The Final Destruction 2

by Amelia Esla

  The house was two stories, but it was pretty large. There were several rooms and they had to clear them all before they could sleep.

  They were still awkwardly silent as they searched through the house.

  Megan wandered into one of the bedrooms. Her hands were both clasped around her gun, holding onto it for dear life. She thought she could hear something coming from the bathroom. She gulped, checking behind her. She was upstairs, and both the boys were downstairs. She wasn't about to call them up here because she was scared.

  She tip-toed quietly to the bathroom door, which was firmly shut. She could hear someone, or rather something, moving around on the other side.

  Megan realized she was holding her breath, and she had to make herself breath out. "Hello?" No one answered. She raised her voice a little. "Hello? Are... are you alive in there?"

  There was no answer, but the noise inside stopped. Megan swallowed hard, knowing ahead of time that she would regret this decision. She grasped the handle with one hand, her knuckles going white in the process.

  "One... two...three!"

  She swung open the door, gun up and ready to shoot, and immediately froze. It was a zombie alright. A gross, decaying body growling in the corner. But by her size and appearance beneath the rotting flesh, Megan recognized it to be a little girl. One who had not made it.

  Megan stared at it, and it stared back. For a moment, she thought it wasn't going to attack her. Like somehow, that little, innocent girl was still in there, and wasn't going to hurt her. But then it leapt forward.

  Megan shot three times just to be sure. The zombie girl fell backwards, dead (again). It hadn't even gotten close enough to grab at Megan.

  It wasn't a little girl anymore. And neither was Megan.

  …

  Sam went to bed as soon as it got dark outside. He didn't want it to be awkward with Dean, and he wanted to think things through some more before he talked to him again.

  That left Megan and Dean alone. They were sitting beside each other on the couch downstairs, thinking.

  "I could really use a beer right now," Dean sighed. They had found old, warm beer around sometimes, but for the moat part they'd only been drinking water. And not a lot of it.

  Megan smiled. "Is that what you miss most? Beer?"

  "No. But it's close. I miss living people. I miss TV. I miss women." Dean smirked.

  Megan rolled her eyes. "I miss not knowing how to shoot a gun. And not knowing about monsters." Megan let her gaze fall to the floor. "I didn't have a very exciting life like you two. But it was good. It was quiet. I miss that."

  "I miss that too. I miss life being quiet." Dean said, softly.

  Megan looked back up to him. "I thought you've always been hunting. Since you were four."

  Dean shrugged. "Well, yeah. I don't really remember much before then. But... somehow I still miss it."

  It was like Dean had a gravitational pull. Megan felt herself being drawn to him, both literally and metaphorically. She couldn't put her feelings for him into words, but maybe she could with this.

  She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. His lips were chapped, but she figured hers were, too. She loved it anyway. Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her onto his lap. She swung her leg over his waist.

  Dean didn't think, he just did. He ran his fingers down her back, playing with the hem of her shirt. He could feel his heart racing as he sank into the warmth of her body.

  "Dean," Megan breathed, pulling away slightly. "Dean, wait."

  Dean stopped, leaving his hands resting on her hips. "What's wrong?"

  "I... I can't do this."

  Dean sighed, nodding.

  "No, Dean. It's not like that. I want to, I do." She climbed off of his lap and sat on her knees. She intertwined her fingers in his. "But if your time is up, and you're just gonna... accept it... I can't."

  "Megan, you don't understand-"

  "Understand what? I've heard you and Sam. Do you actually think figuring out me is more important than saving you?"

  "It's not that simple, Megan." Dean argued. "This... deal affects Sammy, too. You know that."

  Megan sighed, letting go of Dean. "Yeah, I know that. It's not that I blame you, Dean. I admire your loyalty to Sam, and I'd never ask you to go against that. But you're going to be dead in a year because of it. And I can't do this knowing that..."

  Dean understood. She didn't want to get anymore attached to someone with an expiration date like that. "It's okay, Megan. I understand."

