December 18th, 2008 - Bedford, Iowa
"Alright, what should we put on?" Dean asked Amy.
Amy looked at the selection of songs in the jukebox that stood in front of her at the diner. They had recently finished a case involving a siren and had stopped to get something to eat on their way out of town.
"I don't know," Amy replied.
"Oh come on," Dean urged. "Pick anything."
"Okay." Amy pushed the button for the song 'Ramble On' by Led Zeppelin.
Dean nodded in approval. "Nice choice."
They walked back over to the table Sam was sitting at. He was getting off the phone with Bobby when they approached.
"No, no, no, you're right, it's definitely weird," Sam was saying. He nodded as Amy and Dean sat down. "Okay, Bobby, thanks." Sam finished his call and put his phone away.
"What's up?" Dean asked.
Sam started typing something on his computer. "Bobby found something in Wyoming," he informed them.
"A job?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Small town, no one's died in the past week and a half."
"What's so weird about that?" Amy asked.
"Well, it's how they're not dying," Sam explained. "One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice. Another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch."
"Capped in the ass?" Dean asked.
Sam spun his laptop around so Dean and Amy could see the screen. He had an article open with a headline that read 'Shooting victim walks away unharmed' and had a subheading that read 'Man miraculously survives after direct shot to heart'.
"Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter," Sam explained.
"And he's not a doughnut?" Dean asked, his mouth full of the burger he had been eating.
"Locals are saying it's a miracle."
Amy scoffed. "That is some miracle."
"It's got to be something nasty, right?" Sam asked. "I mean people making deals or something."
Dean seemed to consider this. "You think?"
"A whole town, though?" Amy asked.
"What else would it be?" Sam asked.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know."
Sam nodded. "All right." He put his laptop in his bag and then pointed at Dean's burger. "Get that to go."
Dean looked down at the burger but didn't move.
"Come on." Sam urged. He picked up his bag and Amy stood up, ready to follow them out of the diner.
Dean stayed seated, choosing to only pick up his burger and take another bite.
"What?" Sam asked, swinging his bag over his shoulder.
Dean glanced away. "Sure you want me going with you?"
Sam looked confused. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't want to be holding you back or nothing," Dean questioned.
"Dean..." Amy muttered. While under the influence of the siren during their last case, Sam had told Dean and Amy that they were too weak. That he was a better hunter than the two of them combined. Amy had forgiven Sam, knowing he was only under the influence of a spell, but Dean hadn't been too quick to do the same.
Sam groaned. "Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me."
Dean took another bite of his burger, not replying.
"Can we get past this?" Sam asked.
Dean put the burger down and brushed off his hands. "Yeah, we're past it," he said as he stood up and walked out the door.
Sam and Amy exchanged a glance, before following Dean to the Impala.
December 19th, 2008 - Greybull, Wyoming
They reached Jim Jenkins' house early the next afternoon.
"So, what's our cover?" Dean asked.
"Bloggers?" Sam suggested. "We could tell him we want to write a story about what happened to him."
"Sounds believable enough," Amy added.
Dean nodded. "Alright, let's get going."
Sam grabbed a small notepad and a pen, and the hunters got out of the car. Dean led the way up to the front door and rang the doorbell.
A minute later, the door opened and a man appeared at the door. "Yes?"
"Good afternoon," Sam greeted. "Are you Jim Jenkins?"
Jim nodded. "Yes. And you are?"
"We work on a blog site," Dean stated. "We heard what happened and wanted to get your story if that was okay."
Jim looked between the three hunters briefly, before he finally nodded and stepped to the side. "Come on in."
Amy followed Sam and Dean into the house. Jim led them into the kitchen and sat down at the dining room table. Sam, Dean, and Amy took a seat across from him.
"Now, you three said you were bloggers?" Jim asked
Sam nodded. "Yes, sir. Floored by the Lord dot com."
Dean smiled. "All of God's glory fit to blog," he added.
Amy discreetly rolled her eyes before turning to Jim. "People around town are saying it's a miracle what happened to you."
Jim nodded. "It was. Plain as day."
"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked.
"How else do you explain it?" Jim asked. "The doctors can't." He leaned forward. "There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston."
"Well, how do you explain it?" Dean questioned.
Jim hesitated for a moment. He looked over at a little girl who was playing in the living room behind him, before turning back to the hunters. "Look, honestly." Jim let out a sigh. "I was nobody's saint—not exactly father of the year, either."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop?" Jim continued. "I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance."
"That so?" Dean asked in an accusatory tone.
"I had this feeling," Jim said, "like angels were watching over me." Jim paused for a moment, before waving a hand and leaning back in his chair. "I wouldn't expect you guys to understand."
Dean smiled. "Well, we'll just have to try."
"You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked.
"No," Jim replied, clearly confused.
"Have you ever met someone with red or black eyes?" Amy asked.
Jim leaned forward again. "Who'd you guys say you were again?"
The hunters exchanged a quick glance.
"Never mind," Dean said as he stood up. "Thank you for your time."
Dean quickly made his way out of the house, Sam and Amy right on his heel.
"That was close," Dean said as he pulled the Impala away from the house.
"But it begs the question," Sam replied, "if Jim didn't make a deal, then what the hell is going on around here?"
Dean drove them back to the motel. Sam took the Impala to talk to the cancer survivor while Amy and Dean tried to find who the last person to die was.
