This is my first story, so please be nice. Tell me what you think.

I do not own any of the characters (except for Alex) and I do not own any of the storylines.

Chapter 29

Dean, Alex, and Sam sat in a small bus as they toured a Hollywood movie set. The tour guide droned on in his annoying monotone voice as he talked about the setting of the TV show, Gilmore Girls. Alex suddenly sat up in her seat and smacked Sam's shoulder, hard.

"I love that show! You know, you look like one of Rory's boyfriend's from that show. His name was Dean."

Sam rolled his eyes. "C'mon."

He stepped off of the slowly moving vehicle and Alex followed him, yanking Dean's arm to follow them. The three of them walked past trailers and sets, looking for Stage 9.

"I think Stage 9 is over here," said Sam, heading towards the right.

"God, I wanted to come here for vacation, not work," whined Alex.

"We figured with everything that happened with Madison, you could use a little R and R," said Dean, looking at Sam.

"Maybe work keeps my mind off things," said Sam. He kept looking for Stage 9, never glancing at his siblings.

"Fine. So this crew guy died on set?" asked Alex, popping her gum.

"Yep. Rumors online say the set's haunted," said Sam.

"What's his name?" asked Dean.

"Frank Jaffy. But the girl who found him says she saw something like a vanishing figure."

"And her name?" asked Alex, blowing a large bubble and then popping her gum once again.

"Tara Benchly," said Sam.

He stopped walking then and held his open hand under Alex's mouth. She rolled her eyes, but spit her gum into Sam's open palm. Sam threw it on the ground beside them and wiped his now sticky hand on his jeans. Sam then continued walking forward and Alex slowed, popping another piece of gum into her mouth. Dean smirked and shook his head.

The three Winchesters ducked under the garage door that was closing and found themselves in Stage 9. They began inspecting the whole set and were looking everywhere when the director called out to them.

"Hey, green shirt guy?"

Dean looked down at his green shirt and pointed to himself. The director nodded profusely.

"Yeah, you. C'mere."

Dean looked at Alex and Sam, who just shrugged their shoulders. Dean sighed and walked over to the man.

"Can you get me a smoothie from Cathy?"

"You want a what from who?" asked Dean.

The man scoffed and popped a small mint into his mouth.

"You are a P.A. This is what you do."

Sam, having overheard the conversation, quickly walked over to the two of them to help save Dean. He smiled at the director, who was glaring at Dean, his look full of disdain.

"Yep. One smoothie comin' right up."

The director smiled at Sam and Sam led Dean back to where Alex stood.

"What's a P.A.?" asked Dean.

"I think they're kind of like slaves," said Sam.

Alex laughed and walked with her brothers.

"Personal assistant," she answered.

"Oh," said Sam and Dean, understanding finally dawning.

An hour or so later, Dean held a tray of smoothies in his hands as he walked around the movie set on Stage 9. He looked beside him and saw a metal staircase leading up to the very top of the set. He quickly glanced around him to make sure no one was watching. Once the coast was clear, Dean set the tray down and began climbing up the stairs. As he stepped on the fifth stair, the lights went down as filming began. Dean cursed under his breath. He dug a small flashlight from out of his jacket pocket and turned it on, continuing his climb up the stairs. Dean heard muffled voices as he climbed and he took out his EMF reader at the top.

About 20 minutes later, Sam and Alex met Dean by the snack table on set.

"So?" asked Sam.

"No EMF anywhere," said Dean, popping a handful of candy into his mouth.

"So what do you think?" asked Alex, her hands on her hips.

"Well, I think bein' a P.A. sucks. Look at these things."

Dean grabbed a sandwich off a platter and held it out to Sam.

"They're like little Philly cheese steak sandwiches. They're delicious!"

Dean held the sandwich out to Sam. Sam looked at the sandwich and forced a smile onto his face. "Maybe later."

Dean held it out to Alex, who shook her head. Dean nodded and took a huge bite out of the sandwich.

"What'd you find out about the dead crew guy?" asked Dean, his mouth full of food.

"Frank Jaffy was just fillin' in for the day. Nobody here knew him or anything. But we did dig up some stuff about Stage 9's history," said Sam.

"Four people have died here in the past eight years. Two suicides and two fatal accidents," said Alex.

"We just gotta narrow it down more," said Sam.

Dean's focus from his siblings was lost as a very beautiful actress sat down in her chair, which was only a few feet away from where the siblings were standing. He swallowed the huge bite of food he had been chewing.

"I'll get right on that."

Dean pushed past Sam and Alex, heading for the girl. They both turned and watched Dean grab a script from a passing producer. He walked up to the girl, holding the paper in his hands.

Dean, Sam, and Alex stood on the front steps of Frank Jaffy's house a few hours later. A man opened the door a few seconds after Sam knocked.

"Gerard St. James?" asked Dean.

The man nodded slowly.

"You're still alive. And you're not Frank Jaffy," said Sam.

"Nope," replied the man. He stepped aside to let them into his house.

"So the producers brought you in just to fake your death?" asked Alex.

She sat in between her brothers on the couch as Gerard sat across from them.

"Yep. They wanted the actors to be really immersed in their roles."

Gerard took a small sip from his coffee mug.

"What about the ghost Tara saw?" asked Sam.

"Projection," answered Gerard.

"Well, thanks for all your help. We're certainly glad you're alive," said Dean.

Gerard nodded and walked them out of his house.

The next morning, Dean stood behind the scenes of the movie with a headset on and a plate of food in his hands. He listened as Tara spoke to the film's director.

"I mean, why would a ghost be afraid of salt?" she asked.

Dean smirked knowingly and took a bite out of the taquito on his plate.

"What else would ghosts be scared of?" asked the director.

"Shotguns," suggested one producer.

"That makes less sense than salt," said the director.

Dean watched as Walter, one of the many people on set, threw up his hands in frustration at the conversation.

"These people are idiots," he said, brushing past Dean.

Sam and Alex walked up to Dean then.

"How's it going?" asked Sam.

