Sammy

8. Terms and Conditions: Rescue Mission Edition

That afternoon dragged on like a bad Kenny Rogers song.  Melody stayed up in her room, but even so there was a thick air of tension suffocating the residents of Bobby's home.  Dean avoided talking as much as possible and when he did, all he let out were short answers.  He wanted to talk to Melody about what had happened, but at the same time he didn't want to push her into it.  He made the decision to try talking to her again in the late afternoon, just to be sure the storm had passed.

Six hours later, around four o'clock, Melody still hadn't come down and Dean deemed it the proper time to attempt talking to her again.  He quickly threw a jam sandwich together and then proceeded up to, what he called, the lion's den.  

Dean walked up the stairs as quietly as he could manage, being unnecessarily careful not to upset the sandwich plate.  He lightly tapped on the door, his door, and waited for a response.  "Come in," she said softly, almost too quiet for Dean to hear.  He opened the door to find Melody sitting on Sam's bed reading from yet another book.  Based on the mound of books around her, he assumed she'd been reading all this time, or at least the better part of it.  

"I, uh, brought you something," he said as he set the sandwich down on the crowded nightstand.

"I suppose you want to talk about my behavior," she whispered as she closed the book.  How did she even figure that out?  Dean made a few inarticulate noises before responding.

"Yeah, I guess.  Would you like to?" He saw tears start in her eyes again, for whatever reason, and she nodded slightly.  Dean sat down on his bed and faced her; hardly having time to get comfortable before Melody began speaking.

"I was mad, and jealous.  You were so focused on Sam, and even though you never really showed it around me I could tell.  I started thinking too much, opening up a little more, and trying to look like I was getting okay with everything because I knew it was what you wanted to see.  I thought you wanted a little victory in your life to amend what happened to Sam.  I thought you were going to just use me to get the information and then dump me back after you rescued Sam."  She stopped talking after that.  Should I say something now or wait a little longer?  I'll just ask.  Never hurts to ask.

"You done?" Dean inquired after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," she said softly, running a hand through her curly hair.  Melody's hair had improved greatly over the past few weeks.  Rather than the dull, dry, thin, rat's nest it had been, it was now slightly thicker, tamer, and the rich color of milk chocolate.  

"For starters, I am at fault in this situation.  I should have been more focused on you because who could have gone through your life and be okay in a matter of weeks.  In the beginning, yes you were a way to prove to myself, but I stand by what I said earlier.  I don't want that to be the reason anymore because you deserve better.  I will do my damndest to keep you alive for the sole reason that you deserve to have a better life and I want to help you get that.  I want to be a big brother to you and when we get Sam back, I'm gonna take you guys somewhere safe.  No more hunting, ever.  I'll get a job, you and Sam can make something of yourselves, and we'll be a family."  Dean could see tears flowing down her cheeks and wondered if he had gone too far.  Maybe he did, or maybe she was just overwhelmed at getting a chance at a stable life.  Dean gave her a box of tissues he found on the nightstand and waited unusually quietly for her to speak up again.

"Y-you mean it?" Melody asked after she had wiped away the tears.  

"Absolutely," Dean responded without missing a beat.  Melody's head dipped down in a kind of bow and nodded to herself.

"Thank you," she sniffed.  Dean smiled and sighed, that had gone a lot better than he had anticipated.  

He and Melody just sat on the beds for an hour or two after that just talking.  Dean was very careful to avoid certain topics that he thought would upset her, but she seemed to walk right into them anyway.  He couldn't really tell if their discussions bothered her or not, but he let her carry on talking about whatever.  After all, who was he to judge what she could handle?  Inevitably, they reached the topic of Sam and the plans to rescue him, but Dean didn't feel on elaborating much with her.

"Dean, please!" she begged, "I want to know about the plan!"

"Why?" Dean challenged.  If she could give him one good reason, he'd let her in on some of the more well-versed ideas.  If she could give him a good reason and a thick coating of persuasion, she might just get the full story.

"I want to know?" she stated, though it sounded more like a question.  Nope, not good enough.

"Is that your real reason?"

"Ummm, no," she answered, slightly dejected.  Melody sighed and confessed.  "I can help you get Sam back you know."

"How?"

"The place he's at, where I was at, I knew it well.  I remember where they took Sam and if he's not there, I have an idea of where he might be.  Also, I was the last person of the three of us to see him.  If he's going to be rescued, don't you think that maybe I should be a part of it?"

"I'm his brother, Melody.  I'm the one who's going to save him."

"The brother he hasn't seen since he was nine years old."

"He'll remember me."

"Will he?  Most people change over seven years.  What were you, eleven?"

"Thirteen."

"Whatever.  I've seen the picture and you don't look like you do now.  Maybe the hair and the facial structure, but anything else?  If you go in there alone, Sam might think you're a stranger who's coming for him again."  Dean sighed and thought it over.  Melody did have a point, he had changed quite a bit since that summer night and while she might not have known Sam for long, Sam would probably have a better chance of remembering her face than his.  He sighed again, much more dramatically this time, and made up his mind.

"Fine, you can come with me, but on some conditions."  Melody smiled and sat up a little straighter.  Dean gave a short laugh at her obvious enthusiasm and continued on.  "First of all, when we are in that building, you do whatever I tell you to do.  It may be crazy, or it may be fine, but we don't know so it's better to be safe than sorry.  Second, since Sam will probably be more comfortable around you, you'll have to stay with him on the way back here.  Third, you do not, and I repeat do not, get a say in the music.  My car, my rules, end of story."  Melody smiled brightly and took it all in eagerly, as if making a little list of notes in her head.  

"Okay, anything else?"

"Yeah, one more thing.  You need to make some progress."  Melody's face fell a little bit, which prompted Dean to elaborate quickly.  "You've been doing well, I think, and I'm proud of you.  Yeah, you've had your moments, but everyone gets those once in awhile.  Melody, you need to be prepared for Sam to not be in a very good condition physically, mentally, or both.  Got it?" he said softly, looking straight into Melody's eyes.  She nodded and Dean smiled weakly.  "Good.  And this, this isn't for Sammy as much as it is for you.  I want you to be better and I am willing to help you.  It's not going to be easy, but I will be here for you no matter what.  Shoulder to cry on, support system, punching bag, you name it and I'll be it."  Melody smiled at this, for whatever reason.

"So if I asked you  to be a footman, you would be footman?"

"If it makes you feel better, I'll be a footman.  You were going on about thinking you were being used as a resource, well now I want to be a resource for you," he said with a small smile on his face.  Melody got up from the bed and hugged Dean.

"Thank you," she whispered into his neck, "thank you so much.  I will get better, I promise."  Dean felt a few tears fall on his shirt collar and pulled away to look at her face.  For the upteenth time today, tears were indeed falling from her silvery eyes.  

"Hey, don't cry," he said as he wiped the tears from her cheeks, "you're gonna be alright Melody, I swear.  Do you want something to eat?  That sandwich doesn't look too good now."  At this, Melody broke into a somewhat watery laugh and looked at the visibly dry jam sandwich that still lay untouched on the nightstand.

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied through short spurts of breath.  "Food sounds good."  

"Okay, do you want to come down stairs with me to make something?"  She nodded her head and Dean shrugged.  "I'll get you when it's done then," he said as he got up and left the room.  Dean descended the staircase in a brighter mood.  For the first time since Sam was taken, things were finally starting to look better.