We're Trying To Help You, Moron

You had stopped back at the motel to change into some street clothes and fill some canteens with caffeine. It was stake out night and most likely going to be a long one. You sat in the back of the impala as the three of you watched Peter Warren move from room to room. It had been a couple hours before Dean interrupted the silence. "Anything good?" referring to the research that currently occupied Sam. "No. Not really. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?"

"$112 Million." Dean let out a whistle. "Nice life."

"Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So, why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?"

"Maybe nothing." You'd racked your brain and categorized the data, coming up with no plausible commonalities. Though Sam felt differently. "No. There's always something."

"Hey, you!" All three of you snapped your heads in the direction of the angry Peter Warren approaching the car. Dean turned to the two of you, "I think we've been made." You narrowed your eyes; clearly you'd been made, there was no reason to say it. The three of you exited the car. "What are you guys doing?! You watching me?!" Sam took control of the situation immediately. "Sir, calm down. Please."

"You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not – not in that crappy car." Dean immediately answered, "Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty." It was your turn to explain, as the other two had missed the mark. "Look, we are cops, okay? We're undercover. We're here because we think you're in danger." It was always a good idea to touch on self-preservation. "From who?!"

"If you just settle down, we'll talk about it."

"Look, you guys just stay away from me!" Well, that wasn't the direction you thought the conversation was going to go. Peter turned and ran for his car before Sam stepped in, "Wait!" His words went unnoticed, as Warren got into his car anyway. It was Dean's turn to yell, "Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!" Peter started to drive away, but abruptly stopped before the gate, his engine sputtering. Sam said what you all were thinking, "That can't be good."

"Nope."

"Get the salt gun." You looked at Sam, "Give me a boost." He crossed his fingers and lowered his arms as you stepped into his hands, using them as a springboard. Landing over the fence, you took off in a sprint and ran to the driver's side of the car. When you looked, there was a strange man sitting in the passenger seat, locking the doors as you arrived. You quickly whipped out your pick as the shaggy ghost reached out to touch Peter's face. You noticed it was an awkward angle, as the ghost had to use his left hand, his right clearly missing. Peter began to hemorrhage water from his mouth as Sam arrived next to the passenger door. Peter's head slumped against the steering wheel and the ghost was fighting your pick. Dean ran around the corner with his sawed-off screaming, "Down!" Both you and Sam instinctually ducked as Dean shot through the window, the ghost disappearing immediately after. Your pick easily slid into the lock, maneuvering it open. You shoved Peter Warren back against his seat to check his pulse, exhaling and shaking your head at the boys when you found none. Sam returned your look with a dejected one and Dean struck the car in his frustration. At the moment, you could relate…

The ride home was no better. The silence that filled the air was dismal until Dean broke it. "You want to say it or should I?" Sam turned and answered, "What?"

"You can't save everybody."

"Yea, right. So-so, what? You feel better now or what?"

"No. Not really."

"Me neither." In theory, you could relate, but truth be told you really didn't feel anything. At the time of death, of course, it was a loss. However, reviewing the event after, there was really nothing else you could've done other than what occurred. So there was zero efficiency in guilt, simple as that.

Dean continued, "You got to under-" Sam interrupted, "It's just lately I feel like I can't save anybody." Dean glanced in the rearview and you met his gaze. What were you supposed to say to that? Decidedly nothing, as the rest of the car ride was silent.