Chapter 6: The Devil's Vinyl

Chicago, Illinois

A blonde haired woman was walking through an abandoned house with a flashlight in hand. The house was a wreckage, it was covered in clutter. There were flies buzzing all around animal carcuses that were hanging from the ceiling. As she looked around, she jumped after seeing her reflection in a mirror. She then walked toward a wall and knelt as she looked at what looked like a satanic circle painted on it. Once she found a certain part of the wall she smashed through it allowing indistinct whispers to be heard within and pulled a book titled Holy Bible out which was covered by a bag of some kind then opened the bible by the gap that was between two pages. She found a record inside of the box.

"Oh," the woman whispered to herself, "My god. It's real."

Some minutes later…

A blonde man with was sitting in a chair as she walked into his record studio.

"Bernie," the woman said as Bernie stood up to greet her, "Thanks for seeing me."

"No worries, Darling," Bernie said with a smile as he hugged her then asked, "Can I get you something? Shot of tequila perhaps?"

"I'm good," the woman said kindly.

"Are we alone?" the woman asked as she looked around.

"Yeah," Bernie replied as the woman pulled out the record which was now covered in a cloth.

"Wait!" the woman said before he could grab it, "You should put on some gloves!"

"The acetate is old," the woman said causing Bernie to laugh as she pulled out surgical gloves, "The oil from your fingers could damage it."

Once the man had put the gloves on he picked up the record and peered at it before he said, "It's freezing."

He then removed the cloth from the record as he asked, "You been keeping it in the icebox or something?"

"Just run the spectrum analysis, Bernie," the woman said impatiently as Bernie removed the record from the box, "I need to know if it's genuine, and whatever you do, don't actually…"

"Listen to the damn thing," Bernie finished as he turned towards an advanced record player and analyzer, "You made that clear."

While he was placing the vynil in place to the device, the woman's phone began ringing. She pulled it out to check the caller id and saw her daughter's photo. She looked back at Bernie with an nervous look on her face at the prospect of leaving Bernie alone with the acetate.

"Promise me Bernie," the woman asked seriously.

"Hear no evil," Bernie replied when he looked back up from the acetate, "I swear. I'll get you when I'm done. Now sod off, luv."

As the woman left the room she looked back at Bernie one last time. Bernie put the needle on the acetate to begin analysis and the women entered the room next to it which was separated by as glass wall. The man pulled off his gloves and turned away from the device on the table.

"I'll be home as soon as I can, honey," the woman assured as she headed towards a waiting chair.

"I love you mommy," a young girl's voice said through the woman's phone causing her to laugh as she said, "Oh."

Inside of the record room Bernie was just sitting down watching the screen that performed the analysis of the record intently as he fiddled with some sliding controls. He then looked down at the headphones before looking towards the glass at the woman who was still on her phone. She was not sitting anymore and with her back to him. The man then grabbed the headphones that he turned on and heard some of the music to come out of it before he put it on his head and leaned back.

"Crows gonna fly," were the last three words he heard before he gasped some frost out of his mouth and heard screaming. Bernie grabbed at the headphones in surprise from the cold and the increase in volume.

In the other room the woman had now sat down again with gloves on, but this time she was unrolling an old piece of parchment she could look it over and saw some of the words fading away. Back in the record room the man began grunting in pain as he held his hands to the headphones while he stood up. He then began screaming in pain and as his head turned it became evident that the headphones were freezing over. While he screamed lights were flickering and he fell over. When he finally got the headphones off you could see his ears bleeding heavily. He then threw the headphones away from himself causing them to unplug from the machine, but he wasn't paying attention as the music started blaring and he continued screaming in pain. The turntable kept playing the record and garbled sounds could be heard.

"No!" he cried out, "Don't make me do it!"

He then grabbed a screwdriver which lay on top of the record analyzer and shouted as he raised the screwdriver up to his right side ear and stabbed himself. That caused him to to fall against the glass wall as he continued shouting. That also got the attention of the woman who got startled and rushed to see if he was okay. However the still playing turntable with the record was freezing over and she began screaming as well.

Meanwhile, in Jefferson, Missouri…

Dean was currently in the bed of a hotel room he had rented the evening prior. The only thing different about Dean's hotel room was that it only had one bed and he wasn't even breathing. There were empty beer bottles laying all over the place which have yet to be thrown out.

In another realm…

"Where the hell am I?" Dean asked no one in particular as he looked around the blackness of his surroundings. All he could see was blackness, but he could also make out shapes of what looked to be bodies. He could not tell if he was just seeing things though, as is normally the case in a pitch black location. Unknown to him one of the shapes stood up and looked his way.

"Hello?" Dean called out, "Anyone there?"

Just like before there was no answer, but this time he began to get a prickly sensation. He felt as if he was being watched.

"I know you're out there," Dean called out, "Show yourself, and face me like a man."

"That is so cliche," said a voice behind Dean which sounded exactly like his. Dean suddenly whirled around and raised his eyes when he saw… himself.

"What are you?" Dean asked, "You're not a shifter or Asmodeus, are you?"

"Oh I'm just your friendly neighborhood cosmic entity," Doppelganger-Dean said, "Now why don't you tell me how in creation you're here?"

"Would if I could," Dean replied, "The last thing I remember was… stopping at a gas station to fill up my car."

"All I understood was 'would if I could,'" Doppel-Dean said, "The only things that exist in this void are dead angels, demons, and yours truly. You however are human. If you had died you would've been sent to heaven, hell, or one of the other afterlifes."

"Wait," Dean said, "This is Angel-heaven?"

"I suppose that's a way of looking at it," Doppel-Dean said, "Well if you're going to stay why don't you just go to sleep, because if anything here is awake I'm awake and I hate being awake."

"Sorry buster," Dean said, "I'm not just going to lay down and go to sleep. I'm going to find Cas, wake him up, and then he and I are going to bust out of this joint."

"One being awake is bad enough but two?" Doppel-Dean said getting angry, "I won't stand for it!"

"Too bad bucko," Dean said, "Cause that's what you're going to get."

