The moon shown down bright on the almost empty parking lot as Sarah Sim walked briskly toward her car. Her dark hair covered her face like a vale as she glanced over her shoulder quickly as she kept her original pace. She dug absently in her purse and tugged her car keys up and hit the unlock button as she reached the car. The door handle faltered the first few times she tried and it was icy to the touch. Once opened, Sarah quickly sat in the driver's seat and pulled the door shut after herself. The key turned and the car started with a slow purr as Sarah glanced out the side window, eyes wide. She could feel something out there. She put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot and made a quick exit out of the lot. She didn't pass any cars as she pulled onto the old bridge. She eased her foot off the gas and peered out the windshield. Suddenly, the wheel of the car jerked without her touching it. She tried to scream as the car hit the guard rail of the bridge and busted through it, but no voice would come out. The car plunged toward the water as Sarah made a strangled sound as she watched two bright blue eyes that belonged to a shimmering presence sitting on the hood of the car.
Dean Winchester pulled the 1967 Chevy Impala out on to the highway and accelerated. He reached over to the original radio and pushed the cassette tape in. Suddenly, Bang Your Head by Quiet Riot began to blast through the car. Dean leaned back into his seat and looked out the window.
"Alright, Sammy. Where we headed?" Dean asked his younger brother who occupied the passenger seat. Sam Winchester looked down at his scribbles in a notebook.
"Topeka."
"Toe-peak-a." Dean enunciated dramatically. "What's there?" He flipped on his blinker and moved into the fast lane.
"Not sure but, it looks like there might be a job." Sam flipped the page in the notebook. "Girl named Sarah Sim took the swan dive while still in her car the other night."
"Suicide?" Dean questioned, automatically.
"Don't think so. Two other people in her family died last week. Both looking like suicides. And according to the interview of her boss in the paper, she seemed like the happiest person he knew. Never expected it."
"Maybe she off-ed herself out of grief."
"Maybe." Sam sighed. "Still worth checking out though."
"Alright." Dean took the next exit and pulled off onto a smaller two lane road. Both boys had been quiet, just listening to the music of the tape for the last few miles. A song ended and all of a sudden they both heard a voice out of nowhere.
"Hello Dean." The deep, husky voice of the angel Castiel filled the car and Dean swerved the car in surprise. Castiel was sitting simply in the backseat as if he'd been there the whole time.
"Holy crap, Cas." Dean muttered in the rearview mirror as he flipped the radio off.
"You do know how to make an entrance, Castiel." Sam grinned back at him.
Castiel nodded, unimpressed, at Sam. "Hello to you too, Sam."
Sam raised his eyebrows in response.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked.
Castiel leaned back in the seat. "I'm here to stop you." He glanced out the window.
"Stop us?" Dean asked. "Stop us from what?"
There was no answer. Sam turned and looked at the backseat but Castiel was gone.
"He's gone." He murmured.
Dean looked in the rearview mirror and saw the empty seats in the back. "What do you think he was trying to stop us from?"
Sam shrugged. "This job?"
Dean thought for a minute. "He must have been yanked back for telling us. I say we go check out her apartment, see if we find anything then hit the road if we don't. "
Sam leaned back in his seat and let out a slow breath. "Sounds good."
"How you doing, I'm Agent Hemsworth and this is Agent Parker. We're here to check out Sarah Sim's apartment." Dean held up the fake F.B.I identification badge in front of the sweaty landlords face.
"But, the police already check her apartment." The landlord spoke in a quipped accent. Dean huffed out a breath.
"Yes, the bureau just sent us over for further investigation."
"But it was suicide." The landlord said.
"Sir," Sam spoke. "We're just here to see if there is anything that Sarah may have left behind in her apartment."
The landlord narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
"Um," Sam swallowed.
"You think we have drugs here?" The landlord asked questioningly.
"Oh, no. Sir. Of course not." Sam stammered.
"Because we don't." The landlords eyes narrowed even more.
"We just want to see," Dean cut it. "If Sarah may have left a note to family or anything like that. Nothing... illegal."
"Oh." The landlords face brightened. "Why didn't you just say so." He plucked the key off of the wall behind the desk and handed it to Dean. "Go right up. Third door on the left."
Dean raised his eyebrows and glanced at Sam.
"...Thank you."
"What do you wanna bet he's got cooking behind the counter?" Dean asked as Sam unlocked and opened the door into the apartment.
