Supernatural - Chapter 3: What She Can't Say (Patreon)

“Ugh...” Murphy put her head in her hands, desperately trying to work out what she was allowed to say.

Sam waited patiently. He could tell she was troubled, though he didn't know what was bothering her.

Maybe there wasn't much information about him left in the future?

“You're Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester's younger brother. You went to Stanford, and your girlfriend Jessica was killed by the yellow-eyed demon. Both your parents are dead, and...” Murphy recited the basic facts, still hesitating.

“And?” Sam was surprised she really did know about him, and apparently quite a lot. Now he understood her struggle. She wasn't trying to remember things about him. She was deciding which things she could tell him.

“And your mother was killed one night when you were six months old, also by the yellow-eyed demon. You're one of the children the demon chose. You've just come through a fight to the death against the other chosen kids. Another survivor, Jake, gravely wounded you, and you only recovered today. Did I get that right?”

“Are there really that many records about me in the future? Oh, wait. Am I still alive then? Did I tell people all that myself? No, that doesn't seem very likely...” Sam considered the possibilities.

“Of course you're not dead.” Murphy studied the much younger Sam before her with a trace of sadness. “You have a long life ahead of you.”

Thinking about what was coming, she sighed inwardly. There were so many things she knew she shouldn't say, and yet...

“Actually, there's something else I know. Something really important.”

That got Sam's attention. He remained ready to listen, but the sorrow on her face surprised him.

“I just don't think I'm the person who should tell you. And, you know, revealing things before they're supposed to happen could cause a butterfly effect or something.” Murphy pursed her lips.

“Not the person who should tell me,” Sam repeated. Then he called, “Dean?”

“What?” Dean appeared in the backyard at just the right moment, as if he'd come looking for them.

“Nothing.” Sam's feelings grew complicated. Ever since waking up, he'd sensed that something was wrong. Dean had been acting strangely too.

“Mind if I join you?” Dean asked casually, sitting on Murphy's other side.

“Not at all.”

“So, do you know what's going to happen to us next? Or anything that's coming up soon?” Sam changed the subject.

Wedged between the two brothers, Murphy felt oddly uncomfortable. She couldn't quite explain it. Something seemed to be prickling at her from the inside.

Maybe it was because she was trapped between two human walls!

The thought suddenly struck her as obvious.

“I do. And didn't I already tell you? The cemetery?”

“What about the Devil's Gate? Was that true?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Can I come with you when you go?” Murphy had no desire to be abandoned somewhere on her own. Now that she'd ended up here, she wanted to at least try to make a difference.

“You? You look like a strong breeze could knock you over.” Dean made fun of her office-worker physique, earning himself an annoyed look from Sam. He silently mouthed, “What?” Sam merely rolled his eyes.

“Hey! Do you understand what logistics means? My brain is my greatest asset!” Murphy sprang to her feet and glared at Dean. “Besides, I'm five foot nine. That's tall! I just... I just don't have much muscle!”

“Oh.” Dean sounded unconvinced. Then he and Sam stood up as well and looked down at her, silently making their point.

“Look, I'll probably be fine. And if something does happen, it'll be my own fault, okay?” Murphy arched an eyebrow at Dean's six-foot-one frame and Sam's towering six-foot-five height. If she was there, she might be able to help Bobby and Ellen close the Devil's Gate sooner, so fewer demons could escape.

As for preventing the gate from opening in the first place?

Please. She really was physically weak. And fighting demons herself? What a joke.

“No. You're staying here with Bobby.” Dean wasn't budging.

“Then I'll wait until you leave, steal one of Bobby's cars, and follow you. I don't even know how to drive American cars, so I guess the worst-case scenario is that I crash and die.” Murphy shrugged as though she couldn't care less.

“You!” Dean was starting to lose his temper.

“It's okay, Dean. How about we discuss it with Bobby and the others?” Sam patted him reassuringly before turning to Murphy. “We'll give you an answer in a little while, all right?”

“Whatever.”

Sam headed into the house first. Dean lingered, moving a little closer to Murphy.

“Thanks for not telling Sam.”

“You know, I wanted to. I just don't think it should come from me.” Murphy raised her eyes to Dean's exhausted face. “And I'd advise you to tell him yourself sooner rather than later. Pick the right moment. You think a year is a long time?”

“I...” For once, Dean seemed at a loss for words. In the end, he put on a stubborn expression. “That's my business.”

Murphy sighed. “Just be honest with him.”

Dean pressed his lips together, gave her a look, and went into the house without another word.

Murphy raised her voice after him. “Tell Bobby that if you decide to leave me here, I'll burn his house down!”

