shirts when she got up this morning—she was itching to go somewhere. Anywhere. It had been weeks since their last hunt, and still having no word on Kevin, she was starting to get antsy.

The ride was about a day's drive south. It was dark by the time they found a motel on the outskirts of town. "Blair and I will take the lead on this one," Melody told the guys, who were clearly objective. "It's eight o'clock at night. You think this woman is going to take kindly to Bigfoot and the Jolly Green Giant knocking on her door? Probably not."

Dean grumbled under his breath as he fished his keys out of his pocket for her. He knew she was probably right, but that was besides the point. He never cared much for following anybody's lead, but if it had to be anyone, at least it was her's.

The girls got ready in a swift thirty minutes and they were ready to go. "Text as soon as you know something," Dean instructed, to which she gave a careless thumbs up as she walked out of the room.

She climbed into the driver's seat of the Impala. She absolutely loved driving the old car. Dean would never admit it, but watching her drive his car was even more enjoyable to him than actually driving it.

Mrs. Hagar lived smack dab in the middle of a suburb filled with houses surrounded by white picket fences. No matter what, Melody knew she never wanted to be one of those Suburban Housewives. She shuddered, even, at the thought.

The girls walked side by side onto the porch. There was no immediate answer when Melody knocked, but a frantic looking woman peered around the corner, looking through the glass of the door at them. They flashed their FBI badges and somewhat-warm grins, and Mrs. Hagar began to cautiously move towards the door.

Leaving the chain on the door, the woman looked between them with her lips pressed into a firm line. "Agents Roth and Malloy," Blair introduced them. "We'd like to speak to you about Aaron Webber's abduction."

Mrs. Hagar's face fell, and Melody couldn't help but notice she seemed anxious. "Like I told the police," she sighed. "One minute I was taking Aaron to get cleaned up, and the next minute I woke up in a park three blocks away."

"Can you think of any reason why somebody would want to harm him," Melody asked, keeping her eyes glued onto the older woman's. She was a natural when it came to reading between the lines.

She narrowed her eyes. "He's five," she scoffed. "Who would want to intentionally harm a five year old?"

Blair lifted her phone to her ear, pretending to be on a call. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..." If she were a demon, that line would have definitely revealed that to them.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Hagar looked over to Blair, looking both irritated and uncomfortable.

"It's code for your own safety," Melody lied on a whim. "So that you can't reveal anything under enhanced interrogation. So, when you woke up on the floor, were their any signs of struggle?" She was quick to turn the subject around from Blair's exorcism.

The woman shook her head. "Smell like sulfur?" Blair chimes in, hanging up her phone.

Her face turned deathly pale at the mention of sulfur. "H-how did you know that?"