Chapter 10 - Family Remains

Sam groans and sits up from where he was sleeping in the backseat. He frowns seeing Addison stretched out in the front seat, with her head in Dean's lap and her feet by the door. "Why is Addison's head in your lap," he tiredly asks.

Addison suddenly rolls over, inadvertently burying her face in Dean's crotch while kicking the seat in the process. "That's why," Dean answers, not looking up from the papers he was reading with a flashlight. "And don't even think of waking of Yogi."

Sam frowns at the nickname. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?"

"Looks like you're looking for a job."

"Yahtzee."

"We just finished a job like two hours ago."

"Adrenaline's still pumping, I guess. So, what do you think...Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town?"

"I am all for working. I really am. But you got us chasing cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep."

"We can sleep when we're dead."

"You're exhausted, Dean."

"I'm good."

"No, you're not. You're running on fumes and you can't run forever."

"And what am I running from?"

"From what you told us. Or are we pretending that never happened?"

Instead of answering, Dean holds up a newspaper article. "Stratton, Nebraska — farm town. A man gets hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. No signs of forced entry."

"Sounds like a ghost."

"Yes, it does."

Addison lets out a mixture between a snore and a growl. "Did she just growl," Sam asks, frowning.

"Probably pissed that Ranger Smith won't let her keep the picnic basket."

Addison pulls her hair into a ponytail as she follows the guys into the empty house. She looks around. There were no signs that a grisly murder had recently taken place. "Boy, three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes," Dean says.

"I bet the realtor will say it has history or some bullshit like that," Addison replies as they walk into the large kitchen. They open the cabinets, but find them empty.

Dean walks over to the back wall. "Hey, check this out." He taps the wall and Addison frowns. "Huh."

"It's probably a dumbwaiter. All these old houses had them," Sam explains.

"Know it all," Dean mutters. Addison snorts and walks out of the room.

"What," Sam asks, looking between them.

"What?"

"You said..."

"What?"

Sam shakes his head, taking out the EMF meter. "Never mind."

"Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint," Dean says, looking around the living room. "It's a bunch of bubkes."

Sam turns off the meter. "Needle's all over the place."

"Yeah, power lines."

"Great."

"Guys," Addison shouts. They exchange a look, then rush upstairs.

They find Addison standing in a bedroom, next to a closet. Dean rolls her eyes. "Yeah, Ads, the doll head on the floor is super disturbing, but I'm pretty sure it didn't kill anyone."

Addison glances at them, then notices the doll head. "Whoa. That's creepy. But no. That wasn't what I was talking about," she replies, motioning out the window. "Moving truck."

"Dude, I thought you said this place was still for sale."

"Apparently, it's not," Sam replies.

They quickly run out of the house. Five people were standing around an SUV. "Can I help you," one of the men asks as they near the family.

"Hi," Sam greets. "Are you the new owners?"

"Yeah. You guys are..."

"This is Mr. Stanwyk and Mrs. Broflovski. I'm Mr. Babar," Dean introduces as they pull out fake badges. "County code enforcement."

"We had the building inspected last week. Is there a problem?"

"Asbestos in the wall, a gas leak. Yeah, I'd say we got a problem," Sam lies.

The woman frowns. "Asbestos? Meaning what?"

"Until the house is up to code, it's uninhabitable," Addison tells them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're saying we can't stay here," the older man asks.

"It's a health hazard. You don't want to," Dean replies.

"Hold up," the other man says, stepping forward. "We just drove four hundred miles."

"There's a motel just down the road. Till this gets cleaned up, I suggest you stay there."

"All right. And what if we don't," the older man questions.

"Well, you get a fine or you go to jail. Pick your poison."

The older man sighs and turns to his family. "One night. One night and I'll take care of everything ASAP. I promise."

"Yeah, you do that," Dean mutters.

"Another motel," a teenage girl exclaims as the young boy storms away. "Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets like the last one."

"What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry," Sam questions. Mrs. Curry was an older woman who lived a couple of miles away from the farm house and who used to worked for the previous owner.

"I already told the local boys, there was blood everywhere," Mrs. Curry answers.

"And where exactly was Mr. Gibson," Addison asks.

"Everywhere."

"How long had you been cleaning his house?"

"About five years."

"So, you knew him pretty well," Dean points out.

Mrs. Curry shrugs. "Well, not really well. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him."

"What do you mean," Sam asks.