"Great! Want a taquito? They're wonderful."

Dean took a bite out of the one he was already holding.

"No," said Alex.

"But listen, we conned our way into the morgue," said Sam, dropping his voice to a low whisper and looking around at all of the people who surrounded the three of them.

"The news was right. Brad's a doornail."

Dean nodded. "Follow me."

Dean walked them over to the soundboard, where he removed his headset and set it on the table.

"David, can you play them the thing you played me earlier?"

"Sure," said David.

He handed Sam and Alex each a headset and they slid them on, listening to the sound of a ghost.

"So who's the ghost? What's it want?" asked Sam. He walked with his siblings off of Stage 9's set and into a trailer beside the set.

"Don't know. That's why we're lookin' at Brad's death scene," said Dean. He knelt down and put a DVD into the DVD player while Sam and Alex took a seat on the couch in the trailer. Dean hit Play on the remote and the three of them stared at the screen intently. A few minutes into the film, Alex spoke.

"Go back."

Dean hit Rewind and hit Play again. He hit Pause once Alex told him to. A woman stood in the corner of the set, dressed all in white.

"A ghost. Like spirit photography," said Dean.

"I've seen her before," said Sam, standing up and walking out of the trailer.

"Here, check this out," said Sam. He handed an old newspaper article to Dean. Alex looked over Dean's shoulder to read the article.

"Elise Drummond. Starlet in the 30's. She had an affair with the studio exec. He uses her, then fires her, so Elise hangs herself from Studio 9's rafters during a shoot," said Sam.

"Sounds like Brad," said Alex.

"Brad's death matches hers exactly," said Dean.

Alex looked between her brothers. "We're diggin' tonight, aren't we?"

Sam nodded and Alex groaned.

Alex held a flashlight as they walked through the cemetery.

"What I don't get is why now? I mean, it's been 75 years and Elise Drummond suddenly goes homicidal. Why this movie?" asked Alex.

She snapped her bubblegum and smirked at Sam's glare.

"I don't know, but here we go," said Dean.

Sam nodded and the boys rolled up their sleeves, handed their flashlights to Alex, and began digging up the grave.

Once they had reached the coffin, Dean handed his shovel to Sam and opened the coffin's lid. He climbed out of the hole they had dug and watched as Sam poured on the salt and Alex poured the gasoline. Dean lit a match and threw it on top of the bones. The body caught on fire and all three of them watched it burn.

The next day, the siblings watched as crime scene investigators inspected the latest death that had happened on set late last night.

"Run in with a fan. Happened to an electrician back in '62," said Sam.

"It's not Elise's MO. What the hell?" asked Alex.

"So what are we dealin' with? Another ghost?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, but these things don't usually tag-team," said Alex.

Dean shrugged. They followed the crowd of people outside where the director was talking. Alex blew a bubble with her gum and then popped it out of boredom.

"Alex," warned Sam.

Alex smirked and did it again.

"Dammit, Alex. You're driving me insane."

Sam moved away from her and Alex just laughed.

A few hours later, the Winchester siblings were back in a trailer, sitting on the couch and watching the complete finished film.

"Did you find out where the electrician's buried?" asked Sam.

Dean opened the mini-fridge that sat in one corner of the trailer and pulled out a water bottle. "He was cremated."

"Great. Now what?" asked Alex.

Dean shrugged and sat next to Alex on the small couch as Sam played the movie once again.

"Maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie 'cause they think it sucks," said Sam.

Alex laughed and patted his knee.

"I mean, it kinda does."

The three of them sat in silence and after about five minutes of watching the awful film, Sam's eyebrows creased together as if he was deep in thought. He rewound the DVD and sat up, causing Alex to remove her hand that had been resting on his knee.

"Listen to the invocation," said Sam.

Alex and Dean sat up as well and listened closely.

"That's the real deal," said Alex.

"What the hell's that doing in a Hollywood movie?" asked Sam.

"I have no clue, but I think I know where to start asking questions," said Dean. He got up from the couch and Alex and Sam followed him.

Dean walked into Martin's office first, Sam and Alex right behind him. Martin was the writer of the film and he looked up from his paperwork as they entered.

"What are you still doing here? We shut down production."

"We just had to tell you we read the script," said Sam.

"It's pretty rockin', right?" asked Martin.

The three siblings nodded in agreement with Martin.

"I loved all of the detail. The rituals and spells," said Sam.

Martin's face fell. "You mean that Latin crap? No, that's Walter. Walter Dixon, the original writer."

"Walter, the P.A., Walter?" asked Dean.

"No, he's not a P.A. I had to rewrite his whole script because it was so full of bullshit," said Martin.

He reached behind him and pulled out a copy of the original script. He handed it to Sam. "That's all that Latin shit you wanted. Now, get out of here."

Back in the trailer, Dean flipped through the original script that Martin had just given them.

"Reads like a how-to manual for conjuration," said Sam.

"And he's pissed at these people for wrecking his movie," said Dean. He threw the script on the coffee table.

"Motive and means," said Alex. Suddenly, they heard a scream erupt from Stage 9. The three of them rushed out of the trailer with weapons in hand, heading for Stage 9.

Dean rushed into Stage 9 as a ghost was dragging Martin towards a huge fan. Dean pulled his shotgun up and shot at the ghost, causing him to disappear. The fan shut off then and Martin looked up at Dean.

"You are one hell of a P.A."

"Yeah, I know."

Dean held out his hand to Martin, who took it. Dean pulled him to his feet and watched him leave the building, never looking back. Dean caught up to Sam and Alex on the other side of the stage after Martin had left. He looked up the stairs and saw Walter at the top, looking down at the three of them.

"Making spirits murder for you? That's playing with fire, Walter," yelled Sam.

"You don't understand. You put your heart and soul into something and then, they take it!" yelled Walter, his forehead shining with sweat.

"Walter, it's just a movie," called out Alex.

"Look, I got nothin' against you three. Please, just leave. But Martin has to stay."

"No can do," said Dean.