Amy paced around the room while Dean read the town obituary on his laptop.
"Okay, here," Dean said, getting her attention.
Amy leaned over Dean's chair. "What up?"
"Cole Griffith." Dean pointed to a picture of a kid who looked no older than eleven or twelve. "He died ten days ago. Last death I could find."
"So, what the hell is going on around here?" Amy asked.
Dean shrugged. "Miracles?"
Amy scoffed. "I doubt it."
"Well, there's no sign of a deal," Dean pointed out. "No faith healers. What else could it be?"
Amy thought for a moment. She paced back and forth in front of the beds.
"No demon deals, no faith healers," she said, "and nobody is dying." She turned back to Dean. "When you die, that's when a reaper comes in and takes your soul, right?"
Dean nodded and leaned forward. "Right."
"What if this town doesn't have one?" Amy asked.
"Okay, you lost me."
"I'm saying, what if something happened to the local reaper and they're not around anymore."
"What, like a strike?" Dean asked.
"Or something worse," Amy added. "I doubt an entire town of people made demon deals. So, either everyone has just gotten super lucky all of a sudden, or there's just simply no reaper around."
Dean pondered this for a moment. "You might be onto something there," he finally said. "Sam should be back at any moment. Let's see what he says about all this when he gets back."
Amy watched TV while Dean did some more digging on his laptop. It wasn't until late that night until Sam finally returned.
"Hey," Sam greeted.
Dean looked up from his laptop. "Anything?"
Amy walked over as Sam sat at the table.
"That cancer survivor?" Sam began. "He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he's taking her out for their twentieth anniversary."
"Any sign of a deal?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head. "No. What about you guys? Found anyone dying around here?"
"The last person that died in this town was a kid named Cole Griffith," Amy explained. "He died about ten days ago."
Dean showed Sam a picture of Cole. "It was the last death we could find."
"So, what are you thinking?" Sam asked.
"Well, Amy was thinking-" Dean paused briefly. "Actually, you know what? I'll just let her tell you."
"All I was thinking, was what if the reason no one is dying is just because death just isn't around?"
"As in, there's no reaper around?"
Amy shrugged. "It was just a theory. But when you die, that's what a reaper is for, right? But if something happened to the reaper..."
"Then no one dies," Sam finished.
Dean poured himself a cup of coffee. "So what? The local reaper's on strike? Playing the back nine? I don't know."
"Well, then, let's talk to somebody who might," Sam suggested.
"Well, last I checked, huggy bear ain't available," Dean said.
"Huh?" Amy asked
Sam let out a small laugh. "No, dude, the kid."
"The kid?" Dean questioned. "The kid's a doornail."
Sam nodded. "Exactly. Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him."
"I love how you say that as if it's something everyone does on a daily basis," Amy said with a smile.
Dean nodded. "Strange lives."
"Okay, so, how are we supposed to talk to this kid?" Amy asked.
Sam sat down at his laptop. "There's a ritual that'll summon his spirit to us. It needs to be performed over Cole's grave."
"So, as long as Cole wasn't cremated, we should be able to talk to him," Amy said.
Dean took a look at the obituary he had open. "Looks like he was buried at the local cemetery."
"Well, that covers that," Amy said. "How do we do this ritual?"
"It's pretty easy," Sam said, looking at his laptop screen. "We just need a few candles and this spell here. If done correctly, we should be able to talk to Cole."
Amy nodded. "Let's go talk to a ghost, then."
The hunters gathered everything they needed for the ritual and headed to the nearest cemetery. Once they found Cole's grave, they set up five candles around a pentacle that Sam had drawn on a cloth. Sam dropped some sticks in the middle of the pentacle, while Dean sat on another gravestone and flipped through their dad's journal.
"You sure this is gonna work?" Dean asked.
"No," Sam admitted, "but if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out."
"And if it doesn't work, then what?" Amy asked.
"Then we'll figure something else out," Sam told her.
Dean closed the journal as Sam poured something into a wooden bowl and set it in front of Cole's gravestone.
"What?" Sam asked, noticing Dean's worried expression.
Dean sighed. "This job is jacked, that's what."
"How so?" Sam asked.
"You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let's light it up, right? But this?" Dean gestured to the scene in front of him. "If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people."
"Good people die all the time, Dean," Amy pointed out. "I hate it too, but it's just how things work in the world."
Sam stood back up. "Look, I don't want them to die, either, Dean, but there's a natural order."
Dean scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"
"What?" Sam asked.
"You don't see the irony in that?" Dean asked back. "I mean, you and me, we're like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death."
"Yeah, but the normal rules don't really apply to us, do they?"
Dean stared at his brother for a moment. "We're no different than anybody else."
"I'm infected with demon blood, you've been to hell," Sam yelled. He pointed to Amy. "She has telekinetic powers. Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you're not. Neither am I. And neither is she. The sooner you accept that the better off you're gonna be."
Dean looked up at the sky and let out a slight laugh. "Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche."
Amy shook her head. "That's what you got from all that?"
"You gonna help me finish this?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded and stood up from the gravestone.
"Hey!" a voice shouted at them.
Amy looked over to see a man standing near them, shining a flashlight on the set-up for the ritual.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked.
"We, uh-" Amy began.
Sam glanced over at Dean, hoping for some help. "Just take it easy," he told the man.
