"Wake up, gorgeous," Someone whispered in my ear.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself back in Crowley's lab with the demon staring at me, a smile creeping across its face.
"Good morning, sunshine. It's been a while," He stepped closer to me, "You haven't forgotten about me, right?"
I just stared at him, not wanting to say anything.
"You still need me," He smiled.
I shook my head, "No, I don't want to do that anymore. It's messing with my head."
He chuckled, evilly, "No, you don't get to choose. You've had a taste, and you know you can't escape it, not now."
I shook my head, "Sam said he would help me get through it if I couldn't by myself."
"Oh," He shrugged, "You mean, this, Sam?" He stepped aside, and a light shone down on Sam, he was tied up and gagged, and it looked like someone he had been bludgeoned.
I shut my eyes and shook my head, "This isn't real. This isn't real."
The demon grabbed me by my throat, "Oh, it's real darlin'." I could feel his fingers gripping into my neck, causing fear to spike through me, wondering if maybe it was, in fact, real. The demon stepped to the side again and held my head toward Sam, "Look at him."
Sam stared at me with pain and fear in his eyes.
"That is your fault," The demon said, "You won't do what you're told."
"Screw you," I hissed at the demon.
"Not enough for you, huh?" He asked as he walked up to a table and picked up a large knife.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Teaching you a lesson," He walked behind Sam, "This is what will happen if you don't listen to me," He said and then slit Sam's throat.
"No, no, no!" I screamed as I watched blood begin to gurgle out of Sam's neck. The fear and pain in his eyes slowly drifted into nothing as the life left them. "Sam!" I cried.
The demon laughed, "Maddi…" He paused, "Maddi!" Then his voice morphed into Sam's, "Maddison!"
I sat up with a gasp, my eyes snapped open to see Sam sitting on my bed, looking worried.
"Sam?" I asked, my voice cracking and tears rolling down my cheeks.
"You're shaking, are you okay?" He asked as he pulled me into a hug.
"I watched you die," I cried.
"It was just a dream," He comforted me, "I'm here."
I sat in his arms for a couple minutes and then pulled away, taking in a deep breath, "I'm gonna take a shower," I stood up and walked off into the bathroom.
After I calmed down and finished showering, I got ready and walked out to join Sam at the table.
"You okay?" Sam asked, looking concerned.
I nodded, "Yeah, I'm good."
"You wanna hear about a Case I found?" He asked.
"Yeah, go for it," I said.
Sam nodded and scrolled on his laptop, "Alright, so Lily Dale, New York. Two deaths, both claimed to be psychic…"
I shrugged, "Lily Dale is the most 'psychic'…" I air quoted, "Town in America."
Sam chuckled and nodded, "How did you know that?"
"I'm weird," I shrugged.
Sam chuckled, "Well, the first victim, Imelda Graven, was killed by her own crystal ball… Bludgeoned to death. The second victim, Grandma Goldy… She was using a spirit board with some customers when she got a planchette to the neck."
"Whoa, that sucks," I shrugged, "So, we're going, right?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah, I want to."
"Can, uh…" I hesitated, "Can I work the Case with you?"
He stood up, "Like go to the crime scene and everything?" I nodded with a smile. He thought for a second as he walked over to his bag, "I don't see why not, but we have to grab you something to wear, and you have to let me do the talking."
I nodded eagerly, "Okay, yeah, no problem."
After picking up a black pantsuit for me, I got dressed, and we made our way over to Grandma Goldy's house. When we walked in, we walked up to the chief of police and flashed our badges.
"Agent Mulder," Sam said and then gestured to me, "And Agent Scully… FBI."
The chief furrowed his brow at me, "Pretty young to be an agent."
Sam chuckled, "Yeah, she's in training…" He cleared his throat, "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
The chief nodded, and then I walked off into the room where Goldy had died. It was set up with a clothed table in the center of the room with chairs around it like she was hosting seances. Blood was sprayed across the tablecloth next to an Ouija board and some candles.
I walked around to the head chair and pulled the tablecloth back to reveal a small speaker. On the floor beneath the chair was a small box with a lever. I pushed it, and low, mumbling voices started echoing around various speakers in the room.
I shook my head, but when I moved to stand up, I noticed a button on the chair, so I pushed it. Immediately, wind started blowing the curtains on the window right next to the table.
"Wow," I scoffed. I rolled my eyes and moved to pull the tablecloth back down when I noticed a spring-loaded lever under the table. It had been perfectly placed for someone to move it with their knee. I pressed it, which made it sound like someone knocked on the table.
"Find anything?" Sam asked as he walked up to me.
I nodded and pulled the cloth back over the table, "Yeah… A lotta tricks."
Sam nodded, "I'm not surprised," He shook his head, "I don't know how some of these people can go to bed at night."
I sighed, "Yeah, some of 'em suck," I shrugged, "But at the same time, I can imagine that some of their clients do get some sort of comfort from it."
Sam scoffed, "Yeah, but taking money from people who are mourning over their loved ones?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I know, but people pay for therapy too," I shrugged, "Kinda goes along the same lines if it helps the person."
Sam thought about it for a second and nodded, "Yeah, I can see that."
As Sam and I walked down the sidewalks, searching for somewhere to eat and discuss the Case, we noticed, basically, every other shop was someone selling all different types of readings. The sidewalk had tables and chairs all along it, a bunch of people were getting tarot card readings, palm readings, and crystal ball readings. Then we finally stumbled upon a café called Good Graces, out front was a poster for the Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival featuring Imelda Graven (Crystal Ball), Grandma Goldy (Talking Board) and Nikolai Lishin (Kinetic Mind). We entered the café to see a smiling face of a waiter, at the back was a blackboard that read, Special of the Day: You! and Soup of the Day: A State of Bliss.
