Just a quick a/n... This is one of my favorite episodes ?
THIRD PERSON POV*****
July 7th, 1996
"She's my cherry pie! Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise!" Bri sloppily takes another sip of cheap whiskey before putting it down on the floor. She then leans down from her position on Bobby's couch straddling Dean and begins planting kisses on his jaw line.
"Bridgette-" Dean stops talking with a little gasp of surprise as Bri lands a small nip on his jaw, "-Sammy's right there. We need to stop."
"Sammy don't mind... Do you, Short Stop?" Bri runs her hand down Dean's chest.
"I mind!" Sam exclaims as he covers his eyes. "Oh dear god help me, I mind!"
"Keep the boy innocent, Miss. Bridgette!" Dean laughs as he gently grabs her by the waist and pushes her off him and onto the empty part of the couch.
"Babe, I'm anything but innocent." She tries to make a sexy face but comes off more comical. "I'm gonna make you so hot for me that you-"
Sam jumps up off the arm chair that he was currently residing in. "I'm going to my room! Try not to be loud."
As he makes his way to the stairs Bri smiles at him. "I'll be quiet as a mouse Sammy-boy! I can't promise the same for your big bro though."
She winks at Dean.
Dean laughs. "You may wanna hurry Sammy. I'm no longer responsible for the words you hear come out of her mouth."
Sam rushes up the stairs.
Bri turns to Dean. "Ooh, you wanna hear me talk dirty, Sexy?"
"You know I-"
As the door opens, Dean's eyes pop open, his dream, or rather memory now gone from his mind. He slips a hand under his pillow for a weapon.
As he turns to look, he sees Sam entering, carrying coffee and pastries.
"Morning, sunshine." Sam smirks. "Where's Bri at?"
Dean looks at the closed bathroom door, through which the shower can be heard running. "Shower. What time is it?"
"Uh, it's about five forty-five." Sam tells his older brother like its no biggie.
Dean looks at him like he's grown another head. "In the morning?"
"Yep." Sam nods.
"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Bye bye dreamland. I'll see you tomorrow night.
"Did you get any sleep last night?"
"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours." Sam lies.
Apparently not good enough because his brother calls him out. "Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."
"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV." Sam jokes.
But Dean won't have any of it. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"
"I don't know, a little while, I guess." Sam admits. "It's not a big deal."
"Yeah, it is."
"Look, I appreciate your concern—"
Dean interrupts him. "Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, and my job to keep Bri's ass alive, so we need you sharp."
Sam shrugs.
Dean's face becomes serious. "Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?"
Sam crosses the room, sits on the other bed, and hands a coffee to Dean. "Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you. I mean, Bri almost died on our last case. She was so close to drowning."
"I get what you mean, but you can't let it. You can't bring it home like that." Dean tells his little brother.
"So, what? All this it...never keeps you up at night? Seeing Bridgette dead? Having to give her CPR? Her cold, lifeless body? That didn't phase you at all?" Sam says in disbelief.
Dean shakes his head.
Sam scoffs, "Never? You're never afraid?"
Dean shakes his head. "No, not really."
Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife and holds it up as evidence.
Dean grabs the knife back. "That's not fear. That is precaution."
"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue." Sam lets it go.
Dean's phone ring. He picks it up and answers it, "Hello?"
–Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back.–
Dean recognizes the name. "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"
–No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and...uh, I think it could be a lot worse.–
"What is it?" Dean asks Jerry.
–Can we talk in person?–
Dean eyes Sam and Sam eyes him back.
After Dean hangs up with Jerry he begins to fill Sam in. Not long after they hear the shower turn off, and the bathroom door opens.
Both boys look up to see Bri standing in the door way in nothing but a light blue towel, her hair still wet.
Sam immediately averts his eyes, blushing, but Dean has no such qualms.
His candy green eyes sweep her body up and down. With a smirk he says, "Now that, is definitely something I could get used to."
Bri smirks right back. "Cute... But trust me, I'll strip down in front of Sam before you ever see this again, sweetheart."
Dean lets out a low whistle as Sam blushes even harder. "Damn, Cherry Pie, that hurt me. Right here." He puts a hand over his heart in mock hurt.
Bri rolls her eyes before grabbing her clothes off of Sam's bed and returning to the bathroom to change.
After once again emerging in a tight white tank-top, ripped, blue, skinny jeans, a black leather jacket, and black converse, the boys fill Bri in on the situation.