"His wife dies in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I'd be bitter too. I think I got some pictures." Mrs. Curry disappears for a moment, then comes back holding a couple of pictures. One was of a older woman while the other was a young woman. "Here."

"Thanks," Dean says, taking the pictures. "Can we keep these?"

"Suit yourself."

"Any idea why the daughter killed herself," Addison asks.

"I don't know. That was before my time."

"Did you ever notice anything odd in the house when you were cleaning it," Dean questions.

Mrs. Curry frowns. "Like what?"

"Like, you know, like lights going on and off, things not being where you left them."

"No...well, maybe there was one thing."

"What's that," Sam asks.

"Well, sometimes, I thought I heard like a...rustling in the walls."

"Kinda of like a rat," Addison questions.

"Yeah."

"Must have been some big sons of guns out there, huh," Dean says.

"Wouldn't know. Never saw any."

"Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried," Sam asks.

"They were both cremated."

"Thank you for your time," Addison says before they turn and start back towards the Impala. "So, if our ghost isn't the daughter or mom, then who is it?"

"I don't know. But I say we give that place a real once over and see," Dean replies, opening the driver's side door.

"Shit," Dean says as the Impala pulls up to the farm house. Lights were on inside the house with the SUV and moving truck parked off to the side. He glances between Sam and Addison. "So, what now?"

"We could tell them the truth," Sam says.

Addison raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, not really."

A scream comes from within the house. The three of them climb out of the Impala and run up to the house. Dean knocks on the door and after a moment, the younger man from earlier that day opens it. "We heard screams," Dean says, walking into the house. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you three," the older man angrily shouts. "Did you touch my daughter?"

"What? No."

"Who are you guys?"

"Relax, please. You have a ghost," Sam tells them.

The older man scoffs. "A ghost."

"I told you," the teenage girl screams.

"It's the girl," the young boy shouts.

"Both of you, relax," the older man snaps. "What are you guys playing at?"

"Look, you're in danger," Addison says, stepping forward. "You need to get out of this house. Now."

Suddenly, the lights turn off. "What the hell," someone shouts.

"Nobody move," Dean orders.

A dog howls. "Buster," the boy shouts and runs out. They follow him out of the house.

Addison's gaze widens, seeing the words painted on the side of the moving truck. "Dean," she says, grabbing his sleeve.

Dean walks over to the older man. "We are not the bad guys, but you're in danger," he tells them.

"First things first. You got to get your family out of here," Sam continues.

"Go to the motel that's down the road," Addison says as they walk over to the Impala. "You'll be safer there."

"What are you three gonna do," the older man asks.

"Oh no! Oh, come on! Oh, come on," Dean angrily shouts. The tires on the Impala and the family's SUV had been slashed and were flat.

Sam opens the trunk. "Dude, the guns are gone," he says.

Addison moves over to him and sees that all of their guns and knives were missing. She sighs. "All of our weapons."

"Truck's no good," the younger man says, walking back over from the moving truck.

"Both tires slashed," the older man says.

"What kind of ghost messes with a man's wheels," Dean shouts.

"I don't think it got the memo, Dean," Addison replies.

The teenage girl screams and they turn to see her pointing towards the cornfields. "She's there! She's there!"

"Where," the woman asks.

"She was right there in the woods!"

Dean frowns. "What's a ghost doing outside?"

"No idea, but I'm don't want to stay and find out," Addison says, before turning to the family. "All right, everyone inside!"

"Are you crazy," the younger man argues. "We need to get the hell out of here!"

"In what," Dean snaps. "This ghost is hunting us! Everybody back inside now! Move!"

The group runs back into the house, Dean ushers everyone into the center of the living room. He grabs a canister of salt and pours a circle around them. "Whatever's outside, it can't get in this circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be."

"Safe from ghosts," the older man asks.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

The older man shakes his head. "Okay. I'm not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here. Let's go."

"Nobody's going anywhere until we kill this thing."

Sam steps towards the older man, holding out his hands. "Sir, please. This is what we do. Just...trust us."

"You hunt ghosts," the boy asks.

"Yep," Addison answers.

"Like Scooby-Doo?"

"Yeah. But without the talking dog."

Sam walks over to the teenage girl, pulling out the photos they had gotten earlier. "You saw her outside, right?" The girl nods. "Okay. Does she look like either one of these girls?"

She looks at the pictures, then points to the photo of a younger woman. "Her. She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her."