"Maybe I should just send you back right now," Doppel-Dean said.

"Without Cas?" Dean said, "Nah, I don't think so."

You don't have a choice," Doppel-Dean said as he reached out to grab Dean.

"Cas!" Dean yelled, "Wake up Cas! We need your help! Lucifer's little monster… Jack… needs your help! You wake up, and then you force this entity to send you back to Earth! I'll be waiting!"

"Gah!" Doppel-Dean cringed before he snarled, "I'm going to put your angel back to sleep, and you'll never know you had a chance at bringing him back to life."

"If you think that's what's going to happen then you're in for a surprise," Dean said with a smirk, "You don't know Cas like I do. You may have my face, but you don't have my memories. Cas is as stubborn as it gets. Nothing can out-stubborn him."

Doppel-Dean growled then punched Dean, causing him to fall down and squeeze his eyes shut.

Back in Dean's hotel room…

"Man I have one killer hangover," Dean groaned as he opened his eyes. He then closed them again to let the pain reduce before pulling himself out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom in order to relieve his stomach of yesterday's food and drinks. He then decided to take a shower in order to rid himself of the vomit that clung inside of his mouth and to clean up after he smelled his armpits and looked at his oily hair.

When he was done he put on a change of clothes and began packing things up. When he picked up his cellphone he saw that he had a voice message to listen to once he was on the road.

"Garth?" Dean asked as he looked at the phone number in the missed calls section, "This oughta be interesting."

Dean then redialed Garth as he began cleaning up the mess he made a night before. It took a few minutes to clean up the mess, but just as he had finished Garth answered the phone.

"Dean!" Garth said in his usual excitement, "What's up man."

"Garth!" Dean said cringing, "Not so loud. I'm having one hell of a hangover right now."

"Oh, sorry man," Garth replied, "Anyhoo I called earlier because I found a job for you."

"Why can't you handle it?" Dean grunted as he began packing up his stuff.

"Two reasons," Garth replied as his tone became a bit more serious, "I'm nowhere close to it, and according to Sam you're the closest hunter."

"Hrmph," Dean said sourly, "What is the other reason."

"Me and my family are kind of laying low right now," Garth said sadly, "The rising darkness is screwing with us. Whenever we get anywhere close to humans the wolf inside begins to get stronger."

"The hell is the rising darkness anyway?" Dean asked as he picked up his stuff and headed towards the hotel room's exit.

"No idea man," Garth replied, "I only know about it cause I heard it from another hunter who heard it from another, and so on, and so forth."

"Yeah," Dean replied as he went down the hallway to the elevator, "Now what was this job?"

"Back to business then," Garth replied, "A British man by the name of Bernie Reed stabbed himself in the ear with a screwdriver in Chicago, Illinois."

"One has to be pretty desperate to commit suicide to use a screwdriver to do so," Dean replied as he passed a couple who were walking with a child trailing them who stared at him with a freaked out expression.

"It's not your average suicide either Dean," Garth replied, "Never mind the force required to do that, but according to the coroner's report he was bleeding from his ears combined with some frostbite around his ears as well."

"I'll check it out," Dean replied, "Stay safe Garth."

"You too, Dean," Garth replied before he paused for a second, "I suggest you call Sam."

"Sam and I are done," Dean said grumpily, "There's no reuniting with each other now."

Before Garth could respond Dean ended the call as he made it to the front office. Before he exited the building the secretary who was a woman in her mid-20s beckoned him over.

"Did you need something?" Dean asked the secretary.

"Yeah," the woman said as she handed him a piece a paper with a phone number on it, "Next time you're in Jefferson City, Missouri look me up."

"Will do," Dean said with a flirtatious smirk, "see ya around sweet cheeks."

"Mmmm," the woman said, "You better, or I'll hire a bounty hunter."

"I really do have to go," Dean said as he headed towards the exit, "We'll definitely see each other again one day."

Meanwhile, at Chicago, Illinois…

John Constantine and the Mexican woman from before were currently outside of a hospital in the parking lot. In the background there were sirens, and a woman in dark blue scrubs was walking away from the building while a grey haired man in a suit was heading towards it. As soon as Constantine reached the hood of the truck that he took a ride in he plopped the black worn carpet bag onto the hood.

"What's in the man-purse?" the Mexican woman asked as Constantine opened the bag.

"Bits and bobs," Constantine replied as he searched through it, "Holy water, police scanner, cemetery dirt, duct tape…"

"What's this?" the woman asked as she pulled out a rock and a nail.

"Oh, oh!" Constantine said as he grabbed the objects from her hand, "Don't touch. These… are the nails from the coffin of St. Padua."

"Patron of lost souls," Constantine continued as he picked up another nail, "Watch. The nails follow one another. Tuck one of these in a bloke's pocket, you got yourself a nifty tracking device."

As Constantine moved the nail in his hand in a circle and the other nail on the rock pointed at it without failing in its task. Zed looked at him unimpressed.

"Now, if only I brought something to get through that bloody door," Constantine said to himself as he put the rock and nails back in the bag before glancing at the entrance. The Mexican woman smirked and walked off for a bit before she 'accidentally' bumped into a passersby.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry," the woman said apologetically, "Sorry. Clumsy!"

"It's alright," the man in the scrubs said as he continued his way. Zed, on the other hand, walked back to Constantine and revealed that she had taken the man's hospital ID card.

"Like this?" the woman asked causing Constantine sigh and then to chuckle at her quick thinking.

A couple minutes later inside the morgue…

Dean Winchester wearing his 'monkey suit' was currently in the morgue examining the corpse, and he honestly had no idea what he was looking for. He knew about the frostbite, but other than that there was no sign of anything that could've been supernatural in origin. As Dean stood up straight again he heard the sound of footsteps, and since there was a huge window next to the main entrance he couldn't exactly hide next to the door. He hurried around the room searching for anywhere to hide, but just as he found the perfect spot, the door opened.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" demanded a British voice, "Are you the one responsible for Bernie's death?!"