Xxxxxx
"Thanks for making the trip so quick." Jerry thanks the three young hunters. "I ought to be doing you kids a favor, not the other way around. Dean and John really helped me out."
"Yeah, he told us." Sam tells Jerry. "It was a poltergeist?"
"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." Some clueless worker asks as he passes by. His eyes rake over Bri. "What about you, baby girl? Did you?"
"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." Jerry reprimands the guy and he walks away. Jerry turns back to Sam. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for Dean and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"
"Yeah, I was. I'm—" Sam hesitates, "taking some time off."
"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time." Jerry reveals.
Sam's eyes widen. "He did?"
"Yeah, you bet he did." Jerry nods. "Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"
"He's, um," Dean thinks about how to answer, "wrapped up in a job right now."
"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry chuckles, followed by Dean. "And this young lady is...?"
Dean puts a hand on Bri's shoulder. "This, Jerry, is our best friend, and one of the best hunters I know, Bridgette Hart."
Jerry and Bri shake hands. "It's great to meet you, Jerry."
"Likewise, Bridgette. Thank you for helping my out."
Bri smiles, "No problem."
Jerry smiles back. "I got something I want you guys to hear."
OFFICE – DAYTIME
"I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry puts a CD in a drive. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."
Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure...
At the end there is a loud whooshing sound.
"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why." Jerry sighs. "Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."
"You don't think it was?" Sam asks him.
Jerry shakes his head with complete certainty. "No, I don't."
"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Sam instructs.
Jerry nods. "All right."
"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asks hopefully.
"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."
Dean frowns. "No problem."
STREET – DAYTIME
Sam is waiting by the car outside a Copy Jack. Bri is lounging on the hood of the Impala with sunglasses on her face. As Dean exits, an attractive woman enters.
"Hey." She says with a flirtatious look in her eyes.
"Hi..." Dean mumbles, distracted by the view of Bri on his Baby. 'Damn she looks sexy...'
"You've been in there forever." Sam's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Bri sits up and slips the sunglasses to the top of her head.
Dean holds up three IDs. "You can't rush perfection."
Sam's eyes widen. "Homeland Security?"
He takes one of the IDs and Dean tosses the other to Bri. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."
"Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." Dean tells him.
Bri slides off of Baby and they all get in.
"All right, so, what do you got?" Dean asks Bri and Sam.
"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam tells him.
"Yeah?" Dean asks.
"Mmhmm, creepy as hell EVP." Bri tells him.
"Listen." Sam plays the tape, which has been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.
"No survivors!" The voice hisses.
""No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors." Dean points out.
"Got me." Sam shrugs.
"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asks, looking in the rear view mirror at Bri, who's getting her iPod out.
Bri meets his eyes. "It's a good possibility."
Sam nods, "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."
"Mm-hmm." Dean hums.
"Or remember flight 401?" Sam asks.
"Right." Dean nods in recognition. "The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights."
"Right." Sam nods.
"Yep." Dean says popping the 'p'.
"Maybe it's the same type of thing..." Bri suggests.
"All right, so, survivors," Dean nods, "which one do you want to talk to first?"
"Third on the list: Max Jaffey." Sam says with certainty.
"Why him?" Dean asks.
"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did."
"What makes you say that?" Dean asks.
"Well, I spoke to his mother." Sam replies. "And she told me where to find him."
HOSPITAL – DAYTIME
The Impala is parked in front of the gate to a building with a sign out front that reads 'Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital '.
Xxxxxxx
Max is walking with a cane between Sam and Dean with Bri to Sam's side.
"I don't understand." Max tells them. "I already spoke with Homeland Security."
"Right. Some new information has come up." Dean dismisses his concerns. "So if you could just answer a couple questions..."
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything..." Sam pauses, "unusual?"
"Like what?" Max furrows his brow in confusion.
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe." Dean lists for Max. "Voices."
"No, nothing." Max says unconvincingly.
"Mr. Joffey—" Dean begins.
"Jaffey." Max corrects him.
"Mr. Jaffey." Bri sends dean a pointed look. "You checked yourself in here, right?"
Max nods.
"Can I ask why?" Dean asks.
"I was a little stressed." Max tells them, coldly. "I survived a plane crash."
"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asks skeptically.
"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max stutters.
"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what." Dean tells him firmly.
