A/N: I am so sorry for the sparatic updates guys. A lot has been going on lately and I've been neglecting this site because the things that have come up are far more important first and foremost, but I will try to update this story more frequently. I start college soon so ultimately that's my priority and not this, I have a condition known as "tennis elbow" in both of my elbows which involves a lot of pain and random flare ups so I never know when it's going to happen: once again, making it difficult to type. But I will fulfill my promise to finish this story before October (the Season 10 Premiere), now then, on with it.

Chapter 7

"So you're saying this man he just," Sam paused a moment, hoping to bait the interviewee into answering him in the way the brothers had hoped. "Disappeared before your eyes?"

"Yessiree," Gloria Burns, the woman Sam and Dean had decided to interview last. She was the only one of the witnesses who hadn't seemed to go completely mad after their accidents. Mr. Robert Welch had been of no help to the brothers whatsoever. He'd only repeated exactly what the local police had told them and the other man, Mr. Paul Dawson, had proceeded to rock back and forth a little in his chair seemingly still scared out of his wits even though the accident had occurred the evening of three days prior. Gloria was the only one with a good head on her shoulders thus far. "One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. It was almost like magic."

"Magic you say," Sam replied. "Do you believe in magic Ms. Burns?"

"Why heaven's no young man I don't," Gloria shook her head and leaned back in her chair, setting down the tea she'd been drinking with the brothers had arrived on her doorstep flashing badges and demanding answers. "Ghosts however,"

Sam paused again. At least they were getting somewhere with this woman. He thought carefully about how to word his reply.

"What do you know about ghosts," Sam inquired. "If I may ask, that is, Ms. Burns?"

"Have you ever lived in the country young man?" Gloria asked Sam.

"No Ms. Burns," Sam chuckled a little, drinking from the cup full of coffee she'd given both him and Dean. Dean hadn't touched his yet, instead he'd done something Sam was shocked about, and he'd leaned back and listened to her speak, staying quiet as ever. "I can't say I've had the pleasure to do so."

"Lots of folks in these parts Agent Hurley," that had been the fake name Sam had given her. "They aren't used to going not even, but a mile up the road and not seeing a cross on the side of it. Death happens here every day and every night."

"I believe it," Sam said, coaxing her into saying more. This was just what they needed. "What, with all the winding roads and speeding drivers."

"Oh but the country holds her secrets young man," Gloria's eyes seemed to have this glimmer to them when she said that, Sam took notice. "Not everyone died of what the police say they did. Only they know and only He knows."

She pointed upwards with a shaky older hand and picked up her tea cup again; taking a drink and setting it back down.

"There is good and evil in this world young man," Gloria said, with that Dean was immediately taken back to that night. He could feel the shivers crawling up his back as he pinned that innocent young woman against the wall. He remembered the smell of her as he sniffed up her neck, the black of his eyes and the fear in hers. "And you can always tell good from evil by the ghost left behind."

Dean's eyes stared blankly over at Gloria. She met his for a moment, almost as if she were staring at the ghost Dean would someday become. He felt violated and he looked away, behind her then back out the window to the busy street. Sam decided to let out his frustration with his brother later.

"So you're saying this ghost you claim to have seen," Sam asked. "Was he evil?"

"Oh no young man this ghost was anything but evil," she replied, Sam noticed she seemed almost personally saddened by what she said next. "But he's had an evil thing done to him."

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"Really appreciated the lack of focus Dean," Sam snidely remarked to his brother as they were walking to the Impala. "Thanks for helping me out back there."

"Well genius whilst you were busy "ghost geeking" as I like to call it with granny in there," Dean cut him off before he could say more. "You didn't happen to notice the ever appropriate picture behind her."

"I was not "geeking" Mr. Zone-Out," Sam replied. "And what picture?"

"The late but great Mr. Edgar Burns," Dean explained as they approached the car. "Dressed to the hills in his work uniform…his city worker uniform had his arms around two other guys. One of which matches that of our supposed ghost. I happened to get the date too, early 90's. Which means the guy on his left; he's most likely still alive and kicking."