"Then I'm really sorry," said Walter.

He held up a summoning necklace and began chanting, his eyes closing. Wind began to blow through the studio and three ghosts suddenly appeared a few feet from the three of them. Dean held up his shotgun, ready to shoot, as the ghosts approached. When the ghosts were only about a foot away, they disappeared. The three siblings looked around in confusion when Sam was suddenly thrown to the ground.

"C'mon, let's move!" yelled Dean. He helped Sam up and they ran into the house that was part of the film's set. Sam slammed the front door closed and pulled Alex into his chest to protect her. They turned to face the back of the house and saw that there was no back to the house. Dean loaded his shotgun and Alex stepped away from Sam, an idea forming in her mind. She pulled out her cell phone and pulled up her video recorder. She began to scan the room slowly.

"If film cameras can pick these things up…" She trailed off as a ghost appeared on the tiny little screen. She pointed to it.

"Dean, right there!"

Dean shot and it disappeared. "Got him."

She scanned the room again and saw a ghost in another corner of the house.

"There!"

Dean shot once again and that ghost also disappeared.

"Alright, keep doin' that. I'm gonna go after Walter," said Sam.

Alex nodded and stuck close to Dean's side as Sam left.

Sam was waiting on the roof of Stage 9 as Walter quickly ran up the stairs and stepped onto the roof.

"It's over, Walter. Now give it to me."

Walter shook his head and threw the talisman on the ground, where it shattered into a million tiny pieces. Sam's eyes widened.

"There. Now no one can have it."

"I wouldn't have done that if I were you."

"Oh, yeah? And why not?" asked Walter.

"Because you just freed them. We can't stop them now," answered Sam.

Dean and Alex ran onto the roof, panting as they took in the scene between Sam and Walter. They stood by the entrance door to the roof where they had entered from and looked at the smashed talisman.

"Walter, you were the one who brought them back. You forced them to murder. They are not gonna be very happy with you," finished Sam.

He stepped over to where his siblings stood and watched as Walter was thrown to the ground by an unseen force. Alex held up her phone and the three of them watched as the ghost literally ripped Walter apart. Walter's screams were useless as the ghosts went at it. Dean took the phone from Alex's hands and pulled her into his side. They turned away from the gruesome scene and left the roof, Walter's screams becoming smaller and quieter as they left.

A week later, the Winchesters had moved onto a new case in a new state. It was early in the morning as they began a new investigation. They were at a museum after hours and Sam slowly opened the side door to get inside. The boys let Alex inside first, knowing what was going to happen once they entered. Dean looked at Sam once Alex was safely ahead of them.

"We gotta do it, Sammy. She'll be safe and this is the only way we can solve our case."

Sam nodded, but felt a pang of guilt for not telling Alex what was going on. In reality, Sam and Dean were planning on getting arrested at the museum tonight because it was the only way they could solve this particular case. Alex had been sleeping when they had plotted out all the details and they didn't want her in harm's way. So, they followed her into the museum, knowing she would get out of there safely.

Dean walked in behind Alex, holding his flashlight. "This way."

The three of them walked into a room that displayed all kinds of old weapons. Sam and Dean were digging through the display cases when Alex heard a rustling in the hallway behind them. She stopped and turned, causing Dean and Sam to stop rifling through the cases and listen. The boys looked up at each other and Sam nodded to Dean.

"Lex, stay behind me," said Dean. He kissed her forehead and Alex looked confused.

"What the hell's going on?"

Sam pulled her close for a hug and kissed her temple. "Whatever you do, stay behind us. Promise me, okay?"

Alex looked into Sam's eyes. "I promise."

Sam nodded and pushed Alex behind him and Dean. They rounded a corner into the hallway that they had just come through and ran into two police officers. They turned to go back the way they had just come, but more officers blocked their path. Sam grabbed Alex's hand and squeezed it. Alex looked up at him, biting her lip. Sam nodded imperceptibly and gently let go of her hand. Alex took a deep breath and dropped to the floor just as Sam and Dean began attacking the officers. Alex crawled away from the ruckus, but an officer grabbed her by the ankle. She kicked him off and then kicked him in the groin. He fell to the ground and Alex quickly finished crawling to the door. She glanced at her brothers, who had their hands on their heads in surrender. Dean looked at her and mouthed one word: "Go." Alex sighed, but pushed open the door and ran to the Impala.

Dean sat in an interrogation room, the walls white and bland. He looked at the metal table that his hands were resting on and sighed. He looked up as two agents walked into the room. They stood across from Dean, the table in between them.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean. I'm Special Agent Henrickson, and this is my partner, Special Agent Reid," said the tall, black man.

"The Milwaukee agent, Henrickson?" asked Dean.

"Live and in person."

Dean's smirk faded and Henrickson pulled out a photo of Dean, taken by a security camera. He set it down on the table in front of Dean.

"You can hang that in your cell. Read him the charges," said Henrickson, his eyes never leaving Dean's face.

"We got mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration…" began Agent Reid, but Henrickson interrupted him.

"Skip to the good ones."

"Armed robbery, kidnapping, and three counts of first degree murder," finished Agent Reid. He closed the file folder he had been holding and looked at Dean.

"In Milwaukee, your brother is now a murder suspect himself. And your sister, too," said Henrickson.

He rested his hands on the table. "I nearly went nuts trying to find you three. And after all my searching, you and Sam get tripped up by a motion detector. But Alex got away. Again."

Dean smirked. "Well, she's a smart cookie."

"And a hot one. Damn, what I'd like to do…" began Agent Reid, but Dean stood up and glared at him.

"Talk about my sister like that again and I swear to all that is holy, I will not hesitate to hunt you down and kill you."

"Agent Reid, that was highly inappropriate," said Henrickson.

Reid nodded and remained silent. Dean sat down again, his eyes never looking away from Reid.