"What the hell is this?" the man asked, gesturing to the ritual.
"Okay, this—this—this is not what it looks like," Dean replied, laughing nervously.
"Really? 'Cause it looks like devil worship."
"What?" Dean asked, even more nervously. "No! No, this is not devil worship. This—This is—this—this is, uh—" He sighed in defeat. "I don't have a good answer."
Sam held a hand out in front of him. "We're leaving."
"You're not going anywhere," the man said with a sinister grin. He took a step forward as Sam frowned. "Ever again. Sam."
Amy felt her heart skip a beat. "Damn it," she hissed.
The man turned to Dean, revealing a pair of white eyes.
"Alastair," Dean acknowledged. "I thought you got deep-fried, extra-crispy."
Amy reached for her gun, ready to fire it if needed.
"Nah," the demon said with a sneer. "Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious. Anyway." Alastair paused as he turned to Sam, who stood there fuming. "No time to chat. Got a hot date with death."
Alastair flicked his hand and Amy was suddenly thrown one direction while Dean was thrown the other. She barely had any time to brace herself as she collided with a gravestone. Every bone in her body ached as she lay on the broken rubble, trying to catch her breath.
Amy turned her head to the side to see Sam still standing in front of Alastair. The demon flicked his hand towards Sam, but nothing happened. Then he said something Amy couldn't quite hear. Sam flicked his wrist towards Alastair and Amy watched in a mix of shock and amazement as the demon went flying across the graveyard. Sam raised his hand again to exorcise Alastair, but the demon fled before he could.
With a groan, Amy slowly stood up, ignoring the pain that shot through her back. Dean was still on the ground and Sam hurried over. Amy moved as quickly as she could across the graveyard to join the brothers.
"Hey, you okay?" She asked Dean.
Dean groaned. "I'll be fine. Let's just get back to the motel room."
Amy helped Sam get Dean into the car before climbing into the backseat.
"What the hell happened back there?" Dean asked as Sam pulled away from the graveyard.
"I don't know," Sam said. "Alastair tried to fling me like he did with you guys and he couldn't."
December 20th, 2008 - Broken Saddle Motel
Sam pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel just after midnight. He stayed outside to call Bobby while Amy and Dean headed inside the room. As soon as they were inside, Dean immediately grabbed an ice pack, holding it to his head as he lay on the bed.
"You doing alright, kiddo?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Amy said as she sat on the other bed. "My back hurts, but I'll be fine. What about you?"
"Just peachy," Dean said with a groan.
A few minutes later, Sam came back into the room.
"How are you doing?" Sam asked.
"I'm in pain, that's how I'm doing," Dean replied. "I think I have a concussion."
"You want some aspirin?" Sam asked.
Dean sat up. "No thanks, House. So, demons, huh?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. So much for miracles. Amy, how about you? You haven't said much since the graveyard."
"I'm fine," Amy replied. "Just a little bruised, I think."
"What the hell happened with Alastair again?" Dean asked.
"I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever." Sam flicked his hand the way Alastair had done. "And it didn't work, so he bailed."
Sam walked over to the coffee pot, giving Amy a pleading look as if asking her not to tell Dean what she had seen.
"Well, how come he couldn't fling you?" Dean continued. "He chucked you pretty good last time."
Sam turned to Dean, pausing for a moment. "Got no idea," he finally said, turning back to the coffee pot.
Dean nodded. "Sam, do me a favor," he said. "If you're gonna keep your little secrets, I can't really stop you, but just don't treat me like an idiot, okay?"
"What?" Sam asked, turning around. "Dean, I'm not keeping secrets."
"Mm-hm," Dean replied, obviously not believing his brother. "Whatever. So, did you go back and Q&A the dead kid?"
Sam held up a thin notebook. "Didn't have to. Bobby called. He did some digging."
"And?"
"Looks like Amy might be right."
"So the reaper is gone?" Amy asked.
Sam nodded. "Not just gone. Kidnapped."
"By demons?" Dean asked. "Why?"
"Listen to this." Sam opened up the notebook and began reading from it. "And he bloodied death under the newborn sky—sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured."
"And that means what, exactly?" Amy asked.
"Well, it's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations," Sam explained.
"Which means what I think it means?" Dean asked.
"Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon—tomorrow night, by the way—you got yourself a broken seal."
"Of course it's tomorrow," Amy muttered. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"How do you ice a reaper?" Dean asked. "You can't kill death."
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe demons can." He sighed, sitting at the table by the door. "Where the hell are the angels, is what I want to know. We could use their help for once."
"Pretty sure most of them don't really care," Amy huffed.
"It looks like we're gonna have to take care of this one ourselves," Dean said.
Sam scoffed. "What are we gonna do, just swing in and save the friendly neighborhood reaper?"
Dean shrugged. "You got a better idea, I'm all ears."
"And how exactly would we do that?" Amy asked. "We can't see them."
"The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying," Sam explained.
"Like how you saw Tessa in that one episode," Amy continued.
"Who's Tessa?" Sam asked.
"Reaper," Dean explained. "I met her when we had that car crash and I was in a coma. And if ghosts are the only ones that can see them..." Dean trailed off.
"Yeah?"
"Then we become ghosts," Dean continued. He put the ice pack back on his head with a smirk.
Amy nodded. "Yes, but see the thing about that, is I would prefer to not die before I reach my twenties."