"Hello! First time at Good Graces?" The waiter asked us with a smile.
Sam nodded, "Yes."
"Well, we're 100% locally sourced, biodynamic, and you get a free affirmation with every order," The waiter smiled.
I furrowed my brow at Sam, not sure how I felt about the place, but he nodded at the waiter, "Sounds great."
The waiter nodded, "Right this way," He turned and led us to a table and set menu's down in front of us, "I'll be back for your orders in a Moment."
"Uh, actually, I'll just have a coffee, black, extra shot," Sam said.
The waiter nodded, "You are nourished and supported by mother earth." Sam nodded uncomfortably, and then the waiter looked at me, "Anything for you?"
"Uh, yeah, I'll have chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon and…" I flipped my menu over to look at the drinks, "A green tea."
The waiter nodded as he wrote it down and then smiled at me, "You are a powerful, magnificent being of light."
"Uh, thank you…" I said, not knowing what to say.
He nodded again and walked off.
"Hopefully, he's done with the affirmations for the day," I said.
Sam chuckled and pulled out the Case file, "Alright, so check this out," He turned the pictures of Imelda and Goldy, "Notice anything?"
I analyzed the pictures for a Moment, "Same necklace."
Sam nodded, "Apparently, Imelda gave it to Goldy in her will."
"Hmm," I shrugged, "Could be a cursed object."
Sam nodded, "I mean, that's what I was thinking."
The waiter brought us our order and walked off.
"You always wear a suit to get your palm read?" Dean asked as he appeared over the half-wall next to our table.
Sam and I looked at him without saying anything. I was excited to see him, but I also completely understood why Sam was upset about what he had done.
He looked at me, "What are you supposed to be, Nancy Drew?"
I scoffed, "Alright, Inspector Clouseau, we're working here. What do you want?"
Dean frowned at that comment and then sighed, "Yeah. Not surprised you caught this one. It's on every morning zoo in America," He walked around the corner of the wall and gestured at our table, "You mind?"
Sam shrugged noncommittally, and Dean pulled up a chair to sit at our table opposite the wall. Sam pulled our Case file onto his lap.
"So…" Dean said, "I, uh, I went to the scene. Wires, speakers, enough E.M.F. to make your hair stand up," He shook his head, "Don't even think about getting a reading," He nodded, " Oh, and, uh, if this hadn't have been two psychics that bit it…" He shrugged, "I would have just chalked this up as being, uh, dumb and accidental. And I know, I know. This whole town's supposedly calling ghosts. But that takes some serious spell work and some serious mojo. The only books this lady had were Oprah crap. When was the last time you actually saw a real psychic? Huh?" He raised his eyebrows, "Pamela? Missouri? Anyway, this…" He sighed and gestured to us, "Is good. And, uh, how you been?" He asked as he reached for a piece of my bacon, I responded with an immediate slap of his hand. He nodded, "That good, huh?"
Our waiter walked up to him, "And what can I get for you?"
"Uh, pancakes, side of pig," Dean nodded, "Coffee, black."
"Fantastic. You are a virile manifestation of the divine," Our waiter smiled and then walked away.
Dean furrowed his brow, "What the hell did he say to me?"
Sam scoffed, shook his head, and took a sip of coffee.
"Oh, it's funny?" Dean shook his head, "Yeah, no. Go ahead. Laugh it up, Sam. Hilarious."
Sam took a deep breath, "Dean…"
Dean nodded, "Oh, he speaks."
Sam sighed, "Look…"
"Sam," Dean said, "Look, we're all here. Alright, the chance of any of us leaving while people are still dying out there—" He made a "zero" sign with his hand and clicked his tongue, "You might as well bite the bullet and work with me on this one."
Sam shrugged, "I don't know if I can."
Dean shook his head, "I'm not asking you to open up a can of worms, okay, I'm not even asking you where the hell you two have been for the past week and a half."
Sam nodded, "Good."
Dean paused and then chuckled slightly, "I'm just saying, let's try and stop the killings. That's it."
Sam nodded, "Okay."
"Okay?" Dean asked and then looked at me, "Okay?"
I shrugged, "I'm just along for the ride," I said and took a bite of bacon.
"Good," Dean nodded.
A woman stopped next to our table and stared at us.
"Can I help you?" Dean asked.
She pointed at us, "You're the family from the—"
"Oh, no, no, no, no," Sam chuckled, "The Winchester's on the news a couple weeks back?" He shook his head, "No— We get that a lot."
Dean chuckled, "Yeah, no. Those depraved killers got put down like the dogs that they were. Us, on the other hand, we're completely harmless," He winked at her.
The woman paused and then started laughing, "Oh, yeah! I'm sorry. Silly me. And I can see by your energies, you're completely gentle."
A man walked up and put his hand around her waist, "Excuse my friend," He said in his Russian accent, "She's excitable. Sweetheart, look at them, hmm?" He asked her, "They're FBI."
She looked at us, inquisitively, "Oh!"
The man nodded at Dean, "I'm Russian. We can spot the law. You must be here about the tragedies."
The woman shook her head, "Oh, we're just beside ourselves about what happened."
Dean nodded, "Yeah. And so close to festival season, huh?"
The woman nodded, "Yeah—" Then she realized what he said and shook her head, "No—"
"Of course, we are worried. We have no idea what's going on, huh?" The man took out a business card and handed it to Sam, "Nikolai. Let me know if I can help you. I'm highly intuitive."
Sam read the card, "Nikolai Lishin, spoon bender?"