"No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things." Max says with wide eyes.
"He was seeing things." Dean mutters to his partners mockingly. Bri nudges his side with her elbow.
"It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please." Sam asks him.
Max nervously answers. "There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..."
"What?" Dean asks.
Max continues. "He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."
"Yeah." Dean sighs.
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asks
"What are you, nuts?" Max stares at Sam strangely.
Sam tilts his head.
"He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." Max elaborates.
STREET – DAYTIME
The Impala pulls up in front of a house.
"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam announces.
"Hmm." Dean hums. "Man, I don't care how strong you are."
They all get out of the car.
Dean continues. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."
"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form."
"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean scoffs.
Sam turns to look at the perfectly ordinary house.
"Ahh, yes, modern living is quite terrifying nowadays." Bri quips.
PHELPS HOUSE – DAYTIME
Dean, Bri, and Sam sit across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam is looking at a framed photograph.
"This is your late husband?" He asks her.
Mrs. Phelps sighs. "Yes, that was my George."
"And you said he was a..." Dean pauses, "dentist?"
"Mm-hm." Mrs. Phelps hums in answer. "He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..."
Sam takes in the information. "How long were you married?"
Mrs. Phelps smiles sadly. "Thirteen years."
Bri leans over and pats Mrs. Phelps's knee comfortingly.
Sam begins to question her. "In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"
Mrs. Phelps, clearly not getting the meaning of strange, answers. "Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."
Dean and Sam share looks with each other. Then they turn to Bri who shrugs.
The trio come down the stairs out front.
"I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam says.
"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified." Dean scoffs. "You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."
"Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part." Sam suggests.
"Yeah, I'd doubt they'd let Jon Bon Jovi and Sasquatch anywhere near the wreckage." Bri laughs, practically skipping with mirth toward the Impala.
"You little-" Dean picks up his pace, following her.
BUSINESS ATTIRE RENTAL SHOP – DAYTIME
Dean, Bri, and Sam exit the store, "Mort's for Style", the boys wearing wearing crisp black suits with white shirts.
Bri wearing:
Sam adjusts his collar.
"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean complains.
"No, you don't. You look more like a..." Sam pauses to think about his wording, "seventh-grader at his first dance."
Dean looks down at himself. "I hate this thing."
He looks to Bri who is walking slightly ahead of the brothers. "At least Bri is giving me a nice view..." His eyes slip to her swaying hips.
"Eyes up or I'll gouge them out with my left heel, Winchester." She says coolly, still walking.
Deans eyes immediately return to his brother.
Sam rolls his eyes. "Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?"
They all get into the car and Dean starts it.
STORAGE WAREHOUSE – DAYTIME
They enter the warehouse and show their badges to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. They walk among plane wreckage; Dean pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.
Sam frowns, "What is that?"
"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean says like it's obvious.
"Yeah," Sam rolls his eyes, "I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?"
"'Cause that's what I made it out of." Dean smirks. "Specifically the one you dropped in Bobby's driveway. Remember? It was 1996...the day we...?"
"Met Bri!" Sam finishes, grinning.
Bri and Dean both grin. "It's homemade."
Sam smirks, "Yeah, I can see that."
Dean's grin disappears. He runs the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage with a yellow substance on it and gets an audible spike.
"Check out the emergency door handle." He says and scratches at the yellow dust, getting some on his hand. "What is this stuff?"
"One way to find out." Sam says as he scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag.
Hearing somebody coming the trio quickly ducks out of view.
They peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they break into a run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. Bri takes off her heels quickly and tosses them over the gate. Sam gives her a boost and she gets over it. Both of the brothers follow. Dean grabs his jacket.
He chuckles. "Well, these monkey suits do come in handy."
After Bri picks up her shoes, they all run off.
JERRY'S OFFICE
Jerry looks at the yellow substance through a microscope; what the microscope sees is replicated on a screen.
"Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur." He tells them.
"You're sure?" Sam pushes.
"Take a look for yourself." Jerry says before they hear banging sounds from outside the office.
"You effin' piece of crap..." A man yells.
Jerry sighs, "If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."
As Jerry leaves, Dean goes over and looks into the microscope.
"Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down—" they hear Jerry's voice.
"Hmm." Dean hums. "You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue."
"Demonic possession?" Sam suggests.