Dean nodded. "Sounds crazy, I know."
"It is crazy," Sam agreed.
Dean smirked again.
"How?" Sam asked.
Dean removed the ice pack again and put it to the side. "Figured Pamela might be able to help. I'm sure this is something she knows how to do."
"Yeah, but will she actually agree to it?" Amy asked. "I mean, if this goes wrong, we'd basically be asking her to kill us, right?"
"Well then let's hope it doesn't go wrong," Dean replied. He stood up from the bed. "Pamela's place is a few hours from here. I'll drive down there, pick her up, we should be back by morning."
"You sure you're okay to drive?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Alright, you guys stay here, I'll go get Pamela and bring her back."
Amy nodded. "Okay. See you in a bit."
Dean grabbed his keys and walked out of the motel room, closing the door behind him.
December 21st, 2008
The next morning, there was a knock on the door. Sam opened it up to see Pamela at the door with Dean standing behind her.
"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you guys are," Pamela said as soon as the door was opened. She held her hands out in front of her, feeling the counter and then the chair, before sitting down.
Amy smiled. "Hey, Pamela," she greeted.
"You're a sight for sore eyes," Sam said.
Pamela lowered her sunglasses far enough to reveal the white plastic eyes. "Aw, that's sweet, grumpy," she said before putting the glasses back. "What do you say to deaf people?"
Amy smirked as Sam and Dean looked around uncomfortably.
"Which one of you brainiacs came up with astral projection?" Pamela asked.
Dean raised a hand. "Yo."
Pamela nodded. "Of course. Chachi."
"Chachi?" Dean mouthed. Sam and Amy shrugged, unsure of what Pamela meant.
"So, let's be clear," Pamela continued. "You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?"
"Pretty much," Amy replied.
"Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane that is?" Pamela asked, folding her arms.
"Maybe, but that's where the reaper is, so..."
Pamela cut Dean off. "So, it's nuts."
Dean shrugged. "Not if you know what you're doing."
"You don't know what you're doing."
"No, but you do," Dean pointed out.
Pamela nodded. "Yeah, I do. And guess what? I'm sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, Soc-Greaser crap."
"Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, too," Dean began.
"Nice," Pamela said sarcastically. "More blind jokes?"
"You know what I mean," Dean muttered. "We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing." Dean paused. "We need your help."
"Please, Pamela," Amy added. "We wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important."
Pamela sighed. "Fine."
Sam sighed in relief. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet," Pamela replied. "Soon as this is over, I want out. For good."
Sam nodded. "Deal."
Amy helped Sam and Dean set up candles around the room. Dean set a candle on the bedside table while Sam closed the curtains in the room.
"Tell me something, geniuses," Pamela said as they set everything up. "Even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how you gonna save it?"
"With style and class," Dean replied.
You're gonna be three walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything," Pamela countered. "You'll be defenseless, hotshot."
"We'll figure something out," Amy said. "We always do."
"Besides," Sam added, "I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us."
"Yeah, well, they had plenty of time to practice," Pamela reminded them.
Dean shrugged. "Well, then, I guess we got to start cramming."
"Wow, real heroes you guys are," Pamela said. She patted one of the beds. "All right. Lie down. Close your eyes."
Sam lay diagonally across one of the beds while Amy and Dean lay down on the other one, closing their eyes.
"Animum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis," Pamela chanted. "Okay, guys. That's it. Showtime."
Amy opened her eyes and sat up, looking around. Pamela was leaning back in the chair.
Dean sat up next to her. "Well, nothing like shooting blanks," he said. "What's plan B?"
Pamela didn't reply.
Amy and Dean exchanged a glance. "Pamela?" Amy asked.
Dean looked over at Sam's body lying on the bed. At the same time, Sam appeared behind Dean. Amy glanced over her shoulder to see her own body lying next to Dean's.
"Okay, this is freaky," Amy muttered.
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
Dean smiled. "Oh, I'm so feeling up Demi Moore."
Amy groaned. "Dude..."
"All right, so, I'm assuming you're somewhere over the rainbow," Pamela spoke up. "Remember I have to bring you back." She stood up, walking over to Sam's body as Dean and Amy watched. "I'll whisper the incantation in your ear."
Pamela leaned over Sam and whispered something that Amy couldn't hear. Sam grinned.
"What'd she—" Dean looked up at his brother. "What'd she say?"
Sam shrugged, a smirk plastered on his face. He cleared his throat. "We should get going."
Dean nodded. "Let's go, then."
Amy followed Sam and Dean outside. They walked down the street, looking around at their surroundings. A jogger ran up to them but didn't stop, running straight through Sam.
"That was wild," Dean commented.
Sam looked at Dean incredulously as Dean stuck an arm through his chest.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Dean asked as Sam glared at him. Amy held back a chuckle.
"Get out of me," Sam snapped.
Dean rolled his eyes as he pulled his arm out of Sam. "You're such a prude. Come on." He continued walking down the street, Sam and Amy close behind.
Amy sighed as they walked down another street. "It's been hours and we haven't seen any demons," she said.
"I say we hit Victoria's Secret and get our peep on, huh?" Dean suggested.
Sam nudged Dean, pointing up to a window on their right. "Hey. Three o'clock. The kid in the window."
Amy looked up. Staring out at them through a window on the second story of a house was a young boy.