"So find him," Sam put two and two together. "And maybe we'll get some real answers."

"Bingo." Dean said as he closed the driver side door and Sam the passenger side, Dean started up the car and the pair drove off. Sam thought about giving Dean a hard time about focusing on the task at hand once again, but decided against it fearing at this point his brother would pull over the car and throw him out. He knew the probability of that was low, but hell, he didn't ever know what Dean was thinking nowadays.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Yeah we all worked for the city," Mr. Wade Perkins led the brothers into his living room, small shot of whiskey in hand. "We even worked on the same damn road too. What of it?"

"Well Mr. Perkins," Sam calmly explained. "Recently there was a new crew hired to fix that stretch road once again and numerous people have reported seeing the spirit of an old colleague of yours."

"Sonny the only spirits I believe in," Wade sat down in a rather worn armchair and held up his glass. "Is these ones."

Wade swallowed down the whiskey like it was nothing. Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts before he sat down across from Wade, on the equally as worn couch. Sam spoke first.

"Is there any possible explanation," Sam asked, ignoring Wade's previous comment about spirits. He took a moment to recall the name of the ghost; the police had informed his death to be the only one along that road that matched the description. "As to why the spirit of Thomas Thames would be haunting that road Mr. Perkins?"

"Hell, the old boy loved working on that thing," Wade laughed, a wheezy kind of laugh. "He was such a dear friend to us, maybe he figured we'd still be working there when he came back to visit?"

Dean knew he could only take this guy for so long, but something in Wade's eyes changed when he heard Thomas' name. He blinked, almost too much. He laughed more nervously. His fingers gripped the shot glass like it was keeping him afloat.

"Unless," Dean finally spoke up, Sam staring at him. "He wasn't always your good friend Mr. Perkins?"

"Whatchu talkin about son," Wade said, rather defensively. "Thomas was a good man, one of the best I've ever met. He had not a bad bone in his lanky little body. We were all friends. Good friends at that."

"Oh I don't deny that Wade," Dean scoffed sarcastically and laughed a little before looking back at Wade. "But Hell I mean even I've seen the best of friends suddenly break up, especially if money was involved. I mean I hear the city doesn't pay as much as they used to."

"If you're insinuating what I think you are boy," Wade's look turned almost vicious. "You've got another think coming."

"Do I," Dean smirked a little; he always knew when he'd hooked them. "Then tell me I'm wrong Wade. Tell me I'm wrong."

Wade and Dean stared at each other for awhile until Wade started to break. Dean knew he had him now. Wade's fists clenched and he sneered. He suddenly threw his glass and it shattered against the floor before him. Dean didn't even flinch.

"You don't know nothing," Wade yelled. "You feds are paid higher than any other of us city folk. You sit all cushy in your nice little offices and couches with your supermodel wives and your five figure salaries! We don't get paid shit compared to you!"

"I don't recall Thomas Thames being a fed," Dean said, calmly, more calmly than Sam was used to. "But I do require doing my research on your little buddy Wade, he seemed to be well liked by the boss man."

"Me and Edgar needed the money more." Wade said through clenched teeth, his muscles convulsing under dirty his wife beater tank top.

"So it was about money then." Dean said.

Wade was about to protest, but he could see now how Dean had hooked him. He had reeled him into to somewhere where he couldn't break free from the line. Wade sighed, leaning forward a bit and running a hand up from his face through his shaggy black hair.

"Edgar," Wade started to explain. "He had a condition."

Dean nodded as if to say: "go on."

"You know the big "C" as they call it," Wade explained. "Cancer. He wasn't paid enough as it was to begin with. He didn't have anything great to leave his wife with after he was inevitably going to kick the bucket. I had a wife and kids. Thomas he, he had nothing."

"Nothing?" Sam inquired.

