Alright, so this chapter isn't as long as I'd like it to be, of course, but it's given me so much trouble, I just want to get it up. More updates will come, but for now, this is what ya get. My apologies...

P.s. - I know Sam was off at college when Dean and John went to go help Jerry, but since, in this verse, Dean was with Teo during that time, it took place when Sam was about 13 ish.

Ch. 11

"So who is this guy again?" Sam asked from the passenger seat, rifling through dad's journal.

"Guy by the name of Jerry Panowski. Dad and I helped him out a long time ago," I explained, watching the road as it curved slowly towards Jerry's office. "He got a voice recording from the cockpit of that flight that that recently crashed. He says he might know what caused it."

Teo sat in the backseat, staring out the window, something obviously on his mind. I wanted to ask him about it, but feared it might bring up a subject that shouldn't be in front of Sam. I glanced back at him through the rear view mirror and in that split second he caught my gaze. I quickly looked away, blushing. I glanced back again and he had a huge grin on his face. Damn him.

We soon pulled up the building where Jerry worked and met him outside. Teo stayed behind to make a call to Alex.

Jerry led us in, past machines and workers.

"Thanks for makin' the trip so quick," Jerry told us as we walked. "I outta be doin' you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?"

A worker walked by, overhearing Sam's words. "Poltergeist? Man, I love that movie."

"Hey, nobody's talkin' to you, keep walkin'," Jerry told him. "Damn right it was a poltergeist. Practically tore our house apart. I'll tell you somethin'," Jerry glanced back at me, " If it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive."

We walked on into another portion of the hangar. "You know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doin' anyway?" He was referring to Dad.

"He's umm, wrapped up in a job right now," I answered.

"Well, we're missing the old man, we get Sam. Even trade?"

Sam chuckled. "No, not by a longshot."

We reached Jerry's office. "I've got somethin' I want you guys to hear."

Sam and I sat down in the two chairs in front of Jerry's desk as he opened a cd slot on his computer and slid in a disk. "Listen to this. Sounded like it was up your alley. Normally I wouldn't have access to this – it's the cockpit voice recorder for United Brittania, flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The recording begins to play.

"Mayday, mayday!...flight 2485," the voice kept fading out with the amount of static. It was hard to hear through all the interference what the pilot was trying to get across. But one thing stood out. All of a sudden, through the static, loud and clear, came an inhuman snarl.

That was a bit surprising.

"It took off from here, crashed about 200 miles out. Now they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow, nobody knows why," Jerry explained. "Over a hundred people on board, only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name was Chuck Lambert; he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh, well he's pretty broken up about it, like it was his fault."

Survivor' guilt...

"You don't think it was," Sam stated.

"No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors – ."

I cut him off. " And, anyway we could take a look at the wreckage?"

"The other stuff is no problem," Jerry told us, "but the wreckage, fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in its warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

I thought for a moment and that trademark grin of mine fell right into place.

I nodded to Jerry. "No problem."

Sam waited outside, leaning against the Impala as I finished up at Copy Jack, a little store I found to be a necessary stop. Teo sat on the sidewalk next to the car, making small conversation with Sam. I took pride in the fact they got along so well, despite everything.

As I came out, Sam raised his hands at me, asking 'why?'

"You've been in there forever," he said.

I held up three fake ID's. "Can't rush perfection."

Teo stood. "Homeland security?" He and Sam each took one.

"That's pretty illegal, even for us," Sam said.

Teo's eyes narrowed. "You mean there's more illegal stuff?"

I chuckled and touched his cheek. "You poor, innocent, naive child.." I turned back to Sam. "It's somethin' new, ya know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." We all got back in the Impala. "So whaddya got?

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam said.

"Yeah?"

"Listen."

Sam grabbed his laptop and played the same track, amplified. The words that came across, though chilling me to the bone, were clear in what they said. "Noo suurviivoorsss."

"No survivors?" Teo asked. "What's that supposed to mean; there were seven survivors."

"Got me."

"So, what are you thinkin', a haunted flight?"

Sam nodded. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships like phantom travelers, or," he looked at me, "remember flight 401?"

"Right, the one that crashed and the airline salvaged some of its parts, put em in other planes, then the spirits of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those planes."

"Right, maybe we've got a similar deal."

I grabbed the list of survivors. "So, which one you want to talk to first?"

Apparently, the first would be Max Jaffey. Why? If anyone saw something out of the ordinary, it would have been him.

A/N - alright, so love it? hate it? please let me know. I wanna fix what I'm doing wrong and take pride in what is awesome about it. :D