We caught scent of a strange death in Dearborn, Michigan. It appeared that a man named Matthew Hammond had been hit and killed by a car on the 10th floor of his apartment building. Of course, we drove there to figure out what really happened.

Dean pulled up in front of the apartment, cops were walking in and out of the place. He just stopped and stared up at the building for a Moment, "Feels wonky."

"What?" I asked.

"Working a regular job," Dean said.

I shrugged, "Bobby or Nate will call if they hear anything about the Leviathans."

Sam nodded, "In the meantime, you know you want to work this Case, Dean. Cop on the wire sounded dumbfounded."

"No arguments. It's kind of nice, you know?" Dean smiled, "We're due for a little cut and dry. And, uh… You seem good."

Sam nodded, "I am. For me," He looked at Dean very seriously, "By the way… Thank you."

"For?" Dean asked.

"Amy," Sam said sincerely, "I know you didn't want to let her go, but it was the right thing to do. So, thanks."

Dean hesitated and then nodded, "No problem."

After a long day of Sam and Dean running around talking to people, while I waited in the car, they finally caught a break. While they checked out the victim's apartment, they found strange red dirt on his floor, and the EMF was going nuts. They found out that Matthew Hammond had been going to AA for ten years and had been buying flowers for someone named Elizabeth Duran once a month since he started. The woman at the flower shop didn't know much about her other than where she had been buried. So, once night fell, we went to the graveyard to see if we could find out anything else about her.

We walked through the cemetery for a while until we finally found her gravestone.

Dean pointed his flashlight at it, "Here we go. Meet Elizabeth Duren."

Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded, "Died at ten. Wow. So, who was she?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. Why don't we chew on it back at the motel?"

We went back to the motel, and Sam sat down and got to work, looking up who Elizabeth Duren was.

Sam sighed, "Elizabeth Duren. Killed ten years ago when a neighbor backed out of his driveway. Didn't see her bike. No one was ever charged. Police ruled it an accident."

"Let me guess. The neighbor's our tenth-floor pancake," Dean said.

Sam nodded, "At least we know he felt bad. I mean, the flowers…"

Dean shrugged, "Kind of makes you wonder if the guy wasn't drunk when he ran her over," He stared at the beer bottle in his hand for a Moment.

I cleared my throat, "I mean, you don't have to make a little girl's death darker."

"Yeah. Alright. Well, regardless, now that we got a decent bead on ghost rider, let's go," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Burn her bones. Put her to rest," Sam said.

"You really think the little girl did it?" I asked, "After all this time?"

Sam nodded, "Well, the woman I talked to at AA said that Matt relapsed shortly before his death, maybe that triggered her to come back."

Dean sighed and took a swig of his beer, "The fun never stops."

The next morning after salting and burning Elizabeth's bones, we walked back into the motel exhausted. Sam had been reading a newspaper on our way in after grabbing a coffee.

Dean groaned as he took off his jacket, "Oh, another night at the office," He looked at me, "Why don't you take the first shower?"

"Listen to this," Sam read from the newspaper, "'A local man, Christopher Fisher, was ripped to shreds in a wild animal attack last night.'"

"It is a dangerous world out there," Dean flopped back onto his bed.

Sam sat down at the table, "He was in the restroom of a diner."

I took my jacket off and slung it over a chair, "Yeah, that doesn't sound right."

Sam nodded, "Apparently, uh, none of the patrons saw anything. Guy calls 911, screaming about a dog, but the operator didn't hear anything, either," He sat down and started typing on his laptop.

I hurried up and hopped in and out of the shower. By the time I came back out, Sam had found some more information on the guy.

"Wow," Sam said, scrolling through his laptop, "Looks like this guy had a history with dogs."

"Meaning?" Dean asked.

"Five years ago, he was arrested for running a dog-fighting operation," Sam said.

Dean stood up and joined Sam at the table, "Classy. Alright. So, what? He causes so much misery that some Rottweiler goes Cujo on him from beyond the grave?" He thought for a second, "Wait a second. Do— Do dogs even have ghosts?"