Bri nods. "Walks like a demon, talks like a demon-"
"Must be a demon." Dean finishes. "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."
"If the guy was possessed, it's possible." Sam agrees.
"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup." Dean states. "I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?"
"Either of you ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asks Bri and Dean.
"Never." Dean tells him.
"Nope." Bri agrees.
MOTEL ROOM
The trio are in pure hunt mode, with images and articles taped to the walls and strewn across the beds, and Sam is looking at something on the computer. Dean is reading something on one bed while Bri sitting on the other with her laptop.
"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu," Sam lists, "you name it."
"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Dean says.
"Well, actually-" Bri begins before Sam begins to speak over her.
"Well, that's not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."
Bri huffs in aggravation.
"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asks his brother and then gets up. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"
"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam says, looking to Dean and then Bri.
Dean snorts, turning away.
"What?" Sam asks defensively.
"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big." Dean lets out a dejected sigh. "And I wish Dad was here."
"Yeah. Me too." Sam agrees wearily.
Dean's phone rings and he answers it. "Hello?"
-Dean, it's Jerry.-
"Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean greets him.
-My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead.-
"Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"
-He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down.-
"Where'd this happen?" Dean asks , looking at Bri and Sam wearily.
–About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth–
"I'll try to ignore the irony in that." Dean grumbles.
–I'm sorry?–
"Nothing." Dean assures him. "Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon."
He hangs up.
"Another crash?" Sam asks knowingly.
"Yeah. Let's go." Dean sighs getting up.
"Where to?" Bri asks slipping on some beat up black converse.
"Nazareth."
***Jerry's office***
Jerry is again looking through a microscope.
"Sulfur?" Dean asks with a knowing look.
Jerry nods.
"Well, that's great." Dean says sarcastically. "All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."
"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam tells his brother.
"What's the bad news?" Asks Dean wearily.
"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight." Sam explains. "And get this, so did flight 2485."
"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Asks Jerry.
"It's biblical numerology." Bri tells him. "You know Noah's ark?"
Jerry nods.
"It rained for forty days. The number means death." She finishes.
"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam tells everyone.
"Any survivors?" Dean asks.
"No." Sam shakes his head. "Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?"
"No survivors." Dean and Bri say in unison.
"It's going after all the survivors." Dean concludes. "It's trying to finish the job."
Xxxxxxx
Dean is driving baby while Sam is on the phone. Rush's "Working Man" is playing and Bri is quietly singing along.
"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks."
Sam hangs up the phone. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."
"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker." Dean says.
"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm." He sighs. "It's her first night back on the job."
"That sounds like just our luck." Dean grumbles.
"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel." Sam tells his brother, who is already pushing the speed limit.
"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass." Dean tells his brother.
"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off." Sam responds. "God, we're never gonna make it."
"We'll make it." Dean says firmly.
"Have some faith in your brother, Sammy." Bri leans forward to pat Sam's shoulder.
AIRPORT – NIGHTTIME
Dean, Bri, and Sam rush into the airport and check the Departure board hoping that Amanda's flight hadn't left yet.
"Right there." Sam points out Amanda's flight. "They're boarding in thirty minutes."
"Okay. We still have some cards to play." Dean sighs. "We need to find a phone."
Looking around, Dean finds and picks up a courtesy phone.
-Airport Services-
"Hi. Gate thirteen." Dean tells the person quickly.
-Who are you calling, sir?-
"I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um..." Dean quickly tries to think of the flight number off the top of his head. "flight 4-2-4."
"Come on." Dean mumbles, hoping Amanda will pick up.
-This is Amanda Walker.-
"Miss Walker." Dean sighs in relief. "Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."
-Karen?-
"Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—" Amanda interrupts Dean.
-Wa—wait, that's impossible. I just got off the phone with her.-
Dean pauses. "You what?"
-Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?-
"Uh, well...there must be some mistake." Dean mumbles trying to look to Sam and Bri for help, but they don't know what's being said on the other line.
-And how would you even know I was here?-
Sam goes around Dean, closer to the phone to try to hear what's going on.
-Is this one of Vince's friends?-
"Guilty as charged." Dean sighs, finding a way out and taking it.
-Wow. This is unbelievable.-
"He's really sorry." Dean plays along.
-Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?-
"Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so—"
-No, I'm sorry. It's too late.-
"Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic." Dean lies.
-Really?-
"Oh, yeah." Dean pretends to be concerned about 'Vince''s well being.