"I'm Federal Agent Levi," Dean said as he turned around and pulled out his badge, "At this moment I'm investigating the late Bernie Reed's death."

"Let me see that," Constantine said as he snatched the badge from Dean.

"John," the woman said quietly. When Constantine looked at her she leaned forward into his ear and whispered, "He was in my drawings as well. Remember? You saw them the day we met."

"Then that means he's clearly not Federal Agent Zachary Levi," Constantine whispered back as he folded the badge close.

"Can I have that back?" Dean asked impatiently, "And what are you two whispering about?"

"Have your fake ID back," Constantine said tossing it at Dean who caught it, "Now why don't you tell me who you really are."

"I just told you," Dean persisted, "I'm-"

"You may as well as tell the truth," Constantine advised, "Zed here has seen you in her visions, and quite frankly… her visions are always about those connected to the supernatural. I know for a fact that federal agents don't involve themselves in supernatural affairs, and when they do they generally don't survive."

"Visions?" Dean blinked, "That's just… no way."

"I'm not pulling your leg," Constantine said, "I'm being very serious."

"When aren't you?" Zed asked.

"I have my moments," Constantine replied.

"Your mother didn't happen to die in a fire, did she?" Dean asked Zed. Hopefully she's just psychic but he might as well check all the basics to make sure she's a potential threat.

"That's a bit of a specific question," Constantine remarked, "She won't answer it by the way. I've known her a day and then some, but I still don't know a single thing about her."

"What about a man with yellow eyes?" Dean asked ignoring Constantine. At that Zed's face went pale.

"Yellow eyes?" Constantine asked, "The only beings I know of that have yellow eyes are Princes of Hell. Now I really do have to know who you are."

"Fine," Dean said, "I have no time to continue evading this so here it is. My name is Dean Winchester."

"Winchester?" Constantine asked, "Well ain't that a kick in the pants. You and your brother are famous. I may have not been out of the Asylum that long, but the word about you has it said that both of you have been to hell and back."

"Don't remind me," grunted Dean.

"What's it like by the way?" Constantine asked.

"I don't know," Dean said, "It's been under new management for a while now. Now let's just get to the matter at hand. What are you doing here and who are you?"

"I'm John Constantine and I'm here the same as you I expect," Constantine replied as he turned towards Bernie's corpse, "I'm here to find out what happened to Bernie."

"Then shall we do this case together?" Dean asked curious as to Constantine's style.

"I work alone mate," Constantine said before he remembered Zed was in the room, "Zed's the exception."

"I do now as well," Dean said, "You may as well accept my help, because I'm not leaving until this job is done."

"Fine," Constantine grunted, "Just don't get in my bloody way."

"Oh, damn it, Bernie," Constantine said sadly as he took in Bernie's appearance, "Look at the state of you."

"How did you two know each other?" Zed asked curiously.

"Well," Constantine replied as he opened his black carpet bag, "Back in Jurassic times, I fronted a punk band called Mucous Membrane."

Zed looked at him with wide eyes while Dean just shrugged, which caused Constantine to smirk.

"Yeah," Constantine said, "That's right. I wasn't always an upstanding Warlock. Bernie here produced our very first and only record."

"He tried his best," Constantine continued causing Zed to chuckle, "but… to tell you the truth, we were just a bunch of wankers trying to get laid. And here we are. Reunited for one finale comeback tour."

"Courtesy of… this," Constantine said as he pulled a stiff african american hand out of his bag, "Hand of Glory."

"That's real dark magic," Dean said narrowing his eyes.

"Aye it is," Constantine agreed, "Bloody useful though. You take the left hand of a man that's been hanged, pickle it in amniotic fluid for seven years, say the right incantation, and the dead will rise for as long as the candles burn."

"Here," Constantine said as he handed Zed a blood bag, "Empty this on the floor."

Dean looked on stiffly and prepared for the worst.

"Okay," Zed said as she did so in a circle around the morgue bed while Constantine lit the fingertips of the hand on fire with a lighter.

"Hear me, most Unnamable of Devourers… he who guardeth the Golden Gateway…" Constantine chanted while holding the Hand of Glory up, "I seek an audience with one in your embrace." Zed finished the circle and stared intently at the burning hand curious to see what will happen next.

"Come on old sod," Constantine said as he looked down at the body and Zed's and Dean's gaze followed his to stare at the corpse. Constantine frowned when it didn't seem to work, then suddenly Bernie's body lurched up into a sitting position. The corpses in the body bags suddenly began to writhe about. The sounds of undead moaning could be heard throughout the morgue.

"Hold this," Constantine said as he handed the Hand of Glory to Dean when Zed backed away in disgust. Dean hesitated at first, but in the end he took it.

"Bernie, Bernie!" Constantine urged, "It's John. Who did this to you?"

"The voice," Bernie said in an inhuman tone, "My god! T-t-t-the v-v-v-voice."

Dean who was holding the Hand of Glory looked down at it as he heard one of the fingers hiss as the fire went out. Seems like the Hand of Glory has a time limit, Dean just hoped they can get what they need in time.

"I… I don't understand, Bernie," Constantine said in confusion, "I don't understand."

"On the acetate," Bernie said staring out at nothing, "So cold."

"No, no bring the hand closer," Constantine ordered as Bernie began to lie back onto the bed, "come on, Bernie, don't leave me. Give me something else, give me something else, Bernie. Come on."

"Moonrise," Bernie said quietly as the flames on the hand went out causing all the bodies to become still and silent once more including Bernie's.

"Rest in peace mate," Constantine said as he closed Bernie's eyelids.

"Moonrise," Dean muttered to himself, "Where have I heard that?"

A minute later…

Dean walked out of the building and back towards his Impala while Constantine and Zed on the other hand went to her truck. While Dean was walking back towards his car he kept racking his brain as to why he recognized the name or title 'Moonrise.' However, he couldn't make heads or tails as to why so as he arrived at his Impala he pulled out a phone and began looking through his contacts till he found Jodie Mills' number.