Nikolai nodded, "Mm. World-famous," He picked up Sam's spoon, "Come to my demonstration at the festival, huh?" He made a hand motion over the spoon and grunted, "I teach you to harness the power of your mind," He put down the spoon in the exact same shape he picked it up in and looked down at the woman, "Come, let's leave them be." Then he and the woman walked off.
"So glad we decided to vacation here, huh?" Dean asked, "Right?"
Sam cleared his throat and put our Case file back on the table, "Alright. Here we go. First death…" He opened the file to the pictures of the two women, "Second death." Then slid the file over to Dean.
"What am I looking at?" Dean asked.
"Well, see this?" Sam asked and pointed at Imelda, "Now, this is Imelda Graven, death number one. She was brained by her own crystal ball."
"Bummer, and ironic," Dean chuckled, he looked closer at both of the images, "Same necklace?"
I nodded, "Imelda gave it to Goldy in her will."
Dean shrugged, "Okay, so, cursed object, maybe?"
I nodded, "We already thought of that."
Dean made a face at me.
"Yeah, and it's our next step," Sam said, "Goldy's next of kin lives in town, also a psychic."
Dean raised his eyebrows, "Oh, good. I haven't had my fill."
Sam poured some sugar into his coffee and picked up his spoon, which immediately bent, he stared at it in disappointment, "He broke my spoon," He tossed it on the table in annoyance.
We walked up to Melanie Golden's house, Goldy's next of kin, right as her front door opened, and two women stepped out.
"Melanie Golden?" Dean asked them, and one of the women nodded, "Hi. Uh… Got a minute?"
The three of us held up our badges. It made me feel so official and excited, but I kept my cool.
Melanie's friend turned to her, "You want me to stay?"
Melanie shook her head, "No, that's okay."
Melanie's friend nodded, and then the two women embraced.
Melanie pulled away, "Thanks for stopping by, hon."
"Of course," The friend said and then walked past us.
"A friend," Melanie gestured to the other woman, "She just heard about my grandmother… Which is, I guess, why you guys are here, so come on in." She gestured for us to follow her around, "Sorry. I just got back." She said, referring to the bags and boxes in her living room.
"You were out of town?" Dean asked.
Melanie nodded, "Yeah, I work the circuit— Hotels, conventions, you know."
Dean shook his head, "Oh. Wait. No offense, but… You don't seem all that psychic."
"Why do you say that?" Melanie asked.
Dean shrugged, "Well, I mean, just, you know, where's all the… Crystals and pyramids?"
"I'm off the clock. Also, not psychic," Melanie nodded and then saw our faces and shrugged, "What? It's an honest living."
Dean smirked, "Interesting definition of 'honest.'"
"Well, I honestly read people. It's just less whoo-whoo…" She shrugged, "More body language. Like you three… Long-time partners, but, um… A lot of tension." She gestured to Sam and Dean, "Mostly, between you two, but she gestured to me, "You're worried," She gestured to Sam, "You're pissed," She gestured to Dean, "And you're stressed," She shrugged, "It's not brain surgery. It's kind of why my grandma and me didn't get along. I mean, she'd go full smoke-machine, but she still actually believed in all that stuff, so…"
Dean raised his eyebrows, "You don't?"
"You do?" Melanie asked.
Dean shrugged, "I've got an open mind. You'd be surprised."
"Hmm," Melanie smiled, and she and Dean stared at each other for a long Moment.
Sam cleared his throat, "I'm sorry to have to ask, b— but there's a necklace of your grandmother's—"
Melanie shook her head, "Don't have it. Everything went straight to the Emporium. She had a deal with the owner."
"The Emporium?" Sam asked.
The three of us walked into the Emporium and up to the front desk, where a man sat behind the counter with a dirty white tank top and an old brown cardigan on.
The man put down his coffee and gave us a look, "Mmm. Mmm. You're looking… For something."
"Wow," I smirked, "You're good."
The man nodded with a smile at me.
"You Jimmy Tomorrow?" Sam asked.
The man nodded, "Mhm."
"We're looking for a necklace," Sam said.
Jimmy nodded, "Oh. Romantic."
"It would have come in with Grandma Goldy's effects," Sam put down the picture of Imelda on the counter and pointed to the necklace she was wearing.
Jimmy nodded, "Oh. Yes, yes. Now, you do know that this is the Orb of Thessaly."
Dean shook his head, "We did not know."
Jimmy stood up and picked up a large metal box and put it on the counter, "Very powerful, very rare," He said as he opened the box.
Dean nodded, "Let me guess. Very expensive."
"Worth every penny," Jimmy smiled and pulled out the necklace.
"Well, in that Case…" Dean said, and the three of us pulled out our badges, "We'll be taking the states evidence discount."
"What's going on?" Jimmy asked in disappointment.
"A murder investigation that we'd like to personally thank you for not obstructing," Sam reached to take the necklace, but Jimmy grabbed his wrist.
"You know, I give private energetic readings," Jimmy said.
Sam pulled away, with the necklace in hand, "No, thanks."
"A loss weighs on you. You're angry. It's complicated," Jimmy nodded, "Come see me, Agent." He picked up a card and handed it to him.
Sam took the card and tucked it into his jacket, looking annoyed, and then turned toward the door.
"Thanks, Jimmy. We'll see you," Dean smiled with a nod, and then we followed after Sam.
"The bureau's gonna reimburse me for the necklace, right?" Jimmy called after us.
Dean nodded, "Oh, we'll send you a check."
Out on the sidewalk, Sam was examining the necklace as he waited for us to join him.
"Went a little 'Mentalist' on you there, didn't he?" Dean asked Sam as we joined him. Sam glanced at Dean but didn't answer, so Dean nodded, "Alright. Next question. What's an Orb of Thessaly?"
