To Hell And Back

by belladonna78

Sequel to "Hell to Pay", and the fourth installment of my Supernatural fanfics. Check out my stories and AN for more info on where to start. This is Season 4 - How far will Beth and Sam go in order to save Dean's soul from Hell and be reunited with him? Dean/OC. Slightly AU but mostly follows the Supernatural show with my own spin. Rated MA for smut. Please read and review!

25. It's A Terrible Life

Forget what we're told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am

All that I ever was

Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where

Confused about how as well

Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

---

IT'S A TERRIBLE LIFE

---

Grand Rapids, Michigan
Beth's POV
3 weeks ago

I'd seen Dean in bad shape before, but this was something else. He looked like he'd just spent the last month on the streets. Which in a ruggedly handsome sort of way, was a bit of a turn on. But it had quickly come time to throw him in the shower.

The doctors had wanted to keep me in for observation, but with Cas' attention, I'd woken up fully healed, just the emotional scars to contend with. So we'd hightailed it out there as soon as we could to the nearest motel to work out our next plan.

"You, me, alone time… I can live without my car long enough for Sam to bring it back from Miami if it means we get that," Dean had said as we'd booked out the honeymoon suite and stepped into one of the gaudiest rooms I'd seen yet. It was Valentine's Day overkill - hearts and white lace, and I had a sneaking suspicion we were going to end up with glitter in places that were better left unmentioned.

The bathroom was a little better, though it still sported the red, white and pink theme, along with a massive heart-shaped jacuzzi. "Okay," I said with a grin, slipping under the water as he adjusted the temperature. "I take back everything I said about this room, based on this bath alone."

"I told you!" He grinned. "These cheesy motels always have the good tubs."

"And how do you know that?" I asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhh, you know what? It was a guess," he said quickly, nodding to reinforce his position.

"Uh huh," I said, the doubt showing in my voice as I slid through the water to straddle his lap.

A comfortable silence settled between us as we gazed into the others' eyes. It was a relief just to know we were back together.

I picked up a can of shaving cream from next to the tub and raised another eyebrow at him, shaking it and squeezing out a generous amount of foam into the palm of my hand. Dean laughed, and feigned distress as I reached out and smeared it over his chin and cheeks.

"I thought you liked my mountain man look!" He said with a chuckle.

"I do," I smiled. "But I want to get a good look at my husband after being away so long."

"It felt like forever… just a few weeks, but…"

"Months," I interrupted him. I bit down on my lip, recalling the time I'd been away. "It felt like months, Dean."

"Oh baby, I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching out a hand to stroke along my cheek. "I came as fast as I could."

"I know you did," I whispered in return, nodding. "I know."

"I'll always come for you Beth," he said seriously, holding my face in between his two hands. "Always."

"Me too," I promised, smiling up at him. "You're stuck with me now, mister, for better or worse."

"Ha!" He laughed, sliding his hand up into my hair and gripping tight. He started to move my head toward him, and all I could see was the foamy white beard on his face.

"Ahh, noooo! Shave first!" I complained, and he shook his head, pulling me tighter and faster, smearing the cream all over my face before claiming my mouth with his lips. "Ewwww!" I whined, but I kissed him back just the same. He chuckled, a few more moments passing as the kiss turned more urgent, serious.

"Happy anniversary," I said with a smile as we finally pulled back.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown
Beth's POV

The ticking of the clock over to 6am signalled time for Dean to get up and at them. He reached out, shutting it off almost instantly and started to roll out of bed, stopping when he heard me groan.

"God, it's so early, do you have to go so soon?" I complained, reaching out a hand for him. I started to rub his lower back when he hesitated, and with a grin he was soon moving to position himself over me and smiling.

"Well I need to bring home the bacon, buttercup," he said pointedly, "this house doesn't pay for itself."

"You know I could go back to work," I said with a frown. "We could more than afford our house, lifestyle, and everything in it - and you could work less."

"Pffft, no wife of mine is going to have to work for a living, I want you to relax, be happy," he said, kissing my nose.

"I am happy, with you," I said, reaching up to place a hand against his stubbled cheek. He'd shave once he got up, but for now I enjoyed the touch of his rough skin against the palm of my hand.

"I am happy that you are happy with me," he replied, leaning down to kiss me, this time sliding his tongue into my mouth. I moaned softly, snaking my hands around his waist and pulling him in against my scantily clad body.

He groaned, his already half erection rubbing against my thigh, and for a moment I thought I might lose him to work. "God, you're too much," he muttered, kissing my neck and breathing against my skin. "I'll be late."

"Then be late," I said, pressing my thigh firmer against him as my teeth found purchase on his earlobe and nibbling on the flesh. "What good is being promoted if you can't stay home and make love to your wife on occasion?"

He glanced over at the clock and groaned. "Beth…"

"I'm serious Dean, stay…" I said, scratching my nails down his back, drawing a shudder out of him. I grasped his buttocks and started to knead their firm flesh, raising against him with each movement. When had we gotten to this point in our lives, where he would think work was more important than me?

"Well… maybe I can be a little late," he grinned, leaning down and kissing me.

---

Dean's POV

Beth had at least been smiling when I left her this morning, and I told her I'd planned to take her out for dinner tonight, somewhere quiet and romantic - that had made her smile even more. I'd arrived only an hour late, straight into a conference call with some guy over in development - funniest guy I've ever met, had me laughing right off the bat.

Then it was meeting after meeting, speeding through the day - following the task list, getting the job done, doing what I do best. Lunch, salad, like it has been for weeks. Beth still looked fabulous after all these years we'd been together, but my secretary had made a little joke about me letting myself go since the wedding last year, and… well… I'd not taken kindly to it. I'd had her reassigned to another division, she was Saunders' problem now, but the reality of my waistline still lingered.

I listened to the voice on the other end of the line and frowned. "Net profitability aside, it's the client-retention rate that concerns me vis-à-vis maximizing return on sales. Buzz me back once you've seen the spreadsheets." I turned just in time to see the door to my office open and my boss walk in. "Mr. Adler."

"Dean," he said with a nod, moving to slap me on the shoulder. "Good stuff."

I smiled. "Good stuff?"

"Big things. Good stuff," he said with a returned smile, then he left the room.

"Good stuff," I echoed, nodding.

Evening fell, finally, and I had to get moving, but I couldn't seem to get this guy off the line. I glanced at the clock and silently groaned. Beth would kill me if I didn't get out of here soon.

"Oh I hear you. No, I haven't been to the gym in ages." I said, looking down at my stomach. "Carrying a little bloat around myself. It's a sedentary lifestyle, my man, no two ways."

I heard Cooper chattering on and interrupted. "All right, tell me one more time. You said lemon and—what was it? Cayenne and maple syrup, are you serious? How much did you lose?" I whistled as I envisioned the pounds dropping away.

The call finished and I tossed a few files into my briefcase, tapping on my phone to text Beth as I headed for the elevator.

"Dean!"

I stopped, looking up with a smile. "Hey baby, I was just about to call you," I said, stopping to take her in. She was dressed to the nines, a daring little black dress, long smooth legs feeding down into heels. Her long dark hair was piled up on her hair in some fancy design of curls and twists. She looked divine. "Woah, you look amazing."

She smiled, moving up to me and kissing my lips. "Glad you approve," she whispered. "You're late."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I'm ready now. And you're here, so we can go straight to the restaurant…" I glanced at my watch, nodding. "And still make our reservation."

"Okay, well let's move then, mister," she said with a grin, taking my arm. The elevator dinged, and I hurried ahead to get the door, holding it as Beth sauntered inside. As I moved into the elevator, I noticed the other occupant. He was tall, taller than me even with a shaggy kind of hairstyle - dressed in shorts and yellow polo shirt, something about Tech Support embroidered on the shirt. He was staring wide eyed at the pair of us, as Beth pressed herself up against me, whispering something about chocolate sauce and home in my ear. I suddenly found myself wishing we had the elevator to ourselves...

"Do I know you?" The guy asked, breaking the spell, and I looked over at him.

"I don't think so," I replied, smiling as Beth nipped at my earlobe.

"I'm sorry, you guys… you guys just look really familiar," he said and Beth paused to glance over at him.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened with a ding. "Save it for the health club, pal, we don't swing like that," I said, gesturing toward the lobby doors and ushering Beth out of the elevator. She glanced over at her shoulder at him and then turned back to me, grasping my arm as we walked.

"You know, he did look kind of familiar," she said softly.

"Well, he does work here," I replied with a shrug. "But I can't be expected to remember everyone I meet."

"Hmm, yeah," she said with a shrug.

I smiled, sliding my arm around her. "Forget him, tonight is our night. Let's get the car and have our dinner, then I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What kind of a surprise?" She asked.

"A good surprise," I chuckled, stopping to grasp her hips. "Happy Anniversary baby."

