Many thanks to all you readers, for following my little creative outlet, and thanks especially for your comments. I don't know how to acknowledge them on an individual basis on this site without personal messaging someone, and I think that sort of one-on-one contact makes some a little skittish, lol.


Part 8

A half hour later he awoke, startled. He was lying on Maggie's couch with a blanket over him, and for a moment he had no idea why.

"Shhh...it's alright, Dean," she soothed, stroking his hair until the disorientation was replaced by clarity.

He sat up with a groan. "What time is it?"

" Around 6:15. Dean, let me drive you to the hospital please...at least to get something for the pain. And don't tell me it's nothing, I can see it in your face. And all that bruising...it's not normal!"

He shook his head. "Sam already got me to a doctor. I have something for it, but I have to be able to think, and they put me right out. But I could use some Tylenol or something if you have it." It amounted to putting out a forest fire with a squirt gun, but at least Maggie would feel better.

She retrieved some and gave them to him.

He swallowed them and turned to her anxiously, "Maggie, I need your help. I really need a drive to that camp. Sam has my car. I have to go and look for him, and I've already waited way too long."

"Whatever you need, Dean." she said without hesitation.

A short while later they were on the road. As they drove, she admonished him, "Dean, you should have called me sooner, when you were hurt. For god's sake, you both could have stayed at my place instead of that rat-hole you're renting!"

"I know, but I was pretty drugged-up for the first little while, and Sam didn't know about us. And later, I did try Harry's, about a dozen times. It was always busy."

"Oh." -Shit—she thought— Bill was always putting the phone back in its cradle crooked. It was a tricky model, if it wasn't put back perfectly straight, the button would depress, and everyone would get that damned busy signal until someone noticed and fixed it. This wasn't the first time it had happened. "Dean...are you prepared, for everything? What if this comes to a head and someone's armed or something?"

"I have a gun."

"Oh. Really? Wow…"

"Why 'wow'? "

"I don't know...I just never slept with a guy who had a gun before."

It made him laugh a little. "Well I just have it cuz it gets me laid."

She rolled her eyes. They were close to the park, and when they turned the corner they saw the flashing lights. There were two police cruisers surrounding a car that was parked at the roadside. An ambulance was there as well, its attendants rolling a gurney without real haste into its open doors. Dean noticed the victim was fully covered. -Fatality— His heart froze. Sam

Maggie saw his expression and read his mind. "Stay put, I'll ask what's going on."

"Don't! Jessup can't see me!"

She pulled out a crumpled cowboy hat from behind her seat and handed it to him. "Just keep your head down." She flagged down an idle paramedic and inquired.

He answered with an unprofessional candor. "Mr. Beauforte was found dead this morning. Never made it home last night, looks like some one robbed him." he said.

"How awful! Thanks for letting us know." She had no idea who that was.

Dean informed her of what he knew as they drove past. Sam had said that was the name of the camp director. He was beyond relieved that it wasn't his brother there on that gurney but his nerves were screwed tighter by this new development. Something had happened, and now the director was dead and Sam was missing.

"Jesus Maggie, we've gotta hurry!"


They parked beside the Impala. No point in going to the office, they already knew there was no one in charge today. They had to locate the trail. Luckily the park was well signed, they didn't have to raise any suspicions by asking a staff member. Dean was hardly comfortable with Maggie in tow. If this turned out to be a dangerous situation he didn't want to be hampered by worry for her welfare as well as Sam's. But then there was reality...he was in poor shape and it was her brother at the center of it all. She had the right, and he needed her support. They found the trail head and stopped for a moment.

"Sam was going to check this trail out, he had an idea that Danny may be buried along it somewhere."

A pained expression crossed her features but she pushed her emotions aside and nodded.

At least they had the benefit of searching in daylight, and no one was around due to the latest camp-related tragedy. As a matter of fact, the current session had been cancelled that morning and kids were being picked up by confused and disgruntled parents. No one noticed the two of them under the circumstances. They started out on the trail. It was slow going, both due to the search aspect and Dean's inability to keep up with Maggie's determined pace. It started to frustrate him, his temper was at the breaking point. He had paused for yet another breather when she came back to him.