"Probably something the F.B.I would frown upon." Sam responded as they both stepped through the door.
"Well, she was no Martha Stewart." Dean commented on the dark and dingy apartment. The table tops were covered with loose papers and there were books scattered all over the floor. The walls looked like they could use a coat of paint and the mini kitchen looked hardly used.
"Yeah, no kidding." Sam said. He walked slowly into the bedroom as Dean inspected one of the books on the floor.
"'Ego vivo et vos mori. Redditur debitum. Carlotta Dium.'" Dean read from one of the books. "Huh. Guess Sarah was into Latin." He flipped the book closed and stood.
After they both searched through the rest of the small apartment, finding nothing, they headed out, dropping the keys off at the landlords desk on the way.
Dean sat in the driver's seat of the Impala and rolled his shoulders. "Well, that was a bust."
"What did I hear you reading before?" Sam asked as Dean started the car.
He shrugged. "Some book on the floor." Dean repeated what he remembered of it to Sam. Sam raised his eyebrows a little then settled into his seat as they searched for a motel.
"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Maritia." The desk clerk said as Dean and Sam started down the hall toward their room at the Troubadour Motel and Spa.
"Thank you." Dean called back as they went into their room. A few minutes later, both had their bags thrown on the beds and Sam was already researching on his laptop, sitting at the little coffee table. Dean relaxed on one of the beds and glanced at the brochure laying on the bedside table. He read it for a minute then half laughed. "Hey, Sammy, wanna get a Mud Wrap while we're here?"
Sam scoffed and ignored him as he clicked on a link.
"Think I might go for the Swedish Message, myself." Dean said sarcastically.
Sam, having completely un-noticed Dean's last comment, looked up at his brother. "Dean, that book you read at the apartment, do you remember the name of it?"
Dean swung his legs off the side of the bed and stared at Sam. "No."
Sam looked back at the screen. "It says here that Carlotta Dium was a insane mental patient who died in the hospital. It's said that the Latin you read were her last words ever spoken. They translate to: I live and you die. Debt is paid. After death, she came back and it's said that she haunted the hospital."
"So?" Dean asked.
"Well, the story goes that it's kinda like Bloody Mary."
Dean rolled his eyes remembering their run in with the evil spirit under the Bloody Mary name.
"Except you don't say her name three times. You just have to say her name and her last words, out loud, and in the same sentence."
Dean thought for a moment. "What happens then?"
"It says that she will haunt the two people closest to the person who says it, then kill them. Then eventually kill the person who said it." Sam looked up, his worried puppy dog eyes bearing into Dean.
"You think Sarah said it and that's why she and two family member's chocked it?"
Sam was quiet for a minute. "That's not what I'm really worried about, Dean."
Dean looked at him. "What?" Then, he remembered that he said it. He exhaled and looked at Sam. They were both silent. Then Dean yelled: "Sonuvabitch."
"Hello?" Bobby Singer answered his phone and was greeted with a sigh of relief on the other end.
"Bobby." Dean answered. "You okay?"
"Dean?" Bobby sat down at his desk chair, his eyes concerned. "What's wrong, boy?"
"Uh," Dean wet his lips. "I, uh. I did something stupid."
Bobby rolled his eyes. "What happened?"
"I may or may not have read some ancient curse that will kill me and the two people I'm closest to, aka you and Sam."
Bobby was quiet for a moment. "Well, you boys are never boring. I'll give you that."
"Yeah, no kidding." Dean leaned against the hood of the Impala.
"We got a time frame?" Bobby asked.
Dean looked down at the ground. "Not much of one. Sam's researching right now."
Dean gave Bobby the rest of the details. "Keep yourself safe, Bobby." He said softly. "I'm, I'm-"
"Don't even say it, Dean." Bobby cut him off. "It's not your fault. I'll call you if I find anything." The line disconnected. Dean slowly closed his phone and sighed. He looked through the window of the little cafe where Sam was sitting, staring intently at the screen of the laptop.
"It is my fault." He muttered. Then stuck his phone in his jacket pocket and walked into the cafe.
"Alright, here's what I found." Sam swiveled the laptop so Dean could read it. "The only way to get hold of Carlotta is to re-create her death."
Dean raised his eyebrows.
"If you re-create it, she'll know. She'll show and we can blast her with salt shells."
Dean looked up. "That'll kill her?"
