I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters. I only own Isabeau and my own original characters.


Sam and Dean walk in through the door of the Arkansas Museum of Anthropology. Dean is holding a map and flashlight and Sam is holding just a flashlight.

Dean looks at the map, "This way."

They walk down the hallway, "I hate this plan, Dean." Sam says.

"Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it." Dean says.

Sam shakes his head, "God, I wish Isabeau was here with us."

Dean sighs, "Same. But what can we do, man? She's got to follow her part of the plan and to do that, she can't be with us."

They turn a corner, walking side by side. They pass a motion sensor on the wall at mid-calf height. The light on the motion sensor turns red as they keep walking.

Sam undoes the lock on a glass exhibition case and he carefully takes a decorated axe from the case. Dean is holding a hooked dagger from another case and Sam turns the axe around in his hands.

There's a noise somewhere in the museum that causes Sam to look up. Dean looks back at Sam who inclines his head, and they put down the weapons, and leave.


Sam and Dean leave the room and walk quickly towards the exit. They turn a corner and are met by two policemen.

"Freeze!" One officer calls out.

They turn back the other way, but two more policemen block their path, "Don't move!" Another officer shouts.

They go down the last hallway open to them, and there is yet another pair of cops standing there.

"I said freeze!" The first officer calls out again.

"Hold it right there!" The second officer commands.

The first officer comes up behind them, "Put your hands on you heads! Get down on your knees! Now!"

Sam and Dean comply, kneeling down and two of the cops walk closer and handcuff them.

Dean smiles slightly and looks at Sam, who doesn't look as pleased and heaves a worried sigh.


Sam is standing in front of a mugshot board holding a sign that says:

81A3826

LITTLE ROCK

CITY POLICE

LITTLE ROCK AR.

He reaches about 6'5 on the board. "Front." The photography orders Sam to face straight forward. The camera clicks, and Sam's picture turns black and white.

"To the right." The photographer orders. The camera clicks again, and Sam is now facing his right.


Dean is standing where Sam was moments before, holding a similar sign. He reaches just under 6'3 and is grinning, "I call this one the Blue Steel."

Dean purses his lips, arches his right eyebrow, and mugs for the camera.

"Yeah, that's great." The photography says sarcastically. The camera clicks and the picture changes to black and white as Sam's did.

"To the right." The camera clicks again, and Dean faces the right, "All right, back to the lineup." The photographer commands.

Dean turns back, still grinning, "Wait, who looks better, me or Nick Nolte?"

"Shut up."


Dean is sitting inside an interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. He looks down fiddling with his thumbs. He was wondering what Isabeau was up to at the moment.

For the past couple of months, the three of them stayed at her parents' place, enjoying a little time off. Some hunting here and there, but nothing that took them out of state. In a way, it gave them an idea of what it would be like to get a place of their own.

He didn't let Isabeau or Sam know, but he was looking at houses for the three of them. When Isabeau talked about getting a place of their own when all of this was over, he was already looking.

Breaking from his thoughts, the door opens and two men enter; one is Agent Henriksen.

Dean looks over, "Well, it's about time. I'll have a cheeseburger. Extra onions."

Henriksen smiles at the other cop and the other cop smirks, "You think you're funny."

"I think I'm adorable." Dean smiles widely.

Henriksen nods, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean." On hearing this, Dean's smile freezes.

Henriksen continues, "I'm Special Agent Victor Henriksen. This is my partner, Special Agent Reidy."

Dean is still smiling, but a bit worried, "Henriksen? Not the Milwaukee agent Henriksen?"

Henriksen shakes his head, "Live and in person."

Dean gives a short laugh.

Henriksen pulls out a picture of Dean looking over his shoulder, "Oh, nice shot." He tosses the picture onto the table, "You can hang that up in your cell at Super Max."

"All right, maybe we can just forget the cheeseburger, huh?" Dean asks with a smile.

Henriksen smiles, "Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover how up cornered you are." He looks over to Reidy, "Read him the charges."

Reidy starts listing off the charges, "Well, we got mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration…"

Henriksen points at him, "Skip to the good ones."

"Armed robbery, kidnapping and, oh, three counts of first-degree murder." Reidy says.

"And after Milwaukee, you can keeping an officer of the law hostage and your brother is now a suspect in a murder case himself. I'd say for you two, "screwed to hell" is a major understatement." Henriksen explains.