---

Blue Earth, Minnesota
Sam's POV
2 weeks ago

Jefferson looked like a cat who had just been given cream and a mouse, and was looking to follow it up with some catnip.

"Smile a little harder Jefferson, the neighbours might not be able to see those pearly whites," Dean commented, but he was grinning just the same.

"Are you kidding? I'm thinking of getting it written in the sky, I'm ecstatic," Jefferson said, grabbing Beth around the waist and spinning.

"Well that's a far cry from everyone else's thoughts on this," she said softly, glancing over at me. I sighed, leaning back against the car and pretending I was deep in thought. This wasn't the first time I'd heard Dean and Beth want to settle down and live a normal life in the last few months. I was surprising that they were finally going to do it. Ironic too, given that I was the one who always wanted the normal life - and now I was the only one wanting to keep doing what we are doing.

"He'll get over it, it's time you kids got to live a happy life, one that isn't going to get you killed," Jefferson reassured her, dropping her to her feet and glancing back at the house in front of us.

"But when I told Dean I'd buy you any house, I was kind of thinking something a little more…"

"Expensive," Dean cut in.

"New," Jefferson corrected, rolling his eyes.

"I don't need a new house, or an expensive one," Beth replied with a smile. "I just want to be somewhere safe, and happy."

"Well princess, this place is all yours then," Jefferson with with a nod, dropping keys into her hand.

I turned to face the house that had been a home to all of us at some point. Pastor Jim's house and home, with the chapel that Beth loved so much, the bedrooms that Jim had made up for Dean and I when we'd known no other home just after Mom had died. Now it was theirs.

I felt my breath catch, and Dean came up beside me, bumping his shoulder against mine. "Hey, you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said, my voice almost husky with emotion. "Yeah, I'm great. It's good to see you happy."

"Really?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because, you don't look real happy."

I sighed and glanced at him. "Well, you know Dean… you've both been hunting a lot longer than me. You guys were always the ones to follow Dad without question. This kind of seems a bit like breaking the mould… going against orders… I can't really see it lasting."

Dean looked thoughtfully at the house while Jefferson and Beth went inside, talking animatedly about something. "Yeah… I know. I know. But I owe it to Beth to at least try. She deserves this. We all do. I don't ever again want to go through that again, that last month. If I lost her, it'd kill me."

"Yeah," I said, thinking about Jess for a long moment. "Yeah, I understand Dean."

"Then be happy for us, and come pick out your room. Time for you to settle down too brother."

I felt myself pale at the thought, but for the moment kept my mouth shut. I couldn't. I had things to do. I needed to call Ruby and talk to her. I'd called on her when Beth was in the hospital, but nothing. She had to be holed up somewhere, I just needed some time to convince her it was safe to come out.

---

Present Day
Location: Unknown
Sam's POV

Work was work, as usual. Boring, dull, but it paid the bills. I tried to ignore the incessant whirring of the printer as it spat out paper nearby, and the fax machine that was being run constantly lately. I pushed my pencil into the automatic sharpener and watched the shavings peel away from the lead with a sense of satisfaction. The phone started to ring and I pushed the button to answer it, speaking into my headset.

"Tech support, this is Sam Wesson." I waited long enough to hear that someone was having trouble with their printer and then started a rundown through the usual troubleshooting list. "Okay. Uh, well, did you try turning it off and then on?"

I poked at my favourite little vampire bobblehead stuck to my desk as I listened to the woman on the other end tell me that she hadn't tried the simplest trick in the book.

"Okay, go ahead and turn it off. No no no, just, just off. All right, give it a second." I counted to ten, and tried not to yawn. "Turn it back on…. Okay, is it printing now? Great. Anytime."

I peeled the headset from my head and then pressed a button on the phone to end the call, sighing. Ian from the cubicle behind me rolled his chair over to me and I tried not to judge his obvious non-corporate appearance of scruffy 2 day growth with a death metal t-shirt and a checked over shirt.

"Hey," he said.

"Yo." I answered, unsure whether I was going to engage him or not.

"What do you think of Mimi?" He asked, and I glanced over at the woman he was talking about. She'd always seemed kind of nice, the little I'd had to do with her.

I shrugged. "She's okay."

"Might have to hit that," Ian said with a sleazy look.

"Oh, dude, that's totally age-inappropriate," I said, shaking my head. She was at least twenty years older than us.

"Experience." He pointed out.

"Trifocals," I countered.

"There's a MILF there, Sam. I just know it," he said, pausing. "Maybe a GMILF."

"Come on," I said, inclining my head toward the break room.

"Coffee break?" Ian asked.

"Yeah, for sure." I answered. Anything to get him away from Mimi and change the subject.

We wound our way through the cubicles, passing Paul who was looking a little stressed and focused on his computer.

"Paul. Time for a refuel, buddy," Ian said, banging on the side of the cubicle.

"Sorry, no time," he replied, not even batting an eyelid as he continued to stare at his screen.

"Since when? Dude, we get paid by the hour," Ian scoffed.

"Working." Came the reply.

"Okay…." Ian said with a shrug, starting to walk again.

"He seems stressed." I said with a frown.

"Freaked because he got busted surfing porn on the Internet," Ian whispered.

"No, no, no way. When?" I asked incredulously.

"Got sent up to HR yesterday. Guess they put the fear of God in him."

As we reached the break room, the microwave dinged and Cassie took out a bag of popcorn and left, ignoring us. I headed for the coffeepot, intend on getting me some of that nectar of the Gods to keep me awake given that I was running on fumes right now with my recent sleep patterns. Ian was rummaging through a supply cupboard and pocketing some pencils.

"Ian, dude." I chastised.

"Just doing a little shopping. Running low at home." He excused with a shrug and I moved to hand him the mug of coffee I'd just made him.

He sipped at the hot beverage and looked at me curiously. "So, Sam, had any of those dreams lately?" I turned away, not keen to get into this discussion again and started to make my own coffee.

"What? Don't be like that. Come on. It's the highlight of my day," Ian said with a grin.

"I never should have told you in the first place." I lamented.

"They're genius. Don't hold out on me, dude. Share with the class."

"You're just gonna be a dick about it," I said, taking a sip of coffee.

"What? No way. I won't say a word. Total respect. Go." He said and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"I dreamt that I saved a Grim Reaper named Tessa from demons." I said a little sheepishly.

IAN burst out laughing and I knew once again I'd made a mistake talking to this guy. I sighed, shaking my head.

"Classic!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together once. "How much D&D did you play when you were a kid? Oh, my—okay, so you—rescuing the Grim Reaper. That's—you're a hero. I mean, thank God we got Harry Potter here to save us all from the apocalypse."

"Dick." I retorted.

"Wizard." Ian laughed in reply.

Later on in the afternoon, the same old was whirring and spitting out a paper. The fax machine was still beeping and sucking in papers, still, and someone else was using their electric pencil sharpener this time. I finished filling out a form on a clipboard, feeling the weight of the last few nights of dreams hitting me. I put the form down, yawning and resting my head on my hand feeling my mind already sinking into oblivion - even though I knew I was at work...

A montage of scenes shot through my mind… killing a beautiful dark haired woman with red eyes at a crossroads - I had this inner knowing that she was demonic. Then some emaciated creature was attacking a boy, and I was with the same couple I'd seen in the elevator a few nights ago - the three of us shot this creature, and then it attacked the woman again and the man had to attack further. The scene changed again and I was uttering Latin and sending a creature to its death. Scene change again and I saw the woman from earlier ram a stake through a vampire's chest while the man decapitated it and a splatter of blood hit him in the face.

I felt it, jerking awake and reaching for my face. Nothing. No blood, no evidence of the dream. I looked furtively around hoping that no one had seen me napping.

---

Blue Earth, Minnesota
Beth's POV
2 weeks ago

"Nope...nope… nope, I told you Sammy, we are out!" Dean said vehemently as he shook a bottle pancake mix. He stopped to look at it and grinned over at me. "You know, we could totally add chocolate chips to this."

"Oh, real mature Dean. Really?" Sam said with a sigh. "It's just a simple investigation. Three hours down the road."

"And when does it end Sam?" Dean asked, frowning. "There's no halfway in hunting, you're either in or you're out, right Jefferson?"

Jefferson raised his hands in the air from his position by the stove where he was heating a frypan. "Oh I'm not getting in the middle of this one, I manage to do both," he said with a grin. "But then, I am extraordinary."

"Beth?" Dean asked, looking at me.

"I...uh…" I shrugged. "I think some people might be able to juggle both. Do I think we can?" I shook my head. "I don't think it's in our blood. Cold turkey or not at all."

"See? See?" Dean said triumphantly. "There. Sorry Sam, you're on your own with this one."

Sam sighed angrily and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Fine I'll go myself." He said and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Wait, you're not even gonna stay for…. break...fast?" Dean called out with a more than cheerful tone, grimacing as the front door slammed. "Man, what side of the bed did he wake up on?"