"Dean, I heard a strange sound...I don't know, but it didn't sound like an animal."

He was leaning heavily on a tree, shaky and tired. "Where?"

She pointed. There was a slight separation of the foliage to the left. It looked like a recent path, but not well developed like the trail. Something, or some one—had parted the greenery here recently. He nodded and headed into the undergrowth. They followed a faint break, a parting or crushing of the leaves and plants. It ended in a slightly overgrown clearing. It was apparent that someone had been here recently, the broken foliage was fresh and plants had not yet sprung back from being bent and disturbed. Dean cautioned Maggie silently, and went ahead of her. He had his gun drawn.

The clearing was odd. It showed evidence of recent, as well as older activity. Dean was well versed in the evidence of burial, and like Sam he quickly deduced that there was disturbed terrain here. But he didn't have to be an expert in any field to recognize a body. He called to Maggie.

In front of him, sprawled in the ferns, lay a young man. He was clearly dead. He was in rigor, and Dean pushed his stiff frame with the tip of his shoe. The man had a revolver clutched in a literal death-grip in his right hand. His eyes were open and un-seeing, and his expression was frozen in a rictus of terror. Another counselor, maybe. Dean's attention was re-routed by Maggie's shout.

"Dean! Here!" Maggie had found a second body. He hobbled over to her position and gasped in horror, dropping to his knees.

It was Sam.

"Sam! oh god, Sammy! C'mon, please!" Dean hovered over his brother. Maggie stood back, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. It made everything involving poor Daniel a stark reality and she hardly had the ability to face this. He shook Sam gently, and then desperately, frantic at seeing the blood that had dried on his face, and matted in his hair. He held his fingers to Sam's throat, cursing and talking under his breath. There was a pulse. He was sure, he felt it—weak and rapid, but there.

"Oh god, Dean...is he-?

"Breathing.." he answered. He pulled Sam up so he could better see him, and assess his condition. He had a lot of blood on his sleeve, it seemed to have come from his shoulder. And then his face, it was covered in more blood. He had to see where it was coming from. He parted Sam's dark, sodden hair, terrified of what would be revealed. He found the place where the bullet had done its work. It was just beyond his left temple, a deep furrow plowed by the projectile. It hadn't entered his skull, it wasn't a death sentence, yet. But it obviously hit with enough impact to render him profoundly unconscious. But not dead.

Dean released his breath in relief. He quickly pulled the clothing away to reveal the other injury. Another graze, painful and bloody, but not life-threatening. As he held Sam's head in his hands, the younger man began to stir and complain.

Maggie, hovering fearfully near by, instantly came forward and crouched beside him. She met Dean's shining eyes. His brother was alive. It was Daniel's tale, but this time it had a different ending.

Sam mumbled, confused, and distressed. Dean held him close, scarcely able to contain his own emotions. He spoke to him soothingly, reassuring him that all would be well. It took agonizing moments for lucidity to return, but it did finally. Sam struggled, wide eyed and fearful. He still felt the immediate danger, unaware that the threat was gone. Dean patiently calmed him, assuring him that they were safe. His expression relaxed with his understanding. Dean was there. Big brother was fixing it all. He'd lost an alarming amount of blood and he was shaking with cold. Maggie tugged at Dean's sleeve.

"We need to get him out of here, to a hospital. Can you get him up? Do you think we can carry him?"

Dean nodded. He'd carry him out if he had to crawl the whole goddamn way.

The two of them pulled the tall young man to his knees. He still bore no weight, he was a heavy, limp burden...but supported between them, they managed to get him back out to the main trail before Dean dropped. They rested for several moments, while Dean caught his breath, and when he felt he could shoulder Sam's weight again he hoisted him up and they made several more yards before the pain made him stumble and drop to his knees once more. The pattern repeated until they reached the car.

Sam had begun to partially carry his own weight, albeit with a shaky inconsistency. Both he and Dean rested heavily against the Impala's side as Maggie fished the spare keys from Dean's jacket. Sam looked over at his panting brother. Dean caught his eye and smiled wryly. "I call back seat…" Sam said, his legs buckling. He slid to the pavement as Dean tried to catch him. The result was a tangled heap of Winchester that Maggie had to sort out and drag into the car.