"I know one thing… It's made in Taiwan," Sam said and tossed the necklace to Dean.
"Oh, a fake, around here," Dean said as he caught the necklace, "Imagine that. 'Course, that means that whatever's killing mediums is still out there."
The next morning, Sam got a call from the police department and called Dean to meet us at an apartment building where another murder happened. We quickly figured out that the victim was the spoon bender, Nikolai, that we had met the day before. When we walked into his apartment, there were cops everywhere, and on the glass coffee table was a large pool of blood with silverware scattered around it.
"He probably should have bent those with the power of his mind," Dean said, pointing to the silverware on the floor. Sam and I both gave him an unamused look.
"Chief," Sam said as we walked up to the police chief, "We met at Grandma Goldy's house."
The chief nodded, "Right. Morning, Agents."
"Morning. Uh, this is Agent Borne," Sam gestured to Dean, "So, what happened?"
The chief shrugged, "It's a weird one. Chest full of cutlery."
Dean nodded, "Alright. We're gonna take a look around. Let us know if you get any leads."
"Oh, I got leads coming out of my ass," The chief said before we turned away, "As of 9 o'clock, our tip line had 46 calls, all from clairvoyants that know what really happened."
"What's the popular theory?" Dean asked.
"It's a toss-up between a ghost and some sort of ogre that only attacks Russians," The chief said.
Dean nodded, "Policing Lily Dale sounds fun."
The chief shrugged, "It was either this or Los Angeles."
"So, these clairvoyants, did they give any details as to why they thought it was a ghost?" Sam asked, "Or a… Russian ogre?"
"Their spirit monkey said so," The chief rolled his eyes, "Plus, apparently, this guy claims he had a vision of his own death, cutlery and all."
Dean's cell phone rang, and he pulled it out, "Excuse me," He said and then walked away to answer the call.
After Dean got off the phone, we hurried over to Melanie's to see what was wrong. She promptly let us in and led us into her living room to sit as we talked.
Melanie was holding her landline phone, anxiously, "I hadn't checked it until today. I mean, the only person who ever called my landline was my grandma."
Sam nodded, "That's okay. Go on."
Melanie sighed, "Look, I wouldn't put any stock in it. I mean, she was always calling me with some crazy dream she was sure was a sign, that kind of thing, but… Uh, is it true Nikolai had a real vision of his death?"
Dean nodded, "That's what we were told."
Melanie nodded, "Well, so did she… The day she died."
"What'd she say?" Dean asked.
Melanie put her phone down on the table toward us, "Well, you can listen to it if you want. She said she was in a séance, then the lights go, it's freezing."
"Wait, she said that?" Sam asked, "That the room got cold?"
"Yeah. Why? Is that important?" Melanie asked.
Sam, Dean, and I looked at each other, knowing what it meant.
"What? What is it?" Melanie asked.
"A ghost," Dean said bluntly, "The real deal."
"Come on," Melanie said, but looked at our faces again, "You're serious."
Dean nodded, "Yeah. See, there's, uh, fake whoo-whoo crap. And there's real whoo-whoo crap."
"Well, yeah, but…" Melanie shrugged and raised her eyebrows, "Ghosts?"
"Oh, trust me," Dean nodded, "There's a lot weirder out there than that."
"So, 'The X-files' is real, or you just stopped talking like an FBI agent," Melanie said.
"Well, um…" Sam paused, "We're not FBI agents."
Melanie stared at us for a Moment, "I need a drink."
Dean nodded, "I support that."
After we finished up with Melanie, we walked out to Dean's car.
"You know, if this is a spirit, it ain't your average spook tied to a house. I mean, this thing is boogieing all over town," Dean said.
Sam nodded, "Not surprised," He gestured to two signs across the street for psychic readings, "I mean, how many crystal balls do you figure there are in Lily Dale?"
"Somewhere between fifty and, uh, all of them," Dean said as we stood at our doors.
"Well, I mean, quartz can act as an antenna for spirits, right?" Sam asked.
I nodded, "That's why mediums started using crystal balls in the first place," I shrugged, "So, pretty much everyone that owns one and definitely every storefront in town is a beacon for ghosts.
Sam nodded, "Exactly. And this place is packed with people summoning spirits."
"Yeah, but most of these guys can't even call a taxi," Dean said.
Sam shrugged, "All it takes is one."
Dean scoffed, "That's gonna be like looking for a needle in a stack of fake needles."
"It's worse," Sam said, "I mean, I'll bet you anything some of these guys got real juice. I'm not talking kill-people level. I'm just saying, enough to make it complicated."
Dean shook his head, "I hate this town. Alright, so…" He opened his door, "What? Start hitting up the Miss Cleos?"
"I was thinking split up and canvass. It's faster," Sam said and quickly walked away.
Dean nodded, "Right. 'Course you were."
I shrugged, "Guess I'm stuck with you, then."
Dean raised his eyebrows, "Stuck with me? Wow, you really know how to make me feel special."
I smirked and winked at him before getting into the passenger seat.
We searched around the town for a little bit with no luck, until Dean got a phone call from Melanie to meet her at her friend's house. When we got there, we walked up to the door with Melanie, who rang the doorbell and then her friend answered the door shortly after.
"Camille, it's okay," Melanie said, "Like I said on the phone, they can help."
Camille turned around and led us into her house, "Phony lawmen, huh?"
Dean nodded, "Yeah, 'cause nobody can relate to phony around here."
Camille looked at Dean, "Well if you can do something, I don't care if you call yourself the Pope."
"Alright. What happened, exactly?" Dean asked.
"What happened is, I had a friggin' vision," Camille said, terrified, "Something is coming for me."