-Look, I've got to go. Um...tell him to call me when I land.-
Amanda hangs up.
"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!" Dean calls her name, but she's already gone. "Damn it! So close."
"All right, it's time for plan B." Sam tells them. "We're getting on that plane."
Bri nods in agreement, but Dean starts to panic. "Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second."
He is wide-eyed and has a fearful look on his face.
"Dean," Sam say his brother's name firmly, "that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash."
"I know." Dean sighs.
"That's why we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. We'll get the tickets. You get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever will make it through the security. Meet us back here in five minutes." Bri continues reasoning to Dean.
He just looks at them anxiously.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks him, similar looks of concern etched onto both his and Bri's faces.
"No, not really." Dean admits grudgingly.
"What?" Bri asks him. "What's wrong?"
"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." Dean trails off.
"Flying?" Sam finishes incredulously.
"It's never really been an issue until now." Dean grumbles, looking at the ground in embarrassment.
"You're joking, right?" Asks Sam with wide eyes.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Dean snaps at him. "Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"
"All right." Sam sighs. "Uh, we'll go."
He motions with his finger toward himself and Bri.
"What?" Exclaims Dean.
"Bri and I can do this one on our own." Sam tells his brother.
"What are you, nuts?" He looks at them both with wide disbelieving eyes. "You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."
"Dean, we can do it together, or Sam and I can do this one by ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option, here." Bri tells Dean sternly.
"Come on! Really?" Finally with a relenting look Dean mumbles, "Man..."
HAUNTED FLIGHT
Dean is in the aisle seat, is anxiously reading the safety card.
"Just try to relax." Sam tells him calmly from his seat near the window. Bri is in the middle.
"Just try to shut up." Dean snaps at him.
The plane takes off, with Dean jumping at every rumble and sound. Sam smirks at him, while Bri comfortingly pats his shoulder.
Xxxxxx
Dean is leaning back in his seat, humming to himself. Bri has her head on his shoulder and is very softly singing to him.
Sam looks over.
"You're singing... What is that?" He asks. "Metallica?"
Bri stops singing, "yeah."
"Calms me down." Dean adds.
"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you guys have got to stay focused." Sam tells them seriously.
"Okay." They both say in unison.
"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism." Sam continues
"Yes, Sargent. Sasquatch!" Bri mockingly salutes him.
Dean scoffs, "On a crowded plane? That's gonna be easy."
"Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?" Sam looks to his brother.
"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress." Dean informs his brother and best friend.
"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up." Sam thinks aloud.
"Mm-hm." Dean hums in agreement.
Dean turns to a flight attendant. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?"
"No, I'm not."
"Oh, my mistake." Dean apologizes and the flight attendant walks away. He looks to the back of the plane to a blonde flight attendant. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."
"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asks.
"There's ways to test that." Dean says cryptically as he goes into his bag and comes out with a Virgin Mary–shaped bottle of water. "I brought holy water."
"No." Sam says as he reaches across Bri and snatches the bottle and tucks it inside his hoodie. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."
"Oh. Nice." Dean turns to go.
"Hey!" Bri stops him.
He Turns back around. "What?"
"Say it in Latin." She reminds him.
"I know." He says and begins leaves again.
"Okay." Sam mumbles. "Hey!"
"What?!" Dean snaps.
"Uh," Sam fumbles, "in Latin, it's 'Christo'."
"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!" Dean snaps at Sam again.
He makes his way to the back of the plane, bumping into a seat once when the plane shakes.
"Hi." He says, walking up to Amanda.
"Hi." Amanda greets him in return. "Can I help you with something?"
"Oh, no." Dean shakes his head. "I'm just a bit of an uneasy flier. It makes me feel better to walk around a little bit."
"Oh," Amanda chuckles, "it happens to the best of us."
"Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you."
Amanda laughs, "You'd be surprised."
"Really? You're a nervous flier?" Dean investigates.
"Yeah, maybe, little bit." Amanda admits.
"How is it that," Dean pushes, "being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?"
"Kind of a long story." Amanda says a bit uncomfortably.
"Right. I'm sorry for asking."
"It's okay."
"You ever consider other employment?" Dean asks.
"No." Amanda says a bit snappishly. "Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh...I'm not gonna let it hold me back."
"Huh." Dean huffs.
"Christo." Dean mumbles quietly.