Sam shrugged, "First, I've heard of it."

"That sounds weird. Ghost dog?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "No weirder than ghost car, you know?"

Dean nodded, "You know what does make sense? Vengeance on the guy that Michael Vick'd you. I mean, I'm no one to judge, but it sounds to me like that guy had it coming."

"Maybe… But maybe not," Sam continued scrolling through his screen, "So, he got busted, got probation, started volunteering at an animal shelter."

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, 'cause he had to."

Sam nodded, "At first, yeah. But he kept going long after he served his time. Looks like he got really into it. Raised a lot of money for the cause," He turned the laptop around to show us an article title, Dog Shelter Thanks Volunteers for Efforts.

Dean nodded, impressed, "Huh."

Sam shrugged, "People change."

"Yeah, tell that to ghost dog," Dean said.

"Okay, hear me out on this one," I said, "So, we've got an ex-drunk who accidentally killed a little girl while driving drunk. He goes to AA, gets sober, and brings her flowers every month. He gets killed in a car crash. Now we have an ex-dogfighter who gets court-mandated to work with shelters but decides to help out for much longer than he was required to. He gets killed by a dog attack."

Dean nodded, "Right, we just went over all that."

I glared at him and then looked at Sam, "Obviously, they both tried to better themselves, right?" I asked, and he nodded, "You remember when Dean had ghost sickness?"

Sam nodded, "The spirit attached itself to people with similar personality types to the people that killed him.

I nodded, "Do you think it's possible a ghost could do the same kinda thing but attach itself to a person's guilt?"

Sam nodded, "I'm sure it's possible, but how do we figure out who would target people based on guilt? I mean, anyone could be a victim, and literally, anyone could be the ghost. It could just be a vengeful spirit."

"What about someone who was in law enforcement or even an actual judge?" I asked, "Trying to serve justice even after they're gone?"

Sam nodded, considering the idea, "Let's get suited up and go check out the body. Might get more clues from that."

Dean groaned and stood up.

"What?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean groaned, looking back at Sam with a frown, "What?"

Sam shook his head, "Nothing. I—"

I furrowed my brow at Dean, wondering why he was acting weird, "You okay?"

Dean sighed, "Peachy," He nodded, "Yeah, let's do this."

Dean and I waited outside of the coroner's office for Sam to come out with some news, Dean leaned against the Impala while I sat inside with the window open.

I moved over and rested my arms on the window sill, "Are you okay?"

Dean looked over at me, confused and hesitated before answering, "Yeah."

"Okay, you just seem a little on edge," I said.

He nodded, "Yeah, we just spent all night digging up a grave, and here we are with no rest."

"You just described our normal life, Dean," I said.

He shrugged, "I don't know, I guess I'm just extra tired today."

Sam walked out to us, "So, guess what I found. Red dirt. Under his nails. On his shoes, too."

"Just like the, uh, car-crash guy's floor?

Sam nodded, "Yeah. So, gotta be someplace around here, they both walked."

We did some more research, and I was able to figure out where in town would be the best place to look. I had Dean driving us to a local apple farm on the outskirts of town.

"An apple farm?" Dean asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, I guess whatever is in red dirt is good for the apples."

"Wow. I'd be so interested in that if I ate apples," Dean snapped.

"Hey, man. I'm just sharing the info," I said, "This farm is like ancient, it's supposed to be abandoned. But…" I cringed, "It's a few hundred acres."

"A few hundred?!" Dean yelled, "We're gonna be searching all year."

I shrugged, "Again… Just sharing the wealth of knowledge. Don't kill the messenger."

Sam smirked and chuckled.

Suddenly, an older man came running out of the field on the right side of the road, right in front of the Impala.

"Whoa!" Dean hit the brakes, and we all jumped out.

The man was out of breath and looked terrified.

"Hey. Uh… You okay?" Sam asked.

"Guy just jumped in front of a car, Sam," Dean said.

"Uh, you want us to help you, sir?" Sam asked.

The man was leaning over, breathing heavily.

"Okay, well, why don't we get you out of here before you get road-killed, huh?" Dean asked, putting his hand on the man's arm.