"Did you see what it was?" I asked.
"No. But I sure felt it when it started breaking my bones," Camille shook her head, her voice cracking, "I don't want to die."
Dean nodded, "Okay. We'll figure it out. The vision happened in here?"
"Yeah, by the Cash box," Camille pointed to a desk behind us with a metal box on it.
We walked up to the table, and my eye line traveled up to a mask on the wall, inside one of the eyes looked like a camera lens.
I pointed it out to Dean, "Is that a camera?"
He looked at it for a Moment and then turned to Camille, "There any chance good-lookin' was watching?" He asked, gesturing to the mask.
Camille pulled the mask down and got it hooked up to a monitor, then the four of us sat and watched the footage. It showed Camille walk across the room with the Cash box in her hands, and then the picture cut out for a second.
"What was that?" Camille asked, pointing at the screen.
Dean backed up the footage and replayed it slowly. When the frame cut out, you could see a ghostly woman standing just outside of the room behind Camille.
Melanie gasped, "What the hell?!"
The ghost quickly walked up behind Camille almost as if the footage was skipping, she was moving so fast.
"Oh, my God," Melanie watched in horror.
Then the ghost put her hands on Camille's head, and Camille's eyes turned white. Dean paused the footage.
"Oh, my God!" Camille shouted.
Melanie shook her head, staring at the screen, "W— Was that I mean, an actual—"
Dean nodded, "Bonafide. Yeah. Well, no offense, but nobody's having psychic visions around here. This, uh…" He pointed at the screen, "Spirit, whoever she is, is giving them out."
"And then killing people?" Camille asked.
Dean nodded, "Until we stop her. Well, the good news is you said you saw a clock and it read 2AM., so that gives us a little time. Now, does anybody recognize this chick?"
"You know, I swear I've seen her, like in a painting or something," Melanie said, staring at the screen.
"A painting?" Dean asked, "Like, a—"
Melanie shook her head, "No, not a painting. In one of those old photos in the museum."
So, we met up with Sam and headed over to the Lily Dale Museum of Curiosities. We looked around inside, and we were joined in the room by a group taking a tour.
The guide walked in and gestured around the room, "Lily Dale has long been a haven for the psychically gifted. Tortured elsewhere, they're embraced here. My own family has a modest natural gift. We also celebrate our long and colorful history of… Embellishers." People in the group chuckled. Then the guide gestured to a display Case in the middle of the room that had a weird cloud-like greenish-gray substance in it, "Ectoplasm illusion, circa 1890."
Sam rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, and Dean and I followed behind. Sam was standing there, staring at a wall of old pictures of sibling psychics.
"Never ended well for the siblings," The guide said as he walked up behind us.
"Why is that?" Dean asked.
The guide shrugged, "Mm, the strain of working together, or maybe just being around each other all their lives," Those two were the exception, actually—" He pointed to a picture labeled, The Mystifying Campbell Brothers. "The Campbells. Got along famously. Of course, that was just a stage name. They weren't actually brothers. That was a cover for their, um…" He smiled and nodded, "Alternative lifestyle. Any other questions I can answer?"
"Yes. Who are they?" Sam asked as he pointed to a picture of two women, one of which was the ghost we saw.
"Oh, the Fox sisters…" The guide nodded, "Among the founders of Lily Dale. Kate Fox…" He pointed to the woman we were actually curious about, "Quite troubled, apparently, but mesmerizing onstage. She's said to be able to levitate objects and foretell one's death."
"That's her," Dean whispered to Sam and me.
"Her older sister, Margaret…" The guide paused, "Perhaps not a natural psychic."
Dean nodded, "So, full of crap."
"Yes, well…" The guide nodded, "She didn't have her sister's charisma, but she looked after Kate. Sometimes, one's true gift is taking care of others."
"So, what happened to them?" Dean asked.
"Lived here all their lives," The guide said.
"Lived here and died here?" I asked.
The guide nodded, "Yes, well… Buried in the cemetery."
Sam nodded, "Great. That was very educational. Thank you," He nodded at Dean and me, "Guys." Then he turned and left.
As Dean and I turned to follow after Sam, the guide put his hand on Dean's arm, "I'm sorry, I don't normally do this during business hours, but do you know an Eleanor… Or an Ellen?" Dean and I looked at each other. The guide furrowed his brows, "She seems quite concerned about you. She wants to tell you—" He chuckled, "Pardon me— If you don't tell someone how bad it really is, she'll kick your ass from beyond. You have to trust someone again, eventually." He let go of Dean and chuckled, "Anyway, don't forget to visit the gift shop." He smiled and turned away.
"What the hell was that?" I asked Dean.
He shook his head, "I don't know," He put his hand on my back and gently pushed me toward the direction Sam went, "This town is freaky."
We met Sam outside at the bottom of the museum steps.
"Alright," Sam said and turned as soon as we reached him to start walking again, "Hit up the graveyard, dig up, Kate?"
"Alright. Wait a second," Dean said.
"All signs point to her, Dean," Sam said as he continued walking.
Dean shook his head, "No. Just hold on a damn minute." Sam stopped to face him, and Dean shook his head, "Enough with 'just the facts.'"
Sam rolled his eyes, "We agreed—"
"No, we agreed to work the Case," Dean interrupted, "We didn't agree for you to be a dick the whole time."
"What?" Sam scoffed.
"You're pissed, okay?" Dean nodded, "And you've got a right."
Sam nodded, "Yeah, damn straight."
"But enough's enough," Dean raised his voice.
"Says who?" Sam snapped, "Look, I'll work this damn Case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend," He turned and started walking away.
Dean followed after him, "No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn't know her, you'd have done the same thing."