I chuckled, moving to take the pancake mix out of his hand and pass it to the expectant Jefferson. "Well, you have to remember, we've never wanted to settle down. That was Sam's dream. It's got to be a little weird," I said to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Are we delusional?" Dean asked. "Can we not do this?"

"You kids are crazy," Jefferson chimed in. "But I'm proud of you. Your Dads would be proud."

"Ha, Dad would kill me," Dean said with a laugh, falling silent.

"Your Dad just wanted you to be happy," Jefferson said quietly, starting to pour the pancake mix into the skillet.

"He had a funny way of showing it," Dean said to me.

"Doesn't make him wrong," I pointed out, kissing him softly.

---

Present Day
Location: Unknown
Beth's POV

"Harder," Joe said to me as I punched the pad on his hand. I threw my weight into the punch, and then pivoted on my foot, bringing my leg up to catch the other pad with my foot, hitting him hard. I watched him stagger and then launched myself at him again, throwing three punches in quick succession, followed with another kick which send him sprawling back on the ground.

I came to a halt, panting and looking at the man below.

"Geez Beth, where the hell did that come from?" He asked, looking at me with a bit of admiration.

"I dunno," I gasped, leaning down with my hands on my knees. "I just… went with it."

"Well, it was good. You're a natural. But that's not Boxercise… you kick like you belong in a martial arts competition, woman," he said with a laugh, standing up. "You should get into some classes. If that's what you can do untrained, I want to see you with a bit of discipline under your belt."

Discipline.

Training.

Orders.

The words echoed in my mind, a man's voice speaking to me - but not a voice I was familiar with. It had been like this for weeks now. I shook my head, looking back at Joe.

"I'll think about it, talk to Dean…" I said with a nod. "But for now, I could use a shower."

In the change rooms I let the water pour down me, my mind turning to the dreams I'd been having of late. Things I hadn't told Dean because I didn't want him to worry… or worse, send me to the shrink.

Images flashed through my mind, of Dean and I in an alley late at night and a pulse of light hitting me, and sending me flying. Watching Dean attack something with a machete and killing it. Shooting at a creature that looked suspiciously like a werewolf. And then the man from the elevator, Sam… I think his name tag had read. He was speaking Latin and suddenly a black cloud of smoke was expelled from a person.

I blinked, the water hitting me in the face and then jumped back. It had long turned cold and I was freezing. "Damn!" I moved over to my bag, wrapping a towel around myself and glancing at my phone. It was getting late, Dean would be coming home soon. I needed to get moving if I was going to pick up dinner in time to get home and serve it up for us.

---

Present Day
Location: Unknown
Dean's POV

I was already in the elevator when the weirdo from a few days ago got on. He was immediately trying not to look at me, but it was a little obvious he was dying to say something. There was a ding, and the doors opened, most of the people exiting the elevator. Except for the guy.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked as soon as the doors closed. I was immediately on alert. What was it with this guy? I found myself wishing Beth was with me again.

"Look, man, I told you, I'm not into the, uh…." I stumbled to get it out, is this even PC to say? Last thing I needed was a lawsuit.

"Oh dude, come on, I'm not either. I just wanna ask you one question." The guy asked.

I looked around for escape, but there wasn't any coming. I figured the best thing I could do at this stage was humour him, and hope he didn't kill me and stuff me down the trash chute before I reached the foyer. "Sure."

"What do you think about ghosts?" He asked and I raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Ghosts?"

He nodded at me. "Do you believe in them?" He asked. I laughed. Was he nuts?

"Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought," I confessed.

"Vampires?" He questioned.

"What? Why?" I asked, chuckling a little. This whole line of questioning was starting to make me feel a little uncomfortable.

"Because I've been having some weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?" He asked. I raised my eyebrow.

"No. Not really," I said. But Beth had been…. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. It was just a coincidence. This guy was nuts.

"So you've never had any...weird dreams?" He pushed. I was starting to get a little frustrated. Who was this dude? And why was I suddenly his damn therapist?

"All right, look, man, I don't know you, okay?" I reached out and pushed the button for the nearest floor, feeling the elevator grind to a halt. "But I'm gonna do a public service and, uh, let you know that… that you overshare." The elevator door opened and I walked out. I'd take the stairs the rest of the way, I could probably use the exercise anyway.

---

Blue Earth, Minnesota

2 weeks ago

Dean's POV

I was shaking my head at Beth, trying not to make fun of the tears streaming down her face. She'd been a bit of an emotional mess for the last few weeks.

"Babe, you didn't think he was going to hole up here with us forever did you?" I asked and she shook her head. Jefferson was nowhere near as nomadic as we were, but Minnesota wasn't exactly his scene.

"No, but I kind of thought he might stay a little longer than a week…" she sniffed, watching the dust settle where Jefferson's plymouth had kicked up on his exit from 'domesticated bliss' as he'd called it.

"Well, we still have Sam," I said with a sigh, putting my arm around her.

"Yeah, uh, about that…" Sam said, clearing his throat behind us. I turned to see him standing on the porch with his duffel in hand, frowning at the pair of us. "I'm going."

"What? What do you mean?" Beth asked, the surprise evident on her face.

"You guys don't need me here, and I need to hunt," he said, shrugging. "I'm gonna go check out that case in Des Moines."

"Sammy, we're supposed to keep you safe," I said.

"Yeah, and you've done a bang up job of it so far, the pair of you," he countered and he might as well have slapped us.

"Now, hang on a minute…" I snapped.

"No, you hang on Dean. You went to Hell because of her." Sam said.

"That's right! I did. And I'd do it again. I'd also do it for you, Sammy. Because that's what we do, we keep each other safe." I said. It was something I knew we'd both do all over again, only this time I'd beat Beth to the deal…

"And it's stupid! Maybe I should be dead, maybe you'd both be able to have all this," he said as he waved his hands around at the house. "I can't see you guys giving up hunting for good, it's just … You're so used to moving around, I can't see you settling down. I can't see you letting me go." Sam said.

I had no reply for that. I knew there was no way I could win this argument.

"All right, well, you want to be an ungrateful little bitch, go ahead. Go hunting. But we've given enough for you, we've given everything for you, Sam. I owe it to Beth to try and make a real life here." I said, and Sam scoffed.

"But you could have had it without the guilt, without the worry of what I am up to all the time. You could have moved on and started a real life together, if you'd left me dead."

"You know what, you have all the answers Sam? Then go and do what you have to do, must be a bitch to be so freaking perfect!"

---

Present Day
Location Unknown

Sam's POV

"Did you turn it off, then on?" I asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time today. I scrawled a few images of vampires on the pad of paper in front of me, trying to recall everything about my dream from last night while I listened to the office worker on the phone. "All right, well, let's try that. No, no, it's fine, I'll wait."

I opened up a search engine on the computer while they were off fiddling with the printer, and then glanced around to make sure no one was looking. Somehow the last thing I wanted was corporate to find me search for Vampires while I was meant to be working. I typed in the word and then hit the enter key, watching as the screen was filled with pictures of Dracula wannabes - teeth and all. The voice of the woman from Finance came back on the line and thanked me.

"Is it printing now?" I asked, hearing an affirmative in reply. "Oh, that's great. Anytime."

"Whatcha doing?" Ian's voice startled me a little and I quickly minimised the search engine window on the computer, and covered up my drawings before turning to him.

"Nothing," I replied with a shrug. I smirked a little when I noticed that Ian was still the only person on the floor not wearing the yellow uniform shirts that we were supposed to.

"You get an email from Human Resources?" He asked, looking around.

"No. Why?"

Ian sighed. "Damn it. Guess it's just me, then. I'm supposed to, quote, report to HR, unquote." He waved his fingers in the air in the standard quoting sign as he spoke.

"They're probably finally busting you for snaking all those office supplies," I said, trying to stay positive.

"I hope they spank me," Ian laughed, shoving his chair back to his cubicle and then walking away.

I turned back to my search engine, intent on doing some more research on my latest dream when Paul's voice started to rise from the other side of the cubicle wall.

"No no no no no no. Come on. Don't do this to me. Please."

I frowned, closing the window again, taking off my headset and standing up to lean on the wall, looking in at the man.

"Hey, man, you okay?"

Paul was looking at his computer with a frantic expression on his face. "It froze."

"They're crap, Paul," I pointed out. "They freeze all the time."

"You don't understand. When I, when I rebooted, everything was gone. A whole day's work deleted," he replied, looking a little pale in the face, and I was sure I could see sweat starting to drip from his forehead.

"Well, did you back up?" Of course I knew the question to my answer before I even asked it. No one ever backs up.

"No, I didn't back up. I wish to God I backed up but I didn't. I'll get it back. I'll find it. It's somewhere. I'll find it." He turned back to the screen and resumed looking through files.