"Thomas was just barely hitting thirty," Wade continued. "He was the new guy. Don't get me wrong, we liked the guy. He was a hard worker, smart as could be, heart of gold. We would've followed this guy to the end. We did. His end though, not ours. The boss man started taking a liking to Thomas though. He started offering him higher wage, for more labor of course and the man would do it. But he never once looked at us, the older guys, who'd worked their heart and soul off in this job long enough to wear their shoes thin with holes, and gave us the same offer. Only Thomas. Always only ever Thomas."

Wade stopped a moment and took a shaky breath.

"Needless to say Edgar and me, we didn't like it. Thomas was our dearest friend, but he was in our way. I'll admit that he was in our way in our eyes. So the first time we were working on that main road out there. The first night, we told Thomas the wrong time that we were starting at. We got him there early. Edgar he, distracted him while I got the mixer ready and started up. We'd dug a hole where we were putting in the rest of the road and together we beat him up and we…pushed Thomas into the hole. He yelled and yelled and screamed, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Our ears. I started up the mechanism for the cement mixer and it poured onto him like a waterfall. The last thing I remember seeing was his eyes, his terrified eyes and I heard one last cry and then he—"

Wade didn't have to say any more. Dean got the gist of what the men had done. Wade shook a little, face in his hand. He'd drowned in cement. Buried alive. One of Dean's least favorite ways to die, he'd sure done a lot of them.

"We told the boss we'd done overtime and we'd filled the hole ourselves," Wade finished his story. "He didn't seem to read too much into it. He paid us for that. He paid us for k-killing our friend. I felt so cold, so clammy, taking the check. But I did it anyway. We told him some lie about how Thomas had decided to leave town after he hadn't shown up to work in a few days. The boss believed us and for once he, he offered us the extra money and we took it."

"And look where it got you." Dean replied. He'd pictured every detail of Wade's story.

"My wife and kids lived a damn good life while they were around," Wade argued. "Edgar's wife is doing great ever since he died. She's living the life he'd have wanted for her!"

Sam and Dean took one look at each other and stood.

"We thank you for your time Mr. Perkins," Sam nodded. "And we do believe you've given us all of the information we needed thank you."

Sam and Dean started to walk off.

"Ain't yah gonna arrest me or something," Wade swallowed hard. "I mean I did just confess to murder?"

"We'll leave it to the professionals." Dean replied.

"But ain't ya'll the professionals?" Wade asked as the pair departed.

"Only on Tuesdays." Dean said with a small smirk, earning a look from Sam as the pair made their way from Wade Perkins' house to the Impala parked at the curb.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"On Tuesday's Dean," Sam said in an accusatory manner. "Really, I thought we were over bringing that up?"

"Au Contraire Sammy," Dean replied as the two of them sat opposite each other in the motel room, cleaning guns and filling the ammo with salt rounds. "I thought it fit."

Sam sighed as he filled his weapon.

"Dean," Sam said. "We need to talk about this."

"About what exactly," Dean asked. "What did I say about chick flick moments Sam?"

"This is not a damn chick flick moment Dean," Sam raised his voice a bit; Titan lifted his head off the ground in response. The hound had been sleeping nearby them. "This is about you."

"Even worse." Dean rolled his eyes and stood, trying to walk away from Sam.

"Dean we can't just go on without talking about this," Sam grabbed his brother's shoulder, spinning him around to face him. "You were a demon for God's sake Dean, a demon for months. Then suddenly one day you're lying in bed and you wake up after Cas leaves for somewhere, fine. Doesn't that seem a bit suspicious to you?"

"If you're saying Cas did something stupid for me—" Dean said, growing angry.

"I'm sure he did," Sam exclaimed. "It's always him doing something stupid when it involves you Dean!"

Dean and Sam paused a moment, staring at each other. Dean knew what Sam was saying. Everything Castiel did that essentially risked his life, besides just being an angel in general, involved Dean. It made sense, the brothers were Castiel's charge. From what Dean understood about angel's charges they were sworn to protect them at all costs. For some reason Dean hadn't pegged yet though, Castiel always seemed to go the extra mile for him in particular.

