Why Won't You Stay

Chapter 1: Your Ex Lover is Dead

Summary: A/N: This is part of the sequel to The Mercy of Fortune while not actually being the actual sequel. These are interstitial mostly told through a series of phone calls (all thought that might expand as the series goes on) meant to bridge the gaps between my story line and the televised story.

Begins shortly after The Mercy of Fortune and Skin... as you'll see. So I guess on with the show!

Your Ex Lover Is Dead

"God that was strange to see you again

Introduced by the friend of a friend

Smiled and said 'Yes, I think we've met before'

In that instant it started pour"

This was not the feeling she associated with death. The lanky redhead had seen her share of it. More than her share in reality. This wasn't death, it was… something else. Too sanitized, almost too unreal. Her eyes drifted down to the picture again. It hadn't been too difficult to get the crime scene photos.

While she had stopped tailing the Winchesters, she hadn't stopped keeping tabs on them. Had she not routinely run searches for information on some key names, she wouldn't have even known. That was a sad statement because there were so many lives he had changed, so many people who owed their lives to Dean Winchester. It didn't play for her that he himself had been a murderer. He wouldn't kill people. Not innocent people. It didn't jibe for her.

Dean was a lot of things but a killer? Okay, he was a killer but not of everyday people. And to be shot, just shot? It all seemed odd. It wasn't something she was going to let simply pass without issue. And why the hell hadn't anyone looked into it? Sure, there were people who wouldn't give a damn about someone with Dean's record but there were enough hunters who cared about the younger man to investigate. But from what she had heard, not a soul had been to St. Louis in that week to check it out.

That was strange. Mae frowned and took another drink. It hadn't been that long since she had seen him last. If she were being honest, she thought they wouldn't see each other again. Dean had wanted more, she didn't know what that might be, but it scared the hell out of her. She couldn't imagine what being friends with him would look like at this point? Would they hunt together? Did he want a physical relationship? It didn't matter at this point, did it, she thought. Mae wasn't prone to tears and knew it wasn't likely she would shed them now but if anyone deserved them it was Dean.

She told herself that it wasn't regret she felt. It wasn't an empty hollow feeling that had her drinking hard liquor before noon. She didn't even fool herself this time. She missed Dean. They had made up, at least somewhat, last time she saw him. He had unintentionally eroded some of the walls she had built so carefully to keep people from getting so close to her again. Three days in the woods, an all-out fistfight, and a roll of emotions that would confuse everyone had destroyed all her work.

As much as she wanted, she couldn't get over the fact that Dean liked her. It seemed ridiculous given what they faced but well, she had never made it easy for people to like her and typically didn't care enough to find out. There were a few exceptions and Dean was the biggest. Her instinct was to push him away, but she knew that ultimately, her affection for him would win out. There was just something about being near him that made her want to spend more time, be closer. It was a n impulse she didn't understand as she'd never felt it for anyone else before.

Despite that, she knew she needed to keep him at a distance, because she would too easily get distracted by him, by her feelings for him. She had work to do that didn't need that. Mae supposed she also assumed she'd have more time to... reconnect. That was gone now.

Just as she steeled herself against the tears, her phone rang. Groping for it, she frowned at the caller ID: Dean. She thought perhaps she was reading it wrong. No, it was Dean. Some cruel reminder. She knew it couldn't be him. She blinked the gathering tears from her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Hey Sam, how you doin'?" Her voice wasn't strong enough to get more out. It in no way conveyed what she felt or what she wanted to say. She didn't ask the question casually. Sam couldn't possibly be doing well with his brother's death.

"Sam? Are you expecting a call from my brother?" She couldn't form words right then. His voice was distinct and there was no question who was on the other end. And there was no question about who's body it was in the crime scene photo. "You know I might get jealous here. Mae? Mae you still there?"

Somehow, she held onto the phone but did lose her grip on her glass. He chuckled at the softly muttered curse and it brought her back to reality. "You're dead."

Dean laughed. "So, you heard about that then?"

"You sound awfully casual for a dead man."

"I'm not dead."

The redhead scoffed. "I've got evidence to the contrary."

"Checkin' up on me? I think I like that."

"Listen, I don't know who you are or what you're playing at but trust me, you picked the wrong person to imitate."

He couldn't keep from chuckling. This was almost as good as seeing his own funeral. Mae was defending him. Sort of. "I'm not dead, okay and this really is me. The dead guy who looked like me wasn't me."

Her red eyebrow arched. Things made a bit more sense if that wasn't Dean who was dead. Still, Mae wasn't

exactly a believer, not when it came to taking things at face value.

"Hey, Scout's Honor, Mae."

"Dude, even if you were a boy scout, I wouldn't believe you."

"I have an honest face."

"No, you have the face of…" Well, it wasn't an innocent face, that was for sure, but she couldn't exactly find words to describe it.

"Of what?"

"So, if that wasn't you dead there, what was it?"

"Shapeshifter."

"How'd you kill it?"

"Quiz time, Maes? That's an amateur question." She shrugged before she reminded herself, she was on the phone.

"Well sweetmeat, it still stands."

He would have loved to see her. For now, he would just picture with that hard glint in her big eyes, consternation pressing her lips to a thin line and the seated bend of her long frame telling him he couldn't bullshit her. It made his blood run hot.

"Silver bullet, straight to that handsome bastard's heart. Shame to waste that face though… I mean, aside from the fact that he was ruining my good reputation."

She snorted. "Good reputation? Do you forget I am… aware of your reputation?"

"Hey, I may be a lady-killer but… I'm not lady killer."

"Yeah." She wanted to believe him. There was just something about Dean. While she wouldn't admit it to him of all people, he was still a hero of sorts to her and going out like that, it didn't happen to men like him. She huffed, trying to push down the relief because she knew it might not be real. "This has been nice Dean or whoever you are but… I need proof."

"What would you do for that proof Mae?"

If she didn't know any better, she would swear he was hitting on her. Scratch that, she knew he was, but innuendo didn't prove it. "Well, for starters I probably won't shoot you."

"There's that."

"But trust me, if you aren't Dean Winchester, I will hunt you down" He knew she would and in a strange way it was flattering to be threatened by her.

"Fair enough. When you realize I'm not dead, what's my reward?"

Mae smiled a bit. "Well, it'll be one fewer day you're shot."

"Aw, c'mon gimme something more." She was silent. "A phone call at least."

He didn't want to beg but damned if he didn't want to talk to her. He had hoped she hadn't heard about the murder charges, his death. Of course, this was Mae and she always seemed one step ahead. Made the chase interesting.

"Deal. I'll either give you a call or a bullet."

"You make it sound so sweet Miss Singer." He nearly laughed when she hung up the phone on him.