"I did know her, Dean!" Sam shouted.
Dean nodded, "Yeah, which is why you couldn't do it," Sam stopped walking, and Dean sighed, "Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can't."
Sam turned to face Dean, fury all over his face, "Don't pull that card! That's bull. Look, if I've learned one thing, it's that if something feels wrong, it probably is!"
Dean nodded, "Usually, yeah," He shook his head, "But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn't do it, so I did. That's what family does… The dirty work. And I woulda told you, eventually, once I knew that this whole 'waving a gun at Satan' thing was a one-time show. I think it's reasonable to want to know that you're off the friggin' high dive, Sam. You almost got all three of us killed, so you can be pissed all you want, but quit being a bitch," He looked at Sam and then walked off.
Sam stood there angrily, his jaw tightening and untightening. I patted his side and then followed after Dean.
At the graveyard, Dean and I stood outside, shining our flashlights down as Sam continued to work on his part of the dig.
"I get why she's killing people," Sam grunted as he threw a pile of dirt out, "I don't get why she's warning them."
"Have we considered that maybe she isn't killing them?" I asked, "I mean, the guy at the museum said she could 'foretell one's death.' Maybe she is honestly warning them."
Dean shrugged, "Or maybe she is just crazy and wants to give them a taste of the curse? It couldn't have been a joyride."
Sam finished digging and climbed out of the hole, "Here we go."
Dean poured lighter fluid over the body, while I poured salt, and Sam got his match ready. Suddenly, Kate materialized next to Sam and rushed him, sending him falling back onto the ground.
"Sam!" Dean shouted and then turned his attention to Kate, who was now focused on us, "Back off crazy eyes."
"Listen to me. Why isn't anybody listening?" Kate asked, upset.
Dean held up his lighter and tried to light it, but it didn't work.
"Dean, wait," I grabbed his arm, actually curious about what she had to say.
He looked at me but ignored me and tried to light it again, but it still didn't work.
"No!" Kate yelled.
"You don't get a vote," Dean said, trying to light his lighter.
"No! Stop!" Kate yelled and charged at Dean and me, but Sam tossed a lit match into the grave just in time, and she burst into flames right before she reached us, "No!"
"Nice timing," Dean said to Sam.
Once we reburied the grave and got everything packed up, Dean called Melanie on the drive to let her know that everything had been taken care of. Only for her to call back about twenty minutes later.
"Melanie?" Dean answered his phone, confused. (…) "What's going on?" (…) "Wait, what do you mean it's—" (…) "Alright. Listen to me. Calm down."
Sam sighed, "Dean, just give me the phone and drive," He took the phone from Dean in frustration and put it up to his ear, "Melanie? Hey. Get to the kitchen." (…) "Alright, just go. Get salt." (…) He paused for a while, waiting for something to happen, and then nodded, "Find iron. Is there a fireplace?" He paused, "Melanie!"
We rushed to Camille's house and found Melanie crying as she ran out of the house. Dean jumped out of the car, and Melanie immediately started crying into his arms.
We brought Melanie back to her house and waited down in her living room for her to clean up and make sure she was okay.
"Should have known that whole 'good sis, bad sis' story was just showmanship crap," Dean paced, "Oh, and it turns out that Kate was just trying to warn people about her evil bitch sister."
"Well, maybe if you guys listened to me!" I yelled and shook my head, "I don't just say stuff like that for fun."
Dean nodded, "I know, and I'm sorry, but we burned Kate's bones, so that's gone."
"Guys," Sam said.
"What?" Dean asked.
"All we can do now is go stop her," Sam said.
Dean shook his head, "That's not good enough, by a mile."
Sam nodded, "I know. Believe me. But—" He hesitated and lowered his voice as Melanie walked down the stairs in a robe, "Can we talk about this later?"
Melanie walked up to us, still crying, and Dean turned his attention to her, "Hey. How you holding up?"
"Been better," Melanie sniffled.
Dean nodded, "Listen, if you need for us to leave—"
Melanie nodded, "I need you guys to leave."
"Okay, we will," Sam said, "It's just that… Look… Margaret is still out there."
Melanie put her face in her hands and then wiped her tears away, "What do you guys need to know?"
"Is there anything that stood out?" Sam asked.
"Well, um…" Melanie shook her head, and her voice broke, "She barely gave a crap about me. I mean, I was just in the way. She was all about getting Camille."
Dean nodded, "Okay. That's something."
"One other thing. Um…" Melanie cried, "She enjoyed it. She was smiling."
We hurried over to the graveyard again and found Margaret's grave.
Dean tossed a shovel-full of dirt onto the pile next to the grave and looked around, "I feel naked doing this in daylight."
Sam nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Let's just hurry up."
After a while, they switched, and Sam smashed the shovel down onto the coffin to break it open.
Dean pulled his lighter out, "Alright, Mags. My lighter's juiced this time."
Sam lifted the lid of the coffin, but it was empty. We all looked at each other in confusion and then cleaned up the mess we made.
As we walked back to the car with our bags and shovels in hand, Dean sighed, "Geraldo'd."
"Not good," I said.
"Never good," Sam said, "If someone knew enough to take Margaret's bones, they're not kidding around. That's serious binding magic."
"Great," Dean scoffed as he put his shovel and bag into the trunk of the Dodge, "Psychic ghost bitch on a leash."
"We got to find those bones," Sam said.
Dean nodded, "So, we got to find the bonehead," He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and tossed it into the trunk.
"So, what? We call Bobby, see what it takes to harness the power of a ghost?" Sam asked.
Dean hesitated as he stared at the paper, "Yeah," He picked it up and unfolded it and examined it for a Moment, "Hey, guys, you know why I'm not going to spend my money at the annual Lily Dale ESP Festival and hot-dog-eating contest this year?"