"Is that- that looks like Cole Griffith," Amy said.
"That's because it is," Dean replied. "Cole Griffith, the last person to die in this town."
Cole flickered in the window before vanishing.
"Come on," Dean said. He walked up to the door, hesitating slightly before walking straight through the closed door.
Dean led Sam and Amy up the stairs. A woman ran straight through them, crying as she hurried out of the room. Cole was standing next to a dresser, throwing balls out of the room.
"Stop!" Dean yelled as he dodged a basketball. "How are you doing that?"
"Who are you?" Cole demanded.
"Relax, Cole," Sam said quietly. "It's okay."
"How do you know my name?" Cole asked.
Sam approached Cole. "Look, this isn't gonna be easy to hear, but...you're—dead. You're a spirit. Us too."
Cole scoffed. "Yeah, thanks, Haley Joel. I know I'm dead. What do you want?"
"We just want to talk," Sam replied.
"About what?" Cole asked.
Amy stepped forward. "About you." She paused for a moment. "Cole...how did you die?" she finally asked.
Cole didn't reply as he walked out of the room and back down the stairs.
The hunters walked downstairs to find Cole leaning against a wall as he watched his mother pour herself a drink.
"I was outside all morning," Cole informed them, turning around. "They tell you to be careful when it's cold."
"Cold air can cause an asthma attack?" Dean asked.
Cole nodded with a shrug. "But then I was in my room." He sighed. "It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out. Everything started spinning, and then I was just standing there, looking down at my body."
"And that's when you saw the man?" Sam asked.
Cole nodded again. "Creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but..." he trailed off, looking back at his mother. "I didn't want to go."
"Reaper," Sam whispered to Dean and Amy. "How'd you get rid of him?" he asked Cole.
"I didn't," Cole replied. "The black smoke did."
"Black smoke?" Dean asked.
"It was everywhere," Cole said. "I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone, and so was he."
"Demon?" Amy asked quietly.
Sam nodded. "Must be," he whispered.
"Do you know where the smoke went?" Dean asked.
"No," Cole admitted. "But I know where it is."
The lights around the house started flickering and everyone looked around.
"They're back," Cole hissed.
"Who?" Dean asked.
Instead of answering, Cole flicked a few times before vanishing. A gust of wind hit Amy in the face as a faint, white, human-shaped figure rushed towards the stairs.
Dean quickly stood up, hurrying towards the stairs. "Hey! Hey! Wait! We need to talk to you!" he shouted after the figure.
The reaper turned to face them, before walking back down the stairs. Amy recognized her instantly. Tessa.
"Dean," Tessa greeted.
"Do I know you?" Dean asked in confusion.
"We go way back," Tessa replied.
"Tessa," Amy confirmed.
The reaper looked at her in confusion. "Do I know you?" she asked.
Amy shook her head. "I know you, though."
"So, you do know her," Sam asked Dean.
"This is Tessa," Dean said. "The one I told you about earlier."
"So, this is the reaper that came after you?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
Tessa turned to face Sam and Amy. "Well, this was fun," she said before turning back to Dean. "Now, if you'll excuse me—" she turned away, but Dean grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," he said quickly, "you can't—you can't take the kid."
Tessa turned back around. "Why?"
"Demons are in town, that's why," Dean explained. "They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where."
"So?" Tessa asked.
"So, you should get out of here before you get taken, too," Amy replied.
"Except that this town is off the rails," Tessa snapped. "And someone has to set it straight."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, we understand that, but these are special circumstances."
Tessa scoffed. "What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off? I could care less. I just want to do my job."
"Right, yeah, and, look, we want to help you do your job," Sam began. "So, if you would just bail town—"
"No," Tessa cut him off.
"Well, then, could you hold off until we fix this?" Dean asked. "Please."
Tessa sighed. "All right, but just so we're clear, when I start reaping again, I'm starting with the kid."
Sam nodded. "Understood. I'll find him." he turned to walk up the stairs.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Dean said. Sam turned back around. "What— what are you gonna say to him?"
Sam shrugged. "Whatever I have to."
Amy watched Sam disappear up the stairs before turning back to Dean and Tessa.
"I'll tell you, life is funny," Tessa said.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"You and me, together again," Tessa replied, moving closer to Dean.
"Are you—are you making a move on me?" Dean asked uneasily.
Tessa shook her head. "You're the one that got away, Dean. You'd be surprised how little that happens to me."
"Can I tell you something," Dean began. He looked over at Amy. "Between you and me?" he added.
Amy got the hint. "I'll be outside if you need me." She walked to the door, stepping outside.
Amy leaned against the railing of the porch as she watched a jogger run by. Now that she had a moment to herself, she began to think. It wouldn't be long, probably only a few months or so, until Sam killed Lilith. She knew she couldn't let that happen. She needed to figure out a good time to tell Sam and Dean about Ruby's true intentions. Getting Dean to listen would be easy, but from past experience, Amy knew getting Sam to listen wouldn't be as easy.
Maybe, just maybe, she could get through to him though. Stop Sam from killing Lilith and breaking the final seal. It was a longshot, but if she did, maybe she could stop everything that was about to happen from happening. After all, what good was knowing about the future if she couldn't do anything about it?
Dean poked his head out the door a minute later.
Amy smirked as she looked at the upper half of his body phasing through the door. "You are having way too much fun being a ghost," she said.