"That's the girl in the walls," the boy says.

Sam turns to Dean and Addison. "So, it's the daughter?"

"That girl in the picture - she's dead," the woman asks.

"She killed herself inside this house."

Addison frowns. "So, the maid was wrong? Rebecca wasn't cremated?"

"Unless her spirit's just attached to something inside the house," Sam reasons.

"She hung herself in the attic, right," Dean asks, looking between them.

"You guys want to babysit? I'll check it out."

"Look, I don't care who hung themselves where," the younger man snaps. "Maybe something is going on here, but—"

"It's a spirit, man," Dean says, growing frustrated with the family.

The younger man glares at him and steps out of the salt circle. "No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass."

"Well, nobody's leaving the house."

"Stop me."

"Listen, man. I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole."

"Dean, you don't have a gun," Addison quietly reminds.

"And? I'm not letting that bastard or anyone else die tonight."

Sam frowns, carefully examining his brother. "You cool?"

"Go."

Addison silently watches Sam walk out of the living room before turning to Dean. He stares back at her, waiting for her to say something. Addison sighs and looks away. "Hey, Fonzie," the younger man calls. "Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt...have to be kosher stuff or what?"

"Knock it off, Ted," the woman says, shooting Ted an annoyed look.

A noise comes from down the hallway. Addison and Dean step inside the circle. "What was that," the teenager asks. The girl from the picture enters the room. She wore a long dirty dress, twigs were in her hair and her skin was pale.

"All right, everybody stay calm. She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle," Dean reminds them.

A tense silence settles over the group. The ghost stops at the edge of the circle, then steps over the salt line. "I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle," the teenager asks.

"Apparently, she isn't a ghost," Addison calmly says, glancing around the room looking for some kind of weapon within reach.

"Shoot her," Ted screams. "Shoot her!"

Dean winces. "Yeah, about that...Go! Go! Move!" Addison runs forward and punches the girl in the face, hoping for a long distraction to get the family out of the house. The girl quickly stabs her in the side and Addison stumbles back, clutching her side. Dean slams his fist in the girl's face and knocks her down. The girl stands up.

"Hey!" The girl turns and Sam shines his flashlight at the girl. The girls screams and runs out of the room.

Dean scoops up Addison and runs out of the house with Sam on his heels. "I'm fine," Addison softly says. "Didn't touch me."

"Bullshit," Dean counters, setting her down on the hood of the Impala. Sam opens the trunk and rummages through it for the first aid kit.

"Hey," the older man says, walking up to them. "You okay?"

"Where is everybody?"

"Hiding."

Dean nods, taking the kit from Sam. "All right, go get them." The man doesn't move. "Go. Go get them."

Reluctantly, the man leaves. Addison slips off her hoodie and pulls up her long sleeve shirt to reveal a deep cut on her right side. "It's not that bad. Just a little scratch," she comments. Dean and Sam shoot her unamused looks and she looks away.

"So, it's not a ghost," Dean says, pulling out some bandages and a bottle of whiskey.

"So, it's just a girl," Sam questions.

Dean shakes his head. "It's not just a girl. It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you - humans."

"You think it's Rebecca," Addison asks, looking between them. She winces as Dean pours the whiskey over the cut.

"No. She'd have to be like fifty years old by now."

"Maybe she has really good genes?"

"What'd you find in the attic," Dean asks.

"Some old junk," Sam replies. He holds up an small book. "I found Rebecca's diary. That's about it."

"I wish you'd found a howitzer." Dean sighs. "Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off. Ads, you're going with them."

Addison vigorously shakes her head. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

"Addison, you're injured," Sam argues. "You're going."

"I hate it when you two gang up on me."

"Told you it was some crazy bitch," Ted angrily says, with the family walking behind them.

"Yes, you did," Dean admits.

"Head to town. We'll take it from here, okay," Sam tells them.

They nod. The family had no problem with that. "Danny, come on baby," the woman shouts. "We're leaving!"

"Danny, we got to go," the older man shouts.

The woman turns to him. "Brian, where is he?"

"Danny!"

"Danny," the woman screams.

"Stay here," Dean murmurs to Addison before taking off with Sam. Addison places a thick piece of gauze on her cut. She slides off the Impala and rolls her eyes as Brian and Susan argue about leaving. "She's right," Dean loudly says, walking up behind them. "Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now is in the shed."

"I am not going in there either," Kate argues.