Then she sat back where she'd been. From inside the house came a curse from Bobby, followed by the sound of an argument. Bobby and Ellen both opposed bringing her along. Dean said little, while Sam kept trying to convince them.

Eventually, Sam came outside.

“Come on. Get in the car. We need to get there early enough to set up an ambush.”

Murphy's eyes lit up, but then she remembered something. “Uh, do you think there are any clothes here I could change into? This outfit isn't exactly practical for a trip.” She sounded embarrassed.

“Probably. Come on.” Sam tipped his head toward the house.

In the end, Murphy changed into some of Bobby's late wife's clothes. He'd never been able to bring himself to throw them away, so they were still in the wardrobe. Luckily, they were loose enough to fit her.

...

When Murphy came back out in her borrowed clothes, everyone was getting ready beside the cars.

Dean took one look at her. “Know how to shoot?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oh, terrific.” Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, who gave an innocent shrug.

“Take this. Don't point it at yourself or any of us. Got it?” Dean rummaged through the trunk, pulled out a dagger, and pressed it into Murphy's hand.

Murphy rolled her eyes without a word.

They all set off. Murphy took her usual place in the back of Dean's beloved car. Bobby and Ellen followed the brothers in another vehicle.

With the brothers discussing the demons and the Devil's Gate up front, Murphy was wide awake. She sat quietly and thought back over the first twenty-six years of her life.

She had no parents. Financial assistance had helped her grow up in an orphanage, and she'd eventually earned a place at a fairly good university. She studied computer science and went on to become a cybersecurity engineer.

The people at the orphanage had all been kind. But after she'd repeatedly demonstrated that she could recall exactly who had done what and when, they began to find her unsettling. They thought she was a freak who remembered everyone else's business.

Maybe ordinary people just couldn't stand someone with such a precise memory. After all, having someone around who could dredge up every last detail during an argument was pretty embarrassing for everyone else.

So she'd learned to act normal. She spoke less, and she chose carefully what to say. Unless, of course, someone was practically begging for trouble. Like a certain ex-boyfriend.

Perhaps she'd played the accommodating girlfriend so convincingly at first that he'd mistaken her for a lovestruck fool he could push around.

The first time he showed up late, he claimed something had come up. The second time he stood her up, he told her to be more understanding. By the third, he'd started treating her silence as agreement, deciding where they would go that weekend, whom they'd see, and even what she'd wear. As though not getting angry meant she had no opinion.

When Murphy finally went through every incident with him, one by one, his face looked worse than if he'd seen a ghost. “You take everything too seriously,” he'd said. “We're not right for each other.”

Remembering that, Murphy suddenly realized what she really hated: being brushed off and having other people make decisions for her.

She laughed at the strange path her own thoughts had taken.

Up front, Dean and Sam both turned to look at her, puzzled by the sudden laugh.

“Seriously? You're laughing right now, when we're dealing with all this? Aren't you scared?” Dean was beginning to wonder whether there was something wrong with her head.

“Sorry, did I laugh? Why would I be scared?” Murphy asked, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

Seeing their uncomfortable expressions, she laughed again. “Sorry, I guess I didn't explain that very well. What I mean is, if you knew what was coming, you wouldn't be scared either.”

“And what is coming?” Sam asked.

“Good things and bad. Some people will get hurt, and some will die. But if nothing goes wrong, you two should be all right.” Murphy's answer was deliberately vague.

“You know, sometimes you seriously give me the creeps.” Dean shivered, goosebumps rising on his arms. Beside him, Sam gave a tiny nod, then hurriedly stopped himself as though realizing it was rude.

“Maybe I made too strong a first impression. I'm not a demon or a ghost, so what's so scary about me?” Murphy leaned forward between the seats and rested a hand on each brother's shoulder, hoping to remind them she was a living, breathing human being.

Dean yelped loudly a couple of times as though she'd terrified him. Murphy snatched her hands back like she'd been electrocuted and stared at him in confusion. “What the hell's wrong with you?”

“Lady, I'm driving. Now's not the time.” Dean seemed to realize he'd overreacted and smiled awkwardly.

Sam glanced sideways at them, looking both amused and exasperated.

“Tch. One last friendly warning. If you get a chance, kill Jake before he spots you. As I remember it, he'll take the Colt and use it to open the Devil's Gate.” Murphy picked up the dagger she'd laid aside and considered how to hold it safely.

“How did he get his hands on the Colt?” Dean's expression darkened.

“I'll kill him,” Sam said firmly.

“Do it quickly.” Murphy looked at him seriously.