The man nodded, "Yeah."

Before we got him back to the motel, the most we could get out of the man was that his name was Warren.

Sam handed him a glass of water, "So, Warren. Just, uh, take a minute. Tell us what's going on."

Warren shook his head, "Look… You're good people, I can see that, but you can't do anything for me. No one can."

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"'Cause it's all impossible," Warren took a sip of water, "You won't even believe me."

"Well, try us," Dean said.

Warren hesitated, "I was just put on trial and sentenced to death."

Dean furrowed his brow, "What'd you do?"

Warren sighed, "Held up a liquor store. I killed the owner and his wife. I wasn't thinking. I was young."

"Young?" Dean asked, "When was this?"

"1981," Warren said.

"And they just put you on trial?" I asked.

Warren shook his head, "No, no, I just got out of prison."

Dean shook his head and stood up from his chair in annoyance, "Okay, you're making less sense the more you talk."

Sam also stood up and put his hand on Dean's arm to stop him and then turned to Warren, "No, it's okay. Just… Go on."

Warren sighed, "Did thirty years. I just got paroled. Not that you're ever free of that. I think about it every day."

"So, what were you running from?" I asked.

"Well, I told you… The trial!" Warren shouted and then shook his head, "All I know is, one minute I'm at the bar, and the next, I get jumped, wake up in a damn courtroom."

"Courtroom?" Dean furrowed his brow, "Like a… Courtroom?"

Warren shook his head, "Well, no. There was a judge. Everything was crazy. It was in a barn."

"At the apple farm?" Sam and I asked in unison.

Warren nodded, "Yeah."

"And this bar where you were grabbed?" Sam asked.

"Neal's Tavern," Warren said.

Sam turned to Dean and me, "Same place Matthew Hammond went before his… Car accident. Think maybe dog guy went there, too?" He asked.

I nodded and then turned back to Warren, "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

Warren raised his eyebrows, "You believe me?" He shook his head, "Who the hell are you?"

Sam shrugged, "We kind of… Specialize in crazy. So, uh, this judge… He got a name?"

Warren shook his head, "No. But there were these weird symbols."

"Symbols?" Sam asked, "Do you remember any of 'em? Can you draw them?" He grabbed a pen and paper and handed them to Warren.

"Excuse us a sec," Dean said and turned to Sam and me, "Can I talk to you?"

Sam and I followed Dean outside to the sidewalk and closed the door behind us.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "'What is it?' Guys, uh… How about a drunk driver, Michael Vick, a murderer?"

"And?" I asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "And… When did our black-and-white Case turn to mud? I'm just saying I'm having a hard time not rooting for the ghosts on this one."

Sam shook his head, "No, you said it yourself… It's not on us to judge."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, except that that's complete crap. Everybody judges all day long. Look, I'm just supposed to ignore what that guy did?"

"We've shot people, Dean…" Sam said, "More than two."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, you know what? When those ghosts come to kick my ass, they've got a compelling Case."

Sam furrowed his brow, "So, what, you're saying… What? You don't want to work the job anymore?"

Dean shrugged, "I'm just saying, you know, one simple friggin' day on the job… Is that too much to ask?"

Sam sighed, "Well, look. I'm gonna go out, I'm gonna go try and find that barn. Who's coming?"

I shrugged, "I'm in."

Dean shook his head, "I'm gonna check the bar."

I gave him a look, "To work or drink?"

Dean shrugged and smiled, "I haven't decided," Then he turned and walked away from us.

Sam sighed, and we walked back into the room.

"What's going on? Where'd he go?" Warren asked.

"He, uh…" Sam shook his head, "Everything's fine. Look, let's go back to that farm."

"Oh, no, no," Warren said, terrified, "No, I'm not going back."

"Warren, we need your help finding that barn," Sam said.

"It's red… It stands out. I'm not going back. They're out there," Warren said.

"Who?" I asked.

"The people I killed. I just— No. No!" Warren shouted.

Sam sighed, "You're safer with us than not."

Warren shook his head, "No."