Dean looks over at Henriksen, "Well, where there's life, there's hope, huh?" One thing was bugging him; how did he know about Isabeau?

Henriksen makes a noise of assent, "See? That's what I kept thinking as I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone."

He leans forward on the table, speaking softly, "Your dad taught you well. The way you cover your tracks and after Milwaukee the way you," He whistles and moves his hand to the side, mimicking disappearing, "Vanished."

Dean laughs softly.

"Near went nuts trying to find you. Ask him." Henriksen gestures to Reidy.

"He near went nuts." Reidy deadpans.

"And after all of that, you get tripped up on a motion detector. Pretty rookie move. Gotta say I was… surprised." Henriksen says.

Henriksen then shakes his head, "Though I am baffled by one thing. What did you do to Isabeau Fitzgerald?"

Dean smiles, "Who?" He lies.

Henriksen stares at him, "Officer Fitzgerald. The woman who you held hostage in the bank in Milwaukee. We found her in the basement unconscious."

Dean pauses and then clicks his tongue, "Oh, the white-haired chick. Yeah, she was cute. What about her?"

Henriksen narrows his eyes at Dean, "She's currently missing. Disappeared from Milwaukee not long after you and your brother. My guess is that you and your brother took an interest and decided to add kidnapping an officer to your list of charges. So, where is she?"

Dean shakes his head, "Sorry to hear that, but, uh, haven't seen or heard of her."

Henriksen nods with a hum, "We will find her."

Dean looks down at the table when the door beside him opens. He looks over at it, as does Henriksen and Reidy.

In walks Public Defender, Mara Daniels, "Dean Winchester?"

"In the flesh." Dean says.

"And you are?" Henriksen asks.

"Mara Daniels, Public Defender's office." She shakes hands with Dean, "I've been assigned you and your brother's case."

"Huh." Dean hums.

Mara looks back and forth between the two men, "Are you Henriksen?" She asks.

Henriksen nods, "Yeah, and we're not quite done here."

Mara nods with a smile, "Ah, yeah. You are. And if you don't mind, I would like to meet with my clients. Privately."

Dean raises his eyebrows and smiles at Henriksen.


Sam is now sitting in the same room with Dean as Mara opens her suitcase, "Unfortunately your arraignment on the breaking and entering charge won't be until Tuesday."

"And they'll keep us in the county jail?" Dean asks.

"That's right." Mara confirms.

"Green River County Detention Center?" Sam asks.

Mara nods, "Yes. And considering the charges you're facing, no judge in his right mind is going to grant you bail."

Sam scoffs.

"Yeah, we figured that." Dean says.

"Extradition papers have already been filed from five separate states, Missouri and Wisconsin being the biggest concern – the bank robbery and the murder raps." Mara explains.

Sam glances at Dean, "Well, how long can we stall extradition?"

"A week. Maybe less." Mara answers.

Dean nods and Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother.


Rear bus doors open, revealing a shackled man, who gets out. Following him is Dean, holding the chains attached to his wrists and feet, and Sam follows.

"All right, let's go. Watch your step. Come on, keep moving." The guard orders them.

The prisoners walk past the front of the bus in a line and along the rec yard from earlier. Prisoners line up against the fence and catcall at the new convicts.

One of them points at Sam, "You're mine, baby!"

Dean glances over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Sam. I promise I won't trade you for smokes."

Sam just shakes his head and glances around at all the guards; Where the hell was Isabeau?


The new prisoners, now dressed in orange jumpsuits, are flanked by two guards and each carrying blankets and a roll of toilet paper, walk down the hallway in a line. One of the guards unlocks a cell door.

The first prisoner in line and Dean enter the cell, "I call top bunk!" Dean grins.

Dean's roommate scoffs and places his things on the top bunk. Dean nods, "Okay."

Dean turns and watches Sam walk into the cell across the hallway from his.

Sam nods to his very large roommate, who stands slowly and glares at him. Sam's eyes widen, he swallows, and turns around. The cell doors close on him and Dean as they stare at each other.


The prisoners are lined up to be frisked by a guard, and scanned with a metal-detecting rod by another.

Dean and Sam are well down the line.

Dean speaks in a low voice to Sam, who is standing behind him, "My roommate doesn't say much. How's yours?"

"Just keeps staring at me... in a way that makes me ... really uneasy." Sam says quietly.