Regardless of how he felt, Dean had insisted on taking the wheel. Maggie was worried he was too weak. "Are you sure you can drive? You're not going to pass out behind the wheel, are you?"

"I'm fine, Maggie." he growled predictably. She accepted that, she had a sense that she had no choice. She sighed and told him to follow her truck to the hospital. Sam drifted in and out. Dean glanced frequently at him with worry. Neither wound was life-threatening, but between them they'd bled profusely and his extreme paleness attested to that. He was lucky he hadn't bled out. As for Dean himself; the drive was a struggle. He was in a sweat, trying hard to avoid leaning back on the seat. Every time he hit a rough patch in the road he grimaced and swore.

"Hey, potty-mouth, you ok?" asked Sam.

Dean looked up into the rearview and smiled a little. "Yeah, sure…just a freaking rough road. Bad for the shocks."

Sam closed his eyes again. -the shocks- Even now Dean would never admit to any hurt in front of him. "Hey Dean…?"

"Yeah..?"

"Do we really have to go to the hospital? Can't you just stitch me up?"

"Not this time Sammy. You need blood. Besides, I wanna see them shave your head."

Sam groaned. He hoped they wouldn't have to. He looked down to see if the camera was still ok. "Dean...I may have that guy's whole confession, on the new camera. I switched it on, and got him to talk. He's one of the bad counselors. He named Jessup." Sam was weakening, his voice was trailing off.

"Are you serious? Holy shit, that's huge! Way to go, Sam! Now shut-up 'til I get you checked out. We can talk about it later."

Sam was nearly out again. "Ok. ..Dean?"

"Hey, didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

"Thanks for finding me." he whispered, drifting off.


Once safely in the hospital environs, and with his fluid levels being replenished, Sam was eager to discuss the situation with Dean. He battled a wicked headache and he was being monitored for his concussion. Regardless, he wanted to review the recording from the camera.

Maggie had introduced herself, and Sam had kindly offered her his condolences.

She accepted graciously, asking, "So...it's true then. Daniel is buried by the trail?"

"Yeah...I'm afraid so. The evidence is there." He stayed quiet as she absorbed that. Her emotions threatened her briefly but she clamped down on them and maintained her composure. Sam was impressed by her strength. "Uh...where's Dean?" he asked.

"Asleep on a chair in the lounge. He's pretty wiped out. I don't know how he keeps going, he told me what Jessup did. I saw the bruises."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, that's my brother. Nobody can run longer on pure adrenalin than he can. Stubborn jackass."

She laughed at the last assessment.

He turned back to the unpleasant tasks at hand. "Maggie, we have to talk to the sheriff asap. Do you know anything about him?"

"Other than the fact that he's well-liked here, nothing much. But I've never heard anything bad about him."

"We need to call him before the hospital does. Any gun wounds are reported, and the last thing we need is to have Jessup come out. Damn, I really need to talk to Dean...do you think you could wake him?"

She nodded. She was reluctant but she knew it was important. Dean would have to recover later, he was in the thick of things now and it couldn't wait on his well-being. Not that sleeping in one of those hard chairs was doing him much good. She left to fetch him.

She stood and watched him for a moment. He couldn't be comfortable, draped over the uncompromisingly hard and thin chair arm. She marveled that he could sleep like that at all. It warmed her, the thought of his love and loyalty for his brother. She'd have done anything for Daniel. "Hey...wake up, sweetie. C'mon, Dean, I'll get you a nice hot coffee."

He frowned but didn't move.

"Dean, honey...wake up. Sam needs to talk to you."

The mention of his brother's name snapped him awake. He winced and groaned, stiff from his nap. He stretched a little, regretted it, and tried to shake some life back into his arm, which had fallen asleep.

She had tried to get him to be seen by a doctor earlier but he'd refused, insisting, again, that he was fine. Clearly he was not, but she had to let him deal with it his own way. She guessed he'd resent any mothering. "Come talk to your brother...he's anxious to get the sheriff involved."

He rubbed his eyes and nodded, following her in.