"Paul, it's okay, man. These things happen." But he wasn't listening to me.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown

Beth's POV

It was a little after 6pm, and Dean was working late again. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever see him before the clock hit 9pm on a weekday. I chuckled as I hit the button to close the door on the elevator, fiddling with the belt of my overcoat to make sure that the lingerie underneath was well hidden.

Looking at the numbers, I thought about the dream I'd had this morning, about fighting vampires and werewolves, and that same guy from the other day had been in it. I pushed the button for the IT department, feeling strange as the doors opened up on a dark room filled with cubicles.

I didn't know what I was looking for, after all, any normal person would have gone home by now, but maybe I was thinking I might find some information about this guy, somehow. Curiosity had gotten the better of me.

Flipping a switch by the door, the room flooded with light and I wandered the cubicles, looking for any evidence of who worked in them. Sam this guy's name had been, which was weird because I could have sworn I'd had the dreams and heard him called Sam before Dean and I had run into him in the elevator.

I thought back to that night, our anniversary, and giggled. Pulling my phone out I dialed Dean, and heard him pick up.

"Hey baby," his voice nonchalantly greeted me.

"Hi gorgeous. So, I'm in the building… somewhere… and I think you should come find me," I said with a smile.

"Oh really?" Dean's voice lifted and he sounded amused. "Do I get a clue as to where you are exactly? It's a big building."

"Hmmm, well, there's a lot of little offices, and I'm sure mice in yellow shirts work here… keeping your networks running," I said with a grin.

"Ha! Challenge accepted, wait 'til I get my hands on you," he said with a laugh.

"I'm counting on it," I said and I ended the call, wandering to a cubicle and sitting down. I looked around, leaning back on the desk, and startling when a couple of notebooks toppled from my elbow hitting them. "Oops." I leaned down to the floor to pick up the others, just as the elevator door dinged again, and I spotted Dean step out of the lift.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Dean called out in a playful tone. I giggled and ducked down, eyes coming to rest on the notepad in front of me, it was filled with drawings of vampires. I frowned, flipping through the pages and finding more and more things… ghosts, werewolves… monsters in general. I glanced up and the name on the cubicle read Sam Wesson.

"What the hell?" I said softly, jumping as two hands grabbed me.

"Ah ha, found you, I think I'm going to have to take you downtown for trespassing," Dean's voice whispered in my ear as he leaned down to me.

"Oh… please don't do that officer, I promise to be good...to you," I giggled, turning my attention to Dean. I slowly undid the belt at my waist, revealing the tight black leather and lace number I'd picked up earlier at the lingerie store.

Dean sucked in a breath and looked at me appreciatively. "Oh, yeah...you are already being good to me..."

"Should we go back to your office?" I asked and Dean shook his head.

"Uh, no… come on, there's a table…" he pulled me by the hand as he spoke, moving a few rows down the cubicles, "...right in... son of a bitch!"

Dean had stopped in the doorway to the breakroom and was blocking it with his arms, pushing me back.

"What? What is it?" I asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

"Don't look, you don't want to…" But I was already seeing what had happened. Someone was hanging out of the microwave, their head wedged inside… a couple of plastic forks shoved into the door latches.

"Oh my god!" I gasped. "Is he..?"

"Oh yeah, he's dead alright," Dean said, turning and pushing me back toward the elevator, pulling my overcoat closed and starting to cinch it at the waist while we waited for it to open, "we need to call someone." He took one last glance at my lingerie and cursed. "Son of a bitch!"

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Dean's Office

Dean's POV

"Yeah, yeah, Beth I'm fine, I need to be here and get a few things done. Are you okay?" I asked.

"I don't know Dean, I mean we found a man DEAD in a microwave last night, does something not seem right about that to you?" Beth asked and I chuckled.

"Yeah, the whole thing. I'm never eating popcorn again," I joked and Beth let out a little noise of chastisement.

"Dean! That poor man is dead!"

"I know, I know it. I was just trying to get a laugh," I said, sitting down at my desk and opening up a HR program, and the personnel file of Paul Dunbar, the man we'd found last night. I scrolled through a few general details and then stopped short.

"Beth. I'm looking at this guy's personnel file now. You know he was supposed to retire in two weeks?" I frowned, something about that just did not add up.

"Two weeks? Why would he kill himself then?" She asked. Why indeed?

---

2 weeks ago
Blue Earth, Minnesota

Dean's POV

Sam had been gone a while, and while I knew he was off sulking, he was also supposed to check in with us.

"He's fine, Dean," Beth said reassuringly. "You know he survived just fine while you were…" She stopped, and I glanced up to see a pained expression cross her face.

"While I was in Hell?" I asked and she nodded.

"From what you told me he was hanging around with Ruby an awful lot during that time, what if she's got something to do with him missing now?"

Beth sighed and shrugged as she flopped down on the couch with me. "I don't know Dean, but he's not answering his phone, and you know Sam, if he doesn't want to talk to us he won't. Remember when he left for Stanford? How many months was it before we heard anything?"

She was right. What's more is I knew she was, I just wasn't happy about it. "Well, I don't have to like it."

"What did you think was going to happen Dean? That we all settled down here, one big happy family?"

I looked at my hands, twirling my wedding ring and let out a long sigh.

"Oh babe, that was a long shot," Beth said softly when she realised that was exactly what I'd had in mind. To be honest I hadn't really thought that far ahead, but I'd expected Sam to join us either way.

"Yeah, I know," I replied with a sigh. "And it's eating at me, because… well I promised Dad I'd look after you both, and how can I do that when he's running off? Maybe Sam was right."

Beth bit her bottom lip that told me she was reconsidering our decision to stay here.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It hasn't even been a week. I talked to the guy in town yesterday and he has an opening for a mechanic. We're not giving up on this yet."

---

Present Day
Unknown Location - Cubicle Hell

Sam's POV

What I'd just heard had disturbed me, and didn't make a lot of sense. I rolled my chair over into Ian's cubicle and crossed my arms. "Hey. Why would someone kill themselves two weeks before they were supposed to retire? I mean, Paul was two weeks from freedom. He should have been happy, right?" I asked.

Ian spun around with a pained look on his face. "I don't have time for this, Sam."

I laughed, shaking my head. "That's very funny."

He spun back around to his computer and resumed typing furiously on the keyboard, and for the first time I was seeing him wearing a yellow shirt. Something was definitely not normal. "What's with you?"

"I'm working. It's important." Ian replied, not even turning around.

"HR bust your balls or something? You're wearing the shirt." I looked a little closer at him, frowning. "Did you shave?" Now that was weird.

The phone rang, and rather than letting it go like he usually did, Ian answered it in one ring.

"Tech support, this is Ian." He listened for a moment, and then nodded. "Be right up." He hung up the phone and looked back at me. "Gotta go up to twenty-two, speak to a manager." And just like that he took off his headset and left.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Dean's Office

Dean's POV

I was going over the last month's financials, and a few issues had started to crop up. I had to jump on them now before the new month started. Frowning, I shook my head trying to clear it, I could feel the beginnings of a migraine starting. There was a knock at the door, and I looked up to see one of the yellow shirted minions from downstairs standing in the open doorway.

"Hi. Ian, is it?" The guy nodded and I waved him in. "Yeah, come on in. Yesterday you filled out a 445-T and no problem, just a few errors when we did your switch over to Vista. So I'm sure you're used to filling out the dash-R's, am I right?" I smiled at the guy, but he started to look at me in horror.

"Oh, no." Ian said woefully.

'No no no. It's fine. It's fine," I said reassuring. "I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing." I pushed the form across the desk at him and smiled, but Ian was looking at it like I'd just asked him to sign over his first born.

"Oh my god." He repeated.

"No, it's fine. Just refile it and we're square." I said.

"I can't believe I did this," Ian muttered and it made me look a little harder at him. He was taking it pretty hard for a simple fix.

"I can't believe I—I can't believe I did this."

"Hey, guy, come on," I said..

"No, no. It affected profits. It—I screwed up. I—I can't—I can't—I am so sorry. I—how could I do that? I failed Sandover. I failed the company." Ian's face was constricted as he anxiously wrung his hands out.

"All right, why don't you sit down, Ian?" I said, gesturing to a chair in front of my desk.

"No." Ian turned on his heel and ran out of the room.

"Ian? Ian. Hey!" I jumped out of my chair and followed the frantic man as he ran along the corridor. He veered off as he hit the bathroom, and I followed him. Something was definitely not right here, and I needed to talk to Ian before he really freaked out.

"Ian, hey. Just chill out, man. Okay?" I said, seeing him staring into a mirror. The room was freezing, I could even see my breath a little. Had someone turned off the heating? Suddenly all the faucets came on, when no one had touched them. The soap dispensers started spitting out soap, and I did a doubletake.

"Ian, hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh? Come on. Ian. Look at me."

Ian turned to face me, pulling a pencil out of his pocket, staring at me for a moment and then acting before I could really think of what he'd had in mind. Without warning he stabbed the pencil into his neck, crying out in pain as a spout of blood gushed forward and then the man collapsed to the floor.