  "I'm sorry... I'm gonna... I'm gonna go to sleep, I think. Good night, Dean." Megan got up quickly and went upstairs.

  "Night..."

  There were two bedrooms upstairs. One Sam was in, and the other where Megan had found the girl. She opened the door to the later, and realized she'd never be able to sleep in there. Besides, Dean would have to sleep somewhere, too.

  So instead, she knocked on Sam's door. "Yes?"

  She opened it, and found Sam sitting on the bed with his father's journal open in his lap. "You're still awake?"

  "Yeah, I was just... reading. What's up?"

  "Oh, I, uh, I'm going to sleep, but... the other room..."

  Sam nodded. He knew about the girl in the room. They had cleared out the body but... still. She was really young. "You want me to leave?"

  "No, no it's okay. I don't mind sharing. If you don't, anyway."

  "No problem. It's a queen." Sam smiled, putting the journal down.

  Megan smiled. "Thanks."

  Sam moved over onto one side of the bed, and Megan curled up on the other. "Night, Sam."

  "Good night, Megan."

  …

  Megan woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. As soon as she shot up, sweating and breathing heavily, she couldn't remember what it was about. Either way, she had a bad feeling.

  Sam had finally fallen asleep. He had slept on top of the covers, on his back. He was fine.

  Megan crawled out as quietly as she could, and snuck out the room. She went to the other bedroom, but the door was still open. "Dean?" She whispered. No reply.

  She went downstairs, but she didn't see him in the living room, either. "Dean? You here?" She called a little louder, but was still met with silence.

  When she was sure he wasn't inside, she began to get worried. What had happened to him? Where could he have gone?

  She went outside and searched around. There was a woodsy area behind the house, but the rest was open fields. "Dammit, Dean..." She cursed when she still didn't see him. That meant they'd have to go into the woods. But she had to find him. He could be in trouble.

  "Dean? Dean!" She called.

  She wasn't very far, and had gotten no closer to finding him, when she heard some shuffling behind her. She froze, her heart seemed to stop beating. She hadn't brought her gun. Idiot! She hadn't brought anything.

  "Dean?" She turned around and came face to face with a zombie.

  She screamed.

  …

  Sam heard the scream from inside the house. He recognized it to be Megan. She wasn't in the bed anymore, and the voice seemed to be far away.

  He jumped out of the bed and sprinted downstairs. She wasn't there either. She was outside.

  "Megan!" He heard a scream again, and he followed it to her. He saw her a ways into the woods, with a 300 pound zombie on top of her.

  He ran, crashing into the zombie with all his weight and sending them both flying. He realized as he did that that he hadn't brought a gun or knife, or anything.

  "Sam! Watch out!"

  He heard Dean's voice, and he immediately ducked, rolling over towards Megan.

  Dean shot several times at the zombie, who fell back into a lump.

  As soon as the zombie was dead, they both turned their attention to Megan.

  Sam was already beside her. He crawled the few inches toward her and couldn't help his gasp.

  There was a distinct bite mark on her shoulder and gashes going
down her arms and chest. There was so much blood he could barely make out the injuries.

  "Oh my God..." Dean knelt down beside her. "Megan..."

  Megan's eyes were closed, and she was barely breathing. "We need to get her inside, Dean. Now."

  Dean didn't move. He just stared at her. "Sammy, she's..." He pointed to the bite mark. They both knew what that meant. It didn't matter if she survived the blood loss or the injuries themselves. She only had a few days before...

  "I know. Come on, Dean."

  8- Bitten

  "Here, put pressure on her shoulder." Sam rummaged through his bag and found a couple rags. They weren't as clean as he'd have liked, but it was the best they could do. He handed one to Dean, and ripped the top part of her shirt, revealing the mark. Dean wrapped the rag on it, and attempted to stop the bleeding. Then Sam got to work on her arms and sides.

  The gashes weren't all that deep, luckily. Sam did his best to clean them and bandage them up. "What are we going to do, Sam?" Dean asked frantically. He was trying to clean up her shoulder, and it was clear that it was a bite. "There's nothing we can do..."