Dean looked up as Sam walked into the interrogation room. Agents Reid and Henrickson had left a few minutes before and Sam nodded at Dean, sitting beside him. A lawyer walked in after Sam, sitting across from the brothers at the metal table. She set her briefcase down on the shiny tabletop and opened it, pulling out a multitude of papers. Once she was finished, she looked at the two of them.

"Unfortunately, your arraignment isn't until Tuesday. And since no judge in his right mind is going to grant you bail, you'll be staying in the county jail," she explained.

"Yeah, we figured that," said Dean.

"Extradition papers have been filed in five different states. Missouri, Wisconsin, being the biggest concern."

"How long can we stall extradition?" asked Sam.

"A week. Maybe less," answered the lawyer.

Dean nodded. The lawyer smiled sadly at the two of them and set her papers back in her briefcase. She closed it and stood up.

"You have a visitor," she said, winking at them before leaving the room.

A second later, a skinny brunette with dark sunglasses perched on her face entered the room. She smiled at the lawyer as she left and handed her a $100 bill. Dean smirked as Alex removed her brown wig and her sunglasses. Sam shook his head.

"Alex, there are cameras all over this place!"

"Relax, Sammy. I paid off the lawyer to distract the camera guys and play a repeating loop of the two of you just sitting in here. How stupid do you think I am?"

Sam held up his hands in apology. "Sorry, sis."

Alex smiled and walked over to their side of the table. She hugged Dean tight and he kissed her temple. She hugged Sam next and then returned to her seat across from them.

"Guys, this has to be the dumbest, craziest thing you've ever done. And that's in a long storied career of dumb and crazy," said Alex.

"Calm down. It's part of the plan," said Dean.

Alex scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Really? Henrickson showing up was in the plan?"

"Yeah, the guy moves a little faster than we thought. But all Sam and I gotta do is find the ghost and put it down. We'll be fine."

Alex sighed. "Just remember that you're doing this for Deacon, okay? He was Dad's friend and we owe him," said Alex.

Dean nodded and Alex stood up, putting her wig and sunglasses back on.

"Alright. Stay safe," she warned.

She hugged them one last time and Sam kissed her forehead.

"Love you, baby sis."

"Love you," said Alex, making her way out of the room and standing at the end of the hall, watching, as Sam and Dean were escorted out of the room and onto a bus, headed for the county jail.

Sam pushed his tray of prison food over to Dean.

"Here. Finish mine."

Dean nodded and stuffed the food into his mouth.

"Okay. Let's go over this again," said Sam. "Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?"

"Right. Psycho killer extraordinaire. Satanism, died in jail," said Dean.

"He died of a heart attack, which is exactly what the victims in here are dying of. He died in the old cellblock, which they closed after he croaked about 30 years ago. They just opened that back up when the killings started," explained Dean.

He took another bite of his food.

"So you think the spirit was released somehow?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded, throwing his fork down on his tray.

"I'm done."

He stood up and turned, bumping into another inmate. The inmate snarled and brought his fist back to hit Dean. Dean ducked and hit the man in the stomach.

"Hey!" shouted a prison guard.

Dean stopped punching the man and the guard grabbed him.

"Solitary."

Dean sat in his solitary cell, sitting down and leaning against the wall.

"I wish I had a baseball," said Dean, hoping the other inmate in the cell across the hall would respond.

"Well, I wish I had a bat so I could bash your freakin' head in!" yelled the man.

"Okay. So much for bonding in solitary moment," said Dean. He rested his head behind him on the wall as the lights began to flicker. Dean sat up and saw his breath, as it suddenly got colder in the room.

"Oh, shit."

The lights flickered again and Dean looked out into the wall through a small slot in the door. He watched as the clock on the wall stopped moving completely. Dean's eyes widened.

"Lucas. Listen to me. Stay very still."

Dean listened for a response and a few seconds later, he heard screaming from Lucas.

"Fuck!" yelled Dean.

Alex looked at the T.V. in her motel room, which was playing some awful made for T.V. movie. She glanced at the papers scattered on the table, and sighed as she wished she had company. Suddenly, a knock sounded on her door. She walked over carefully and smiled as she pulled back the curtain to see who was outside. She quickly opened the door and jumped into Kellan's arms.

"Hey, baby," he said.

He carried her inside the motel room, kicking the door shut. She got out of his arms and lay on her bed. She patted the space beside her and Kellan kicked off his boots, lying beside her. She grabbed his left hand and their fingers intertwined as he began stroking her hair with his free hand.

"I'm so worried about Sam and Dean," said Alex.

"I know, babe."

Alex sat up then and looked at him, her eyes pleading.

"Stay the night? Please, I can't be alone."

Kellan sat up as well and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Of course."

Alex smiled and kissed him gently. Kellan reached over and turned off the lamp beside her bed, and they were asleep within minutes.

That same night, Sam was stuck mopping floors with another fellow inmate.

"How you doin'?" asked Sam, trying to have a polite conversation.

"I'm 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How do you think I'm doin'?"

Sam laughed, nodding.

"I'm Sam."

"Randall."

"Nice to meet yo- Randall?"

Sam stopped his actions and turned to the man.

"Hey. Weren't you there the night that guard died?"

Randall never stopped mopping and never looked at Sam.

"Yeah."

"Well, what happened?"

"They say the stress of the job got him."

"What do you say?" asked Sam.

The man ignored Sam's question and asked one of his own.

"Why you in here, kid?"

"I got an idiot for a brother," said Sam.

"Yep, that'll do it. But this place is The Hilton compared to the old cellblock."

"You spent time in the old block?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Didn't Mark Moody spend time over there?" asked Sam.

"He was there. You know, I was there too, the night that lunatic bit it."

"Heart attack, right?"

"Sure, his heart stopped right after the guards stopped using his head for batting practice," said Randall.

Sam's jaw dropped, but he quickly closed it and went back to his job of mopping.

"So he was beaten and nobody reported it?" asked Sam.

"You kept your mouth shut unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, you know?"

Randall continued his mopping as Sam stood still once again.

"Randall, exactly how much blood was there?"