While he waited for Jodie to answer he got into the driver's side of the car and started it. When Jodie picked up Dean was already on the street towards the hotel room that he had already rented earlier in the day.

"Hey Dean," Jodie said in greeting, "Sorry about Cas."

"Yeah," Dean said as he made a turn.

"So what did you need?" Jodie asked.

"Maybe I'm just calling to say hi," Dean said slightly smirking.

"I know you better than that," Jodie said, "You never call unless you need something, so spill."

"I need you to find out what 'Moonrise' is," Dean said just as he parked in the hotel parking lot.

"Moonrise?" Jodie asked, "Okay, but aren't you with Sam? He's the research expert of the two of you after all."

"We parted ways for good," Dean said as he exited the Impala and made his way to his hotel room, "Now hunting is a solo act for me."

"Well whatever it is I'm sure you two will get back in each other's good graces," Jodie said, "Till then, I'll just tell you what I can. I'll call you back as soon as I have the info. Ttyl."

"Ttyl?" Dean asked in confusion as he sat down on his bed and loosened the tie.

"It's text talk," Jodie explained, "'Ttyl' means 'talk to you later.'"

"Oh," Dean said, "Kind of pointless, but okay. Talk to you soon."

After Dean ended the call and placed his phone onto the bedside table. A minute later he was conked out in his bed. A second later he opened his eyes and saw a familiar shape, and when he blinked a couple times he widened his eyes at the sight.

"Bobby?" Dean said in shock.

"What are you looking at me like that for," Bobby asked as he noticed Dean's expression.

"I thought you were…" Dean trailed off.

"Thought I was what Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Maybe it was all a terrible nightmare," Dean muttered to himself.

"You need to pull yourself together boy," Bobby said, "We still have to send Lucifer back into the cage. Sam and Castiel are waiting for us."

"I'll be right there Bobby," Dean said now back to his normally slightly cheerful self then muttered, "This time I'm going to make sure that we do things right."

Later…

Dean had just arrived at the city where Sam was to confront Lucifer, but when he got there Sam and Cas were nowhere to be seen but Bobby was there.

"Bobby?" Dean said in confusion, "Where's Sam and Cas?"

"You know exactly where he is boy," Bobby said, "You need to go to him."

"He's supposed to be here Bobby," Dean said, "We're supposed to send Lucifer back to the cage, remember?"

"Of course I remember ya idget," Bobby said, "I also remembered that we failed the first time and the only time we had success was when Sam fell into the cage taking Micheal with him."

"How do you…" Dean began shocked.

"How do I know about that?" Bobby said, "Use your noggin, will ya. You weren't sent back in time. This is all in your head. You're dreaming, boy."

"You're saying that your the personification of my conscious," Dean said skeptically.

"Course not," Bobby said, "I'm as real as you or Sam. It's just not that easy to speak to ya from heaven. I can't exactly teleport down to ya."

"Well," Dean said, "Then you should know that Sam and I are done."

"You're brothers, Dean," Bobby said, "You can never be done. Now wake your ass up and call him." Bobby knew that Dean could be impulsive and in times like these he needed to be reminded to get his act together.

"I told him to never come back Bobby," Dean said, "There's no way I can open that door again." After everything that happened he just wanted to deal with something that was straightforward, something with an easy answer. With everything that piled up: Jack disappeared, Cas died, his mom's gone, Hades showed up proclaiming himself Dean's father and Sam chose the demigods side. Why couldn't it be like the good old days? There were two sides: good and evil. Why did everything have to be complicated. Why couldn't there be simple things. A simple hunt. A simple solution.

"If you and Sam don't reconnect then I guess you're shit outta luck," Bobby said.

"Bobby," Dean said, "You don't understand."

"Then make me boy!" Bobby yelled, "Make me understand why you and your brother won't close that gap between you two!"

"Sam's trying to help demigods survive Bobby," Dean said, "They're monsters and they deserve to be hunted!"

"The hell is wrong with you?" Bobby asked, "You became besties with a demon and you spared his life when you could've killed him! Now you're thinking like the bloodthirsty hunter your father raised you as?!" Bobby was saw how Dean was trying to cope but he needed to be reminded of how life worked.

"Well I've regained my senses Bobby!" Dean yelled.

"The hell you have!" Bobby yelled back, "you've turned into Gordon! You remember how insane he was!" Gordon drew a line in the sand and wouldn't let himself be swayed. He saw life as he wanted it to be, but nothing in life is ever clear-cut.

"Don't you dare compare me to that douchebag!" Dean hollered, "I'm nothing like him!"

"You really are hopeless if you can't see what you've become," Bobby sighed, "If I can't reach your stupid self then maybe HE can."

"What?" Dean said in confusion. When Bobby flickered away Dean saw a shadow walk towards him, and when the shadow got into the light Dean widened his eyes in realization as he said, "Dad?"

"Hey Dean," John Winchester said, "I've missed you and Sam so much."

"No you didn't," Dean said, "You were in heaven imagining yourself with mom."

"Maybe at first," John admitted, "But later on I became aware of the going's on in the world of the living."

"Is it true that I'm actually the son of the Greek God of the Underworld?" Dean asked. He didn't let his anticipation show.

"Yes," John said. He didn't let any regret show on his face. Dean was his son and it doesn't matter who his biological father was.

"Did you always know?" Dean asked.

"No," John replied, "I found out in Hell while Alistair was torturing me. I had assumed it was a form of mental torture, but he wasn't the only one that told me."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Dean asked, "Do the right thing by killing all the demigods including myself?"

"Course not," John said, "You still hunt, but now you have to be more like Sam instead of like me. I would've hunted them indiscriminately, but you don't have to follow my example."

"I just feel like I always lose Dad," Dean said, "I lost Mom again, Cas, Charlie, you, Bobby, Benny, Kevin, Gabriel, and Jo. Hell, even Meg the demon bitch who had you abducted and Crowley the King of Hell. Kane too."

"I have a feeling that you'll get a big win soon Dean," John said, "Now you go wake up and find Sam."