I looked up at Sam, "Let's just put him in a salt circle, and you and I can go."

"Okay," Sam said and grabbed the piece of paper from Warren, "Fine."

I handed Sam a canister of salt from one of our bags, and we made a circle around a chair in the room.

Sam turned to Warren, "I need you to stay inside this circle until we get back, okay? It'll protect you."

"How?" Warren asked.

"Just trust us, okay?" Sam asked, "We're trying to help," He turned the TV on and tossed the remote to Warren, "Stay put," He pulled out his phone and made a call, "Bobby?" (…) "Hey. It's me," (…) "Listen… I'm having Maddi send you some symbols to look up," He opened the door and stepped out.

I turned to Warren before I followed after Sam, "Stay in that circle."

Sam and I made our way back out to the farm and stopped when we found the red barn Warren had described. We got out and entered the barn, immediately we saw the floor inside was covered in red dirt.

Sam's phone rang while we were looking around, so he put it on speaker, "Hey, Bobby, what do ya got?"

"Those chicken scratches… Definitely Egyptian. 'Book of the Dead.'" Bobby explained.

"So, good news, then," Sam said.

"They identify the God Osiris," Bobby said, "Real authoritarian type. He gets ahold of you, he's judge, jury, and executioner. Lore says that he can see directly into the human heart. He weighs the guilt. If he finds more than a feather's worth… Boom, you're done."

"So, what's he doing in Dearborn?" Sam asked.

Bobby sighed, "Well, it seems like he just pops up and does his circuit-judge act and then disappears again. That's all I got so far."

"You know what this means," Bobby said.

"Yeah," I said, "We've got to find him before he disappears again."

"No, idjits. It means you three got to get the hell out of Dodge. This guy hones in on people who feel guilty. Who does that sound like to you?"

Sam and I looked at each other and immediately started calling Dean. Then we ran out of the barn to the Impala.

Sam called Dean again, and he drove away from the barn, "Dude, third message. You better not be loaded. Call us. This is important," He hung up and then the phone rang right away. He answered it and clicked it on speaker.

"Dean," I said, "It's about time. We—"

"Uh, hello?" A woman's voice came through the phone.

"Who is this?" Sam asked.

"Oh, well, I just…" She said, "I picked this off the ground, where I've been standing for ten minutes listening to it ring. Is this Dean's phone?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well… He was supposed to meet me here," She said.

"Where are you?" Sam asked, "We can be right there."

We met a pretty blonde woman outside of Neal's Tavern.

"Uh, here it is," She handed Sam Dean's phone, "Uh, well, I hope he's okay."

"Now, where exactly did you find this?" Sam asked.

"Uh… There," She pointed to the ground.

Sam nodded, "Thanks," Then she walked away.

I knelt down near the spot she pointed to, and pinched a small pile of red dirt in my fingers and looked up at Sam.

Back at the barn, Sam and I walked in, holding shotguns. We snuck through the barn, following the sound of Dean and someone else talking.

"Oh, eavesdropping…" Dean scoffed, "That's cute."

"Speaking of…" The man said, "You gonna skulk all night, Sam, Maddison?"

Sam and I looked at each other and then walked through the doorway. A man was sitting on a beautiful throne, wearing ornate clothing, and holding a gold staff.

"Guys?" Dean asked. He was chained to a chair in front of a table.

"Nice job finding us. I assume you figured out who I am, too?" Osiris asked.

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

"You want to fill me in?" Dean asked.

"Osiris," Sam said.

"He's an Egyptian God," I added.

"Ta-da!" Osiris smiled and then waved us off, "Now, go about your business, kids."

"Look, if anyone should be on trial, it's me," Sam said.

"That's for me to decide. Now go away," Osiris said.

"But, uh…" I tried to think quickly, "Doesn't he have a right to an attorney?"

Osiris furrowed his brow, "Huh?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, let me defend him."

Osiris looked at us, confused, "Well, that's unusual."

"Are you gonna respect his rights or not?" Sam asked.

Osiris shrugged, "Why not?" He looked at me, "What's your part in this, Miss Winchester?"