"Yes, you are. It's the best defense. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now. Trust me."

The group walks over to the shed. It was exactly as Dean described it. Everything inside was dusty. And there were a couple of wooded crates along with some old garden tools. Addison eases herself down on the crates and shoots the guys a reassuring look.

Addison looks up when a loud knock comes from the door. She hadn't moved since Sam and Brian entered the shed. Sam was reading the diary he had found using the flashlight. "Sam, it's me," Dean calls through. Addison pushes herself up and helps Sam move pieces of wood barricading the door.

Susan walks forward as Dean enters the shed. She had hopeful look on her face. "Did you get Danny?"

Dean glances at her. " No."

"No? Well, where's Ted?"

"He's outside."

"Well, why doesn't he come inside?"

"Because I had to carry him out," Dean answers. "I'm sorry."

"You're...what does that mean? What does that mean, you're sorry?"

"Are you saying that he's dead," Brian asks.

Susan shakes her head. "No. No, he's not saying that he's dead. You're not saying that, are you?"

Addison sighs and looks at the ground. It was exactly what he was saying. "We were in the walls and she attacked," Dean confesses.

Susan covers her face in shocked. "Oh my God."

"And I couldn't get to him in time."

"Uncle Ted is dead," Kate disbelievingly asks.

"I shouldn't have left him alone. I'm very sorry."

Addison glances at Sam to find him reading the diary. She quietly slips out of the shed and finds Dean standing next to Ted's body. She grimaces seeing the deep cut along his throat. She turns her gaze to Dean. "We should cover him up or something so they don't freak out," she softly says. They could easily hear Brian and Susan arguing from within the shed. He remains silent. Addison places a comforting hand on his arm. "You can't save everyone, Dean."

"You should go back inside, Ads," Dean replies, not looking at her.

Addison rubs his arm and walks back into the shed as Brian exits. She looks over Sam's arm to look at the diary. "Find anything?"

"Maybe," Sam replies, snapping the diary closed. "Stay here." Addison crosses her arms and stares at him. "Ads, you're hurt." Her gaze doesn't waver. "Unless you want me to stitch—"

"Fine," Addison interrupts, sitting down on a crate. If there was one thing she hated, it was one of the guys stitching up any cuts and Sam knew that. And if staying in the shed meant avoiding that, Addison was reluctantly okay with it.

Addison winces as she shifts on the crate. It had been awhile since Sam had left and she could only assume that the guys, including Brian, were searching the house for where the crazy humans were hiding. Suddenly, the window behind her smashes. Addison quickly stands up and moves away from the window. She grabs the closet thing, a rake, and stands in front of Susan and Kate. "Stay behind me," Addison orders.

Kate screams and Addison turns to see a knife sticking through the boards. Addison ushers the duo into the center of the shed. A box along the back wall moves and they step back. Addison pushes the boxes out of the way and shoves the rake at the bottom of the wall.

"Get ready to run. I'll hold her off."

"Is that a good idea," Susan asks.

Addison shrugs. "I'm open to suggestions." The wall falls down, knocking Addison down in the process. "Run!" She brings her legs up and presses her feet against the wall. A weight presses down on the wall and she looks to see the girl on top of the wall. The girl raises a bloodied knife when she's suddenly pulled away.

Addison crawls out from the wall and scrambles out of the shed. Susan was tightly embracing her son with Kate standing next to them. Addison turns when she hears footsteps and sees Brian holding a bloody knife.

Dean runs a hand over his face as he lounges on the bed the next to a sleeping Addison. They had left the family and the farm house early that morning. And after stopping at a hospital a few counties away to get Addison checked out, something that she had insisted on, they had stopped at a motel for the night. The door opens and he turns to see Sam enter with a bag of food. "How's she doing," he asks, setting the food and drinks down on the nightstand.

"Fine. Antibiotics knocked her out," Dean replies as Sam tosses him a burger. He starts to unwrap it, but stops and wraps it back up.

Sam frowns. "You okay?"

"You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that."

"You were in Hell, Dean. Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human."

"Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, Sam, defending territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure."

Sam tenses. "What?"

"I enjoyed it, Sam. They took me off the rack and I tortured souls and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever."

The only noise in the room comes from Addison's light snoring. Sam didn't know what to say. He didn't think there was anything he could say. Dean grabs the remote off the nightstand and turns on the TV, needing something to drown out his thoughts.