"Are we gonna argue about this or are we gonna fill guns with salt?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing and his shoulders tense from the debate. He pushed past Sam and back to his bed where he continued to load salt filled ammo into the barrel of his gun.

"You can't ignore this forever Dean," Sam warned him. "You know that."

"Right now," Dean replied, getting rather annoyed once again with his brother. "I'd like to run this case like we always do, like we always did, without all the family drama bullshit. Then maybe once we get back to home base you can convince me to talk. Maybe."

Sam's lip quivered in preparation to say something else, but he didn't. Instead he cocked his rifle and briskly walked out to the Impala to place it in the trunk, slamming the door behind him. Titan jumped a little when Sam did so and stood, stretched, then trotted over to Dean.

"He just wants what's best for you Dean." Titan reminded the elder brother, Dean stopped cleaning his gun to pet the dog behind the ears. Dean wanted to reply, but suddenly found that he couldn't find the words. So instead, he simply continued to scratch behind the hound's ears until Sam informed him it was time to leave.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Dean and Sam stood at the top of the hill overlooking the scenic highway that had been closed by the city per a "safety request". In reality Sam had forged a phone call stating why it needed to be closed, claiming there was a potentially dangerous wild animal loose and he thought it would be in the best interest of the citizens including him to stay away. Once that was taken care of the brothers had carefully parked the Impala away from the scene and forged a path by foot to where they stood now. Titan crouched beside them, ready to strike at any time. Dean relied on his night vision whereas Sam had brought with him a pair of binoculars from the trunk and was watching the area.

"How long do you think it'll be before old man Thames makes his appearance?" Dean asked.

"Patience really isn't in your vocabulary is it Dean?" Sam replied.

"Bite me." Dean said.

Titan let out a collective sigh at the two brothers before a bug caught his attention instead, he snapped at it and caught it in his mouth before swallowing it. Dean grimaced when Titan looked back at him.

"Dean look," Sam pointed at the barren stretch of road, in the center of it appeared Thomas Thames, long dead and looking slightly pissed off. "I think that's our guy."

Dean nodded and cocked his shotgun, followed by Sam doing the same and Titan growling at the apparition.

"Titan, stand down," Sam said and the hound whined, sitting back down. "Nothing personal buddy, it's just we'll need you for backup in case something goes wrong."

Dean rubbed behind the hound's ear as Titan solemnly hunched his shoulders and sat back down.

"Let's go get this son of a bitch." Dean said and the brothers sprang forward, bounding down the hill as quietly as they could so as not to scare away Thomas. Dean motioned for Sam to take the back way around and Dean would take the front, they agreed to meet on either side of the ghost so that they'd have a better chance of vanquishing him. Dean stepped out of the darkness and just as he'd hoped Thomas' eyes turned to him.

"Hey there Thomas," Dean said, his voice almost echoing, the highway was so deserted. "How goes it?"

"Who are you," the ghost of Thomas said to Dean in an accusatory manner. "You don't work here!"

"Damn right I don't," Dean replied, stepping a bit closer. "But neither do you anymore, it's time to move on buddy."

"I'm not going anywhere," Thomas glared suddenly and started to advance on Dean. "Not until those assholes pay for what they've done!"

Dean dodged Thomas' attack with professional speed and landed on his butt in the dirt and like the ghost he was, Thomas disappeared moments later. Dean knew it was only a matter of time before he came back though. Sam had joined his brother, witnessing the showdown.

"Vengeful spirit," Dean shifted to look over at Sam, who was headed his way. "This is gonna be fun."

"We didn't have to take this case yah know?" Sam replied.

"Shut up and help me up," Dean grunted when Sam took hold of his hand and helped lift him to his feet. "Any way you can think of to kill this guy?"

"No I," Sam's eyes went wide. "Dean! Look out!"

Dean ducked just in time to allow Thomas to jolt past him, Thomas crackled like a bad television screen and disappeared again. He only gave Sam and Dean a few minutes to catch their breath before he started to throw things at them. Tools, small equipment, Dean and Sam took cover behind a nearby bulldozer.