"Um," I thought for a second, "I'm Sam's, uh, co-lawyer… Uh, yeah, that's a thing, right?" I asked and smirked, "Winchester and Winchester. Attorneys at Law."

Osiris nodded with a smirk, "Are either of you, even lawyers?"

"Well, I'm pretty stubborn and make good points sometimes. My brothers can attest to that… And Sam was pre-law," I said.

"Yeah, pre," Dean said.

Osiris shrugged, "Very well then. Not like I really care. Let's get started. Have a seat."

Sam and I sat down by Dean.

"Now, the list of witnesses I can call… Endless," Osiris said.

"Objection!" I shouted and raised my hand.

"You don't have to raise your hand," Sam whispered.

I slowly lowered my hand and shrugged at him.

"Are you gonna let me finish my sentence, Maddison?" Osiris asked.

I shook his head, "No. This isn't fair."

"Fair?" Osiris asked and shrugged, "I'm sorry. Moving on. I can make it very simple. Three witnesses."

"Objection!" Sam yelled.

Osiris raised his eyebrows, "Grounds?"

"Witness is being called without prior notice," Sam said.

"Good one," Dean nodded.

"I saw that on 'The Good Wife,'" Sam said.

Osiris nodded, "Yes. Very fine objection. Denied!"

"What? Why?" Sam asked.

"Because I'm the judge, son. Now stop objecting, or I'll find you in contempt…" Osiris said, "That is, kill you. So, I advise you to let me move it along. The prosecution calls Joanna Beth Harvelle to the stand."

Jo's ghost appeared in the seat next to him.

"Jo?" Dean asked.

"Dean. Sam. Maddi," She smiled at us, "Long time."

"State your name for the court," Osiris said.

"Jo Harvelle," She said.

"And… What is your relationship to Dean Winchester?" Osiris asked.

"We worked together," Jo said.

"Isn't it true that you admired him?" Osiris asked.

Jo shrugged, "Well, as a hunter… Yeah. As a guy, he was kind of a jerk," She looked at Dean, her eyes saying otherwise.

"So, you saw him as a mentor of sorts?" Osiris asked.

Jo shook her head, "I wouldn't put it like that."

Osiris furrowed his brow, "How would you put it?"

Jo shrugged, "I don't know. I trusted him. So, if you're trying to say that he was a bad guy or something—"

"Was it hard?" Osiris asked.

Jo looked at him in confusion, "What?"

"Working with him… Considering your feelings," Osiris said.

"No. What feelings?" Jo asked and then glanced at Dean.

"You would have done quite a bit for him… Followed him into any battle," Osiris said.

Jo nodded, "I know what you're getting at, and it's bull."

Osiris shrugged, "So Dean had nothing to do with your first Case, the one that started it all?"

She shook her head, "It wasn't like that."

Osiris raised his eyebrows, "No feelings. None at all. You would have chosen the same exact road. Ended up in that hardware store, holding the fuse."

"Oh, you're a piece of work. You know that?" Dean snapped, "Putting words in her mouth—"

Osiris gestured toward Dean, who gulped and closed his mouth, "Keep him under control, counsel… Or I'll remove his tongue," He gestured again, and Dean let in a deep breath, then he looked at Sam, "Your witness."

Sam stood up and walked over to Jo, "Jo. So, um… Your Dad… Was in the life?"

Jo nodded, "Yes, he was."

"And your relationship with him?" Sam asked.

Jo shrugged, "Good. I mean—"

"You idolized him," Sam said.

Jo shrugged, "Basically."

"So, why'd you start?" Sam asked, "To impress some loudmouth ass you just met… Or 'cause you wanted to be like your Dad?"

Jo nodded, "Daddy issues. Definitely," She looked at Dean, "Listen, Dean, I don't—"

Osiris flicked his hand, and Jo disappeared, "Alright. You three can have a Moment to strategize. And then I'll call my next witness," He gave Dean a look.

Sam sat down and whispered to Dean, "Alright. Who's the next witness? He looked at you like you'd know."

