Author Note: this is an extremely long chapter, just warning you, so if you don't have much time you might want to break it up. Or, if you don't care for this episode, skip it. In the future, I may not be retyping all of the episodes, just the ones I find necessary for Monica's story. So, please enjoy, and don't forget to let me know what you think. If you'd prefer I can always post in tow parts. So, thanks so much for reading, and I'll let you get to it!
Monica lay on the floor, trying to get a quarter that had fallen between the cracks. It was the only thing to do anymore. She had read all the interesting books and done all the interesting things, and now all she had left was digging money out of dirty concrete.
Dean walked into the room. "Jeez, what's up with the sugar?" He murmured.
Monica looked to her brother. Jack was pouring what had to have been at least a cup of sugar into his drink.
"Without my powers, everything tastes different. So, I can't get this how I like it."
"Seen Sam?" Dean was getting himself a cup of coffee."
"He went to meet up with Charlie."
Monica was half-listening to the conversation as she picked at the quarter with a toothpick. It snapped in half.
"--I bet they're doing something really exciting right now."
She paused for a moment to think about that. Maybe they were in the middle of a fight right now. She smiled slightly. Hunting looked exciting, despite its dangers.
"--Sam wanted someone around when you came back." Jack paused for a moment. "He's worried about you."
Monica pulled out her thinnest knife and jammed at the quarter.
"Yeah, sounds like him," Dean said.
"Dean, what happened with Michael--no one blames you."
Dean glanced at the Nephilim. "Cool. Well, I blame me, so..."
Jack looked back to his cup. He coughed a few times. Monica's insides clenched with worry, and even Dean looked a little concerned.
"Still with that cough, huh?"
"Maybe I'm allergic to sitting around doing nothing." Jack looked at him pointedly.
Monica sat up. If they were going to do something, she was coming with. There's only so many times a person can read about killing things that shouldn't even exist.
Dean looked at his watch. "Alright. What do you want to do?"
Hunt, Monica thought. Or go hiking. Or skiing. But that looks hard...
"Hunt," Jack said.
Monica's eyes widened briefly. Great minds do think alike.
"Sam says I can't go alone," Jack continued. "But Cass and I, we've been working cases."
Dean just looked at him. "And Cass, he said you've been doing good on those. No offense, but Cass is an insurance policy on those hunts." Dean looked at him understandingly. "Sam's just trying to keep you safe. He's a smart guy." Dean nodded, confirming his own statement.
Jack slid a newspaper towards Dean. "Local man dead with what looks like bite marks on his neck. And other people have gone missing too."
Dean thought for a moment. "Sam's not gonna like it."
"Sam doesn't have to know."
Dean grinned the slightest amount, then glanced at Monica, who was still picking at the quarter. "And what do you want to do with her?"
"She can stay home. If I can stay home alone, she can."
Monica spun around. "I'm not staying home. If you're going, I'm going."
Dean smirked. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. You're a kid."
"I'm the most powerful kid in the universe."
Dean quirked an eyebrow sarcastically. "Okay. Say I bring you along. What are you going to do? Sit in the car the whole time?"
"No, I'm going to hunt. I make a great fake FBI agent."
"You look fifteen, at the most."
"So? I'm a wonder with makeup. I can make myself look at least seventeen, and you can tell whoever it is, if they ask, that I'm your niece and got special clearance to go with since this is my passion. I'll be like your ride along agent in training."
Dean studied her for a moment. "No." He stood up and went to the fridge. "I'll go check it out by myself."
Jack shot his sister a, 'look what you did' glare that she ignored. "But we're supposed to have a partner for all hunts now, right? We can be hunting buddies."
Dean stared at him. "A, don't call it that. And B, you're gonna back me up?"
Jack looked slightly annoyed and ever more determined. "Dean, I need to do something."
"So do I." Monica walked to them. She had abandoned the quarter. Jack glanced at her for a moment in a way that said, 'get out of my speech.'