I knelt down, but there was so much blood, Ian was gasping for air and I couldn't help him. Something in the mirror caught my attention and I looked up. An old man was reflected in the mirror, and I jumped, spinning to find no one else in the room. When I looked back at the mirror, he was gone, as if he'd never been there. Then my eyes fell back to the man on the floor everything hit me at once.

"Somebody help me!" I yelled, but it was too late.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Office Building

Sam's POV

Something had happened to Ian, and Dean was in the middle of it. He'd been the manager to call Ian up to the twenty-second floor and he'd been there when he'd commit suicide.

Dean was now talking to a police officer, his face pale and hands shaking. "No, I, I followed him into the bathroom," he was saying, pausing to look as the coroner rolled Ian's body past on a gurney. Dean continued speaking. "He was, uh—he was standing there in front of the mirror, and then—" He paused, looking over and spotting me. We stared at each other for a moment.

"Continue. Sir," the Officer prompted and Dean shook his head, breaking our gaze.

"And he stabbed himself in the neck. I'm sorry, that's, um...that's all I know."

Back in the cubicle and the same old sounds and movements were occurring. No one seemed to even notice that Ian was missing, they were studiously working away at their computers.

My phone rang, and I answered it. "Tech support, this is Sam."

"I need to see you in my office. Now." I was Dean from the twenty-second floor and his tone was such that there would be no argument. I hung up with a curious look and wondered what he was going to want to talk about.

When I reached the office Dean was changing into a new shirt, I looked down at the chair near him, where he'd discarded a blood stained one, and grimaced. When I knocked on the open door, he looked up and waved me in.

"Just changing… don't want to scare the wife," he said and waved me in. "Come on in. Shut the door."

I'd no sooner closed the door before he was questioning me. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm not sure I know." I confessed.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked with an exasperated tone.

"Sam Wesson. I started here three weeks ago." I added to what I'd already said. Dean nodded.

"All right. You cornered me and my wife in the elevator talking about ghosts. And now…"

He paused, looking as if he'd seen a ghost and he didn't want to admit it. "Now what?"

"Now nothing. I, uh...so you started working here three weeks ago, huh?"

I nodded, watching as he reached for a bottle on his desk.

"Yeah, me too," he said. "It's our big opportunity, you know? Bigger paycheck, nice house… build the life we want." He unscrewed the top of the bottle and looked at me. "It's the Master Cleanse," he explained. "You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business." He took a long drink while I watched.

I wasn't being distracted by a change of topic. "When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I saw," Dean replied.

"Wait. Are you saying that—did you see a ghost?" I pressed, taking a few steps toward him.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door and the woman from the elevator walked into the office, closing the door behind her. She was dressed in simple jeans and a white crocheted top, her long wavy brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Hey, I got your message, are you okay?" She asked, moving across the room toward Dean who had re-capped his drink and was putting it on the desk.

"Yeah, no, no I'm not okay. I'm freaking out. The guy penciled his damn neck."

"Oh baby…that must have been horrible!" She reached his side and wrapped her arms around his neck and he hugged her back, burying his nose into her neck and taking a deep breath.

"It really was," he mumbled as his hands caressed her back. These two really were very… into… each other, I thought as I watched them cling to each other.

Clearing my throat, I sought to remind them I was still here. "Uh, can we get back to the… look, did you see a ghost?"

"Ghost?!" The woman exclaimed, pulling back and looking at Dean in alarm.

He glanced at me and then her, looking uncertain. "I think I did, yeah."

"But...there's no such thing as ghosts. Right?" She asked with a frown. I looked straight at Dean.

"You did, didn't you?" I asked, and I can tell by the look in his eye that he'd seen something strange. "Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?" I asked.

"So... ghosts are real?" The woman asked.

"And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?" Dean asked.

It was all a bit too much really. The three of us sat down almost simultaneously, the girl dropping into a chair by the desk, me into the matching one, while Dean moved back to his desk.

"I know it sounds crazy. But yes. That's what I'm telling you," I said finally.

Dean still looked skeptical. "Uh-huh. Based on what?"

I thought about it for a while, trying to come up with an answer that made sense. In the end I gave him the only one I could. "Instinct."

Dean looked down at the desk, shaking his head, and then glanced up at his wife and then me. "I've got the same instinct."

"Seriously? You know those dreams I was telling you about?" I asked.

"Dreams?" His wife asked, looking up at me.

"Yeah, he's having them too," Dean explained to her. "By the way, this is my wife, Beth. Beth, Sam."

"Hi," I said, realising I already knew her name. I'd dreamt it. "So, you're having dreams?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah…"

I sucked in a breath and then looked at them both. "I was dreaming about ghosts. And then it turns out that there's a real ghost."

"So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?" Dean asked.

"No," I scoffed. "I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So I've been digging around a little." I pulled some papers out of my bag, which I'd brought just in case this conversation actually took place. "I think I found a connection between the two guys." I leaned forward and handed the papers to Dean who looked them over before turning his eyes to me.

"You broke into their email accounts?" He asked with surprise.

"I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity," I replied.

"Nice," Beth said with a smile.

"Yeah. Okay. So it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four," I said. Dean thought about it.

"HR's on seven," he pointed out.

"Exactly," I replied. He started to look excited, glancing between me and then Beth.

"Should we go check this out?" He asked, and my heart jumped excitedly.

"Like right now?" I asked.

"No. No, it's getting late. You're right," Dean said as Beth raised an eyebrow at us both.

"I am dying to check this out right now," I said with a grin, leaning forward in my chair.

"Right?" Dean asked with a surge of excitement. "Honey, you should go home, we can …"

Beth snorted, shaking her head at Dean. "Are you kidding me? I kung-fu-ed Joe's ass and you're thinking about leaving me behind?"

"She what?" I asked.

Dean grimaced. "Don't ask, but she has a point…"

"You are so not leaving me out of this," Beth said, frowning at Dean.

"But it might not be safe," I said, regretting it almost instantly.

"What's your point?" She snapped back.

Dean sniggered. "No point arguing man, it's the new world, equality and all."

"No, right, of course. So, we're going, all of us, right now?" I asked. My heart was starting to thump harder in my chest, and I my stomach had butterflies, this was actually happening!

---

Blue Earth, Minnesota
1 week ago

Dean's POV

The screams echoed through my head, begging for mercy. I watched as the skin flipped off a girl's stomach, just hanging there in all its gruesome glory. A hound dog lapped at the blood that poured from it and then took a chunk. I turned away, not bearing to look as it started to eat her alive, the screams pitching even higher and growing more shrill by the second.

"Please, please, oh please make it stop!"

I couldn't. "What's the matter Dean? Don't you appreciate my work?" Alistair asked, breezing into the room with a smile plastered to his face. I scowled at him and glanced back at the soul which had fallen to whimpers and sobs, even more heart wrenching than the screams. "At least it's not you anymore… you remember what it was like? How you would beg… for her?"

I looked up sharply, and the soul on the wrack had been replaced with another, this time it looked like her. I shook my head. "No." Alistair laughed at me and clapped me on the shoulder.

"It's not really her, Dean, but I do enjoy seeing your face even when you know it's not," he said. He handed me a flail and gestured at the beautiful brown haired, brown eyed beauty staring back at me wide-eyed and terrified.

"Please don't hurt me," she begged, tears falling from her eyes.

"Dean," Beth's voice echoed as if from a long way, creating a surround sound effect as she whimpered and begged from the rack in unison with the other more surreal sound. "Dean, wake up."

I felt her hands on me starting to pull me away from the scene. "Wake up!" Her voice grew louder, and more like an order, and I fought to reach it. Alistair laughed at me, and I reached out, as if clawing my way through skin, through dirt to get to the other side.

Gasping for air I sat up, the darkness of the room enclosing around me like a thick blanket. Beth snapped on the light by the bed and reached out for me, still murmuring reassurances. "It's just a dream, Dean. Just a dream."

I nodded and taking more deep breaths, trying to still my racing heart. "Here," Beth said, sitting up beside me and holding a glass of water. "Take a drink, it'll help."

I gulped down the cool fluid and groaned softly at the sensation. Even now, with how long I'd been free of Hell, my body still reacted with pleasure to simple H2O. For so many years I'd gone without it, such a simple thing we take for granted - I would never take water or the woman beside me for granted again.

"Thanks," I said softly, putting the glass on my bedside table. I reached for Beth and pulled us back down on the pillows, wrapping my arms around her body until she wriggled in beside me, head resting on my shoulder, her breath tickling my neck. "Go back to sleep, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" She asked sleepily and I nodded.

"Yeah, I've got you. I'm fine," I said, kissing the top of her head.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Office Building

Dean's POV

The corridor was pretty much deserted, I couldn't really remember what was down here anyway, from what I could recall it was a pretty defunct floor these days. Out of the blue we started to hear yelling and so we rushed down the hall to the door. It was room 1444. I tried the handle but it was locked.

