Wayward •𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕•

eighteen

"Where the hell is he?" Melody hissed, busting through the doors. It was really shaping up to be one hell of a day.

The right hand of Plutus extended an invitation to Kevin to headline at his auction, where one of the most sought after items were being sold: The Word of God. Coincidentally, the same Word that Kevin swore was safe—until it got stolen by some junkie and pawned off by yet another junkie.

Of course, they went, prepared to bid whatever it took to get the tablet. Only to discover that their familiar currency was not what the God Plutus was after. Once they discovered Kevin was also up for bid with the tablet, Kevin's mother offered her own soul as a trade. This was an offer the God could not refuse.

According to the note he left while 'saying goodbye' to his mother in Dean's five minute allotted time slot, Kevin and his mother darted, and they shouldn't come looking for them, as since there was no tablet, they had no use for him.

"Crowley's still after him, what was he thinking?" Sam asked, furious as well.

Dean looked down at the note, shaking his head. "He's thinking that anyone I don't need anymore, ends up dead." His gaze seemed distant—like he was there, but not.

Melody looked up at him with a twinge of sympathy. It was a switch up from the cold shoulder she'd been giving him for the past three days.

"Come on, that's not true," Sam shook his head.

Dean cleared his throat, nodding. "Yeah, right," he responded half-heartedly. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"That's twice now, that he's burned us," Dean sighed, looking around the motel room that Kevin's fake credit ID claimed he'd paid for today. "Shame on you." He turned to face his brother.

"No, no, no," Sam objected. "I was the one that said he set us up."

Melody interjected. "I believe you said, 'I wonder if Kevin is setting us up.' Then you started in with the techno card babble. That was like, two states ago."

"She's right," Dean agreed.

"Shut up," Blair and Melody chorused, for different reasons.

Sam sat on one of the beds, shaking his head. "Either way," he sighed. "He's not here. Maybe if you hadn't tried to kill his mother."

Dean twisted a cap on the beer, groaning. He'd heard this lecture half a dozen times in that day alone. "It was Crowley. In a meat suit. No different than any other we've ganked."

"Apparently to Kevin, there's a difference," Blair shrugged. "I couldn't imagine why. Oh yeah, maybe because it's his mother."

Dean's phone started to ring from his pocket, causing Melody to tense up. "Hold that thought," he said. "You know what, actually, don't hold that thought. Hello?" He answered the phone. "Hold on, there's not enough bars."

Melody's eyes raked after him, as he walked outside. Instantly, she pulled her own phone out to find that he was completely full of shit. Five bars inside the room. He was keeping something from her—something from all of them. The thought alone was enough to make her blood boil.

"What the hell do you mean, you have to go," Melody didn't bother keeping her voice low. "Go where? And why?"

Dean was shoving things in the trunk of the Impala, contemplating what the hell to say next. He discovered recently that there had never been anything in his life he hated more than lying to Melody. "Do you trust me?" He turned on his heels to face her.

Melody was furious. All of the secret phone calls, keeping her in the dark, and now this? It was all too much too fast. "Usually, Dean, that answer would be wholeheartedly, undoubtedly yes." Her voice cracked, further signifying the hurt she was feeling. "But as of the past few days...I don't know if I do."