Sam nodded. "Seems like."
Dean took a deep breath. "Okay. Where do we start?"
"Seriously?" Dean asked as he got out of the car. They were parked in front of Ted's Props and More.
"We need to re-create her death and we don't have the materials." Sam answered as he walked toward the door. "Besides, everything's better with props."
Dean followed and blinked a few times once they got through the door. Everywhere he looked, he saw odd objects from every part of life. He examined a real life looking oxygen tank as Sam walked up to the counter.
"Hi, can I help you?" The man, who must have been Ted, asked.
"Yeah, I'm filming a hospital scene for my film class and I'm missing some props." Sam answered, smooth as ice.
"Ah, right this way," Ted led him off to a back room as Dean wandered through a few aisles, glancing at all the objects.
"Dean."
Dean jumped and turned to face Castiel who had suddenly appeared behind him. "Cas," He said, relived. "Where'd you angel off to yesterday, man?" He asked.
Castiel looked slightly confused for a moment then spoke again. "Dean, this is very important. They don't want me telling you this."
"Who doesn't?" Dean asked.
Castiel paused. "Hell still wants you, Dean."
Dean exhaled. "Well, that's great news." He said sarcastically.
"But I can save you from the curse." Castiel said, very seriously.
Dean looked surprised. "You can?" Then he caught himself. "Cas, I don't care about myself. Save Sam. Save Bobby."
Castiel looked down. "I think I can save you all."
For a moment, Dean was quiet. But he couldn't help the relief that grew all over his face. "Really?" He whispered.
"Really."
Then Castiel was gone. Again.
Sam and Dean stood in the middle of an abandoned barn. They had transformed a small corner of it so it looked like an old hospital room. Dean sat on the end of the bed. The book from Sarah's apartment sitting next to him.
"Did Cas say anything else?" Sam asked from his seat on a old wooden bench.
Dean shook his head. "Just that he could save us."
The door opened and Bobby walked in, shotgun in hand. "Didn't start without me, didja?" He asked walking over to the boys.
"Course not." Dean grinned, half heartily.
"Good. Didn't wanna miss all the fun." Bobby took a swig of the whisky they had sitting on the bench next to Sam. "Let's kill this son of a bitch." He cocked the shotgun as Sam stood.
Dean looked at the two men standing before him, who were the only family he had left.
He swallowed. "You got it, Bobby." He cleared his throat and picked up the book. He stood and held the book up. "'Ego vivo et vos mori. Redditur debitum. Carlotta Dium.'" His words rang out throughout the barn. He repeated them again and suddenly an icy chill took over the barn. Bobby and Sam held their guns ready, glancing around. Dean shouted the words once more and suddenly a spirit appeared in the roof of the barn, looking down at the three men. She had flowing white hair and bright blue eyes. She opened her mouth and let out a blood curdling scream that broke a few of the windows. Bobby squinted up at her, his eye's beginning the bleed from the piercing noise and shot blindly up at her. Dean tried to see where she went when suddenly he felt her cold breath on his neck. The screaming was softened slightly but it still pierced their ears. Suddenly, the air in Dean's lungs were cut off. He doubled over and tried to suck air in but nothing would come. He heard Sam yell his name faintly, but he couldn't hear much more than Carlotta.
A blast of white light shot through the barn as all three men closed their eyes. Carlotta's screams died out as the light blazed on. Dean felt the vise around his lungs loosen and he sucked in air. In a few short seconds time, the light was gone. It was quiet in the barn as all men slowly opened their eyes and blinked, trying to regain their sight and hearing. Dean looked up and saw a tall man standing before him, wearing a loose tie and a tan colored trench coat. "Cas," He croaked out. Castiel looked down at him and held out a hand. Dean gripped it as Castiel pulled him and he stumbled on his feet.
"Castiel." Sam winced as he and Bobby stood. Castiel nodded to the two of them.
"I don't think I can do that again." Castiel said softly.
Dean winced as he tried to grin. "I hope you don't have to. Is she gone?"
"She is gone. And she won't be back." Castiel answered.
"Are you okay, Cas?" Sam asked. Castiel turned and looked him.
"I'm a little tired. And for some reason, Jimmy is hungry."
Dean chuckled and threw an arm around Castiel's shoulder and tried not to groan at the pain it caused his abdomen. "I owe you, buddy. Come on, first beer's on me."
Castiel blinked at him. "...Buddy?"