Dean nodded, stepping the rest of the way through the door. "Admit it, you think it's fun too."
Amy nodded as well. "Yeah, it is pretty fun," she admitted. She took a step towards him. "And, uh, just so you know, if you wanna have even more fun, you can actually move things, like I can, now that you're a ghost."
Dean raised an eyebrow in interest. "You mean like, with my mind?"
Amy nodded. "Yep," she confirmed.
Dean smiled mischievously. "You're gonna have to show us how," he said.
"I will," Amy agreed. "I'm guessing Sam found Cole, then?"
Dean nodded. "Cole's ready to tell us about the smoke he saw."
Amy sighed. "Okay." She followed Dean through the door. Sam was standing with Cole and Tessa in the living room.
"It's okay, Cole," Sam reassured the boy. "Just tell them what you told me."
Cole nodded. "I saw the black smoke at my funeral."
"At the cemetery?" Dean asked.
"At the funeral home," Cole corrected. "It was everywhere."
Before anyone could say anything else, the lights began flickering again.
"You doing that?" Dean asked, looking at Tessa.
"No."
The front door opened and a huge cloud of black smoke filled the room. Amy ducked as it poured over her, waiting for the smoke to disappear. When it finally did, she raised her head, only to find Tessa now gone.
"Tessa!" Dean called out.
"Cole, you okay?" Sam asked. The boy nodded.
"What the hell just happened?" Amy asked.
"And how the hell are we supposed to fight it?" Dean added.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Learn some ghost moves?"
"By tonight?" Dean scoffed. "Yeah, sure. I'll meet you back at Mr. Miyagi's."
"Who's Mr. Miyagi?" Cole asked.
"It'll take some time, but with Cole's and my help, it shouldn't take long."
Cole scoffed. "You know ghost moves?" he asked.
"Well, I know a ghost move," Amy corrected. "But I don't know how to teleport or touch solid objects."
"What exactly can you do, then?"
Amy closed her eyes, focusing her powers on the items around the room. The all-too-familiar sensation washed over her as she brought several, various items into the air and spun them around the room.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and put everything back down. "That," she said simply.
"But my brother and I," Dean cut in, "we can't do any of that stuff. We were hoping you could show us."
Cole nodded. "Alright, I'll show you some basics," he agreed.
Sam seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Cole."
"We'll work on moving things first," Cole said. "That's the easiest to learn." He smirked as he looked over at Amy. "You can teach them that."
Amy stood outside on the porch with Sam, Dean, and Cole. Dean was standing next to her while Sam and Cole watched from the doorway.
"Okay," Dean said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically, "how do we do this?"
Amy let out a small laugh. "Alright, so, basically, all it is is just concentration," she explained. "Here," she pointed to the windmill, "just focus on the windmill there."
Dean locked his eyes onto the windmill staring at it with extreme intent.
"Okay, okay," Amy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're not trying to make it explode."
Dean relaxed slightly.
"That's better." Amy sighed. "Just, imagine there's a string on the windmill."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"Okay, now focus on that string. Concentrate on it. Imagine something grabbing onto the string and pulling on it, using it to pull the windmill and make it turn."
Dean took a deep breath. He stared intently at the windmill.
"It's not gonna move if you don't concentrate," Cole called out.
"I am concentrating," Dean insisted. He glared harder at the windmill.
"You're not trying to make it explode, Dean," Amy reminded him. "Just move a little."
Dean looked over at her. "How the hell do you do this so easily?"
"I've had a lot of practice," Amy explained. "It just takes practice."
Dean closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He opened his eyes and stared at the windmill again, with less intent than the last time. A moment later, the windmill turned slightly.
"Ah, here we go, baby," Dean said triumphantly.
Cole scoffed as he walked up to Amy and Dean. "You pull a muscle?"
"All right, Yoda, let's see what you got," Dean challenged.
Cole looked at the windmill. It started spinning rapidly, not slowing down. Next to Amy, the porch swing started swinging while the wind chimes above Dean's head started chiming.
Dean looked impressed. "Dude! You are so Amityville."
Cole grinned. "This isn't even the good stuff." He hurried inside, quickly followed by Sam, Dean, and Amy.
Cole was bouncing excitedly in the living room when they entered. He gestured for them to come closer.
Sam walked up to Cole. "Alright, what did you want to show us?" he asked.
In response, Cole punched Sam in the stomach, causing the tall hunter to double over in pain.
"See?" Cole asked. "If you want to hit something, you just got to get mad."
Sam straightened up. "Yeah, got it."
Cole looked over at Dean. "Now you try. Hit me," he challenged.
Dean laughed nervously. "Uh, I think I'll stick to just picking on somebody my own size." he pointed to Sam. Cole punched him in the face, before turning to Amy.
"Hit me as hard as you can," he urged.
Amy swung her fist towards Cole, only to have her attack blocked. Cole swung his fist at her face, but she quickly dodged, swinging another punch at the ghost kid.
Before Amy's fist could connect with Cole, he vanished into thin air, reappearing across the room.
"Whoa. Whoa, you got to teach us that," Dean told the kid.
Cole smiled. "It's easy," he explained. "Just focus on where you want to go. It has to be somewhere nearby that you can see, though."
Amy picked a spot a few feet away from her and imagined herself there instead. A second later, she found herself standing on that exact spot, without even moving her feet.