"I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Amanda asks him.
Dean hesitates before saying louder, "Christo?"
"I—I didn't, I didn't..." Amanda stutters.
"Yeah, nothing. Never mind." Dean dismisses what he said earlier.
He returns to his seat.
"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet." He grumbles.
"You said "Christo"?" Sam asks him.
"Yeah." Dean sighs.
"You're sure?" Bri asks.
"Yes! There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her." Dean tells them.
"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.
The plane shakes.
"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean exclaims, his voice higher than usual.
"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence." Sam soothes him.
"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four." Dean leans over Bri and whispers harshly to his brother.
"You need to calm down." Sam tells him while looking to Bri for help
"Well, I'm sorry I can't." Dean says in a harsh yet scared voice.
Bri lays a hand on Dean's knee. She's never seen him this frightened. "Hey, babe," Bri whispers softly to Dean, who immediately stops grumbling at the pet name, "you need to calm down like Sammy said. If you keep freaking out the demon might come after you."
"G-guys," Dean regains himself, "stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping."
Sam and Bri audibly sighs at Bri's seemingly failed attempt to calm Dean down. "Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession like Bri said, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now."
Dean takes a long, steady breath taking Sam's advice and trying to calm his heart rate.
"Good." Sam sighs and looks down at John's old journal. "Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."
"What do we have to do?" Dean asks him.
"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."
"More powerful?" Dean asks doubtfully.
"Yeah." Sam nods.
"Ain't that just peachy?..." Mutters Bri sarcastically under her breath.
"How?" Dean leans over Bri, trying to get a peek at the leather bound old journal.
"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore." Sam tells him. "It can just wreak havoc on its own."
"Oh. And why is that a good thing?" Questions Dean.
"Well," Sam looks up from the boom and at his brother and Bri, "because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all."
"First things first-" Dean begins.
"We got to find it." Bri finishes for him with a sigh.
Dean walks slowly up the aisle with his homemade EMF meter, getting odd looks from some of the passengers but no readings. He jumps suddenly when a hand lands on his shoulder.
"Ah! Don't do that." He tells Bri when he turns around to see her sheepish face and Sam walking up behind her.
"Sorry!" She smiles.
"Anything?" Sam asks him.
"No, nothing. How much time we got?" Questions Dean.
"Uh, Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody." Suggests Bri after looking at her watch.
"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane." Dean bites back.
"You believe that?" Asks Sam, cutting off Bri before she can make a snide remark back.
"Well, I will if you will." He looks down as the EMF meter spikes. At the same time the copilot exits the bathroom and heads towards the cockpit.
"What? What is it?" Sam whispers urgently.
But Dean only mutters, "Christo." Loud enough for the three and the copilot to hear.
The copilot turns slowly to face them. His eyes are black. He then goes into the cockpit. Dean looks at Sam and Bri.
xxxxxx
Sam, Bri, and Dean head to the back of the plane towards Amanda.
"She's not gonna believe this." Mutters Sam.
"Twelve minutes, dude." Dean reminds him.
"It's gotta work." Adds Bri.
"Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope." Amanda says, noticing the trio.
"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." Dean says as Sam closes the curtain.
"Um, okay." Amanda says a bit uncomfortably. "What can I do for you?"
"All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now." Dean begins bluntly.
Sam sighs at his brother's lack of tact. "All right, look, we know you were on flight 2485."
Amanda's previously warm smile disappears. "Who are you three?"
"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors." Sam disregards her previous question. "We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure."
Dean continues, "We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now."
"I'm sorry, I—I'm very busy." Amanda stutters. "I have to go back—"
She tries to brush past Dean, who stops her with no problem. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead."
"Wait." Amanda stops trying to get away. "What? What, Chuck is dead?"
"He died in a plane crash." Dean tells her. "Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"
"I—" Sam cuts her off.
"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too."
"Amanda, you have to believe us." Bri practically begs, looking at her watch nervously.
"On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes." Amanda remembers.
"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about." Sam assures her.
"I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?" Amanda asks the hunters.
"Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here." Dean instructs her.
"Why?" Amanda questions him. "What does he have to do with anything?"
"Don't have time to explain." Dean says quickly. "We just need to talk to him. Okay?"
"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—" Sam cuts Amanda off again.
"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit."
"Do you know that I could lose my job if you—" this one Bri cuts Amanda off. She's ticked off.