Meanwhile, with the blonde woman…

The woman who found the acetate was now clothed in a black shirt that had it's collar resting it's left side on top of her left arm below her shoulder. The woman pulled out a square object covered in white cloth from her purse. On her hands were black gloves which she rubbed the white cloth with while holding it in her left hand. As she did so she let out a visible puff of breath at a sudden decrease in temperature. She slowly looked around anxiously looking for a place to hide it. The woman looked behind her at the bookshelf full of records. She walked up to to the left side of the shelf and pushed the records on the top shelf to the right side making room for the acetate. After that she slowly but surely put the cloth-covered record into the bookshelf and pushed the records back into place to keep it hidden from view.

"Mom?" a girl's voice asked startling the woman causing her to gasp as she turned around quickly, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," the woman lied innocently, "I… I was just…"

The woman huffed then tilted her head and looked at the girl with a serious expression as she asked, "Why are you up?"

"I had a nightmare," the girl replied looking at her mother with wide frightened eyes.

"Aw," the woman said as she took off her gloves so she could walk over to her and kneel in front of her, "baby."

"Someone was trying to take you away from me," the girl explained.

"I'm not going anywhere," the woman said firmly as she pulled the girl into a hug, "Julilah."

"Mom?" the girl asked again when she saw the bookshelf freezing over.

"Yeah," the woman replied.

"What's that?" the girl continued causing the woman to turn around and when she did her face morphed into a scared expression.

At the Devonshire Nursing Facility with Constantine…

"Hi," Constantine said in a southern accent, "We're here to see Marcus Mooney."

"Visiting hours are over," the overweight African American nurse replied from her station at the secretary's desk as she looked at Constantine and Zed. She quickly went back to her work on the computer.

"Hey!" said a familiar gruff voice from behind Constantine and Zed, "What are you two doing here?!"

"Oh bollocks," Constantine muttered under his breath before he turned around and saw Dean walking towards them in a monkey suit.

"Answer the question, crumpet," Dean ordered.

"Hello again Agent what's-it," Constantine said, "I'm here on business, so if you don't mind I'm going to continue it."

"Are these two causing you trouble?" Dean asked the nurse ignoring Constantine.

"They're trying to come in and visit a patient called Marcus Mooney," the nurse replied, "Normally I'd let them go in, but visiting hours are over."

"Tell you what, Tammy," Dean said after a glimpse at her name tag, he pulled out his FBI badge, "I'll get rid of these two jokers if you give me his room number."

"What does the FBI want with an old dying man?" Tammy asked as she raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"That's classified," Dean lied.

"By who?" Tammy asked, "God?"

"Course not," Dean scoffed, "God's probably galavanting around the universe with his needy sister right now. The government classified it, and I can't tell you why cause that too is classified."

"Fine," the nurse relented, "just get them out of my sight. The room's 2022."

"Thank you ma'am," Dean said before grabbing Constantine and Zed by their arms and dragging them out of the building. He then gently pushed Zed from the building, but pushed not so gently on Constantine causing him to fall onto the ground.

"Don't let me catch you two amateurs investigating in federal matters again," Dean said before going back into the building.

"That was a bit rude," Zed frowned as she helped Constantine up to his feet.

"Aye," Constantine replied, "Can't say I haven't done worse though."

"That was a double negative," Zed said raising an eyebrow.

"Don't you go all english teacher on me Zed," Constantine said, "Besides while the plan didn't go entirely well we got what we need. The old geezer's room number. Off to room 2022."

In room 2022…

Dean slowly entered the room and saw an old man lying on a hospital bed connected to medical machines.

"Who are you?" the old man asked when Dean got in front of his bed.

"I'm Agent Russell," Dean said as he showed the old man his badge.

"I haven't met many federal agents that have had shadows dogging their souls," the old man said before he coughed.

"Having to do what I do for the sake of good does that to a person," Dean said sincerely.

"Couldn't have said it better mate," a familiar Liverpudlian voice said from the doorway.

"How'd you get back in?" Dean said as he widened his eyes.

"That's the thing about hospitals," Constantine said, "So many entrances and exits. Now I would apologize for this, but I don't want to."

"Apologize for wha-" began Dean before Constantine punched him hard on the face.

"That was for tossing me onto my arse," Constantine said in irritation.

"Hit me again," Dean glared, "and I'll shoot you."

"Boys," Zed said sternly, "We're on the same side. Now stop trying to be the alpha male and get along. We really don't need all the testosterone in the air screwing up the case do we?"

"Fine," Dean said, "The sooner the job is finished, the sooner I can leave and hopefully never see your face again."

"Feeling's mutual yankee," Constantine replied.

"I'm from Kansas not New York," Dean corrected, "New Yorkers are yankees."

"Boys!" Zed nearly shouted, "we have a job to do!"

"Alright, alright," Dean and Constantine said in unison.

"That one has a shadow too," the old man said getting their attention as he looked at Constantine.

"More than one, Marcus," Constantine said calmly, "I'm John Constantine. I need some help. I'm here to ask about the acetate."

"Lord," Marcus began to panic, "Don't tell me you've played it."

"No," Constantine said, "But a friend of mine might've. And now he's dead. You care to shed some light on the matter."

"You ever heard of…" the old man asked, "Willie Cole?"

"A Memphis Bluesman," Dean said, "Burned bright in the '30s, and then just vanished like the invisible man."

"I used to produce him," the old man explained as he flashed back to the memory, "I had an old recording studio."

"I know you like to sing alone," young Marcus said, "So I'll leave you to it."

"All right," the african american man said before getting ready to start his music while young Marcus prepared the record.

"Willie's legend was," old Marcus said, "he sold his soul to the devil. Never put much stock in that."

"Dumbass," Dean muttered under his breath as he knows from firsthand experience how deal's like those end up.

"Shadow's gonna rise…" Willie sang.

"Turns out," the old Marcus continued, "the acetate he was working on… recorded something when he died."

"Bitch dogs gonna howl…" Willie continued.

"The voice of the deceiver," old Marcus said.

"No, no, no, no," Dean said suddenly, "I apologize in advance pal but that wasn't the Devil."