A few minutes later, Sam stood next to a table as Dean beat an inmate at poker. The man stood up after losing and Sam took his vacated seat.

"Look, I got a good lead on Moody," whispered Sam.

"Yeah, me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night," said Dean.

"What?"

"Clock stopped. Flickering lights, turned cold. He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky," said Dean.

"So I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell," said Sam.

"Blood? I thought it was a heart attack."

"Nope. It was, after the guards beat him."

"How we gonna get in?" asked Dean.

"I got a plan. But how are we gonna burn something once we find it? We don't have any accelerant," said Sam.

"I got it covered," said Dean.

He stood up, and Sam quickly followed him out of the room.

Sam stood against the wall in the cafeteria as Dean provoked a huge, mean inmate. The inmate punched Dean in the face. All of the guards in the cafeteria rushed over to the fight and Sam snuck into the now empty kitchen. He grabbed a small saltshaker and opened the air vent. He climbed inside, just barely fitting.

"Fuck, I wish Alex was here," he whispered.

He climbed out of the vent once he reached the old cellblock. He stepped into the cell and found the dried blood on an old mattress. He poured the salt and the oil Dean had given him on the mattress and threw a match on top of it all.

The next morning, Dean sat on his bed in the infirmary.

"Hey, Tiny," he called out.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about the things I was sayin' earlier. I can't really tell you why, but I had to get you angry. So, uh, sorry," said Dean.

"It's okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues. My old man treated me and my older brother like crap right up till the day he died."

"How'd he die?"

"My brother shot him," said Tiny.

Dean raised his eyebrows and glanced at the door. His eyes widened as he saw a scary, crazed looking woman with blood-shot eyes standing there.

"Oh, fuck," muttered Dean, standing up.

"What is it?" asked Tiny.

The woman moved towards Dean and Dean grabbed the saltshaker off of his lunch tray. The woman entered his cell, walking straight through the door, proving she was a ghost. She put her hand on Dean's chest, right above his heart and Dean threw a handful of salt at her. She disappeared then and Dean quickly looked around for her. Suddenly, he heard Tiny screaming.

"Tiny!"

Dean banged on the cell's door.

"Guard!"

The next day, Sam and Dean were walking around in the prison's courtyard discussing the woman ghost that had killed Tiny.

"So you're telling me it wasn't Moody," said Sam, kicking a pebble with the toe of his ugly prison shoes.

"Not unless he's goin' around dressed like a nurse," said Dean.

"So this is the ghost of some nurse who worked here or somethin'?" asked Sam.

"I guess, man. But poor Tiny," said Dean.

"'I guess' isn't workin' for me, Dean. I called Deacon and we're getting out tonight, man."

"I guess we better do some quick research then."

"How? Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're in jail, Dean."

Dean nodded, his eyebrows pulled together in thought.

"Winchesters," called a guard from the door.

The boys turned towards the guard and the guard motioned them toward him.

"Visitor."

Sam and Dean walked inside.

Dean smirked as Alex walked up to them in yet another disguise. She had on a black wig this time. She sat down across from them at the metal table they were stationed at.

"So it's not Moody, huh?" asked Alex.

Dean nodded.

"It's a nurse, right? White hair, one screwed up eye? Ringin' any bells?"

Dean's smile beamed as Sam smirked, shaking his head.

"God, I fuckin' love you, sis," said Dean.

Alex smiled.

"I know. Anyway, her name was Nurse Glockner. Nasty old bitch worked her in the 70's. Apparently, guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold and come out in body bags. Whole rash of heart attacks. Young guys, old guys."

"Heart attacks?" asked Sam.

"Story was Glockner had it out for cons and she did this Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic. No one ever proved anything," said Alex.

"What happened to her?" asked Dean.

"I don't know that one. Sorry."

Alex stood up and the boys hugged her.

"See you around," said Alex, winking and walking away.

In the visitor's center, Dean was sitting across from his lawyer, a partition of glass separating them. He talked to her through the phone.

"Her name was Glockner. She was a nurse here in the 70's. I need you to find out everything you can about her, but most importantly, how she died and where she's buried," said Dean.

His lawyer looked at him, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Please. Just trust me on this," pleaded Dean.

That night, Sam and Dean stood in the middle of the empty prison cafeteria as the head security guard looked at them.

"Sam. Dean."

"Deacon," said Dean.

Deacon smiled at them.

"So. Is it over?"

"No. Turns out it wasn't Moody," said Sam.

"What? Then who?" asked Deacon.

"We think it's an old nurse who used to work here."

Deacon nodded and took an envelope out of his pocket.

"Guys, your lawyer left this for you. Maybe it'll help you destroy this bitch," said Deacon.

He handed Dean the envelope and Dean opened it, silently reading the letter and then looking at Sam and Deacon.

"Glockner died in the old cell block right after Moody bit it. Seems they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle. An inmate dragged her to a solitary cell and gave her a severe cerebral edema."

"Say where she's buried?" asked Sam.

"Yep," said Dean.

He folded up the letter and stuck it in his pocket.

"I can't thank you boys enough. Your daddy raised you and your sister right," said Deacon.

He hugged them both and opened a compartment in the wall that led to the outside world.

"Now hurry. I'll sound the alarm in about five minutes. Get outta here," said Deacon.

He watched Sam, then Dean, climb into the small compartment and then he closed it behind them as they crawled to freedom.

Sam and Dean smiled as they crawled out of the side of the building and saw Alex leaning against the hood of the Impala. She stood up straight and smiled back at them.

"Oh, baby. I missed you," said Dean.

He bypassed Alex and touched the hood of his beloved car.

"Nice to see you too, bro," said Alex, rolling her eyes.

Sam laughed and pulled Alex into a huge hug.

"Alright, let's go. We're not out of the woods yet," said Dean.

He started up the car and they headed for the cemetery.

Dean slammed the Impala's trunk closed and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder.

"We better hurry. Lawyer lady's gonna talk," said Alex.

Dean cursed and walked faster through the cemetery.