Monica gave him a smug look that said, 'make me.'
"You don't understand," Jack continued. "I could have killed Michael."
Michael. Monica flinched. She had arrived late enough to miss the latest Michael episode, but she'd heard plenty.
Dean looked down and sighed.
"Here," Jack continued. "When I was strong enough, I could've. But--there was so much going on--and then, everything else happened because I was distracted, and stupid, and--"
"Hey." Dean looked at him. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Neither did you." Monica could feel Jack's energy tighten. He was getting frustrated. "But that doesn't make it any easier, does it? So I can't just sit here, in the bunker, thinking about it all day. What I could have done differently, how I can't do anything about it now. But I can do this."
Monica looked at Dean, praying silently he would say yes.
"I can hunt," Jack ended, pinning Dean with soul-piercing eyes. "Give me a chance."
Dean thought for a moment. "Okay."
✴✴✴
An hour later they entered a small cafe. Monica tried to keep her pace even, her face calm. It was easier said than done. Every so often Jack gave her a, 'are you okay?' glance. She always returned it with a, 'stop treating me like I'm six. I'm fine,' glance.
"This was his favorite spot?" Dean asked, looking around the busy room.
"His obituary said he loved having breakfast here every morning. Which is sort of oddly specific."
Monica agreed. She knew she wouldn't ever have an obituary, but if she did, she wouldn't want her favorite place to eat in it.
"Yeah, well, young guy dies, they never fail to put in those things." Dean walked up to the counter. "Hi there." He pulled out his badge.
"Can I help you?" The brunette in front asked.
"Yeah. Agent Barry, FBI, this is my partner, Agent Charles, and my niece--she's sort of an agent in training--Rebecca."
Monica frowned. Rebecca? Just plain Rebecca?
"We're wondering if you could give us some details on a regular of yours. Winston Mathers."
"Sure, hon," the woman said, pouring coffee.
Monica missed what she was saying as she had suddenly become infatuated with a painting on the wall. She tilted her head, studying it until Jack nudged her with his foot. She looked back to the woman, eyes probably too focused. He wrote it down until Dean nudged him. Um, you're gonna want to give us a little more than that," he said, with a tight smile.
The waitress glanced at him. "Listen, deep state, flashin' a badge might work on people who don't have a working knowledge of the constitution." She looked at the door, then back at them. "That ain't me." She grabbed a tray. "Now, I gotta go earn some money."
"Or you can stay here and earn some money." Dean pulled out some bills and slid them towards her.
The woman thought a moment before tucking them in her apron. "He came in here every day like clockwork. You really wanna ask about Harper Sales. They had just started courting."
"What's courting?" Jack asked.
Monica wanted to kick him, even though, she, too, was curious.
"It's what you do before you start dating," Dean said.
"And that's the thing you do before the sex?"
Monica literally stepped on her foot to keep it from her brother's, though she would love more info on the topic. Monica's entire sex education had come from the dictionary. Let's just say it wasn't very satisfying.
The waitress shot him an odd look. "Sometimes you just have the sex," she said, leaning in close.
"Okay." Dean forced a tight smile. "Who's Harper Sales?"
After interviewing what seemed like a hundred people who all had the same story to tell, they took a break. Dean got pie. It was chocolate with what looked like toasted marshmallow on top. Monica didn't care what it was, she was just starving. She jammed nearly half of it into her mouth in one bite and closed her eyes. Heaven. No. From what she'd heard, heaven wasn't all that perfect. This was better.
"Eat up," Dean said. "Pie is important."
"Can I ask you about what Wanda said about courting? I mean, I've seen romantic movies but I've never experienced it unless what you said about Rowena and Gabriel counts."
Dean shook his head, mouth full of pie. "No definitely doesn't count. Look, I'll tell you everything sometime later when--" he gestured to Monica "--Isn't in the room. For now, we need to focus on Harper Sales. I mean, that's just too much bad luck for one person."
