Dean swore as he hurried around the Bunker, throwing weapons and supplies into a duffle bag. He went over to the completely covered table and started tossing books left and right on the table, trying to find where he left the case material regarding where Sam was heading and what he was supposedly hunting. According to the reports, two people had died due to a freak accident where both the victims had seemingly been hit by a train, but had been nowhere near railroad tracks. Dean's best bet was that it was a violent spirit, a ghost who killed anyone that reminded them of their own violent death. Sam had further researched and printed out an article from 1859 where a railway worker by the name of John Carraway was hit by an unscheduled train and was then dragged several hundred feet until eventually dying at approximately 2:45 in the morning. The description of the death in the police report matched the descriptions of the recent deaths in Smith Center, Kansas, only a few hours away from the Bunker, and the town where Sam should be.
The first step Sam should have taken would be to see if the two victims, Joan Mercury, a woman in her mid-thirties, and Peter Daniels, a retired older man, were connected in any way to the railway worker. With that in mind, Dean scooped up the papers and police reports, checked to make sure he had grabbed iron, gasoline, and lighters, and went to the Bunker's garage to pick out another car, seeing that Sam had taken the Impala. Dean called out to Cass only to discover that he had chosen that time to vanish, so Dean pulled out of the garage and started towards the highway by himself, turning the radio on and raising the volume as high as it could go in hopes that the music would drown out his impending thoughts.
After taking one short detour in getting gas for the car that hadn't been driven in a long time, Dean finally made it to Smith Center in two and a half hours, thanks to Dean's fast driving. Dean quickly located the police station in town and used the building's positioning to pick the motel that Sam most likely had chosen to stay in. Dean quickly swerved the car into one of the many open parking spaces outside of the Center Motel. As he walked towards the lobby, he felt his stomach sink as he noticed the familiar black shine of his Impala parked in the far lot near a tree. If all went well, Dean would just find Sam lying in his motel room, apologizing over the fact that his cell phones were malfunctioning and that everything was fine. However, the Winchesters never caught a break, so Dean knew that the parked car being there was a very bad omen.
The door jingled as Dean swung it open and soon enough a man, whose hair was just starting to turn grey, came to the desk, wearing what looked like his pajamas. His hair was disheveled and there was bags around his eyes, and looked as if he had just woken up, despite it being only around six at night.
"Can I help you?" The man groggily asked, slowly going over to sit on a stool that faced a computer on top of the desk.
"As a matter of fact," Dean started, reaching into his leather jacket to retrieve one of his badges, "You can." He flashed his FBI badge and said, "I'm looking for a man who probably checked in three or four days ago. Tall guy, long hair, most likely paid cash. Ring a bell?"
The man pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. "Try room 119. Last door on the left. He checked in under the name of Jimmy Page."
Dean recognized the alias and nodded. "I'm going to need to search the room, please." As the sleep-deprived man just continued to sit and stare at Dean, he added a bit louder, "Immediately," and a room key was handed over to him.
Dean left the front desk and headed in the direction of the room. He knocked before entering, and when there was no response, reached behind to the waistband of his pants and grabbed his gun, cautiously looking around the hallway and raising it. Dean unlocked the door and barged in, doing a quick sweep around the room. When it was confirmed empty, Dean took a closer look. All of Sam's clothes and research materials were still there, and there was a half-eaten salad on the table besides Sam's laptop. Dean walked over to one of the beds where Sam had nicely laid out all the information that he had gathered within the few days. According to Sam's quick notes jotted down in pencils in the margins of the news articles, Peter Daniels was related to Richard Daniels, who was accused in 1860 of being the driver of the train that had hit Carraway. However, according to that article that Sam had printed, Daniels was cleared of all charges. The connection between Joan Mercury and Carraway seemed to be a little more stretched, at least according to what Sam found out. Mercury was related to Carraway's boss who had forced Carraway to stay late into the early hours of morning, just another incident that added to their apparent bad relationship, as Sam found out.
From what Dean gathered after briefly skimming through all of the papers and connections that Sam had found, it was, as Dean had thought, a violent spirit who was killing people who reminded him of his death in the same way that he had died. Oddly enough, both the victims had died within two blocks of an abandoned railway station, where Carraway's body was buried because his family could not afford to give him a proper burial. With that, Dean left the motel and drove the distance to the abandoned station, and just hoped that Sam was okay.
When Dean pulled into the grassy area that used to be a parking lot, the sun was already starting to set. Dean would lose the advantage of daylight so he hurried up his pace as he grabbed his duffle bag and headed into the station. The station looked as if it had closed soon after the worker had died. The wooden planks creaked under Dean's weight and the roof had mostly collapsed over the years so the fading daylight helped Dean navigate his way through the station. He tried calling Sam's name, but heard nothing in response, just the wind shaking some old light fixtures and the occasional flap of bat wings. After maneuvering his way through fallen debris and litter, Dean heard a train whistle coming from one of the track entrances. He jogged over to Track 13 and moved swiftly down the stairs. There, ahead of him, was a figure seemingly sleeping on the abandoned, decrepit tracks. However, it wasn't until Dean got closer that he realized that it was Sam, gagged and tied to the tracks below.
"Sammy!" Dean screamed, jumping off the platform and down on the tracks. He ran over to his brother and started untying the ropes that were knotted around Sam's hands. Dean had almost finished when Sam's eyes suddenly got huge and tried to talk through the cloth stuffed in his mouth. Dean turned around only to be thrown back against the concrete wall beneath the platform. Sam struggled to try and finish removing the ropes as the ghost of the railway worker walked confidently towards the slumped body of Dean. With one last tug, Sam freed himself of his restraints and pulled the cloth away from his mouth.
"Hey!" Sam shouted, distracting Carraway's attention away from Dean. Sam tried to formulate a plan as the ghost now gained on him. He eyed Dean's duffle bag and made a sudden move towards it. He pulled it over his shoulder and heaved himself over the platform's ledge, but was pulled forcefully back by the ghost onto the tracks. The spirit loomed over him as Sam saw a sudden bright light from further up on the tracks. The spirit had started a train that hadn't been used in a couple hundred years, and it was coming right at Sam.
Suddenly, the ghost vanished as Dean, now conscious, sliced through the spirit with iron chains. Dean grabbed the fallen duffle bag and jumped up on the platform, pulling Sam up behind him, but not before Sam noticed Dean's eyes flash to black, and the sudden anger Dean seemed to get.
"Where are the bones?!" Dean yelled, whipping around quickly to face Sam. Sam was startled by Dean's tone and for a minute was frightened of the blood thirsty look that flashed across Dean's face.
Sam pointed to a trash can that was propped up in the corner of the platform where he had previously piled up all the bones. He was about to burn them when the spirit had knocked him out and tied him to the tracks. Dean ran to the trash can, poured gasoline and salt on the bones, and engulfed them in flames. Sam watched as the railway worker, who had struggled to catch up with them, vanished in a fiery wave, and watched as the oncoming train suddenly stopped two inches from where Sam had just been. Sam's chest heaved as the hunt was over, and followed Dean silently back to his car. As Dean dropped Sam off at his motel to pick up his things, and the Impala, Sam couldn't forget the black that he had seen covering his brother's eyes and that menacing look that Sam had hoped was gone forever. That was when Sam knew that this was all a lie. His brother had gotten better, had even gained control in the beginning, but now Sam saw the crack in Dean's strength and control, and knew that it was all downhill from here.