Sam had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he dug up the grave of Nurse Glockner. Once he was finished digging, he jumped out of the hole he had just dug and watched as Alex poured gasoline and salt onto the dead body. Dean threw a lit match onto the body and it burst into flames. The three of them watched it burn.

Sam carried Alex on his back as they walked back to the Impala through the cemetery. Her arms were around his neck and her legs were hitched on either side of his waist. He was holding her thighs.

"Well, it looks like your lawyer came through," said Alex.

"Yep. I'm quite the smooth talker," said Dean.

Alex rolled her eyes and Sam set her down on the pavement as they reached the Impala. Alex kissed his cheek and the three of them threw their bags in the trunk, climbing in the car and heading to the next job they could find.

Dean was driving down the road, his radio blasting with classic rock and his head bobbed along with the music. His cell phone rang and he flipped it open.

"Did you and Alex get checked in to the motel?" asked Dean, skipping the greeting once he saw that Sam was the one calling.

"Yes, but there's a cop car outside," said Sam.

Sam stood looking out the window of their motel room as Alex stood behind him glancing at the cop car outside. Books were spread out on the table in the room.

"They there for us?" asked Dean, turning his music down in the car.

"I don't know, man."

Sam sighed in relief as the cop car pulled away and drove off.

"False alarm."

Sam sat down at the table and Alex sat beside him.

"Got anything yet?" asked Sam, still holding the phone to his ear.

"How can I? You've got me in the middle of nowhere."

"That's where all the victims went missing, Dean. I'm pretty sure we're hunting a djinn," said Sam.

"A fuckin' genie?" laughed Dean.

"Oh my God." Sam sighed. "Come pick Alex and me up so we can go check locations together," said Sam.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Stay safe," said Dean, hanging up and cranking the music back up as he stepped on the gas pedal.

Dean walked into the huge, old warehouse with a knife dangling in his right hand. He held a flashlight in his left hand and tightened his grip on the knife as he rounded the corner into another long hallway. Dean carefully walked down the hallway, looking for signs of life. Suddenly, a man jumped out from the shadows, pinning Dean into the wall. He had tattoos covering every inch of his visible skin and one of his hands held Dean by his throat while the other hand emitted a blue glow. He put the glowing hand on Dean's forehead and Dean fell unconscious.

The crack of thunder awoke Dean from his sleep. Dean sat up in his bed, looking over at the TV that was still on. The volume was muted, but an old scary movie was still playing, but Dean was looking at the woman lying beside him in bed. She was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily as she slept. Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got dressed, putting his cell phone that rested on top of his dresser in his pants pocket before heading down the stairs.

Dean walked into his living room, flipping the light switch up to bathe the room in a light glow. He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam's number.

A very tired sounding voice answered. "Dean?"

"Sam."

"Dean, what's goin' on?" asked Sam, sounding a little more awake as he realized what time it was and how urgent Dean's call must be to call him so early.

"I don't know. I don't know where I am, man."

"What happened?" asked Sam.

"The djinn, uh, attacked me," explained Dean, a little embarrassed.

"The djinn? You're drinking gin?"

"No, asshole, the djinn. The scary creature, remember? He put his hand on me and then I woke up next to some hot chick," said Dean, pacing his living room.

"You mean Carmen? Look, you're drunk. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Sam hung up and Dean sighed. He flipped his phone shut and set it on the nearest end table. He picked up the mail that was sitting on the table.

"Lawrence?" questioned Dean, looking at the return address on the envelopes.

"Honey?"

Dean looked up from the pile of mail in his hands as the woman from his bed strode over to him, wearing her robe and looking concerned.

"What are you doin' up?" she asked.

"Hey, Carmen. I, uh, can't sleep," said Dean.

Dean set the mail back down on the end table and Carmen smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well, I'm sure I can help with that."

She smiled and Dean's eyebrows rose.

"Uh, sure. You go ahead, I'll meet you up there," said Dean.

Carmen nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before turning away and walking back upstairs. Once she was gone, Dean walked over to the bookshelves that lined the left side of the living room. He looked at all of the photos in frames resting there. They were all of him and Carmen smiling, a perfectly normal, happy couple. Dean smiled as he glanced at all of the other photos. He picked up another frame, his smile quickly fading as he stared at the picture. He dropped the frame on the ground, the glass shattering, as he rushed toward the front door and outside to his car.

Dean threw the Impala into park and stepped out of the car. He jogged up the front porch steps of the house and banged on the front door. He rang the doorbell twice and watched as the front door opened.

"Dean," said the woman who opened the door.

"Mom," said Dean.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

Dean said nothing, just stared at her face.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know," whispered Dean.

Mary Winchester sighed, but grabbed her oldest son's arm and pulled him inside his childhood home, where she still lived. She shut the door once they were both safely inside the home.

"Carmen called and said you took off all of a sudden," said Mary, walking into the living room.

"Carmen. Right. Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you always tell me before you put me to bed?" asked Dean, staring at his mom.

"I told you angels were watching over you," answered Mary.

Dean crossed across the room and wrapped his mother into a huge hug. She hugged him back, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I'm so happy to see you," said Dean.

He released his mother and walked over to the bookshelves, looking at the framed photos lining them.

"Was there ever a fire here when I was young?" asked Dean.

"No," said Mary.

"Hmm, I thought there was. Guess I was wrong."

Dean picked up a picture of his dad playing softball. Mary stood beside him and glanced at the picture he was holding and laughed softly and gently.

"Your father loved that stupid team."

She looked up at him sadly.

"Dad's dead?" asked Dean.

Mary looked at him, confused.

"Honey, he had a stroke. He died in his sleep, you know that."

Dean nodded and set the framed photo back on the shelf. He turned to his mother.

"Mom, I wanna stay here tonight. I miss the place," said Dean.

He sat on the couch and Mary gently touched his cheek.

"You sure you're okay?"

Dean nodded and closed his eyes as his mother kissed his forehead. She patted his shoulder and Dean turned to watch her leave the room. She stopped in the doorway and smiled at him.