"Stand back," said Sam, and then without any further warning he kicked the door open.

"Whoa…" I said, staring at him in shock. I glanced about to see an old storage room of computer monitors on shelves, they were all on and filled with static - like something out of Poltergeist.

"Look!" Beth said, rushing into the room. There was a man on the floor, and a shelf was pinning him down. Sam and I moved to get the shelf off him, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something move, turning to see the old man from the bathroom appear out of nowhere. There was a shout and Sam was pushed up against a wall, and then I felt myself lifted off my feet, hurtling through air before crashing into a shelf with a grunt.

I looked up long enough to see Beth pick up a wrench from a shelf and swing it at the old man, he disappeared as soon as she hit him and everything stopped shaking, the monitors switching off.

"Dean, help me!" Sam said, scrambling up to his feet and together we lifted the shelves off the man on the floor. He scooted out and we let them drop again.

"How did you know to do that?" Sam asked Beth, turning to look at her. She was breathing hard and staring at the wrench in her hand.

"I have no idea," she replied.

"Yeah well, I don't feel like sticking around to find out, let's get out of here," I said gruffly, taking her arm and she nodded, looking a little pale faced.

Back at home, I was chugging down on my Master Cleanse, though the excitement of what had just happened was probably going to be enough to keep me regular for a while. Beth had lit the gas fireplace and was fussing around in the kitchen while I paced the open planned living room.

"Holy crap dude," I muttered.

"Yeah. I could use a beer," Sam said, leaning on the back of the couch and looking around at the house.

"Oh, sorry, man. I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house," I said apologetically and Beth chuckled, shaking her head and going to the fridge. I watched as she moved a few boxes of protein bars, and pulled out a couple of beers, my mouth dropping open.

"Babe, you've been holding out on me!"

"Sorry…" she said apologetically, dropping a kiss on my cheek before passing a beer to Sam, who took it with a chuckle. I growled and then took the other beer from her, opening it and taking a long, hard drink.

"Hey. How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?" Sam asked again and Beth shrugged, returning to the fridge and grabbing another beer for herself.

"Crazy, right?" She said. "I just grabbed the nearest weapon, but it felt like the right thing to do."

"And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?" I commented, gesturing to Sam.

"No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like...we've done this before." Sam replied.

"What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. I—I just can't shake this feeling like I—like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle." Sam answered.

"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way," Beth said and I laughed.

"No." Sam said, standing up and beginning to pace. "Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name... I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different."

I'd taken a seat on the couch with Beth while he talked, and now he came to stop in front of us. "What about you? You ever feel that way?" Sam asked.

I shrugged. "I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though," I replied.

"All right, so, what do we do now?" Sam asked.

"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research," I replied, pulling my laptop out of my brief case and putting it on the dinner table.

"Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Did I?" I asked, thinking about it - somehow he just looked like a Sammy.

"I think you did. Yeah," Sam replied with a short nod and another frown. "Don't."

"Sorry," I shrugged, turning to the computer. Beth had already opened her laptop and was looking through pages online.

I typed in the words 'ghost' and 'hunt' and 'real' and hit enter, waiting for the search engine to generate results, sipping on my beer and reveling in the best thing I'd tasted in three weeks.

"Oh, jackpot!" I said with a smile and Sam and Beth came over to look. "I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters. These guys are genius. Check it out."

The website was for a couple of guys called Ghostfacers, and they had videos and everything. I pulled up a video on their front page and found a couple of geeky looking guys staring back at us wearing white lab coats. Stuttering through their introduction, they talked about how we were looking at their site because we had a ghost problem - well duh, why else would we be there?

One guy was yabbering on about what we needed to do. "First step in any supernatural fight... figure out what you're up against."

"I think I can help with that," Beth said, cutting in with her laptop. On the screen was an article about the company I worked for and the building we were in, including the founder's death."

"That's him. That's the ghost," I said, recognising the man in the photo.

Sam looked over Beth's shoulder and started to read. "P. T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids."

"The article text visible next to the picture reads 'Office 1444 was considered to be the center of the company's operations, with Sandover himself overseeing all details of any construction project the company undertook. Considered to be a difficult person to work for, P.T. Sandover had an exceptionally high standard of quality, often marching onto construction sites and halting all work until he personally inspected each aspect of the structure. Aiming for perfection is perhaps why the Sandover legacy is so impressive, dominating the industry with the scale and scope of its projects." Beth finished reading the article and looked up.

"He used to say he was the company, and his very blood pumped through the building," she added.

"Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it?" I said, still watching these idiots on the screen talking about ghosts.

"Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929." Sam said, pulling up another article on Beth's laptop and reading from it.

"Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high rises that year," I pointed out.

"How many companies had seventeen suicides?" Sam asked.

"Phew. Okay, so P. T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress." I sum up, feeling like the motive of this spirit, ghost, whatever, was coming into place.

"Well, this is kind of the worst time we've seen since the Great Depression…" Beth said.

"Yeah, now sucks," I agreed. "My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it." Beth smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back.

"So Sandover's helping the bottom line…" Sam was thinking out loud.

"By zapping some model employees," I finished with a nod.

"Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people," Sam said.

"Perfect worker bees, exactly," I said excitedly, pointing at Sam. "So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it."

Beth was looking at the screen, and reading. She looked up, making that little sound she always did when she was on to something good. "One more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office."

"Once you've got that thing in your sights…" came the voice from the video. "You kill it. Using special ghost-hunting weapons. First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts. Burny acid. Not LSD..." I chuckled, these guys were hilarious. "No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron."

"That's why the wrench worked," Sam commented and Beth nodded.

"Next little trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags… that we hate... The Winchesters," the guys continued talking as we watched. "Gun."

"Gun?!" I asked.

"Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt. Very effective. Winchesters still suck ass, though."

"Phew, they really don't like those guys," I said with a chuckle. "So what do we got?"

A few minutes later we were packing up a bag with two pokers from the fireplace, and some other iron objects, plus the salt from the kitchen. I stopped to think about the other item on the Ghostfacers shopping list. "Where do we even get a gun?"

"Gun store?" Beth asked.

"Isn't there like some kind of waiting period or something?" I wondered.

"I think so," Sam said with a nod.

"Well, how in the hell…"

"I don't know, seems kind of impossible really," Beth interrupted, and I nodded.

"Right. Back to the video." I said, sitting down at the table again and hitting the play button to restart the video.

"The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains. Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry. It's illegal in some states.

"All states," Beth commented.

"Possibly all states," the video continued and I laughed.

"Sandover was cremated," Beth said, looking at the article on her computer.

"What? So what do we do now?" I asked.

"Now, if the deceased has been cremated—Don't panic," the video was just droning on as we discussed our options.

"Don't panic, apparently," Sam said with a snigger.

"Just gotta look for some other remains. A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth. Genetic material. You know what we're talking about. Go find it. Fight well, young lions. Godspeed."

---

Present Day
Location unknown - Office Building

Beth's POV

"How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speck of DNA in a skyscraper?" Sam asked as we entered the deserted office building using Dean's swipe card..

"Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office, right?" I asked, thinking about where it was likely there might be something of his left behind.

"Right, good as any place to start looking," Dean agreed, hitting the button for floor 14.

Dean was looking at his phone. "Set your cell phone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated," he said, and I grabbed my phone out of my jeans pocket.

The whole building had a more creepy vibe to it once every had gone home, must have just been the abandoned feeling, but the dark corridors had me internally jumping at every shadow, though I tried not to show that to the boys as we started to look through the things in the storage room.

Sam and Dean were looking through a few filing cabinets behind some shelves while I rifled through a dusty old desk the was still standing in the middle of the room. It crossed my mind several times that this was probably the very desk that Sandover had sat us when he ruled his empire. Surely this thing had to be an antique? Why was it still sitting here untouched?

"What the hell are you doing here?" A voice echoed into the room and I startled, looking up at a security guard standing right next to me. I saw Dean and Sam duck out of sight.

"Nothing, I just…"

"Come with me," the guard said, and I had no choice other than to play this out. He grabbed me by the arm, pulling me out of the office and shutting the door behind us. I glanced at his nametag, it read Larry.

"Look. Larry. It's okay. I—I work here," I lied. I really didn't have an explanation as to why the wife of a manager would be running around in here; not without exposing Dean in the process.

"Oh yeah? Pretty thing like you?" He asked, his eyes trailing down the length of my body and then back up to rest on my cleavage.

"Yeah… I do. And, well…" I decided to run with it, after all, if you have it use it. "I always did have a thing for big, handsome… men in uniform." I reached out a hand to trail my fingers along his name embroidered on his security uniform.

"Is that right?" He asked, smiling.

"Uh huh…" I replied with a smile, batting my eyes at him.

