The Short Second Life of Mil Winchester - Book 2

Out of the Fire and Into the Frying Pan (REPOSTED)

A/N: Hey Millers! Welcome to the sequel of The Life and Lies of Mil Winchester. I'm going to repost the start of season 6 here, and make sure you check here for updates, not Life and Lies as it is finished!

OUT OF THE FIRE AND INTO THE FRYING PAN

MIL'S POV

The first sensation that washed over me as my senses returned was relief. My first hand broke free from the suffocating earth into the chilly air. Ahh. Cool. Whilst relishing in the fresh air, I wrestled to get my other hand free, then heaved myself up out of the ground. My head broke free, dirt cascading in waterfalls around me, and I drew in several gasping breaths of relief. I dragged myself the rest of the way out, fingers scrabbling for a hold like they didn't know how to work properly; and lay on the dirt, blinking several times and trying to fill my lungs with air. It felt like I hadn't breathed properly in about a year. As I came to my senses, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I appeared to be in a field, in the middle of nowhere, literally. Recovering sufficiently, I pushed myself to my feet, and stared around at the dry grass hill. Where the hell was I?

Memories flashed in front of my eyes. Black. My own face, scarred and twisted almost beyond recognition. My eyes, wild and tortured. Clarence's grin. A glinting, silver knife. Chains. Chains. More chains. My own screams rang in my ears. The force of the images caused me to stumble backwards, and I hit the ground heavily. I put a hand to my head and used my other hand to push myself to my feet. I staggered for a few steps as I taught myself how to walk all over again, then found my way and clambered over the incline, and down to the verge. On the other side, I found a gravelly highway. It was void of cars at the moment, but maybe I could wait a while. Somebody could pick me up, and I could at least get some sort of sense of direction.

Maybe an hour, maybe two hours later, a faded blue pickup bumped down the road. I leapt to my feet, and waved them down. The guy pulled over, and cranked down his window.

"Hey, kid," he greeted me, poking his shiny bald scalp out the window. "Need a ride?"

I smiled in relief. "Thanks." I clambered in the backseat, and the guy started the engine, and continued bumping down the road.

"Long way in-ta nowhere for such a pretty girl," he commented eventually. I shrugged, keeping my silent vigil. "What's your name, kid?"

I hesitated, deliberating whether to give him my real name or not. "Mil," I answered eventually. "Mil Wilson." I don't know why my boyfriend's surname was the first that popped into my head.

"Hiya Mil. I'm Roger. So, uh, where was it that you're headed?"

"Just to the nearest town would be great," I said. From there I could call my brothers and work out where they were, and how I could meet up with them.

Roger was the one to speak again, a few minutes later. "I gotta say, Mil - no offence, but you look like hell. Would it be blunt of me to ask what happened to ya?"

More flashes. Black. Red glow. My tortured eyes. My father's face. The bloodied, lifeless faces of Sam and Dean. Chains. Chains. More chains. I blinked rapidly a few times, drawing in deep breaths.

"It's a long story," I said when I'd recovered.

"You okay?" Roger asked in concern.

"Yeah," I panted.

Thankfully, Roger wasn't a chatty guy, and drove me in silence to the nearest town.

"Here ya are, kid," Roger said as he pulled up. "Just like you asked - welcome to Downey, California."