"Get some rest. I love you."

"Me too," said Dean.

He watched his mother climb up the stairs before he laid back on the couch and closed his eyes to catch some sleep.

The next morning, Dean was opening the Impala's trunk to look for hunting weapons. He smirked when he opened the trunk and saw no guns. He slammed the trunk closed and glanced across the street. A girl stood on the sidewalk, staring directly at him. She wore a long, flowing white gown. Dean began crossing the street to get to her when a car horn blared from down the street. Dean was startled and got out of the middle of the road so the car could pass him. When Dean looked up again, the girl was gone. Dean shook his head and headed back into his childhood home.

Dean was sitting on the front porch steps when a blue Ford Fusion pulled up to the house. Dean stood up as Sam and Jessica got out of the car. Dean quickly ran over to them, reaching Jessica first. He pulled her into a huge hug.

"Good to see you, Dean," she said, awkwardly patting his back.

Dean finally let go of her and turned to Sam.

"So where'd you guys come from?" he asked Sam.

"We just flew in. From California," said Sam.

"Stanford!" exclaimed Dean, throwing his arms up in excitement.

Sam forced a smile on his face and motioned to the opened beer Dean was holding in his hand.

"See you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual."

Dean's enthusiastic smile quickly faded.

"Wait. That's today?"

"Uh, yeah, Dean. That's why we're here. Don't tell me you forgot," said Sam sadly.

Dean was saved from answering when another car pulled up and parked behind Sam's Fusion. Alex stepped out of the car, followed by Kellan, who was holding a toddler in his arms. When they were safely on the driveway, Kellan set the little boy down.

"Alright, buddy. Go tell Grandma Happy Birthday."

The little boy ran into the house, his squeals of excitement echoing across the front lawn. All of them smiled as they watched him run into the house and Alex and Kellan joined the circle of adults in the driveway.

"Alex," said Dean, looking at his youngest sibling.

He pulled her close and pulled her into a tight hug. Alex looked at Sam, who stood behind Dean, but Sam just shrugged. Dean finally let her go after a few minutes and he shook Kellan's hand firmly.

"So that little boy was…" Dean trailed off, waiting for someone to answer him.

"Um, your nephew. John Andrew McCarthy," said Alex, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion at Dean's strange behavior and questions.

Dean nodded, trying to play it off.

"I knew that."

Alex shook her head and raised her eyebrows.

"Alright, this is strange," she whispered under her breath.

"C'mon, let's go say hey to Mom," said Sam.

He followed Jessica inside, Alex right behind him with Kellan's hand firmly in hers. Dean finished out the gang, shutting the front door as he entered the house.

That night, at dinner, Alex squealed in delight as she saw the engagement ring on Jessica's finger.

"You're engaged?" she asked.

Jessica nodded, a huge breathtaking smile on her face. Mary stood up, walking around the table to hug her son and Jessica. Dean shook Sam's hand.

"I'm so glad you're happy," said Dean.

He looked past Sam's shoulder for a split second and saw the girl from earlier in the day, but she was now wearing a gray dress that was dirty and torn. She looked beaten, bloody, bruised, and abused. Dean abruptly stood up, his entire family watching him, confused, He moved through the restaurant crowd toward the girl, but she was gone when he finally got to where she had been previously standing. He turned back around, distraught, to see his whole entire family staring at him.

An hour or so later, the women entered the house, laughing amongst themselves. Sam pulled Dean aside into the dining room as everyone else walked into the living room.

"What the hell was that back at the restaurant?"

"Oh, I, uh, thought I saw someone. It was nothing," lied Dean.

Sam nodded, unconvinced, and they turned, walking into the living room where everyone else was already sitting.

"I had a lovely birthday. Thank you," said Mary.

They all smiled and Mary walked upstairs to go to sleep.

Alex turned to Kellan.

"Honey, I need to talk to my brothers real quick. Can you get John and take him to the car please?" asked Alex.

Kellan nodded and stood up. He leaned down to give Alex a quick kiss before jogging up the stairs to get his son from the guest bedroom where he was sleeping. Sam kissed Jessica, who still sat in the living room, as the three siblings walked into the kitchen to talk.

"Dean, what's gotten into you?" asked Sam, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest.

"Um, what do you mean?" asked Dean.

"We mean this whole warm and fuzzy thing," said Alex.

"I'm just happy for Sammy," explained Dean, smiling.

"Since when do you call me Sammy? Dean, we don't talk outside of holidays. When you called me a few days ago at two in the morning, I thought you were dying. The last time someone called me that early was when Alex was in labor," said Sam.

"Well, we should talk more often than holidays and births. You're my siblings, my brother and sister."

"You know, that's what you said when you stole my ATM card," said Sam, his eyes cold.

"Or bailed on my son's birth," added in Alex.

Dean sighed.

"I'm sorry," said Dean.

"Look, we're not asking you to change. We just don't have things in common," said Sam.

Alex nodded and she and Sam moved past Dean to leave the room. Dean watched them walk out the front door, Sam with Jessica in tow. Once they had all left and were gone, Dean sat on the couch, his head in his hands.

Later that night, Carmen was asleep in their room while Dean was sitting on the couch in their apartment. He held a beer in his hand and the television remote in his other hand as he flipped through the channels. He stopped on the news to take a sip from his beer and glanced at the headlines. He turned the volume up, set his beer down on the coffee table, and leaned forward, listening intently.

"And today marks the anniversary of the United Britannia Flight 424 crash last year. A candlelight vigil was held in an Indiana town…"

"Oh, no. We stopped that crash," whispered Dean.

Dean pulled his laptop onto the kitchen table and read about the plane crash. He also read about every single job that he thought that he and his siblings had completed. The jobs were never done. Every person they had ever saved was gone because no one had ever been there to save them. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, slamming the laptop closed.

The next morning, Dean stood in front of his father's grave at the cemetery.