Dean shook his head, "I got no clue. This whole thing's like a friggin' episode of 'Pee-Wee's Playhouse.'"

"Next witness!" Osiris shouted, "The prosecution calls… Sam and Maddison Winchester to the stand."

"Um, that's two witnesses," I said.

Osiris shook his head, "I'm counting it as one… And if I do recall correctly… I make the rules," He gestured to the seats next to him.

Sam and I walked up to the stand and sat down.

"Sam… Not exactly the life you expected, is it?" Osiris asked.

Sam shrugged, "Details a little different."

"For a while there, you were gonna be a real lawyer. Marry Jess," Osiris said.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, that was a long time ago."

"But were you or were you not happily out of the family racket until Dean showed back up in that gas guzzler?" Osiris asked, and Sam glanced at Dean, "Ah… Ah," He waved his finger, "The truth, now."

"It's complicated," Sam said.

"That one act had quite a domino effect. Come back, your girl's dead," Osiris said.

"Well, that wasn't his fault," Sam said.

Osiris nodded, "Sure, and neither is everything that came after… All the death and the blood and hanging on by a thread. None of that is on Dean, directly," He shrugged, "But don't you think that your brother dragged you back into that catastrophic mess because he'd rather damn you with him than be alone?"

Sam looked at Dean, "No. One way or another, I'd have gotten pulled back in."

"You know that for certain?" Osiris asked.

Sam nodded, "Pretty sure."

Osiris raised an eyebrow at him, "Pretty sure."

"I'm positive," Sam said.

Osiris nodded, "Moving on… Maddison."

"Yup," I said.

Osiris smiled, "A few years back, you met your Mom—"

I shook my head, interrupting him, "Nope, this one is pointless."

Osiris chuckled, "What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes, "You're going to ask me if somehow what happened with my Mom is Dean's fault," I shrugged, "It's not. None of us could've known she was a complete psychopath. What happened is on her."

Osiris stared at me for a Moment, considering what I said, "Okay, well, let's talk about more recently then… After you were taken by demons, tortured, and subsequently forced to drink—"

I nodded, "Yeah, yeah, get to the point."

Osiris smirked, "Is it true that you told Dean that he and Sam should've found you sooner?"

I shook my head, "That's not what I said."

"Not entirely, but you implied it," Osiris said.

I shook my head, "I didn't mean that."

Osiris shrugged, "But the thought must have crossed your mind, no?"

"No. I was angry and exhausted… I had barely slept 'cause of the nightmares," I shrugged, "It was just something I said, and I didn't mean it," I looked at Dean, "You told me that you wanted me to know that you guys never stopped looking for me and I do know that. Knowing that was the only thing getting me through it," I looked back at Osiris, "I don't blame him."

Osiris nodded, "I believe you," He shrugged, "Hey if it was about convincing me, I would say—"

"What?" Sam interrupted.

"I don't decide anything, Sam. I don't decide Dean's guilt. I just weigh the guilt that's already there. This is solely about how Dean feels, way down deep. Them's the breaks," Osiris said.

"Wait. So, if Dean believes he's innocent, then he is?" Sam asked.

"If," Osiris pointed at him, "A big if. Why do I bring up the past? To see if he feels like dog food about it. People want to be judged. They really do. When your heart's heavy, let me tell you, real punishment's a mercy."

Sam looked at Dean, "I want to call Dean to the stand."

"Oh, you do, now?" Osiris asked, "There is an order to this stuff, you know," He thought for a second, "Okay. I'll allow it," He snapped his fingers and Dean's chains fell away.

Dean walked to the stand, and I took a seat while Sam stayed behind to question Dean.

"So, Dean. When you came and got me, did you know Jess would die? Or any of it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "'Course not."

Sam nodded, "Right. How could you?" Sam chuckled, "I mean, are you psychic?" Dean just stared at him, and Sam cleared his throat, "That's a question."

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "No. Uh, definitely not psychic."

"Great. So why would you feel guilty about not predicting the future?" Sam asked.

Dean thought about it for a second and then shook his head, "Yeah, I guess that doesn't make any sense. Actually, yeah, no, I don't."