"You look like crap!" they said to each other in unison. Maggie laughed along with them, agreeing. Dean pulled up a chair and perched on the edge. "How you feeling, Sam?"

"Like I've been target practice. Did you check the video?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Uh huh...picture sucks but the audio is perfect. Clear as a bell, nice work."

"Good. We have to get ahold of this McClary. When I talked to the camp director, Mr. Beauforte, about all this last night, he said he didn't know him that well, but that his reputation spoke well of him. He made a point of saying it was his actions that showed it, not his words. And I trust Beauforte, he's a good guy."

Dean caught Maggie's eye. "Was a good guy. I hate to tell you, Sam...but somebody wasted him last night in his car."

Sam was stunned. "Christ! Somebody must have listened in when he and I were talking! That's why he followed me out to the trail. ..I can't believe it!"

"Who, Sam? Who was it?"

"The one named Randy! He's a counselor, the second to the head guy, Jeff. I turned around after finding Dan's burial, and he was right there behind me."

Dean frowned. "Well, we need to get this camera to the sheriff before Jessup gets wind of it. Maggie, could you go out there, maybe see if he's in? I don't want to call and get that sonofabitch deputy instead."

She nodded and hurried away, saying she'd call when she had him in tow.

"Now what, Dean?" Sam demanded.

"Gimme a minute, I'm too freaking tired to think."

He rested his crossed arms on Sam's bed, putting his head down on them for a moment.

"Seriously, Dean...are you ok?"

"Getting there." He sighed and sat up. "We're gonna have to take our chances with this guy and lay it all out to him. I'm thinking we should set up a meet with Jessup...lure him out to the gravesite. I'd just say that I knew about Daniel, and tell him to come out. He'd put another nail in his own coffin by showing that he knows where that is and what I was talking about. I'd have to wear a wire. I don't want to rely on that audio clip you got...it'll be enough to get the sheriff on board, but he'll need more to nail him. McClary needs to see and hear it from Jessup's own mouth…agreed?"

Sam nodded. "There's enough cover there...the sheriff could be hidden nearby, waiting for his cue. But Dean, what about Daniel's spirit? I saw it take Randy down. It will go after Jessup for sure, shut his heart down like the others.. To be honest, I'd be fine with that, but I'd rather see him fry or rot in jail. And what about all that?McClary will witness the vengeful spirit thing, and won't know what the hell to make of it. Do we tell him what this is really about?"

"Maybe…sorta... Christ, I don't know. I have the same dilemma with Maggie. How's she gonna take it—knowing her brother's now some freaky killer ghost? And then I have to tell her that he has to be salted and burned after they exhume him and do an autopsy, or he'll keep on being a threat. Yeah, that'll go over well…"

"We could tell McClary to have a defibrillator ready, they're all trained to use one. He'll think we're nuts, but when he has to use it on Jessup we'll have a lot more credibility."

"Hmm...yeah. Let Danny have his fun with the bastard, then revive him to face the consequences. I like that, everybody wins."

Dean checked his phone, which didn't work in the hospital. It registered a missed call. "I think we're on. I'm going outside to hear the message. Back in five minutes."


Dean checked and was relieved that Maggie was indeed bringing the sheriff back. He was very nervous...his natural inclination was to run from the law, not invite it in for a chat. He returned to Sam's bedside. "When can you get out of here?"

"They won't let me go for at least 24 hours because of the concussion. I feel ok...I mean, I have a killer headache, but everything else is manageable."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. How'd you talk your way out of a bean-shave, by the way?"

Sam grinned. "Bribery."

"Guess you offered more than I did to make sure you got one. I'll have to make it a richer deal next time, won't I?"

Sam smiled and flipped him the bird.

Maggie entered with a stranger. She introduced him as Sheriff McClary. The brothers eyed him warily. They were at considerable risk in his presence. He greeted them in a deep, even tone. He spoke quietly, with a sure authority. "Now...what's this all about, gentlemen? Miss Williams insisted I meet with you, and that my deputy not be involved or informed. This is highly irregular. I hope you aren't wasting my time here."