Monica was too high on pie bliss to even notice their conversation.
"Maybe she's not human," Jack suggested.
"That's what we're going to figure out."
"How?"
"You ever read a romance novel?" Dean asked, shoving more pie in his mouth.
"Okay." Dean looked at Jack. "Ready?"
He nodded.
"Good." Dean looked at Monica. "Stay in the car."
She frowned. "Hell no. I am not missing this."
Dean sighed. "Okay. You go in first, pretend to be some kid looking for a book. A few minutes after they leave, you come to me. Got it?"
Monica nodded. "Yep."
"Okay. Let's go."
Monica walked into the library and smiled at Harper before going to the romance section.
She watched Dean come in. "Harper Sales?" He pulled out his badge.
"Hi! Um, how can I help you?"
"Alright. FBI, got some questions about Winston Mathers." Dean put his badge away and turned to face her.
Harper's mouth opened slowly, her eyes full of shock. Clearly she wasn't anticipating this. "Oh, I already spoke to the police."
"Well, I'm not the police."
Harper leaned down and picked up her bag. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Well, I'm gonna need you to talk about it." Dean stepped in front of her path.
"Hello." Jack walked in. He looked to Harper. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm looking for the best book on the area's history?"
Harper blinked.
"Excuse me," Dean said, holding up his hand. "I was talking with her."
"Really? Because it doesn't look like she wants to talk to you."
Dean smirked slightly, glancing from Harper to him. He pulled out his badge. "Listen, I'm from--"
"FBI," Jack said. "Yeah, I heard. But, see, I haven't done anything wrong so you can't do anything to me. And if she doesn't want to talk to you..." Jack paused. "You can't make her. Not without arresting her. But, you're FBI, so you probably knew that already."
Dean nodded once, unconvinced. "Okay." He stepped towards Jack. "Why don't you back off, kid."
"No, you back off," Jack said. "Old man."
Monica bit her lip to keep from laughing. She slid up against the bookshelf for a better view of Dean's reaction.
Dean opened his mouth, then closed it. He straightened, surprised. Monica saw Harper smile.
"Old man?" Dean asked Jack, the shock still on his face.
"Yeah," Jack said defiantly. "That's right."
Dean stared at him. "Alright. This isn't over." He turned and left. Monica watched her brother hook up with Harper before going back outside. She found Dean in the Impala.
"What are you smiling at?" He asked her.
She slid into the passenger seat. "Why do you care, old man?"
Dean glared at her. She just beamed at him.
"Okay. Let's watch your brother."
They watched as Jack and Harper went down the sidewalk. "Alright, where we headed?" Dean began to drive slowly.
After a few minutes, they stepped out of the car, only to hear a guy scream and see a trash can tip over. The walked closer. Dean stopped to look at a crevice between two buildings. "Maybe you should go back to the car," Dean muttered.
"No. You'll need someone to save your ass. Besides, we both know whatever this is is no match for me."
Dean looked at her and narrowed his eyes. He sighed. "You might want to stop being so cocky about that."
He pulled out his gun and they walked through, only to see a dead man on the asphalt. Monica just stared at it, bored.
"What the hell is going on?" Dean whispered. "Come on. Let's go." Dean called Jack. No answer. He sighed. "Okay. Now we wait."
Ten minutes later, nothing. "Damn it, Jack, pick up the phone." Dean sent him a text that read, CALL ME NOW! Before furiously shoving his phone back in his pocket. Suddenly, it rang. In one fluid motion, Dean picked it up and shoved it to his ear. "Jack."
"Dean?" Monica could hear her brother's voice through the cellphone. "Um, I'm at Harper's place. The silver and holy water didn't do anything."
Monica stepped closer to the noise. This was getting interesting.
"She's not a demon. Where are you? Because Harper is not a monster, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure she's in love with me."
Monica smiled.
Dean just rolled his eyes. "That's not how it works."