"What?" Marcus said in confusion, "what are you talking about?"

"The Devil was locked up in his cage in Hell," Dean explained, "There was no way he could've been free in the 30s. It's not as if the apocalypse happened back then as my brother and I weren't born by that time. Yellow eyes hadn't enacted his plan yet either."

"What kind of fed are you?" Marcus asked.

"Truth is," Dean said, "I'm not a federal agent. I'm a hunter. I hunt all sorts of monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, you name it. Chances are, I've hunted whatever you could name."

"What about an Invanche?" Constantine smirked.

"A what?" Dean asked.

"Looks like I've found something you haven't killed yet," Constantine said before turning back to Marcus, "You can continue your story Marcus."

"Wasn't nothing left except for blood," Old Marcus continued, "When I picked up the acetate, I heard whispers. I… in… my head. Voices… telling me to do horrible things, and… and it was cold to the touch. It was so cold."

"Why didn't you destroy it?" Zed asked kindly.

"Well, don't you think I tried?" Marcus answered, "I… nothing worked, so I buried it, I… hid it. I sealed it up in the wall, and I prayed."

"Any idea how Bernie came across it?" Constantine asked.

"Private investigator," Marcus answered, "come to see me just last week. Knew about the legend. Wanted to buy the acetate."

"The private investigator," Dean asked, "he didn't happen to mention who he worked for, did he?"

"Oh, no," Marcus replied, "But I saw a name on the check: Fell."

"You did very good, Marcus," Zed said kindly.

"I think it's time for me…" Marcus said, "to go to my reward."

"Why do you say that?" Zed asked.

"I see an angel standing there," Marcus said as he pointed to a spot in the room.

Dean raised an eyebrow before he looked where Marcus was pointing and saw an African American man standing behind constantine with legit wings. However, as soon as he blinked the man was gone. Dean opened his mouth to remark on that, but he thought it was a better idea to keep the info a secret cause he didn't want to seem crazy. As that thought was going through his head the medical alarms sounded as Marcus began to gasp.

"You two!" Dean said urgently as he pushed on Constantine and Zed, "Get yourselves out of here. I'll stay and go get the nurses cause I'm allowed to be here. You, on the other hand, will get yourselves arrested. Now, go!"

"You're not a complete wanker after all," Constantine said, "See you at the Fell's wherever they may be."

As soon as both Zed and Constantine had left, Dean yelled out the door, "Nurse!"

As soon as the nearest nurse started to hurry to the room everything went still. Everything except for Dean however. In confusion Dean looked around and he saw the African American man from earlier standing at the foot of Marcus's deathbed.

"Shhh," the man said as he looked at Dean before he reached towards Marcus. Before he could do so Dean grabbed his arm stopping him.

"I don't think so you angel dick," Dean growled, "I'm not going to let another human die by your arrogant asses again."

"He's going to die no matter what Dean," the angel said, "I'm just making it quick."

"It's not your right to choose who lives or who dies," Dean said stubbornly.

"Look at him Dean," the angel said, "do you really think he considers laying in bed 24/7 as living? Add to that, he was suffering."

"At least give him the choice," Dean said, "Don't take it from him."

"I suppose that's fair," the angel said as he instead gave Marcus a few more minutes of breathing left and brought Marcus into the little time-stop too.

"What's going on?" Marcus asked.

"Dean here has requested that I give you a choice," the angel replied.

"What choice?" Marcus asked.

"To live a while longer, or die now," the angel answered.

"I lived a full life," Marcus said, "I'm old and unable to leave this bed. I'm perfectly fine with passing on. At least then I won't have to suffer."

"It can't be that bad," Dean said, "At least you get to see some hot nurses right?"

"Who are you kidding?" Marcus chuckled, "They're either fat, ugly, or old. There are no hot nurses here. I do thank you for giving me the choice, but I had already made up my mind a while ago."

"He made his choice Dean," the angel said before he touched the old man who then went limp as his souls left his body.

"Who are you?" Dean asked the angel.

"You can call me Manny," the angel replied.

"Are you supposed to be Constantine's version of Cas?" Dean asked.

"Castiel was a fallen angel. I'm nothing like him!" Manny said angrily, "He betrayed his brothers by siding with you Winchesters. There are reasons why the rules were made to keep the angels from helping humanity directly."

"Michael and Raphael were trying to bring about the apocalypse!" Dean replied equally as angry, "Do you know how many lives would've been lost if they had succeeded?"

"No," Manny admitted, "But I was fine with playing my part as the soldier. You should've been fine with playing your role as well. Being Michael's true vessel is quite the honor."

"If you hate me that much why are you letting me take part in your little flash-time?" Dean asked.

"It's not me Dean," Manny said, "I believe that your demigod abilities are finally showing themselves."

"You're lying," Dean said, "All you angel douchebags do is lie. Have fun keeping that stick crammed up your ass. I'm leaving."

Before Manny could say a word Dean left in irritation. When Manny let time resume Dean was no longer in the building and to the nurse who saw him it was as if he was a figment of her imagination.

At the Fell's house…

Zed and Constantine got out of the car in front of the Fell's house.

"What are you doing?" Zed asked Constantine as he started to walk towards the Fell's ornate metal fence.

"I'm breaking into the mansion," Constantine said as he grabbed onto the fence and started climbing.

"Isn't that illegal," Zed asked as Constantine pulled himself up to sit on the fence.

"Almost everything I do is, luv," Constantine said, "Come on." Constantine extended a hand to Zed to pull her up over the fence. Ignoring his hand she grabbed onto the metal fence pulled herself up and over it.

Once they were near the house they looked in through a window to make sure there was no one inside the room. They both saw a man in a hood playing an electric guitar.

"There he is, that smug tosser," Constantine said to Zed. He grabbed the door handle only to find it unlocked and opened the door. Constantine charged into the room, through a glass window and grabbed onto the hand playing the guitar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" the man yelled in protest with his hands up.

"Don't shout!" Constantine shouted back as he held onto the man's shirt, "And don't squirm. How did Bernie get the acetate?"