Dean handed him the camera. "For starters, sheriff, have a look at this. The video is bad but the audio is perfect."

They all sat, tense and silent, as the sheriff ran through the clip. He ran it two more times before he spoke. He rubbed his chin, frowning, deep in thought. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Ok people...let's start at the beginning."

Dean started. "Before I do, there are aspects to this that you are going to have a hard time believing. You need to keep an open mind here. We're not nut-cases, ok? The evidence is there to prove what I'm about to tell you. And Maggie, you'd better grab a chair. I really wanted to talk to you about this earlier, but there's no time to ease into it now."

She did, and she wore the same baffled and wary expression that showed on McClary's face.

Dean looked to Sam, who nodded. "Alright." Dean said. He handed the autopsy reports to the lawman. "My brother and I...we investigate unusual occurrences. We came here to look into the circumstances of the counselor deaths at Saving Word camp. Along the way we learned of Daniel William's disappearance. I started out by getting these autopsy reports on the two victims. Sheriff, I'm not sure you've seen the unusual marks on their backs, they're only visible under UV. They look like bruises, but technically they aren't. And they both died from heart failure. The coroner said there's no way to explain their deaths through natural means. So we've gotta look into the unnatural. That's what we specialize in. We believe the deaths were caused by ...and here's where you have to stay open minded, a vengeful spirit. We've come across this many times. The spirit of some one who was wronged so terribly that they carry the need for revenge beyond death. How are we doing so far?"

"You are nuts." Maggie said. " But I'm still listening."

McClary had crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, a classic closed posture. "You boys called me here to tell me fairy-tales?"

Sam intervened. "Sir, we know how this sounds. We always get this reaction at first. But please hear us out, there's more to prove it."

The sheriff uncrossed his arms and set his hands on his knees. "Ok...keep going."

Dean continued. "We learned that Daniel disappeared a month earlier. We also learned that he was a good kid, and that he was gay, and because of that he was beat up and run out by the other counselors at the camp when they found out. He went to press charges next morning, but you were out, Sheriff. So he met with Jessup instead. We also found out that Jessup is a homophobic vigilante. We believe he beat Daniel for his so called sin, using his night stick. Maybe not bad enough to kill him, but Daniel had a heart condition, and he died as a result."

That was too much for the sheriff to let slip by. "Now back it up right there, son! Deputy Jessup is a respected lawman! How the hell do you know anything about his beliefs and actions on that subject?"

"Well sir...I know it first hand. Before I go on, I want you to remember that audio you just heard. And the autopsy reports describing those strange bruise-like marks." Dean 's voice was weakening, he was dizzy, and he sought a chair and lowered himself gingerly on to it. He rubbed his eyes wearily. Maggie poured a cup of cool water for him, and he continued. "Sam and I were pulled over by Deputy Jessup a few days ago. It was my fault, I was speeding. He took one look at us and decided we were a gay couple. There was no logic, he just made up his mind. And it seems he's got a big problem with that. He hauled us in and put us in holding. Well, I guess I kinda provoked him...sometimes I don't know when to keep my mouth shut, and I'm not very, uh...patient when it comes to stupidity. The bottom line is, he handcuffed me to the bars, Sheriff...my brother too. Then he made Sam witness and "learn" while he beat the crap out of me with his baton until I gave out and finally "repented for my sins" Those were his words. He was damned thorough, at that point I was pretty much done in, I was ready to admit to anything to get him to stop. But he decided to break a couple of my ribs for good measure. And when it was over, he just let us go. ...Like we'd paid our debt to society, or god, or him, you know? Sam here had to carry me out to the car and we got the hell out of there. He tailed us all the way to the Mississippi border."

McClary shook his head in disbelief. He had trusted Jessup implicitly. If it hadn't been for that audio, he would never have believed a word of it. But he had heard the clip and he had no choice but to hear these people out.

Dean continued. "You want more proof...I understand that, sir. So keep in mind Daniel Williams, and those ghosted marks on the two victims when you see this." He got to his feet slowly and stood He turned around and unbuttoned his shirt, then shrugged it off and let it drop to his waist. It embarrassed him deeply but it was necessary. He knew how bad it looked...it was pretty compelling evidence.