"I think you need to come with me… and we'll just get you cleared in my … uh… office." He slid his hand around my waist and I had to stop myself from recoiling when he started walking me to the elevator, his hand dropping down to my ass and giving it a little squeeze. Once inside the elevator he pushed me face up against the mirrored wall, his hands sliding around to my front, grabbing at my breasts and squeezing them as he ground his hips against my ass. I grunted, bracing against the assault and prepared to drop him as soon as the doors opened. I'd done it to Joe, I could do it again.

Before I even had a chance, the small computer screen inside the elevator turned to static, and the temperature must have dropped about twenty degrees almost instantly. The elevator screeched to a halt with a jerk and Larry cursed. He released me, grabbing his keys to open the inner doors, and then with his hands he opened the outside doors to the building. It was evident that we were stuck between floors.

Larry assessed the climb out, and then looked back at me. "Well, come on," he said, just as something made a creaking, ominous sound.

"What?" I asked, frowning at him.

"Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here," he said. I looked around the tiny box we were trapped in, starting to feel like we were in the trash compactor of the Death Star and the walls were closing in. Even with that in mind, I was in no hurry to climb through those doors.

"Let's just wait," I said.

"It's more comfortable in my office," Larry said, his eyes dropping south again. "We can get out and take the stairs." He didn't wait for me, hoisting himself out on to the floor that was half way up the opening, kicking his legs out and wriggling forward. He got free of the elevator and turned back, extending his hand to me through the opening.

"Seriously, I'll wait," I said, crossing my arms. He sighed and leaned forward, reaching for me as his body extended further toward me.

"Look, I don't have the rest of my life." He said, and as if on cue, the elevator jerked downward without warning, and a spray of warm blood hit me square across the face and torso. I screamed, dropping my phone to the floor where it came to rest by the now decapitated head of Larry.

"Beth?! Baby, are you okay?" Dean's voice came over the walkie talkie app on the phone.

I reached down for the phone, standing up again to look into the mirror on the wall: blood was plastered all across my beautiful white top, and my face and up into my hair.

"Uh...uh...I'll call you back," I said, grimacing.

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Office Building

Dean's POV

I'd told Beth to meet us on my office floor, but I wasn't expecting to see her walk in covered in blood, all except for where she'd obviously wiped her face with a towel.

"Whoa. Jesus," I exclaimed, rushing to her site. "Are you okay?"

Beth grabbed me in a tight hug, her arms holding me close as I felt her trembling body against mine. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I think," she said.

"That's a lot of blood," Sam commented with concern as he walked up to us.

"Yeah, I know," she said with a short nod. "Fortunately not mine…" She pulled away after one more squeeze and wiped a hand over her face. "So what did you find?"

"Uh, over here," I said, pulling my attention back to what we'd been working on. I took her hand and pulled her over to a glass display against the wall. There was a pair of gloves inside.

"P. T. Sandover's gloves," Sam said.

"Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something," I said with a triumphant smile.

"Makes sense," Beth nodded.

"So you ready?" Sam asked, and I contemplated the question.

"I have no idea," I confessed.

"Me neither," Sam said. Beth picked up one of the pokers we'd laid against the wall and shot us a determined look.

"After what I've just seen, I am," she said, and it occurred to me that I hadn't asked whose blood was sprayed all across her. No time for that, however, it was action time. I picked up the other poker and Sam took up the container of salt from the bag.

"Go for it," he said to Beth.

"Right," she said with a nod, and rammed the poker forward, smashing the glass. The room got cold, real cold, and then I found myself flying through the air again. First I hit the wall, dropping my poker, and then Sam and Beth too were thrown. I could see the old man's hands sparking as he moved toward Sam, who struggled to his feet, flinging salt at the ghost. As soon as the salt hit him, the spirit disappeared. I stood up, looking around.

"Oh nice!" I said with a smile.

"Dean!" Beth yelled, and tossed her poker toward me. I caught it, reacting instantly and turning in one smooth move to swing it through Sandover. He disappeared as soon as the iron hit him, just like the last time.

"Nice catch," Sam breathed.

"Right?" I asked, chuffed with my Batman moves.

Beth stood up and moved to pick up the other poker which I'd dropped. The frosty breath from our mouths gave us pre-warning that he was about to appear. As soon as the ghost reappeared between Beth and I we swung together, and the ghost dissipated, only to reappear behind Sam. Spinning around, Sam tossed salt at him, but the ghost moved fast, tossing first me and then Sam into opposite walls.

I could see the sparks from his hands as the old man's spirit moved toward me.

"Beth, the gloves!" I called out as I made the connection. She moved toward the broken display and I looked over to see her grab the gloves and flick her lighter, setting fire to the fabric and dropping them to the floor. With a screech, the old man's figure erupted into fire and then fell to the ground in ash before disappearing for good.

"That was amazing!" Sam said.

"Right? Right?" I said with excitement, jumping to my feet.

I grabbed Beth in a bear hug and spun her around. "Great job babe!" She looked proud of herself and kissed me quickly. I looked at the blood that had dried and caked in her hair, grimacing a little. "Let's get you cleaned up, huh?"

It was a short walk to my office, and I pulled a first aid kit out of my desk, grabbing some gauze for Sam to apply to a few of his cuts and such, but Beth was going to need more than a band-aid to fix her mess. I pulled a towel out of the bottom drawer of my desk, from when I was working out in the office gym. Turning to my little bar fridge, I pulled out a bottle of water, grabbing a mug to pour it into and wet the towel.

"Man, I gotta tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life," I said, pouring the water and setting it on the table, gesturing for Beth to come closer.

"Me neither," she smiled.

"Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?" I asked, dabbing at her face with the wet towel, starting to wash some of the water out of her hairline.

"We should keep doing this," Sam said from beside us.

"I know," I said, dragging the towel down the side of Beth's face and scrubbing at some blood on her chin.

"I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people," Sam kept on.

"We'd be like the Ghostfacers," Beth commented with a smirk.

"No, really. I mean, for real," Sam said. I paused, letting the towel drop to my side.

"What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?" I asked skeptically.

"Exactly," came the reply.

"How would we live?" Beth asked.

"Uh…" Sam clearly hadn't thought this through.

"You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?" I asked. He had to be mad, who the hell would choose a life like that?

"That's all just details," Sam said, crossing his arms defensively.

"Details are everything. You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance," I pointed out. Beth shifted next to me, starting to fidget and I turned to look questioningly at her.

"All right. Um. Confession," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts?" She questioned.

"Yeah?"

"I was fighting them," she said pointedly.

"Okay…"

"With you… and Sam. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers and sister, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are?" She asked, looking from me to Sam.

"Well, then that would be sick, you're my wife!" I said with a frown.

"Man, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?" Sam asked.

"That's insane." And it was insane. Beth was no more my sister than he was my brother. I mean, I think I would know if I'd married my sister.

"Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life, but it's not?" Sam asked.

"Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but…"

"Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be," Sam interrupted.

"No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and I have two sisters named Jo and Nicole," I said. I knew who I was.

"When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them?" Sam asked, and I looked at him incredulously.

"Okay, you're upset. You're upset, you're confused…"

"Yeah, 'cause I only moved here 'cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital," Sam pointed out.

"Okay. What are you saying?" Beth asked. "Are you trying to say that our family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on. I've met Dean's family, I married into it."

"All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut," Sam said looking at me. "And I know...I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag." He looked over at Beth, sighing. "And you're not some trophy wife. This isn't you. I know you guys."

The trophy wife kind of hit me the hardest. I mean, I know I'd been wanting Beth to stay home and just enjoy life, but it wasn't because she wasn't capable… I just wanted her safe… No, he was totally wrong about us. "Know us? You don't know us, pal," I said, dipping the towel into the water again and starting to clean Beth's face again. "You should go."

Sam stared at us for a few moments and then turned and left the room.

"That dude is crazy," I muttered to Beth, and looked up to see her chewing on her lip. "Right? He doesn't know anything about us."

---

3 days ago
Blue Earth, Minnesota

Beth's POV

"Dean, are you insane?" I asked, watched as he pulled me out to a pickup truck parked in the driveway. The back of it was filled with seedlings of all kinds, along with some palings and a bunch of compost that Dean had just declared he was going to turn into vegetable gardens.

"What? Insane? No! Think about it! We've spent all our lives driving around eating shitty diner food and living in motels. Now we're in a house. We should grow our own food, isn't that what people do?"

"Uh, well… some people do, but … Dean we don't know the first thing about growing food. Let alone cooking it!"

"We'll learn! I … we can take some cooking lessons at the college in town, it'll be fun," he said.

I put my hand out, stopping him as he started to remove the seedlings from the truck and put them on the porch. "Dean, what's going on here? Don't you think this is a little overkill?"

"What? No… I just thought we should … well if we're going to do this we might as well go all in, right?"

"I guess," I said softly.