"What about Jo? Did you actually kill her?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "Uh, no."

"Isn't it true that you don't feel guilty about her… That you're just… Sad she's dead? That it just… Blows?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "Actually… Maybe, yeah."

"And when Maddison was taken, did you just let it happen?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "No, I tried to save her."

Sam nodded, "Right, and isn't it true that you weren't aware what Crowley planned to do to her?"

Dean nodded, "I had no idea."

"So, is it possible that you aren't feeling guilty about what happened…. That it just sucks it did?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah… I was at a loss."

"You would've never stopped looking fir her, right?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "No, of course not."

Osiris shook his head, "Mhm. I like your style, Sam. Very engaging."

"Dean. Does any of this feel like it's really… On you?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "Not really."

"Then, is your heart heavy with guilt or… Just plain heavy and none of this guy's business?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "Uh, what you said… The second thing."

"Then I rest my Case," Sam said.

Osiris nodded, "Very good… All of you. Alright. Because I really enjoyed that, I'm gonna be generous and ask… Dean, do you want me to call my last witness?" He gave Dean a look like he knew something, Sam and I didn't, "Or have we had enough?"

Dean looked at Osiris nervously and then gave out a heavy sigh.

"What the hell's he talking about?" Sam asked.

"Enough Ally McBealing. Just drop the hammer, will ya?" Dean snapped.

Sam shook his head, frustrated, "Wait, Dean, he's giving us more time!"

"It's not gonna make a difference, Sam!" Dean shouted.

"You need another Moment? You done?" Osiris asked, and Dean shook his head. Then he banged his staff three times on the ground, "The court's reached a verdict. I find you, Dean Winchester, guilty in your heart… And sentence you to die. I'd suggest you get your affairs in order quickly."

We went back to the motel in disappointment, none of us talking to each other, but when we pulled up, there was an ambulance and police everywhere. We hurried into our room and saw that Warren was gone, and the salt line had been broken.

Sam shook his head, "Damn it, we told him."

Dean shrugged, "Osiris would have got to him one way or another. Guy's batting a thousand."

"There's still time. We can figure something out," Sam said.

We sat for a while, researching, trying to figure out anything that could help Dean. Sam had given Bobby a call to let him know what was going on.

About a half-hour later, Sam got a call, and he put it on speaker, "Bobby. What do you got?

"A way to give Osiris a dirt nap," Bobby said.

"Good. We need it," Sam said, looking at Dean, who was drinking a glass of whiskey.

"Now, as near as I can figure, it ought to put him down for a couple of centuries, at least. It's worked a few times since the Pharaohs were big," Bobby said.

"So, it's temporary?" I asked.

"Long temporary. I say we slap that band-aid on and leave finding a cure to some hunter in a spacesuit. Now, you're gonna need to stab him with a ram's horn," Bobby said.

"A ram's horn? Where are we gonna find a ram's horn in Dearborn?" Sam asked.

"No clue. But make sure it's a sharp piece. He ain't gonna let you stab him twice," Bobby said.

"Yeah. Thanks," Sam hung up and walked over to his laptop and started typing, "Ram's horn. Uh… Okay," He read a little, "Huh. Apparently, uh, Jewish people blow through them once a year."

"Where you gonna find one this time of night?" Dean asked.

I shrugged, "Synagogue?"

"You're gonna steal from a temple? Well, that's a new low," Dean drank some more whiskey.

"You're on death row, Dean. Quit joking around. Here," Sam held his hand out to Dean, "Keys," Dean handed him the keys and Sam looked at me, "You're coming with me, we need to get this thing as quick as possible, and I might need your help," He looked at Dean, "We'll be back."

"The dick's gonna sic Jo after me," Dean said.

Sam nodded, "You're a hunter, Dean. You know how to deal with ghosts."

"So, you suggesting I kill her again?" Dean asked.

"You didn't kill her to begin with, Dean," I said, then Sam and I turned and ran out of the door.

At the synagogue, it appeared as though no one was there, so we easily snuck in and found ourselves in the Rabbi's office. It was easy to find the horn, but as soon as we removed it from its pedestal, the lights went on. We turned around, and an older man was standing there looking very confused.