"Okay--but she was looking at me with these--googly eyes and then she asked me--"
"Look, I promise Harper Sales is not in love with you, okay? Would you calm down?"
"Okay. But if she is, I need to know everything about sex. Go."
Monica's eyes widened at the possibility of info.
"Jack, listen to me," Dean continued. "The guy that she works with is dead. And I mean, fresh dead. Something bit out his throat. So we got bigger things to worry about right now."
"Okay," Jack said. "What should I do?"
"Well, something's definitely stalking Harper, or at least the people around her."
"You said that she had bad luck. Maybe she's cursed."
"Well, it seems like the guys around her are cursed."
"Guys like...me."
Monica's eyes flared in realization. Then she caught something out of the corner of her eyes.
"Yeah, look, just keep her there--"
"Dean--" The word had just left her mouth when it lunged.
"Run!" Dean yelled to her before bolting. Monica followed him. Had she been able to touch him, they could have teleported, but he was at least four feet ahead of her.
Then they reached Harper's apartment building. They flew up the stairs and to her door before Dean banged it open.
Harper screamed.
"No, no, it's okay," Jack said, looking from her to them. "We're here to help you."
"I'm Dean, this is Monica, we work with Jack," Dean grabbed a chair and shove it beneath the door handle. "We're not FBI, we're here to save lives, maybe even yours."
"Save me?" Harper looked panicked. "Save me from what?"
The thing banged against the door. Monica jumped. "That," she and Dean said at the same time, then glanced at each other.
"Who's out there?" Harper asked.
"It's not a who. First I thought it was a ghost until it punched me in the face." Dean looked back at them.
Had the situation not been what it was, that would have been kind of funny. Monica inched back towards her brother.
"A ghost?" Harper's voice was high with fear.
Jack turned to Harper. "No he's seen it, it's not a ghost."
Dean walked across the room and picked up a picture frame. "Yeah, but now I'm thinking something else." He turned to Harper. "Who is this?"
"It's my old boyfriend Vance," She said.
"How did he die?"
"Die? I think he lives in Connecticut."
"Not anymore."
"Harper!" The thing behind the door yelled.
"Vance?" Harper screamed.
"Vance."
"Vance." The word went around the room.
Monica raised her palms. "Can I just smite the thing already?"
Dean looked at her. "Can you do it without killing us?"
She thought. "Not unless it's right in front of me."
"Then we're doing something else."
Dean looked around the room and smiled when he saw a knife. "Looks like you get your zombie, kid," he said.
"Zombie?" Harper asked.
"No, he means--" Jack tried, but Dean cut him off.
"Silver can hurt it but there is only one way to stop these things." He stepped towards the door just as it banged open, and the thing walked in.
Monica bit back her scream.
Dean charged at it with the knife, slashing it once across the face.
"Jack! Get her and your sister out of here," He said, trying again.
Monica bolted out of the room ahead of the others, nearly flying down the stairs and out the door.
At some point, Jack and Harper stopped for a moment, but Monica kept running. All the way to the library, where Harper struggled with the keys for a moment.
"You didn't lock up?" Jack asked.
"Apparently my dead highschool boyfriend attacked us and I forgot," Harper replied, finally getting the door open.
They crouched behind a desk and waited. Monica tried to keep her breathing calm, her tears of fear back. The crying she succeeded with, but she was still shaking. Jack looked at her, a silent, 'it will be okay.'
She shot him a, 'I know that' followed by an, 'okay, maybe I don't know that.'
Jack squeezed her hands softly. She returned the gesture. After a few minutes, they dared to look out. A silence that was so calm it was unsettling.
"Don't worry," Jack whispered. "I locked it."
"Did you take the switch out of the lock?" Harper asked.
"What--what switch?"
Harper looked at him. "I'll get it."
"No, Harper, don't," Jack hissed, but it was too late.
She crawled to the door and pulled it out, then opened the door and let the thing in.