Dean nods, "It sounds like you're making new friends."

Sam shifts in place, "Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done. And that's in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy."

"Calm down. It's all part of the plan." Dean says.

Sam scoffs, "Oh really? So Henriksen showing up was part of the plan? Him knowing about Isabeau?"

"Yeah, that guy moves a little faster than I thought." Dean pauses, "I don't know how he knows about Isabeau. Look, all we gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down... then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos." Dean jokes.

"That's not funny." Sam sighs, "Dean, what about this escape plan? Do –"

"It's a 100 percent sure thing. I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't. I mean, come on, man, this place has all the signs of a haunting. Innocent people are dead. Four so far." Dean explains.

Sam laughs sarcastically, "Yeah, innocent."

Dean blinks, "You from Texas all of a sudden? Just because these people are in jail, doesn't mean they deserve to die. If we don't stop this thing, people are going to continue to die. We do this job wherever it takes us."

"Look, Dean, just be straight with me, all right? You're doing this for Deacon?" Sam asks.

"Damn right." Dean answers immediately.

"We barely even know the guy."

Dean glances over, "We know he was in the Corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad's life. We know we owe him."

"Yeah, all right, but don't you think he's asking a little much?" Sam asks.

"It doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to you." Dean pauses, "I'm not thrilled about this either, man, but Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that's exactly what we're going to do."


Sam is looking at spaghetti on his fork and sniffing at it disdainfully. He and Dean are eating at a table, "You know, this chicken isn't half bad." Dean comments, though frowns at it.

When they were staying with Isabeau's family they were eating home cooked meals almost everyday.

"Great. Finish mine." Sam puts down his fork and slides his plate towards Dean. He was about to speak when something or better, someone caught his attention. He licks his lips, "Found Isabeau."

Dean's eyes widen and he looks over in the direction Sam was staring. He swallows thickly, "Hello, sweetheart." He whispers out.

A distance away from them was Isabeau, who had her long white hair styled into two french braids and was wearing a guards uniform with her own little added touch of wearing combat boots. Her rosary was gone and her tattoos were covered up by makeup.

Her eyes scan over the cafeteria and freezes when she lands on Sam and Dean. She faintly smirks and winks at the brothers.

She juts her head, gesturing for them to look away from her and get back to what they were doing.

Sam nods and Dean turns back, "All right, so let's go back over this, Dean." Sam says, getting back on track, eyes flickering to Isabeau every so often.

Dean stabs Sam's chicken with a fork and moves it to his own plate.

"Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?" Sam asks.

Dean glances over his shoulder, "Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire – Satanism, ritual murderer, died in jail."

"You sure it's him?"

Dean takes a bite of his food, "Pretty sure."

"Dean, considering our circumstances, I'm gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure'." Sam says.

"Really pretty sure." Dean answers, "Moody died of a heart attack, which is what all the victims in here are dying of. He died in the old cell block, which they closed after he croaked, 30 years ago. They just opened that back up. That's when the killings started."

Sam nods, "So you think his spirit was released somehow?"

Dean hums, "Mm-hmm."

"But what if he was already cremated?" Sam asks.

Dean juts his head to Isabeau, "Isabeau is figuring that out, you know touching everything she can get her hands on, but I'm guessing there's something in the old block that's keeping him around. And whatever it is, we got to find it. And, uh, you know the rest."

Dean puts down his fork, "I'm done."

Dean gets up and walks away with Sam following. While he wasn't looking, Sam bumps heavily into a tattooed prisoner. Sam immediately apologizes, "Sorry. I –"

The tattooed prisoner glares at him, "Watch where you're going."

Sam nods, "Yeah. Sure. I just –"

Dean walks over to the tattooed prisoner, "He said he was sorry."

"Dean…" Sam warns.

Isabeau, who was watching, swore to herself, "Shit, couldn't go five minutes, Dearie?" She whispers to herself.

"You talking to me?" The prisoner asks as Dean stares at him, "Are you talking to me?" He asks again.

Dean raises his brow, "Great, another guy who's seen "Taxi Driver" too many times. Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go."

The tattooed prisoner walks away, Isabeau sighs in relief and Dean turns to Sam.

"Dean, come on." Sam says.

"See, that's how you got to talk to these guys." Dean winks and clicks his tongue, "Instant respect."

Sam notices the tattooed prisoner is talking to a very large prisoner, who is sitting at a table nearby and he gets up. Sam raises a brow, "You were saying?"