"Acet...?" the man asked confused.

"Bernie was a friend," Constantine said, "Ian. He was a friend. And if he died as a result of a deal that you made, there's gonna be retribution."

Zed stared intently trying to see if the man was lying.

"Look, man," Ian said pushing back in emphasis, "I don't know anything about any deal!"

"A no-talent hack turns overnight sensation," Constantine said sarcastically, "and you're telling me that you didn't take a shortcut."

"Hey, John," Zed said as she touched her nose, "Something's going on. I keep smelling jasmine."

"Now," Constantine continued, "This guy is backing out of a deal, and people are dying, and you need to own up to it."

"He can't," the blonde woman said as she cocked her gun's hammer, everyone in the room turned to look at her, "He didn't make the deal. I did."

"Put the gun down lady," Dean said as he walked into the room now in his casual clothes complete with his favorite leather jacket that his dad gave him. He had his Colt M1911A1 aimed at her.

The woman ignored Dean not knowing if he would shoot her if she put it down.

Trying to pretend that everything was going according to plan, Constantine ignored Dean and instead focused on the women with the gun.

"Jasmine Fell," Constantine said in realization, "Off-key backup singer and loyal spouse. Ain't love grand?"

"Jasmine," Ian said, "do we know these people?" Ian's eyes flickered between the three strangers, one of whom had a gun. He slowly walked towards his wife keeping his eyes on Dean's gun.

"We're not here to hurt you," Zed said calmly giving Dean a look.

"Don't be so sure," Constantine said still angry, "The night's still young, and Bernie's still dead."

"How about we put down the guns at the same time?" Dean asked not taking his eyes off Jasmine.

"This is a nightmare," Jasmine said.

"Just tell me what's going on, please," Ian said nervously. He didn't think it's possible to leave the room without one of the guns going off.

"Yeah, tell him," Constantine sneered as he started to walk towards Jasmine and Ian, "Tell him how you entered into a contract you're now trying to break at the cost of other people's lives, just so you could climb the charts."

"That's not it," Jasmine said as she backed away from Constantine.

"No, of course," Constantine replied sarcastically, "because the money really hurt your lifestyle, didn't it? The mega mansion, the shiny clothes. Did you even bother to check the price tag of those shoes?"

"Ian was dying," Jasmine explained, "He had cancer."

"I didn't see that one coming," Constantine admitted as he turned around and sat down on the couch.

Dean holstered his gun after he saw that Jasmine wouldn't shoot.

"You sacrificed your soul for his life." Zed stated.

"Why don't you show him the contract, luv?" Constantine asked.

Jasmine sighed before she walked off and came back with an old rolled up scroll in her hand, which she handed to her husband as she said, "Do you remember your first day in the hospital? They said you had a month, maybe two. This man came to me in the waiting room that night. He told me his name was Anton."

"Sounds like a soul broker," Constantine said, "They troll hospitals for the dying."

"More accurately a crossroads demon," Dean said.

"I didn't even think it was real," Jasmine admitted, "But I signed it. Then you went into total remission."

"May I?" Constantine said as he held his hand out for the scroll, "Etruscan rune. This Anton... he may have been a skeevy bloke, but he had a toe in the nether realm, all right. Take a look." Constantine unrolled the scroll to show Jasmine the fading ink on the page.

"Anton said when the last words faded," Jasmine said, "the First of the Fallen would return to claim his prize."

"So, why try and break the deal, Jasmine?" Dean inquired, "Besides the obvious desire to live of course."

"It wasn't my idea," Jasmine explained, "Anton got back in touch. He told me he could trade my soul back for the acetate."

"Soul brokers and crossroads demons never break a deal," Constantine said, "They lose their right of parley with the underworld, and more often than not… they die. Something here doesn't add up. So what did this, uh, Anton want you to do?"

"He wanted me to hunt down the acetate," Jasmine explained.

"He knew you were a rock star with money and endless resources," Dean said in annoyance, "I hate those silver tongued bastards."

"You also had the motivation," Zed said as she picked up the framed photo of their little happy family. Ian held their smiling daughter in his arms and Jasmine stood to their left.

"This, uh, Anton…" Constantine asked, "When did he expect to lay his hands on the acetate?"

"I'm supposed to take it to him tonight," Jasmine said, "He texted me an address.

"Let me take care of that for you," Constantine said, "I'm your best shot at ending this nightmare."

"Give us a hug, then," Constantine said holding his arms out and hugged Jasmine.

"Thank you," Jasmine said slightly confused by the strange man.

When she did so he slid a metal object into her pocket which both Zed and Dean noticed, but only Zed understood the reasoning behind the action.

Later…

Constantine now stood in front of Papa Midnite with a disgusted expression on his face.

"I should've known that you were behind this, Papa Midnite," Constantine said, "Alright." After he tracked down the soul broker it seemed that he didn't want the acetate for himself.

Papa Midnight laughed from his seat at the black and white TV. "So... Ian Fell. Thank you, Constantine. At least I know where to find the acetate now," he said as he twirled a pen in his hand.

"Papa Midnite. I didn't take you for a fan of religious broadcasting. Unless there's a Voodoo Channel I'm missing from my basic cable package," Constantine asked after glancing at the channel on screen.

"On the contrary," Papa Midnite said, "there's a lot these learned men can teach me."

"Like what?" Constantine asked, "How to trick a desperate woman into using all her resources to obtain a deadly artifact for you? You know, that recording, in your hands, gives you more power than I'm comfortable with, mate."

"Name it and claim it," Papa Midnite said as if that explained everything; it didn't.

"Come again?" Constantine asked in confusion.

"It's the basic building block of televangelism," Papa Midnite explained, "There are promises out there waiting for us, if we only have the courage to name them and claim them."

"That's exactly the kind of backward thinking I'd expect from a cheating, drug-dealing voodoo priest like…" before Constantine could finish his sentence, Papa Midnight's bodyguard came up behind him and knocked him out with one blow.