Sam shook his head, "Can't imagine."
Dean nodded, "Because all the headliners are dead," He held the flyer for the Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival up for us to see.
Sam went to speak with Jimmy at the Emporium to see if he had any idea who would want to take out Goldy, Emelda, and Nikolai. While Dean and I drove to Melanie's.
I cleared my throat, "We've gotta stop ditching each other."
"I didn't ditch anyone," Dean said.
I nodded, "Yeah, I know, and I'm sorry. I just always feel like I'm in the middle, and I never know what choice to make or if I should be choosing a side at all."
Dean shook his head, "I don't want you to feel like that."
I shrugged, "Yeah, but look at it from where I stand… I see both sides," I looked at him, "You were doing what you thought was right… What was right," I corrected myself, "But Sam trusted Amy, he really believed she wouldn't hurt anyone again. But he also trusted you because you looked him in the eye and told him you wouldn't do anything to her."
Dean nodded, "I know."
I shook my head, "It just really sucks when we should be able to trust each other and be honest with each other, and it comes back to bite us. It shouldn't be like that."
Dean nodded, "You're right… I know, you're right."
I paused for a second, fighting with myself about what I wanted to say next, "Dean…" I sighed, "I've been cutting my hand."
"What? What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I've been doing it to deal with the anxiety I've been having, but it's because…" I sighed, "I don't know how to explain it, but it just makes me feel better when I heal myself."
Dean looked at me with concern all over his face, "Okay…"
"But, I stopped because the last time I did it…" I looked at him, "You remember when I 'cut myself under the seat'?"
He furrowed his brow, "Yeah…"
"I cut myself a lot deeper than I meant to, and it wasn't healing. So, I sewed myself up when I could," I sighed, "Later, this strange feeling came over me, it hurt so bad, and when I took off my bandage, there were maggots."
"What?" He asked disgustedly.
"I washed them out and got super dizzy, and when I looked in the mirror…" I swallowed hard, "My eyes were black." He just looked at me, and I nodded, "But then everything stopped, my eyes were normal, the maggots weren't there, and my hand was completely healed."
"So… You're seeing stuff now too?" Dean asked.
I shook my head, "No," He gave me a look, and I shrugged, "I mean… I don't know," I sighed, "That was a few weeks ago, and it hasn't happened since."
"Have you tried to…" He cleared his throat, trying to be supportive and not show me how freaked out he was, "Cut yourself since?"
"No," I said.
He nodded, "Let's keep it that way, okay?"
"Yeah, no problem," I said.
He nodded, "And if you're feeling anxious or whatever, just come get me, and I will help you, okay?"
I nodded, "Yeah."
He paused for a minute, "Uh, thanks for telling me."
I nodded, "Yeah, uh, thanks for not freaking out."
"We've gotta trust each other, right?" Dean asked.
When we got to Melanie's, Dean handed her the flyer and asked if she knew anything more about the victims or if she knew of anyone that would want to get rid of them.
"You know, after Nikolai…" She looked down at the flyer, "They asked Camille to take his spot. I mean, she's so popular," She shook her head, "Was so popular."
Dean nodded, "Okay, uh, all these people… Would you say that they're the, uh, you know, top dogs in town?"
Melanie shook her head, "Well, it's not really like that."
Dean shrugged, "But they were all doing well. I mean, your grandma?"
Melanie nodded, "She wrote a few books. Yeah, and Imelda was on 'The Nate Berkus Show' twice, so, yeah, I guess they were doing pretty well. You think that's why she went after them?" She asked.
"I mean, if you had to guess, who do you think would be next in line?" Dean asked.
Melanie shook her head, "I mean, I don't know—"
"Well, your grandma was headlining at the big hall, so who do you think they would ask to fill in for her?" Dean asked.
"Probably…" Melanie thought for a second, and then realization crossed her face, "Me."
Dean raised his eyebrows, "Okay, we've gotta get you safe then."
Dean and I ran out and grabbed our bags, and quickly made a large circle of salt in her living room for us to stand in.
"You sure that'll work?" Melanie asked.
"That should hold her off long enough for Sam to find the bones and burn them," Dean nodded, "Hopefully."
"Hopefully," Melanie nodded, "Does it hurt 'em? Burning their bones?"
Dean shrugged, "I never really thought about it."
I nodded, "It looks like it, though."
Melanie nodded, "Good."
An hour passed, and Sam finally called.
"Dean, It's the pawn-shop guy," Sam said once Dean answered the phone.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"He goose-chased me to a friggin' pregnant yoga class," Sam growled.
"Alright, well, figure out where he put her bones," Dean said.
"I will," Sam said.
Melanie gasped, and we followed her gaze to see Margaret's ghost standing in the window, smiling devilishly at us.
"Fast, Sam," Dean said and hung up.
Dean grabbed his shotgun, and Melanie and I stood behind him, holding crowbars when, suddenly, Margaret's ghost vanished.
"Is she gone?" Melanie asked.
Dean shook his head, "I doubt it."
"But she can't get past the line, right?" Melanie asked.
Dean nodded, "Right."
Then the windows burst open, and Dean covered Melanie and me from the glass. Dean aimed his shotgun at the broken window, and then the wind whistled into the house and blew away part of the circle.
"Oh. Damn it," Dean groaned, "I hate when they do that," He looked at me, "Get the salt. Go."
I ran over to the bag and grabbed the canister out.
"Dean!" Melanie shouted.
I looked up to see Margaret standing in between Melanie and Dean. As Dean turned around, Margaret held up her hand and sent Dean flying backward. I jumped in front of Melanie with my crowbar as Margaret turned around with an evil smile on her face. I swung the crowbar through her, and she dissipated.