"Harper?" Jack whispered.
The thing handed her a book. "Oh, sweetie," she said, clutching it to her chest. She kissed him.
"What are you doing?" Jack asked.
"It's Vance," she said. "He's my boyfriend. He just gets a little jealous sometimes."
"But--he's dead. And stalking you."
"No, he's stalking you. It's a little game we play. Some people pretend to be naughty nurses, some people--"
And then, before she could finish, Monica raised her hand and shot a blast of light at the thing. She couldn't kill it, no, but weeken it? Sure.
Just then Dean ran into the library. He looked at Monica. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Just get it!" She closed her eyes and pushed harder. The zombie attempted to come at her, but she pushed it away with her other hand. It dove for Jack, who Monica guarded with another flash of light, giving him enough time to get to Dean.
"No! Vance!" Harper screamed. She lunged at Monica from the side, and, before Monica could stop her, knocked her over. She slammed her against the floor. "Vance, run!" She yelled, still slamming Monica.
Monica pulled her hand out from under her and aimed it at Harper. She almost touched her forehead when suddenly Vance yelled something and she jumped off and ran.
Monica scrambled to her feet and ran after Harper. Dean had Vance held down while Jack struggled to handcuff him. Monica was about to dive on him when Monica pulled her back and slammed her into the wall, so hard it knocked her out. She ran to Jack and Dean. "Are you okay?" Jack asked her.
"I'm fine," she said, holding the monster in place with her left palm. "Now what?"
Dean and Jack shared a glance. "Now we get this guy back where he belongs."
✴✴✴
Monica mindlessly shoved another Oreo in her mouth and tried to get over what happened earlier.
A zombie almost killed and ate my brother.
A zombie almost killed and ate me.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Jack sat beside her. "How are you doing?"
She looked at him. "How are you doing? You're the one who had a zombie lover for a girlfriend."
"But I asked first."
Monica sighed. "Are we really going to do this? I'm fine, Jack. I'm always fine. Now it's your turn."
"I'm okay."
"Good. Now, if it weren't for me, you never would have gone, so, I think you owe me."
"Um...if you wouldn't have been there Dean would have just taken me." Jack thought for a moment. "But since I am stuck with you, I suppose I owe you a thank you. So, thank you."
"You're welcome."
There was a moment of silence before Monica asked, "Jack? Was it good...being in love? I mean...did it feel nice? Like..." she tried to recall what the book had said. "Like a sweet taste of delicate passion?"
Jack looked at his sister weirdly.
"What? I read a book. So?"
He thought more a moment. "I guess. I mean, not the whole sweet desire thing, but...yeah. It was nice." He coughed a few times, causing Monica's eyes to go all worried puppy.
Jack turned to her. "I'm fine."
"Everyone says that."
"Well, I mean it."
There was another silence, in which Monica debated whether or not to say what she was thinking. "Um, Jack? I kind of feel sorry for Harper."
He blinked. "Why?"
"Because she's lost. She's just lost, and she needs help, but you can't get help for liking zombies. But now she's probably all hopeful about you, but obviously, you're not going to happen, and then she'll be broken."
Jack studied his sister. "You're right." He thought. "You always see that way, don't you? The shades of gray. Nothing is ever just a pure monster to you."
Monica nodded and Jack started coughing again, harder this time. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Jack pulled his hand away. It was speckled with blood. "I don't know," he said, locking eyes with her. Blood now streamed from his nostrils. Suddenly, he passed out cold.
"Jack?" Monica kneeled beside her brother and shook him. "Jack!" She looked around frantically. "Dean!" She screamed, adrenaline pouring down her veins, tears pricking her eyes. She grabbed her brother's hand and squeezed, trying frantically to heal him, but nothing happened.
Then Dean came running and suddenly he was pulling out his cellphone and yelling something to Sam, and Monica's consciousness just sort of faded until she was locked in a dark, safe corner of her mind.