"Okay, well you're damn well gonna lose a lot more than a job if you don't help us out."
Amanda hesitates, "Okay.
She leaves and goes to the cockpit. She knocks on the door and says something inaudible to the copilot, who follows her back. Sam discretely pulls out the holy water as Dean pulls out John's journal and hands it to him. He opens it.
"Yeah, what's the problem? The possessed copilot says unknowingly to Amanda as he walks in.
Dean punches him in the face, effectively knocking him down. He pins him on the ground and puts duct tape over his mouth.
"Wait. What are you doing?" Amanda begins to panic. "You said you were just gonna talk to him."
"We are gonna talk to him." Dean splashes holy water on his skin, which sizzles as he howls in pain.
"Oh, my god." Amanda shrieks. "What's wrong with him?"
"Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam tells her in a calm voice.
"Well, I don't underst—I don't know—" Amanda stumbles over her words, still staring at the copilot with a mortified look.
"Do not and I repeat not let anyone in, Amanda. Okay?" Bri asks firmly, while helping Dean keep the struggling copilot down.
"Okay. Okay." Amanda rushes outside of the curtain pulling it closed briskly.
With a huff dean looks at Sam. "Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer we can hold him."
"Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—" Sam begins the exorcism.
The demon breaks free, slamming Bri against the wall knocking her breath away and making her hit her head. He hits both Sam and Dean until Dean manages to subdue him again. Sam picks up where he left off and Bri is still regaining his demon suddenly knocks Dean off of him again and pulls the tape off his mouth. He grabs Sam by the collar, interrupting his chant.
"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" The demon tells him snidely. "She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!"
Dean recovers and hits the demon as Sam sits there, stunned. His thoughts are once again consumed with visions of Jessica on the ceiling, a wide spot of blood on her nightgown, engulfed in flames.
"Sam!" Dean's voice brings Sam out of his terrifying memories.
He begins reading again. He puts the book down and helps Dean pin down the demon, who kicks the book up the aisle.
"I got him." Sam tells his brother.
The demon exits the copilot's body and disappears into a vent.
"Where'd it go?" Sam looks at his brother.
"It's in the plane. Hurry up. We got to finish it." Dean tells him. "Bri you good?"
"No. I can't see." She panics. "It feels like I got stabbed in the head and everything's blurry."
"Great," Dean runs his hand through his hair, "you probably have a concussion."
The plane suddenly dips and heaves violently. Sam struggles to retrieve the journal as Bri screams and Dean dives to her, wrapping his arms around her.
"I've gotcha." he mutters in a terrified voice, his arms clutching around her waist for dear life.
Sam manages to grab the journal and reads the rest of the exorcism quickly. A bright electrical charge runs through the entire plane, which then levels out.
Various people ask if everyone's okay. Amanda sighs in relief. Dean presses a kiss into Bri's temple and then stands up with her clutching him for support. They comes out from behind the curtain. Sam stands up.
"Are you alright Bri?" He asks, concerned
She only groans in resonate nestling her head into Dean's shoulder.
He runs a hand over her hair to smooth it down. "Cherry Pie's got herself a concussion by the looks of it."
xxxxxx
"Let's get out of here." Dean says, an arm slung around Bri, with a bandage on her fire head. She recently got diagnosed with a mild concussion at one of the ambulances that went to the airport.
The trio head for the exit.
"You okay?" Dean turns to Sam.
He stops and turns. "Dean, it knew about Jessica."
"Sammy," Bri sighs, "these are demons we're talking about here. They are exactly truthful."
"Yeah." Sam sighs defeatedly.
"Come on." Dean says to him, nodding toward the car.
"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed." Jerry shakes the trio's hands. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."
"We'll see you around, Jerry." Sam says to him and Bri waves.
They begin to head off.
"You know, Jerry." Dean stops.
"Yeah?"
"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months." Dean's brow furrows in confusion.
"Your dad gave it to me." Jerry tells them.
"What?" Sam asks with wide eyes.
"When did you talk to him?"
"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys." Jerry leaves.
xxxxxxx
"This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service." Sam shakes his head in disbelief.
Dean quickly dials a number. As the voice message begins, he puts it on speaker so Sam and Bri can hear too.
-This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.-
Fuming, Sam turns and gets in the car. Bri pats Dean's shoulder and they both follow.