"Sweet Jesus!" The sheriff blurted. He stared in silent horror for a few moments. "My deputy did this to you?"

"Yes sir, he did." Dean said quietly, pulling up and re-buttoning his shirt.

Maggie's composure crumbled, she covered her face and cried. Poor Dean...and poor, poor Daniel

McClary was shocked to his core. "Have...have you gotten medical attention?"

Dean nodded. "In Mississippi, right over the border on Hwy 9. The clinic we went to has seen this before. The Doc there even had a name for it, she called it the Bethel County Welcome. She'd be more than happy to provide testimony, I'd bet on it."

Sheriff McClary had it all laid out in front of him. He had the evidence, digital, anecdotal and physical. He had witnesses. And victims, both living and dead. He had potential testimony. There was very little left that he needed. And he hated it all. But he was a fair man, worthy of his position. The ugliness of this was painful, but he was not a man who fled from such things. He was a Sheriff. "Alright. I agree we have a major problem here...it's pretty damned clear my deputy is out of control. Now tell me more."

Dean took a deep breath. It was going to be tricky from now on. "We know that Daniel Williams is buried in a clearing by the trail. Sam found the place using an electro-magnetic field detector. Spirits , or ghosts if you want...can generate that kind of energy. The physical evidence of a burial is there. Sam had discussed the problem counselors with the camp director, Mr. Beauforte. Well, it seems someone overheard that discussion. Beauforte's dead, and Randy Jarvis followed Sam out to the site. He confronted him and discussed his and Jessup's involvement in Dan William's death. And then he shot him and left him for dead. You already know about the audio Sam recorded before he was hit. Well, Randy Jarvis had his heart stopped. He's lying dead in that clearing right now. He saw Daniel William's spirit, you heard his voice on that recording. He was terrified. Sir, I'd bet my life that his body will show the same ghosted marks as the others, and that his heart had stopped for no natural reason." Dean faltered then, and took a moment to regain his flagging strength. "We believe Daniel Williams was beaten, just like I was. And he had a heart condition that caused his heart to stopp as a result. And now, he's passing on those markers to his victims...and those victims are far from innocent. It's classic vengeance."

Maggie couldn't take it. It was too horrible, too bizarre. "No! No, stop it, Dean! You don't know! Daniel was sweet, caring...he would never become this...this thing!" She fled the room.

Dean wanted to follow her, to comfort her, but he had to keep McClary from rejecting what he'd just heard. "Please Sheriff, stay with us on this. We need to get Jessup to dig his own hole here. You heard his accomplice admit to Dan William's death and burial on that tape. And you know my own experience with him. Let's forget the twilight zone aspect for a minute. If we get Jessup to come out to the gravesite, to meet with me...we can nail him for good, and this crap can all end. I'll wear a wire, you can lay low nearby amnd you can hear it all for yourself. Sheriff, I'll take that risk if you'll work with us on this."

Sheriff McClary stared hard, then nodded. He was hardly ready to acknowledge the supernatural aspect of the situation, but he had his hands full enough with the rest of it at the moment. "Ok. I will ignore the insanity of this right now. You have enough going on here to warrant investigation, so I'll go along with a set-up at the trail. But I don't want to hear about your ghosts right now, you hear? I just want to fix this cancer in my department. You say you're willing to wear a wire? You'll be in danger...he'll be armed. Are you up to that right now?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. I want to see justice done for this kid. And I wouldn't mind seeing your deputy pay for what he did to me and who knows how many others. Set it up—I'm in."

McClary nodded. "I'll need to arrange some logistics. I'll let you know when to make the call."

Dean agreed. "I have one request, sir. I agree to your demand that the whole vengeful spirit thing will be ignored for now. But bring your defib-kit. I guarantee you it will be needed. If you're trained on it, good. If not—bring a paramedic. Do that, and we won't say anymore about any other dimension to this case."

McClary agreed. Why not? It was a normal safety precaution he could accept. "I'll set it up on my end. Wait for my call. Don't do anything until I tell you to!"

They all wanted the same thing, justice. Dean accepted the directive and the wait for count-down began.