"I'm guessing you're not here for bar mitzvah lessons," He said, looking up at Sam.

Sam's eyes widened, "Uh…"

He looked at us, "I'm kind of at a loss here, kids. I'm going to have to call the police."

"Um, sir…" I said, "I know this is probably not going to make any sense to you, but we need this ram's horn," I looked at him very seriously, "I promise you we wouldn't be taking this from you if we didn't, but it's to save our brother's life."

The Rabbi looked Sam and me over for a minute and then nodded, "Go."

Sam and I took a sigh of relief and bolted out of the synagogue.

"Go to the bar," I said.

Sam furrowed his brow, "What? Why?"

"Where were you going to go?" I asked.

"The barn," He said.

"He needs a victim first, they've all come from the bar," I said.

Sam took off and went right to the bar without argument, and sure enough, when we got there, Osiris was struggling with a woman outside of the bar. Sam jumped out of the Impala and stabbed him with the ram's horn. Osiris's eyes changed to a blue light, and his face cracked as he fell to the ground.

After gathering Dean and our stuff, we left town and stopped by a river to eat and rest for a little bit. I sat cross-legged on the hood of the Impala while Sam and Dean leaned up against it drinking beer. Dean explained to us that after we left, Jo showed up. She said she stalled for as long as she could, so by the time we got to Osiris, she just vanished.

"So, uh, it seem like… You know, like… She was in pain?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "No. No, just kind of faded. Regular Jo. Actually, maybe a little happier," He took a sip of his beer, "I got a question. So, where the hell did that come from, volunteering to defend me?"

I shrugged, "He was going to kick us out, I had to say something."

Dean chuckled and looked at Sam, "In another life, you uh… You might have made a pretty decent scuzzbag."

Sam laughed, "I'm O for one, Dean."

Dean shook his head, "Ah, it's not your fault. You were pretty convincing."

"So, who was he talking about?" Sam asked.

"Who?" Dean asked, acting confused.

"The final witness thing," I said.

Dean shook his head, "No idea. Honestly, that could be just about anybody dead, we know. By the way… I mean, I get why Judge Judy put me on trial… I got guilt coming out of my pores," He shook his head, "Why'd he skip you guys?"

I shrugged, "The only person I've ever felt guilty about killing proved to be a monster anyway, so I got over it."

Sam nodded and shrugged, "I think I just don't… Feel guilty anymore."

Dean scoffed, "Come on."

Sam shrugged, "Look, I don't know what to tell you, Dean. I mean, I've spent a lot of time feeling pretty crappy… Like, my whole life."

"What, you got a secret stash of happy pills?" Dean asked.

"Hell," Sam said. Dean gave him a look, and Sam shrugged, "Look, I'm not saying it's logical. I just… You know, I feel like I did a lot of stuff I should have felt bad for, and then I paid a lot of dues and came out the other side, you know?"

Dean furrowed his brow, "And that worked? I mean, you really feel like your— your slate's wiped?"

Sam shook his head, "No. Nothing ever gets wiped," He shrugged, "You know? Sometimes I see Lucifer when I friggin' brush my teeth, but I don't know, I guess I just finally feel like… My past is my past, and I can move on with my life. You know, hopefully."

Dean nodded, "Easier said than done."

"Not arguing that," Sam said.

"Well, I don't know whether to be, uh, jealous or weirded out," Dean said.

Sam chuckled, "You'll get used to it. I mean, I don't want to sound lame, but… I kind of feel good, Dean." Then he got into the car.

"Well, you are going to be a pleasure to ride with," Dean chuckled and then looked at me, "You okay? Looks like you got something on your mind."

I shrugged, "I don't know. I feel like a bad person because I really don't want to tell Nate about Jo."

He shook his head, "Why wouldn't you tell him?"

I furrowed my brow, "Would you want to know that some God was using mine or Sam's spirit to mess with someone else you care about?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, "I guess I didn't think about it like that… Yeah… He doesn't need to know."