Dean turns as the very large prisoner is following the tattooed prisoner towards Dean as other prisoners look on, "Oh, great." He groans.

The tattooed prisoner throws a punch at Dean and he catches him, and holds him from behind, "We can end this right now – no harm, no foul."

Isabeau clenches her jaw and holds herself back from jumping in too soon.

The tattooed prisoner breaks Dean's hold. Dean grabs him again and slams him against a wall. The tattooed steps on Dean's foot, he steps back and kicks the tattooed prisoner in the groin and then sends him flying backwards to the ground with another kick.

Isabeau looks over as the warden comes up to her with other guards. He gives her a nod, gesturing for her to take the front. She steps forward with the men behind her, "That's enough!" She yells out.

Isabeau walks towards the prisoner and Dean, expressionless as she gets into character. She glances down at the tattooed prisoner, "On your feet, Lucas." She orders.

Sam swallows thickly as he watches Isabeau. They've never seen her like this before, commanding and powerful; it was quite intimidating and dare he say, attractive.

Lucas rubs his jaw, glancing up at the woman, "Yes, ma'am." He gets up, watching on.

Isabeau takes out her baton and holds it under Dean's chin, "What's your name?" She asks, tilting his head up.

She hears a couple of prisoners whistling at her actions, and even a few sexual comments. She ignores them, staring into Dean's eyes.

Dean licks his lips, "Winchester." If they weren't in this situation, he was pretty sure he'd be on his knees for Isabeau.

Isabeau smirks, "Well, Winchester... not a good start." After a long pause, Isabeau removes the baton from under Dean's chin. She turns around and walks to the warden, nodding at him.

The warden nods back and looks at Dean, "Solitary." The warden bumps against Lucas, "You too, Lucas."

The other guards grab Lucas and Dean. "Yes, sir." Lucas responds as the warden and Isabeau walk away.

Dean looks over the shoulder of the guard holding him and escorting him out, "Are we having fun yet, huh?" He asks Sam.

The very large prisoner points at Sam, then makes a slicing motion across his neck.

Sam sighs. Of course it had to go this way.


Dean is sitting in a cell, leaning against a wall, "I wish I had a baseball." He calls out.

Lucas looks through the small window-slit in the door of his cell, across the hallway from Dean's cell, "What? What'd you say?"

"I said, 'I wish I had a baseball.'" Dean repeats himself.

Dean moves so he can look through his own window-slit, "You know, like... Steve McQueen."

Lucas nods, "Yeah? Well, I wish I had a bat. So I could bash your frickin' head in."

"Okay." Dean says quietly.

Dean goes back to leaning against the wall, "Well, so much for the bonding in solitary moment."

The lights flicker and Dean's breath becomes visible, "Oh, crap."

Dean looks through the cellroom slit and sees a clock in the hallway, which reads 8:30. The second hand is just past the 4 and is not moving. The lights are flickering with a static-y sound, "Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still."

Lucas looks through his window-slit, hearing whispering and two narrowed eyes look back at him, framed in the slit.

Lucas gasps and backs up in alarm. A hand grabs him from behind and turns his face around, looking at the eyes again. Lucas grimaces, then screams, as dark veins pop out on and spread across his face.

Dean is looking through his own narrow slit, his eyes widening in fear as he hears Lucas's screams echo throughout the cell block.


Inside Little Rock police station, Henriksen is reading a file at his desk. Reidy is looking at paperwork in the background as Mara enters the room, "Henriksen." She greets.

Henriksen looks over, "Hey, Daniels."

"Can I have a word?" She asks him.

Henriksen points to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, "Have a seat. What's on your mind?:

Mara comes over, taking a seat, "I've been going through the Winchester charges. And I gotta say, there are some weird inconsistencies."

"Welcome to my world." Henriksen says, getting up to put his file away.

"I talked to a cop in Baltimore who swears up and down these boys saved her life and helped her catch a killer. And there's a witness to your bank robbery in Milwaukee. She swears Sam and Dean saved her life." Mara explains.

"Saved her from what?" Henriksen asks.

"She was a little unclear on that." Mara answers.

"That's because she's nuts. Look, I was in Milwaukee. I spoke to her, I spoke to all the witnesses." Henriksen shakes his head.

"And?"

"And, all I know is, wherever these guys go, people die. It's that simple." Henriksen says.