"Ok," Dean said. "He's pissed. How do we kill him?"

"We can't burn his bones Dean," Sam stated. "They're buried under tons of cement. We don't have that kind of time."

Dean thought back to the interviewees. One of them in particular: Wade. He'd claimed Thomas had loved this job as much as life itself. Dean remembered the police reports, then Sam's research on Thomas. How he'd done almost every job on the construction site…except his favorite was…

Dean looked over at the forklift across from them and smirked a little. Sam gave his brother a worried look.

"Oh no," Sam said. "You are not suggesting what I think you are."

"Sammy," Dean patted his brother's shoulder. "How'd yah like to crash and burn a forklift?"

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The plan was simple. Dean was to distract Thomas while Sam drove the forklift into slight oblivion. Dean had almost said it was foolproof, but he hadn't wanted to jinx it so he'd kept his mouth shut. Sam took his position behind the forklift as Dean crept out from the shadows once again to face Thomas who was standing above the patch of concrete he'd been buried under, confused as to where his attackers had gone.

"Hey Tommy boy," Dean announced. "It's quitting time, works over!"

"No," Thomas growled. "Work's not over, not for me! Not after what those bastards did to me!"

"Thomas," Dean tried to plead with him. "Please. That was years ago. You have to move on."

"They will pay!" Thomas cried out and advanced on Dean. "And so will you!"

Dean muttered a string of curse words and took off running, avoiding littered tools in his path. He prayed Sam would be ready with the forklift any minute now, but the younger Winchester was having trouble getting it started.

"Damn it Sam!" Dean yelled as Thomas ran after him. "Hurry up!"

"I'm trying Dean!" Sam yelled back. "I've almost got it!"

Dean ran further and further, trying not to take off towards his brother's direction. Eventually though Dean tripped over a piece of concrete and landed on his hands and knees. He paused a moment for breath, but then found he was unable to get up. Thomas Thames had a ghostly hand around Dean's neck and was slowly depleting his oxygen. Dean choked, reaching his fingers into the gravel trying to push himself up and away, but to no avail. Thomas kept a firm hand on his trachea.

"S-Sammy now would b-be a good time as ever!" Dean rasped out.

Sensing his brother's distress, Sam started up the forklift faster than lightning. Thomas stopped choking Dean and looked back at what the younger brother was doing. Thomas' eyes went wide.

"No," Thomas cried out. "No! That's my job! Stop!"

Sam didn't stop, he drove the forklift faster and faster. Letting a trail of gas leak from the bottle he held next to him. Sam carefully drove with his knee and lit a match, before dropping it and jumped from the forklift, barrel rolling onto the ground below. He took off running, yelling for Dean to follow him and Dean did. Thomas Thames watched at the forklift went up in flames and screamed: No! repeatedly. Dean and Sam ran to take cover and found it just as Thomas' body and the forklift both burst into flames and the forklift exploded once said flames reached its engine. Sam and Dean looked up as the embers flew from the scene and thick black smoked poured up into the sky. The brothers looked at each other for a moment before Dean laughed.

"Well," he said. "We got him."

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Sam and Dean paid for their room and left that night. It was only a matter of time before someone reported the explosion and fire and they wanted to be as far away from all that as possible. Titan was in the back seat of the car, sighing contently in his sleep. Sam sat in the passenger seat, staring forward out the window and Dean drove, humming softly to the classic rock station playing on the radio.

"You can't avoid the topic forever Dean," Sam said, Dean knew exactly what he was referring to. "Eventually we're gonna have to talk about it."

Dean nodded in response, not glorifying Sam's statement with a verbal answer. Sam sighed and turned his head away, knowing it was better to let sleeping dogs lie for the time being. The brothers, with their long journey back to the bunker ahead of them, quietly drove on into the night.

Read and reviews are greatly appreciated guys. C'mon I'm not forcing anyone to review, but I like them. Author's like them. It tells us you like the story. Your favorites and follows are just as appreciated though :)

The next chapter will hopefully be out soon.