"All of them. Everyone that you saved, everyone that Sammy, Alex, and I saved. They're all dead. And there's this woman haunting me. I don't know why, I don't know the connection yet. It's like my old life is comin' after me or somethin' like that. But why is it my job to save these people? What about us?"

The tears rolled down Dean's face as he stared at his father's engraved tombstone. He stood there for quite a while before wiping away his tears and leaving the cemetery.

That night, Alex heard a slight rustling in the kitchen that woke her up. She sat straight up in bed, glancing at her alarm clock on her bedside table. It read 12:45 AM. She then glanced at her husband, Kellan. He was sound asleep, facing away from her. His muscular back was turned towards Alex, the covers only covering his bottom half. Alex sighed, kissed his cheek gently so as not to wake him, and climbed out of bed, heading towards the kitchen.

Alex walked down the stairs and flipped on the kitchen light to see Dean digging through the drawer full of silver knifes, forks, and spoons.

"Dean, why are you rummaging through the silver?" asked Alex, leaning against the kitchen doorway with her eyebrows raised and her arms crossed across her chest.

Dean whirled around to face his youngest sibling, looking at her skeptical facial expression.

"Honestly? I need money. I lost a game of poker," answered Dean.

Alex rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how we're related. I can't believe we're even related."

"Alex, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we don't get along and I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People's lives depend on it."

He grabbed a few silver knifes from the silverware drawer.

"What are you talking about, Dean?"

"Nothin'. Just, uh, tell Mom I love her."

Alex's face looked very confused as Dean kissed her forehead gently and walked past her to the front door.

"And kiss my nephew for me."

Alex watched as her oldest sibling walked out her front door before sighing. She trudged up the stairs, checked on her still sleeping son, called Sam, and got dressed.

Dean watched as Sam pulled up to Alex's house. Sam climbed out of his car and walked slowly over to the Impala, where Dean sat. He climbed in the passenger seat after Dean had unlocked the door. Alex finally walked over to them from her house's front porch, where she had been sitting and waiting for Sam to arrive.

"Get out of here. Both of you," said Dean.

"Nope. We're going with you," said Sam.

"You're just gonna slow me down."

"Tough luck," said Alex, opening Sam's door and climbing into the backseat of the Impala.

"This is dangerous and you both could get hurt," said Dean.

"So could you, Dean."

"I don't understand. Why are you doing this?" asked Dean, looking at his siblings.

"'Cause you're still our brother," said Sam.

Dean stared at him for a little while before putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.

A few minutes into their drive, Alex grabbed the brown paper bag that was resting beside Dean and she pulled out a container of blood.

"Dean, why do you have blood?" asked Alex.

"You don't really wanna know," answered Dean.

"No, I really, really wanna know," said Sam.

Dean sighed.

"I needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood to hunt this thing called a djinn," explained Dean.

Alex placed the container of blood back into the brown paper bag and set it back down beside Dean.

"Thanks."

Alex held onto Sam's hand as they walked slowly through an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Dean was obviously leading the way while Sam and Alex trailed behind him.

"There's nothin' here, Dean," said Sam.

Suddenly, they all stopped talking when they heard what sounded like crying coming from a few rooms away.

"What the hell was that?" asked Sam.

"Be quiet and keep your mouths shut," said Dean.

The three of them walked around the corner and saw two skeletons hanging by their wrists from somewhere above them. They were drained of blood and Dean looked over to see the girl that had been haunting him recently shackled up the same way the skeletons were hanging except she was still alive, but just barely.

"Dean, what the hell is going on here?" asked Sam.

They all quickly hid behind a wall as they heard someone entering the room from around the corner. The djinn appeared and touched the young girl, who was still hanging from the ceiling. She fell back asleep and the djinn creature drank some more of her blood as she slept. Once he was finished, he climbed up a set of stairs and entered a small office a few feet above the siblings and the girl.

"The djinn doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it does," whispered Dean, still hiding behind the wall with Sam and Alex.

"Dean, please. Let's just go," pleaded Alex.

"What if this is me? What if this is all in my head?" asked Dean, standing up as he came to the realization that his life right now was no longer his reality.

Dean pulled out his silver knife, getting ready to stab himself when Sam yelled at him.

"Wait!"

Dean watched as his whole entire family walked up to him. His mom, Carmen, Jessica, Kellan, and his nephew, John. They all gently smiled at him.

"You're not real," whispered Dean, his eyes filling up with tears as he stared at all of them.

"Give me the knife," said Alex, holding her hand out with her palm up.

"I'm sorry," said Dean.

He stabbed himself right in the middle of his abdomen.

"Dean!" yelled Alex.

Dean's eyes slowly opened. He was strung up from the ceiling, his face and body pale from blood loss.

"Oh, thank God. I thought I lost you for a second," said Alex.

"You almost did," croaked out Dean, his throat dry.

He winced as she pulled the IV needle out from his neck and threw it down on the dirt-covered floor. She reached up to cut him down from his bindings when the djinn came out from the shadows to attack them both. Sam charged at the creature from the left side as Alex began frantically cutting Dean free. The djinn had Sam by the throat when Alex suddenly grabbed silver knife dipped in lamb's blood and stabbed the djinn right in the middle of its back. The djinn fell to the floor, dead. Dean sat down beside it, sighing.

Dean was sitting on one of the motel room beds as Sam got off of his cell phone. Alex sat next to Dean as Sam approached them.

"The girl's stabilized," said Sam, referring to the girl that they had rescued from the djinn's lair. Dean nodded.

"You should've seen our lives. Alex, you had a son," said Dean.

"Really? Was he cute?" asked Alex.

"Adorable. And Sam, you were a pussy. We didn't get along."

Sam nodded, smirking.

"Well, I'm glad we do. And I'm glad you dug yourself out, Dean," said Sam.

"Yeah. I wanted to stay. So badly," said Dean.

"But we save lives everyday. And we do it together," said Alex.

Dean smiled.

"Yeah. We do."

Sam smiled as well and Alex kissed Dean's cheek as they all sat together, one happy, but somewhat dysfunctional family.