Safe and Sound

Safe

A hint of wet dirt accompanied the air that suddenly ran into my nose, scorching and scratching at the flesh of my nose and throat as I took a breath, the first one I took in, oh, months? Years? I've lost count. I gasped, my eyes flying open, trying to identify any source of light in the darkness that surrounded me. I grinned though, because I was alive. 

My hands felt around the uncomfortable wooden box that held me, wood meeting skin. Air ran fast as I kicked the coffin, quickly trying to break the it open. The oxygen was running out fast, and I'll be damned if I let myself be beaten by something as simple as that. It had been hard enough to get back, and I'll make sure that I wouldn't return to Hell for a long time.

Finally I heard the sound of wood cracking as I kicked at the top of the coffin one more time. You felt dirt seeping in the small crack and falling inside. The smell of petrichor filled my nose; it must have rained earlier. It never rained in Hell.

After resting for a couple seconds, I started to kick again, keeping in mind that I didn't have a lot of time to get out. The cracks were slightly muffled, but they grew louder every time I kicked, and that was all that mattered. It took me a minute, but it was all worth it when a piece of wet wood fell down on top of my leg.

I shifted my body, changing positions so that I was now where my feet used to be. I swore under my breath that the coffin was too small, while also thanking this particular coffin for being so ancient that the wood was already rotting, making it easy for me to pull at the top. I sighed in relief when I was able to finally make a hole big enough for me to squeeze through.

Finally, I started to submerge into the abyss of soil. I clawed my way through the earth, holding my breath as I fought to break through the small roots of the new grass growing above me. I was close to the surface, I could feel it!

Suddenly, my fingers weren't surrounded by anything except for the air. With my last bit of strength, I pushed myself up, nails and hands clawing at the dirt.

Then the dirt was gone and I gasped and coughed, finally breaking through the ground. I quickly wiped as much dirt off my eyes as I could, groaning while hoisting the other side of my body away from the trap of mud.

I turned on my side and pulled myself up, not caring that I was covered in mud. I looked up and saw that I had mildly interrupted a funeral. The priest and the family looked up at me with their eyes wide open. I stood up shakily, then slowly walked over to them.

I grinned, then patted the priest on the back. "......I'm gonna need a drink, Padre." I finally said.

~X~

I had fifteen shots before Crowley came.

"Well, you've seemed to down those fast." Crowley's voice came from behind me. I rolled my eyes, then swallowed another shot and turned to face him. "I know. Good thing is, I can't get drunk any more."

"And why is that, darling?" Crowley asked, looking not even the slightest bit concerned. I leaned back against the bar, raised an eyebrow, then blinked and let my eyes go completely black. Crowley winced. "Ah. Sorry."

I let my eyes change back to normal as I shrugged. "Not entirely bad. I still get the same body as last time, so that's good."

Crowley nodded, then looked down. "Melinda...I need a favor."

Almost immediately I sat back up. "No, Crowley, I did not come back up, straight from Hell, to become your personal bargaining chip."

"I never said that this was about bargaining!"

"'I never said that this was about bargaining!'" I mocked, complete with the fake British accent. "Crowley, as much as I love you, and doing business with ya, I'm not your key to finding the Winchesters."