Mara shakes her head, "I don't know that it is. They just don't seem cut-and-dry guilty to me. I think there's more to this."

"Like what?" Henriksen questions.

"I don't know. Can't put my finger on it. It's just... strange." Mara says.

"Strange." Henriksen nods, "Yeah. Okay. Grownups are trying to get some work done here, so... if you don't mind…"

Mara looks pissed off at his patronizing attitude, and gets up to leave the room. But she pauses, "By the way, that honorary officer, Isabeau Fitzgerald, I talked to her."

Henriksen's face falls, "You what? She's been missing. We concluded that the Winchester brothers took her and hid her somewhere."

Mara shakes her head with a faint smile, "She's not missing, nor she said that the Winchesters ever took her. She left the bank robbery because she was following her own lead. Went underground basically."

Mara takes a breath, "She's fine and is currently working a case back in Sioux Falls. She'll give you a call to explain in more detail later." With that, she leaves the room.

Henriksen takes a seat and sighs.


Sam and a prisoner are mopping floors. Sam looks over his shoulder at the other prisoner, "How you doing?"

The prisoner looks over, "I'm 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?"

Sam nods, "All right. Bad icebreaker. I'm Sam."

"Randall." The prisoner responds with a small smile.

"Nice to meet y–" Sam recognizes the name, turning around, "Randall. Hey, weren't you there the night that guard died?"

"Yeah." Randall answers.

"Well, what happened?" Sam asks.

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

Sam smiles a little, "Yeah? What do you say?"

Randall stops moping and turns to Sam, "Why are you inside, kid?"

Sam goes back to moping, "'Cause I got an idiot for a brother."

"That'll do it." Randall comments.

"Yeah." Sam agrees.

Randall smiles, "Aw, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the damn Hilton."

Sam turns, "You spent time in the old block?"

Randall nods, "Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer."

"Didn't they have Mark Moody over there for a while?" Sam asks.

"He was there." Randall turns to him, "Yeah I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it."

"Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?"

"Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice. The next morning, I was in his cell, mopping up the blood. What a mess." Randall explains and goes back to moping.

Sam furrows his brow, "Wait. So he – he was beaten and – and nobody reported it?"

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

"Randall... exactly how much blood was there?" Sam asks.


Dean is playing cards with a prisoner at an outdoor table in the red yard, "Call."

The prisoner puts up his cards and winks at Dean, "Three aces."

Dean looks away, "That's a bad beat. That is a bad beat…"

The prisoner picks up the cigarettes that are on the table between them. Dean had a large pile of cigarettes next to him and Sam is standing nearby watching the game.

Dean continues, "...but, see, I'm full... 3s over aces."

The prisoner drops the cigarettes, slams his hand down on the table and stands up.

Dean laughs and spreads his hands, "Ha ha ha, sorry. Hey, it's a cruel game, my friend."

The prisoner flings down his cards and walks off. "Sorry, guys." Dean apologizes.

Sam sits down across from Dean as he gathers the cigarettes he won, "It's like picking low hanging fruit." Dean says.

Sam shakes his head, "You don't even smoke. And I'm pretty sure Isabeau would kick your ass if you did."

Dean raises a brow, "You forget who our girlfriend is? She never smoked cigarettes, but she does have her fun times every once in a while. And are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm."

Sam narrows his eyes and changes the subject, "Look. I got a good lead on Moody."

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

"What?" Sam asks.

"The clock stopped, the flickering lights, cold spot... I mean, he did everything but yell 'boo'." Dean explains.

"Well, what happened?"

"He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming…" Dean pauses, "The guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that. What'd you find out on Moody?"

"Yeah, so, I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell." Sam answers.

"Blood?" Dean asks, "I thought it was a heart attack."

Sam nods, "It was, after the guards worked him over. I mean, apparently there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it out."

"How we gonna get in?" Dean asks.

"I got a plan. Just need to get it to Isabeau somehow." Sam informs.

Dean smiles, "That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you're like Clint Eastwood from 'Escape From Alcatraz'."

"Yeah, well, if I can't get the plan to Isabeau so she can burn the remains, how are we going to burn it?" Sam asks. If Isabeau couldn't do it, how were they going to?

"It's a good thing I'm like James Garner from 'The Great Escape'." Dean stands up and holds up two hands full of cigarettes, "Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?"