  "We'll figure it out, Dean... why was she even outside? Why were you outside?"

  "I was taking a walk," Dean answered quickly. "I don't know why she was out there."

  "Okay, let's try and bandage her shoulder. There's not much of the tape left, but we can use another rag. Here..."

  He managed to patch her up and stop the bleeding, but all the while he knew it was hopeless. She'd be dead within the next two nights. She'd be worse than dead.

  They laid her down as comfortably as they could in the bedroom, unsure of what else they could do.

  Neither wanted to say the inevitable. She was going to die. There was no stopping it, now. It was only a matter of days.

  "What do we do?" Sam asked, quietly. "What do you do when there's nothing you can do?"

  "There's got to be something..." Dean shook his head. "There has to be."

  "She's bitten, Dean. You know what happens. It's going to be a painful process. She's only going to get worse, until..." Sam let his voice trail off, his point made.

  Suddenly, from the bed, they both heard coughing. "Megan!" They shouted simultaneously, rushing to her side.

  Megan moaned, trying to roll over. "Ah... ow that hurts..."

  "Megan, try not to move." Dean rolled her on her back. "Try to lay still."

  Megan opened her eyes and saw the two of them hovering over her with worried faces. "Jesus Christ... what happened?"

  Sam and Dean exchanged glances, but didn't answer her. Megan quickly looked down, and saw the bandages all over her body. She remembered going after Dean in the woods, and she remembered the zombie. "A zombie attacked me." She spoke slowly, trying to figure it out. "Did it..." Oh, shit... "Did I get bit?"

  "I'm so sorry, Megan."

  Megan closed her eyes. She could feel a dull, stinging pain in her shoulder, and she knew she was right. "So I'm going to die?"

  Dean wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her that there was a way to fix it, to save her. But he knew there wasn't. There was nothing they could do.

  "If there was something we could do..."

  "I know," Megan opened her eyes again. "It's okay. Thanks for patching me up, but..." There's no point. "I've never seen... no one ever, uh... what's going to happen to me?"

  Sam glanced at Dean. "You'll, uh, you'll start to feel sick. A fever, probably nausea. And then you just fall asleep..."

  "And wake up a monster." Megan added bitterly.

  "It won't be you." Dean corrected.

  "Yeah but it will be my body. And my only goal will be to... to... eat." She protested, sitting up slightly. "I don't want to be that. I can't-" She cut herself off. She looked up at Dean. "Please, Dean."

  It took him a second to realize what she was asking him. "No, Megan. I can't do that. I won't."

  "Dean, wait-"

  "No! Megan. I'm not killing you."

  Megan sighed. She was going to be dead in two days at the most. It didn't matter how she died. It mattered whether she was going to wake up again. "Sam, you have to understand."

  Sam widened his eyes. "I... I don't know..."

  "I'm going to die, anyway! I'm dead! It's over for me, guys! I just don't want to sit here and die slowly..." She looked to both of them, but they both turned away. Neither would do it, and honestly, she couldn't blame them. "Fine. Just... give me a gun."

  "Megan-"

  "Give me it, and leave. I'll do it..."

  …

  Dean and Sam waited outside for a gunshot. They had been reluctant, but in the end, it wasn't their choice, it was Megan's. So they stood by the door. Sam with tears in his eyes, and Dean refusing to look over at him. And they waited.

  It never came.

  After a few minutes, they knocked on the door and went in. Megan was sitting on the bed, holding her knees close to her chest and sobbing quietly. The gun was laying on the bed beside her.

  They sat down with her, and waited for her to get worse.

  9- Death Becomes Her

  Megan got sick.

  She felt like something was inside her, ripping her apart from the inside. She had a fever, and was constantly throwing up.

  It was hard for everyone involved. But the boys powered through, knowing the end was near for her. Any moment could be her last. Every time she fell asleep, they were worried she wasn't going to wake up.