When Constantine woke up he found himself on a table with his arms and legs tied. He convulses and coughed when he awoke due to the powder Papa Midnight used to wake him up.

"They tell me this place used to flourish," Papa Midnite said, "Busy factories making things, workers scurrying... Now it's a concrete graveyard."

"All this just to get me alone? I'm flattered. But you're gonna have to respect my boundaries. I don't do zip ties without a safe word," Constantine said as he took in his surroundings.

Papa Midnight took out a needle and stuck it in a bottle to fill it up. "Made of copper. More than effective against your mail-order magic. My men are unburdening Ian Fell of his problem as we speak. Thanks to you, Constantine." Papa Midnight tapped the needle to make sure there were no air bubbles

"What do you want with the acetate, Midnite? There's no money it in," Constantine tried to question him.

"It's an insurance policy. A get-out-of-Hell-free card. Don't tell me that's not why you're after it," Papa Midnight said in answer. He grabbed Constantine's head.

"You know, I lied," Constantine tried, "About Ian Fell."

"For you, lying is easy. You've been at it so long, you've forgotten what it's like to work hard for something." Papa Midnight turned Constantine's head and with the last word jammed the needle in his neck.

"Ooh…" Constantine hissed, "Ooh... what is that?"

"Heparin. An anticoagulant," Papa Midnight answered and took out a short knife and cut Constantine's arm as the Constantine hissed at the pain. "You'll have four hours. That's if you stay very still and say your prayers."

"A slow death," Constantine asked in annoyance, "But not too slow. Is that it?"

"If my two associates don't return from Fell's with the acetate, I want to be able to come back and question you more... aggressively." Papa Midnight pressed down on the cut on Constantine's knife wound for emphasis. Constantine screamed at the pain

"Oh... I always took you for a... a voodoo priest with a... a flair for the dramatic. But a cold-blooded killer?" Constantine said in question.

"I do what's needed. But I don't need to darken my soul tonight. Not with the situation firmly in hand. A pharmaceutical dose of vitamin K. This will stop the bleeding... if you can get to it. Consider it a show of professional respect. If you live, you have worked very hard indeed. If you die, it will be alone with your many, many sins." With that Papa Midnight left Constantine lying there alone.

Back at the Fell's house…

"It's been hours and no word. Can you get on that red-eye to Chicago? Yeah, man, I think we're gonna need your help. Thanks, Chas." Zed said as she ended her conversation with Chas on the phone. "How's Julilah?" Zed asked as she heard Jasmine come down the stairs.

"She's okay. Finally asleep," Jasamine replied.

All of a sudden two men burst through the doors holding guns. "Back up! Move!" They shouted, I'm gonna make this simple: give us the acetate, or everyone dies."

"What acetate?"Zed asked innocently.

"Don't waste my time," one of the men told Zed and gave her a phone.

"You don't understand. It's very dangerous." Zed tried to reason taking the phone.

The other man shot his gun the air, "Give it to us!"

Jasmine yelled "no, no, no!" trying to protect Ian, "you can have it" at the same time Ian was trying to say "it's cool, it's cool" to try to calm down the situation.

"Jasmine, if you give it up…" Zed tried to stop Jasmine from revealing the location of the acetate but Jasmine didn't listen.

"It's in there," Jasmine revealed, and the belligerent attacker followed her line of sight and grabbed the acetate.

Hidden from sight Dean appeared and knocked out the attacker and unintentionally breaking the acetate. Zed launched herself at the other attacker while he was distracted and was able to knock the gun out of his hand before Dean yelled out "hands up!" and the attacker complied.

As Dean neared he said, "the acetate is broken," getting everyone's attention. While Zed was distracted the attacker took a chance and bolted and Dean couldn't get a good shot in time before his line of sight was blocked by the doors. He'll never catch him now. The guy probably has a car, Dean thought sadly.

A few hours later...

Constantine knocked on the Fell's door. After Zed finally found him with the nails he ate the vitamin K and was able to find the soul broker to break the contract.

"What took so long?" Ian asked as he answered the door.

"Sorry for the delay. Took a while to track this one down." Constantine said and Dean dragged Anton by his jacket into the house.

"She's in there," Ian indicated with his hand, "You need to help her. She's almost out of time."

"You sure this is gonna work?" Ian asked as Anton was dragged to the room Jasmine was rested, she lay on the couch on her side.

"In a fashion," Constantine explained, "Hell will lose its claim on your wife's soul, but what she traded it for, your health…

"Ian, no. I won't let you do this." Jasmine said as she started to sit up.

"What? Cancer?" Ian asked as he sat down on the couch beside his wife, "Yeah, sure, 20 years ago I didn't have a shot. But they have better treatments today. And now I got a lot more to fight for."

"All right, rat boy, you're up." Constantine said, "You're the one that brokered this deal. You're the only one who can break it. Time to eat the contract." Constantine rolled up the contract and held it towards Anton for him to eat it.

"I can't," he said nervously, "If I break any deal…" Anton began but was interrupted as he was pulled roughly by Constantine to a chair.

"Sod off! You've done enough to hurt these people." Constantine fed him the contract while Dean held Anton down. Anton screamed but it was muffled by the parchment.

"Chew," Dean commanded the crossroads deman and he did as he was told.

"When you said 'eat the contract,' you weren't kidding," Zed remarked in amusement.

"Where do you think the saying comes from? It's as old as the Aramaic on that rune."

"Swallow," Dean demanded and Anton did as commanded.

"Now then," Constantine said as he turned to look at the others, "Where's the bloody acetate."

"Dean broke it," Zed answered.

"How did you manage that?" Constantine demanded Dean.

"I don't know," Dean said defensively, "It just happened. Maybe it's curse had finally lifted?"

"Maybe," Constantine said in skepticism then thought You're definitely a mystery that I'm going to solve eventually.

We all negotiate deals with forces bigger than us. But who are we truly negotiating with? The divine? Well, it's only natural. Prayer is one big negotiation with a higher power. But in times of true crisis, we'll make a pact with whatever forces it takes. And pay whatever price.