We ran to the kitchen, away from the open windows, and Melanie and I quickly laid down a salt circle while Dean stood to watch with the shotgun. Melanie gasped, and I looked up as I finished laying my line to see Margaret standing in front of her just outside the circle.
Dean ran up, "Get behind me, "He stepped in front of Melanie and raised his shotgun at Margaret, "That's as far as you go, bitch."
Margaret smiled as the room started to shake, and the lights flickered. The floor cracked underneath the salt in front of Margaret and split the line, "Aw. Sorry, handsome."
Dean shot at her, and she disappeared again, only to reappear a few feet back. Dean went to shoot her again, but the gun just clicked. He turned and grabbed a chain out of his bag and swung at her, causing her to vanish. Margaret appeared next to me and threw me into Dean's back, both of us collapsed to the ground.
Dean sat up and grabbed my shoulder, "You okay?"
I held my head and nodded, "Yeah," Then I saw Margaret approaching us quickly, "Dean!"
He turned around, and she kicked him right in the face, knocking him out. Then she turned to me and punched me, sending me back to the floor. When I looked up, everything was blurry, but I could see Margaret, holding Melanie by her neck, choking her. As I was about to stand up, Margaret let go and stepped back, and as Dean started to wake up, she burst into flames.
The next morning, Sam, Dean, and I sat down to breakfast at Good Graces Café, and Sam told us about everything that happened with Jimmy.
"I found her bones in his bed," Sam said.
Dean raised his eyebrows, "In the bed? They were in the bed?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah."
Dean shook his head, "Ugh. I can't believe he was boning her."
Sam smirked and shook his head, "Dean."
Our waiter, the same one we had the first day we were here, walked up, "Can I get you anything else?"
Dean nodded, "Uh, just a refill," He pointed at the waiter, "And if you affirmate me, I'm gonna punch you in the face."
Sam and I looked at each other and smirked.
The waiter nodded with a smile, "Alrighty then. Coffee, coming up."
Dean put his head in his hand when the waiter walked away, "I can't wait to get out of this friggin' fortune cookie."
"Dean," Sam said and nodded at Melanie, who had just walked in.
Dean looked over his shoulder and smiled and raised his hand to get her attention.
"I'm gonna go, um…" Sam stood up, "Do something outside."
"Uh, yeah, me too," I stood up and followed Sam to the door.
"Hi," Melanie nodded at us when we walked by.
Once we reached the sidewalk, Sam turned to me, "So, what do you wanna do now?"
I furrowed my brow, "What do you mean?"
"About Dean and everything…" Sam said.
I shrugged, "I don't know. That's kinda up to you."
Sam shook his head, "Okay, but what do you think about everything?"
I raised my eyebrows, "You want to know what I think?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah, I just want to know if I'm overreacting."
I sighed, "Well, I don't think you're overreacting, but I do think it's better if we all stick together."
Sam nodded and glanced away for a Moment, "You don't have to go with me. I'm not asking you to choose."
"Yeah, but, Sam, I want to be with you, and I don't want to have to leave Dean behind again to do it," I sighed, "Look, what Dean did, sucks, but…" I looked at him nervously, "It's only because he lied, not because of what he did," I furrowed my brow at him, "I mean, what Dean said was true… If you didn't know her… You would have killed her. And you know it."
Sam nodded but didn't say anything.
"Am I wrong?" I asked.
He shook his head, "No, you're not wrong." After a Moment, he nodded, "Okay, let's get our stuff."
"Our?" I asked.
He nodded, "Yeah."
I smiled, "Alright, let's."
Once we finished packing up our stuff, we checked out and walked across the street back toward the café to load our things into the Dodge.
"Hey," Dean said as he joined us at the car while we put our bags in the trunk.
"Hey," Sam said.
"That's your stuff," Dean said, looking in the trunk surprised.
Sam nodded, "Yeah. Yeah. I figured we'd take one car."
Dean shrugged, "Works for me. You still want to break my face?"
Sam smiled, "No. Uh, not at this Moment," He sighed, "Look, you know what? Um… A little birdy made me realize, you were right… About Amy."
Dean nodded and glanced at me quickly.
"If she was…" Sam shrugged, "Just any monster, I'm not sure I could have let her walk away," He shook his head, "I don't know. I mean, I'll never know."
"So, what are you saying?" Dean asked.
"What I'm saying is… I get why you did it," Sam nodded, "You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here's the thing. You can't just look me in the face and tell me you're fine. I mean, you're not sleeping, you drink for the record—"
Dean shook his head, "Oh, here we go."
"Look, whatever. Last one to preach, I know," Sam nodded, "But… Just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?"
"You want me to be honest?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded, "Yeah."
"I went with my gut. And that felt right. I didn't trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cass, I'm having a hard time trusting anybody," Dean nodded, "And as far as how I been acting… I don't know. Maybe it's 'cause I don't like lying to you guys. You know, it doesn't feel right. So, yeah, you got me there. I been climbing the walls."
Sam nodded, "I know how that is," He paused and sighed, "But, hey… If I learned one thing from that museum, sibling acts are tough."
Dean shook his head, "Oh, don't compare us to that hall of crazy," He walked past us to his door, "We're like poster kids of functional family life compared to them."
Sam smirked, "It's a low bar."
"Well, hey…" Dean smirked, "Grading on a curve has got me past everything since kindergarten, so don't knock it.
Sam chuckled, "Whatever you say." We all sat in the car, and he sighed, "I still want to know how that guy bent my spoon."
I laughed, "Forget it, Sam. It's Lily Dale, you'll never know."