  And then, one day, she got better.

  They didn't know how to explain it, but she started to feel better. Her fever went down, she felt comfortable. She slept soundly. Sam and Dean were ecstatic, of course, that she was okay. But it came with the realization far more ominous.

  Megan was immune.

  "What does that mean?" Megan was thankful, of course, at the sudden turn of events. But she was also worried out of her mind. Whatever she was, she was powerful. How could such a powerful being not know what they were? How could she have thought she was human this whole time?

  "It means you're one hell of a... whatever it is you are." Dean stood by as Sam checked her up.

  Sam stood and nodded to them. "You seem to have recovered completely. I can't explain it, but you're fine."

  They didn't waste anytime getting the hell out of there. No one wanted to stay any longer once Megan was okay.

  They still didn't have a car, so they just had to keep walking, never looking back.

  …

  "God damn it!" Dean yelled, kicking the van with his foot, which was a mistake because it hurt like hell. This van was the third car they had come across that was completely unusable. At this rate, they were going to end up walking the journey back.

  "It's okay, Dean, we'll find one that works. We just have to keep walking." Sam was just as frustrated at Dean was, but this wasn't the time to throw a fit over it.

  "I know, but..." Dean sighed, giving in. "Fine. Let's just... go."

  Megan was trailing behind the boys. She was still uneasy about her recovery. She could feel the dull sting in her shoulder still, but it was much weaker. It was like something was healing her, albeit slowly.

  She slid her hand beneath her shirt, feeling the gashes. They had all but disappeared. It had only been two days. But they were practically gone.

  She was also thinking about Dean. She thought about what she said to him, about him dying. She couldn't help but see the irony inher almost dying the next morning. Maybe she was wrong... maybe she should've given him a chance.

  Megan wished she could talk to someone about this. But there just weren't any options. The only people they had come across lately were lunatics with a ghost problem. She wasn't sure she'd ever find anyone other than the boys.

  They could see some buildings in the distance. It looked like a suburban area, which was good for them. That meant a lot of houses, but also a lot of zombies.

  Dean was leading the group, but he no longer felt in charge. He felt like everything was spinning out of his con
trol. He had barely saved Sam from his demonic fate, and he never would have been able to without Megan. And Megan... she was a whole nother story.

  Ignoring their own personal problems, (which he was absolutely doing, by the way,) she seemed to be just as messed up as Sam was. She was immune, which was good for them, but still. She was powerful. She was special. But she also had no clue what she was, and that was scary.

  They were pleasantly surprised by the small amount of zombies they ran into once going in to the neighborhood. It was fortunate, but it still made Dean nervous. That might mean someone else was here, clearing them out.

  "Isn't that a good thing?" Megan asked. "That there is someone else here? Living?"

  "You'd think so," Sam muttered, agreeing with Dean's hesitance. "But just cause they're living, doesn't mean they're friendly."

  There was one big house secluded from the rest. It rested on a cul-de-sac, and had a large, intact fence surrounding it. There were some zombies outside, clawing at the fence, but they easily took them out.

  "This would be a nice place to crash for awhile." Dean hooped the fence, helping Megan over as Sam did the same.

  "What if it's already... occupied?" Megan wondered, cautiously. If they were right and someone was living in the neighborhood, there was a good chance they were here.

  "We'll just have to keep our eyes open." Sam smiled to her. It didn't make her feel any better.

  They split up to search the house, which Megan figured was their first mistake. She was downstairs, and was confident no one else was there.

  And then she heard the front door open. It opened so slowly, that she figured she was lucky to have heard it at all. Whoever was walking in, didn't want to be heard. She quickly hid behind the wall of the hallway which led to the bedrooms. She could hear her heart beating, and she felt like it was beating a million miles a minute.

  She heard muffled footsteps getting closer to her, and she had to hold her breath to quiet herself.

  "I know you're behind the wall, so you might as well show yourself." A gruff voice came from behind her. She heard his gun click. "I ain't askin' twice."