"I thought you'd like this?" He said, frowning.

"Yeah, I do. Of course I do," I reassured quickly, moving to slide my hands around his waist. "But we don't have to get it all done in the first few weeks. I'd rather spend some time with you, just us, doing things we really want to do…"

"Hmmm," Dean said thoughtfully. "Well there is that too, we should have a holiday. You know, we could take a road trip, visit the Grand Canyon!"

I smiled and nodded. "You know, that sounds pretty awesome, actually."

---

Present Day
Location Unknown - Dean's Office

Beth's POV

Dean was back on his Master Cleanse, and still ranting about Sam almost a day later. He stopped to look at me and I sighed.

"You know he quit this morning, right?" He asked and I shook my head. "Took a poker to his phone and smashed it to smithereens. The guy is nuts."

"Yeah, yeah that is kind of crazy," I agreed, but I was starting to question whether or not he'd had a point. I'd tried calling Dean's sister this morning, and gotten a disconnected phone number. That wasn't like Nicole at all.

"I mean, what is he thinking? A life on the road, hunting god knows what? That's no life for you, or me. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to have everything you want. A nice house, nice clothes… kids." Dean was pacing the room now, waving his hands in the air.

"Kids?" I asked, looking up with surprise, and he stopped walking, smiling hesitantly at me.

"Well… yeah… I kind of thought we could talk about starting…"

"A family?" I asked dubiously. Dean nodded. "Really? With the hours you work?"

"Well I can cut back… spend more time with you…" There was a knock at the door and an older, round-faced man stuck his head around the door, smiling.

"Got a minute?" He asked.

Dean straightened up, nodding his head and I could see him mentally shifting gears in his head from our conversation and back to work. "Sure, of course."

The man smiled and came into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Uh, Mr Adler, this is my wife, Beth." Dean said as the man turned to look at me.

"Yeah, yes, of course. Pleasure. How are you Beth?" Adler asked with another really over exaggerated smile.

"I'm well, thank you," I replied, taking a seat by Dean's desk.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Adler asked, turning back to Dean.

"Uh, great," Dean replied, nodding and taking another sip of his drink.

"You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather."

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing," he said, sitting down in front of Dean's desk in the other vacant chair. "That's why it's important to me that you're happy." He pulled out a pen from his suit jacket, and grabbed a notepad from the desk, writing down a number that I could have sworn has five digits. He finished and slip it across the table to Dean. "How's that for a bonus?"

Dean looked down at the paper, the surprise evident on his face as he whistled and shook his head. "That's very generous."

Adler turned to smile at me. "Purely selfish. Wanna make sure he's not going anywhere," he confessed and I returned the smile. Something about him was making me want to squirm in my chair.

"Wow. Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter. Carving your own way," Adler replied with a nod.

"Well, thanks. I try," Dean said with a smile.

"I see big things in your future. Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. There's benefits to be had with that kind of a promotion too, you know. Just think of it - holiday houses, cruises, hey, even private school for the kids." Adler said. I looked up sharply, thinking about what Dean and I had just been discussing.

"Private...school?" I stuttered. Dean looked at me, and bit down on his lower lip, frowning.

"Uh, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um...but…" Dean's voice trailed off as he handed back the notepad. "I am giving my notice."

"This is a joke," Adler said. "You're kidding me, right?

"No. I've—I recently—uh, very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's, uh, very important to me," Dean said, and I nodded. Somehow, being handed all the things we were looking for - the opportunity for a home, a family, a life full of privilege just seemed… not us.

"Other work? Another company?" Adler asked.

"No, I—it's hard to explain. Um. It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be. It's not us," Dean said and I nodded.

Adler grinned: not the response we were expecting from Dean resigning.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally," he said, and he stood up reaching out two hands to us. He pressed two fingers to both our foreheads simultaneously and suddenly we were standing in the kitchen to our home in Minnesota.

"What the hell? Why am I wearing a tie?" Dean asked. "My God, am I hungry."

ADLER laughed with delight. "Welcome back."

"Wait," Dean said. "Did I—did I just get touched by—you're an angel, aren't you?"

"I'm Zachariah," he said with a nod.

"Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys," Dean muttered, turning to the fridge and pulling out a beer.

"I'm hardly another one, Dean," Zachariah said, looking offended. "I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." He waved his hands up and down his body, indicating his current vessel. "But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."

"We am not one of your ducks," Dean said stonily, sipping at his beer. I moved around the island bench to stand next to Dean, the counter now separating us from this new angel.

"Starting with your attitude," the angel said.

"Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative," Dean said.

"You should see my decoupage," Zachariah joked.

"Gross. No thank you." Dean said.

"So, what?" I asked. "We were just hallucinating all that? Is that it?"

"Not at all," he replied. "Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you guys in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

"Sam too?" I asked, looking around and wondering where he was.

"Sam too. But I returned him to his current location," the angel replied.

"So what? This was just done to shake things up? Hm?" Dean asked. "So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?"

"To prove to you that the path you're on isn't truly in your blood, you don't belong here in domesticated bliss. You're hunters. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it." Zachariah answered. "You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. Dean, you will stop it."

"Stop what? The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man." Dean said, raising his voice.

"You'll do everything you're destined to do. Both of you. But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?" Zachariah said.

"Angel or not, I will stab you in your face," Dean scowled.

"All I'm saying is... it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things, both of you," Zachariah said.

Dean took a step back, extending his arm out and making sure that I was behind him.

"Yeah, well, we are giving it up. You've taken enough from us. Time for us to do what we want," Dean said. "To stop throwing our lives on the line every damn day."

"Are you kidding? This isn't you guys? You don't belong in some old chapel in Minnesota. You have bigger destinies than that. You're here to save people, maybe even the world."

"We've made our decision," Dean said determinedly.

"That's not a decision! I think you made your decision just now, you didn't choose the money Dean. You didn't choose the safe life, in a home, with a family." Zachariah said. "I heard you guys talking in there, about popping out a few young ones. That's not you."

The remark about children stabbed me through the stomach. "You have no idea what is us. What we've lost. What we want," I said.

"Look, I know you lost your kid, I know. But you have to understand… everything happens for a reason, and you… you guys have a destiny. You guys are meant to be hunting. And why wouldn't you want to?" Zachariah said.

"We've been hunting our whole lives, trust me, it's getting a little old," Dean said.

"It's a good life! You drive a classic car and get to fornicate with this… this beautiful woman. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Pop out a kid, or two, well that's real smart with the Apocalypse hanging over our heads. How are you going to explain that to them? How are you going to protect them?"

I glanced at Dean, the same old training from John popping up again, especially with the instinct to protect Sam from all the bad things out there. If we had children… Dean was looking at me with the same apprehension, and then his eyes shifted to the same old stubborn Winchester he'd always been.

"Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?" Zachariah pressed.

"We are about to go to the damn Grand Canyon, which we've never been to I might add!" Dean muttered.

"Oh please! The Grand Canyon isn't that impressive. Trust me, really poor effort on Hael's part, I must say."

Dean's mouth opened and then shut as his phone started to ring. I looked at it, seeing Sam's name and answered it.

"Sammy? Are you okay?" I asked. I listened to Sam rambling about the latest haunting case he was on and something he'd discovered in a comic book store - something called the Supernatural book series.

"... and you guys gotta come and see this, Beth. Something really weird is going on. You need to read these books."

"Is he okay?" Dean asked and I nodded at him.

"Yeah, okay, yes, all right - I hear you. We'll be there as soon as we can," I said to our brother.

"Finally!" Zachariah said triumphantly.

"No. No no no no no, Beth. Grand Canyon.. Sammy can deal with whatever the problem is on his own!" Dean said stubbornly.

"Oh I think we're going to want to see this," I said to him, but I felt it too. It was on our bucket list, and right now seemed to be the closest we'd ever gotten to it. Even when we'd been in Nevada on jobs, we never got to the Canyon, something stopping us - like it was to be savoured, not just a rush visit for an hour on our way past. We were still trying to reach it.

"God dammit! This isn't over, Zach, or whatever the hell your name is. It's just a … detour," Dean said, pointing at the angel.

"Sure it is. Welcome back to the life, go fulfill your destiny!" The angel replied, vanishing into thin air.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES

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Song for this chapter is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

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I just want to say a quick hi to paddy77 - so glad to see you're still around and thank you for the wonderful comments last chapter!

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Up next we get to see a bit of fangirling: how fun will it be to write Beth into the fandom? :D

I've been watching Season 9 again and trying to work a few things - like how Beth fits into the story. Still tossing around a few ideas with it. I'm back on my original thoughts with where to take it, but oohhhhh so hard to see the full picture yet with it all: I need to watch Season 10 again, and really get a sense of where I'm taking Beth mentally and physically, and how she's going to react to Dean turning demon. Things are going to get dark! But I'm up for the challenge :) I still have MY ending written and I'm working toward it, come what may...

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one :)