"Whoa," Amy said as she found her balance again. Moving to a new location so suddenly felt almost the same way as when Gabe had flown her places before. "That was awesome."
"Oh, I have so got to try that," Dean exclaimed.
Cole spent another few hours showing Sam, Dean, and Amy how to use their ghost powers. Amy worked with Sam on the telekinesis, but he quickly proved to be a fast learner, wasting no time in getting things to move.
Before long, Cole had taught them all they needed to learn.
"Thank you, Cole," Amy said gratefully.
"Yeah, thanks," Dean repeated.
"So, where are you guys going now?" Cole asked.
"Funeral home," Sam explained. "We gotta get rid of this black smoke."
Cole nodded. "Good luck."
Amy stood in front of the funeral home with Sam and Dean later that night. The walls of the building were covered in several blue, glowing, figures. She watched as several people walked by, ignoring both the hunters and the glowing symbols.
"This looks like New Jack City," Dean observed. He looked behind him as a woman walked by. "Can nobody can see this?" he asked.
Sam shrugged. "Maybe it's demon invisible ink. Only see it in the veil."
"Any idea what it's for?" Dean asked.
"We'll find out."
Sam led them inside the funeral home. Amy followed Dean quietly down one hallway that led around a staircase, while Sam went the other way. The hallways met back up in another room and Sam shrugged, not having found anything.
They continued through the funeral home until they reached an open room. An eight-pointed-star was drawn in the center of the room, with different symbols drawn at each point. Lying in the star, was Tessa and another reaper. A man stood guard on the other side of the trap, his back towards the hunters.
"Dude, check me out," Dean whispered. He took a few steps forward, before vanishing. He reappeared a few seconds later directly behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned around and Dean punched him in the face, vanishing before the man could straighten up and take a swing at him.
Amy teleported herself directly in front of the man. He stumbled backward and she took the opportunity to knee him in the stomach. Sam appeared behind the man kicked him in the back, pushing him over to Dean, who threw another punch to the stomach.
The man scrambled away, hiding behind a coffin on a raised platform. The hunters exchanged a glance, before walking towards the platform.
"You know, this ghost thing, it's, it's kind of rad," Dean said as they approached the coffin.
As they walked past a curtain, another man ran out from behind it with a chain. His hands were smoking as he attached it to a hook. The first man from earlier quickly moved out of the way as the man with the chain attached it to a candle stand.
Amy could see a faint barrier surrounding them where the iron chains were. The barrier stopped her in her tracks, preventing her from escaping the trap.
"It's iron," Sam commented.
"Kinda figured that," Amy replied.
The two men backed away from the chain as another man entered.
"You three find the place okay?" The demon rolled his eyes back, revealing the familiar white eyes of Alastair. He walked up to the chain as one of the other demons handed him a shotgun, before leaving with the first demon.
Alastair aimed the gun at Dean and pulled the trigger. Amy watched in a panic as Dean disintegrated before her eyes.
"Dean!" she cried out.
Alastair sneered. "Rock salt's not so much fun anymore, is it?"
Dean suddenly reappeared next to Amy. He let out a pained groan. "Alastair. You bastard."
Alastair looked over at Sam. "Well, go on," he taunted. "Why don't you try some of your mojo on me now, hotshot?"
Sam glared at the demon but didn't say anything.
"It's hard to get it up when you're not wearing your meat, huh?" Alastair asked.
"Go to hell," Sam snapped.
Alastair clicked his tongue. "Ah, if only I could." He turned away from them, crossing the room. "But they just keep sending me back up to this arctic craphole."
"Why?" Amy asked. "To kill death?"
"No, to kill death twice," Alastair corrected. "It takes two to break a seal. I figured another one would show up, though. They're like lemmings."
Alastair pumped the shotgun and fired it at Amy. She felt a sharp pain radiate through her entire body as if every atom inside her was torn to shreds. The room around her vanished for a moment before she suddenly found herself standing between Sam and Dean again. She glared at the demon, holding her pained stomach.
"Ah, that so?" Alastair was asking. He took out a small scythe. Anyhoo," he said, turning the scythe around in his hands. "Moon's in the right spot. The board is set. Let's get started, shall we?"
"You're gonna kill a reaper with that?" Dean asked, nodding towards the scythe. He scoffed. "It's a little on the nose, don't you think?"
"Is it?" Alastair asked. "An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn't really ride a pale horse? But he does have three amigos." The demon walked over to the reaper trap. "And they're just jonesing for the apocalypse." He knelt down next to the old reaper. "It pays to have friends in low places," he said as he grabbed the reaper by the collar and pulled him up. "Don't you think?"
Alastair put the scythe to the reaper's neck. Amy looked around the room frantically for anything she could use. "Hic cruor messorius, illud sigillum," he chanted, "quod luciferem reverendum obstringit, aperiat ut resurgat!" He pulled the scythe across the back of the reaper's neck. Bright lights flashed around the funeral home as Alastair lowered the reaper to the floor and moved towards Tessa.
Sam nudged Amy in the shoulder and pointed up to a chandelier directly above the reaper trap.
Alastair grabbed Tessa by her shoulder and pulled her up, holding the scythe to her neck.
"Stop!" Tessa cried out.
Amy focused on the chandelier, pulling it towards the ground with Sam and Dean's help.