It was a long drive. By the time Dean and the others reached the cemetery and took up their positions, night had fallen. Fortunately, Jake arrived even later.

Jake approached the cemetery gate one careful step at a time. Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Ellen crouched behind gravestones with their guns raised. Armed with nothing but a dagger, Murphy waited silently against the wall on the cemetery's right side.

Click.

Someone had cocked a gun.

Jake went rigid and turned toward the noise. It had come from Sam.

Remembering Murphy's warning, Sam fired the instant Jake spotted him. But Jake merely lifted his hand and brushed the bullet aside as if it weighed nothing.

“What?”

Everyone was stunned, Jake included.

Murphy sighed. Apparently, a child chosen by the demon wasn't quite so easy to kill.

The others stepped out into view. Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Ellen advanced slowly with their guns trained on Jake. While he turned to face the four of them, Murphy crept closer from an angle behind him, careful to keep her distance. She didn't have Sam's physical resilience. One punch from that demon-powered kid might break her into pieces.

“You're supposed to be dead!” Jake stared at the very much alive Sam in terror.

“You'd better hope I am,” Sam replied coldly, advancing with his gun raised.

“No, I know you died! I severed your spinal cord! There's no way you survived!” Jake shouted.

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion and briefly glanced at Dean. He said nothing, though, still waiting for an opening to shoot while Jake was distracted.

Feeling guilty, Dean instinctively looked toward Murphy behind Jake. She shot him a look of her own, one that plainly said, See? I told you!

No one knew how Jake noticed Dean's glance in such darkness. He abruptly changed direction and sprinted several steps toward the cemetery gate, bringing everyone into his field of vision.

“Hah. Trying to sneak up on me?” Jake scoffed, then looked at Ellen. “Ma'am, do me a favor. Point that gun at your own head.”

Ellen gave a derisive laugh, but her body moved against her will and she pressed the muzzle to her temple.

The others stared in disbelief. Jake grew even more smug. “Just like Ava said. Once you accept the demon's power, you learn fast.”

“Now it's your turn. Stab yourself.” Jake turned toward Murphy, who was the closest to him.

“No!” Dean shouted.

Murphy hadn't expected to become his next target. Her face went pale, and she even squeezed her eyes shut.

One second. Two. Three...

Nothing happened.

“Huh?” Murphy cracked one eye open, staring in bewilderment as a strange anger began rising inside her.

“What? How'd you do that?” Jake seemed to lose his confidence in an instant. Panicking, he barked at the others, “Everyone, put your guns down! Except you!”

The last order was directed at Ellen.

Dean and Bobby felt an irresistible force compelling them to lower their weapons. They couldn't believe it. If Jake could do that to them, why hadn't it worked on Murphy?

Could she be one of the children the demon had chosen too?

Dean glanced at Sam, who was still holding his gun, unaffected.

“I said put the gun down.” Jake knew his power didn't work on Sam, so he shot a threatening look at Ellen, who was still under his control.

Sam had no choice. He set his gun at his feet, stood up, and raised both hands.

Jake looked around and decided the moment was right. He pulled the Colt from inside his coat and thrust it into a hole in the cemetery gate.

The patterns on the gate began to turn. Dean and Bobby moved to restrain Ellen. One seized her gun arm while the other tackled her to the ground.

Sam grabbed his gun again and was about to fire several shots at Jake when Murphy, whom everyone had overlooked because she was unaffected and carried only a dagger, drove the blade deep into the middle of Jake's back.

“How dare you try to make me hurt myself?” Murphy yanked back out of reach as soon as she struck, furious and breathing hard.

Sam was startled, but he quickly moved to Murphy's side and watched the badly wounded Jake struggle to roll over.

“No... please...” Jake knew he was about to die, but he still hoped that, as before, begging Sam for mercy would get him out of it.

Sam remembered that earlier moment of weakness too, and how Jake had rewarded his mercy by stabbing him in the back.

His expression went cold. Ignoring Jake's pleas, he fired several shots in quick succession and blew his head apart.

Blood spattered Sam's expressionless face and sprayed Murphy, who stood beside him watching.

“Ugh!” Murphy gagged in disgust. The others came over one by one, casting surprised looks at Sam. His blank expression was downright frightening.

Dean watched his brother wipe the blood from his face with chilling indifference. Something about Sam's demeanor caught him off guard.

By now, the patterns on the cemetery gate had stopped turning.

During those few seconds of stillness, Bobby said in despair, “No. It really is the Devil's Gate.”

The gate started shaking, as though it might burst open at any second.

Dean pulled the Colt from the gate, and Bobby yelled, “Take cover!”