"Hic cruor messorius," Alastair began, "illud sigillum, quod luciferem reverendum obstringit—"
The chandelier began to shake violently. Amy concentrated harder as Alastair continued the spell.
"—aperiat ut resurgat!"
Before Alastair could kill Tessa, the chandelier fell onto the reaper trap, breaking it. Tessa vanished from Alastair's grasp, reappearing next to the candle stand. She unhooked the chain, dropping it to the ground.
Dean waved at Alastair. "Bye-bye."
Amy smirked as she disappeared with Sam, Dean, and Tessa.
Amy found herself waking up back in the motel room, rather than outside the funeral home. Sam was already awake, holding Pamela up as she painfully clutched her stomach.
"Pamela?" Amy asked. She looked up at Sam. "What happened?"
Sam looked over his shoulder and Amy followed his gaze. The motel room looked ransacked and one of the demons from earlier was slumped against the wall, a knife in his hand.
"Shit," Amy hissed. She quickly stood up, helping Sam sit Pamela down on the chair nearby.
"You'll be okay, Pamela," Amy told the psychic. She was lying, though. She knew she was and she knew Pamela knew it too.
Pamela started laughing.
"What's so funny?" Sam asked.
"I can't die—not in this town." Pamela took her hand away from her wound. There was no blood.
"Pamela-" Sam began.
Pamela coughed. "Quit your worrying, grumpy." She patted Sam on the shoulder. "How about you make me a drink, huh?"
"You need a doctor," Sam stated.
"Make me a drink, Sam," Pamela repeated.
Sam nodded uneasily. "Okay," he finally said. "Okay."
Sam stood up and poured Pamela a glass of whiskey, handing it to her. Pamela downed the drink in one sip, before painfully standing up, using Sam and Amy for support.
"Let's wake up that brother of yours," Pamela groaned. She supported herself on the bed and leaned over Dean's body. "Imum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis."
Sam helped Pamela sit on the other bed. "Hey, we just gotta talk to Tessa, that's all," he told her. "Get her to hold back reaping till we get you better."
Pamela leaned back against the headrest. "I'm pretty sure she's started up again."
"What do you mean?" Amy asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
Pamela removed her hand from her wound for a brief moment, just long enough for blood to start pouring out.
Dean sat up with a loud gasp. "What happened?" he asked when he saw Pamela.
"Dean, where's Tessa?" Sam asked.
Dean hesitated. "She's..."
Pamela sat on the bed and took off her sunglasses, dropping them to the ground.
"Pamela, I'm so sorry," Sam apologized.
"I wish there was something we could do," Amy added.
"Stop," Pamela snapped. She let out another pained cough.
"You don't deserve this," Sam continued.
"Yeah, I don't," Pamela agreed. "I told you I didn't want anything to do with this. Do me a favor? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer—to go to hell for ever introducing me to you three in the first place." She turned her head towards Amy. "And you?" Pamela groaned again. "Screw you."
Pamela started coughing more violently. Dean moved forward to support her. "Take it easy, Pamela." He let out an uneasy laugh. "If it's any consolation, you're going to a better place."
Pamela scoffed. "You're lying. But what the hell, right? Everybody's got to go sometime."
Pamela gestured Sam closer. "Come here."
Sam leaned closer and Pamela whispered something Amy couldn't hear in his ear. Sam pulled away shakily as Pamela started to cough up blood.
Sam shook the psychic. "Pamela?"
Pamela didn't respond. Her head slid lifelessly down the headboard.
"Pamela!" Amy cried out frantically.
Dean looked up at Sam. "What did she say to you?" he asked.
Sam looked away, not responding.
Dean let go of Pamela's hand as Amy stood up and walked away from the bed. "She's dead," he muttered.
Amy sighed. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, and put her face in her hands. "I should have been able to do something," she muttered.
"There was nothing you could have done, Amy," Sam assured her. "This wasn't your fault. Pamela was already dead before she woke us back up."
Amy turned her head away from the Winchesters. She barely registered Dean walking up and helping her to her feet as Sam gently wrapped Pamela up in the bedsheet and picked up her body, following them out the door.
Sam placed Pamela in the trunk of the Impala. Amy stayed silent as she climbed into the backseat. Dean started the engine up and started his drive down the road.
December 22nd, 2008 - Cheyenne Wyoming
No one said a word the entire drive. When Dean finally pulled into a clearing in the middle of nowhere, they got out of the Impala. Amy silently helped Dean build up a pyre while Sam pulled Pamela from the trunk and gently placed her on top.
Dean poured lighter fluid and salt on the body, before lighting a match. He took a deep breath. "Well, good-bye, Pamela." His voice shook on every word.
"I'm so sorry," Amy whispered, refusing to look at the pyre. "You don't deserve this."
Dean dropped the match on the pyre and it burst into flames. A tear rolled down Amy's cheek as the stood with Sam and Dean, watching the wind blow the flames around. She felt so guilty as Pamela's body burned before her eyes. Maybe, if Amy had warned Pamela before they became ghosts, or if they had never become ghosts, this wouldn't have happened.
Amy wiped the tears from her eyes as the flames died down. She needed to do something, to change something. She had already made the mistake once when Dean went to Hell, by not saying something sooner, and she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.
"There's something I need to tell you guys." Sam and Dean looked down at Amy. "It's about Lilith, Ruby, and the seals."
